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#edit no 2; now its showing up in the tags
felixiskandar · 10 months
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im with the shippers on this one tbqh. like why are they doing all that if carmen and syd arent meant to be
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skyburger · 21 days
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whos your favorite of the crusaders from part 3... i think i love baofu the most tbh
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boxwinebaddie · 6 months
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would your stans be the type to solve disagreements with a just dance battle since theyre pacifists
yes...i support this.
***my stans both claim they wont stop putting up peace signs in pictures until theres world peace lmaooo
i am not sure, however...that they would win many.
cue me combining the complicated answer to your simple question with some ncu dance headcannons, but i do hope they thrill you!
but alright, so i said that because...
...i am not convinced whatsoever that pep!stan has rhythm.
which musically, of course, he is very gifted. he can sing and play guitar really well, could probably pick up other instruments if he tried.
one of my favorite headstannons actually ( and i think its present across both stans ) is that he has perfect pitch...and when kyle and him are arguing and kyle is lecturing him stan gets suuuuper annoying and starts being like "a, b, e flat, wow f sharp" KYLE GETS SOOOOO MAD ITS SO DKHSDLHDS hes so annoying help
however, being musically gifted does not mean...you can dance.
and in the baggy ass, gigantic ass skater boy jeans, the gigantic slouchy metal hoodies, the big beanie, his greasy ass blonde bangs all up in his ( cute little ) face and his vans untied...its a no from me.
like dead sober he's just hella stiff, has no interest in dancing, every single prom or dance he's been to with wendy was actually hell omg
BUUUUUUUT....drunk stan ;)
he will get SOOO WEIRD!!! hes down like oh my god, like dead sober stan is like ready to die if there is dancing, drunk stan is pulling you on the dance floor, sloppy as hell, spinnin you around, kissin ur hand!
like is it good dancing? no absolutely not? is it lit? absolutely.
okay like specifically, him and kenny? TOGETHER? it goes so hard like stan learned dance moves for one reason and one reason only and was to turn up to parties and absolutely fuck! it! up!
WAIT OK THE FOOTBALL ONE WHEN STAN SHOWS UP TO THE FUNCTION LATE AS HELL STILL IN HIS FOOTBALL JERSEY??? I JUST KNOW KYLE IS SWEATING WHEN HE SMIRKS AT HIM
also i just remembered that i canonically after winning shot roulette, had extremely drunk stan get up on the kitchen counter and drop it low to im sexy and i know it and collect dollar bills like a stripper and..
u know what!!!! it was definitely a low budget strip tease at best, very messy, the man has litrally no ass, but he is FINE so u know what, he looked good, he put on a s-h-o-w and no one was complaining!!!! especially not kyle when stans shirt flew off and hit him in the face.
whEW!
....a lot of dreams abt that one, huh kyle?
( i do think that all night kyle is trying to be Responsible and is like
[ throwback pep chapter 2 to kyles stmwtp contact photo ]
i should take stan home he should not be drunk and doing hand(stan)ds breaking the keg stand record....but then stans shirt falls down, he gets football boy ab-ed and winked at so hes like...nevermind thats so crazy...he can have five more minutes this is my favorite show <3 salhds )
hooooowever! moving right along:
conversely, i do think ravenstan...can definitely Dance.
but. BUT!!!!!!!
i will say...he had to be TAUGHT!!!!!! PAINSTAKINGLY!!!!! HOW TO DANCE!!!!!! it was a Miserable process. it was so painful, oh my god. hes so awkward, god bless him. he was SOOO BAD. he was like guys i cannot do this???? i give up!!!!!! and kenny and the cd boys were like u can do this rae!!! this is ur Dream and he was like...sigh...SIGH.
and did...eventually get...honestly? kind of good? hello? excuse me???
RAVENSTAN???? HELLLLOOOOOO
okay also i do think he had a small boost like i do think that rm!sharon definitely had rhythm af and used to spin shelley and stan around the kitchen making dinner with the mexican radio station blaring. <333
( so hes got a lil bit of That going on...lets go half mexican ravenstan )
but also...if u want to be Absolutely Miserable...pre!raven!stan who was 11 was learning how to formally dance around that time because of the sadie hawkins dance, but more specifically...because of shelley's birthday...specifically...
her quinceanara.
which she never got to have...
...because she died three days before her birthday. :)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
fun!
stan still knows those moves by the way! he is haunted! Hi, PTSD!
aka Phantom There's Shelley Disorder!
but yes, raven learned how to dance because he had to learn how to dance, but that does not mean he likes doing it or that he is sober.
he also gets to coast mostly on sex appeal and being hot and looking into ur eyes, so like if he fucks up its kinda just like damn thats crazy i didnt see anything but ur very pretty eyes raven whatever u want, hansome!!!!! its a lot of powersliding and hip stuff...whew! lis...ten.
Aaaaaaaanyways!
tldr; just dance in front of every1? i think he would eat tbh its his job
BUT PRIVATELY? uhhhh...i think he would be nervous as fuck and on top of that i think jersey kyle would look at him once and he would fall in his ass and fall into something and break his arm its that unserious
so basically neither of my stans can dance, but both of them can dance way better drunk bc they are relaxed and raven was just forced at gunpoint to learn how to Move so he can...
and 2 well tbh. ;)
sahdkshdls
ALRIGHT I ADDED MY KYLE HEADCANNONS JUST FOR FUNSIES!
ok i went back and forth on this for a while.
i was like do i give kyle no rhytmn? can he dance?
my answer is that when both my kyles are dead sober theyre like so far infused into the wall that they are literally the structural integrity of the house party, like so far from the dance floor, judging literally everyone, sneering at everyone, disapproving glares...
and naturally this makes u thirsty because its hard work, u know, being a full time fucking HATER
gotta drink the haterade which, ofc, is a hard cider/seltzer for pep!kyle and is probably cheap grocery store wine for jersey
BUT WHEN HE HAS LIKE TWO OR THREE OF THOSE
ohhhhhh my god
drunk!kyle ;)))))))))))))))
DRUNK KYLE IS SO FUN!!!! HES FOR THE STREETS!!!!!!!
they gave him way too much ass and for no goddamn reason like hello???? HELLO???? like i think he does his little white mom dance moves his little taylor swift awkward bird boy sways HES VIBING!!! tbh i think hes kind of good??? like??? okay kyle???? lets go bitch!!!
ALSO IF MEGAN THEE MOTHERFUCKING STALLION COMES ON HE IS RAPPING AND THROWING SERIOUS ASSSSSSSSSSSSSS
like do not think i forgot that marjorine taught kyle how to twerk and that jerseys entire running playlist is just like Fuck Being Good Im A Bad Bitch!!!! like just iconic loud female rap for like 30 minutes skhdksskdhks IT GETS DIRTY FREAKY NAAAASTY IN THERE!!!
like stan and kyle in any ncuniverse dancing at the function is INSAAAAAAAAANE like it is an event!!! stan is like okayokayokaaay!
go white boy gooooooooo!!!!
hes really just in shock and awe, every time kyle gets loose enough to hit the dance floor its the best night of his lifeeeee i mean that omg
Heart Eyes Emoji! he is SIMPING!
( honestly i think if u specifically put raven and jersey on the dance floor turnt the fuck up it would go viral like sheeeeeeeeeeeeesh ohmygod...is it hot in here??? ravesey stan twitter Blowing Up! )
tbh my fav style at parties hc specifically like pepstyle when they start dating is that whereas stan would usually be like the last person to leave a party, when him and kyle start dating, they truly just get schwifty, makeout against the fridge and irish goodbye everyone like out of the blue, kyle is like i want to go home ;) and stan is like yEAH BYE EVERYONE SEE YOU LMAOOO KSHDLSD literally sprints out the door holding kyles hand!!! unserious!!! boys!!! down horrendous!
also to be fair jersey kyle is just such a tangle of long limbs but he took really strict and rigorous ballet courses so professionally and in refined settings he dances very beautifully...but at parties...when hes Blasted...its a mess, its so unhinged but hes REEEEALLY CUUUTE
one day i will put drunk!jersey and raven in a room and when that day comes u will all simply not be ready but im warning u anyways. <3
i did not answer your question very well, but i hope this was fun.
-uncle nina, who is...not even sure what i was trying to say?
p.s. wait i know he doesnt count technically but toolshed stan can do crazy acrobatics and shit so he can dance for Surely and would actually probably DESTROY! just dance but probably pretends to be really bad for his secret identity...human kite!kyle i want to say is an awkward alien king like learning english and strange earth customs was hard enough dancing is so weird he is not good at it...Inchresting
me in denial abt the grimy fucked up weirdly political dystopian in terms of mutants and public judgements and propaganda tfbw stan-kyle-kite-shed love square au rip oh my god dont let me do it guys
#help#i hope that made sense but im not totally sure#pep stan cannot dance he just stops giving a fuck when he drinks and gets sloppy but charismatic#raven can dance but he Had to learn & it was painful but now he can sexc lead singer boy dance rly well BUT ITS HIS JOB even if he hates it#both my kyles are stiff and awkward when not drunk and will not dance and will heckle you probably#kyles on like 2 or more drinks? they are taylor swift lanky white boy white mom dancing#throwing crazy obscene amounts of ass#its a show its quite a time to be alive i cant say if its graceful but its definetly filthy dirty nasty i luv u kyle#also fucked up! jersey kyle specifically gets really cute and red and giggly and really forward and touchy so...whew!#when that day comes...wow...what a day...praying 4 u ravenstan...good luck solider#i love pepstyle showing up to the function poaching the drinks and leaving to hook up#they are my heroes oh my god they are messy and i love them#to b fair i do think dating!ravesey would do the same shit smh#like if they are at an influencer event and jerseykyle is like im leaving or gives him The Look...its so over omg#someone asked me abt my style hcs im so excited#edit: also no1 let me do the weird intense scifi tfbw au im not supposed to omg#but like if i split them into heroes and villians due to public perception of physical mutations?#and beauty standards and xenophobia against specifically aliens in that universe and more exhausted college students#if u see that in the tags one day...its not me...shhhhh
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meowmix1100blr · 1 year
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Soo I started watching bed friend even tho I told myself I'd wait until it's finished but NAH 😂 and bro is this how friends with benefits act BECAUSE I DONT THINK SOOO acting like boyfriends since day one ohmygod and the way king looks at uea like he hung the stars and the moon in the night sky is insane like??? get yourself someone who looks at you like that cause holy shit
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avengerclasses · 11 months
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second guessing and over thinking who we could have summoned. 9 and a rider is among them so it cant be the whole cast from the first war? unless mandi is completely glitching out a la missingno? but extella never had extra classes so regular/fgo arts on the table so were not limited to extella/extra appearances only. very excited for the big reveal
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harrie-cc · 19 days
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Kichen 2Point0 - Part 2
The 43 piece second half of the KICHEN 2Point0 focuses on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.
Of course its also time for another trip down memory lane, to revisit the original Kichen & how it links back to this current iteration. All the items apart from the Wishboner chair have been completely new ideas and meshes, however we wanted to try and capture some of our favourite elements from the original and reimagine them in our current styles. Way back in 2019 Harrie wasn't yet experienced in making new meshes from scratch (Fun fact: The dining table included in the original Kichen was her first ever from scratch mesh!), so a lot of the clutter items were mesh edits of EA items. For our first few collaborations we would actually explore all of the EA items that we felt would fit into our theme, but with the Kichen 2Point0 we made all of the clutter items from scratch. It was so important for us to include new essential clutter pieces in this set as even to this day we will often gravitate towards those original clutter items when building & we still spot them in many of your builds too! (edited)
We have tried to cover all of the appliances you would need to bring this kitchen to life. Of course with new EA functional items being added with new pack releases we were also long overdue a small appliance refresh that we haven't had in any of our other set releases. Highlights include the functional kettle (requires For Rent EP) & the mixer (requires Home Chef Hustle SP), but of course we have also included decorative versions for those of you that don't have those packs.
Majority of the items are Base Game compatible with the exception of the Mixer & kettle as mentioned above and can be found by searching the B/B catalogue using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets they will also show up when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO
We really can't wait to see what you do with the new items and how you bring them all to life in your game. As always we would love you to tag us in your builds on social media.
Set items include:
High Oven
Low Oven (2 counter height options)
Low Gas Stove (2 counter height options)
Low Induction Stove (2 counter height options)
Induction Hob
Gas Hob
Dishwasher (2 counter height options)
Fridge
Coffee Machine
Kettle (functional & decorative)
Food Mixer (functional & decorative)
Mixer Bowls
Toaster
Pot & Pans
Large Plates
Small Plates
Bowls
Cups
Glasses
Pantry (open)
Pantry (closed)
Double Pantry
Available Now on Patreon Early Access
Public Release: 7th July
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thewinchestah · 3 months
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"Good things come for those who wait" - Alastor x reader fic
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Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, spanking,degradation kink, praise kink, Angst with a happy ending, fluff, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etc
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: there's no point guys. I can't stop talking.
A/N: WOAH!! Hello everyone!! What the fuck?? I wasn't expecting my "debut fic" to blow up like that! Thank you so so much to everyone who took the time to read it and leave a comment! I'm truly flattered by your praise. So, I hope this sequel to "PREY" does it justice! (but it can also be read as a standalone). Let me know if you guys like it, and if you have anymore ideas/suggestions! I'm tagging everyone who asked me to, so if you want to be tagged on my next fics let me know! Without further due, here comes that mostrosity of a fic! Hope you like it &lt;3! (UPDATE: PART 3 IS NOW UP!!)
Part I  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Taglist: @smallershorteranduncut @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir  @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby 
It all started, as many things do, with a joke and a simple misunderstanding. Dying and instantly going to hell is not easy. Being in hell and not understanding why the FUCK you are in hell is confusing, frustrating and sometimes drawright ridiculous. There’s no guidebook for the hellish afterlife, and more often than not you felt lost at sea, drowning. Until you found your questionable lifeline, the Radio Demon. 
Somehow said demon clocked really early on that you were completely infatuated with him, but too scared to act on it. And oh, how he gave you enough reason to be infatuated, enough reason to be scared. Luring you into the most delicious trap, Alastor had claimed you as his. His to breed during the height of his heat, his to care for, his to inflict the most heavenly torture. 
Being caught up in the middle of the living myth that was the Radio Demon was a dangerous thing, you had been warned over and over again. So of course that you had to almost fuck everything up in the silliest way possible.
The obnoxious TV set, also known as Vox, had just started another round of his futile attempts to win Alastor’s attention by airing the most absurd reality tv character assassination ever. You would put money on the fact that the obsessive flat screen was a deceased TLC producer. Usually, any of his pompous i-hate-alastor-so-so-much!!! fits would be met with enthusiasm around the Hotel. Everyone would cramp in front of the TV and make fun of the entire ordeal. Even Alastor would tag along and make a private edition of his radio show while he counter-narrated that nonsense. It became a fun bonding activity for everyone involved, it was a nice thing. But there’s a reason why you can’t have nice things.
Today the Hotel was mostly empty:, only you, Angel and a very on edge, sexually frustrated, irritated Alastor haunted its posh walls. Still, you and Angel carried on with the little tradition sitting side by side in front of the tv not knowing what to expect from today’s “My Strange Addiction - Alastor’s Version” episode. It was truly a laughable attempt of a character assassination, actors who could not act saying things like “Alastor isn’t even as bad as everyone says, his torture tactics are not that special either. My mom’s aunt was tortured by him and was going to work 10 hours later”, “i walked down the street today and alastor didn’t even try to kill me when he saw me crossing the street, he’s all talk” “i have video footage of the self-proclaimed cannibal eating a chocolate covered strawberry. He’s cannibalbaiting.”
“no self-respecting overlord would go out wearing those ridiculous out-of fashion clothes”. 
Angel was having the time of his life leading the daily Vox roast session, the spider was funny and you couldn’t hold the laughs. The camera cut to a close-up of Vox, babbling on about technology and the anti-Radio Demon speech you knew by heart at this point. As if on cue, Alastor entered the room. But the pair of you remained oblivious to his presence. 
“Toots, you totally should apply for this show! I mean it!. I’m sure Vox will buy literally anything you say. Anything! If you say Alastor likes to eat red nail polish cause it looks like blood he would believe it! You laughed at his words, what a ridiculous thing to say. You loved red nail polish, alastor drinking it because it looks like blood is absurd. “I mean, look at you!! Look at this face, these eyes!! This body!!!” Angel gave your thighs a playful slap. “If you say hell is actually cold using all that i would eat it right up. Vox will be too busy staring at your boobs to notice you dropping that even the oldest radio looks better than that fucking flat face”. The thought that you were the mind-numbing type of beautiful made you laugh. Sometimes you felt like your friends were being way too kind with the flattery about you. You were nothing special at all. It was nice of them to be kind to you, adapting to your new lifestyle was taking a visible tool, anyone could tell. Their efforts were honorable and sweet, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe what in your heart, you knew was a lie. A beautiful, comfortable lie, but still a lie. You weren’t much, you were just lucky. You started to laugh even harder, out of pure nervousness as your brain started to snowball into all the things you weren’t. 
“ Seriously Angel, you have the strangest ideas ever!” you tried to sound normal, putting up a confident facade. That helped, a lot. You had picked that up during your days with Alastor. 
Speaking of the devil, Alastor wasn’t amused by your little display. Standing on the corner of the room as you laughed, he made himself known by walking out of the room, in hurried steps. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t think much of it. But you weren’t anyone else. You were Alastor’s. 
And that’s why he was seething with rage. His rut always drove him, an already unpredictable man, to the brink of true, pure instinctual insanity. He had to grip his marvelous constructed self control painfully hard. Since your paths crossed, the most chaotic part of his existence seemed in control, your pretty little body always ready to take him, your eyes always holding his gaze in a maddening  comfortable way, the way you would push your limits just for him. 
Only for him.
And the worst part was your softness when it was all done. Alastor would fuck you rentless, for hours, making you take all the mess of his most animalistic desires without a second thought. Both of you would be spent, bathing in the afterglow, room smelling like sex, and you would ask him if he needed anything. Him, that just fucked you so hard so won’t walk straight for a week, that feasted on the blood of the love bites he inflicted, him that covered you in a painting of bruises. 
How could he not want to just lock you inside his lavish room and give you all the rings of hell? to carve his name deep into your soul? to dote on you? to make him the only thing on your mind as he makes you his time and time again in the most sinful ways?
It was simple really, why he was shaking with anger: how you, who was his, was even thinking of being in the same vicinity of that scum of creation?  LAUGHING AT THIS ABSURD CONCEPT. Vox thinking of you was already a crime punishable by painful death, but Vox looking at you was heresy, and the entirety of hell would pay for his transgressions. 
As Alastor stormed off towards the Hotel’s large room corridors, he took several calming breaths. Losing control like this wouldn’t do anyone any favors. In the troubled waters of his mind, Alastor could only think of 3 things: you, fucking you and murdering someone.
 So he didn’t even realize your hurried steps trying to catch up with his long strides.
“Hey sugartits! Don’t take too long doing whatever you need to do! there’s a woman going live after the break saying she saw Alastor eating an entire packet of PAPER TOWELS!!! HAHA! This shit is too good to be true!” you heard angel scream.
Adding insult to injury, nice.
Trying desperately to reach your demon lover gait, you could only think about how bad you had messed up. Alastor was your only true respite in hell. He was a blessing in a mist of the worst humankind could offer. He made you feel hope, more than making you feel alive, he made you feel glad you’re dead. The Radio Demon felt like coming home. You just wanted to make it up to him. You could not lose this, lose him. You were not sure you would survive it. And who knew where you went after dying in hell? 
It doesn’t matter where you go after hell, it doesn’t matter at all if Alastor is not there. Your brain added to your inner monologue. True.
“Alastor! Wait” you shouted. He stops dead on his feet.
Finally, those long long legs of his do not make chasing after your love any easier.
“Alastor, I'm so so sorry. Angel gets way out of line sometimes and I was nervous” he is perfectly still, ears pinned back, listening. But doesn’t say anything back.
“Al I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, at all. Look, let’s try to do something to make your day better. I know how hard this season is on you, I know you feel like you are losing contr-
Uh oh.
oh shit.
You used the two forbidden words together. The temperature in the room drops, Alastor snaps towards you. You feel something gripping your throat mercilessly, as you fall to the ground. Looking at the other end of the corridor Alastor has you on a leash of his magic. Eyes burning red, forehead marked “x” he grips your chains hard, pushing you towards him.
“That was a brilliant speech, little doe. Truly marvelous! I’m sure your television debut will be quite the show you were planning!”
His antlers were growing, his demon form showing itself as he becomes taller and taller over you. All bared teeth and flashing red eyes. This is what everyone warned you about. Don’t get in the Radio Demon’s way, he is dangerous and insane. You will regret it.
Hot. your brain thinks. He pulls your leash even tighter, and you feel wetness pooling on your core.
“Do you have any idea what I was about to do before I heard you so selflessly offer your services to that pathetic excuse of a demon?” Dragging you by the magic chains, his towering frame comes down to meet you at eye level. You can’t say anything back, your brain short circuits and goes AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
“You know better than leaving me waiting for an answer at this point, pet” He grips your face using his sharp claws,the pressure threatening to break skin. “But you seem so hellbent on being a bad girl today, I shouldn’t expect your usually good girl’s behavior, should I?”
You are, once again nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes
“One should always know better than expecting their fantasies to be true”
His sclera goes black, only the tiny blazing red radio dials devouring you as he stares so deep into you, you feel feverish. 
“But since we are already here. I. Will. Tell. You.” static picks up around the room and surrounds you both, the corridor is illuminated by an eerie green light. You start to kinda fear for your life, but Alastor has you completely hypnotized by the radio dials on his eyes. You shiver in anticipation. 
 “I was coming to ask you, to please, spare me a part of your day, away from you friends. Because the only thing on my mind has been you. Fucking you. Sinking my cock so deep into your tight, wet cunt it would mark your soul. Because you are the only one who can take me like this, who deserves being bred by me, who deserves every drop of my seed”
You feel the wetness on your panties grow until it runs down your thighs. There’s nothing right about this, but your dear Alastor showed you long ago how the concepts of right and wrong are meant to be skewed.
“But oh well, you seem to have your affections directed elsewhere…” he tsks at you using that delicious mocking tone. “But, you can’t blame a desperate man for trying” he goes from 100 to 0 really fast, his voice softens so much in a way that’s almost too heavy to hear after all that. Even with his demon form still very much present  “Do you still want to make my day better, pet?”
you are at a loss of words, but you manage to nod desperately. The anticipation of what he is going to do to you makes you giddy. 
He manhandles your leash until you are on your knees in front of him, tugging on the chains so you look up towards his crotch. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his cock out. Hard, angry hot red coloured. Angry because of you, angry for you. 
“Open wide, little one” and without much more warning, Alastor is fucking your face, hard and fast. 
You position your arms behind your back as quickly as you can.  You know how hard it is for him to be touched when his rut is peaking. The overwhelming need for relief mixing with his ever present desire for control. This is about him asserting his dominance over you, making sure you don’t ever forget where you belong: In the warmth of his burning gaze, under him, on your knees, while he merciless fucks your throat into compliance. He’s taking it out on you, and you fucking love it.
He’s not saying anything, only growling like he’s about to murder someone. He grabs fistfuls of your velvety hair, but never leaves the white knuckle grip on your chains. You can only resist the urge of playing with your pussy while he thrusts so deep you feel his monster cock. hitting the back of your throat. This is about him, and you want to give him this so badly your cunt is throbbing with desire
Tears wet your cheeks, your lips around his cock are the definition of renaissance art to Alastor. He’s almost over the edge now, the head of his cock twitches on top of your tongue as a warning of his approaching orgasm. It’s hard, it’s hot, it’s fast and it’s angry.
Alastor cums, you swallow as much as you can, but he takes his cock out and spills everywhere, coating your hair,  your face. It’s so deliciously erotic Alastor can’t resist catching some of his cum and running his hands throughout your velvet locks, bathing you in his essence, marking you once more. There’s still a bit of cum on the tip of his claw, he feeds it to you, and your lips wrap around his fingers as you take as much of him you can take, gladly. 
“Oh how beautiful you are when you ruin yourself like this for me, my little doe” You look up at him with adoration and a lustful gaze, his eyes hold an equally lustful gaze and… something more. Something that you are sure will drive you insane. 
Alastor notices the pooling mess underneath your tights, he knows how desperate you are for relief, but he still wants to self indulge on you. He’s certain you still don’t understand the reality of what he is feeling. Swiftly he topples you down the corridor’s carpet and places himself between your legs, his crawled finger tearing your lacy panties away. 
Then, he feasts on you like a starving man, and he might be, because you taste like the ambrosia of the gods and he can’t get enough of it. Of how you make a mess of yourself for him and there’s still something for him to take. You just taste so sweet, what a perfect meal your nectar makes. His wicked silver tongue polishes you, aided by your whispered sighs, his name moaned like a prayer on your lips. You are so so close, alastor sucks on your throbbing clit you are already seeing stars, all you need is a gentle push.
 Grinning like a devil, Alastor looks up, tilts his head, gives you the most wicked-and-douchey look in existence. He gets up, your leash dissipating into the air and walks away in perfect composure, like nothing happened. Nothing at all.
“Well, I think that’s my cue!!” he says in his usually chirpy tone. You just stay there, flabbergasted. “I just remembered I still have a lot to do today! Work never stops when you maintain a facility like this in tip-top condition!” Already halfway across the corridor, Alastor’s head turns towards you “Still want to make my day good my dear? Be a doll and clean this mess up, will you?” you just stare at him, too fucking stunned to speak. You can’t believe it. That fucking devil. He’s about to make the turn towards the elevator and disappear when his eyes flash red as he warns you “Oh! and don’t you dare make yourself cum without my permission. If you cum before I say so, you won’t be cumming for a week. Choose wisely!Let’s see who loses control first Ha Ha! This will be fun!”
 Alastor can be a psychopathic demon in heat, but before all that he still is a psychopathic demon who loves torture. 
And he just left you all hot and bothered. 
Alastor knew better than believing in such things as heaven or holiness. In fact, Alastor was positively sure nothing was sacred. The concept of sacredness was non-existent in his book.
But his skeptic mind danced on the edge of belief when he touched you. To be inside you felt heavenly, heavenly in a type of way that should not even be allowed in this place. The way your lush body burned underneath his wicked gaze was sacred.The way you always presented yourself to him, with selfless abandon was sacred. Somehow, someone allowed him, of all people, access to a soul he frankly didn’t understand what was doing in hell in the first place. He never was the better man. He was never giving that up.
In all of his nature, Alastor felt the most sinful pleasure in defiling your sacredness. He wanted nothing but to take the heavenly thing you were and taint it with his darkness. 
He was well acquainted to torture and had no shame in inflicting the most delicious and depraved type of it on you ,until all of your holiness was irrevocably marked by him, down to the core of your soul.  Of course Alastor didn’t buy your soul. He didn’t need to use those means to completely own you. He did it effortlessly, because you craved it. Because he craved it.
That’s why the thought of Vox even looking in your way was heretic, and not in a good way. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to Vox. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Period. You were his.
 But adding that man into the equation just made everything more intolerable. The things he would do if he found out about you… Found out that not only you were his but how you could make someone feel. How precious and undeserving of anything less than good you were… 
You were made to be cherished and protected. Protected by him.
 In fact, it took all of the Radio Demon’s willpower to restrain from walking to the Vees building, and kill Vox for something he didn’t do. Because Alastor wouldn’t allow the thought to even cross his mind. All that, a messy display of his desperation and loss of control. Giving that prick the smug satisfaction of knowing somehow he got to him, in his last moments. 
Damn, his rut truly did make him on edge.
Suppressing his murderous thoughts, Alastor focused his mind into something he as actually good at: torture. Yours specifically. He still wanted to punish you for making him feel like this. He still wanted to make you understand.
And he just thought of the sweetest way to do it.
-
After cleaning up the mess on the corridor, and yourself (you did it all on autopilot, still trying to understand what the FUCK happened) you still had to give Angel a satisfaction about why you didn’t come back. You must’ve looked really miserable cause Angel just hugged you really tight and ordered you to bed. When in reality all of your efforts were now focused on masking your humiliating arousal. So you find yourself lying in your bed, trying not to think anything Radio Demon related. You’re totally not thinking about the way he looked at you while he fucked you. The way his eyes would search yours in a crowded room, winking playfully at you. An inside joke. A promise.The way you both playfully banter at the dinner table over silly things. You are also totally not thinking about how he takes you, how you love to hear him saying “good girl” to you after you push your limits again, only for him. Not thinking at all about how his cock fills you so perfectly, you truly feel empty without it. Who’s thinking about what hides behind his eyes when he his voice goes all soft in the middle of a rough fucking? Ha ha!! Definitely not you. 
You punch yourself with your pillow. 
C’mon don’t think thoughts of Alastor now…
You are so fucked, and not in a sexy way. The worst part is that you want to endure it, you want to be good for him. Your pussy is aching to be touched, your mind begging you to have thoughts of Alastor while your pussy is being touched. But right now you would give everything in this world to hear him praise you again. You know how hard his rut is on him… He already carries a lot alone, the Hotel, the doomsday clock of extermination ticking closer and closer everyday. Plus the other things… You know there’s something more, something that haunts his nights, but it’s not your place to ask. Hell, you are too scared to ask. You just hope, you just pray that when it happens you are beside him. You don’t ever expect the Radio Demon to ever ask for help, or open up. Or seek comfort. Oh, he’s anything but comfortable. But you like to think that in time, he would feel comfortable enough around you he could let something slip, a tiny detail to add to your “The Mystery of the Radio Demon” clue board. Something that would let you show him he doesn’t need to pick himself apart, carry all these burdens alone.
Great, you are doing amazing at the “not thinking any Alastor thoughts” game. 
You hug your pillow closer and look across you window as you start saying out loud a list of things you need to do around the Hotel. Maybe this will take your mind off the devil.
Tend to the Venus Fly traps of the gardens. (You could ask Nifty for the bugs)
Write the thank you letters to the new guests that agreed to help with hotel chores.
Tell charlie about your book club idea using cool flashcards 
It’s your turn to organize “Theme nights”, maybe Alastor would enjoy a “great gatsby” theme, right?
Great, Alastor again. You sighed. 
Suddenly a red note written with perfect penmanship flies next to your spot on the bed.
“My darling doe, I’m waiting for you in my chambers.
Don’t take your time, we have much to discuss.-
Yours, Alastor.
You take your time, though, to thank anyone who’s listening as you sprint towards Alastor’s lavish room. You feel dizzy, anticipation like butterflies in your stomach. You don’t have to knock more than once for him to let you in. 
He’s on the edge of the bed, looking like his normal self (as normal as it gets for Alastor)
The taps the spot next to him on the the bed
“Come here, you darling thing!”
you don’t waste a second, and as quickly as you are sitting on his bed, you are sitting on lap. Holding you close, in a vice like grip with one of his arms, Alastor starts talking 
“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” you open your mouth to start talking, you have so much to say to him. That you were a good girl, that you were ready to do anything to make up for laughing at Angel’s stupid idea of seducing Vox. You are ready to beg for your release. to ask how his day was. But you don’t get to utter a word. 
Alastor quickly and swiftly maneuvers you: now your feet are dangling from the bed, your ass and  legs sprawled out across his lap. A powerful arm locking you to him by the small of your back.
Holy fuck.
“Well my day was downright awful! You see I overheard my pretty pet laughing at the prospect of seducing one of my most infuriating enemies. I’m in the peak of my unforgiving rut ,and all I wanted was the shared pleasure of our bodies as I fuck the darling thing senseless!” he pinches the back of your thigh, hard. You blur out a soft, desperate sigh. 
“Of course, the good girl she is, she went begging for my forgiveness. I didn’t fully give it, of course. That was a harsh offense, what my little doe did. But I did have my fill with her” You try to spea-
Alastor audibly shushes you.
“I did leave her all hot and bothered after spilling my cum all over her maddening little body, of course. I contenplated murdering the bastard demon so he wouldn’t get a chance of even knowing about her existence and what she does to me. But I still suffered with the hellish need of fucking her into oblivion, and pondered a lot about divine justice. So, if I had to suffer this entire day because of her offenses I think it’s only right for that darling doe to get her fill of suffering and punishment hmmmm?
 You try to look back to his face, but you feel the familiar sensation of magic wrapping around your throat. The leash, you are so so fucked. You couldn’t be happier about it.
He tugs at the chain, so your skirt rides up and your ass is totally bare for him and your head is buried in one of his fluffy pillows. With a snap of his fingers your panties disintegrate.
You shiver at the thought of what’s happening next, a delicious sensation that flows across your back and ends up inside your cunt, beginning to turn into a wet mess. He’s gonna spank you like the bad girl you were. He’s not going to be gentle about it either. You can’t wait. It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna sting, it will leave you bruised. It will be deliciously wicked, like all of Alastor’s punishments. 
You feel another surge of magic, behind the powerful green glow something materializes.
Your horsegirl days back on earth don’t let you down. You recognise it instantly. On his previous free hand he’s holding a riding crop. A big, leather pointed riding crop. 
He’s going to literally whip you into submission. You squirm inside his arm. You can’t fucking wait. You’ve made yourself come a few times after the thought of being literally tamed, broke by alastor. 
You whimper. Alastor’s laugh fills the room.
“So this is how this is going to go, pet. I’m going to whip you lovely ass like the ungrateful slut you are and you are going to thank me for it after every crack of the whip. I’m gonna do this as many times as I see fit. Until your ass is as red as my hair. Until you understand what you did. By the time I’m done you will be begging to be punished more. Are we clear?
You can’t look back at him, but you can feel how his red irises make your skin burn. You like to imagine that his eyes did the thing where they soften for a heartbeat, if you blink you miss it. Waiting for your permission, even now. You are able to muffle a “yes, oh please Alastor, yes”. 
“Lovely.” 
crack.
He didn’t even gave you time to process. The whip lands hard on the back of your left thigh. You let out a scream.
“Well?” he asks impatiently as he waits for your “thank you”. Seeing the way the spot where the whip landed turn a lovely shade of scarlet isn’t helping him hold his resolve either.
You wanna do this right, you need this as much as he needs it.
“thank-”
crack. the whip lands on your right thigh, a little lower.
“tha-” 
crack.crack.
 He whips you even harder, cutting the wind as it lands twice on your left buttcheek. Only four cracks down and you are a whimpering mess. You wiggle instinctively on his lap, seeking some friction, some relief. It hurts so bad, but it feels so good. You don’t know if you can take more. You want it anyway. “thank you, thank you” you whimper. Tears wet your face, arousal wets your core adding to the mess from before he even started.
crack. crack.
 He mirrors his movements to your right buttcheek. “thank yo- Holy fuck Alastor”
one more hit, now hitting both of your buttcheks. 
“I’ve told you many times before pet, there’s nothing holy about what I do to you. I’m gonna break you and then breed you. I won’t give you a moment of respite. And maybe by the end, when your legs are shaking from holding that orgasm you have been desperately chasing since this afternoon, I will be merciful and let you find your release. And we will know who’s really losing control here”
How can he do this to you with only his voice? You are not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You’re so wet, you’re staining Alastor’s pants. As close as you will get to marking him.
There’s a draft coming from the forest of his room, it softly kisses your abused skin, making it sting. You want to see the state of your lower body so badly. The way you’re submitting to him right now, the most sweet form degradation possible. Your eyes are clouded with tears, that line between pain and pleasure being blurred in ways only someone like the Radio Demon could cross. He tugs on your leash, to attract your attention from the sinful, unholy sensations you are feeling so openly, back to him.
Alastor drags the leather point of the whip across your throbbing cunt, collecting the obscene amount of wetness there. “By the 7 rings of hell, what do you have here? Are you such a slut that you are creaming at being whipped into compliance? I could do this all night long. Your ass is already red with regret for your actions but I’m not sure you learned your lesson yet.”
crack. The whip this time lands on your juicy cunt. Your hips trash with the sensation, your demon lover’s name escaping your lips like a prayer.You forget to thank him this time, despite your best efforts. 
“Are you so big of an ungrateful brat that you want this sinful punishment to continue? Not even bothering to thank me, in hopes it will end sooner. You know what you are. Nothing but a hungry greedy whore for the Radio Demon” 
crack, crack. One hit on each cheek. “But I already knew that” and with that mocking tone Alastor lands a  masterful final hit on both of your cheeks. He does have a way of proving his point.
You are fucking sobbing now. Tears coat your cheeks, now a colour so vibrant as the rich scarlet the covers your ass. Alastor knows everything that makes you tick. He knows how close you are to cumming. Cumming for only his masterfully inflicted punishment and his voice. Incoherent whimpers leave your lips “please please please” and soft “ohh and aaah, alastor”
He tugs on your leash again, he knows your body like the palm of his hand, and that you are probably entering the mind numbing phase of the pain and the pleasure. But he still wants your undivided attention. He has whipped you into submission, he still needs to fuck you into submission. 
“And you even made the mess of yourself stain my pants! My god, you are pathetic. Delightfully pathetic” 
Alastor gently runs his clawed hands across your ass, the sharp edges making you hiss. He looks in adoration at the masterpiece he inflicted on you. Your ass and thighs a shade of scarlet to rival his hair, the wetness between your thighs a heavenly invitation. Beautiful. Sinful.  Sacred. He will never forget this, and he will make sure that you never forget it too.
“Now, now, we are done with this my little doe” his voice goes extra soft because you can’t see him with your face buried in a soft pillow. “you were so good for me, you always are” 
The softness and sweetness of his praise makes you sob even harder. It’s maddening. 
He gently maneuvers you further into the bed, making space for himself. 
“But now I’m painfully hard, and I still need to bury myself inside that tight throbbing cunt of yours, so deep it will mark. your. soul.” static picks up around you, a delicious omen of what is about to happen. 
Alastor positions himself behind you, immediately entering you and bottoming out. 
His first thrusts are sharp and deep, as to make his promise of marking yourself from the inside real. He pulls your chains so your scarlet ass is presenting itself to him like the most sinful gift. 
Alastor picks up that breakneck pace of fucking, common to him, specially during his rut. He fucks you like he hates you. As hard as he possibly can, to make you know that you are his and his only. That even thinking of someone else, even as a joke, will not be tolerated. You wanted all of him didn’t you? You’ve made that clear, with words, with actions, with the things your body endures for him. So he makes sure to give you that. 
Moans drip from your lips in a crescendo, you are screaming now, you don’t know how long you will last. It feels so good. That delayed gratification drowning you in maddening pleasure. 
“Who do you think is losing control here?” he asks after a painfully sharp thrust. “Me, or the mess of a slut underneath me? That is screaming my name loud enough for the entire pride ring to know how she loves being fucked like a common whore for the Radio Demon,hmm?” 
One hand pulls your leash upwards, the other your hips. He’s even deeper now, you can feel him in your core.
You don’t reply to the question even though you want to, even though you know the answer. 
“Again, since you like being bred like that so much you are not hearing me” he takes all of his cock out and enters you at once. “Who’s losing control here? Me, or my little plaything with the scarlet ass from being whipped into compliance like the pretty little brat she is?” 
You don’t forget to answer him now, you need to cum, desperately. You withheld your building orgasm  for an entire day, you wanted to be good for Alastor. You wanted to be able to take everything he gives you. The pleasure, the pain, the sinful, delicious depraved torture. “Me, I am!” you scream out. 
Alastor’s pace is becoming erratic, you feel the shadows of his growing antlers cover you.
“Again” he tugs at your collars. Another sharp, deep thrust. 
“Me, i’m losing control” 
“And what are you?” his voice is filled with static now, he’s close too.
“Yours! I’m yours Alastor, yours to fuck, to break, to punish” you cry out in sweet pain and pleasure. 
Another tug, Another painfully sharp thrust 
“I’m only yours Alastor” you finish. 
“Good. girl.” he spaces the words out between thrusts, knowing how you relish in them. 
“You can come now” 
Your orgasm comes crashing down. You grip the sheets like a maniac, your legs shaking so hard Alastor needs to hold them in place. You scream so loud you are sure they can hear you in heaven. You hope they can, so they know. So they know this man owns you. So they know you love him. 
Alastor is not far behind, your cunt tightening around him like a vice. He fucks you specially hard and deep know, delayed gratification hitting all at once. He cums so hard inside you, he’s sure he finally marked your soul. The feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you, adding to the indescriptible sensation. You are completely over the edge now, you feel weightless, free falling. 
You know Alastor will catch you.
“Ah! There she is” you open your eyes and feel a soft kiss on your cheek. You are lying on top of Alastor’s chest, he cuddles you gently, making lazy circles on your hipbone but still buried to the hilt inside you. He still plans to give you all of his cum, all he has during his rut,after all. 
“woah, that was… amazing” you say after a while.
“Well, I did whip and fuck you to the brink of insanity my dear. And you came so beautifully for me, you passed out. You’re such a sight pet. I will never forget it.” you blush at his words. You feel so happy. 
Alastor kisses your cheek again, and with a final thrust he leaves you with a obscenely wet noise. You are dripping with his cum, it’s running down your thighs, staining the sheets. 
You whimper in complaint. 
“Ah ,don’t be like that” he laughs, is a genuinely happy laugh. “There’s still plenty of where that came from, but I need my darling doe to rest first” he says. He’s lying you gently on the bed as he gets up. “Don’t leave” you whisper. 
He’s out of the bed anyways, and seems to be on his way to do something. You don’t care, you want him back here, holding you. You don't want him to ever let you go.
“Al, i’m truly sorry about today. You know that, right?” You know that I love you, right?  You want to say, but you are scared that confession is a little much for today. You see where he’s headed now. He opens the bathroom door.
“Don’t even think about it, my dear. It’s all water under the bridge” he says in his usual chirpy tone, louder than the noise of the bath running. “Now you just need to promise me that you will never even let the thought of that pathetic demon cross your mind, my love”
my love.
“And if he ever does, you will let me know. So I can fuck those wretched ideas out of your mind” Alastor is walking back to the bed now. He picks you up bridal style and carries you across the room. You can’t help the hiss that escape your lips as your irritated skin touches him. “I know, I know my dear. We will fix that right up. I can’t have my favourite doe hurting. We still have a long way to go until the end of my rut, dearest” you don’t reply, you are just happy. perfectly happy. You could hear Alastor’s voice for days without complaining. “But you did look so perfect with that scarlet ass on my lap. Crying from how much you love what I do to you. I hope you never forget that” 
You both reach the bathtub, he drops you with all the care in the world inside the water.
“I’m so proud of you. I truly am” the water is warm. The soap smells so nice. He lit candles too. You give in to the soothing sensations. You might have tuned out for a bit, cause you hear alastor calling your name so softly… He says it again, slow, soft, gentle, pleading. As to catch your attention, he has something important to say. “You know how precious you are to me, don’t you my little doe?” “yes” you respond, trying to fight the tears that begin to spill down your face ‘
“Oh my darling girl, why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You are here, safe with me. As you will always be, as is your place.”
“Alastor I-I-” your heart swells, you want to say something. You want to say everything you are feeling. How consuming, in the best way possible, your feelings are for him.
But Alastor is always 10 steps ahead. 
“I know, I know darling” he kisses your hand “I feel it too.” he says. It feels like a confession, it sounds like a confession. The look on his eyes is the one of that mystery that hides there every time his voice in the midst of your passion. 
When you,know you know. your mind reiterates. 
“Let me help you dry those tears. Save them for another day” He holds your face and kiss your lips. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting and recovering that luscious body of yours, as well as your brilliant, witty mind”
He hands you a sparkly fancy pink soap, and gets up to find the softest sponge he has stored. 
“Now, I hope you like the smell of these candles, cause I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least the next four days!” 
Alastor continues to chat away sweet nothings as he helps you bathe. Maybe it will take a while for the Radio Demon to say those 4 words out loud. He has enough reason for that, inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his. His actions always speak louder than words, your relationship was proof of that. 
Until then, you will always have sacred moments in crowded rooms, you will always have jokes that only the both of you understand. He will always keep sweeping you off your feet in the most deliciously wicked ways possible. 
Right now, you have him by your side after everything that happened, you have his heart too. You are sure of that. So you don’t mind waiting for him.
Good things come for those who wait.
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I'm an A-Level student and so many of my classmates use ChatGPT for essays in Law and RS and stuff - like, they sound proud of themselves, as if they're cheating the system and being clever? Just makes me feel very bleak. What are we doing man
Well, the unfortunate news for them is that they are going to struggle if they make it to uni.
This is the big problem with AI - it cannot analyse a single thing. If I were to say to you "What are the features Tumblr users would most want and why?", you are a human being with a brain and experiences and decision-making skills, and you could probably sit and come up with an answer. You would base that answer on things you personally find lacking, or want to see; you would also base it in things you have seen others bemoaning on the site.
For example, I reckon I'd say something like:
The permanent ability to boop people with a cat paw, which is implemented as opt-in. Also customisable, so you can choose whether you want a random cat paw to appear on your screen each time it happens to you. Also a different animation for super boop/evil boop, and maybe more boop options than those two, and maybe also different paw colours.
Actual enforcement of hate speech rules. We all agree to them when we join, so it's perfectly legal to delete someone for spouting Nazi shit AND YET.
No more banning or censoring queer folks' accounts
More ability to adjust the interface for disabled bloggers, e.g. colour and contrast, font, layout, switching off moving GIFs or other animations by default, etc.
Tag editing, it's frustrating having to delete whole tags.
Tag memory! Where have my tags gone??? For a year now I have slightly better luck on desktop, but for the most part, which of my tags are remembered by autofill and which are never, ever offered to me has been wholly divorced from how often I've used them. And my tags are often lengthy and odd, so it's become much harder to use mobile.
No data scraping. This is the anti-cap site thank you. Also on that note, get rid of the For You section and any other algorithmic tracking, because it's just as likely to show you a Nazi blog as an anti-Nazi one as long as you have spent any time at all discussing Nazism.
Better blocking ability, on that note.
Better search function
I could go on, but you get the idea. That's analysis that I've done, based on discussions I have seen and taken part in, and my own experiences.
I just asked ChatGPT. Here's what it had to say:
"Tumblr users have diverse preferences, but there are several features that many users would likely appreciate: 1. Improved Content Discovery: Tumblr is known for its vast array of content, so improving content discovery mechanisms such as personalized recommendations, trending topics, and enhanced search functionality can help users find more of the content they enjoy. 2. Enhanced Customization Options: Tumblr users value the ability to customize their blogs extensively. Providing more themes, layout options, and customization tools can empower users to express themselves creatively and make their blogs unique. 3. Integration of Multimedia Formats: Tumblr is a platform where users share various types of multimedia content, including images, GIFs, videos, and audio. Enhancing support for different media formats, improving media upload and management features, and optimizing the viewing experience can enhance user engagement. 4. Improved Mobile Experience: Many Tumblr users access the platform via mobile devices. Therefore, optimizing the mobile app for better performance, usability, and feature parity with the desktop version can greatly enhance the user experience. 5. Community Engagement Features: Tumblr has a vibrant community, so features that facilitate interaction among users, such as improved messaging, reblogging, tagging, and commenting functionalities, can foster a sense of community and increase user engagement. 6. Content Moderation Tools: Given the diverse content on Tumblr, providing users with robust content moderation tools, including options for filtering, blocking, and reporting inappropriate content, can help ensure a safer and more enjoyable experience for all users. 7. Monetization Options for Creators: Many Tumblr users are content creators who would appreciate opportunities to monetize their content. Introducing features such as ad revenue sharing, subscription-based content, or integrated e-commerce capabilities can incentivize creators to produce high-quality content and invest more in their Tumblr presence. 8. Accessibility Features: Improving accessibility features such as alt text support for images, screen reader compatibility, and customizable text sizes and color schemes can make Tumblr more inclusive and accessible to users with disabilities. 9. Privacy and Security Enhancements: Enhancing privacy controls, data protection measures, and account security features can help users feel more confident and secure when using the platform, which is especially important given concerns about online privacy and security. 10. API and Third-Party Integration: Opening up Tumblr's API and allowing for easier integration with third-party services and apps can encourage innovation and development within the Tumblr ecosystem, providing users with more options and flexibility in how they use the platform. Overall, focusing on improving content discovery, customization options, community engagement, and user safety while also providing opportunities for creators to monetize their content can help Tumblr retain and attract users in a competitive social media landscape."
It's possible that feels alright, on first glance. But take a closer look.
Every point made is vague, and disconnected from any real life examples. In the very first point, it thinks we want better search functions (yes!) but also more algorithmic recommendations (no!). It wants us to have personalised recommendations AND better security, in fact, which are incompatible - but an LLM doesn't and can't know that. Monetisation of the platform is something that has historically faced appalling backlash from users, and this thing is suggesting ad revenue sharing and subscription services.
Because, its suggestions are generic suggestions. These are not Tumblr-specific. No mention of queerphobia, no mention of Nazis, and absolutely zero understanding of what the specific users on this site actually want.
... all of which is to say...
It's what is academically known as descriptive work. It lays out some facts, but there's no depth, no analysis, no interpretation of those facts at all. Why would we want third party integration? What apps are we calling for? Give examples. Would that aid ad-blocking? Search functions? In that case, wouldn't third-party integration be tackling the symptoms and not the cause? Shouldn't we work better ad-blocking and search functions into Tumblr at a base level?
And in school - even up to A Level - that's okay. You won't get top marks for that, because it's all too vague and too descriptive, but it's fine. School-level assignments tend to be more broad and less applied, too, which LLMs fare better with.
But in university, you start with descriptive facts, and then you are expected to analyse. If you cannot analyse, you run a very real risk of failing. Which means if you've spent your GCSEs and A Levels not bothering to learn those analytical skills and letting ChatGPT do the work for you, you are going to face an extremely uphill struggle when the expectations of study increase.
So, to round off, try not to get too discouraged. You know you aren't doing it, which means you are the one actually learning and developing and growing. Others will learn eventually, and probably more painfully. You do you!
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hellishjoel · 6 months
Text
scream queen
6.6k / pairing: ghostface!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: A stalker outside your window at night forces you to beg for your life in more ways than one. You do what it takes because you're a survivor. And you kind of like the mask on. A/N: please heed these warnings, as they can be triggering for some individuals. No one is forcing you to read this, and if it sounds unappealing, please keep scrolling. This is far different from what I usually post, but I’m feeling spooky and have rewatched the entire Scream franchise in 72 hours. Indented chat means ghostface’s voice changer is on. Thank you to Emmie @hyzer34 for the FREAKING AMAZING ghostface!joel edits! 
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), horror, dark ghostface!joel, dubious consent (dubcon via manipulation/guilt/survival), reader has a boyfriend (what a drag) so I guess cheating/infidelity, swearing, taunting/stalker behavior, masked anonymous individual, strip show to save a life, male masturbation, threat of violence/death, begging for life, manhandling, spanking, rough oral (face fucking)(m!receiving), pet names, praise kink, degradation kink, clit smacking (?), life-threatening knifeplay, unprotected sex (p in v), the mask stays on ladies, plot twist ending? very barely edited heads-up
You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh.  You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him.  “Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him.  “Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties.  “Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more.  The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame.  “I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.”
It was a quiet fall evening. You sat on your boyfriend’s couch, ankles crossed along the extent of the cushions as you leafed through what was available on different streaming services. You wanted something spooky for Halloween but not something that would over-excite your imagination while alone. You’re wearing the same thing he left you in, red panties and an oversized black tee you had snagged from his closet. 
You figure your boyfriend should be home soon, so you start a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You sit up on the counter and kick your feet gently against the cabinets as you watch the time tick down, listening to each pop as it slowly rattles up its pace. 
Your phone’s ring catches your attention back in the living room. You assume it’s your boyfriend as you hop off the counter and swipe it from the arm of the chair. 
Unknown Caller
With a roll of your eyes, your tongue rutting out against your cheek, you deny the call. Probably a wrong number or an asshole troll since Halloween was nearing. You’re about to turn back to the kitchen, hearing the popcorn bag rattling with intensity when your phone goes off again. 
Stopped in your tracks, you watch your phone buzz with uncertainty as the screen flashes with the Unknown Caller tag once more. 
All of a sudden, the air is tight in your lungs, and your body is riddled with goosebumps. Now you were annoyed. You slid across the call button and pushed the phone to your ear. 
“You have the wrong number. Stop fucking calling me.”  You jam the blaring red end call button before huffing and returning to your popcorn. 
The timer slowly counts down, but each pop from the bag makes you jump. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 
Your body jolts as you hear something pound against the windows, throwing yourself back against the counter with wide eyes. 
“What the fuck!” You gasp as you rotate your head, searching from open window to open window where the banging was coming from. But there was nothing. No one. Your heart rate is slowly increasing, you can feel it jumping in your wrist and your neck.
Your feet quickly skid across the room, locking the house’s back door before running back towards the front entrance, flicking the lock in place. Even if it was nothing, at least you were safe. 
Standing still in the entryway, you observed the home to be dead quiet. Your fears were still nesting on your shoulders, that you weren’t alone. 
Your phone rings again, causing you to jump from the silence you had grown used to. With a distasteful grimace, you glance around as you walk towards your phone. You accept the call with hesitancy.  
“Who is this?” You ask, already maneuvering around the house and shutting all the curtains and blinds in your wake. “Whoever the hell you are, just stop fucking calling me.”  You try not to let the panic that’s sitting in your throat be exposed over the phone. Whoever has called you hasn’t spoken yet. 
“Hello?” You ask, pausing in the kitchen as you finish your rounds around the first floor. 
“Now that is how you answer a phone call.” The voice isn’t familiar, it’s almost… animatronic? It didn’t sound like a person, but the languidness of their voice was all too human. It was low, primal. 
Now, you’ve seen these movies before, you weren’t an idiot, and you weren’t going to be one tonight. 
“What are you going to ask me? What’s my favorite scary movie?” You taunt, yanking the microwave door open and retrieving the piping hot bag of popcorn from inside, sucking in a harsh breath as your fingertips branded red from the heat. 
The voice on the line laughs. It’s almost sinister, not at all comforting. You’re not even sure why you’re entertaining this jackass who’s calling you when all they’ve done so far is giggle at your expense. 
“How did you even get this number, you fucking troll?” You probe, frowning as you squeeze your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you pry open the popcorn bag. Of course, it bursts, sending a few pieces scattered around the kitchen. You simply roll your eyes and sigh at the inconvenience. 
“Why don’t you be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?” 
You squat down to pick up the kernels you dropped, only realizing the extent of what the voice said a moment later. Your eyes widen, and your chest surges with panic. You look around, but all the windows are closed and covered. Was that just a lucky guess, or is someone watching you? 
Out of instinct, you reach for the knife block on the kitchen counter and yank out the biggest one. The blade gleams silver in the light, and you realize how exposed you are. 
You set down the knife on the counter and quickly move around the house, shutting off the lights and concealing you in a dim darkness. 
“What happened to the show? Why did the curtain close?” The low, sinister voice asks, and you whimper quietly in your hand to conceal your fear. “I liked watching you walk around,” he pauses, and all you can hear is your heart pounding, “in those red little panties.” 
You hate to admit that this flicks a nasty switch in you, chased and taunted, talked down to by an unknown figure. As much as you’re scared, a small churning begins low in your tummy, and you clench your thighs tighter together. 
With a shaky breath, you nibble on your lower lip and slowly move towards the front windows. You slowly peek them open, seeing nothing but your reflection and darkness. 
“Can you see me?” You ask nervously, licking at your lower lip. 
“Ahhh, there she is.” The voice praises, forcing you to swallow a lump down your throat. “Push those curtains open all the way. Want to see all of you.” You shiver, and the pooling in your panties only becomes more urgent. Someone’s watching you, and they like what they see. 
Following the anonymous caller’s instructions, you slowly push open the curtains, your body backlist by a dim light still on in the kitchen. The voice hums in appreciation. 
You blame it on your state of panic for not thinking clearly or logically for that manner. This creep wanted you, you could hear the slight desperation clinging to their voice. 
“Promise me you won’t fuckin’ harm me, and I-I’ll put on a show for you. Isn’t that what you want? You said you liked my panties.” You breathily point out, opting to put the phone on speakerphone and setting it down on the bench in front of the now curtain-drawn windows. 
The voice on the other line hums, pondering your offer. A shiver rolls over your spine as you subconsciously cross your arms in front of your body, scared and nerve-wracked. 
“You have a gorgeous body. Let me see it. All of it.” The voice echoes within the quiet home, and you blink back the fear that is resting heavily on your chest. You take in a shaky breath and do as you are told. 
Your hands go to the hem of your top, about to lazily toss it off when you are tsk tsk-ed at. You frown and quickly pull the t-shirt back down. 
“Not like that!” The voice barks, angry and condescending, making you whimper. The voice pauses and takes a breath. “Slower.” 
“Slower..” you whisper back, hearing the voice hum. You still couldn’t see outside, merely darkness and your reflection. You were fucking terrified, but if this was what they wanted, just maybe they’d let you be. 
You try again. Your hands slowly start at the sides of your neck, pretty and dainty fingers cascading down to your clavicle. You push one hand into the hair at the back of your neck, lightly ruffling the strands while the other skims lower to more dangerous territory. 
The heel of your palm skirts down the front of your shirt until your fingers flitter over the hem of your panties. 
It feels stupid what you’re doing, but it makes you feel alive. Your heart has never beat faster. You’ve never turned on a complete stranger, stalker, even. You were in control of the show here. 
You’re not exactly sure what to look at in the window, so you admire the reflection. You hum sweetly as you hook your thumbs into the tops of your panties. You loop them around, from front to back, stopping at the sides and lightly pushing down to show glimpses of your hips. 
The breathing on the other end shuffles. It almost makes you stop. 
“This turn you on?” You ask. “Does this make you have your hand around your cock?” You ask into the phone, smiling lightly as you turn around, lifting up the shirt from covering your ass, giving them a peek-a-boo of you from the back. 
The evil voice echoes a laugh. “How did you know?” 
Being correct makes you all the more turned on. “How could you not?” 
I mean, look at you. You looked gorgeous and confident, silhouetted by the light, awed by a strange man. You can hear them jerking it on the line, murmuring little grunts to try and not get ahead of themselves. The show had just begun. 
With your back turned to the window still, you cross your arms over your threshold, retrieve your shirt, and lift it up and off of you. Your hair cascades and dances around your back and shoulders. You felt bare, cold. Part of you wished they would come inside and warm you up. 
You peer over your shoulder, hearing the approving grunt on speakerphone. You bit on your thumbnail, looking through the glass with big doe eyes. 
“You’re not so innocent, pretty girl. Let me see you.” 
Now, with your body to show, you felt a bit more nervous. Your fingertips twitched, and you felt shaky on your legs. You did as the voice asked, turning to face the window. Your arms are crossed, covering your bare breasts meekly. 
That’s when you see him. A masked man standing a fair distance away out your window. It quickens your pulse and surges you with adrenaline. 
Yet you don’t run. You don’t hide. 
Your eyes flitter down to their hand shuffling up and down the extent of their cock. The sight alone, even in the dark, being able to see his impressive length was enough to make you let out a needy whimper.
“I-I don’t know about this,” you whimper, your head falling a bit shamefully. It’s like your head caught up with your foolish actions. 
“I’m warning you. Put down your fucking arms.” 
You let out a shaky breath and wince at the voice, tears simmering on your waterline. You put yourself in this position, you can’t believe you thought this would work. 
You slowly drop your hands to your sides, exposing your breasts. And how embarrassing they were, taut and at peaks. They were flush with color, begging for attention. You interlocked your fingers behind your back and chewed on your bottom lip, shyly looking down at the floor as you clamped your thighs tightly together. 
“You’re a real beautiful girl,” the voice grunted, flattering you with attention. “Why don’t you let me in.” 
The demand didn’t frighten you like maybe it should have. Frankly, you were turned on to the point where it nearly hurt. You didn’t know who this mystery person was or what their intentions were, but they were getting off to seeing you exposed, scared, and alone. 
“Come on,” the voice continues. You hear shuffling, and when you look up, the masked man outside your window is gone. You move closer and peer outside, but it’s quiet. Empty. 
“Let me take care of you, sweet girl.” 
Breaths fans out hastily from your nostrils, panicked as you looked around slowly from the front entrance to the back. 
The doorbell rings, and it makes you jump nonetheless. 
You bite down on your bottom lip as you retrieve your phone and slowly cross to the door in just your socks and underwear. Your forearm covers your breasts. Your hand rests on the handle, but you have a hard time willing yourself to open it. 
The doorbell rings again, another jump through your bones, but this time, it implores you to swing the door open. And there he was. 
He was tall, you had to crane your neck to look up. Your lips part, doe eyes taking in how close he is, stepping back in shock at his appearance. Broad shoulders cloaked by a black hooded robe. It was tattered, lined with rips and tears at the seams that draped from his arms. He also wore large, black, combat boots. The scariest thing of all was the mask. It was white with black eyes and a sloped open black mouth. 
Whoever was behind the mask was fit. Their toned body could be discovered even behind the robust black robe. He wore black gloves, too. You don’t realize that as you’re taking him in, the protective arm you had concealing your breasts has since lowered. 
“Scary night to be alone, isn’t it?” The voice is still animatronic as the masked man’s head tilts and observes you through the black cloth eye holes. 
You nod your head, its pace quick. 
“Invite me in. Don’t want you to catch a chill.” 
It was disturbing to admit how stupid you felt letting this freakshow stalker into your boyfriend’s home, but in a really weird and taboo way, you found the anonymity of the man attractive. You saw his cock while he stood outside, his large hand stroking over himself at the sight of your body. You figure he must have put the gloves back on once he wanted to come inside. 
As if he could read your mind, the masked man stepped inside with his tall stature looming over yours. He slowly plucked off one of his gloves, and you see his flesh. 
You watch him carefully as he brings his hand to cup your cheek. You flinch at first, but there is truly nothing to be frightened of. He strokes away a dry, panicked tear from earlier. You can’t help but let out a shaky, wavering whimper. He touches you with such delicacy but hides behind a mask that scares you to your core. 
“Just as I thought,” His animatronic voice echoed, his hand dropping to your hair that fell around your face and sweeping it behind your shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”
Your hair was no longer concealing your breasts. You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh. 
You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him. 
“Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him. 
“Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties. 
“Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more. 
The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame. 
“I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.” He aggressively cups your sex, feeling his fingers squish with the soaked material of your red panties. You whimper and clutch his arm, biting back whimpery moans that you’re so desperate to let out. You were secretly begging to be touched. Your thighs clamp around the man’s hand. 
He deviously chuckles. “This is all for me, sweet girl?” 
The man walks you backward until your back is flushed to the wall. You’re still holding his arm in place between your thighs. His fingers add pressure to your bundle of nerves. You lightly grind your hips down into his fingers and let out an embarrassed little moan. 
“Y-Yes.” Admitting in defeat made your stomach churn. “But I want to hear your voice.” You whisper, unsure if you can even make demands in your position right now. 
Ghostface sighs weakly but plucks something out from under his mask. It looks sort of like a smaller walkie-talkie. It was a voice changer. Your eyes flitter to the eyes of his mask. It was black, empty. Finally, you would hear his true voice, and you prayed it was as sexy as he looked. 
“Is this what you wanted to hear, darlin’?” 
You lightly gasp at the southern drawl, deep and guttural, musk-filled and leaving you in a tailspin. His voice was hot, causing a pool of your white-hot heat to leak once more into your panties. You finally nod to his question and let your hands skim across the man’s front. He was toned, like you imagined, with hardened plains and a toughened, thick torso under his black cloak. 
“You’re comin’ with me.” The voice growls. He leans down and scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you gasp and whimper, feeling him trail you up the stairs. His black combat boots echo loudly through the stairwell. He’s so strong. How he knows the layout of the house scares you and implores you. It’s like he knows you, and you may know him. 
He takes you to the master bedroom, the one you share with your boyfriend. Fuck, your boyfriend. A naughty sin to cheat, a naughty sin to like it. It’s hard to picture him right now with the man above you captivating your full attention. 
Your breasts jiggle when he throws you back onto the mattress. You scramble further up it, putting a safe distance between you and Ghostface. He grips you at your ankles and pulls you to him in an eager yank. A cry escapes your throat, but it’s just because you’re nervous. You saw how big he was in his hand outside, and now, soon, you’d hope he would be inside of you. 
“Please,” you whimper, and Ghostface tilts his head. “I-I..” you trail off and shake your head, embarrassment and shame pumping through your veins. 
“You, what? Spit it out, pretty girl.” The voice says as he slowly takes off the hooded robe. He wears black pants and a black t-shirt under it but keeps the mask on. You like the mask on. 
“I… I need you, Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. Since he pulled you by your ankles back to the edge of the bed, your centers lightly graze one another. You make it a point to grind your hips eagerly into his, smearing the front of his pants with your slick. 
The masked man hums in appreciation. You feel his hardened length concealed by his pants. Whimpers leave your mouth as you sit up and reach forward, unbuttoning the black pants with shaky hands. You unzip him and yank him free of his confines. You nearly freeze at his length, prominent veins lining up and down his cock from his pink tip to his swollen balls. 
“You wanna live tonight, baby girl?” The low southern voice asks. You quickly nod, big, desperate eyes wanting to fill his every carnal need. 
“Then get on your fucking knees, m’gonna fuck your throat.” 
He’s aggressive as he pulls you down onto the floor by your hair. You scream out of instinct, but the heat on your scalp brings needy relief. 
You quickly scramble properly to your knees and shuffle your hand over him. One hand isn’t enough, so you add your second. He’s so large and girthy. Fucking your mouth would hurt so good. You hope you’re a slobbering mess for him once he’s done with you. 
“Did I say your hands?” You frown and slowly stop, shaking your head. “I said your throat, want your fucking throat, you little slut.” 
You whimper and force yourself to put your hands behind your back, your breasts perking out more as you spit over him, watching it glide down his shaft and spill onto your shaking thighs. You lick your lips and wrap your mouth around his sensitive tip. 
The masked man seethes through his teeth. He takes off both gloves and knots his fingers into your hair. You’re intimidated by his size, anyone would be, so you try to relax your throat and let him sink further and further in. 
Your eyes go wide as he rams himself down your throat impatiently. Your hands instinctively fly up to his thighs, smacking at them and clutching desperately, trying to explain with a lack of words that you’re choking on him. You cry out, but his cock muffles you. 
“M’not a patient man, I’m warning you now.” 
You clench your teary eyes closed and sniffle, trying your best to swallow around him and breathe through your nose. Your black mascara tears turns him on, and he twitches in your mouth. 
With a shaky breath, you try again. You have to start slow at first, but you remember how impatient he is. You slick his cock with your spit, trying to work up his shaft inch by inch. 
“Open your mouth up, nice and wide for me.” The sight of his mask makes you twitch, but you do as he says and drop your jaw for him. You even go as far as to stick out your tongue for him. 
“Wow,” he admires, as both of his hands wind up into your hair and carve out sections of your hair to create ponytails in his fists. “Such a good girl f’me.” 
His praise makes you purr, bringing your hands up to your front as you massage over the squishy flesh of your tits. 
You let out a low mewl as he stuffs your mouth again, stuffing your face with his cock. It takes a few moments, but you gradually learn how to accommodate him. He hits the back of your throat repeatedly, and he likes it when you choke around him. You try to see him through your teary eyes, whimpering around his cock. 
The masked man’s grip on your hair tightens as he pulls you into his cock and holds you there, balls flushed to your mouth as they smack against your chin. He groans, long and low, holding you down as his cock suffocates your throat. You swallow around him, tasting drops of precum, whimpering around him as you struggle to breathe. Despite it causing you to choke even more around him, you stick out as much of your tongue as you can and teasingly lick at his balls. 
He sucks in harshly through his teeth and moans, gripping the ponytails even tighter, making your scalp sear in pain. But it was all worth it because he was so goddamn big in your throat. You hoped he would split your pussy. 
With a harsh yank, the masked man rips you from his cock. You instantly cough and gag, trying to swallow around the excessive puddles of saliva grouping in the back of your throat and now dripping out of your mouth. You looked like a disgusting mess.
You plant your hands on the floor and drop your head, looking like a dog as you shakily regain your breathing. You slowly look up, seeing his hardened cock slap up against his toned stomach, dripping with your slobber. 
You meekly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand up, your legs shaking beneath you. With as much courage as you can muster, you reach for Ghostface’s hand and slowly pull it to your center as you sit on the edge of the bed. 
“Please,” you beg in a meek whisper, swallowing the messy amount of existing saliva and precum down your throat as you blink through black, mucky, mascara tears. Your eyes flutter as his long, meaty fingers slowly circle around your clit through your panties. It’s jaw-dropping, stomach-fluttering madness. It’s like he knows you like the back of your hand. “Please, fuck me.” You whisper desperately, pulling him slowly towards the direction of the bed. Towards you. 
You don’t feel any more safe with him, but you like the excitement of feeling on the fence. Would he be rough or gentle with you? Call you his sweet girl or his little slut? The edging of unsureness and torrid manipulation has forced white hot heat to pool into your core, and you sure as hell spoiled these red panties enough. 
The masked man drops his gaze to your mound. His hands reach up to the sides of your hips. 
It’s slow and desperate at first, he almost fools you. Ghostface weakly chuckles before he begins to rip the measly material from your lower half. You yelp out as it causes your body to get tugged around. Your panties are now a mess of threads on the floor. You whimper desperately, clamping your thighs closed on instinct despite wanting the opposite. 
Ghostface grabs your ankles and forcibly parts your legs, turning his head slowly as he watches your glistening core. 
“Y-You could have a taste, y’know, if you take off the mask.” You offer, your heart pounding in your chest. You loosely hook your leg around his hip and pull him closer. Ghostface plants his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you as his heavy breath puffs through the mask. 
Ghostface pulls one hand away to his side and shucks something off his belt. You gasp and flinch your eyes closed as a large knife glimmers in the moon’s light. 
“You think I’m going to show you my face, you stupid bitch? Huh?” He taunts you, wielding the knife closer and closer to your throat as you cry out, but clamp your legs tighter around his waist and pull your centers together. You can feel his fat cock sliding up and down your exposed folds. You’re so needy, and it’s repulsive. 
He sickeningly laughs, jutting the tip of his knife against the underside of your chin. It hurts, it stings, and you hope it leaves a mark from him so you can look at it later when you replay this night in your mind. You hope he spares you so you can think endlessly about him. 
“I-I want you to keep the mask on.” You purr nervously, your hand drifting down your stomach towards your exposed mound. 
Ghostface chuckles, low and demonic. “You want me to fuck you with the mask on?”  He asks slowly, trilled with curiosity. 
It fills you with a pit of guilt and shame in your stomach. But you slowly nod. You were willing to risk everything, your boyfriend, your safety, your life, just to ensure this man filled you to the brim like you know he could. 
“Please do. Fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.” You beg. Though you can’t see, you imagine him smirking behind his mask, looking at you with a sense of intrigue and disgust. How could you be so twisted? 
“My pleasure.” He says goadingly, ripping the hold you had on the sheets and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You cry out as he forcibly spreads your legs with his body and slaps his cock against your aching center. You’re so sensitive from waiting, you needed to have him this very second. 
A smirk twitched on your lips, but you forced yourself to bite it down, shakily moaning as Ghostface tucks away his knife and wraps his large hand around his cock, lining up his tip to your dripping center. You flinch every time he purposely flicks your anxious bundle of nerves. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, your hand clutching his bicep greedily. “Please, need to feel you inside of me.” You whimper. 
Ghostface reaches up and smears his hand down your face, your cheeks smudged with your mucky tears as you whine like a little brat. For your insolence, he strikes you across the face before nastily grabbing you by your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. 
“Bein’ a real fuckin’ brat for a stranger’s dick, such a fucking hungry cock slut, aren’t you?” He degraded you to your very core, soiling his cock in your gushing slick. You were pretty sure that if he even just breathed over your mound, you would come. 
Ghostface enjoys your desperate whimpers for his dick. He’s more than happy to deliver. He angles his tip to your entrance and notches himself inside. Your gasp surges his adrenaline as he parts you egregiously. 
You hook your hands on the underside of your legs, keeping yourself wide and spread for the masked man above you. Inch by inch, you feel your head lose focus, your mind floating as you see stars that consume your vision. 
The moans you give him are heavenly, he thinks he’s never heard a more beautiful thing. He’s a sadist watching you take his cock, knowing it hurts, knowing you’re forcing yourself open for him, knowing how much you’re drunk off it. He just can’t help himself to wait. 
Air is knocked from your lungs when Ghostface decides he’s, again, not a patient man. He fucks the last few inches into you and hard, pushing you to your limits and filling you to the brim. 
Your head is thrown back as you scream in shock, never having been fucked by someone who feels so good. You sob as your walls flutter around him, attempting to accommodate the size in such a short amount of time.
“Yes! Jesus Christ- Fuck!” You moan out, to which Ghostface chuckles lowly. 
“Take me so well,” he’s trying to breathe through being squeezed so tightly by your walls, even he finds it difficult. “Such a pretty girl, just needs to be fucked to keep her- shit - her goddamn mouth shut.” The man growls behind the mask and starts to fuck you at an earth-shattering pace. 
You cry out in shock, gripping Ghostface at his biceps and whimpering at how strong he is. He pulls himself nearly all the way out of you before he flushes his hips right back to you, slapping your ass cheeks with his clothed thighs. That’s when he really begins to rail you. 
You see stars, still adjusting to his size, your slick pooling around him with excitement. You hazily smile, fucked dumb by a stranger, filled to the brim as you stare at the ceiling. Your visions jumps up and down as Ghostface pounds you senselessly. The bedframe rattles and the legs skirt against the hardwood floors. 
Impatient whines from you fill the room as he pulls himself from your pussy, moaning out for him needily. He manhandles you, grabbing your hips forcefully and flipping you over onto your stomach. 
“Ass up, let’s go.” He commands. 
You were still in a funk, head wiped empty of any palpable information. You whimpered as you tried to move but at the pace of a snail. 
His impatient hands grip you tightly at your hips, forcing a broken yelp from your throat as he pulls you up to bend over, shoving your face into the mattress and angling your ass up for him to use. 
“Yes, please use me,” you whimper desperately, reaching your hands back and parting your ass cheeks for him. “Finish inside me, use me as your cum dumpster.” Where was this language coming from?! This wasn’t you, you didn’t sound or look like you. He was turning you into someone new, someone satisfied by his anonymity. You’d never know who was fucking you senseless, and it might drive you mad until you find out, if you ever will, that is. 
Your thoughts are squashed from your mind as a harsh slap followed by a greedy grip is splayed across your ass. A yelp is pulled from your throat, instincts telling you to flinch away and protect yourself. 
“Ah-ah,” the man teases, his angry fingers creating bruises on your hips as he pulls you back to the edge of the bed to be his little sex servant. “Good girls take what they are given, so take it,” Ghostface says as he smacks your other cheek, reddening them both, jiggling the flesh much to his appeal. 
His large palms seared his prints into your ass, gripping your ass and pulling you to his cock. He lines himself up, and you take him again. 
You don’t understand unless it’s happening to you, how it feels like you’re floating in space, fucked numb but also feeling like you’re on pins and needles. It’s indescribable to enjoy being fucked by a stranger, but it’s happening, and it’s happening to you. 
He penetrates you, parting your walls, making himself a home inside you. You squeeze around him, and he moans. It satisfies you so intensely.   
“Beg for me,” he mutters through the mask, grunting with each thrust. He must be close.
“P-Please, keep fucking me so good, please Mr. Ghostface-”
“No!” He strikes your pretty ass again, hard, and your warm flesh singes with heat. You whimper, imagining how red, angry, and large his handprint looks stamped on your ass. 
“Want you to beg... for your life.” His voice had turned as cold as stone, ridged with a sadist tone that left goosebumps bubbling on the surface of your skin. A scared feeling sunk into the pit of your stomach. You swallowed a lump down your throat and shyly peeked around your shoulder to take him in. 
“P-Please… I want to live,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as Ghostface slowly picks back up the paces of his thrusts. He’s turned on by this. 
“Oh my- please, I know you d-don’t know me, but I’m good, l-look how good I’m being for you,” you begin to cry as he fucks you harder, your ass clapping aggressively against his thighs and the grip he has on your hips intensifies. 
He loves fucking you until you cry. Such a sadist. 
Ghostface gives a few last gut-twisting thrusts, and his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly. He’s so large you can feel him in your tummy. His hand reaches around your hip, and the other stays gripping your ass while he spanks your clit lightly with his fingers. 
“Fuck!” You cry out, beginning to throw your ass back into him, creating your own unique rhythm together. You’re so sensitive, and you’re coming before you can even fully register it. 
“Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. “I-I’m coming so fu-ucking hard,” you mewl for him, your thighs twitching along with your walls that squeeze around him, begging to milk him for his seed. 
Ghostface’s thick and angry cock twitches inside of you, desperate to fill your needy hole with his sperm. He grunts and pants into the mask, filling his own body with a heat that makes him sweat. He pounds himself into you until you’re flattened against the mattress, begging for release, begging to live. 
There’s something about your obedience that he gives into, his cock twitching deep inside the warm comfort of your walls and between your beautiful ass cheeks. He pulls out and pants, handling his cock as he paints your ass white. 
The warm droplets of come make you twitch, but it’s so hot to be painted white by the man who praised you and degraded you all night long. 
You’re a heap of nothing strewn about the mattress. You can’t seem to calm your shaky breath. You lay there limp, unable to move, unable to think. All you can think about is the man behind the mask and how irate and perverted he is. And how much you fell into his trap. 
Shame twisted your guts enough, forcing you to get up and turn around and face your stalker. But when you turned back, he was gone. How long were you not paying attention? 
You quickly retrieved your robe, forcing yourself to walk despite your legs feeling like liquid gelatin. Checking room to room, you survey your boyfriend's home and are left empty-handed. It’s like he was never here. 
From the top of the stairs, you hear the door open and close.
“Honey?” Your heart sinks, hearing your boyfriend kick off his shoes on the mat. 
Rushing down the stairs, you collapse into his arms and cry out of guilt. You tell him everything. Everything besides the show in front of the windows and getting fucked by Ghostface in his own bed. There’s more to leave out than to leave in, but the short story is that you were taunted over the phone by a masked man, scared to death, and begged for your life. 
His first reaction was to call the police, and despite how much you hesitated, you let him. Two nice offers responded to the call. They sat you two down separately and asked you what had happened. You were wrapped in a blanket and your robe, shaking in disappointment. 
It was scary, lying to the cops, withholding all of the truth. Making sure not to overshare any details. You also didn’t want to give away that you liked it. To the bone, you liked it. 
You were hunted like prey tonight, used, fucked hard until you couldn’t breathe. Left in the dark, feeling a little crazy if it even happened in the first place. But you could feel him still inside of you, stretched and still leaking between your thighs. You tugged your robe tighter, smiling weakly at the officer as he closed his notebook. 
“We’ll figure out what we can ma’am. For now, keep everything locked up. I wouldn’t leave the house alone.” You wipe away the mucky mascara on your cheeks and sigh, nodding as you walk with the officer to the door. 
His badge read J. Miller. He was older, stippled with grey hair within his dark curly locks. He had an aquiline nose and plumish-rose lips. His broad chest strikes something somewhat familiar to you. He glances behind you at the officer who is still asking your boyfriend a few questions. 
Officer Miller sighed, looking over the door frame curiously. 
“Said you locked the doors?”
You hesitate but nod compliantly. 
His pointer finger shapes over the lock, then the entry metal hinge. “No forced entry.” He notes, looking at you curiously. 
You evade his eye contact and conceal yourself tighter in your blanket and robe. “I.. I don’t know how he got in.” Your eyes find the floor, planting themselves there as you stare at Officer Miller’s familiar black police boots. 
He hums curiously, looking over you slowly. 
“You’re tellin’ me everythin’ that happen to you tonight?” 
Your doe eyes go wide, your head snapping up to Officer Miller’s. “I-I promise, please, Officer Miller-” 
He holds up a hand to cut you off, and you weakly stand there with your lips parted. Then he starts to nod and slowly smile. “That’s a good girl.” 
It strikes you like a bolt of lightning, fear and curiosity consume you. You hear footsteps behind you, the other officer, and your boyfriend, who collects his arm around your shoulders. 
Officer Miller watches you with a glint of intrigue but nothing more. His eyes shift to your boyfriend’s arm protectively wrapped around you. It makes him twitch up a stomach-twisting smile before he turns to his fellow officer. 
“Got everything you need?” Officer Miller asks, tucking his thumbs into the front of his belt while he observes the other officer’s notepad. The officer nods and places his small notebook and pen in his breast pocket. 
“Got everything we need. You two stay safe.” 
The other officer ducks out first and nods curtly, Officer J. Miller stands there a moment longer. 
“Happy Halloween.” He said with a sickening smile. “Be sure to lock the door behind me.” 
You gulp as you look over Officer Miller meekly before he disappears outside and into the night. Where he belonged.   
---
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ioniansunsets · 6 months
Note
with all this new HEARTSTEEL stuff; i urgently NEED a scenario where f!reader is in the studio helping Kayn write a song or even Kayn doing a verse for reader!
✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Writing Songs With/For You ✖
✖ Word Count: 564
✖ Tags: Established R/S
✖ A/N: I decided to make it a scenario of Kayn writing a solo song in his room with you instead of one with Heartsteel in the studio, I think it feels a little more personal? Cuter? I hope I didn't make him too OOC >< I kept in mind that he was Heartsteel's rapper and instrumentalist. EDIT: There is now a Part 2, Here EDIT2: The confession in reference is here.
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" Mmm...what rhymes with Love? Ugh, how does Aphelios do this!"
You couldn't help but laugh at your lover. He sits by his computer, face scrunched up in frustration. His hands tapping a steady rhythm on the desk, a tune playing in his head but no words to go with it. He spends a good few minutes whining and groaning as he types, deletes, pauses and does it all over again. Suddenly, he stops, turning to look at you.
" Babe come here I need you."
He turns to the you sitting on his bed. An arm out, inviting you close. As you walk over, he quickly pulls you in, dragging you onto his lap. His head leaning on your shoulder. Affectionately nuzzling his face into your neck, seemingly trying to shake away his writer's block. His hands leaving the keyboard to wrap around your waist. Slowly he relaxes. A soft tune? He's humming a song against your skin as his fingers play an imaginary instrument on your waist. As his feet tap out a beat he finally lets go of you. Words now coming to him in a perfect rhyme as he whispers his new song. A smile now on his face.
" Mmm~ I love you my muse, you're just so good for me you know that? The way holding you clears my head."
He laughs loudly, giving you a charming smile as he starts furiously typing on the computer. You giggle at his cute outburst, turning to look at the screen, slowly reading and digesting the words he typed. The scenario suspiciously reminiscent of your conversation with him when he first confessed to you. Wait, was this a love song about you? The feelings and emotions captured almost perfectly. Is that him writing about not being able to sleep the night before because he was so excited just to be in love with you? It almost feels like a sin reading the things he typed. It felt so deeply personal to him.
" Kayn? Is this about us?"
As you tease him, his face confirms it. His shit eating grin of pride from writing a good verse now turning into an awkward shocked look as a blush rises up his face. He has been caught in the act it seems. Forgetting that by having you on his lap means you have a very clear view of his screen.
" Ah! Get off me this is why I work alone!"
He tries to shake you off his legs, arms wrapping around you as he tries to lift you up. You let out a chuckle as you hold him tightly, refusing to let go. Reassuring him that you love it. He grumbles, your reassurance turning his embarrassment into a cheeky smile. Laughing, he effortlessly picks you up in a princess carry. Dropping you on the bed a few steps behind him. He climbs on top of you, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before lightly caressing your cheek and getting off.
" Now give me some space, a musical rockstar genius is at work! I'll show it to you when I think its good enough. Go go!"
He shoos you away, asking for privacy as he laughs and continues typing away. You can't help but smile as you see how happy he is now compared to his frustration from earlier. How lucky you were to have him.
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ecstasyhighway · 22 days
Text
You & I | E.Williams
chapter i
CW, ellie is a pervert here she watches the reader masturbate… there is smut towards the end guys (im not good at smut but i tried my best) masturbation (reader and ellie) , stalking, y/n is used
this might be straight cheese ngl…im not good at ts 😭 but enjoy ig
wc: 1.4k
read the prologue here ch 2
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“Hi! Hello”
A voice chimes from behind her, she turns around, and a lump forms in her throat.
it's…you.
Ellie quickly clears her throat and begins to talk, her eyes scanning your features. She is infatuated with you, you’re gorgeous, ethereal even…
“hi sorry how may I help you?”
“Yes, do you guys happen to have 21’s new album?”
you ask so sweetly, Ellie watches you speak, your oh-so-beautiful smile just making her want to fall to her knees. Ellie signals you to follow her, heading back to the rap section of the store, her eyes scan the shelves as she looks for the album, She reaches up and pulls out the ‘American Dream’ and hands it to you.
“This one?”
You smile and giggle a little, “Yes! this is exactly what I've been looking for… I couldn’t find it anywhere else I've looked all over thank you um…?” You trail off looking for a name tag, “..Ellie, thank you”
Ellie smiles, her face feeling warm, she knows she's red as fuck right now and her feeling embarrassed about it is just making her even more flustered “Y-yeah no problem, is that all? I can ring you up over here” She chuckles softly trying to cover the anxiety in her voice.
You and Ellie head towards the register, she rings you up and you hand her your card. Ellie examines your card trying to get your name, she needs to know, she knows nothing about you, just some things like you like 21 savage and Tyler. But that’s not nearly enough, she needs to know everything about you, things even you don’t know about yourself...
“y/n? That's a really pretty name” She smirks and takes a mental note of your first and last name, she will most definitely be looking you up later.
“oh thank you so much!” you say with joy in your voice, “I might come back another time, I uhh really like music and I really want to learn how to play an instrument so maybe I’ll see you again?” you ask so innocently, Ellie, on the other hand, was freaking out on the inside, she just thought you were so gorgeous and she needed to know more about you and she needed you to come back
“yeah, uhm I teach acoustic guitar, and piano so if you ever want lessons just show up, I'm here pretty much all the time, haha yeah this store is actually my life and-“ She cuts herself off realizing she's just rambling about nothing. “sorry yes you will definitely see me again” she is mentally cursing at herself for being such a nervous wreck in front of you.
“awesome, I’ll see you laters Ellie” and with that, you turn around and focus your attention on your phone, a message dings and you begin typing away. Ellie noticed this and is already feeling a certain way.. do you have a boyfriend? girlfriend? Are you single..? its okay she’ll figure all that out.
Once Ellie’s shift was over she went down to her music room. She sat there for a second and put on some jazz, she grabbed her laptop and began her long and tedious search, y/n l/n, she scrolled through the search page filled with many other y/n l/n’s. she stops. ‘bingo’ she thinks to herself, she found you ‘y/n.oncam’ on pretty much everything. Luckily all your accounts are public, unluckily she notices that you literally post your entire life on the internet, ‘do you know how many creeps are on the internet? oh once I have you to myself no one will be able to ever know anything personal about you’ she scoffs.
Here's what she knows, you’re 20, you’re single, you like to read, and you lovee music.. you live in an apartment with a big window.
Wait, she knows that complex, yeah she knows where that is, it's right across the street from the bookstore Dina works at. Shit Dina! Ellie forgot that she promised to bring Dina a limited edition 2Pac vinyl she had in storage. Ellie jumped up, grabbed her jacket, went to the storage to grab the record. She gets in her car and heads to Dina’s bookstore.
‘D are you still at work?’
‘yes’
‘I'm bringing the record rn’
*Dinabina like a message*
Ellie arrived at the bookstore, the words ‘Hidden Pages’ flickering softly as one of the letters had gone out. Ellie walks into the store and walks up to Dina, who is reading.
“D, I got the record”
“yayy thank you Ellie” Dina walks up to her smiling and gives her a hug “I’ll give it back as soon as I'm finished listening to it”
Ellie said her goodbyes and left the store.
She looks around trying to find the apartment, she found it. ‘Havenwood apartments’ She walks to the tall building and examines it and she spots the only big window, no curtains, lights on, and a woman's figure dancing around. She gets closer to the building, not too close but close enough to see into the window. Sure enough, it's you, dancing and singing, oblivious to the world around you, if you would just stop and look out of your window you would see Ellie, watching you closely, biting her lip and just enjoying the view of you.
You had gotten tired, turned off the music and began getting ready for bed. Oh, but that feeling between your legs was getting stronger, you tried to ignore it, you’ve been pent up and so busy lately, mostly because of work and shit. ‘Fuck’ you curse quietly to yourself and you head to your couch, you slip your hands down your pants and begin rubbing circles on your clit, dipping your fingers into your hole and gathering your juices to add more lubrication. Your eyes close and as you add pressure to your throbbing clit, you feel yourself bucking your hips for more friction. Fingers pumping in and out of your hole. Your other hand fondling your soft tits, adding more stimulation ‘mmph fuck’ The noises coming from your mouth are almost pornographic, your neighbors could probably hear you as the walls are thin. You feel yourself getting closer so you begin moving faster your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape “Mmpfh shit’m gonna cum fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” You get that feeling in your stomach and let yourself go, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, you continue rubbing your clit riding out your orgasm, legs shaking from the overstimulation. Once you’re done you sit up and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up and you go to your bed to watch a show, you feel so comfortable and safe in the warmth of your bed so, you drift off into a slumber…
Oh but little did you know. You weren’t alone. Ellie saw what you were doing, she saw your most intimate moment and you didn't even notice you were being watched. Like she thought you were oblivious to the world around you, a normal person would sense another watching them, but not you…or maybe you knew she was watching and you put on a show for her and only her. Ellie’s hand reaches to unbutton her jeans, reaches her hand into her underwear, and begins rubbing her clit to the thought of you, your body, your pussy just begging to be touched by her, your soft tits and your skin needing to be marked by her…she needs you so bad.. just as she’s about to come undone. an elderly opens the door behind her, luckily Ellie had her back turned so the lady didn’t see her pleasuring herself to you. Ellie saw that the lady had many bags and offered to help her.
“Can you call a cab for me dear, they all just speed right passed me?” the woman asked kindly, and Ellie did what she asked, grabbing the cab’s attention and opening the door for her, all with a smile and her juices dripping down her thighs. The cab leaves and Ellie walks to her car.. “why were you touching yourself out in public while watching an oblivious girl masturbate..you’re so fucking weird.. fuck Ellie what the fuck, you need to be more careful, that could’ve not gone in your favor…” she whispered to herself, her cheeks red from embarrassment. She gets in her car and heads to her apartment….
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idk what a tag list is but someone said “need to be in the taglist” and my gf said that means they wanna be tagged when the next part comes out so yeah
🏷️ @vqxen
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rivetingrosie4 · 25 days
Text
What a Life (Morgan & Family: A Fluff Dump, Pt. 2)
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credit to @foundynnel i believe for 2 of the edits above
𑁦𐂂𑁦
RDR2 | Arthur Morgan x Female Reader | Rating: General | tumblr masterlist | Ao3 | Part 1
Summary: Part of a modern au (and post gang) fluff dump work. Just a scene in which Arthur and reader enjoy secluded family life with their very young son. Arthur is a cute and loving dad and is adored by reader.
Tags: fluff without plot, family fluff, romantic fluff, domestic setting, parenthood
Word count: 2,660
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In the cool shadow of the cabin, thrown long by the late morning sun, you sit with your little son, watching him play in the sandbox. The mourning dove’s rounded, plaintive hoots are parried by the sharp, tinkling warbles of goldfinches in the nearby pine branches, and the fragrances of crisp mist and thick sod linger in the mountain air.
You watch the faint glimmer of day paint the crests of Gabriel’s cupid’s bow with light, his plump lips resting between his two rotund cheeks as he concentrates on the toys before him. The wispy feathers of his splayed lashes bow and rise with each blink. His beautiful, shimmering eyes inspect each toy, each color, each shape. Out of all the blocks, large puzzle pieces, rings, balls, and animal toys half-buried in the sand, he has landed on one. You watch the bulbous pads and segments of each tiny, clumsy finger curl to a strong, stable grasp around the edge of the object of his aim—a large block with an Appaloosa sketched and painted lovingly on the side.
“Just like your daddy,” you whisper to yourself.
Dipping your fingers into the sand and feeling its chill envelop your skin, you look up with a smile to gaze in the direction of the stables. In the distance, you catch sight of Arthur hauling a huge saddle and its accompanying tack, a moment before he disappears through the door and into the shaded interior.
You recall the quiet rustling of his rising this morning when he’d been up before the sun, as he often is. And the way he’d kept from waking the baby in his room, intentionally leaving you to reap the reward of your son’s customary gleeful smile, his bounce in his crib, and his lifting of his arms for you.
You turn back to your eleven-month-old with a burgeoning smirk. “Wanna come help Mama make some sourdough?”
“Yeah,” he immediately chirps, recognizing nothing but the lilt of a question in your voice. But he doesn’t look up at you, still captured by the blocks and puzzle pieces.
You stand and take a few steps away to prompt him. “Well let’s go!” you call.
He braces himself on the sand with his palms, a moment later lifting his tush into the air. When he straightens, his brows knot, and his lips dangle from between his cheeks as he gazes down confoundedly at the discomfort of sand stuck to his flesh.
You snort a laugh as you cover the sandbox behind him. “Just go like this, Gabe Baby.”
You show him your flattened hands and slowly brush them together.
His brows don’t budge as he looks back and forth from your hands to his own, unable to fully brush them.
“Like this,” you whisper, gently taking his wrists and swiftly brushing his palms back and forth over each other.
When the sand is removed, he toddles to follow you up towards the cabin, and you carry him when you reach the oak staircase to the back door.
As you turn onto the wraparound porch, you notice Arthur now hefting a huge bale of hay by its cords into the stable, his black leather hat shading most of his face in the distance. But you like to imagine he wears a subconscious smile, now enjoying a life of simplicity, filled with nature and horses and art and family and love, tucked away from the gnarled heartache that gang life had left in its wake.
“Sandy baby,” you mumble when you arrive inside and close the back door behind you.
You promptly remove both your shoes and strip Gabriel to his diaper, tossing his sandy clothes into the hamper.
“Are you dry?” you ask vainly as he starts to toddle away. “Wait, are you dry?” You deftly hook a finger down his back and into his diaper before he can fully get away.
Peering into his diaper, you find no present. You carefully squeeze his bottom to discover no liquid deposit.
When you release him, he immediately darts down the hall. You follow and walk into the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. When he does and you bend to pick him up, he whines to be allowed to remain standing on his own.
“Well how’re you gonna see from down there?” you lightly ask.
When he shakes his head, you half-frown. It was just a couple weeks ago that eleven-month-old Gabriel began walking. Since then, he’s always wriggling out of your arms and dashing across rooms, seemingly already excited to be as independent as he can be.
At first, it stung. With the love and special intimacy of mother and son—and with even the chemistry and well-being of your bodies both dependent on the other—the two of you had been closer than peas in a pod, glued at the hip for so long. It’s always been and still is a precious bond to you, though its daily aspects continue to gradually change. And it was hard to so suddenly feel a little unneeded. But Arthur has helped you find a comfort in the balance of realizing that your feelings are only natural, and that you’ve been raising a wonderful and healthy little boy, with this change as just another bit of proof.
As well as the fact that Gabriel still likes to cherry-pick when he’s carried and when he walks on his own. You suspect that like any human, his adamant desire for independence doesn’t do one thing to hinder his deep enjoyment and fierce need of being held.
So you turn and begin pulling ingredients and dishes from the cupboard, at last going to the fridge to retrieve your sourdough starter. You begin mixing ingredients in your big bowl atop the counter, when you hear a whimper and feel a few hard tugs at your palazzos. And you smirk.
You glance down to find him with arms outstretched and upheld for you, bouncing on his tiptoes with longing. You stoop and lift him to you, hugging him to your hip and pressing a few kisses soundly to his smooth cheek.
Describing each action aloud to him, you finish mixing, dust the countertop with copious amounts of flour, and turn the bowl with your free hand to dump the dough.
“Now we knead,” you almost sing, in hushed tones.
Perched on your hip, his plump little arm drapes with familiarity and utmost contentedness over the back of your shoulder. He watches your every gesture with a mixture of restful curiosity and heightened interest.
You push the dough away and pull it towards you again and again, tucking the edges underneath as you do, to form a smooth, rounded surface on top.
“You wanna feel it? You wanna knead?” you ask.
Leaning forward, you let him reach and press his tiny hand into the supple surface of the cool dough.
“Gentle,” you say, showing him the way you keep your fingers outstretched and softly brush and pat the surface of the dough with the pads of your fingertips. “No squeezing.”
The two of you watch his little fingers delve into the pliant mass of dough, leaving a mark of small craters. When they begin to slowly bounce back, you watch his face instead of the dough.
He releases a single cooed sigh of delight as he looks at you with a bright smile, which you heartily return.
How you love, you love, you love him.
You sprinkle the dough with flour and rest it in a basket for its turn to prove. After fetching a dough you’d left proving hours before, you carefully score it with one long slice for expansion, and several small strokes for a quaint wheat kernel design on the other side.
“Mama.” Gabriel pats your sternum and rests a couple fingers past his lips.
“You hungry?” you ask.
When he nods, you brush a hand down the slope of the back of his head and kiss his temple. You add as you set him to his feet, “Let me get this in the oven, then I’ll feed you.”
After setting the parchment-papered sourdough in its cast iron dutch oven and pouring a bain marie past the paper, you place the whole thing in the oven and set a timer. You glance at the oven window with a small smile, eager to see the crispy crust on your extra-sour boule. Since you first noticed its resemblance to Gabriel’s tummy, you’ve made a tradition of kissing the top of the boule, then indelicately turning Gabriel sideways in your arms and blowing a raspberry on his bare belly, making him cackle hysterically. These days, he’s even begun giggling when you turn him in your arms and before you ever kiss his belly, already tickled by the anticipation alone.
With Gabriel in tow, you walk to the couch in the living room. Gabriel rests both arms over the seat cushion and tries to lift one leg up over the edge, but you reach your hands under his arms and pull him into your lap.
Just before you unhook your bra from its strap to nurse, the two of you hear the back door open.
Gabriel’s eyes widen, and a grin begins to pull on the corners of his mouth. “Da,” he says.
He wiggles down off the couch, and as he toddles down the hall, you listen to his bare little feet patting quietly along the hardwood floor. You smile to yourself at the precious sound, so deeply dear to you.
As you hear Arthur’s rustling, jingling presence in the doorway and the naturally firm, heavy footfalls of his work boots, you imagine him resting his black hat on the wall as his small son comes around the corner in only his diaper, bared rounded belly and all.
When you hear the playful growl and the resultant squeal and cackle, your grin splits wider.
“You’re in your nethers, baby boah!”
You can detect the pinch of a smile in Arthur’s voice and the breath of laughter with the last couple words.
More little pads of bare feet as Gabriel comes running back around the corner and down the hall. He hesitates as he toddles, turning back to ensure Arthur’s tailing, eager to play this game with his father.
Still, when Arthur leans around the corner and pulls an exaggeratedly silly face with an outright grunt, Gabriel’s little body gives a tiny jump. His squeal and adorable laughter ring out into the air. He clumsily darts into the kitchen.
When his father follows with a few long strides and the sturdy clops of his boots, he brings with him the musty scents of alfalfa hay and tanned rawhide, of trail dust and undiluted sunshine. And the two subsequently begin an elaborate game of peek-a-boo, back and forth around the island. You can’t help but laugh along at the purest sound of undiluted joy—the beauty and innocence of your own child so easily tickled and contented by life and love—as you turn on the couch and watch the pair. No matter how many times Arthur jumps out to stop him with a silly face and a low hoot or growl, Gabriel instantly screams and squeals, his body utterly racked with tightly coiled cackles.
Arthur wheezes and snickers every time.
“Oh my God, listen to him!” you laugh.
It’s always another several seconds before Gabriel totally recovers and manages to catch his breath, his laughter smoothing with each heave of air.
With the next turn of their game, Arthur lingers behind the island when Gabriel rounds it, not jumping out even when his son takes reticent steps forward, looking for him. Arthur continues to linger, even quietly backing up to hide himself, watching his son for the right moment to strike.
Finally Arthur leaps out, and Gabriel jumps with the highest squeal and loudest cackles you’ve heard yet.
You and Arthur both burst with your own laughter at his reaction.
When your son’s breathing finally evens, you call, “Gabriel, I thought you were hungry?”
“Oh, were you about to eat, son?” Arthur asks in his deep timbre. “You hungry?”
Gabriel nods and pats a hand to his belly above the rim of his diaper.
“Well, better go see Mama,” Arthur quietly grunts as he picks his son up by the underarms and sets him on his hip out of habit. Arthur lifts him over the couch back and sets him down into your lap, then remains behind the couch himself, watching over your shoulder.
After cushioning your back and adjusting him in your arms, you reach beneath your tee, unhook the front of your bra, and gently bring Gabriel to your breast to nurse. He latches on immediately, very well accustomed to your routine. A certain profound peace washes over you as you watch him. His lips flange around you as he suckles; his quiet breaths through his nose briefly pause each time he swallows; and his plump little arm rests wistfully over your chest.
Many people may look away, abashed and discomfited, unable to fit something at once both so innocent and intimate into their world. But it’s always made perfect sense to you. And maybe motherhood was a dream too quaint, one not rebellious or modern enough, seemingly not daring or adventurous enough. But it was your dream.
When Gabriel spots Arthur’s face over your shoulder, he pulls away from your breast with a growingly wry grin, clearly expecting to continue the game from moments ago. Droplets of your milk spill between you and his mouth as he voices a syllable and lifts his arm, attempting to goad Arthur into another silly face.
Arthur silently complies with cross-eyes and a sideways tongue.
Gabriel promptly giggles, and the two of you smile and chuckle at the sound.
“Don’t while he’s nursing, he’ll choke,” you lightly say.
After softly cooing and corralling Gabriel back to his feeding, you continue watching him with a contented smile. You brush your hand down over the back of his head, into the growing downy hair that curls funnily at the base of his neck. As he closes his eyes, you brush the backs of your curled fingers down over his temple, and gently trail your fingertips across the velvet flower-petal skin of his plump baby cheek.
You hear the long, relaxed sound of Arthur’s husky breath over your shoulder, a sound you know very well, especially these days.
“What a life, huh?” he quietly says.
He means to facetiously point out Gabriel’s current lot—nursing at his mother’s breast with his father at the ready to make him smile and laugh. That is, a life full of love and joy, well taken care of, and absent of a care in the world. Just as he should be for now.
It doesn’t take you a few moments, and you’re turning to look into Arthur’s cerulean-sage eyes. A knowingness resides in your gaze. Because you yourself, as well as your husband, have been given all you’d so deeply and totally longed for—and longed, a word too weak—more than you could’ve ever imagined you’d actually live to get.
“Yeah,” you quietly, pensively respond. “What a life.”
The love of your life holds your gaze, and understands.
Your love and gratefulness are immeasurable and uncontainable, filling you and stretching past the bounds of your body and being, like fragmented granules of glittering dust floating from a burst star.
Strangely enough, even with all the joy and contentment and peace, the words and the shared gaze are not without a mingling of loss and ache.
They are not gone entirely. But you both have someone now, to join you in weathering them.
You are not alone.
Arthur leans to you, and you share a few kisses, soft as breath. You turn and close your eyes a moment as he rests his forehead to your temple. And you both gaze down at your son with contented smiles.
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xzhdjsj · 3 days
Text
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Sakuverse Characters Walking in on You Watching a ✨️Spicy Film✨️
Warning: NSFW!!!
Includes: Andrew, Isaac, Xanthus, Elias
Sooooo this is an idea I got from a recent ask I saw from @ilovegureshin (I hope you don't mind me tagging you). Since there's only 4 chars, I may do a pt. 2 in the future🦦
This is warm up for pt. 2 of that Zaros fic CUZ I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FULL SMUT BEFORE AND IDK WTF I'M DOING YALL
Anways as always, I hope you enjoy😌🫶
‼️ Repost cuz my dumbass deleted the original while editing🙄 We back to being hrny on main tho!
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Andrew
Andrew is late today, maybe it's traffic, maybe he's just working a bit overtime but in the end you were the one being subjected to torture.
It's been a rough day, and you couldn't wait to get home to him. A bad day is always mendable when your boyfriend knows how to make you feel good. But given he's not home before you today, your next best option was your own hands and something to get your imagination going.
You're sitting on your knees, legs spread apart just a bit and your headphones comfortably shielding you from the noises outside. Your laptop is placed infront of you, theres two character on the screen a blonde and a brunette with a similar body type as Andrew's. You don't reach for these kinds of vides often, more like you don't need to, but sometimes the wait is too much. As the couple in your screen get more and more handsy with each other, you can't help but imagine the way Andrew touches you, the way his hand would ghosts over your thighs, or just gently touch your sides all in his attempts to rile you up. You miss him so much right now but the show must go on.
Your hands move from caressing your skin, making its way between your legs, slowly palming yourself through your undergarments.
You lost track of time, forgetting that soon your boyfriend would be home. Though it was too late for that.
Andrew knew something was up when you didn't greet him at the door like you usually do, and when the calls for your name went unanswered. What he didn't expect was to be greeted by such a... surprise.
Your back is facing the door, and you couldn't hear him through your headphones. He takes a quick glimse at the screen and grins, making his way over to the bed. He, very casually, walked up behind you and turns your face to the side so he can kiss you. You're quickly knocked out of your daze and slam the laptop shut as you scramble at the sheets.
"Andrew!"
"No 'Welcome home' hugs for me today? Although I must say this might be a better welcome after a long day."
Isaac
Sometimes when Isaac works really late you "go to bed early because you're tired", he doesn't come out of his office for hours so you have adequate time to relief yourself without disturbing Isaac. Tonight in particular, you felt completely disoriented. You couldn't get any work done and it was hard to focus. So when you couldn't take it anymore, you faked a yawn and excused yourself for the night. Isaac promised he'd be in bed with you soon, but knowing him "soon" meant at least another hour or two.
So you take advantage of the time, setting up your laptop next to you, and stripping away your clothes. Even though the volume of the video was lowered, your voice was not. Not that Isaac can hear you all the way in his office anyways. Your laboured breaths and soft moans echo the room. You take your time to rid the stress from your body, and your once soft moans increasing in volume as you get closer and closer.
Only for your body to stiffen at the three curt knocks on the door. You close the laptop quickly and pull your blanket over your body. He opens the door slowly, moving just a single step inside.
"Sorry, I uhm... I heard you through the door and- and I was going to leave, I promise! But you sounded so... good."
He's looking down at the floor, a hand on the back of his neck as he explains himself. The way the fabric of his pants stretched to accommodate his erection was obvious and maybe you didn't need your laptop anymore for tonight.
You drop the blanket from your body, crawling to the edge of the bed.
"Come here with me Isaac."
Xanthus
It was no accident. Not when you knew he could hear the video playing in your screen and the way your heart rate quickens.
You're spread out on your and Xanthus' bed, with a random video playing in the background. You didn't really care for the video, it was just there to hold your plan together and make your actions as obvious as you can. It was all just a ploy to get his attention. You knew that he knew that too, and at some point he'd give in and come find you.
You started off discreet, faintly running your hands up and down your body. It got your blood pumping as your heart rate increased, but when that didn't draw him to you, caution was thrown right out the window and you fully indulged yourself in what you could be feeling. Your voice bounced off the walls and he could definitely hear you loud and clear now. Your eyes are squeezed shut, one hand supporting your weight behind your back, the other between your legs.
Your eyes flicker open at the sound of your laptop being slammed shut.
Your pulled at the blanket, barely covering your body at all as you feigned shame.
"Xanthus, I didn't hear you come in."
"Yeah I'm sure the door being open was also part of your plan wasn't it?" He's standing at the end of the bed, eyes completely shadowed over with lust.
"I don't know what you mean." You lie.
"Don't play dumb with me, you love testing my patience don't you?"
"Perhaps"
"Brazen, but you might just regret starting this."
He crawls onto the bed towards you, clawing at the bottom of the blanket ripping it from your grasp and exposing your body.
Elias
There isn't much to do in the safe house, especially when you're alone. Being with Elias all the time is great and you love it, but having some time apart to be by yourselves was also nice. What you planned to do with your time today was one you definitely wanted to be alone for.
You lifted your laptop from the nightstand, placing it infront of you and scrolling to find the videos you favourited. There was a select few that you enjoyed, especially because you could imagine yourself in those scenarios, only now you could also picture someone as the other person in the videos.
Elias was all the way in his room, probably playing games or sleeping, whatever it was you hope it kept him in there for as long as possible. Once you're all prepared, you set the laptop down and kicked off your pants, leaving only your shirt and underwear on. Your eyes are set on the screen, watching and replicating the way the character's hand moved on the other. Your shirt is hiked all the way up, caught between your teeth so you hands could freely access your chest. All you could think of is Elias and if he'd also touch you this way. Surely if you asked, he wouldn't say no to you right?
Your other hand reaches down to the fabrics hugging your pelvis, fingers slipping inside to touch yourself.
But you're pulled to reality when the door knob creaks and Elias comes into view.
"Hey babe, do you wanna- Shit!"
You immediately tug your shirt down and make a high pitched sound and Elias quickly rushes right back out the door.
"I'm sorry!" He yells from outside. "I didn't know and your door was unlocked- Jeez I really am sorry!"
You body drops onto the bed, silently cursing yourself for not locking the door.
"It's okay." You tell him. "Did you need something?"
He's quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"Can I come back inside?"
You swallow hard at his request, pulling your blanket over your lower body.
"Yeah, sure"
The door slowly opens and Elias steps inside.
"Sorry, you look really fucking hot right now and I can't get it out of my head." He confesses and you're dumbstruck.
"Elias I uhm-"
"If this is too much for you, tell me to leave now, else I don't plan to." He cuts you off.
"Don't. I don't want you to leave"
"Good."
Before you knew it, his shirt is on the foor and your arms are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you.
"Were you thinking of me?" He asks.
"....yeah"
-
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hauntedrain · 3 months
Text
part 5: For Our Own Sanity | Alex Turner x Fem! Reader |
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Social media AU Summary: Alex and readers relationship turns public after a series of events
✰▹Warnings/Notices: Age gap, highly unrealistic album set up. Not edited. last part!
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liked by TaylorSwift, AlexTurner, & 40,456,465 others
@Y/N: Look what you made me do! Reputation out now on all platforms, love you guys <3
user1: I CLAIM CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT RN.
user2: okay lovely album. BUT 2ND SLIDE. EXPLAIN.
↪ user3: Alex. Alex. Alex.
↪ user4: He's laterally dating the girl he posted on his story, not Y/N.
AlexTurner: Amazing album x
Liked by Y/N
↪ user5: FATHER COMMENTED
user7: parents.
user8: Is this the end of all the endings? / My broken bones are mending / with all these nights we're spending. OH IM SCREAMING.
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liked by 4,234,564 others
@Y/Nupdates: Y/N tonight on Jimmy Fallon - The tonight Show! Y/N during her time on the show talks about her leaving and writing about the album + her writing songs with and for the Arctic Monkeys.
user9: SHES SO PRETTY omfg.
user10: Okay but her shading milo and his gf over their FAKE comments and story is amazing.
↪ user11: Their interview and everything they posted about it has been deleted.
↪ user12: Karma works hard but Y/N works harder!
User13: okay everything aside who is the love songs about.
↪ user14: EXACTLY! If its not Alex shes dating then WHO! cuz most of the songs are simply someone loving her DISPITE her bad reputation.
Alex turner has posted to their story!
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captioned: Ready for it...?
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liked by 42,246,345 others
@Y/N: I tired black hair for a bit but the blonde looks a bit more delicate, isn't it? Also peep the MV
user15: THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE OMG.
user16: Seeing you with black hair kinda scares me
user17: Delicate music video?
↪ user18: Nah its defo TIWWCHNT.
↪ user19: I vote LWYMMD.
user20: WAIT.
↪ user21: BLACK HAIR. STORY. ALEX TURNER. Y/N?
↪user22: OMFG IT COULD HAVE BEEN Y/N.
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liked by 12,345,678 others
@Alexturnerupdates: The Arctic Monkeys perform their last show in the US with Y/N L/N! This is her first appearance in the tour so far, and her first appearance on stage since her last album's tour over 2 years ago. she also sung a few songs from her new album "Reputation".
User23: The way I fucking SCREAMED.
user24: Can we talk about when Alex was singing "I wanna be yours" AND HE WAS STARRING AT Y/N?
↪ user25: OR WHEN SHE SUNG "SLUT" AND "KING OF MY HEART" AND SHE STARRED AT HIM.
↪ user26: for our own sanity, please we need confirmation rn or else!
user27: I appreciate the fact that the best quality pic is of Y/N.
user28: Alex the flower princess ong.
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tagged: @Alexturner
liked by 50,345,345 others
@Y/N: All eyes on you, my magician. All eyes on us.
user29: FINALLY. WAR. IS. OVER.
user30: ALL THE SONGS ARE SUDDENLY WRITTEN ABOUT ALEX HUH?
user31: Both are glowing.
AlexTurner: ~ you make everyone disappear.
↪ user32: THE LYRICS AWWW
↪ user33: honestly even with all the signs, I'm still surprised.
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liked by 13,356,128
@Alexturner: king of your heart yea?
user34: I CANT.
user35: my roman empire. MINE.
user36: PLZ Y/N STANDING THERE. LMFAO.
Y/N: the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury.
↪ user37: crying.
user38: If you look closely you can see my sitting in the middle of a highway.
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ taglist: @mathdebate00 @ouroboros311 @joannfabrics @tangointhequango
⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: This is the end! Loved making this and thought about making it longer, however I didnt wanna drag on the story. But Im open for requests and ideas for fics. Love you guys and I hope you liked it.
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doromoni · 9 months
Text
Hunting Affections
Charles Leclerc x photographer! reader
Max Verstappen x photographer! reader
Part 4.
fantic + smau fic
y/n faceclaim : Hwang Eunbi
warning : nothing~ it’s just fluff for now :)) and a teensy weensy bit of silly season
A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍
<previous next>
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Summary; Love is but a concept — just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?
or
Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.
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What is the age when we started to care less about our date of birth? When our birthday starts to feel mundane , just another day in this life on earth . To begin with, I never did make a fuss about my birthdays. The greetings of my most loved people were enough for my happiness. I never have wanted celebrations , parties, or gifts.
That was until they threw me the most meaningful birthday, I could ever hope for. There stood Max , Lando, and Daniel with the biggest of grins holding what seems to be an attempt of a birthday cake as they sang to me happy birthday — and then came their present. In the box , 4 smiling faces stared back at me, their facing were shining with unadulterated joy and peace — it reflected true happiness… it was a framed picture of us , in the McDonald’s parking lot, the day when we all first met.
I never in my life would have guessed that the three strangers who met me at my worst would still be around and care enough to celebrate my life. I could never be grateful enough for the light that these three people had shone upon me and guided me to the end of the dark tunnel.
Oh how time quickly goes by , because another year is added to my life . It’s my birthday and now I’ve learned to celebrate it with the people who love me back.
maxverstappen1
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Liked by y/n_stills. , danielricciardo, landonorris and 3,627,728 others
maxverstappen1 Happiest Birthday to you, my Liebling 💙 Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life. Nothing in this world is enough to show how much I love and adore you, If i could gift you the universe, I would. I love you endlessly, Y/N L/N.
tagged @y/n_stills.
y/n_stills. I cannot put into words how much I treasure you Max Emilian Verstappen. You’ve been the person to love me , when I cannot love myself. You’ve given my life the color it lost and I am forever grateful for you, my love . I would never be able to repay what you’ve done for me. I love you so so much! @maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1 you being with me is enough payment , Liebling.
landonorris So the Porsche was for y/n’s birthday?
maxverstappen1 yes , she was more excited for the cake tho.
y/n_stills. What? It was good cake ~ 10/10. Yummy .
danielricciardo We spent a whole week trying to find the perfect car — because someone was psychoanalyzing everything and you liked the cake better. welp we did give you a photo of us for your last birthday and you cried so…
landonorris that we did . the number of white shades still gives me trauma, how can there be so much?! Its white!
y/n_stills. Sheesh calm down~ i still loved the Porsche , imagine how many chicks I’ll pick up with this baddie.
maxverstappen1 excuse me?
y/n_stills. I ment to say , thank you and I love you 😘
user1 honestly, these 2 🥺 my standards just skyrocketed.
user2 I want what they have :((
user3 Forget Romeo and Juliet , I want Max and Y/N.
user4 Max is so whipped for Y/N .He’s so soft for her I couldn’t process it hsksgwjsg.
user5 Ikr?? I didn’t expect Max to be so bby. I love it!
user6 huhuhu when is it my turn?
user7 ayo?? Why isn’t anyone talking about how Max just bought Y/N a freaking Porsche for her birthday??? Hello?
user8 They are so rich, it hurts
user9 y/n is not gonna escape the gold digger accusations at this point 🥹.
user8 sometimes I forget that they are literal millionaires
user10 Before anyone calls y/n a gold digger , please know that she herself is healthy and wealthy. Thank you.
user11 yuh, do your research before you comment y’all ~ y/n is a boss bitch who earns her own dough
y/n_stills. 1h
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viewed by landonorris , oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 696,916 others
story replies :
landonorris u just jelly cause am getting more attention than u 👁️👅👁️
y/n_stills. Sure ~ what ever you say , kinder. Just make sure not to neglect your other boyfriend.
landonorris Hey! Unfair… I can’t be mean to you. It’s your birthday 😡
y/n_stills. 👁️👅👁️
oscarpiastri Welp at least , max’s boyfriend 2 and lando’s boyfriend 2 aren’t there yet.
y/n_stills. OSCAR HAHAHAHA , I’m screen shooting this for future use. But yeah~ Daniel and Carlos aren’t here yet.
oscarpiastri oh noo blackmail material~
y/n_stills. Worry not , little papaya ! I wont tell them it’s you~ you can count on me. Are you on your way ? You are coming right? are you driving?? Don’t text and drive oh my gosh.
oscarpiastri Yes, im on my way . No, I’m not driving . Calm down Mom. we’re almost near! Oh Happy Birthday, talk when we’re there .byeee!
charles_leclerc Oh, you’re with them again… Are you going somewhere?
y/n_stills.
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Liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo, and 1,728, 027 others
The past year might have been rough, but now I’ve never been happier— and it’s all thanks to the people who held me dear in their hearts. Most importantly to the three strangers who pulled me in their circle of chaos, thank you for making me feel loved and accepted then , and more so now. I Love you guys.
Thank you everyone for your heartfelt greetings and thank you for celebrating my birthday with me ! A birthday well spent indeed!
P.S don’t blame us if you’re hangover for tomorrow’s GP… we did try to stop you. 🤭
maxverstappen1 I never knew that helping the sad pretty lady at the grid party would lead us to what we have now. Happiest birthday Liebling 💙
y/n_stills. you’ve done enough! Don’t make me love you more , Max Verstappen >:((
danielricciardo Happiest Birthday again, kid! I’ll always be here for you when you need me ~ you know the drill.
y/n_stills. thanks danny 🥺 Thank you for being the big brother I needed.
landonorris Happy Birthday (nickname)! I’m glad that I approached you then because you also had changed our lives for the better. For more years to come!
y/n_stills. Aww, Lando! Your gonna make me cry even more >:(( , but thank you 🤍
lewishamilton Happiest Birthday Kiddo! you deserve only the best. More happy years to come, dear.
y/n_stills. Thank you Lew! you didn’t have to fly just for my birthday , but you did huhu thank you! I loved the gift btw please say thank you to the nephews for me — their artworks were so lovely 🤍
oscarpiastri Happy Birthday Y/N! you truly only deserve the best. Thank you for sharing your kindness to everyone. You were one of the people who made me feel that I belong in this sport when I first started and thank you for your continuous support and presence. Thank you for being my grid mom🧡
y/n_stills. Little papaya 🥺 Thank you so much for saying that, you truly have melted my heart. I’m officially adopting you >:((
Liked by oscarpiastri
y/n_stills. @maxverstappen1 we have a son now.
Liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri
landonorris @oscarpiastri stop stealing my friend >:(
oscarpiastri how about no @landonorris :))
y/n_stills. Ugh my son is already bullying lando , im so proud 😫
redbullracing Happiest Birthday Y/N!!
y/n_stills. Thank you, energy drink company ✨ thanks for the gift of wings . ~ pls don’t fire me
Skysports Happy Birthday Y/N! , We’ll miss you.
y/n_stills Thank you, my lovely ex-employers 🤍 thank you for always filling your pantry with may favorites.
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F1 Double World Champion Max Verstappen is Dating Future Red Bull Racing Team Senior Design Director Y/N L/N!
Article by : Lola Scotts
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In picture : Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N at a flower shop at Manchester
Max Verstappen , The 2 time world driver’s championship winner , had just officially announced his relationship with multi-business owner and Sky Sports Formula 1 photographer Y/N L/N . Both have confirmed their relations on instagram with a sweet and personal post , a few hours after a fan had leaked their attendance to a mutual friend’s concert . And was later on spotted strolling a locally owned flea market in Manchester.
The Dutch Red Bull driver and the Korean born photographer had been already close friends prior to the relationship ; often times within the company of Formula 1 drivers— Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris. The coming together of the couple was a pleasant surprise to the realm of motorsports. As fans continue to anticipate the kind of dynamic these two would bring to the paddock, specially with relation to the 1st driver of the Italian racing team Ferrari — who was linked to L/N before.
Y/N L/N has already been a paddock favorite amongst motorsport fans not only for her close knit friendship with the drivers and some of the team principals , but also for her professionalism on track. Y/N had stated in an interview before that her love of the sport had led her to the opportunity to intern for the Italian racing team, Ferrari — and was later on officially scouted by Sky Sports as one of their Senior Design Directors for their photography and videography sectors .
Moreover, the boom in popularity of Formula 1 in social media has lead teams scrambling for purchase— and the knowledge of Y/N L/N’s ending contract with Sky Sports has been their life line; as several of the racing teams have reportedly been in negotiations with L/N.
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In picture: Y/N L/N at New Red Bull Office in Berlin
Nevertheless, due to the high probability of Y/N’s shift from Sky Sports to exclusively work for Red Bull Racing, some argue that lack of professionalism and partiality will be at play . But, such claims are quickly shut down when Red Bull had released a statement that proves that a contract was already in process, way before the relationship of the dutch champion and the accredited photographer has been established.
Still, even with the flames and barbs of the media , Verstappen and L/N are cool as a cucumber — as the two were spotted celebrating the photographer’s birthday with friends and loved ones before the end of month long formula 1 summer break.
The next Grand Prix is fast approaching. I do not know about you, but I believe that things will be a little more exciting for Formula 1.
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charles_leclerc
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likes are hidden
charles_leclerc originally mine , I refuse to give up.
comments are restricted
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5ummit · 1 year
Text
New Mandatory #NSFW Mature Label
I rarely post NSFW content so I'm not sure how long this has been a thing, but just a heads up, if you use the #NSFW tag, tumblr will now automatically apply the mature content label to your post.
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A few important notes:
(1) You can't remove this label. Well that's not 100% true, on original posts you can manually change the label back to "everyone." However, if you save or publish the post with #NSFW still included, the mature label will automatically be reapplied. Aka it's now impossible (with the new editor) to publish a post tagged as #NSFW that's not flagged as "mature."
(2) The mature label is also applied to reblogs tagged with #NSFW. This is where we get into a bit of a problem. Community labels on reblogs are not normally editable. The option is grayed out (as you can see above), which means that once you add the #NSFW tag to a reblog, even if you decide to later remove it, that post will forever be labelled "mature" and locked away from any of your followers who filter those posts out (remember mature filters are turned ON for everyone by default). As far as I can tell tagging a reblog as #NSFW does NOT apply the label to the post globally though, it's just on your own blog, but it's still not ideal.
(3) This only works when using "#NSFW" on its own. If any other text is included in the tag the auto-applied community label is not triggered.
(4) No other tag (that I've been able to find) has a mandatory community label. What's interesting is I did find an official @changes post from about 6 months ago stating that tumblr "will add the pertinent label to the post automatically" when the label is used as a tag, with #violence even being explicitly provided as an example, but I tried it (along with as many other "mature" tags as I could think of) and it didn't work. #NSFW appears to be the only one, at least right now.
Not being allowed to use the #NSFW tag without a mature label is annoying, particularly for those who are overly cautious about tagging it even when it may not be necessary and particularly since it's uneditable when applied to reblogs. However, I'm not going to outright say this new "feature" is 100% a bad thing and that everyone should get up in arms about it. This post is just meant to make you aware of it.
Most posts tagged as NSFW probably should be labelled "mature" and I bet most people just forget to do it or may not even know about community labels in the first place. As much as I want to return to the old "go nuts, show nuts" tumblr, I'm aware that's never going to happen and this new community label system is our only way forward. If there's any hope of tumblr ever broadening the mature content guidelines and getting us closer to where we were before (yes, I know it's a longshot), this system has to work and it only works if people use it.
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