#the first screenshot is an all time mood

[bisexual-coala]

Happy anniversary to the bisexual queens korrasami who paved the way for sapphic couples!

[benevolenterrancy]

3 for the price of 1! the low low price of 0$ and an inordinately long wait because this got buried in my inbox and i only just saw it!

[magentagalaxies]

uploading all the videos i took during my time on tour with scott onto a flashdrive and there's 190 items selected omg,,,,

[swampjawn]

God I love animation. I love it for the way it can bring anything to life beyond the constraints of boring ol' reality, but also the ways that it's inextricably linked to, and draws on the conventions of live-action film-making.

So fuck it, let's look at how Hayao Miyazaki straight up copies some camera framing techniques from his predecessor and the other most influential Japanese filmmaker of all time, Akira Kurosawa! (Kurosawa really was the master of framing scenes around his characters, so he's a great source of inspiration)

(btw, this is a screenshot from this TV special where the two met for the first time just after the release of Kurosawa's final film. It's pretty interesting, and also very cute how nervous Miyazaki seems to be to meet one of his idols.)

Specifically, how the two each choose to break the 180 degree rule (well, not technically 'break' in the case of Kurosawa) to show their protagonists' changing destiny in "Throne of Blood" and "Princess Mononoke".

For anyone who doesn't know, the 180 degree rule is a basic film-making rule of thumb which states that in any scene where two characters interact, you should draw an imaginary line between them and the camera should always stay on one side of that line.

("In the Mood for Love" - Wong Kar-wai)

This way, one character is always looking to the right of the camera, the other is always looking to the left, and the audience doesn't get confused by the geography of the scene. Crossing this line can be disorienting, but when done intentionally, it can convey a paradigm shift of some kind in the scene.

In this scene from "Throne of Blood," (a feudal Japanese retelling of Macbeth) Washizu's wife Asaji discusses tactics with him and tries to convince him to aspire to the throne and to assassinate his lord Tsuzuki while he sleeps.

As two servants appear to notify them that Washizu's sleeping quarters are prepared, the camera dollies left and around the characters' backs. This camera movement is motivated by the motion of the servants' torches outside the room, but it also signifies a change in Washizu's outlook.

Washizu is completely silent for most of this scene, contemplating his wife's advice. But as the camera slides behind his back and across the line of action, the scene is now re-framed, illustrating his change in perspective.

He's been convinced and the trajectory of his life is about to change - and now, facing away from the camera, is the time for action.

Because the camera slides smoothly across the line, Kurosawa isn't technically breaking the 180 degree rule. Miyazaki on the other hand, takes it a little further.

The complimentary scene in Princess Mononoke comes near the start when the wise woman of the village reads Prince Ashitaka's fortune after he's cursed by the wild boar spirit. She tells him that it is his fate to leave the village and travel to the west, where he may be able to lift the curse on his arm. The trajectory of Ashitaka's life changes in this moment too. As he accepts his fate, the change is symbolized by him cutting off his hair, but also by the camera jumping the line.

Throughout this dialogue scene and even as he cuts his hair, the simulated camera sits just slightly to the side of Ashitaka's left shoulder.

But once it's done, for the final shot, the scene is reframed and we jump to the other side, where Ashitaka is now looking to the right of the camera instead of the left.

Making the camera dolly across a scene like Kurosawa's version in 2D animation is no simple task, so this transition with a simple cut is in a way subtler, in another way a bit more jarring, but it conveys the same meaning.

This is the moment when our protagonists make the choice to embark on a new destiny and re-frame their lives.

This has been an excerpt from a short video essay I made a while back, which not many people watched. I think this is at least in part due to my failure to package it well, and it seems you tumblheads like this animation/cinematography analysis stuff, so this is an experiment to see if, with the help of y'all, and a new title and thumbnail, it's at all possible to give this video a second wind in the eyes of the Youtube Gods!

So if you found this interesting, I'd appreciate if you checked it out! Thanks for reading!

[winterdeepelegy]

Vanilla Gpose Tips

I get asked occasionally how I make my screenshots if I'm not using shaders or mods. The short answer: Patience. Gpose's suite of tools is a lot more robust than it used to be when it was first released. But if you want a screenshot to really shine without using third party add-ons, it's not something you can just go into gpose, take a printscreen and get back out. You might capture a moment with nice lighting that way, but it takes more than that. 1. Choosing a location and time of day is job one. What kind of mood are you trying to convey? Does your intended screenshot have a theme (or a prompt?) or are you just looking at your new glam and marveling at how fine your character looks in it? Does a lighter or darker setting suit the character better? Setting, time of day, and weather can affect this. 2. You can stop time and weather from changing. I keep this on by default because it can take upwards of 30 minutes IRL to fine tune a screenshot. The middle button below. Make sure it's highlighted.

3. Toggle battle effects on/off. It's the button right next to the time/weather stop, the icon of the guy holding the sword. If the icon is highlighted as it is in the screenshot, your battle effects are on. If you want to capture pure motion and not worry about battle effects, turn this off. 4. Wet effect. Use it, use it, use it. It doesn't just make clothes look wet and make skin glossy, it actually helps to bring out texture and detail on the character's outfit. Especially since the graphics updates in 7.1. I've found it also adds shine to hair and can help the eyes stand out more.

5. Sticker Mode. Yes, there are oodles of cute minion stickers, flags, and numbers, but there are also some great effects to be found in the Decorations category! Sparkles and twinkles, lens flare, among other things can help enhance metallic points on a glamour, AND they can be resized! So if you want a more subtle twinkle on the edge of your spectacles or earrings, you can tilt and downsize your desired sparkle. There are also cute flowers and hearts. 6. Quick Keys. If you're playing on a keyboard, the 1 on your top number row freezes the screenshot. This is extremely helpful if you're trying to catch a battle emote right at a specific moment. If you miss it, keep trying because emotes will continue to cycle until you change them. R and Scroll Lock will both hide/unhide the gpose controls. X will turn on lighting. Space Bar will toggle your character to stop them from facing the camera and vice versa. 7. Lighting Intensity is Dependent on Distance. The closer you're zoomed in on your character, the brighter the light is going to be when you turn it on. Try adjusting your zoom in or out and toggling the light to see if the illumination is to your liking. You can also adjust the RGB on the lights to fit the mood/environment. I also recommend turning on Manual Brightness. 8. Color Filter and Screen Effect. These two features, in my opinion, require the most patience. Not every color filter and screen effect will work well together in every scenario. Click through and preview all of them in your screenshots and see if some SE's work better with your preferred CF. You might find an unexpected combination that you love. Trailer and Echo color filters are great for flashbacks (no one uses Aetherometer, it's an eye bleeder). Use the Pencil or one of the monochrome CFs and Noise 2 SE to create a nice black and white film or photo effect. 9. Frames. Frames are one of the more limited features and not always needed in order to capture a great screenshot. Action poses benefit from the Cinema frames, however, while more lighthearted moments play well with the photo options.

10. Emotes. Before you enter Gpose, be sure to /groundsit to clear your most recent emotes. Summoning mounts and minions also count as emotes for the sake of Gpose. By the same token, you can use battle abilities before entering Gpose, and this is what it will cycle through. You can't activate a battle ability while IN Gpose. You will have access to all of your non-battle emotes and facial expressions, though. You can combine any emote with any facial expression by choosing the action first, and expression second, so you can /prettyplease and /awe at the same time to make your character look hilariously horrified. If you enter Gpose with an active battle ability, you can still apply a facial expression to it from within the tool. 11. Bits and Bobs. Enable Manual Focus and Depth of Field will help bring out the details of the background more, and will help to make a more cohesive screenshot. Manual Focus is great if you want your character in the frame, but you want to shift the focus elsewhere, to an object or another person in the background for example. In the same menu where you'll find emotes, click the second eye button to "Track Camera". Your character's eyes will follow the position of the camera. Lastly, again, have patience. Allow yourself time to play with all the tools Gpose has to offer. You're probably not going to get the winning screenshot after clicking Printscreen just one time, you should take multiple shots from different angles with different lighting and effects, then compare them all and pick the ones you like best. And remember, even if it's the true endgame, it's not a competition. Your screenshots are not "worse" or "boring" just because you're not using third party tools. I look forward to seeing what you create, and you should too.

[croquis-el]

We all know the fact that Naruhodou (Wright) passed the bar exam to get the opportunity to face Mitsurugi (Edgeworth) in court.

This is all, as it seems at first glance, naive, a little retrospective, selfish, romantic, and so on. However, no matter how clinging to the past Naruhodou may seem, is he really that loyal and forgiving to his old childhood friend?

Nothing like that. Nah. Not a chance.

When Mitsurugi is first mentioned by Detective Itonoko in an office conversation in the Turnabout Sisters (jp. 逆転姉妹), we are given two answer options - first: Of course i don't know him, second: Of course, I know him.

If we choose the first option, the detective will tell us a little backstory about the prodigy prosecutor and express the opinion that it is strange that Naruhodou hasn't heard about him. To which Naruhodou will answer that he simply feigned ignorance and will express his opinion about the prosecutor in an internal monologue.

If we choose the second option, Naruhodou will loudly share his immodest conclusions about Mitsurugi, which will displease the detective.

Even the beginning of the meeting is accompanied by Naruhodou’s thoughts that he must not relax and show weakness, otherwise Mitsurugi will swallow him alive.

From the very beginning, Naruhodou isn't in the mood to play on emotions and press on pity, instead preparing himself for the worst.

He understands that time spent together in childhood is not an argument or a reason to start a conversation.

The entire court hearing is accompanied by Naruhodou's evaluative comments about Mitsurugi - he curses him, out loud questions some of the actions of the prosecutor (updated autopsy report), calls and interrogates inconvenient witnesses for the prosecution (Mitsurugi doesn't want me to question the witness, but I don't care), answers him with the same barbs (Wasn't it you who told me "proof is everything"? Well, I was listening.), denounces the collusion of the prosecution with the witnesses, protests against the postponement of the hearings in order to prevent manipulation of the evidence, in general, by any means, unbalances Mitsurugi.

He is literally: Is there something you don’t like? I don't care.

In the next case - Turnabout Samurai (jp. 逆転のトノサマン), Detective Itonoko is angry at Naruhodou for upsetting the prosecutor, but his response is not remorseful: "Umm... so?"

During the first day of the hearing, Naruhodou literally laughs at the confrontation between the prosecution and his own witness ("Wow, old windbag has left even Mitsurugi speechless. She's good!" or "Mitsurugi found himself a worthy opponent"). He also sincerely doesn't understand why Mitsurugi’s behavior has changed, and he seems out of place, but he doesn't stop creating problems for the prosecution.

He doesn't soften towards him until the Turnabout Goodbyes (jp. 逆転、そしてサヨナラ), in which Mitsurugi becomes his client, and even later, when they begin to build a trusting relationship, Naruhodou does not make concessions for Mitsurugi and does not bend under his pressure.

So, Naruhodou did pass a very difficult exam to gain access to the courtroom, but he essentially created a hopeless situation for Mitsurugi. In the conditions of the court hearing, the prosecutor had no other chance than to listen to the arguments of the defense. Naruhodou may not have addressed Mitsurugi directly at first, saying that his ideology was terrible, but he did, proving with his words and actions right in the halls of the law that this is not how things are done and there is a limit to cruelty. He calmly used the letter of the law and jurisprudence - the language that Mitsurugi respects and lives by.

Defeat your opponent with his own weapon when you think he is wrong.

Naruhodou is a stubborn, purposeful, and quite strict person of character who lives without regrets, takes big risks, and doesn't allow himself to relax in any difficult situation.

He is gorgeous.

P.S. I don’t have some screenshots from the court and from the office because I don’t have the English version of the game, and in the video the author did not check all the options (I don’t blame the author, thank her for screenrecord)

[goldenstring6123]

Hi !!! How r u pooks :3

Ignore this if u haven't played dti but what do you think the L&DS boys' reactions would be to their s/o playing dress to impress and actually raging at it like verbally LMFAO this game seriously has me TWEAKING bro but I can't stop playing it gigi please free my family 💔 (hcs plz)

Thanks for reading O_o

Lnds: Dress to impress chaos

Warning: no warning! GN!READER, crack-fic (?)

Author's notes: DTI has me on a chokehold as well pookie.

Zayne:

Surprisingly, Zayne knows about this because of the children in the pediatric ward. A good number of kids have their tablets with them and play the game; to him, it looked like some regular dress-up game. He didn't think much of it and just warned the children to lessen their screen time.

When he arrived home and was taking his shoes off in the foyer, he could hear you complaining about something. The only coherent sentence he heard was, "The theme is Y-THREE-K, NOT Y-TWO-K!" He wondered what you were talking about and who you were mad at, but when he saw you huddled around the coffee table, fashion magazines sprawled all over, and another gadget displaying fashion catalogs, he knew what was up.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" he asked, sitting next to you and placing down a cup of tea after changing into his clothes. He could see that there were figures walking down the runway.

"I don't get how those ugly layering players win first place!"

He was confused by what you meant. The outfits were suitable, donning the familiar attire of the staff at the hospital, particularly scrubs and white skirts that were too short for the protocol. "What's the theme?"

"A doctor or a nurse," you replied. As the screen turned briefly black, Zayne waited in anticipation. The scene changed, and on the podium was a mermaid with neon green wings and a god-awful dress.

You threw your hands up in frustration and wept on his knees. Zayne was dumbfounded. "I hate this game!" he heard your muffled cries on his knees. He patted your head.

He got used to seeing you so engrossed in the game, but he would never get used to your mood swings: one moment, you're insulting children, and the next moment, you're giggling because you won 1st place.

Zayne bought you a VIP pass because he loved seeing your reaction every time, although he isn't really a fan of spending money on in-game currency. But he loves you too much, so he just keeps that thought to himself.

After seeing you play, he watches the kids play as well, occasionally commenting on their choice of clothing. The nurses were pretty confused by his comments because Zayne never really commented on any outfits, much less in a game.

Xavier:

Xavier knows about the game and has tried it once, not getting the premise of it at first. He didn't know how to change patterns or delete the clothes he was wearing, so his first catwalk was a bit of a mess. But here's the thing: Xavier won first place, which made him more confused. He screenshot himself on the podium and sent it to you.

When you got home from work, excited to play with him, he was pouting while looking at his phone. You wondered why and saw that another player was walking around in the same exact fit as your partner's character. Xavier said that he kept on trying to change his outfit, but that one person kept doing the same thing. You decided to give that player a piece of your mind on behalf of your boyfriend.

When you're at work, Xavier will send you links to fashion hacks he sees on social media. "This looks cute; let's try it later," and he's more updated when Gigi is working on something. The codes—Xavier knows the codes by heart. He knows them more than he knows the date of your birth.

It was thanks to this game that he likes to go shopping with you to get some inspiration. Surprisingly, he can make a coherent outfit with the ones he sees in the malls.

When you both play together, he likes playing duo, and even if your outfits are unfinished or bad, he gives you 5 stars. But for the rest of the players, he forgets to vote more than half of the time—you don't know if it's on purpose or really by accident.

He would occasionally laugh when players fight against one another, especially if you were involved.

He once bought himself the VIP pass, but his outfits still looked too generic for your liking, but you didn't have the heart to complain. Xavier once lost a bet, and now he has to buy you the pass as well.

He once used his work account to comment on some suggestions on Gigi's Twitter, and kids were confused as to why a hunter was commenting on a kids' game. He deleted it soon after, but he amassed a few hundred followers.

Sylus:

He felt nothing about the game at first and thought of it as nothing more than your form of entertainment. It keeps you busy and out of harm's way, but he never once thought that it would cause a rift in your relationship (he's exaggerating).

Sylus would grow annoyed at how you weren't picking up his calls when you were clearly at home, so he sent Mephisto. The little snitch took a picture of you being so engrossed in your game and sent it back to his boss. Sylus was half disgruntled and 100% dumbfounded when he found out—he was laughing, but he was annoyed. Luke and Kieran were utterly confused.

At midnight, while you worked your way to being a fashion maven, you didn't notice your man sneaking in through the window. Just as you were about to hit pose 11, Sylus yanked your feet and stole your tablet from you.

"No! Give that back!"

"You're not answering my calls because of…this?" He turned to the tablet, which displayed another player's half-decent outfit for the theme "star."

"What calls?" you turned to your phone. '18 missed calls' and your heart sunk to the floor. Shyly, you turned to him, scratching your head. "Oops?"

He sat down on the edge of your bed. "Why are you so engrossed in a dressing game? Why not dress yourself with all the clothes I gave you?" He nudged to the mountain of paper bags in the corner of your room—branded ones, too.

"Because it's fun?" You took the tablet from him and showed him on screen how your outfit won first place. "See? I like winning—one more round, and let's go on a night ride."

He paused, patiently waiting for a minute while you scrolled around the game lobby. He came to a decision. "No. Screen time is over. You've neglected me for far too long." He yanked the tablet away from you using his evol, then pinned you down to the bed, burying his nose in between your breasts.

Although Sylus claims he's not interested in playing the game with you, he did, in fact, join the game secretly to spy on you. He was mildly infuriated with the little amount of selection of menswear and the ridiculous look on the men's faces, so he still really doesn't understand the hype, but he'll be generous enough to give you a three or four-star once in a while.

Once, he joined your server, and the theme was the bad guy. You dressed up as a white-haired, red-eyed man with over-chiseled cheekbones. A moment later, Sylus bombarded you with a screenshot of the game. "I do not look like that. Delete it."

As much as he says he doesn't like the game, Gigi made an update and added some dark reddish aura in-game, as well as a crow perched on the hand of the model. The bird looked awfully close to Mephisto. You confronted Sylus about this, and he denied having any involvement in it.

Whenever you sleep in Sylus' home, he would wake up to the goddamn beat of the game at 3 am, and out of frustration, he would use his EVOL to get the device away from you and place it on the highest shelf in the room. Then he'd hold you down.

Rafayel:

Rafayel introduced you to the game, but after a few times of playing it, it didn't take long for him to get banned for cyberbullying—he wasn't bullying, actually; he was just stating facts, and the other players couldn't take it, and so they reported him. He fights anyone, and he comments a lot in the game, earning him the title of a "yapper."

"You guys don't have taste. How did that thing win first place?" That thing refers to a pretty decent outfit but doesn't match the theme.

"You don't look good either, hun," said the person in first place.

"You don't get to say that when your hair looks like puke, darling." He rage-chattered, saying everything he was typing out loud.

You were cackling beside your boyfriend, witnessing him rage while you were just perched on top of the 3rd place, happy you even got to go up there against all the fashionistas.

"Kids really have the gall to compete and insult adults with taste."

"Raf, you do understand that they're adults as well, right?"

"No, they're not. They're children. This is a kids' game."

You stared at him intently. He stared back, thinking.

"Then I don't need to hold back from insulting them." he placed his hand on the keyboard.

Rafayel's fits are absolutely top-tier. He always wins first place. The layering, the color combination, the form, and the aesthetic are all on point and top-tier. He doesn't reference, and the only time he does is when the theme requires it.

This man doesn't do duos with you because he wants the podium to himself. He once did a duo with you, and it broke his winning streak. You had a small argument about it, but you just gave in, eager to make him lose. Newsflash: You failed miserably.

He secretly joins a farming server every once in a while. Rafayel unknowingly joined the same server as you, and when you asked about it, he denied it, saying only people with bad tastes need to farm for stars. You sent him a screenshot. He didn't talk to you for a day.

He files a lot of complaints and goes on Twitter about how buggy the game is and how bad the texture is. He didn't know that his graphics were on low.

Rafayel is very active in the community and contributes to it during his free time. He uses an alternate account to post suggestions when Gigi opens a post about it. A lot of people actually agree with Rafayel's complaints and suggestions.

Rafayel once freaked out when he accidentally went inside the meat room and told you about it, but when he showed you, it was already catwalk time. You pretended you didn't believe him and tried to pretend to listen when he was searching for that passable wall. You laughed at him and brushed him off, pretending that you didn't believe him.

This began the downward spiral to Lana's lore. He kept on sending you reels about it—and speculations and theories. He even once invited you to that scary horror game, but he quit because it was too creepy and full of 'negative energy.'

Author footnotes: If I'm taking a break while writing, I would be playing dress to impress and I would be fighting children (i'm not joking, I once made a player and her friends leave the server)

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[whatswrongwithblue]

In The Night, In The Dark

Edited screenshot and beta'ing done by my dearlest love, @inuhalfdemon

Summary: Alastor x afab Reader x Shadow smut. Easily read as a stand-alone, there's no other context needed to enjoy this instalment, but it is technically Part 5 of my "Girl Talk" series. Part 1, Part 2, and Part 4 are all dirty humor and Part 3 is also easily stand-alone smut of the "filthiest" kind.

TW's: Slight dub-con at the very beginning, voyeurism, masturbation, vaginal fingering, anal, biting, threesome, double penetration, squirting, creampie. 8,271 words of romance and debauchery lay before the "Read More." MDNI and plan on a shower afterwards.

Before the Hazbin Hotel . . .

Before you met Angel Dust . . .

Before the seven loneliest years of your life . . .

You had found yourself in the beginnings of a wonderful and complicated romance with The Radio Demon.

You had known him for a while, prior to becoming intimate, and had seen Alastor in a variety of moods.

He could be charming, enthusiastic, charismatic, downright funny, and the life of the party. He could sing and dance the night away, sweep you off your feet, all while being outright goofy. This was the side of him that, over a considerable amount of time, you had fallen in love with.

He could be terrifying; a monster (quite literally), a murderous psychopath, a sadistic and twisted killer who made strangers flee from him and far unluckier souls kneel to him. The kind of man who took what he wanted, regardless - or sometimes because - of who it hurt. This was the side of him that had initially caught your eye and ignited the flame of your darkest fantasies. Heaven help you, there a was a reason you were down there in Hell with men like him. While it had taken you a long while to realize he was the man of your dreams, it had taken you even longer to get his attention.

But now that you had it . . .

You were realizing there was a secret, third side to his personality; one you had only seen glimpses of so far. A distant and cold version of Alastor, where he couldn’t stand to be touched, forwent his chivalry, and yet, in a very twisted sense of the idea, let his guard down. These dark moods settled on him whenever something or someone got under his skin and he had no real outlet for his frustrations. No form of violence or vengeance would settle him, and he couldn’t exactly lash out at you because of it. He felt the new and unnerving need for you in these moments but was also desperate for distance.

It seemed tonight he had finally figured out a solution to this problem.

____

You had just fallen into the first stages of sleep, where the drowsy fog still kept your faculties from you, but you were also halfway aware of what was happening to you.

Pleasantly cool fingers ghosted across your skin, tickling your hips bones and dipping lower to your thighs, lifting you from your dreams. Still half asleep, you automatically assumed it was Alastor, and in your hazy stupor, didn’t question it. It wasn’t the first time he had snuck into your apartment, your room, your bed in the middle of the night. You even encouraged it. So, there wasn’t an ounce of doubt or concern in your mind as you kept your eyes shut and shifted more onto your back, parting your legs just enough to let the familiar long and tender fingers begin stroking over your panties.

Your breath came in quicker, louder pants as he worked you up. Long, slow, torturous touches that burned you up on the inside and left you wet and swollen on the outside.

By the time you fully awoke, you had already soaked through your panties – simple little cotton things that didn’t even match the t-shirt you had put on before bed. It’s not like you had been expecting company, and Alastor – well he didn’t find sexual appeal in anything you wore anyway.

Still with your eyes closed, you turned your head and reached an arm out to the other side of the bed, wanting to reciprocate the delicious foreplay he was pampering you with.

“Hmmm . . . Al’,” you breathed his name, still reaching for his body but when you finally heard his voice, it didn’t come from where you expected it to.

“I’m here.”

But he wasn’t.

Here was right next to you in bed but his voice was coming from there. From somewhere past the foot of the bed and much too far away to be connected to the hand that had just slid itself under the elastic band of your underwear and was finally giving your pussy the direct contact it had been begging for.

You opened your eyes and true to what the flutter in your heart had told you, Alastor was not what was lying next to you in bed.

It was just darkness.

A deep black mass of a thing that vaguely resembled your lover. The only part of it that had any detail was the forearm and hand that was still doing rather pleasant things to your body, though your mind was ringing with alarm bells.

“It’s alright, my dear,” Alastor’s voice assured you and your head whipped around to face him, your ears triangulating easily on the direction of his voice now that you were awake and alert. “It’s me . . . well,” he chuckled without humor, “mostly me.”

It dawned on you then just exactly what was happening. In the simplest of terms, Alastor was having his shadow finger-fuck you in bed . . . while he watched. The realization left you feeling shy and unsure of yourself in a way you hadn’t felt in very long time.

You looked Alastor in the eyes, trying to gage if this was really what he wanted, but only found a quiet, deep rage in those beautiful ruby orbs of his. It unsettled you but it also really turned you on.

“I want this,” he said, his words assuring you, though his tone was commanding. “But if it’s too much for you . . .”

He trailed off and looked away and as he did so, the shadow pulled away from you. The brevity of its departure made it more obvious that you had indeed been enjoying its touch and your walls clenched longingly at the thought of its return.

‘I’m okay with it,” you replied quickly. Maybe too quickly, if Alastor’s raised eyebrow was any indication. “I mean . . .” You hesitated, being more careful in your word choice. Even if your answer disappointed Alastor, you would only upset him more if he ever found out you weren’t explicitly honest with him. “I’d like to keep trying. If you’re really okay with it, that is.”

“I wouldn’t even let it look at you if I wasn’t, let alone fuck you like I intend it to,” he replied with a deadly low tone.

You swallowed.

“And if I say stop?”

“Then we’ll stop. Of course.” He nodded, his eyes softening for just a fraction of a second, letting slip that sliver of decency he still kept close to his heart when it came to you.

“Okay,” you agreed. Alastor stood and walked over to you.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, letting his eyes roam over you sprawled out on top of your sheets, the damp spot visible on your underwear, even in the darkness of the room. “Now, let’s have a better view of you going forward, shall we?”

He pulled your panties slowly down your legs, letting the pads of his fingers dance across your flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake that his claws gently raked against.

It was the last direct touch he gave you until after his shadow had shown you what it could really do.

Alastor walked back to his chair that was leaned against the opposite wall of your bed. A chair that you didn’t own or had ever seen before. Which meant he had materialized it just for this.

Your eyes about bugged out of your head as he undid his buckle and his trousers and pulled his already hard and throbbing erection free before taking his seat. He sat like a King on his throne, legs wide apart, shoulders straight and confident, and one hand gripping the armrest while the other took hold of the base of his cock. Meanwhile his eyes stayed locked on you.

As if a silent command had been issued, the swirling mass of shadows next to you began to thicken, reaching for you once more. This time you were ready for it and kept your legs wide and raised your hips up as the ghostly dark hand found your heated center. It explored you thoroughly, running multiple fingers over and between your folds, toying with your clit and the sensitive line of eager flesh that led from it to the very center of your weeping cunt. You got the distinct impression it was like an eager student, who had been watching and observing its master, and was now ready for its own hands-on learning.

The shadow shifted, moving closer to you and you tensed a little as you expected it to crawl over you, but then it . . . disappeared?

No.

It went beneath you.

You watched, fascinated, as it slipped itself between your body and the sheets and then you felt it, lifting you away from the mattress by barely an inch. It felt almost like a thin layer of water between you and the bed, not so solid that it didn’t give into the natural swells of your body but definitely solid enough to feel.

There was the slightest tickling at your neck that then began to intensify, and you blinked in wonder as the darkness morphed into a face next to yours. One that looked very much like Alastor’s, but far less detailed. Those eyes though, although green rather than red, were very much the eyes you knew so well and adored.

Even in the haze of arousal that the hand working your pussy was clouding your judgement with, you came to understand the relationship between Alastor and his shadow in an intimate way that no other act but this could bring you.

While it had a mind of its own, a body of its own, Alastor and it were inexplicably connected to each other. Your real lover, the man watching you from the chair a few feet away, could see through those green eyes and could feel what those hands felt. It was Alastor’s mouth and his shadow’s mouth that bit down on tender flesh where your neck met your shoulders, teasing the skin there until it was marked and bruised, but never breaking skin.

This was how Alastor could find comfort in you without pushing the limits of his own touch-adverse body when he fell victim to his darkest moods.

You let a moan slip from your lips as the shadow’s fingers found a perfect rhythm of strokes from clit to center and felt every bit of reservation ease from your body as you gave in to this strange and unique form of sex.

Another hand materialized on your other side, snaking its way up beneath your t-shirt, tickling your ribs and cupping the bottom swell of your breast. You moaned again, arching your back, and felt it pinching your nipple. It squeezed and rolled it, stimulating it until it was peaked and taught.

You felt your pleasure building, increasing at a rapid pace you didn’t know you had in you, brought on by the delicious exoticness of the silky coolness of the shadow’s flesh against yours. Desperate for more contact, you turned your face into it, nuzzling the side of the head next to yours and felt something similar to hair but it floated softly through the air as if underwater.

Then you remembered Alastor and your eyes shot to him but rather than meeting his gaze, you locked onto the throbbing member in his grasp and the way he was slowly pumping himself as he watched you. His tip was red and swollen, almost as tense and angry as his dark expression, and even in the dim light of the room, you could see the bit of precum glistening at the top, ready to spill over and run down his shaft.

And still his hand was slow and methodical on himself, just a causal rise and fall along his entire length, purposefully drawing out his own pleasure.

Just as the wave of your first orgasm began to crest, the shadow slipped its fingers inside you, at last giving you some sensation of being filled as it curled what felt like two long and slender digits up and into the spongey sweet spot. You cried out and threw your head back as it rubbed its palm against your clit and pumped into your depths. The wet squelching noise it pulled from your body was drowned out as you voiced your ecstasy. You came with shaking legs and an arched back and you had never felt closer to the man who was ironically across the room.

As you came down from your orgasm, a kind of blissed out clarity overwhelmed you. Now you felt truly free to love and adore and desire every aspect of Alastor, even his darkest most detached part of his soul. He would feel it, he would understand it, and he wanted it.

The shadow didn’t stop its task as your orgasm came to a close, but it did slow its pace with an expert understanding of how your body worked. Letting up on the pressure of its palm against your clit, it ever so gently worked your inner walls, keeping you from the overwhelming sensation of overstimulation – at least for now – and letting your pleasure rebuild upon itself, riding the cascading wave of your last orgasm to quickly reach a new and second high.

At first you merely panted. Open-mouthed and head thrown back into the strange and thin shoulder supporting you from beneath, you were dazed into feeling nothing but the tantalizing fingers working their magic on you. But then it quickened its pace, knowing just the moment when your body was ready for more and you whimpered, a pathetic wanton little sound, that almost sounded like a response to pain.

The pressure of the shadowy palm returned to your clit and surprisingly sharp claws dug into your breast. You stared at Alastor, eyes roaming between his face and his lap. He was not meeting your eyes, not when his own was so clearly locked onto what was happening between your legs, truly enthralled by the scene of his shadow’s hand fucking your pussy, the view from his vantage point perfect for such voyeurism. His cock was positively weeping at this point and your mouth watered at the sight of the single stream of salty liquid that spilled from his tip and without breaking rhythm, he coated his entire length with a thin layer of it. You wanted to take him in your mouth, feel the weight of him on your tongue, let the musky taste of him overwhelm your senses and mix your saliva with his own fluids to increase his own pleasure. But he didn’t move a muscle towards you, and you were fixed to the bed, helpless to pull away from the shadow that had you in its grip from beneath.

You came again, lost in the thought of pleasuring Alastor in return for what he was doing to you now. This orgasm was longer and more intense than the first and your cries filled the room but this time you kept Alastor within your view and didn’t miss his smile widen in approval as he watched your hips rocking with reckless abandon into his shadow.

Feeling spent, you let your body melt into the dark and fluid body beneath yours, thinking it might be over now.

But then you heard the distinct tsk that often came from Alastor whenever he teasingly disapproved of something you had said or done and your eyes shot back open when you realized, he still hadn’t come.

You weren’t sure you had much more in you and trusted Alastor when he had said all you had to say was “stop” and he would, but your twisted curiosity wanted to see where he would take this if you allowed it. So, you said nothing as you met his gaze, seeing his cock in your peripherals still being worked by that hand as steady as a metronome.

“That was just some foreplay, my dear,” Alastor said and then tilted his head at you, as if considering something. “Tell me you haven’t grown curious as to what its cock would feel like inside of you.”

Your cunt ached at his words, unearthing a level of desire in you that you didn’t know existed up until then.

“Well, I certainly am now,” you say, feeling more and more like your usual confident self with every passing second.

You felt the shadow beneath you thicken, lifting your hips just a fraction higher, and you bent your knees slightly, pressing the bottoms of your feet into the mattress, catching on quickly to the position his shadow was putting you in.

“That’s it,” Alastor said, a mix of pride and authority in his voice as he appraised you. “Good girl, just like that.”

You felt the tip of something wider than the fingers at your entrance, teasing and undulating the shallowest parts of your walls and you bore down, helping to guide it in until it was fully sheathed within you, the angle of penetration not allowing for anything deeper.

With black arms and hands wrapped around your torso, the shadow that was an odd mix of two and three dimensions began thrusting up into you, and you leaned your weight of your back into it, embracing its hold on you as it fucked you from beneath.

It must have been quite the show for Alastor; your legs spread wide, your pussy on full display, as its dark and pulsing shaft came up from underneath you and penetrated your most intimate of places, all the while its hands roamed beneath your t-shirt, groping and teasing at your belly, your ribs, your breast, and your hard and aching nipples.

For a while, it was mostly silent in the room. Just the sounds of your soft moans and heavy breath were enough to dominate the air, though in-between the gentle, lusty notes of your voice, more carnal sounds were heard. The squeaking of the bed frame, the wet, slippery sound of the infernal, inhuman cock pounding into your core, and the very subtle, hardly there at all sound of Alastor’s fist working his own member and the occasional hard intake of breath from him.

He was finally getting close, though he was clearly desperately holding out for more time.

Eager to see his release, that moment when he would lose control, you began meeting the shadow’s rhythm with a more active enthusiasm than you had been showing.

You took one of the hands from beneath your shirt and guided it slowly back down between your legs, and it did as directed, meeting your clit with eager and quick circles that had you immediately moaning and crying out. You were going to come again and soon and you craned your head forward to get a good look at Alastor.

“Oh fuck, this feels so good,” you said, your words affected by the shakiness of your breath and the ever-present steady rocking of the shadow beneath you. “Can you feel it?”

“Yes.”

His answer was simple, direct, and still you could hear how close he was in that one quick word.

“Mmmm,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment. “I’m so close.”

You heard him breath harshly through his nose, your affect on him undeniable. You didn’t often dirty talk like this with him but if it was a show he wanted, a show he would get.

Biting your lip, you grasped at the wrist resting on your pelvic mound, directing Alastor’s view back towards your sex. Then you looked down at yourself, at the shadowy hand that blurred around the edges but circled your swollen clit with a perfect, rapid motion and the darkness beneath it that was glistening with your slickness as it pumped in and out of you.

You twitched and clenched at the sight of it all, edging ever closer to your next orgasm, and wondered at how Alastor had lasted as long as he had.

“I’m gonna come,” you said desperately, looking back at Alastor with your neediest expression. “But I need – I need . . .”

“You need what, darling?” he asked, impatiently. You noticed his speed quicken as he pumped his cock though you were sure it was an unconscious decision on his part. Suddenly you felt like you were the one in control of the situation and let the next words flow from your lips, certain of the affect they would have on him.

“You,” you breathed. “Come for me, Alastor. I want to see it.”

The motion of the cock inside of you matched that of Alastor’s hand on his own member as the two quickened the pace in perfect sync with each other. His eyes narrowed, possibly feeling conflicted at his own loss of control but succumbing to his own desire nonetheless.

“Yes,” you sighed, giving into the sensations as well, as you moved your hips back and forth to meet the shadow that was filling you up.

You felt your body tense, felt the swelling and constricting of all your lower muscles and organs, and you thought for a second you had lost, that you were going to come once again without Alastor, but then you heard the deep, masculine grunt from your lover and looked in time to see his cock twitching in his hand, the first milky rope of his cum spurting out over his tightened fist and your orgasm hit your body like a ton of bricks.

It was a lucky thing you were in Hell because whatever noises tore from your throat were not meant to be made in Heaven. A rush of blood went to your core, your pussy clenching impossible tight on the wide shaft that still had your legs spread wide, urging even more wetness from you that coated your inner thighs and ran down your ass to pool in the sheets below you. All the while you couldn’t peel your eyes away from the wonderous sight of Alastor coming undone in front of you, spilling his seed for you and making a creamy mess all over his hand, torso, and trousers.

In the silence afterwards, it was all you could do to lay flat on your back as you felt the shadow finally retreating from your body, and you blinked up at the ceiling above, positively lost in the thoughtless post-orgasmic bliss you were experiencing.

As if from a great distance, you heard the shuffling of clothes and knew Alastor had stood and had begun undressing himself, but he didn’t approach you.

“Finish undressing her,” you heard him say, “and have your way with her.”

Excuse the fuck out of me, you thought.

He was talking to his shadow as if you weren’t even there, as if you weren’t an active participant in this, and that just wouldn’t do. Alastor may have been The Radio Demon, Hell’s most powerful and prominent Overlord, but he hadn’t fallen for you because you were the type of soul to just . . .  take things lying down, so to speak.

If he still wanted you and his shadow to go at it another round, it would be on your terms.

Those shadowy limbs reached for you again but you sat up, meeting its green eyes with a steel gaze, hard enough to halt its approach.

It solidified completely for the first time that evening, collecting its darkness into the same size and shape as Alastor’s body, and you weren’t sure if it was in acceptance of what it was reading in your expression, or as a challenge. Either way, you were ready.

You braced your hands on its shoulders and swung one leg over its hips, feeling the press of its hardness between your bodies, pinned against its stomach and your mound. Reaching between yourselves, you took the erection that was uniquely as dark as night but also as hard and velvety as the other one you knew so well, and lifted yourself up on your knees enough to line its tip up with your entrance. With a boldness that was encouraged by the sheer offense you had taken at Alastor’s words, you bore your gaze into those wide green eyes as you slowly sank yourself down, feeling every inch of it as you took in its length and bottomed out. There was a pressure, deep in your gut, as its swollen tip pressed against the very end of your deep and tight walls, and you let yourself groan as you knew Alastor would be able to feel just how completely his shadow was filling you up now that you had shifted positions.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw him standing frozen in place, his hands paused on the buttons of his shirt, and though he looked surprised, you could see him processing this change in you. There was something new in his expression, a kind of anticipation, as if he couldn’t wait to see where this new plot twist would lead him. He hadn’t expected this of you, but he wasn’t about to step in and interfere.

Before you had turned back around, you felt the shadow’s hands with those unnaturally long and slender fingers grasping at your hips and reaching around to squeeze the swell of your ass and pull you closer. Still looking at Alastor, you did as the shadow encouraged and rocked your hips; just once but in an exaggerated, slow and hard way that was clearly just a prologue to the rough and hard way you were about to ride his shadow. You could see Alastor’s jaw tense in response and smiled.

Oh, he could definitely still feel everything his shadow did.

You turned back to the shadow and leaned away from the torso that was pressed against you just enough to be able to cross your arms in front of yourself, grip the edges of your t-shirt, and slowly raise it up, giving it a good long and torturous show of exposing your mid-drift. The hem of your shirt caught on the bottom swell of your tits, pulling them up with the fabric before you lifted your arms more, letting them bounce free, your nipples reaching into hard little rosy peaks as they were exposed for the first time to the cooler air of the room. Then your shirt was up over your head and tossed to the floor, utterly forgotten as your arms came back down and wrapped around the shadow’s neck.

You could finish undressing yourself, thank you very much.

You rocked your hips again and then a second time, as slowly and teasingly as before.

“Alastor likes me on top more than he’d ever admit,” you said to the shadow, taking your turn to talk to it as if Alastor wasn’t in the room. “Likes the way I ride his cock hard and fast. Is that the way you want me to fuck you?”

Alastor said your name from behind you, almost warning you, but you ignored him, instinctually knowing he still wasn’t going to interfere.

The shadow remained silent, unable to speak, but you felt it twitch inside your cunt.

You began in earnest, bouncing yourself up and down its shaft, holding tightly to its neck and shoulders.

“Like this?” you asked again and the shadow pulled your face closer to it until your foreheads touched, its glowing eyes looking at you with such open need and adoration that words weren’t necessary. “Hmmm, yeah, just like this,” you agreed. “You feel so good. Just like him. But right now . . . ” you trailed off, digging your own demonic claws into its neck and feeling not quite flesh but something of its essence did give way beneath your talons. Still riding it, never once losing your pace, you kept eye contact as you continued, “. . . right now your cock is the one I need.” 

The shadow pulled you roughly to it then, holding your body tightly against its own, just enough to let you continue rolling your hips, letting you lift yourself up just a few inches off its length before gliding back down, continuing the devilishly rapid pace that you had set, pumping yourself up and down its cock over and over and over again.

You lost yourself then, thinking only of the shadow inside of you, beneath you, wrapped around you. It felt like it was everywhere at once, teasing and nipping at your skin, touching and stroking your body inside and out. The full-bodied man behind you was almost forgotten, but not completely. In the back of your mind, you stayed aware of his presence, his eyes on you as you took command of your own pleasure and used his shadow for yourself. And you never forgot who this shadow was a manifestation of and who was really feeling the way your body was pressed against it.

Indeed, the very thought of this new and exciting being that you had accepted into your bed still being a part of Alastor just fueled your passion. Made you cling to it a little tighter, clench your aching and dripping pussy down harder, and roll your hips a little more sensually.

You had started with a brutal pace, as if to prove a point that you weren’t to just be ordered around and used, but the longer you went, the more minutes passed by, the more the mood shifted.

The way the shadow was looking at you, as if you were giving it a gift it could never have conceived of, as if it truly appreciated the way you had embraced it, reached deep into your heart.

This was supposed to just be a senseless fucking. A reprieve for Alastor, to strip away and be done with whatever had put him in such a sour mood. And you knew that it had simply been expected of you to go along with it. You were already a much more physical person than he was and had already proved to him that you could take anything he could throw at you when it came to intercourse.

It had been one thing to let his shadow fuck you and for him to watch. It was even better that you had enjoyed it; he and his shadow had both wanted that. To watch you and feel you come for it, multiple times.

But then to want more of it, to not only accept but embrace this darkest, most malevolent part of his essence, his very soul, turned this night into something else entirely.

You were beyond just “okay” with all of this; you desired every bit of this shadow entity, would let it do anything it wanted to you, all because of how deeply and desperately you loved Alastor.

And there was something even kinkier to that, somehow. That two fucked up people, who had maimed and murdered and devoured others, had ended up together and brought each other’s walls down, saw the absolute worst and most vile sides of each other .  . . and liked what they found. You adored this darkness, reached for it, wanted it all around you and inside of you, to let it fill you up until there was nothing left but you and the man you loved.

The change didn’t happen all at once but rather over the course of several minutes but eventually you found yourself not fucking this shadow with wild and raunchy abandon, but properly and passionately making love to it.

There was a sweetness to the way you rolled your hips now, a tenderness in the way your hands roamed over its body, an acceptance in how your chest pressed against its own until it could feel the steady beat of your undead heart reverberating against it. It left you impossibly wetter than before and you leaned into this new sensual expression of your desire, daring now to even press gentle kisses along its neck.

Then there were fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your face towards it, and in with the most foreign of sensations, you realized it was kissing you. Dry but liquid lips crashed against your own, the ghost of a tongue lapped and danced its way into your mouth, but those teeth were very familiar. Their sharp sting a reminder of who this really was as it bit and sucked on your lower lip, just the way Alastor liked to do.

All at once you came, before you had any kind of warning. You cried out and panted, open-mouthed and slack jawed against the shadows lips as your body tensed, the lovely roll of your hips turning into rapid, unsteady jerks you had little control over. Alastor’s shadow held you close as you rode it out, continuing to grind against it as wave after wave hit you deep in your core, and it kissed and sucked on your neck and shoulders as your orgasm went on and on. Its kisses were strange, soothing and soft, but didn’t leave the same kind of cool, wet spots on your skin afterwards like you were used to. Its mouth had been the silkiest, smoothest texture your tongue had ever tasted but not heated and moist like Alastor’s. The mix of differences and similarities prolonged your pleasure into the longest, most stimulating orgasm you had ever experienced.

When it finally ended, you smiled against the shadow’s mouth, and its permanent grin widened in response. You nuzzled your nose against it, and it cradled the back of your head, taking the moment to enjoy this newfound intimacy. Its body was steady against yours even as you still fought to catch your breath and you laughed softly at the irony of having such a sweet and loving moment with one of Hell’s most deadly entities.

Hands gripped your shoulders from behind and pulled you away.

“My turn,” Alastor said as he forced you onto your back and crawled on top of you.

There was a second where you felt surprised and disoriented, but you recaptured your senses quickly and spread your legs to accommodate him, bringing your arms up and around his shoulders as his lips crashed hungrily against yours.

It didn’t take you but a few seconds to realize this was Alastor, completely stripped bare, both literally and figuratively. Free of all clothes and reservations, this was the lover you knew best, and he was finally ready to have close, direct contact with you.

He lingered at your mouth for a moment, demanding entrance, his tongue hot and rough against yours as he reclaimed your body for himself. Then he shifted, biting as often as he kissed, as he left a trail of marks along your jawline, throat, collar bone, and breasts.

“Touch me,” he asked, his tone guttural and full of static, almost pleading with you, before he took one of your nipples in his mouth, letting its peak slide between his teeth and then coming back down for another painful suck.

You started by running your fingers through his hair, letting your fingertips massage the tension you could feel in his scalp, before you turned your attention to his ears. You rubbed them first at the base and ran a hand up each of their sides, feeling the thick leathery skin beneath the short and dense fur. You circled the pad of your thumb against each tip, earning yourself a moan from your lover who was still intently sucking at your breasts, and then moved your hands to the base of his antlers. Pressing your fingers down, you stroked the flesh of his scalp where the antlers protruded from, having learned months ago that they became unbearably itchy whenever Alastor was irritated.

“Oh, my love,” you whispered to him. “I’m here. It’s okay now. I love you.”

He shuddered at your words, his breath coming out in hot pants that tickled your chest and gave you goosebumps, despite the heat.

“I love you,” he replied, lifting his head and moving his body back up until you lined up perfectly.

Without needing any other words to continue, he found what he was looking for in your expression and guided himself into you. You relaxed your tired muscles as his cock filled you up, welcoming the embrace of his true self and the more familiar, solid body you were used to.

You both sighed as he bottomed out and a second later, when he began to move within you, your lips met once more.

You returned his passion, letting your hands wander up and down the expanse of his back, feeling his lean and slender muscles waver between taught and relaxed at your attention. Letting your reach extend lower, you cupped his ass, pulling him tighter to you, encouraging deeper, more meaningful thrusts out of him. Then you found his upright tail, with an erect ridge of fur along its bottom length that you caressed and ran your fingers through, holding back a giggle as you felt it wag from side to side within your grip.

How you loved his tail; the most expressive, innocent part of his anatomy. It was no wonder he hid it from the world. It was positively adorable and always gave his true feelings away, but you were happy to keep its existence to yourself. It was your little secret you kept just between the two of you; a part of him he saved for your enjoyment alone.

At this point, you were getting a little sore, but you persevered, enjoying the sweet pain of being taken so many times. You were still plenty wet, more than enough to have to lean on the aid of lubricant, and the longer Alastor continued his slow and steady pace, the more you became ready for more. It was like his cock was dragging the last reserves of your desire out from within, inch by inch, stoking your pleasure from a smoldering ember into a refreshed, raging fire.

And you knew what you would need to push you over that final edge.

He had his face buried into the crook of your neck, completely absorbed in the feeling of you beneath him, but when you whispered his name, he lifted himself up enough to look into your eyes.

“I want both of you,” you said with a husky, strained voice. “All of you.”

He slowed his pace but didn’t stop completely as he grinned at you in understanding.

“So greedy,” he teased.

“Only because I want you so much.”

“And what a monster I have created,” he agreed.

The sensation of the shadow beneath you returned, where it had been when this whole thing had begun. From between your back and the sheets, you felt yourself rising up, but unlike before, there was much more than just a single layer of blackness beneath you, with only hands and a face reaching up from the sides. This time it was as real and completely solid as when you had been riding it from on top, and you felt yourself pressed between two very corporeal, masculine bodies.

The shadow wasted no time in reacquainting its hands with your body and reached between you and Alastor to begin rubbing and circling your clit, while the other arm caressed every inch of your body it could reach.

Something pressed itself between your lower cheeks and you felt the silky touch of it against your ass. Not quite a finger; it didn’t feel exactly like how Alastor occasionally touched you there, but it wasn’t wide enough to be the shadow’s cock either. A tendril, toying and caressing your tight and sensitive hole, playing with the flesh there just how you liked. The slender tentacle wormed its way into your entrance, swirling and stretching you just the slightest, giving you a shallow, pulsing feeling down there that added to your pleasure in a new and tingling way.

The shadow’s face appeared at the side of your head, and as Alastor dipped his mouth to your pulse point, yours met the shadow’s. Your fingers scratched into Alastor’s scalp and your tongue sought out his shadow’s. Wet and hot flesh danced against silky coolness. A warm body above and inside you and a misty, dark embrace took you from behind and below, and you had never felt so complete.

The tendril of shadow playing at your ass began to spread and widened and your eyes flew open as you felt the familiar, rounded tip of a cock nestled just within your entrance. It began to slide in further, easily and smoothly, as if already lubed up, but you tensed up between your two lovers.

“I don’t think- ” you gasped, knowing Alastor would feel what was happening without you having to explain. “I don’t think I can take it all.”

Alastor let go of his biting task at your neck and met your worried gaze, and you noticed he had a trace of your blood glistening on his lower lip as he smiled warmly at you. Each cock had stilled within you, one fully buried to its hilt in your pussy, and the other just a few inches inside.

“I think you can, sweetheart,” Alastor said, and his eyes darted over to his shadows for a second, before returning to yours. You felt the shadows lips on the other side of your neck, as if to sooth your worries with its touch, and Alastor continued to speak. “We can stop whenever you say the words,” his voice dropped a little lower, and his eyes shined brighter for a moment, “but you’re the one who asked for more.”

The darkness in his gaze did as he intended, and you felt your cunt gushing with desire and you willed the muscles around your ass to relax as well. You felt the slick affects of Alastor’s words dripping out of you, coating the base of his cock, and slipping down further to soak the hole the shadow was now continuing to push into.

Alastor pulled away first, then slid his length back in with an easy grace, and as his tip reached its end inside you, the shadow from beneath pulled away. Back and forth they went, in perfect, unnaturally well-done synchronicity, pumping and stroking and filling you up beyond what you thought your body capable of accepting.

And those fingers between you and Alastor, never stopping, working your clit with circles that seemed to complete a single rotation with every thrust of cock inside of you.

Now it was Alastor that was kissing you, as his shadow licked a trail from shoulder to jawline, cradling a breast in one hand, its thumb rubbing and pressing against a nipple in time with the action of the other hand against your throbbing bundle of nerves at the peak of your sex.

It was so much, all at once, and you could hardly move, pinned as you were between the two bodies. You were completely at their mercy as they fucked you together, two halves of one entity, working in tandem to draw out every sigh and moan of pleasure from your lips.

The deep intense pressure of it, of being penetrated so completely, of having two utterly gorgeous bodies worshipping yours and taking turns to move within you, was sheer, Hellish bliss. It ached and burned and stung and stretched you out and it was fucking amazing.

There was a rising tide within you, like a looming tsunami on the horizon, much more intense than even the last orgasm. It felt like you were pulling away from yourself, being dragged deep within, where nothing else existed but the two sets of lips on your flesh, the four hands caressing your body, the two cocks diving into you harder and harder with every passing second. Every desperate gasp of air you took in the only motion you seemed capable of making until those last few seconds.

One of your hands gripped at the shadow arm around your waist, nails digging in desperately, as you arched yourself forward and bit onto Alastor’s shoulder, and the massive wave of pleasure rocked your body like a freight train and something released inside of you.

You felt the rush of fluid from inside and out as your orgasm exploded out of you. The heat of it trickled down your thighs, soaking all three of your bodies where they were joined. Now the sound of Alastor’s thrusts, him and his shadows, took on an even wetter, more lewd noise and before you had processed what had happened, before the shaking of your body subsided, and at the very tail end of your own orgasm, Alastor found his own release.

His seed filled you up, hitting your cervix and coating every inch of your inner walls, as if to replace the essence of yourself you had just squirted all over him with his own. To mark you from deep within, just as he had done to your flesh when he first climbed on top of you.

And then the greatest surprise of the evening came when you watched as his shadow slithered out from beneath you and into Alastor; melting into him like two pictures being molded into one.

It shouldn’t have shocked you as you had seen this happen with your own eyes on countless of occasions but still, in the heat of the moment – or, well, technically the heat of the last hour or so – had made you forget that Alastor and his shadow spent more time as one than they did apart.

Alastor had literally split himself in two in order to experience what you two had just done and the realization of it made a fit of laughter burst out of you.

You covered your mouth in shock, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, but as he titled his head, those large deer ears of his flopping a little to the side at his confusion, you laughed even harder.

He was still inside of you, already softening, but his eyes were growing harder as they stared down at you in growing irritation. But you couldn’t help yourself, the absurdity and debauchery of the whole evening left you not knowing what else to do with yourself but laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you gasped through your laughter and he rolled his eyes and grunted as he pulled out of you and laid on his side, still watching you.

You had just about composed yourself when you took in the sight of him, perched up on one elbow, an eyebrow raised at you, his dick soft and flopping on full display for you, and you snorted with laughter again, burying your face in the bed beneath you.

“I had anticipated many reactions from you, but this was not one of them,” he deadpanned.

You choked back more laughter, sighing as you rolled onto your back for a moment, catching your breath. With one last little chuckle, you turned your head back towards him.

“Blame it on the endorphins.”

“Endor- what?” he asked, more confused and irritated than ever.

“Endorphins. They’re produced when you have sex. And you just ripped five fucking orgasms from me and made me squirt – which I’ve never done before. You fucked me silly, Al’. Deal with the consequences.” And you giggled some more, drunk and giddy on the rush of hormones and love you were feeling at the moment.

His whole body softened then and he reached forward and took your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I suppose after the day I’ve had, your laughter is the best medicine I could have asked for.”

You snuggled closer to him, pressing your body into his, and curled up into his longer form.

“Stay with me tonight? Please?”

He kissed your forehead.

“But of course,” he said softly.

You heard the soft snap of his fingers and with a poof felt the bedding beneath you change into freshly clean and soft sheets that weren’t soiled by sex, sweat, and a variety of other bodily fluids. The sticky mess between your legs also disappeared . . . almost. You felt a thick wetness still deep within you and suspected Alastor had purposefully left just a bit of his cum in you, a little secret to keep you marked as his.  

A few minutes went by and as you dozed back to sleep, you noticed the change in rhythm of his breathing, and the slackness in his expression, and knew he had fallen asleep before you had.

You sat up halfway, studying his sleeping form, noting that his ever-present smile had disappeared. It wasn’t the first time you had slept in the same bed as him but you always fell asleep first and he always woke before you. This was the first time you had been treated to the site of Alastor’s sleeping form and you took a minute to marvel at how beautiful he was like this.

Then you leaned forward and pressed your lips between his eyes, where that mysterious “x” often showed itself when his more demonic forms came forward.

“I love you. Both of you,” you whispered and then settled into his arms, drifting off into dreams of shadow and darkness.

Part 6

Thank you to all who asked to be added to the tag-list for this series!

@readergirlstuff @thereallsaturnstar @somefancybb @moonstarrs11 @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @rhiannaleek @selenezq @speedycoffeedelight @saturn-alone @whoknowswhoiamtoday @quill-to-book @sirens-and-moonflowers

[dropthedemiurge]

Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo: Things you didn't notice #1

Isn't this another K-BL where I'm internally squealing because of every single detail? You bet it is. You can read my other meta/cultural detail/Korean language posts for Love for Love's Sake, Time of Fever, Grey Shelter and Boys be Brave on my pinned post or hashtags^^ (I really need to organize it under one singly hashtag tho...)

I already talked about how impressed I am with the fact that this series has done their preparation job well, with props, settings, language, history etc.

It is about a countryside/small town in Southern province of Korea - because a lot of characters use satoori (southern dialect), almost all of them except for the main two guys. There is also a distinct contrast/conflict between 'fancy Seoul rich guys' looking down on 'Southern town'. Juyoung even was surprised Dohoi doesn't use satoori.

To which, he responded with 'You'll be uncomfortable if I use it". And Juyoung said there are plenty other uncomfortable things around here, beside understanding/listening to everyone using other accent xD Confusing Gaga translation errors, we meet again!

Actually, it's interesting because Dohoi's name is written 이도회 in Korean, which typically would be written as 'Dohoi' but pronounced as 'Dohwe' (think of surname Choi that is actually pronounced as Chwe), yet in the first episode I clearly heard them actually say 'Dohoi', letter by letter. Now I wonder if it's also related to satoori... I wish I could speak it, it sounds so cool tbh.

He actually said 'I'm not in a good condition', meaning his physical form. What do you mean, mood, when was that ever an excuse in sports..?xD

By the way, what is it with boys trying to get closer to other boys by buying them unusual ice cream?:') Okay, garlic sounds more weird than red bean one :D

Also, I tried to find the Hasong town they talked about but failed - maybe because of incorrect transcription or maybe they made up this town based on Uiseong - a small town close to Daegu which is famous for being the most famous garlic town, they produce a lot of it and garlic fame would be seen everywhere - so who knows, I bet they allude to this when Juyoung said 'why can't there be a vanilla garlic ice cream? It's like a collaboration!'

Another thing, I thought the time of this series was somewhere around 1990s-2000s (because I watched a movie in similar setting that was called 1997 year but they still used pagers, now that I think about it). It was also still the time where teachers could use physical punishment on their students, it's heavily highlighted but I don't actually know around what time they stopped... Probably in Seoul, they already were getting rid of it but in small towns it was old-school teaching, which is again why Dohoi tried to tell Joyoung out of it.

I'm not familiar when small laptops and phones appeared in Seoul but I think the series is actually somewhere around 2005-2010! Which would make sense, Juyoung got the 'cool' flip-phone and a laptop with Windows XP (released in 2001) but small town is still far from that, as they use landline house phones to make a call.

He also has mp3 player and as other tumblr folks figured out, he was listening and dancing to Jewelry song released in 2005 :)

And another thing that convinced me about the time era... the final scene!

Do you want to know why at the end of Ep 1 Dohoi smiled and laughed and ran to Juyoung even after so many exhausting days and neverending small miseries and a new loud housemate?

Because Juyoung not only came to pick him up with an umbrella in the acid rain, he also reenacted the famous umbrella scene from the classic romantic K-drama called "Temptation of Wolves" (늑대의 유혹) which was released in 2004! To make Dohoi laugh.

(Yes, when Juyoung intentionally put the umbrella down and the camera cut the shot to the framing when the umbrella slowly lifts up, showing smiling Juyoung, I was like 'you did nooooooot' xD)

(last screenshots taken from @heretherebedork post, I'm sorry I am very lazy and cannot take a good screenshot for life :'))

So that was already our very first romantic teasing-implication!

Another cute thing: optimistic Joyoung wrote a diary entry into the fake old Korean "Facebook" (they had Cyworld instead) to share his first selfie with Dohoi:

"[Excited Shin Jjuyoung]" (typing in a popular back then teenage style) "I miss you guys... But here it's nice too hehe ^___^ Come to play with me!! Together with my friend Dohoi too~~!"

Aren't they the cuteestttttt? I mean, this dynamic is not new but I love how unique the setting is. And I can't wait to watch the second episode, I'm waiting and savoring the first one for now but I'm going to make notes about other episodes as well so stay tuned! If you reply/comment in tags, I will put you in my tag list^^

Tag list: @benkaben @pickletrip @troubled-mind

[astarioffsimpmain]

Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner. 

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind. 

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw. 

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind. 

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words. 

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away." 

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart." 

My heart. 

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze. 

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you." 

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little. 

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew." 

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl. 

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest. 

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened. 

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest. 

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent. 

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside. 

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so. 

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself. 

fin

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 9:foreign affairs, series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 9! anyways, stan y/n l/n for clear skin and good grades!✨😌

INSTAGRAM, july 18

liked by carlossainz, landonoriss, and 12,654,234 others

yourinstagram mood :') gonna cry all day lol. thank you for your warmth. thank you for listening n hearing me. i love you.

View all 64,627 comments

ntltcy/n whoever said the second slide is so real

danielricciardo I said what I said

zendaya ma’am is taking up all 10 spots on the 10 ten…that’s my best friend ❤️!!!

channeleclerc16_ she should just stick to acting…

beyonce well deserved! the song brought actual tears to my eyes

 yourinstagram beyonce  screaming crying shaking…thank u, i love u always

leclerc_pascale beautiful girl congrats

 yourinstagram leclerc_pascale  thank u mama

drewstarkey on repeat i fear 

ferarrileclerc i mean ... since the song is about charles that means he got another number one hit! charles congrats baby!

harrystyles A beautiful song from an even more beautiful person. Congratulations, Y/n/n—H.

ypurinstagram thank u sweet angel. miss you!

redlipclassicy/n harrystyles yourinstagram WHAT THE FUCK

JULY 18, 2023

Lola Ransdell Under Fire for Using the N-Word in Resurfaced Tweets

Not a good look.

BY ALLY JULY 17, 2023 11:15 AM

Lola Randell has some explaining to do. The 25-year-old came under fire on Sunday when Twitter users began resurfacing tweets of the model using the N-word in 2020. The receipts included direct messages and Instagram comments, in which Ransdell called her friends the racial slur, as well as tweets from Ransdell claiming that she could use the N-word because she’s “not white.”

In screenshots resurfaced by the Twitter PopHub, Ransdell can be seen calling someone an “ugly” N-word. The screenshots also include a group chat with some of her friends, in which she is called out for using the N-word. In her response, Randell explains that she can use the derogatory term because she’s not white. (Ransdell’s mother is Brazilian, but that still does not excuse her behavior.) “I’m not white tho so that’s awk,” Ransdell responded.

However, the receipts don’t end there. Along with the first screenshots, some users also resurfaced other old tweets, in which Ransdell said that she returned a “different race” after she spent some time tanning in Florida. (She accompanied the tweet with an emoji of a man with a turban.) Another screenshot also shows Ransdell liking a 2020 meme comparing Jay-Z to a Ransdell. One user also claimed to have a video of Ransdell rapping the N-word, though the audio is unclear.

Ransdell allegedly once tweeted, "leaving to Florida white but coming back to NY a different Race." The statement was accompanied by an emoji of a white blonde man and an emoji of a darker-skinned man wearing a turban.

A post from 2019 read, "With @chanteljefferies and that awkward moment when ur at a Chinese restaurant and your waiter isn't Chinese...."

The following year, she allegedly threatened, "Shut up before I smack you back to your own country!"

Screenshots also show the youtuber allegedly liking an Instagram post from 2018 about how only men and women should marry because the Bible says so.

Then there are the women-hating posts.

Ransdell allegedly liked an undated Instagram post showing a photo of Selena Gomez that posed the question, "Would you smack her for $835 BILLION?!" The person whose reply was featured in the meme read, "I'd smack her for a sweet tea from McDonald's."

In 2018, Ransdell allegedly tweeted about transgendered women" being "wicked slutty."

She's also been accused of openly hating on her boyfriend’s former partner, Y/n L/n.

Once a fan of Charles (and even of Charles and Y/n together), Ransdell  seemingly turned on the 26-year-old singer when "Your/Ship/Name" was on the rocks.She allegedly once followed a Y/n L/n  hate account on Instagram and allegedly favorited/liked a tweet from 2022 that showed a picture of Y/n and read, "She collects guys as if they were infinity stones."

How these receipts surfaced is unclear (many of them are private messages between Ransdell and her friends, so someone must have leaked them on the internet), but it’s certain that people aren’t happy with Ransdell using slur, even as a joke. After the tweets resurfaced, many users took to Twitter to call out Ransdell for her offensive behavior, as well as demand accountability and an apology from her and her Formula One boyfriend, Charles Leclerc. 

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• Charles Leclerc finally addresses messy breakup with Singer Y/n L/n.

•Harry Styles just commented on Y/n L/n’s Instagram post for the first time in 7 years.

• Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince: Harry Styles and Y/n L/n’s relationship timeline

INSTAGRAM, july 18

liked by f1wh0re, corneliastreety/n, and 546,782 others

y/naflorals CHAR!ES SPEAKING ABOUT MOTHER TODAY IN AN INTERVIEW

View all 512 comments

dressy/n no comment.

lewismercedes ur joe king…ur joe. king.

leclerc16charles as a charles fan…idk either i’m sorry

TWITTER, july 18

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 18

yourinstagram 9m

viewed by charlotee_siine, lewishamilton, and 245,321 others

TWITTER, july 18

ally’s radio 📻:i don’t like this chapter 😞. also pls know that anything that was mentioned within lola’s article is not something i condone!! pls don’t think i’m a bad person, it’s literally only just for the plot😭!! i got inspo off of hailey biebers old tweets sooo. if u see ur username but u weren’t tagged, it’s bc tumblr wouldn’t let me :( if u asked me to tag u and i didn’t, pls send me a message or inbox me bc it might’ve gotten lost 😭 i try to stay up-to-date but sometimes i miss people so pls lmk!!!

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr@slytherinjimin3nthusiast@shessthunderstoms@cool-ultra-nerd@ncentic@playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj@chasing-liberosis@laneyspaulding19@a-daydreamersday@saikikusouswife@motorsp0rt@lifesuckslife@shessthunderstoms@drewsandsebastianswife @sainzluvrr@ietss @agustdlvr @sarahkaliii @sweethoneyblossom1@sticksdoesart @ayoanna @c0wgirlswag @ifionlywould @l1ghtaura @ellesmythe @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[unhinged-as-hell]

Hello!

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth

Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.

They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.

I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.

Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk

When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.

It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.

Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.

Posts here and here

Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?

Yeah...

Actively calling out anon

Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.

Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.

Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.

Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.

Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.

Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.

Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?

Good. Moving on.

After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.

This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.

A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.

Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-

I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.

1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?

2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.

3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves

4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.

5) it felt just fucking dull

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.

I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.

I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.

I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.

Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.

If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.

So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget.

Post by my friend Eden

I am tagging Jack's taglist

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane

[krirebr]

Beyond These Walls in Front of Me

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Andy brings you into a new part of your home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, training, references to punishment, isolation - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here is the winner of the poll I posted last week, asking you all to help me choose the next part of this AU to work on. Of all the options, this was the one that was least fleshed out in my head, but I really like how it turned out! A quick reminder that this is an out-of-order AU, so this one is obviously after reader's first day but before Christmas.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who always tolerates me sending countless screenshots and answered my endless questions of "Is this too much? Not enough? Does it make sense??"

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up at the buzz of your wristband. Andy’s arm was slung over your side as he snuffled into your neck in his sleep. You took a moment just to breathe, to gather your strength for the day. You could afford that time, you hoped. You didn’t think it’d put you behind schedule. Then, you got up, exceedingly careful not to disturb the man who shared your bed. You had learned your lesson, there. It was time to start your morning routine.

You took a shower, and using all the products he liked, cleaned yourself thoroughly. Once you were done and dried off, you applied moisturizer to your entire body. You’d given yourself a manicure and pedicure yesterday, so your hands and feet shouldn’t need attention, but you still double-checked to make sure the polish hadn’t chipped. Then it was time for hair and makeup.

Andy liked the sort of ‘low-maintenance, natural’ look that actually took forty-five minutes so you didn’t have time to waste. You got out all your toners, primers, serums, powders, gels, stains, etc. Thank god for the wide counter and twin sinks because you needed all that room to make yourself perfect for him. You avoided looking yourself in the eye in the mirror as much as you could. You already knew what you would find there. Emptiness. You didn’t need to see it again.

Once your makeup was done and your hair was in one of his approved styles, you tiptoed into the walk-in closet that he’d left unlocked and put on the outfit he’d picked out for you last night. It was a dress. Of course, it was. It always was. You hadn’t worn pants in… well, you weren’t sure how long. Time was slippery these days.

You stepped back into the bedroom to find Andy just starting to stir. You closed your eyes for just a moment, bracing yourself, then went to his side of the bed. With a gentle hand, you brushed his hair back from his face, then placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sir,” you cooed. Your hand traveled down from the top of his head to cup his cheek, just how he liked, and he nuzzled into it as he hummed sleepily. He didn’t open his eyes though, so you slowly pulled back your hand and made your way to the bedroom door.

You held your wristband up to the sensor and the door unlocked. You knew that if you looked back, you’d see Andy’s phone on his nightstand, lit up with the alert. So you didn’t look back.

As you walked down the hall, you couldn’t help the way you sort of held your breath as you walked past the punishment room as quickly as you could. Andy had taken to leaving its door open lately, in case you needed the reminder. You kept your eyes forward and didn’t look inside.

Once you got to the kitchen, you immediately started preparing breakfast. Andy had mentioned last night that he was in the mood for pancakes, so you got out the ingredients, along with eggs and bacon, and got to work. Breakfast was the most stressful meal to make because the timing was so delicate. Take too long and it wouldn’t be ready when he came out, which would displease him. But make things too quickly and they would just sit and get cold, which you had learned quickly also made him angry. So you kept an ear open to the bedroom and hoped for the best. 

It lined up well today because just as you were stacking the last pancake on the serving plate, Andy came out and wrapped himself around your back at the stove. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, so it must be Saturday. That meant you’d gotten to sleep in a little this morning. How nice.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, in between peppering kisses down your neck.

You didn’t shrug him off. “Good morning, Sir,” you said. “Breakfast is ready.”

He made a hungry little moan into your neck. “Everything smells so fucking good. Including you.” He finally let you go, picked up the cup of coffee you had ready for him, and took his seat at the table.

When you brought the food over to him, he tilted his head up in expectation. Without grimacing, you lowered your head and kissed him. He took control, as always, with a hand on the back of your head. The most important thing was not resisting him. You’d learned that the hard way.

Once he released you, you started to move away so you could make your own breakfast (oatmeal and fresh fruit like usual), when he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Hold on,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.” 

Your stomach dropped. No. What had you done wrong?? You’d been trying so hard to be good! You were good. You were. 

You nervously glanced at him to find him looking at you curiously. He held your gaze for a moment, then commanded, “Kneel.” 

You froze, for just a second. This was new. You weren’t sure where it was going. Maybe he wanted you to keep his cock warm while he ate. You could do that. You could. You could do a lot of things if it kept you out of the punishment room.

You dropped to your knees at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes and a wide smile bloomed on his face. He gently cupped your cheek with his hand and cooed, “Such a good girl.” Then he straightened his hand and tapped your cheek twice with his fingers. “Get up, sweetheart.”

You stood up, visibly confused, and let him guide you onto his lap. He just held you there for a bit, just stroking his hand up and down your arm. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’ve been so good lately. So obedient. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been trying. How much you’ve improved.”

You didn’t need any prompting to say, “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. That’s why I think you’re ready.”

Your brows furrowed. “Ready for what, sir?”

The smile he gave you was gentle, proud. “To move upstairs with me.”

“Upstairs?” you gasped. You didn’t know how to react to that. Upstairs had always been a far-off future thing. Just do what he says so you can get upstairs had always been the mantra, but now that the time had come, what did it mean? What should you do?

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said. “Upstairs. We finally get to start our lives together.”

“I–” you started and stopped, suddenly overcome by fear. You didn’t know what was upstairs. You only knew the basement, only knew what to expect in the basement. “What do I need to do, sir?” you finally asked.

“Right now,” he said, his tone full of amusement, “why don’t you get me another cup of coffee? Then you can make yourself breakfast and when you’re done eating, clean up the kitchen. I’ll take a shower after breakfast, that should give you some time. Then I’ll bring you upstairs.”

You hated the relief you felt at knowing what to do. “Yes sir,” you said as you scrambled off his lap and headed straight to the coffee maker. Andy watched you with a satisfied grin on his face.

You turned around halfway up the stairs, Andy right behind you. “You’re sure this is ok, sir?” What if this was a trick or a test? What if he changed his mind when you got to the top and you’d be punished?

He just raised an eyebrow. “Are you second-guessing me, sweetheart?” His tone was still light, but you knew you’d messed up.

You shook your head frantically. “No! No, sir. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”

He brushed his fingertips down your cheek. “I know you will, sweetheart. Now, turn around and keep going.”

You did as he said and finished climbing the stairs. When you got to the top, you tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. You held your wristband up to the sensor but nothing happened. Oh god. As you started to turn around to ask him what to do, he crowded into you, pressing you into the door, covering you with his body so you couldn’t see what he was doing. But you heard the beeps of a keypad.

And then his arm wrapped around your stomach to hold you as he opened the door and he was nudging you onto the main floor.

The first thing you noticed was how bright it was. There were windows! Sunlight was streaming in. As soon as Andy let go of you, you ran to the nearest window and turned your face up into the light. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you swore you could feel the sun’s warmth through the glass. You hadn’t seen daylight in… you had no idea. You hadn’t been able to keep track of time down there, but months. It must have been months. Tears started to gather in your eyes and you tried to blink them away. He only liked it when you cried during sex or punishments, otherwise you were being manipulative. You couldn’t do anything that would rob you of this sunlight.

“Sweetheart,” he called from behind you. When you didn’t register that, he called your name, a hint of sternness sneaking into his tone. That got your attention and you looked over your shoulder. “Come here,” he said.

You pulled yourself from the window and went to stand in front of him. He put his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now,” he said seriously, “being upstairs comes with a lot of privileges, but it doesn’t mean you can forget all your rules, ok? Or that you’re done training. I expect you to be just as good up here as you were down there. And if we have to go back downstairs, for whatever reason, I need you to know that it will be much worse for you. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, big and genuine and you thought briefly of how that smile would make you melt on anyone else. “You can call me Andy now, sweetheart. That’s one of the privileges I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, the honorific so engrained in you it just tumbled out. “I mean, Andy,” you corrected yourself hurriedly, committing the new rule to memory. “Thank you, Andy.”

He cupped your cheek. “You're welcome sweetheart,” he cooed. “I am gonna miss the way you say ‘sir,’ though,” he added with a lascivious glint in his eye. 

You stood as still as you could as he ran his thumb under your eye, collecting the tears that had gathered there. He looked you dead in the eye, and you couldn’t help but lower your eyes in response. “Come on,” he said, with a grin in his voice. “Let me give you a tour of the house.”

He took you into the kitchen first, of course, and immediately started extolling all its virtues, but you couldn’t hear him. And you could only see one thing. On the stove, in the middle of all the controls, was a digital clock. It read 10:37. It was the morning because of the light streaming through the windows. (There were even more in this room. There were windows everywhere.) And it was Saturday because Andy was home today and he hadn’t been home yesterday. It was 10:37 on a Saturday morning. Holy shit. Downstairs, you hadn’t had any indication of time passing other than the buzz of your wristband letting you know it was time to get up, or start a chore, or make a meal. But now, it was 10:37. And the next time you looked at it, you would know exactly how much time had passed since now. Time would mean something. You wouldn’t be adrift anymore.

You were crying. You couldn’t help it. Andy turned back to you, one hand still on one of the two stacked ovens that were built into the cabinetry as the other moved to his hip. “What’s wrong?” he asked harshly.

You shook your head urgently. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Tell me the truth, sweetheart,” he said, with that tone that said you were on your way to the quiet room, at the very least.

Your eyes darted around the kitchen frantically, trying to find an answer that would appease him. “No, it’s nothing. I’m alright. I just– It’s so much. I’m– I’m overwhelmed. I feel so much.” It was much more honest than you usually were with him, not counting the early days when you would scream what you really thought of him before you understood the consequences. But you didn’t know what else to say.

He took a few steps, closing the space between you and it took every muscle in your body to make yourself stand your ground, not flinch away. As soon as he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, honey,” he said, his tone so much gentler than before. “I know. I’m so happy to have you up here, too. This is going to be so good for us.” He just stood and held you, running a soft hand up and down your back. After a few moments, he asked, “Ready to see the rest of the house?”

You knew the correct answer, so you ducked your head and said, “Yes, Andy,” as he released you. He grabbed your hand tightly and quickly tugged you into the next room.

You absently took in the large sectional, the big TV on one of the walls, more windows, but mostly you were struck by how much bigger the living room was than its basement counterpart. You’d assumed, foolishly, apparently, that the square footage of where you’d been living roughly matched the main floor above it, but as you looked around you were sure that this floor at least doubled where you’d spent the last who knows how long. You couldn’t help the shiver that traveled through you as you wondered what else was down there. 

There was a dining room and another sitting room next but you weren’t taking anything in, couldn’t describe anything about this house if pressed other than typical upscale suburban fare. It fit him. You had the sudden, chilling, thought that maybe it would fit you too someday. Soon. If you continued to become who he wanted you to be. Because you already were. As much as you’d tried to stay yourself, especially at the beginning, you felt all the ways he’d ground you down, all the ways you’d changed. You remembered how easily you’d slipped down to your knees just an hour or so before. Just because he’d told you to. You wanted to cry again, but you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t like that. And wasn’t that just all there was?

As you came upon the stairs leading to the next floor, you stopped dead in your tracks without thinking, your hand falling out of Andy’s now lax grip. The front door. It was just… right there. For anyone to use. Anyone to enter. Or exit. A thousand thoughts flew through your mind all at once. You could just run. Right now. Maybe with the element of surprise, you’d get a head start. There were hooks on the wall, and on one of them hung a set of keys, what looked like car keys with a few others. Grab them and run and maybe you could do it! But where would you go? You didn’t know this neighborhood, this town. You didn’t have anyone you could go to for help. You didn’t have any form of ID. Last you knew, Andy had all of your papers and cards locked up in his safe. And those were all the new ones he’d gotten for you. Your original identity, your real one had been destroyed. You knew. He’d made you watch him do it. 

As you argued with yourself, on the verge of saying fuck it and making a run for it despite all the reasons not to, you noticed a small black sensor to the right of the doorknob, identical to the ones downstairs. The ones that your wristband would unlock only if it was an authorized time. The ones Andy controlled on his phone. 

You looked up to find him already on the first stair, his gaze locked on you. Your indecision couldn’t have lasted that long. Just a few seconds, if that. But, as he stared at you, you felt like he could see every thought you’d ever had. You wanted to shrink back, maybe run down the stairs to the basement before he threw you there himself, crawl into the punishment room, and beg for mercy. 

But before you could do anything, he held out his hand. “Ready to see the bedrooms?” he asked. His face was completely blank, his tone betraying nothing. 

You tried to do the same, to not shake or look or sound guilty as you said, “Yes, Andy,” and took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.

On the second floor, he brought you down the hall, bypassing several doors before pulling you into the room right at the end. It was huge, was your first thought. So much bigger than the room you’d spent the last who knows how long in. The walls were painted a light blue-gray, all the furniture – dressers and nightstands, a much darker gray. The bed was one of the biggest you’d seen, Californian King at least, maybe even Alaskan. It was covered with plush, fluffy bedding and lots of pillows, all in different shades of blue, with a light gray, stuffed, and quilted headboard resting against the wall. It all screamed luxury and relaxation. You were reminded of those home improvement shows you used to watch when you had the freedom to. They’d talk about how your bedroom should be a sanctuary, everything chosen to inspire relaxation and calmness. This was the sort of room they were talking about. You could have laughed, as all you could feel was the foreboding presence of Andy, standing by the door, watching your every move. You’d never relax in here.

You continued to explore the room, trying to act like you couldn’t feel his suffocating gaze on you. Your eyes slid over the ensuite to the two walk-in closets. You immediately noticed that there were no locks on the doors. Did that mean you’d be allowed to pick out your own clothes? And did that even matter if everything was chosen by him in the first place? 

You turned back to find that he’d taken several steps closer to where you stood in the middle of the room. “I know,” he said, “that I should’ve shown you the other rooms first, but I’ve been desperate to get you inside our room, see what you look like in it.” His arms came up around you, pulling you tight to him. “You’re perfect. You fit perfectly. In this whole house. You feel it too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said by rote, but you did feel it. You knew exactly what he meant. You fit perfectly, just like the nightstands, or the couch downstairs, all the tables and chairs. Just another piece of furniture that he picked out specifically to make his home perfect.

His hand came up under your chin, tilting your face so that you had to make eye contact. “I’m so happy I bought you,” his words chilled you as he went out of his way to remind you of your place here. “You were worth every penny.”

You closed your eyes for the shortest moment, letting yourself feel the horror. Then you opened them, met his gaze, and said, “Thank you, Andy.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki

[thegoldencontracts]

Too Late!

You and Azul are texting each other one day when he accidentally sends you some more honest texts.

Note/Warnings: Azul/Reader, fluff with a smidgen of angst (specifically Azul insecurities, he gets comforted tho)

You loved Azul. A lot. You'd been dating him for quite a while now, after all. But you couldn't deny that it felt like he was a bit- formal with you, to say the least. Sometimes, it felt like he was playing the role of a perfect boyfriend in a Romance Novel's screen adaptation. How did he really feel? Was he happy to be somewhere, or was he just playing along so that the other students in his dorm could see how attractive and understanding he was while they seethed in envy at the fact that they were single and he wasn't?

Which was why when Azul slipped up one day when you were texting, you were very, very happy about it.

It was a boring evening, like always. You were texting Azul, complaining about your homework while lounging in your bed like always. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Zuzuuu <3: You know, if you'd like, I'd be happy to assist with your homework. It'll even be on the house, just for you.

Me: cant believe im dating a capitalist mf /lh

Me: really tho, tysmmm for helping <3 I don't deserve u bbg...

And then, something completely out of the ordinary happened.

Zuzuuu <3: how could you say that you're literally so perfect? I love you so much I keep doodling you bc you're so. Pretty. I simp so hard for you plz never say that again <3

At first, you wondered if Floyd wrote the text as a joke. It was pretty in character for him, after all. But that didn't make sense. This wasn't Floyd's way of texting, nor did it even attempt to imitate Azul's. When Floyd was in the mood to prank someone, he put in the effort to make it good.

Whatever. You took a screenshot of the message so you could treasure it forever. And lucky you, because right after you did, the message was deleted.

Zuzuuu <3: Please don't say such things about yourself, even for comedic purposes.

He was not being slick with that. You sent a text in response, giggling all the while.

Zuzuuu <3: Regardless, would you like to come over later today?

Me: Real slick hehe... Plz show me ur doodles of me they probably look so good bc you're good at art just like everything else somehow

After a while, Azul replied.

Zuzuuu <3: I don't know what you're referring to. Regardless, would you like to come over?

As much as you wanted to press, you decided not to. Too much pressing would just make Azul clam up more. You'd just have to get him in person, where it'd be harder for him to run away when you showed him the screenshot.

Me: Sureee! Heading over right now

And so, you set out for Octavinelle, evidence in hand. You were going to make him admit he sent that text.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you got to Azul's room, you had everything planned out. He wasn't usually so candid with you, and he was clearly ashamed of it when he was. You were going to figure out why.

You knocked on the door, and Azul opened it, letting you in.

"Come in," he said, tone even more formal than usual, by some miracle.

"Thanks," you said, taking a seat.

"So, about that text-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Azul said, quick to cut you off.

"So quick to interrupt, Azul!" You said with a mock-pout, before grinning as you pulled up the screenshot on your phone. "But I think you do."

First, Azul's mouth hung open in shock. Then, his whole face turned red, lip quivering as a high-pitched whine left his mouth. Then, he moved to snatch the phone from your hands.

You narrowly dodged, and you couldn't resist sticking out your tongue at him.

"Too slow!" You laughed as he tried to grab the phone from you again, only to fail even more without the element of surprise on his side, because for all of Azul's many strengths, speed wasn't one of them.

"Delete that at once!" He shrieked, voice cracking in the middle.

He kept trying to grab it for a while, before finally giving up.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, pouting like a kid. Cute. "You win. Are you satisfied now?"

"Very," you said, "because I get to see you. Your actual thoughts. Not just the ultra-filtered version."

Azul scoffed at that, seemingly in disbelief, though you saw the way he stifled a smile.

"Don't flatter me," he said. "My 'true thoughts' are not something you'd want to see in the slightest. Merely a more pathetic, messy version of what I already tell you."

"And that's precisely why I want to hear it," she said. "You sound so perfect all the time that I wonder whether you're really being honest with me, you know. It's just so refreshing to see you be gushy and candid about things. And pretty cute."

"How odd," he said, before turning to you with a face more genuine. "Thank you. For what little it's worth, I'll try to be a tad more honest with you. I can't promise anything, though."

You smiled.

"That's all I ask."

And really, truly, that was enough.

Bonus:

"So, how'd you learn so much internet lingo? Never took you for that kinda guy."

"I'm in the board games club with Idia Shroud. What did you expect?"

[etfrin]

⤷❝NSFW Alphabets | Ethan Landry❞ ┈• ˎˊ-

GF! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

— he is often too tired after the act so it's just cuddles, if the sex is hardcore or involves kinks (like knife play) then no matter what he will always makes sure you're clean by drawing you a bath and helping you and then cuddles with your ass the entire night while whispering praises about how good you are.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

— his favorite are his hands because he gets to hold you. He likes you in his arms. He is a hugger. His love language is acts of service and definitely physical touch.

For you though, definitely your hips and thighs.

He likes to keep a hand on your hips at all times in public letting people know subtly you're taken. And he absolutely loves how you crush his head with your thighs while he is eating you out. Definitely places a shit ton of hickeys on your inner thighs to make you even more wet and because you look so pretty with love bites.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

— he likes to cum in you, he loves to watch his cum fall out of you. It's an obscene sight and it makes him hard. He goes feral about it, cumming in you again and again until you have a small bulge in your tummy. He doesn't even realize he's breeding you like a bitch in heat would.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

— ethan's dirty secret is how much he gets turned on by seeing you scared or crying. The man definitely dresses up as Ghostface and calls you to scare the shit out of you and then fucks you (as himself) reassuringly afterwards because he's gonna protect from everything bad, no one can ever hurt as long as he's there.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

— at first no, he was a virgin before you. But he actually researches (watching porn) for you and tries out new things. He is eager so he learns quickly enough.

F= Favorite position

— riding or missionary. Easy and quick explanation is that he likes to see you, your expressions and reactions. He has low self esteem so seeing you enjoying yourself helps heighten his confidence and his pleasure.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

— at first he's so awkward. So fucking awkward. He has no clue what he is doing and everything he does is clumsy and unsure. So you get plenty of laughs out of teasing him and helping him learn but further along the line it's a bit more serious.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

— he makes sure to regularly trim and yes, the carpet definitely matches the drapes.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

— it definitely depends on the day. Most of the time he is sweet, gentle and caring. But if it's a bad day, if he had a shitty day, do not doubt. He will use you, forget the fact that you're his lover. You're a toy for him. He will manhandle you, give your body bruises and be so so fucking rough with his thrusts. At that moment he doesn't care about you, you're not even on his mind, he just needs to feel better by using you.

(After he calms down though, he starts crying because he thinks you'll leave him and you'll be like that's the best orgasm I ever had, Ethan STFU, it's me I am you)

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

— he won't ever try to force you if you're not in the mood so he does jack off a lot. Especially in the beginning of the relationship he would have screenshots of your Instagram posts and would definitely jack off to those and from listening to your voicemails. Sometimes if he got too desperate he would call you while jacking off just so your voice can send him over the edge and you don't even realize it.

A few months into the relationship, he still jacks off, usually it's now with phone sex and sexting and he steals your panties and buys new ones to make up.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

— KNIFE PLAY, HE IS GHOSTFACE! Breeding kink, doesn't even realize it, just likes to cum in you as much as he can. Overstimulation, it goes hand in hand with breeding. Occasional breath play. He is a switch so likes receiving just as much as he likes giving. Blood play, so you're always satisfied even when you're having your period. Somnophilia, bondage and sometimes predator/prey (only after he reveals the fact he is Ghostface, that he brings this particular kink in, he loves the thrill of it, he gets off on it so bad. Occasional edging, poor boy doesn't wanna cum too soon.)

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

— bedroom. If he's too needy then sometimes he would call you in a closet or somewhere you can do something to quick, just to itch the need before you can have some time alone for a proper thorough fuck.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

— you breathing. No, honestly, anything you do would turn him on. Kissing his cheek. Wearing his clothes. Calling him yours. Yea, he is an easy one. What absolutely ruins him though is when you wear his clothes or when you're on his lap and when you're smiling at him so sweetly and when you're teasing him, you're being a bit mean he thinks but his dick definitely doesn't think the same.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

— watersports. He is open to try several things with you, but anything with other body fluids except cum and blood, that's a straight no.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

— he was made to eat cunt, HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE LIPS? He is so so good at it. He is a pussy drunk boy. If he could die while eating you out, he would die happy. He is so fucking filthy and messy while eating you out. It gives him pleasure, having your cum smeared all over his face. His tongue flickering and swirling along your folds, his mouth sucking on your clit. He makes sure to tongue fuck you as much as possible. He devours your pussy like it's his last meal before an execution. (just fucking makes out with it. he likes to kiss your pussy more than you. i said what i said.)

He can't control himself during a blowjob. His mind is too fuzzy with pleasure that he just has to make you take his cock deeper. He grips your hair, it's gentle at first, just to keep him grounded before he's like fuck, fuck, I can't control myself anymore and the grip gets tighter as he holds in place while he fucks your throat.

(he again apologies after cumming in your mouth, and for fucking your throat without a warning, he just can't control himself, he is sorry, not)

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

— depends on the day. Most of the time it's slow and languid, he's making sure that you feel every inch of his cock. He's making sure his cock memorizes every pleasure spot of your inner walls.

However there are times he is a needy fuck, so he is humping you, pounding into your wet cunt without a care. And on the days when you're nothing more than a toy, the pace varies A LOT. It can be either incredibly slow or fast. There's no in between, this is one of those times he edges himself, taking hours before either of you cum.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

— if you guys have time then he uses the time to its fullest but even when the time is less than he would still take his time, fuck whatever it doesn't matter. Morning classes? He'll burrow someone's note, fucking you is a much higher priority than anything. So there's rarely quickes happening in your relationship.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

— Yes, again, he's open to experimenting. Anything to make his partner happy.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

— he is a serial killer so he has a killer stamina (that's such a cringe joke, i apologize) so multiple rounds definitely, and sometimes he's still fucking you until the sun rises (there are breaks between each round, a shower break, drinking, something to eat, but it doesn't take long before he just wants you again, he just needs you so much and sex is such an intimate way of being close to you.)

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

— no, not often. He has his mouth, cock and fingers. He wouldn't show it but he would be offended if you ever bring toys in the bedroom. Use your vibrator when you're alone, the only thing you can cum on with when he's around is with his cock.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

— he does take a lot of time in foreplay only because he loves to make sure your pussy is slick for him. He doesn't take well to teasing or likes to tease during sex.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

— ethan is loud. I would fight people on this. Ethan whines, whimpers, groans and moans. Every single sound that is possible is made by this man. He loves to praise you, he gives you such compliments, (God, you're taking me so well, darling. I can't- shit, your pussy is so wet and warm ahh! Fuck, love), worships you with words. He just can't stop talking about how good it feels and how grateful he is that he has you. Even when he is rough he doesn't degrade you. He just can't :)

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

— would be into pegging. he's such a cute bottom too, he was so nervous the first time, only to beg if he could cum within minutes you started fucking his ass with your strap on.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

— average length, but thick. His cock stretches your walls out deliciously.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

— high. He waited for years to lose his virginity. He has a lot of pent up need and now that he has you? He doesn't hold back at all.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

— usually right after, unless the sex involved something hardcore or kinky then he would take a shower with you first to relax before going to sleep with you in his arms.

was i over self indulgent? perhaps but it's all canon i swear <33

[transastronautistic]

I can't handle how cute this is. i want a slime pet too

Link to the Tweets. And here's a link to the study. ID in alt text and below the readmore.

Image 1:

tweet by e. @MelytraMithra reading "oh my goddddd

researchers built a smartwatch heart beat monitor that uses a slime mold for its operation. the slime mold has to be fed and cared for, so the users in the trial… developed an emotional attachment to it [two sobbing emojis]"

The Tweet includes a screenshot from the paper, described in next image.

Image 2:

The tweet's screenshot, which reads:

Developing a connection.

All participants expressed various feelings of connection with our device. P1, P2, P4, and P5 all described it as a little friend and/or pet. P2 expressed, “it’s always good to be accompanied by some living creature, I really like different, animals or plants. (. . .) carrying this little friend also made me feel happy and peaceful”. P4 noted that she would be reminded by the slime mold’s presence by its smell, even stating that it felt endearing, “my cat’s kind of have a smell, dogs have a smell, the physarum, I recognize the smell and it smells kind of, organic, it’s kind of yeasty but not like decaying, it smells alive”. In recalling an experience where she had to take a long drive, P4 explained, “oh, I gotta bring my little pet mold friend, during the drive, I was also thinking about how I used to be really into Tamagotchis (. . .) with the physarum, (. . .) it has this smell to it which your Tamagotchis don’t have, it has a sense of physicality, (. . .) they’re definitely different”. P1 stated that their personal care routine ended up linked to the device’s care routine “I think every time I fed myself is when I would remember to at least check it, I think that was actually quite linked”. While she was sick, P5’s partner helped take care of her as well as helped to take care of her device. P5 recounts, “I was taking care of the slime and feeding it oats and stuff, my partner was also feeding me oatmeal because I was sick and so she was like you’re my little slime and I was like yeah, I am (. . .) then she started calling me her slime because I mean me and the slime, like, we were eating the same stuff, (. . .) we were both being fed and watered”. P2 & P4 also stated that the visual appearance of their device affected their mood. P2 explained that growth made them feel refreshed. P4 associated the bright yellow of the physarum with happy feelings, noting this affective quality several times in her diary entries and in her interview.

Image 3: A reply tweet from the original tweeter reading "well nourished. in my lane. lively. growing." There's a photoset from the study described as "a slime mold oscillating between living and dormant stages." There are four images of the slime mold, which is a yellow color. The first shows it "dried / dormant / not growing." Second shows it "water added / resuscitated / growing." Third shows the slime "well nourished / lively / growing." The fourth shows it once again "dried / dormant / not growing."