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#treat your audience as smart as they are
multicolour-ink · 1 year
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imagine if during that wholesome baby Mario and Luigi scene it was baby Wario who was bullying Luigi. That just would have been perfect and would have been a nice setup if he ever does come into the movies
Yeah that was a missed opportunity for sure!
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toonbly · 4 months
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im gonna rip apart the mystery genre with my teeth (said so so lovingly)
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hamartia-grander · 8 months
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Forget about gritting your teeth through someone's media analysis that is egregiously incorrect. Some character/story analyses I see on here are literally just verbatim re-tellings of what happened in the story - the literal things you are supposed to understand, and the connections you're supposed to make to get what is happening - and they're phrased as crazy theories or analyses. And I just want to scream, because no, you're not weird or 'reaching' for coming to that conclusion, that is quite literally the exact thing the story was trying to tell you. You are stating blatant fact as some incredible discovery. Like that person who thought Lucy Gray Baird saying she was 'going to find Katniss' was "an accident" or maybe they were crazy. But I guess everyone's gotta start somewhere, even if you think saying 'did anyone else ever realise that Darth Vader's theme plays when Anakin does something evil???' is some mind-blowing observation. Like, shit, in a world where media literacy is so sorely lacking, quite literally witnessing a story and noticing details of it is considered analysis. Whatever.
#fandom#banging my head on the wall STOP FUCKING WATCHING NOTHING BUT MARVEL MOVIES THEY LITERALLY ROT YOUR BRAIN#marvel movies and marvel adjacent movies etc etc#THEY ARE COMMERCIALISED THEY ARE CORPORATELY FORMULATED SO THAT MASS AUDIENCES CAN UNDERSTAND WHAT'S HAPPENING#EVEN IF THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CHARACTERS ARE OR WHAT HAPPENED IN ANOTHER MOVIE#They WANT it to be so so obvious on PURPOSE so that they can get middle aged people who don't have kids to be entertained#so that they can get groups of teens with nothing better to do than watch some new marvel movie that's always in fucking theatres-#-to go in having absolutely no idea who these characters or their storylines are and still understand what's happening#wonder why no matter how good the new marvel movies are there's always just a certain substance that feels like it's missing?#What's missing is the part where they don't treat the audience like idiots who need everything spelled out for them#where the plot and symbolism went hand in hand to tell the story#when you didn't need repeated flashback shots of scenes we've already seen just to remind an audience with an absolute SHITE attention span#what happened literally twenty minutes ago in the same movie#like no. you're not insanely smart nor crazy for recognising that leitmotif. I beg you to look it up that is quite literally its purpose.#you are an audience member observing and understanding the story.#Like I LOVEEEEE delving into the symbolism and narrative rhetorical devices in stories it is my favourite thing#I always loved Socratic Seminars in school because we'd get to just discuss our analyses on the texts we'd read#there's too many people acting like they're INSANE like they are going to be SHOT ON SIGHT if they DARE notice blatant details#that are supposed to be noticed#and don't get me wrong I have no hate for these people.#I truly just hate the fact that this is enabled by the commercialising and commodification of ART.#“content” and all that bullshit#IT'S CALLED ART#IT'S CALLED A GOOD STORY#'bro has anyone ever noticed that gandalf is called gandalf the gray in the hobbit because it was set before lotr?'#YES. EVERYONE. STOP IT
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foone · 7 months
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Your posts are in an AI model
and then Tumblr decided to sell them to AI models.
Now, don't get me wrong, tumblr selling out the users to AI companies is bad, yes, they shouldn't do that. It sucks.
but don't lets get this confused: your posts were already in there. Tumblr selling them is about tumblr making some money and about the AI models having more exhaustive post collections. It's not about your posts being in an AI model, vs not being in one. That battle has already been lost.
Can you find your post on google? Then it's almost certainly in an AI model already. Think about it: These AI sites showed up before all the sites were making deals to sell their users' content, right? How do you think they built them in the first place?
They scraped the posts. Just like google and bing and such do when they build their search indexes.
It's a fundamental part of how the open web works: you want your posts on tumblr to be visible to users, right? You want them to be readable?* Like, look how much stuff broke when twitter changed their whole read-while-not-logged-in policy, ruining a bunch of thread links/NSFW links. And if it's visible, it's scrapable. That's what the AI models were built on.
I've done website scraping before (not for AI models, of course. I was doing search engines and website archival), this is just how it works. You hire a few relatively smart CS graduates and tell them "build me a scraper that'll give us a bunch of tumblr posts" and they go off for a month or two and come back with a database of a few billion posts, and you stuff that into your AI model. That's how they got all the deviantart and flickr and twitter and pinterest and so on posts. They didn't pay for them: they just took them.
They only ever pay for this shit because either:
they fucked up in such a way that the site might be able to sue them for taking rather than paying
They can buy them cheaper than they can finish taking them. Maybe they'd need to pay the CS grads for an extra month? well, that might be more expensive than just throwing the site a couple hundred thousand bucks.
ANYWAY: my point is, don't treat this "oh no tumblr is selling our posts to AI" like it's a big thing that might happen and it would be bad to happen. Yes, it's bad, tumblr shouldn't do this, this'll let AI models get continual updates of content for far easier than just scraping them would be, tumblr betrayed user trust, and so on...
but realistically, this is not a black and white matter of "if only tumblr didn't do this, then we'd be safe from AI models!"
Nope. We already lost that battle. I'm sorry, and it does suck, but that's just how it is. The avalanche has already started, it's too late for the pebbles to vote. * I'm assuming here that you don't run a private blog that's set to only followers or something. You'd be safer then, of course, but you're not really my target audience for this rant
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northerngoshawk · 1 year
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in case y'all think that, like, authors can't be purposeful about what they write and what elements they put in their stories
i literally have 80 pages of notes (and still counting) on the worldbuilding for my demon slayer au fic series, and i'm setting stuff up in the very first fic that will play a role in succeeding fics.
so yeah. believe it or not, we can think about our stories, and we can put in foreshadowing, and the messages and details we put in there are put in there on purpose
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mrskokushibo · 29 days
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Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, Smut, Sex, 18+.
Plot: Your friends take you out for a girls' night to watch an MMA fight, where one of the fighters, Ryomen Sukuna, is a notorious hottie. Will this be the night you finally meet the man who will truly rock the foundations of your world?
Cover artwork by the amazing @innaillus 🙏❤️
Masterlist
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The sound in the arena was getting louder as more people were streaming in, filling up the stands. You were looking around curious, taking in all the impressions. It was your very first time attending a fight of any kind, let alone an MMA one. You knew what it was all about as you saw it on TV, but being at the venue in person was an entirely different experience. The booming base of peppy rock music was blending with the chatter of people and an occasional announcement from the conferencier.
Your seats were in the VIP section just next to the ring. Your bestie, Bec, organised this for you all as a treat, a girls’ night out, away from your crappy love lives and mundane jobs. She slept around a lot and seemed to have connections anywhere and everywhere. You often joked, that somehow, she would be the one to land some rich dude eventually. You wished you were this open, but you always seemed to attract assholes, so you almost gave up on dating actively.
You were also the quieter one in your friend group and, just like now, you sat on the edge of the action, taking in all the impression in silence. You enjoyed being around people as long, as they let you be you. And that is why you were so close to your friends. They accepted you exactly the way you were.
Your drinks arrived and you were now sitting and sipping on a beer and snacking on some hot chips. You were facing the ring and were studying it closely. You have seen boxing rings before, but this one was different. It had a cage around it. This made you think a little as to how violent was the fighting if the fighters needed to be caged in like this.
‘Excited?’
You were interrupted by Bec, who was now leaning over the others to be able to make herself heard over the surrounding commotion.
You nodded with your mouth full of chips and beer.
‘You know…’ She leaned in a little closer to you.
‘One of the fighters is supposedly an official hottie. I saw pictures of him and damn, girl. I would fuck him even if I was on my deathbed.’
Well, you could easily imagine Bec doing something like that and you chuckled. A dirty mind in such a kind and smart person. She was the most accomplished of your friend group. A corporate lawyer, spending a lot of time working pro bono helping underprivileged clients. She, on the other hand, always called you a superhero. That is what she thought nurses were. And you did work in a huge, busy, public hospital, trying to make the stay more bearable for your patients. Who, by the way, always got very attached to you, probably due to your kind and caring nature?
‘We will see if I think the same as you. He might not be my type.’
You grinned and winked at Bec, who immediately shook her head while swallowing her drink.
‘Oh, but no, my dear. Trust me on this one. Since you have a pussy, you will get attracted to him. Instant squirt. I’m telling ya.’
She grinned in her typical mischievous manner while you were shaking your head at her over-sexualized tirade.
She was just about to say something more, but the lights went out for a moment and the conferencier began to welcome the audience, announcing the imminent start of the fight.
‘First out. The king of knockouts, the one and only, Ryomen Sukuna.’
As the name was announced the crowd went wild, lights turned blood red and music went from upbeat rock to very loud heavy metal. In the corner of your eye, you could make out the contour of Bec making the ‘thumbs up’ gesture in your direction.
When he entered the ring, you automatically realised what Bec was talking about. This man was … perfect. Everything about him screamed ‘sex’. A strong, perfectly toned body, spiked pink-dyed hair with a natural black undercut. His eyes were those of a large predator, slightly narrow and with a confident and playful look. His face was handsome and masculine and had a friendly look to it. And then there were the tattoos. Black, symmetrical markings on his face and chest and black bands on his wrists, biceps, thighs, and ankles. He reminded you of a powerful and wild tiger. You were in a state of awe and yes, Bec was right, you were getting a little aroused.
He was strutting around the ring, exuding pure confidence, and blowing sweet kisses, waving, and winking to the audience. All smiles and joy, this was someone obviously not to mess with in a ring.
The conferencier announced the entry of the second fighter, but you barely paid attention to him, being so focused on Sukuna. Very soon, the lights in the arena were switched to full power again and the match began with the ring of a bell.
It was like watching a brutal dance, the fighters moving swiftly and with amazing agility. You could only imagine the force behind the blows they were dealing each other as you were watching their powerful muscles flex and bodies break out in a sweat, which made their skin glisten in the strong arena lights.
The game paused for a moment after Sukuna dealt a scary-sounding blow to his opponent. You could almost hear the creaking of bones and tendons as the man’s back hit the cage right in front of you. The man was not knocked out, but his team was tending to his bloodied face, cleaning him up for continued fighting.
And that is when it happened. Sukuna was leaning leisurely in his corner of the ring, rolling his head in a stretch, and looking around at the audience as if he was sitting in a bar doing some people-watching instead of being in the middle of a fight. His eyes were moving around the perimeter and when they reached you, his head stopped and he smiled and winked in your direction. You froze but also felt a few butterflies rise to flight inside your belly, causing the waterworks between your legs to go into a state of high flow. Bec saw what happened and was now doing a double ‘thumbs up’ in your direction.
Soon, the ring rang again and the fight continued. But not for long, as Sukuna’s now completely exhausted opponent was slammed into the cage once again, but this time, he remained laying down on the floor of the ring. The audience was in absolute uproar, chanting ‘Ry-o-men, Ry-o-men’ and ‘Hail Thy King’ almost in unison. The referee began the count over the fallen fighter, but he did not get up. A clean knockout. The ref walked up to Sukuna, grabbed his hand, and raising it in a sign of victory, screaming out into the microphone: ‘Ryomen Sukuna wins by knockout.’ The crowd went even louder and the noise was now almost deafening. But as the fighters left the ring, the crowd settled down and it was all finished just as quickly as it began.
You felt a little tricked by the speed of it all. It would have been great to watch the sexy Ryomen for a while longer. But, oh well, all good things come to an end.
The crowd began its exodus out of the arena and soon enough, the city air hit you in the face with its’ smog and smells. Your group headed off to the nearby nightclub, Bec holding you under your arm, discussing the match and the very sexy Mr Sukuna.
The line to the club moved quickly and a few minutes later you and your friends were occupying a booth in the immediate vicinity of the dance floor. The music was already too loud to have a decent conversation, but you all were so used to losing your voices after a night out that the conversation flowed easily despite the high decibels emitted from the speakers.
The evening went on as usual, with drinks, and complaining about existing, ex-, and potential boyfriends. You danced, drank some more and very soon Bec was being dragged away to the dance floor by some hunk she chatted up at the bar.
It was your turn to get more drinks and honestly, you were promising yourself that this was the last round and then it was straight home for you. But as you were standing in front of the bar, waiting your turn, something caught your attention and changed the course of your evening.
"Well, well, well. Whom do we have here?" The sexy, husky, and playful masculine voice, whose owner you couldn't yet see, momentarily drowned out all other noises, including the deep pumping base of the club.
When you turned around to see who the voice belonged to, you must have really looked startled as the tall guy right in front of you now, smiled and ran his hand through his hair with an apologetic look on his face.
‘Sorry, I did not mean to scare you… Are you alright?’ He touched your shoulder lightly and leaned down to you. ‘I will leave you be if I annoy you.’
Quickly, you regained your composure. The owner of the voice was no one else but the sexy fighter from a couple of hours ago, Ryomen Sukuna. You felt like slapping your own cheek partly to check that you are not dreaming and partly for your stupid and awkward reaction.
‘Yes, yes, of course, I am all right. And…you are anything but annoying.’ You smiled and stretched out your hand to him to make up for the previous lack of social skills.
‘I am (y/n), and you are Ryomen, right?’
‘Yes, that is right. You have a good memory.’ * So…he did notice you at the match…How interesting…*
‘I was just about to grab a drink. Anything you would like?’ You asked him unassumingly. He smiled and shook his head.
‘Shit, I’m the one who should be buying YOU a drink. But ok, go ahead. Whiskey on the rocks for me.’
He followed you to the bar and you both sat down as they were vacant seats right in front of you and might just as well not stand while waiting.
‘With the risk of sounding like a creep. Are you here alone?’
He looked almost a bit embarrassed at having posed such a question, but you quickly eased his mood by telling him all about your girls’ night out. When you pointed and waved to your friends, Bec was not there, but when you scanned the place, you could see her making out with some tall, dark-haired dude at the far end of the dancefloor. Right. God old Bec…
The drinks were put in front of you and you chose to stay where you were. He leaned on his elbow, swirling his drink, his narrowed eyes studying you in silence for a moment. His lips twitched in a small, fluttering smile. His eyes were moving across your figure and you began to feel heat spread in your underbelly.
‘So…is this like the place to relax after your fights?’ You chose to break the silence. ‘And by the way…are you here alone? Asking with the risk of sounding like a creep.’ You chuckled a little.
‘As a matter of fact, I am. Here alone. Well, now at least. My team usually goes out here to celebrate, but everyone needed to get home early. I was also about to leave, but then I spotted you.’
He took a sip and kept on swirling his drink while making small talk about the venue and his training routines. You told him about your work and hobbies. But when you both finished your drinks, he suddenly stood up and stretched out his hand.
‘Come, let’s dance, hm?’
You followed him sheepishly, the music slow enough for a very close-up dance, so obviously in no time at all, you were gently swayed in his embrace. He was wearing tight, black jeans and an equally tight white t-shirt, the expensive type. No jewelry, no watch, the only thing adorning him being the stylish tats and of course his meticulously styled hair. He was very tall, much taller than you and you could rest your head on his chest with ease. You could feel the muscles, he was so warm too, like a furnace. He smelled of bergamot, sandalwood, and myrrh. With your eyes closed you found yourself hugging him tighter and your hips instinctively grinding against his.
You continued like this into the next song, and then to the next, slowly losing track of time, his hands wandering down to your waist and his nose nudging your forehead, to get your mouth’s attention, which very soon led to your lips connecting into a slow kiss. The surge of lust rushing through you pushed you even deeper into his embrace, you wanted to drown in him. And you also wanted him to ask you to go to his place, or your place, or just drag you to a back alley and fuck you senseless. But instead, he pulled away from the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes.
‘It is getting late… You know, as much as I would like to offer you more tonight, I am a bit old-fashioned, so this is as far as we go. But…why don’t you join me for dinner tomorrow?’
You could not say you weren’t disappointed, but whether intentional or not, his move made him essentially irresistible in an instant. Before he walked you over to your friend group, you exchanged numbers and he promised to be in touch in the morning.
Your friends kept quiet when you were saying your goodbyes, but as soon as he left, they all high-fived you. Their booze-fuelled questioning and cheering of your dating success kept on going all the way until the taxi stopped outside of your apartment building and you were finally free to take in what happened earlier tonight. You could barely sleep that night, luckily for you the next day was your day off, so you weren’t all too worried about the perspective of looking like a zombie for your date. If there was to be a date, that is. But as far as sleep went, you would catch up with a nap or two during the day anyway.
You dozed off at around 4 am only to be woken up again by the message ping of your phone at exactly 10 am. With shaking hands, you picked up the heavy rectangular device, and to your surprise and excitement it was from him. There was no hesitation with opening the message, your fingers quickly pressing on the bold unread text. And there it was:
‘Dinner at 6 pm? Just to give you heads up, we are going to (name of one of the best restaurants in town) I will pick you up. Can you give me your address, please?. xoxo / Ryomen’
*Shit, shit, shit.* You had nothing that elegant to wear. The urge to go shopping suddenly became overwhelming and you decided to skip breakfast and instead grab a takeaway coffee on the way, and eat something in town instead, after you shopped. You texted him your address and ventured out.
You hated shopping in panic and of course, just because you were looking, you didn’t find anything to buy. *Nice. So now what?*
You got home disappointed and began rummaging through your closet. Eventually, you settled for your favourite little black dress, heels, and a classic simple Swarovsky-crystal choker. A classic look, even though to you, it was how you saw yourself on nearly every date for the last year. It was too late to do anything about it now. You decided to take a nap and when you woke up, after a quick snack and another coffee, you got ready in your usual not-too-overdone manner. *Alright, this will have to do.*
Before you managed to put your shoes on, your phone pinged again.
‘I’m outside.’
You looked out your window and you could not help but stare at the gorgeous sportscar parked just outside of your gate. Almost running through the hall, you put your heels on and rushed down to meet him. At a closer look, the car was a brilliant black Acura NSX. A rather rare car, but what else would you expect of someone like Sukuna.
As you walked up to the vehicle, the door opened and there he was, nimbly jumping out of the car, walking up to you and embracing you into a kiss.
‘You look amazing.’ He whispered in your ear.
But in your eyes, it was him that looked…amazing. He was wearing a black suit styled casually with an expensive black t-shirt and stylish all-black-leather Vans slip-ons. His hair was immaculately spiked and today he was wearing a whole bunch of piercings in his ears.
When you were done with your greetings, he opened the passenger door for you and as you got seated, he closed the door behind you and then jumped into his seat. He smiled at you before starting the engine. The roar was guttural and the vibrations were hitting your core just as much as the presence of the very charming man next to you. You did not notice your surroundings as all the way to the restaurant you were too focused on his presence and your conversation.
At last, the car slowed down and you arrived at the restaurant located in the middle of the business district. He parked the car just outside of the entrance and gave the keys to the concierge. As he led you in, you were almost taken aback by the interior of the luxurious eatery. It was a Japanese/Western fusion restaurant, with none less than two Michelin stars on its resume. The walls were graphite grey, illuminated by dim lanterns cleverly placed, creating a pattern of shadows cast by the intricate pottery standing on tall, oriental side tables. The kitchen was completely open and located in the middle of the dining room, covered by the branches of a large, heavily pruned Sakura tree.
The tables were placed around the kitchen, allowing the guests a full view of the spectacle the chefs were putting on.
A waiter in traditional Japanese attire led you both to your table and very soon you were enjoying a meal like no other you have ever experienced. Dish after dish, one more exotic than the other was brought out to you, accompanied by vintage wines and sake.
The whole time, the two of you were talking almost non-stop, you were amazed at how well-versed and educated he was. Not what you expected out of someone who essentially beats people up for a living. Beneath the friendly and civilised conversation, the sexual tension was steadily building up for nearly every bite you took.
When the main meal was finished and you wiped your mouth with the thick, linen napkin and cleaned off your hands with a warm, wet towel provided by the waiter, he took your hand and held it gently, massaging the inside of your palm with his thumb. His eyes were narrowed and a delicate smile lit up his sharp features. A heavy blush was spreading underneath your make-up. Your mouth was getting dry and you felt warmth spread inside you.
‘Do you have room for dessert? They make this amazing matcha mochi here… You should try it.’
He was speaking slowly, and it was almost as if he was beginning the seduction ritual, because his movements followed the slower speech and the pink of his eyes was growing darker by the minute, with what you only could read as pure, unadulterated lust.
You bit your bottom lip and shuffled in your seat. You were getting wet. But going home was not an option yet. It is now that the game was just beginning. The foreplay before foreplay. Teasing and small touches drove you to the brink of what your body could endure without literally throwing yourself at him.
‘Yes, I would like to try it. And maybe some coffee to go with it?’
You cocked your head and smiled knowing very well you needed a lot of coffee for what was coming.
The sweets and coffee arrived soon after you placed the order.
You speared some of the mochi with your fork and deliberately slowly put it in your mouth, sliding the fork out with a painfully delayed motion, that made your lips pout out. You licked them discretely in a seductive manner and gave him a small smile while looking him deep in the eye.
He bit his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed again.
‘I see that you are enjoying your dessert.’
He took a sip of his coffee and smiled at you.
‘It is good to stock up on extra energy sometimes.’
You both smiled at each other and kept eating in silence while exchanging hungry looks.
As soon as you finished dessert, he called in the waiter, paid and you both left almost in a hurry. The air outside was cold already and you huddled with him while waiting for the concierge to bring out the car.
You couldn’t get into it fast enough, and once you were buckled up, the engine roared again, pushing your arousal into an even higher gear.
He placed his hand on your thigh and began rubbing the soft flesh just above where your stocking ended and garter straps took over. He did not move the hand an inch, just stayed like this, teasing you and glancing your way with that charming smile that by now had you go instantly wet.
A moment later and the car was driving into an underground garage. He finally let go of your thigh, jumped out of the car, and walked over to your side to open the door for you. As you were getting out, he caught you in his embrace, closed the car door, and began kissing you. He pushed you against the car and had his hand stroke your cheeks and neck, for now still clothed breasts and hips.
You had your hands on his neck, running them through the coarse black hair of the undercut, making him moan quietly.
‘I guess I am not very old-fashioned tonight.’
He spoke in between kisses, his husky voice going straight into your core.
‘Let’s go upstairs, hm? Or would you like me to be old-fashioned and take you home?’
He was teasing you, knowing that going home was the last thing on your mind at this point.
You only shook your head in reply and smiled biting your lower lip. Without a word, he took you by the hand and you began walking toward the elevator, that was already on the garage level. He pressed the highest number on the panel and soon you were pressed against something again, this time the elevator wall while being kissed by your excruciatingly hot lover-to-be.
Out of the elevator, into the apartment, the two of you simply kept kissing, both his and your hands exploring the other in an increasingly adventurous manner. He was starting to breathe a bit heavier and his tongue was swirling frenetically in your mouth, having a little wrestle with yours.
You didn’t have much of a chance to have a look at his place, you were too preoccupied with him to notice your surroundings. He was gently pushing you toward a large black sofa in the middle of the open-plan space. As he reached it, he removed his suit jacket tossing it to the side, then spun you around slowly, sitting down and taking you with him onto his lap. You were now straddling him and pressing your chest to his.
‘Mmm, I didn’t think we would end up like this so quickly.’
‘Are you telling me you have a hard time getting girls to come home with you?’ Your voice hitching through the heavy breathing and kissing.
‘Maybe… maybe not. But you didn’t seem like the easy type.’
‘Because I am not, but you made it easy for me to not be as restrained as I normally am.’ You nibbled at his lip.
‘Is that so? I am flattered…’
He kissed your neck and began to move his hands onto your ass, squeezing the softness with his solid wrestler's hands, sliding them up to your waist, and then repeating the lewd massage while continuing the kiss. You were literally ready to have him take you on the sofa, but he obviously enjoyed the foreplay quite a bit. You could feel his hardness and he must have been surely very aware of how wet you were with only a thin layer of black lace separating your seeping pussy from him. Grinding yourself on him in encouragement was your next instinctive move toward what you really wanted to happen, but he just kept roaming his hands all over you as if he could not get enough of the anticipation.
You shifted your focus to his face to distract yourself, tracing the outlines of his tattoos, forehead, down to his cheeks and then chin, and then all the way up the other side of his face. His eyes were closed in pleasure and he reminded you of a wild cat all over again, just as he did the day before in the ring.
‘This feels nice. You have such a soft touch. Don’t stop…please.’
So, you kept tracing and now also kissing the black lines on his face, making him purr and moan. But you wanted more, to see the marks on his torso, arms, and thighs…maybe there were more in other, intimate places? The thrill of being so close to someone that only yesterday was a distant figure in the spotlight of fame was consuming you and fuelling your arousal.
You pulled off his t-shirt, exposing the long-awaited sight to your starved eyes. The marks started at the base of his neck, spanning from down his back and onto his chest, and down again toward his abs. These tattoos were wider and less intricate than the ones on his face, making him look quite tough, if you were to be asked. You kissed his toned chest and run your fingers across his biceps and down his long, strong arms. Your hands were moving as if with a mind of their own, trying to touch all of his upper body all at once. The need to have him much closer to you than this was growing stronger with every touch.
When you were about to lose your patience, he put his hands at the hem of your dress and began pulling it up. You lifted yourself up on your knees to help him get it off and once the dress was off, his hands latched on to your breasts, massaging until you were nearly out of breath from pleasure and moaning. You kept grinding against him harder.
‘So eager…’ He kissed your breasts while removing your bra and once freed, your breasts were now supported by his cupped hands with the right nipple rolled between his lips. You moaned loudly and made him intensify the action to see how much more noise he could get out of you.
When you began tugging at his belt, he stopped.
‘I think we will be more comfortable in the bedroom.’
You got off him quickly and he followed suit, taking your hand and leading you out of the lounge area and into a smaller room next to the kitchen part of the open-plan living space. The bedroom was dimly lit by warm wall lights and all you could make out was a double bed in the middle of the room and a large TV hanging on the wall opposite the bed. There were, what looked like a couple of Bonzai trees here and there, but that was about all you had time to spot before your attention was stolen once again by Ryomen.
He was now kissing you and unbuckling his belt, you looked down while he was unzipping his pants and sliding them off, uncovering a pair of tight, black boxershorts, stretched snug on top of the hardness of his erection. You swallowed and looked up at his face again and putting both thumbs under the hem of his underwear, you were taking them off quickly.
His cock popped out and it was perfect. Not too big and not too small, the kind of girth and length, that your experience already told you would make you a very satisfied woman.
‘You like what you see?’ Your hungry look was so apparent to him now.
‘Mmm, in fact, I do…’ You dragged your fingers gently on the top of his shaft, kicked off your heels, and climbed onto the bed, supported on your elbows, slowly spreading your legs for him. All you were wearing now were your stockings, garter belt, and a minuscule lace g-string.
He jumped onto the bed with the agility of a leopard and crawled the rest of the short distance dividing you both.
‘Glad to have the King of Knockouts all to yourself?’ He chuckled and smiled in a cocky manner.
‘Yes, very glad.’ You placed your arms around his neck as he was now on top of you, making nearly full body contact.
‘You know, I didn’t expect such a good girl to get this naughty this quickly.’
‘Oh, but even angels need to fall sometimes.’ Your voice was muffled by the kisses he was landing on you while his hands were busy exploring your body.
He pulled away and looked down at the remainder of your garment.
‘You don’t need these, do you now?’ He followed his rhetorical question by rolling the whole lot of you and tossing it aside.
‘Where were we…’ He was now back on top of you, grinding into your folds with his delicious dick.
‘Ah, I think you seem to want me inside you, right? You are very wet…’ His hand was rubbing you roughly between your legs.
‘Yes...please.’
He chuckled and moved his hand from your pussy to his dick, positioning himself at your entrance. He moved his arm back to your side and once in the position to move, he entered your aching and clenching core without any more hesitation.
You were now in full moaning mode, not caring anymore about trying to sound half switched on, the words coming out of your mouth were blabber as you could feel his dick pry its way into you. Your bodies were slowly connecting and synchronising to the rhythm of sex. The feel of his naked body on yours, the softness of close skin-on-skin contact, so sensual, so intimate, so…lascivious. For every thrust of his hips, you were carried away further and further from reality, and yet this was one of the most real, primeval activities a human could engage in. The duality of sex always puzzled you, made for procreation, but executed to fulfill lustful desires.
His love-making was slow in its action, but intense in feel. The heat of his breath when he kissed you was as if he was branding you as his, the gentle, but firm touch of his knotty fingers was sending nerve impulses that traveled not only to your deepest and most aroused core but were slowly but surely opening the doors to your soul.
Every inch of your skin, every muscle and nerve was seeking him, trying to get closer than the physicality of flesh would allow, his strained breath was now your breath. You practiced your ritual in silence, only accompanied by the wet squelching of your sexes joined in their communion and the slapping of flesh. Lewd and holy at the same time. You were near the limit of what you could take before releasing all the pent-up tension your core gathered up over the past two days. As your climax washed over you, the scream that came out of your mouth was almost that of someone else, a primal woman, unleashed and free, reveling in the glory of the pleasure one human could gift to another.
You were still shaking from your orgasm, almost half-conscious from the discharge of impulses. The squelching was louder, as your climax opened your floodgates, drenching you both. Wet and sloppy, he kept on thrusting, but much harder and faster now, chasing his own high, his toned, magnificent body beginning to flex its muscles.
‘Can I come inside you?’
‘Yes, of course, I took precaution…’
And a few moments later, his abdomen was contracting pushing his hips further into you in a few deep thrusts, granting him a full release, painting your insides with his warm seed.
Breathing heavily, he rolled over onto his back, taking you with him in a tight hug. Your sexes stayed connected, your thinner cum blended with his thick, creamy semen, running out onto both your thighs and the sheets beneath you. He was rubbing your back gently, kissing the top of your head as you were this much shorter than him. Your head was snuggled comfortably into his wide, strong chest, you could feel the flexing of his muscles as his arms moved across your back and his heartbeat was lulling you almost into a slumber.
‘Please stay the night. I did not get enough of you yet.’
You lifted your head up to look at him with your now slightly hazy eyes.
‘So, you are not kicking me out? I thought you had a lineup of girls waiting for you?’
He smiled and shook his head.
‘Such prejudice… Being famous doesn’t make me a pig, you know. Besides, most chicks are only after my stage persona, not me.’
He kissed your head again, his eyes closed now and a peaceful smile gracing his face.
‘You know…I must thank your friends for taking you out to see my fight. Without them dragging you along, I would have never met you.’
Most likely, he did not realize, how much his words meant to you right now. Was he the one you were waiting for so long? You were willing to take that chance and run with it.
You pulled yourself up to his face and began kissing him again, your tongue hungrily making its way straight through his thin lips into the warmth of his mouth. His dick slid out of you, letting the rest of the aftermath of your fucking run out freely onto his legs.
‘Let’s take a shower. We made a bit of a mess.’
He led you into the spacious bathroom. It was probably the most lavish bathroom you have ever seen, with walls, and floor tiled with black slate, elegant Japanese-style bath standing at the far end, together with all the traditional equipment needed for a bath ritual. The shower was to the right of the tub, large enough for two people to easily move around inside the glass and stone walls.
Well in the shower, you closed your eyes and tilted your head upwards letting the warm waterfall wash your makeup off you, you rubbed it all off quickly before he could see your smudged face and then let the water rinse the residue of the sex off your lower body. He came into the shower and stood pressed to your back, letting his hands wander all over your chest and belly. Your arousal was already at its peak again and you moved your left hand back to grab his now completely hard cock, while his right hand was playing with your nipple and the left began rubbing your clit.
He pressed you toward the nearest wall, water flowing down on you in unison with the lewd massage he was giving you. You let go of his cock to support yourself with both arms on the wall. He spread your soft ass cheeks to reach your pussy again and bent his knees to compensate for the difference in height, shoving himself into you once more. This time the sex was faster and sloppier. You were barely holding on to the wall while his thrusts were getting stronger, his hands holding your belly and breasts for stability and closeness.
He moved one hand to draw circles around your completely swollen clit. You were drowning in your lust once again. The heat between your legs increased as your nerves were sending more and more pleasure impulses to your brain. You no longer knew if it was water or your slick that was running down your legs, you were this aroused. His sexy lips were kissing and nibbling at your neck and all that was left for you to do was to moan, and moan, and moan.
As his fingers moved faster, rubbing directly on your little pleasure trigger, you gave out one loud moan and then came, shaking in overstimulation as he kept rubbing your nub for a while after your climax passed. He moved his hands onto your hips, stabilising you properly, and increased his pace into a relentless race toward an orgasm. The wet thwacking of his hips into the softness of your ass kept you just barely awake. Luckily, his arousal was just as strong as yours and he came with a quiet growl, almost pushing you flat into the wall.
Panting and almost slouching the two of you got out of the shower drying each other in a drawn-out ritual. You were enjoying touching every part of his body through the cotton of the fresh warm towel, just as much as reveling in the sensation of his hands doing the same to you. Once dry he lifted you off the ground and carried bridal style to the bed, covering you up with a soft, thick but light duvet of pure goose down. He ran over to the kitchen and came back with water for you both and some snacks. While you were both enjoying the well-earned refreshments, you started to feel like sleep was now not far away. Once you were done, he put the tray on the side table and crawled in under the duvet, snuggling up closely to you.
‘I am so glad you chose to stay here with me. In the morning, I will be able to impress you with the best goddamn breakfast you ever had.’
You smiled and nodded in response while kissing him softly, and a moment later, you were both falling asleep, drifting off to, what hopefully, was a future together.
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Dividers by @cafekitsune
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moonstruckme · 10 months
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love the doctor!remus content!!!
would love to read about him in a similar setting as the last request u did, where reader doesn’t tell him she‘s had to go to urgent care (maybe she lost her phone) and he‘s in his big scary attending mood but the moment he steps into the room and realizes reader is the patient he goes all concerned and cooing and all the interns are confused as to what happened to calm collected and kinda cool doctor lupin :((((
Thanks love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You can hear him talking as he moves down the line of small curtained-off rooms, your heart contracting at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice but too shy to interrupt him while he’s working. Remus’ tone is clipped and all business, and you can tell by how quickly his voice draws closer that he’s striding toward you in that brisk way he does when he’s busy. 
“This one’s already been treated,” he’s saying to someone, “so we’re just checking in before discharge. Let me ask some of the necessary questions first, and then we’ll ask the patient’s permission for you to ask some as well.” 
He looks nearly imposing as he whips open the curtain, clipboard in hand and a gaggle of what you guess must be residents on his heels. That all drains away, along with the blood in his face, when he sees you. “Dove?”
“Dove?” you hear one of the residents echo bemusedly. 
“Hi,” you say sheepishly. 
Remus steps toward where you sit on the bed, concern etched into the twin lines between his brows. “Honey, what happened? You” —he looks down at his clipboard, flustered— “you got stitches in your hand? What’d you need stitches in your hand for?” 
You glance between the many sets of eyes in the room, self-conscious in the face of so much attention. “I cut myself,” you answer quietly. 
Remus lowers the clipboard, looking devastated for you. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, but the reprimand in his tone is barely detectable behind all the fondness coating it. He holds out a hand. “Let me see.” 
You give him your hand obediently, doing your best to follow his example and ignore the murmurings from your small audience. He’s painstakingly careful as he removes the bandages to reveal your cut. It looks far better than it had when it had been bleeding all over your car on the drive over, but Remus still coos like it's the most grievous injury he’s seen in his career. 
“Seven stitches?” His lips turn down into a pout. “What’d you do to yourself, dovey?” 
You see one resident’s eyebrows fly up at the sappy pet name, exchanging a look with the one next to him. 
“I was trying to cut up the squash I bought last week,” you explain, unsure if you’re supposed to be talking to the room but directing your words only to your boyfriend, “and my knife slipped. I was going to call you when it wouldn't stop bleeding, but my phone died. I didn’t have time to charge it before I came.” 
Remus makes a gruff, reluctant sound of approval. “Well, I’m glad you came but I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you. Did it hurt very badly?” 
“Not really,” you lie quietly, but one of the residents behind you goes, “Doctor Lupin, is that one of the necessary questions we’re meant to be asking?” 
You flush, and Remus shifts modes in an instant, his look severe as he turns on the smart aleck. “No,” he says drily. “But this is still the portion where you’re meant to be quiet.” 
You sort of feel for the resident as they nod abashedly. Remus countenance warms again as he turns back towards you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, still cradling your injured hand in his.
“It wasn’t too bad.”
“Baby.” Remus’ brows scrunch together, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear. “I can tell you’ve been crying, darling.” 
“Remus,” you chide embarrassedly, looking again to the residents gathered behind him. 
“Ah.” He drops a hand to your knee for an apologetic squeeze, turning to face your observers with more of an authoritative air. “Go find somewhere else to be,” he tells them. 
They scatter like mice, and Remus huffs when the last one out doesn’t shut the curtain, stepping away from you to draw it closed himself. 
“Sorry, I sort of forget they’re there sometimes,” he explains, but he’s already doubling down on the sweetness now that they’re gone, bringing your injured palm to his lips for a very, very gentle kiss. “Did you cry while they stitched you up, honey?” 
You might cry again now if he keeps looking at you like that. “A little,” you admit. “I was being a tad dramatic.” 
“I doubt that,” he says, thumb stroking lovingly over the line of stitches before picking up the bandage and beginning to rewrap it. “Hand wounds are no light thing. It probably bled a lot, hm?”
“There may be some cleanup waiting for me in both the kitchen and my car,” you joke. Remus gives you a small smile for your efforts. 
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it when I get home.” He finishes bandaging your hand and leans in to kiss your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyebrows have bunched again. “You’ve got mascara tracks on your cheeks,” he murmurs, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over the plane of your cheekbone. “S’breaking my heart.” 
“Sorry,” you say bashfully, and he rolls his eyes at you, pecking you again on the cheek like he can’t help himself. 
“What’re you sorry for, hm? Well,” he seems to reconsider, “you ought to be sorry about your knife skills, but that’s an apology you owe yourself, not me. I’ll be stowing all the knives where you can’t reach them from now on, by the way.” 
“First you’ll have to deal with all the residents you just disillusioned,” you tease him back. “Seems like they used to think you were cool and blase, but not anymore.” 
Remus shrugs. “People are multifaceted. If they didn’t know that already, then I taught them something today after all.” He gives you another soft look, though it’s far less worried than the others had been. “My poor darling,” he laments, setting his hands on either side of you to plant one final kiss on your forehead. “Rest here for a bit, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes, yeah?” 
“Okay, thanks,” you agree readily, happy to have a ride home considering the state you left your car in. “Gonna go try to restore your street cred with the residents?” 
“Dove, don’t be silly,” he says on his way out. “They worship me.” 
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5starl1ght · 7 months
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The missing piece
Lando Norris x reader
➪ you've got everything but maybe not everything until you meet Lando
Warnings:nothing
Mesterlist
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You have it all: a fulfilling career that you love and excel at, a supportive circle of friends who are always there for you and make you laugh, a wonderful family who loves you unconditionally and is proud of your achievements. You're living your best life, and you know it. You're grateful for everything you have, and you don't take anything for granted. You're happy, and you show it.
But sometimes, late at night, when you're lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you can't help but feel that something is missing. A spark, a thrill, a challenge. Something that makes your heart race and your palms sweat. Something that makes you feel alive.
You've tried to fill that void with different things: hobbies, travels, books, movies, music. But nothing seems to satisfy you. You feel restless, bored, unfulfilled. You crave something more, something different, something exciting.
And then you meet him.
Lando Norris, the Formula One driver who has taken the world by storm with his charisma, talent and charm. He's everything you've ever dreamed of: handsome, funny, smart, adventurous. He has a smile that melts your heart, eyes that pierce your soul, and a voice that sends shivers down your spine. He's also completely out of your league. But he doesn't seem to care. He's drawn to you like a magnet, and he makes you feel things you've never felt before.
He's the solution to it all. He's the missing piece of your puzzle. He's the one who can make you happy.
But can you handle the pressure of being with him? Can you cope with the fame, the media, the fans, the rivals? Can you trust him to stay faithful and loyal? Can you keep up with his fast-paced lifestyle?
You're about to find out.
You meet him at a charity event that your company sponsors. He's there as a guest of honor, and he gives a speech that inspires everyone in the room. You're impressed by his eloquence and his passion. You clap along with the rest of the audience, but you don't expect him to notice you.
But he does.
He walks up to you after his speech, and he introduces himself. He shakes your hand, and he looks into your eyes. He compliments you on your dress, and he asks you what you do for a living. He listens attentively as you tell him about your job, and he nods in appreciation. He tells you that he admires your work ethic and your ambition. He asks you if you like racing, and he invites you to join him at his next race.
You're stunned by his offer, but you don't hesitate to accept it. You exchange phone numbers, and he promises to call you soon. He kisses your cheek, and he leaves with a wink.
You're left speechless, breathless, mesmerized.
You can't believe what just happened. You just met Lando Norris, and he asked you out.
You pinch yourself to make sure it's real.
It is.
You smile like an idiot, and you feel butterflies in your stomach.
You can't wait to see him again.
You see him again two weeks later at his race in Monaco. He flies you there in his private jet, and he treats you like a princess. He shows you around the city, and he takes you to the best restaurants. He buys you flowers, chocolates, jewelry. He makes you laugh with his jokes, his stories, his impressions. He makes you feel special with his compliments, his attention, his affection.
He makes love to you in his hotel room overlooking the sea.
He makes love to you like no one else ever has.
He makes love to you like he means it.
He tells you that he loves you.
He tells you that he loves you more than anything in the world.
He tells you that he loves you more than racing.
You believe him.
You tell him that you love him too.
You tell him that you love him more than anything in the world.
You tell him that you love him more than your career.
You mean it.
You're happy.
You're happy like never before.
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tw // fatphobia, ed
I'm sorry, I love Hellaverse as much as the next guy but people cheering that "Fizz gained weight and it's a sign of healing!" are not serious. He gained as much weigh as Valentino lost between Masquerade and Welcome to Heaven aka he changed outfit. If they really wanted to convey this massage of healing, there are ways to do it in animation that don't make 50% of people doubt it's even real.
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We can love the show and still acknowledge that Vivzie absolutely sucks when it comes to body diversity and 2 of 3 fat characters she has just perpetuate harmful stereotype that being fat goes hand in hand with being rich, lazy, incompetent and lack of self awareness (they are basically Dudleys of this universe). And that is intentional, see, the literal sin of Gluttony (not all fat people are gluttonous obviously but yes, eating more than someone needs - which gluttony means - makes people fat) is right there but apparently she's too cool and too nice to be fat. Beside Mammon and Adam we have Mimzy. Technically she is not that bad but let's be real she's hated more than the rapist or the genocidal zealot. And since writing in Hellaverse is vary smart in my opion I don't believe Mimzy was created to be liked by audience. From interrupting one of the best songs, to crossing Alastor's boundaries and just being a bad friend, she was doomed from the beginning.
None of the characters we should actually root for is fat. And while being fat is not something that "should be explained" by other character's traits, even if we chose to follow this very flawed logic there are plenty of likeable characters that have """a reason""" to be fat. Alastor and Rosie are foodie-coded, Husk drinks a lot of booze, Vox spends most of the time watching TV, Lucifer is depressed and barely leaves his room... Okay but honestly if we reverse this way of thinking and actually stop treating skinny a default body shape there is only one character that has """a reason""" to be this skinny and it's Angel Dust who - as a famous pornstar - has to be commonly (yes we live in the society and porn industry treats fat people like fetish, not actually attractive human beings) desirable and easy to sexualize. Any character in the shows could be fat but choices were made.
And by the way I think they did a terrible job with the whole Fizz's eating disorder thing because when he supposed to be "skinny in the unhealthy way" he looks like 95% of characters.
Anyway, even your favorite media deserves valid criticism.
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kitweewoos · 2 months
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Evan "Buck" Buckley is an upcoming player with the NHL, a winger signed to the LA Kings after being scouted from the Hershey Bears, and he's finally found a home with his team. He can get his energy out in a constructive way rather than a destructive one, and he's good at hockey. He learned how to skate from Maddie when he was just a kid, a way for her to distract him from their parents' disappointment, and he learned how to be fast even before his growth spurt and muscle gain. He's tall, and strong, and one of the fastest skaters in the NHL. He's happy, and he can see his team going all the way to the Stanley Cup if they're good enough, if they practice and learn how each other work, if they become one on the ice. Then, the unimaginable happens. There's an accident, another skater crashes into him and then another, something cracks loud enough to be picked up by the television microphones, and Buck can't get up on the ice. He presses his face into the cold and sobs through the pain. He's rushed to the hospital and they have to surgically fix his leg. His doctors aren't sure he'll walk again, let alone skate, and he can't hear that. He can't, if he wants to survive this. His physical therapist, though, Doctor Thomas Kinard, "Tommy" as he insists on being called at their first appointment, thinks he can get Buck's mobility back and get him back on the ice before the next season, if Buck follows his routine and does the work. Buck is more than motivated, and he'll do anything that Tommy tells him to (and maybe it's not just because Tommy's a good doctor, but he's also very pretty and Buck is a simple bisexual man). Tommy is funny, and smart, and he doesn't let Buck get away with anything, pushing him to work harder and be better. He is good at what he does, and if he looks good doing it, Buck doesn't mention it to anyone. His hands are magic, and Buck doesn't mention to anyone that his favorite part of their appointments is when Tommy gives him a small massage to help prevent clotting. More than just a physical therapist, Tommy helps him understand that he is still an athlete, he is still worthy of his fans and his friends' attention, that he isn't just his injury or his scars. He reminds Buck every appointment that he's doing a great job and that he is so proud of the progress that he's made. He feeds Buck compliments like treats, and Buck has never had so much praise to feel genuine. It's addicting, far more than the pain meds he's given to make it through the day. He keeps his hands to himself, and his comments about Tommy's attractiveness, about Tommy's hands, about how he wouldn't mind those hands elsewhere on his body, at least until their final session when Tommy clears him to go back to work, and discharges him as a patient. Buck sits on the edge of the bed and looks up at Tommy. "Would it be inappropriate to ask you for your number?" "If you'd said that at the start of the appointment, yes, but since I'm no longer your physical therapist, here." When Buck plays his first game the next season, there's a roar of welcome applause from their audience, but all he sees is the man behind the bench, wearing his jersey with a big grin, cheering him on just the same as he did when he was recovering, and the way he will for the rest of their lives if he's very lucky.
Dedicated to @gregorygerwitz and @regent-of-rarepairs <3
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zhnnveuxpasdrmir · 2 months
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I wonder if a lot of tumblrs are having a deep think about the effects of power on the human animal, and what's left when you eliminate all the Bad People from your diet lately
fortunately for me I've grown quite accustomed to famous people whose work I liked revealing their horrible sides, intentionally or otherwise
Rosemary's Baby, Cyndi Lauper being mean backstage one time, every rock front man in the history of, Nina Hagen - ow that one hurt! I guess I wasn't even 20 yet by the time I'd grown worldly about celebrity. By the time 2000 rolled around I'd long sworn off ambitions of performance outside the truly creative, studio-free version.
In any case what I'm trying to get down is that these people were never personal friends of their audience, to begin with. That's not how it works.
You have to work out for yourself what you can tolerate, artwise, in your life. We're blessed not to know what kind of asshole Aeschylus might have been. Many of you won't ever know what a blow it was to North America when Bill Cosby turned out to be so horrible. The long term effects of his fall from grace just can't be overstated by this point.
It's always always unwise to make a hero or a saint of anyone. Don't make the mistake of thinking there's a kind of person who was never bad, who can't disappoint you.
It's a rare person for whom wealth and power, in any amount, isn't deeply "corrupting" with regard to how others are treated, sexuality, expressions of control, satisfaction of desire. There's a great deal about humanity that is hard to face, disappointing to learn. That's one of the loudest lessons: those we elevate are changed forever by the attention. It might do well to have some better cultural rules and customs in place than complaint & argument. It might be really smart to organize our real life communities around that understanding.
It might give us a better quality of life to decentralize celebrity.
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raven-cincaide · 2 months
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𝚰𐓣𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𐓣𝗀 ɦυꭑα𐓣
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Summary: Women were annoying, weak things, not even beings. Just there to be fucked, bred or killed, whichever pleased him the most at that moment. Sukuna had never seen a strong woman until he met you. OR. The time Sukuna encounters a human that he finds the least bit interesting.
Pairing: (hint at Curse user)Fem!Reader x Sukuna (Heian era) Prompt: Back to the basics → Gorgeous goddess/ demon  Warning: Cursing, violence, crude language, death, dark fic containing themes and descriptions not suitable for minors and sensitive audiences. Reader discretion is advised.
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‘You fought like a man’ 
It was a compliment in Sukuna’s mind; an acknowledgement which separated you from the typical human women he usually dealt with; the twirly girly kinds that fawn their assets at him in exchange for their lives, the frightened ones that cover behind objects too paralyzed to do anything or the screeching ones that’d run from hiding place to hiding place with their parents, children, partners only to run straight into him. The kind that would drop to their knees or trip over the thick plain garbs they dared call ‘kimono’ and face plant at his feet. 
As they scrambled up, they’d stare up at him as if their tears, pleas and doe eyes would make the curses feel something as pathetic as ‘pity’. Cry and scream is all they’d do, clutching to each other like cattle as Sukuna flickered his wrist, slashing them into chunks of meat that’d litter the dirty streets and paint the buildings red.  Pathetic, boringly weak. 
Not you. 
You are interestingly graceless, yes, mortally inferior and untrained. But the most interested he had been in a human in ages. Arms crossed over his chest, he watches you from a distance, the way you clutch the mortal weapons in your hands. Standing on top of a box of wooden crates. Shooting arrow after arrow, which seemed to make more of a difference against his kind than the tools the other humans- men- fought with: dull knives, shovels and pitchforks. You were fighting with a semblance of a level head despite being weaker and outmatched. 
Sukuna wanted to see you mad. To see you fight when consumed by rage.
He was sure you’d put up a show. If you lived so long, that is. Which he truthfully doubted; he could tell you weren’t very smart. Indeed another pitiful human trait. No, the smartest for you would be to run and hide, get a reasonable distance from him and his henchmen and then shoot at them from a height- if you had the skill for it. But instead, you stupidly stood still on your crates stacked against the house wall. You are so obvious and visible and so easy to slaughter. All it would take is a single flicker of his wrist, and you’d be gone. But Sukuna refrained, for now, watching how you’d handle your own against a low-level curse. His curiosity entertained. 
You are, indeed, an interestingly pitiful creature. 
Oblivious to the internal monologue of the demon watching you, or even his very presence, you raise your bow and aim. The tip of your arrow pointing towards a gruelling, gurgling creature that speaks and purrs at the sight of scattered limbs and rolling heads. Reaching for the dead and gnawing at them as if they were a delicious treat. It’s behaviour disgusts you, reminding you to focus. These weren’t humans or living beings—just demons dressed in flesh. 
You hold the arrow steady until it glows a faint blue hue before releasing the string. Miss, cursing as it pierces the wall of the opposite house, far away from the demon you aimed it at. You take a deep breath and try again; this time, the arrow soars much lower than you wanted it to, but it connects with the creature's thigh, ripping its leg right off. 
Your next arrow takes its arm. 
The demon stops its feasting and turns to face you, then roars. Gastly expression, pain and rage contorting its ugly features even more monstrous. But there was something about a mouth full of razor-sharp and bloody fangs that unnerves you so much you feel yourself still. Your body freezes. Heart pounding in your ears. Then, as the creature roars again and limps towards you, you raise your bow again, with your arms shaking. Fear is evident in your expression. You try to shoot and fail, your hands shaking so much they stop working, letting go of the bow instead of the string. 
You watch in horror as your weapon falls, pitifully clattering against the base of the crates below you. You look up again at the demon. There’s no time for you to fetch your bow and no place for you to run. You’ve trapped yourself between the house and the beast. 
You can smell it now, and visibly pale; the horrid stench that can only be described as decades of uncleaned teeth and rotting flesh, just like what you assume death smells like. 
You’re going to die. You’re sure of it now. 
An eery type of calm settles over you, the very definition of ‘shikata ga nai.’ It can’t be helped. It is a natural course of life; everything that lives has to die, and now it is your turn.  There’s no hero to save you, no human to plead mercy to. It is a natural occurrence that isn’t particular or amazing in the slightest. 
You are going to die, and the world will continue after your death as if you never existed. No significant change, no memory of you. Time will tick forward as if you had never existed. Because although you viewed yourself as important, you were just another human- a speck of dust like any other. A soon-to-be shredded and eaten corpse. Your skin would litter the streets like your fellow villagers, and your blood would paint the buildings red. 
You are going to die, and no one will remember you for existing or mourn you once you’re gone. You’ve made no difference, no– You cut off your trail of thoughts as your shaking hands grasped an arrow tightly between them, the demon almost on you. You’re going to die, but refuse to die petrified for nothing. The least you can do is take one of these bastards with you. 
“Go for the head, brat.”
You visibly startle as you hear an unfamiliar voice boom around the plundered village amidst the cries and groans of your fellow villagers. It's rough and ragged, unbothered, but it helps. It makes your mind focus on that one task—the head. You grasp the arrow tighter in your hands, raising it above your head as the demons launch for you- and you jump at it. With a sickening ‘crunch’, the arrow slices into the forehead, sticking there as you cling to it with all your weight. A second passes, and then the arrow flares a darker shade of blue, beginning to slice through. It happened so fast that the demon has no time to react, yet to you, it occurs as though in slow motion. Inch by agonising inch the arrow cuts through until your feet touch the slippery ground. You try to stand- slip- and flop down onto your stomach in the muck, panting heavily. The demon above you stands a moment longer before each half falls away on either side of you, its sticky guts spilling all over your hair, neck and back.
“Tsk, disgraceful.” 
It’s that voice again—nearer this time, accompanied by a steady shuffling of feet. The sandals with odd thin straps and black socks stop right before you. A flicker of hope pulses through you, and you raise your head just a little higher, your gaze trailing up the feminine white kimono with a simple black design and then even further up—thin hips, and broad shoulders, which were definitely not a woman's built. You expect to see a sorcerer, maybe a hero, standing above you. Someone rough-tugged and ragged from years of war. The man you see is the opposite of that, with the sun shining from behind him, towering over you without a speck of blood on him; he looks breathtaking to you; “like an angel.”
Yet the moment the words leave your lips his face contours into one of disgust. The sound of a shrilled cry from the house behind you breaks the moment.
 Before understanding what is happening, you see the man you called ‘angel’ raise his arm. “NO!” you scream, throwing all your body onto his outstretched arm, an act that makes him swing just the slightest bit differently. Take off the head of the monster behind you, along with part of the exterior wall of the house you were protecting. 
“Insolent brat”, the man spits, his free hand grasping your throat. Choking you. One of your hands tries to pry his fingers off, and the other, still holding the sticky, damaged arrow, raises it. You pray in your mind that you can garnish enough energy to get him to stop, and then drive it towards his hand with all your might. 
You feel his grip tighten, and dark dots play in your vision. Then the hand loosens just barely but sufficient for you to get a gasp of air. Keeping you conscious enough to hear him speak, “You’ll make a fine concubine.” 
You try and glare through squinted eyes, your nails digging into his skin. “N-never” 
“Hah, I’ll have you punished for that. Submit or watch the rest of your village perish.” It was an ultimatum catered to you. As if he knew you’d do anything to protect the villagers behind you, the few that remained. A tempting offer to continue existing, even if it was as his plaything, while at the same time feeding your mortal ego that you were sacrificing yourself for the sake of others. A chance to make yourself remembered- to make a difference.  A pact with a demon that would feed into your human desire to protect those you knew and loved—a self-sacrificing fool. 
You hated yourself as you dropped your hands to your side limply. “ I’ll kill you”, You promise as he cuts off your air supply again, this time forcing you to succumb to darkness.
Sukuna stares down at you before dropping your limp body to the ground. Then, he motioned for Uraume to get you packed up and round the rest of the demons up to head back. Plundering and slaughtering is done. 
For now. 
He could trade the reminisce of the village for something as interesting as you. There was nothing left to plunder there anyway, but the entertainment you’d give him as his concubine would surely surpass the price of possibly leaving a few insects behind.
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Life is never as it seems~ Raven
Author note: I love the prompt where Sukuna’s woman is weak and gorgeous like a flower, and Sukuna takes care of her (but not before being a total ass!), it's a guilty pleasure of mine. But a small voice in my mind always says that if Sukuna were ever to take a woman as something more than for a night of fun, especially during the Heian era, then it’d be someone who could at the very least, land a scratch on him. Power is sexy like that! 
Still, I hope you enjoyed this fic, and if you wanna check out more of my works, see my masterlist below!
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Main |Raven | Rules and Requests | Masterlist | Links
All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!
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hauntedraggedyanne · 2 months
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Easy writing tips
I tried to make these as vague as possible to fit into multiple genres
—If you’re having trouble with dialogue and showing how the character acts and talks at the same time, go to a separate note/doc and write it from the other character’s perspective. Do they notice things like their watering eyes, shaking lips, or how their voice is lower than it normally is? Once you know how they come off to others, it can be easier to write it down from the perspective you want.
—Find out how to embarrass your protagonist to generate early conflict
—Give them a fantasy they always go back to for a bit extra personality. Is it a vacation in a tropical island, or walking their dog peacefully with someone they care about, or is it picturing their future as a massively famous musician?
—Describe their living space. Focus on how messy it is after a difficult break up, how small and condensed the space they live in is, or how they meticulously clean and dust every single day.
—If you’re worried that the dialogue feels flat, cringy, or just not right, think of the worst book, show, or game you’ve ever played dialogue-wise. The story, characters, or actors could be an 11/10, but the dialogue is so terrible you can’t stand it. Write under that influence. Show yourself that it can ALWAYS be better than that.
—For a first draft, if you’re worried about a part of your novel being confusing or not making sense, make a comment and call it “explaining *plot device* to an idiot” and write as follows. Once you know what you absolutely need to get across, you can go back to your story and figure out how to convey those elements but more in character and without sounding like a kindergarten teacher. DO NOT MAKE THE IDIOT DRAFT THE FINAL DRAFT.
—Going off of the last one, it’s very important to treat your audience like people who THINK they’re smart. Their actual intelligence can vary, but if you’re going to make your narrative complicated and complex, then you need to make sure that a majority of the people walk away getting something out of it. Don’t talk to the audience like they’re four, but also don’t expect them to understand the capacities of your magic system or quantum physics.
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devastatinglygreen · 4 months
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Why do you think they're waiting for the Lady Whistledown reveal?
aside from drama? and i mean that seriously. i know everyone had headcanons and wants for years here but they're building tension. there was no real tension in part one outside of sexual and the stakes need to be higher for the penultimate episode.
the next bit is spoilers we know have been pretty much seen by too many people for ep 5 at least so wander under the cut at your own risk:
i think, and i know a lot of people aren't going to be thrilled about colin not knowing before some things happen, that they need to do two things: solidify their relationship a bit and basically send penelope into a spiral to take the stakes higher.
they have plot armor, they're not going to behead penelope right there in the queen's garden with the peacocks once she gets caught. the only thing truly up for grabs is polin. and not even that, not really, but it's the thing the audience is going to care about.
the spoilers have penelope trying to tell him but failing because she keeps getting interrupted. every time she fails, the clock ticks further. it's a pressure build. eloise is on her back. colin is just wandering along, deliriously happy and penelope knows she's carrying this bomb she's gonna blow up in his face.
she lost eloise to it. colin is the love of her life. i think we can all do that math. she's so stressed out by eloise's timeline she can barely breathe and then comes cressida.
you've got cressida taking credit for LW, colin's happiness sitting on her shoulders (tho i do think it's also so smart of them to have him defend penelope to portia before he finds out, it might give him some insight to how penelope is treated and feels when the right time comes), eloise is assuming things and giving her hell.
i mean, wouldn't you be a mess too? like, give the girl some grace her entire life is imploding right after getting what she's always wanted and never thought she'd get and losing the two most important people in the world to her only a few months before. would you want to blow that up again? yes, yes, i'm sure everyone who says "but she has to!" is very morally outraged and perfectly righteous in their own lives scoffs at the idea that penelope might struggle with a secret she doesn't know what to do with.
it's not like we've never seen how that eats her up before, right? oh. we totally have. nvm.
anyways. cressida. i kind of hope it's the turning point for peneloise because i think even eloise knows she's not a good person to have in a position of power like that. say what you want but penelope doesn't lie in LW.
add in they seem to be bringing in book scenes and i'm going to guess colin catches her after she takes off to print something saying cressida is a whole ass lie. fight ensues. angst! stakes are ridiculously high. the wedding is planned. the pedestals are knocked over and now colin will know everything. does he love her after that? can he? does he trust her ever again? (clearly yes or they're gonna need to change up that family tree thing they released lol).
this will give way to colin having to come to terms with penelope's legacy and how it affects his own estimation of himself and his writing. jealousy like the book. it's a colin issue and he knows it but he still has to deal with it.
colin very much thinks penelope is his purpose, right? the book says it. LN said it about show colin. he's gotta reconcile that LW and penelope are two halves of the same person. he can't put them both in boxes.
anyways what i mean is that the stakes need to be high and her blurting it out then having 2.5 episodes of them moping around about their LW fight isn't really the thing that gets your heart racing when you've got 8 episodes to tell the whole story.
(also as an aside, i think it's going to lead to us getting second "firsts" in a way. it's not going to be a first kiss or anything but i feel like the energy of it all will be different and i, personally, think that could be very fun)
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animelovelover123 · 3 months
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Devil May Cry Boys x Pornstar/Webcam Model
Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V, & Sparda x Reader
Synopsis: How the DMC boys would react, deal with, and treat you if you were a porn star and/or a webcam model (aka camgirls and camboys). Note that your insert has willingly chosen and enjoys this career path.
Disclaimer: I do mention your insert possibly smacking a guy for a very inappropriate comment as a joke. Do not do this in real life. Your feelings are valid but violence is usually not the answer
Trigger Warnings: Brief references to some of the negative aspects of the entertainment industry like stalking, drugs, STDs, and assault.
Dante
Dante is, by far, the most relaxed and supportive of you when you tell him. To him, it's just another form of work. A bit of a dirty kind of job but as a demon hunter he also does dirty work. As long as you are doing this because you want to and not because you are being pressured or forced in any way then he supports you and your career. Perhaps he supports it a bit too much though because once he finds out he is adamant about helping you.
He wants to fuck you on camera so bad. It would be so hot. Plus, what amazing jerk-off material that would be, not that he doesn't find your videos and jerks off to them anyway once you tell him your stage name. You can put his body and face on camera all you want, he doesn’t mind.
He is quite a versatile co-star, ready and willing to do pretty much anything. It also helps that he is stronger, faster, and heals quicker than most so if you or your audience wants to see you be fucked while suspended by his muscular arms or some BDSM, he is down for it. He says he is up for acting out scenarios, but he is quite hokey with it.
If you team up with other stars or go to events with them also attending, you will find that he knows quite a few of them. And I don’t mean that he simply recognizes them from their work. He has met them, had conversations, been hired to help protect them when being hunted by lust-based demons and obsessed fans, and maybe slept with one or two.
As a sexual entertainment star, having people ask you for sex was common. But having people asking for sex with your boyfriend is definitely a new experience.
This also means that he won't be trying to use you to meet other porn stars that he is a fan of. Although... if you can get Dominique Tereshkova to sign his poster of her, that would be sweet.
If you are required to fuck someone for your job, he is fine with that. He understands it's just work and doesn’t take it personally. Though he will playfully pout and whine a bit.
"Why didn’t you ask me to be your co-star baby?" He asked with a hand dramatically clutching his chest over his heart. His other hand sneaks around your hips and pulls you against his chest so he can whisper into your ear. "You know there's no one that can please you like I can." After that he lets you go, off to do your job with the seed of longing planted for when you reunite.
For anyone who doesn’t know, Dominique Tereshkova is a model in the DMC universe. Her most prominent appearance is in the opening cutscene of the first game. Dante grabs his sword from the wall which is covering the boobs of a model on a poster. Dominique Tereshkova is that model.
Reboot Dante
When you tell Dante he has the bright idea to make the joke “That’s fine, I’ve fucked plenty of sluts before.” He is surprisingly understanding if you choose to smack him for this and/or give him the cold shoulder for a while. Alternatively, he likes you a bit more if you laugh.
In general he does not mind you being a sexual entertainer. Though, because of his lifestyle, he will assume that you are doing this because the world is shit and you don’t have a choice. When you tell him that you chose this career he thinks you’re smart. “Getting paid to fuck? Sounds great, assuming you don’t get a potluck of STDs.”
In general Dante knows a bit more about the sex industry, the positives and negatives. How it can be full of free things, parties, drugs, and assaults.
Despite acting casual, he worries about you and puts up no complaints if you want to visit the doctor every few weeks, use him as a bodyguard, or call him at odd hours to ask if he can pick you up and escort you places.
If you are a camgirl/boy, he is not as well-versed in that subsection of the industry and will ask you about it.
Either way, he will joke about the hundreds of “fat ugly fucks getting their rocks off to you”.
He will definitely ask you to introduce him to top stars which he will casually make perverted jokes at, but no matter what he will be going home with you. Even if he gets to meet the hottest and most desirable actress/actor in the country, he would not go behind your back to sleep with them. Although, if you are interested in a three-way then he is down with it.
He personally isn’t interested in being part of your work. No real reason, just not into it. But if you really beg him, you can convince him.
He will brag to everyone that he is dating a pornstar/camgirl/boy. It’s a boost to masculine pride that his woman/man is drooled over by hundreds of people.
Once he finds out your stage name he does look up one or two of your past works out of curiosity. Then he proceeds to tease you about some of the things you had to do for the camera.
There is one particular thing he notices though that, after some testing to make sure his suspicion is correct, he gets a jolt of pride from.
That face you do and the sounds you make in your videos/livestreams when you cum… that’s fake, acted. It has to be because when he fucks you your orgasms are a lot more intense.
Seeing as the reboot is more realistic with the depiction of the world and how it treats people, I thought this was a good spot to address some of the dangers without going too deep into it because we are just trying to have fun here. Feel free to do your own research if you are curious.
Vergil
Upon finding out that you are working in the sex industry, Vergil questions what the world is trying to tell him as destiny has made his second love another sexual entertainer.
Although he makes a vow to himself that he will not run away this time. He is not the same teenager who acts cold and distant out of fear of making connections because of the trauma he experienced with losing his family and everything he cared about in the past.
After all he has been through, he…doesn’t want to be alone anymore.
You, even after finding out about his past and the catastrophic mistakes he has made from a blind pursuit of power, still wanting to be with him, to give him a chance, that means more to him than you will ever know.
He wants to do right by you, give you all of him, but it is not that easy. He still has a cold outward demeanor, speaking frankly and keeping his feelings to himself for the most part, and can come off as rude or uncaring at times.
For example; if you ask him if he is really okay with your job and what it entails, he gives you a serious expression, which looks like a glare, and tells you “As I have said before, your choice of career is of no concern to me”.
He is doing his best to express himself, give him time.
He, knowing the danger that wo/men of the night go through from his past lover, insists on watching over you during shoots or live streams. He will sit there, out of the way, staring intently at all that interact with you like an overprotective knight.
Vergil, by now, knows what you enjoy in bed and what you don’t. So, when your co-star does something or the director or a fan requests you to do something he knows you do not enjoy, he will intervene. He has gotten into arguments with people for not putting your pleasure first and making you uncomfortable. Vergil does not understand, or like, that when you work for someone else or rely on others gifting you money, you sometimes have to do things you don’t quite like.
This, along with his instinctual desires to control, protect, and dominate, leads him to work towards easing your financial burdens and providing for you. If, through being a demon hunter and procurer of artifacts to sell, he can make enough money to support you both then you will not have to work, correct?
His intent is to make your life easier and have you rely on him like no one has done since he was a child, with a hint of wanting you to only look at him for sexual satisfaction. However, sometimes he can come off as being overbearing and possibly a bit too traditional in his views of “stronger man must be the one providing for the family”. He does not intend to insult or minimize your desire for independence.
He will not stop you from pursuing your career though if that is what you truly want. He honestly respects you for standing up for yourself and taking your life into your own hands, even if when you tell him this you get to see one of his rare pouts.
He has no intention of participating in your work. He is not a trusting or open person so doing something so explicit and being so valuable in front of others is a horrifying idea. However, in his pursuit of protecting you from co-stars, directors, and fans who pressure you to do things that will not bring you pleasure, he has occasionally given little demonstrations on how to treat you right.
He acts calm about you having to be intimate with, and in front of, others as it is what your job entails. On the inside though his possessive demon side burns with frustration whenever he sees you with someone else, especially when he sees you being subject to acts that he knows you do not particularly enjoy.
His answer to this, to settle his own feelings and aid in lifting yours, is to whisk you away after your work so he can give you all the pleasure and satisfaction you were wrongly deprived of.
A good chunk of this is influenced by the fan theory that Vergil did love Nero’s mother and the fact that, in the novel, Nero is picked on by others who claim he is the son of a “prostitute”, though whether she was actually a sex worker is unconfirmed. I thought, with you in this situation being a sexual entertainer, it would be interesting to bring in Vergil’s possible past with sexual entertainers.
Reboot Vergil
Vergil does not have an interest in the sexual entertainment field as he is much too busy with The Order and its goals. And it is this focus on his goal that led to you two meeting.
Porn has always been another way the demons have controlled the human masses, and this new age has widened their reach through sexual webcam modelling. All the top stars are part of big sexual model industries that are run by demons and as such they are a target for The Order. You, though, despite being one of the top people in the industry, are an independent entertainer so not under the control of demons. You are able to get in touch with all the top demon scum but do not have loyalty to them, and it is this unique circumstance that leads to you being conscripted into The Order as a spy.
It starts with a “random fan”, spending the money to get some private time with you. But when you meet them, whether in person or through a video chat, instead of 15 minutes of playing to some person’s fantasy, you are instead met with the masked man from all the news stories telling you the frightening truth of the world.
After becoming a spy for The Order, your relationship with Vergil grew as you spent time together discussing plans and you explaining to him how the industry worked and what you could do for info without being seen as suspicious or, worse, blacklisted.
To be frank, he thought you were lesser than him when first meeting, though that was more because you were human and not Nephilim. But still, he had the assumption that you gave in to the pressures of this demon-run world that claims the only thing gorgeous people like you are good for is doing sexual entertainment.
He is fascinated when you reveal that, despite having other opportunities, you actually chose this career and enjoy it. As you explain to him how you got to this point, the freedom and hard work it takes to be an independent creator, his respect for you grows, along with his affection.
You start dating with him being fully aware of what you do. He understands if you are required to have sex with other people for your job, as he too has had to do some unsavoury things for the sake of his mission. However, he also insists that once his plan is complete you can quit your job, instead living in comfort and luxury with him. He is adamant about this, even if you tell him you would prefer to keep working as an entertainer.
Being that you are both public figures, it is not uncommon for one or both of you to be recognized when out together and within a couple of weeks your relationship has become headline tabloid news. For the most part, people are shocked and question why Vergil, the (as far as the public knows) innocent man orphaned at a young age, adopted by a kind rich family, and so gifted in codding that he had made millions and built his own company before being legally allowed to drink, was hanging around someone like you. Words ‘whore’, ‘prostitute’, ‘slut’, and if you were lucky ‘arm candy’, were the things usually used to describe you.
Vergil, even at the risk of his squeaky clean façade, defended you, and almost all wo/men in the sexual entertainment industry, at every opportunity.
“Singers sell their voice, models sell their face and figure, and scientists sell their minds. What is so wrong about a person selling their body? Besides, straight men are celebrated for their sexuality and praised for their sexual prowess, yet men of any other sexuality and women are vilified for being confident in themselves and doing the same. It is hypocritical and I, for one, will not stand for it.”
This gamble ends up paying off in that it gains respect from much of the younger population and angers much of the older and conservative population enough to start complaining, which leads to fights and mockery. It is the usual perpetual circle that comes with the difference in morals between generations. In short, it gets eyes off of you two for the most part, though you do get a spike in fans because of the fiasco.
You also get people asking if you could convince Vergil to participate in your work with you, which he refuses. He respects your job but personally, he is not comfortable with showing his body off to people he does not fully trust. This is a man who wears a long-sleeved shirt and pants under a full-length coat with gloves in every season. This is just who he is and what he is comfortable with, and he hopes you can respect his feelings as he respects yours.
He does not watch any of your work unless he is there to monitor when you are acting as a spy and trying to get information out of people. Again, this is nothing against you or your work, but things like porn or even live displays like strip shows were never that entertaining to him.
Besides, why long for you from the other side of the screen when he has you at his beck and call?
This might sound odd, but with Vergil working to gather information and destroy the society Mundus created, I could see him shmoozing women in high society for information.
Nero
Nero, due to the conservative hold The Order of the Sword had over Fortuna and the mockery he got for his mother, supposedly, being a sex worker, Nero’s views of sex work and sexual entertainment are not the best. Still, he has always been curious, and craved, things outside of the suffocating religion, and once he got out of Fortuna his world opened up, so he tries to be open-minded when you tell him about your chosen career.
It will take him a bit to get used to the idea and settle his protectiveness and jealousy over you showing your body off to other people.
Honestly, he finds it kind of hot that you are so confident in, and comfortable with, yourself to do that sort of thing.
The first time you have to have sex with someone else after getting together though, he gets legitimately upset. It isn’t that he thinks you are cheating on him or being dirty. It is more so his insecurities and desperation to be number one in your heart that makes him insist you call it off.
He tentatively admits that he wants to be part of some of your work.
This starts with him using his engineering skills to build you various pleasurable devices that you can use in your videos. It is admittedly very satisfying to see you on screen being fucked by some mechanism he created. It was a little secret between just the two of you, almost like he was vicariously fucking you on camera. And yet… that was not satisfying enough.
Honestly, fucking you to an audience is kind of a tantalizing idea. It itches the proud side of him that likes to show off how beautiful and sexy and perfect his lover is.
However he could not bear to have people he knows come across the video or livestream and recognize him, ESPECIALLY not his adoptive or newly rediscovered blood family.
When the idea of doing POV porn or just generally being a faceless man while the camera focuses on you, never showing his face, comes up it sounds like a good compromise. The only problem is his damn arm.
No one has a demon arm or mechanical arm quite like him so it is easily recognizable and would give him away. There is the option, after losing his arm, of just having his stub since there were thousands of amputees in the world. However, the moment he notices negative comments about it he nixes that out of fear of making you lose your audience and livelihood.
In the end he just has to learn to resist the urge to talk or grab you with his right hand when filming together. This is fine with POV shots or when he works the camera as his right arm is occupied. It is a big struggle when he does not have anything else to do with his hands though. It also doesn’t help that he is a talker.
In most videos and/or livestreams he breaks this self-imposed rule. He can’t help it. You make him feel so damn good. And seeing you splayed out, hearing your loud moans and cries, he can’t resist the urge to mark you with his teeth and grab you with both hands so he can slam into you harder.
I will take every chance I get to bring up Nero’s engineering skills because it does not get enough attention for my liking. Also Nero’s lack of self-control but that’s just because I find it hot.
You know that the moment that practically any of the DMC crew finds out that Nero is in pornographic videos, he is never going to hear the end of it. Poor Nero, lol.
V
V does not bat an eye when you tell him what you do for a living as he is a man of art and little shame.
He has read and seen countless works of art depicting the natural and euphoric act of embracing another in the most intimate way. And, in a way, V sees your work as art in its own right, meant to make viewers feel not just emotions but physical sensations through just observing. It’s impressive the extent to which your fans worship you and your body despite having never met you in person and most not having spoken to you.
He also has no qualms about other people seeing your naked form. First and foremost, it is your body and who and to what extent you show it to others is not his choice to make, even as your love. Again, he has seen and read many works of art depicting people with little to no coverings. He has also experienced being naked in public in the first couple months of his life he was homeless, left to bathe in bodies of water and steal his clothes, so claiming it is wrong for you to show your body would be hypocritical in his eyes.
He will not use you to meet other sexual entertainers both because he does not really watch porn, but also because he is more interested in people’s minds rather than their bodies and he doubts he can get any of them to sit down and have a serious discussion with him.
He does not mind if you have to have do someone else for your art because, as he puts it in his silky smooth deep voice, “they can have sex with you, but only I can make love to you.”
However if you mention how good a co-star was at something or how you found a new sexual interest through having to do it for work, V will suddenly start incorporating that more into your own intimate moments, doing his best to go above and beyond to please you.
Even with this, he is not all that interested in participating in your work, but if you were to ask him to, he would gladly do it to make you happy. He does not mind others seeing you two making love, though he does have trouble resisting his natural urges, like whispering sweet nothings into your ear and drawing out the pleasure by slowly grinding against and into you, to please the audience.
However, all this would be different if your form of sexual entertainment was, instead, audio-based. If you created stories of lust and voice acted them out, which was a form of sexual entertainment growing in popularity lately, then V would be a lot more invested. He would want to learn all about it, help you write scripts, and even voice act and narrative with you.
Together you two would weave epic tails filled with love, drama, and boundless lust. You end up becoming an extremely popular duo and even peek your head into the mainstream.
One side effect of this is that V becomes very good at getting you riled up with just his voice. The amount of times you will get random calls from V who, sometimes as himself and sometimes playing a character, whisks your imagination away to pleasures untold only to stop just before the peak with a suggestion that you finish this “in person”, is unbearable.
I am an enjoyer of the auditory sexual entertainment field. Right now I am listening to YSF Audio, Yagami Yato, Leon Kennedy ASMR (this is their YouTube and Patreon name), and Seikyuu VA but I have listened to many more. I love it and think V’s voice would be perfect for it. If I had the money to hire Brian Hanford, oh lordy loo, I would be drowning in the best auditory experience of my life! ^///^!
Sparda
Sparda is not up to date with human technology and culture so when you tell him you are a porn star or webcam module he does not know what that means. If you tell him you are a sexual entertainer though he responds with “I see, so you work at a brothel then?” You’ll need to educate him.
When he does finally understand he doesn’t bat an eye. He sees nothing wrong, questionable, or even strange about your choice of career. Honestly, he is more fascinated by the technology humans have to capture and transmit video and the economy built around it.
Sparda is a demon. He comes from a world where murder, assault, breeding, kidnapping, and all manner of things seen as horrible by most humans are more common than politely meeting each other. So the idea that you display your body and let yourself be recorded doing sexual acts as a job does not phase him. If anything, he is happy to know that you get compensated for this rather than it being forced upon you like it is often done in the demon world.
He does, however, have a problem with you having sex with other people deep down, especially if you bring that person into your shared home. The animalistic side of his nature flairs up at the scent of other people on you and in the home. At his core, he is still a demon who desires to dominate and protect what he cares for.
He is reformed through, having woken up to justice and chosen to live, learn from, and protect humans. So he tries to stay calm and gentlemanly, doing things like greeting you when you come back from a shoot or finish a livestream as if you have just come home from your job at the local grocery store. “Welcome home dear, how was work? Anything exciting happen?”
You can tell when he is particularly bothered when he becomes more touchy, insisting that he hold you, you sit in his lap, or generally wanting to nuzzle against you so he can replace the scent of a stranger on you with his own.
And, to the surprise of many, one of your icons, one could even call it a type of beauty mark, that starts defining your performance persona is the fanged bite marks that always seem to be present somewhere on your person.
Literally, the starting point for Sparda being in this one is because I wanted to make the brothel joke.
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max1461 · 1 year
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Honestly as much as I'm like "I appreciate media that is unabashedly horny", which is true, anime fan service is often a bit too much for me just on the level of like, my own taste. Uh it just comes across as crass and tacky a lot, it makes the work more difficult for me to enjoy.
I also think the argument that it's like, often problematic objectification is not wrong. Maybe that's obvious. But like, well, there's something subtle (or sometimes, not so subtle) which makes the difference for me between "media that feels horny in a 'fair' way" and "media which feels horny in 'gross' or 'gawking' way". Those are both poor terms but like, sexualized in a way that feels...
Well there's no easy line for me to draw here. There's nothing specifically that you can't do in work, IMO, there's basically no line that I'm like "categorically you can't cross that". But I do think you should be at least somewhat aware of the ideas your work is conveying about sexuality and society and so on.
Uh maybe what I mean is just "have tact". Like I don't mean "never try to titillate the audience", and I don't mean "all your titillation must sufficiently be subversive of social norms to be allowed", or whatever. Lots of people who say the thing I said in the last paragraph mean one of those things. But I don't. I just mean don't be a dumbass, maybe? I mean something. I mean be aware that like, while I don't a priori object to a work in which every female character's boobs flap around simply because the creator finds it hot, there are certain works where you really should not do that. You see? Things have to be... contextually appropriate, and I mean both the work's internal context but also its context in society as a whole. Right, because of social conditions, and you know, the way that women are treated, and shit, well you're all smart you all know, there's certain contexts in which it is not appropriate to have all the female characters have their boobs flop around. And many more contexts where it's sort of fine it just makes the work a bit worse.
Idk.
Cause like. There's some anime, actually a lot of it, that's just ridiculously straight-guy-horny and I'm just like "you know what, this is fine actually, this is great. I have zero problem with this." And then there's a lot that has all the same shit in it and I'm like "oof, that feels really inappropriate. That feels like a shitty portrayal, an insensitive thing to include, that's bad."
And the different is not the nature of the panty shots themselves it's everything around the panty shots, right. Does that make sense?
I feel like the is kind of the sensible synthesis of recent (and IMO correct) trends around like, idk, pro-horniness? Like sex positivity already means a specific thing but like, pro-horniness, you know, pro-desire (many people on this website are talking about such thing, and again I think correctly), with the IMO also true and important fact that like, objectification of women and so on is a real thing in media and it is actually problematic (I mean "problematic" in the naive sense, not as SJ jargon). Like maybe it's not problematic in the exact set of ways 2014 pop-feminism or anti-porn radfems or whatever say it is, but it's like. There are contexts in which I think you really probably should not be zooming in on the boobs and so on. Like, you feel me?
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