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joonipertree · 5 months

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Pro-racer Mikey that needs to do photoshoots and commercials every once in a while because he's famous and has a pretty face

He's put into his tracksuit or into lavish clothes to pose for the masses and a lot of people realise that Mikey has a presence on the camera that's unshakeable

And so....they decide to have him model for a photoshoot with one of the biggest models of the industry. Which works!! It's fine

They're just pictures.

But then the model posts a selfie of Mikey and her. and she says nothing but puts a heart in the caption.

And the speculations run WILD

Comments upon comments of shipping them together, calling them a power couple.

And you sit there, stuck in a doom scroll as you see one tweet after the other. You stare at your boyfriend, black hair neatly kept and smile wide like it always was, and you see the pretty girl.

And within seconds, you feel stupid for feeling insecure because Mikey had literally spent all morning peppering you in kisses, it was IMPOSSIBLE to pry him off even though he had a shoot and Draken had to come haul his ass up and out the door.

The man had texted you complaining how the food was blegh and how he missed your face.

There's no reason to be jealous.

So you turned off your phone and when Mikey came home, exhausted but very happy to see you....you let him smother you in kisses.

And it's forgotten

Until an unofficial bonus picture was released, on the magazine's Instagram page.

Him and the model, her leaning down as he sits on a chair...his hand wrapped around her wrist while their faces are inches close to each other.

It took three seconds to switch your phone off, throw it away and break down sobbing with whatever rational thought you had leaving your head.

You didn't need to read the comments to know what they were saying. You didn't need to wait until your friend's message you to ask if you're okay, out of pity. You didn't need his friends to call you in defense of him. You didn't need him to realise what had happened.

It was all a PR stunt so why would he even need to apologize. It was just a picture. Two people who were attractive being in close proximity to each other, being ogled by millions...being perceived as perfect for each other. As 'pleasing to the eye'

Now, Mikey was filming a commercial when this happened. He'd been chatting with the co-star while the cameras rolled when he noticed Ken-chin whisper into his phone.

The man looked annoyed, ready to argue but going rigid before sighing.

With a whisper to the director, everything paused as Ken waved his phone and said it was for Mikey. That it was Emma.

There was immediate panic because there's no way it wouldn't be an emergency. And he was right, his eyes widened and body grew stiff in seconds hearing his sister berate him.

For being a bastard, for breaking your heart like that.

She demanded he fixed it and when he was about to ask what was going on.....Draken shoved another phone into Mikeys hand...the instagram page of the magazine opened.

Oh. Fuck no

"I'm leaving." Mikey yelled out, startling everyone in the room, his years of being a gang leader coming out.

"What do you mean---"

Draken blocked the director's view, hands behind his back as he went back into the position of the second in command.

"You heard him."

"He has a contract--"

"He doesn't give a fuck."

#a lil drabble cuz im stressed and #this fic has been brewing #ill write it out properly soon tho!!!!#mikey x reader #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev fluff #mikey headcanon #mikey imagines #mikey x you #tokyo rev x you #mikey fluff #mikey sano headcanons #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #manjirou x reader

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tangibletechnomancy · 5 months

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The (Personal) Is (Political)

~7 hours, Dall-E 3 via Bing Image Creator, generated under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

Or, Dear Microsoft and OpenAI: Your Filters Can't Stop Me From Saying Things: An interactive exercise in why all art is political and game of Spot The Symbols

A rare piece I consider Fully Finished simply as a jpeg, though I may do something physical with it regardless. "Director commentary" below, but I strongly encourage you to go over this and analyze it yourself before clicking through, then see how much your reading aligns with my intent.

Elements I told the model to add and a brief (...or at least inexhaustive) overview of why:

Anime style and character figures - Frequently associated with commercial "low" art and consumer culture, in East Asia and the English-speaking world alike, albeit in different ways - justly or otherwise. There is frequently an element of racism to the denigration of anime styles in the west; nearly any American artist who has taken formal illustration classes can tell you a story of being told that anime style will only hinder them, that no one will hire them if they see anime, or even being graded more harshly and scrutinized for potential anime-esque elements if they like anime or imply that they may like anime - including just by being Asian and young. On the other hand, it is true that there is a commercial strategy of "slap an anime girl on it and it will sell". The passion fans feel for these characters is genuine - and it is very, very exploitable. In fact, this commercialization puts anime styles in particular in a very contentious position when it comes to AI discussions!

Dark-skinned boy with platinum and pink [and blue] hair - Racism and colorism! They're a thing, no matter how much the worst people in the world want you to think they're long over and "critical race theory" is the work of evil anti-American terrorists! I chose his appearance because I knew that unless I was incredibly lucky, I would have to fight with this model for multiple hours to get satisfactory results on this point in particular - and indeed I did. It was an interesting experience - what didn't surprise me was how much work it took me to get a skin color darker than medium-dark tan; what did surprise me was that the hair color was very difficult to get right. In anime art, for dark skin to be matched with light hair and eyes is common enough to be...pretty problematic. Bing Image Creator/Dall-E, on the other hand, swings completely in the opposite direction and struggles with the concept of giving dark-skinned characters any hair color OTHER than black, demanding pretty specific phrasing to get it right even 70% of the time. (I might cynically call this yet another illustration against the pervasive copy-paste myth...) There is also much to say about the hair texture and facial features - while I was pleased to see that more results than I expected gave me textured hair and/or box braids without me asking for it, those were still very much in the minority, and I never saw any deviation from the typical anime facial structures meant to illustrate Asian and white characters. Not even once!

Pink and blue color palette - Our subject is transgender. Bias self-check time: did you make that association as quickly as you would with a light-skinned character, or even Sylveon?

Long hair, cute clothes, lots of accessories - Styling while transmasc is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation, doubly so if you're not white. In many locations, the medical establishment and mainstream attitude demands total conformity to the dominant culture's standard conventional masculinity, or else "revoking your man card" isn't just a joke meant to uphold the idea that men are "better" than women, but a very real threat. In many queer communities, especially online, transmascs are expected to always be cute femboys who love pink (while transfems are frequently degraded and seen as threats for being butch), and being Just Some Guy is viewed as inherently a sign of assimilationism at best and abusiveness at worst. It is an eternal tug-of-war where "cuteness" and ornamentation are both demanded and banned at the same time. Black and brown people are often hypermasculinized and denied the opportunity to even be "cute" in the first place, regardless of gender. Long hair and how gender is read into it is extremely culture-dependent; no matter what it means to you, if anything, the dominant culture wherever you are will read it as it likes.

Trophies and medals - For one, the trans sports Disk Horse has set feminism back by nearly 50 years; I'm barely a Real History-Remembering Adult and yet I clearly remember a time when the feminist claim about gender in sports was predominantly "hey, it's pretty fucked up that sports are segregated by sex rather than weight class or similar measures, especially when women's sports are usually paid much less and given weirdly oversexualized uniforms," but then a few loud living embodiments of turds in the punch bowl realized that might mean treating trans people fairly and now it's super common for self-proclaimed feminists - mostly white ones - to claim that the strongest woman will still never measure up to the weakest man and this is totally a feminist statement because they totally want to PROTECT women (with invasive medical screenings on girls as young as 12 to prove they're Really Women if they perform too well, of course). For two, Black and brown people are stereotyped as being innately more sporty, physically strong, and, again, Masculine(TM) than others, which frequently intersects with item 1...and if you think it only affects trans women, I am sorry my friend but it is so much worse and more extensive than you think.

Hearts - They mean many things. Love. Happiness. Cuteness. Social media engagement?

TikTok - A platform widely known and hated around these parts for its arcane and deeply regressive algorithm; I felt it deserved to be name/layout/logodropped for reasons that, if they're not clear already, should become so in the final paragraph.

Computers, cameras and cell phones - My initial specification was that one of the phones should be on Instagram and another on TikTok, which the model instead chose to interpret as putting a TikTok sticker on the laptop, but sure, okay. They're ubiquitous in the modern day, for better and for worse. For all the debate over whether phones and social media are Good For Us or Bad For Us, the fact of the matter is, they seem to be a net positive-to-neutral, whose impacts depend on the person - but they do still have major drawbacks. The internet is a platform for conspiracy theories and pseudoscience and dangerous hoaxes to spread farther than ever before. Social media culture leaves many people feeling like we're always being watched and every waking moment of our lives must be Perfect - and in some senses, we are always being watched these days. Digital privacy is eroding by the day, already being used to enforce all the most unjust laws on the books, which leads to-

Pigs - I wrote the prompt with the intention that it would just be a sticker on the laptop, but instead it chose to put them everywhere, and given that I wanted to make a somewhat stealthy statement about surveillance, especially of the marginalized...thanks for that, Dall-E! ;)

Alligators - A counter to the pigs; a short-lived antifascist symbol after...this.

Details I did not intend but love anyway:

The blue in the hair - I only prompted for platinum and pink in the hair, but the overall color palette description "bled" over here anyway, completing the trans flag, making it even more blatant, and thus even more effective as a bias self-check.

The Macbook - I only specified a laptop. Hilariously ironic, to me, that a service provided through Bing interpreted "laptop" as "Macbook" nearly every time. In my recent history, 22 out of 24 attempts show, specifically, a Macbook. Microsoft v. OpenAI divorce arc when? ;) But also, let us not forget Apple's role in the ever-worsening sanitization of the internet. A Macbook with a TikTok sticker (or, well, a Tiikok sticker - recognizable enough) - I can think of little more emblematic of one of the main things I was complaining about, and it was a happy accident. Or perhaps an unhappy one, considering what it may imply about Apple's grip on culture and communications.

Which brings me to my process:

Generated over ~7 hours with Dall-E 3 through Bing Image Creator - The most powerful free tool out there for txt2img these days, as well as a nightmare of filters and what may be the most disgustingly, cloyingly impersonal toxic positivity I've ever witnessed from a tool. It wants to be Art(TM), yet it wants to ban Politics(TM); two things which are very much incompatible - and so, I wanted to make A Controversial Statement using only the most unflaggable, innocuous elements imaginable, no matter how long it took.

All art is political. All life is political. All our "defaults" are cultural, and therefore political. Anything whatsoever can be a symbol.

If you want all art to be a substance-free "look at the pretty picture :)" - it doesn't matter how much you filter, buddy, you've got a big storm coming.

#ai art #generated art #dall-e 3 #bing image creator

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prettyshon10 · 2 months

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TOWL EP. 4

SPOILERS

- Poured some wine for this one; let’s go

- Whose house is this? It’s nice (was that a roomba I saw?)

- Yes, thunder! Set the atmosphere!

- I will never skip these opening credits

- The body is giviiiiing! Danaiiii!

- That man is lusting—omg, he see’s the scar!

- It’s literally takes me twice as long as the episodes’ run time ‘cause I keep pausing and rewinding, but can you blame me? I’m trying to take EVERYTHING in; I’m tryna savor

- “You’ve become a bit of a creative writer these days. That note? In the getaway boat? Poetry.”

- She’s MAD mad, y’all!

- “Children”! She said “children”! He caught that!

- Only 7 minutes in and this ep has me in a chokehold; Imma need more wine

- I knew it wasn’t gonna be that easy; sorry to y’all theories

- THEY ARE ACTING!!!! ACTING!!! The mannerisms—the cracked voices raised in anger! The fact that NOBODY on the TWD cast bagged an Emmy is so freakin CRIMINAL!!!

- Yo! Automated Voice! SHUT UP!

- She ain’t giving you that thing, sir.

- “What did they do to you?” The angst is angsting.

- “Do you still love me?” STOOOOOOP! I’m done! 😭Cut the show—

- Now the sun’s coming out from behind the storm clouds…

- Round three of “They won’t come after us if we’re “dead””, huh?

- I’m totally sure Jadis would not believe they’re dead. They’re Rick and Michonne. She knows better.

- Shout out to my subscription plan—I love not sitting through commercials!

- Sis is really whacking him over head with the “what about the kids?!” approach

- The black woman in her is leaping out and I love it; baby said “deuces, then.”

- Don’t tell me she’s waiting for him to follow her…

- And he wants to!!! The tropes are troping!

- My wine is gone and I’m not even halfway into the episode. I’m gonna throw myself out the window, I swear…

- I hear a chopper; no no no no no

- Not her sassing him 😂 I love snarky Michonne

- “The only time I feel safe is when I’m with you.”

- Even at their most divided, they’re a forced to be reckoned with. Look at them fight together!

- Not him getting blood on her face! Rick, she’s pissed enough as it is!

- Automated Voice, I’m not doing this with you, again!

- The way she grounds him back to reality in the midst of his panic. How very “sun’s getting real low” of them. ❤️

- Inject this entire scene into my veins

- Bathed in the golden glow of this light; it’s the little things

- RJ really does look just like Rick. Shout out to the casting director. Man’s genes said “you’re gonna carry a lightly melanated clone, and that’s final!”

- This show is literally fan service done the RIGHT WAY; other shows takes notes

- Not the roomba sneaking a peak! Caught my boy off guard—he was ready to fight

- Finally, he’s asking about the mark

- “Carl. They took Carl.” Excuse me?!

- “I can’t live without you. Without you, I die.”

- Andrew Lincoln wants me deceased: confirmed. This is a personal attack, I’m sure of it

- Oh lord, not the Carl drawing…

- I just…😫😭

- Elevator make out! One thing about my faves, they’re gonna get it in anytime, any place! And walker killing is an aphrodisiac!

- In the car, too! 😂

- Things are totally gonna go left; only question is how

- Wait, it’s over?!

#danai ATE every crumb #she said 💋 no leftovers #twd towl #towl spoilers #the walking dead #the ones who live #richonne #rick grimes #michonne grimes #rick x michonne #amc #1x04

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absurdthirst · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023: October 8th

Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

Max Lord x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Magic stones, ancient inscriptions, DUB-CON, compulsion to have sex, wordless consent, public sex, frantic sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of biting

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The TV guy has been hanging around for the last few days. Causing a disruption in the everyday workload as the director had pushed for a personalized tour to the CEO of Black Gold since he was promising a sizable donation to the foundation. If there was one thing that could turn your normally stalwart director into a groveling slut, it was the promise of funds.

You hear a booming laugh and roll your eyes. Unsure of what the joke was down the hall, but you know it was Barbara that was giving him the tour so it couldn’t be that funny. Nothing against her, but she wasn’t the joking type. You look back down at your large magnifying glass, looking through it at the inscription etched into the stone that has been a source of intrigue to you over the past few days since it had arrived.

When your name is called, you try not to get annoyed, knowing that your boss would want you to place nice. Looking up and plastering a smile on your face as you watch Barbara and the TV guy, you forget his name, walk in.

Well, she walks. He seemingly saunters in like he owns the place. Perhaps he thinks that because he’s going to write a check, he is an owner.

His eyes are quick, clever. Far more clever that you would imagine seeing those cheesy commercials he always has played on the tv during Jeopardy. The smile you could do without. It’s screaming slightly sleazy, put on and false in order to get what he wants. The only question is, what does Max Lord want?

Introductions are made, Barabara bouncing almost nervously as you shake the salesman’s hand. Pulling your hand away quickly and turning towards her so she can tell you what she wants. She never approaches you unless she needs something. You aren’t one of the posh, beautiful scientists she wants so desperately to be close to.

“Can I ask a favor?” She asks, clapping her hands together and giving you a pleading look. “I have a meeting that I can’t reschedule.” Her eyes flicker over to the suit and then back to you. “Could you please finish up the tour for Mr. Lord?” “Please….” He winces. “Call me Maxwell.” He offers with a sugar sweet smile that he seems to think to be a gift. He’s not bad looking, but he would look better if he took the Sun-in out of his hair and lost the boxy shoulder pads. You were one of the few that hated the way fashion has gone.

“I have a lot to do here.” You protest but Barbara gives you an even more pleading expression. “But…..I can finish it up.” She nearly claps in relief. “After I finish up my work.” You warn seriously.

“Yeah….sure….” She’s bobbing her head quickly and looking over Maxwell. “That’s great. Well, I know you’ll have a great time, so I’ll just run along.”

You ignore the flirting and flustering as Maxwell makes a slight scene at Barbara leaving, kissing her hand and making her giggle like she’s five again. Soon enough, there’s blissful silence back in your lab so you can concentrate.

“So what are you studying?” The question comes after two blissful minutes of silence. Two minutes that you had obviously hoped would be longer. Your eyes cut up from your magnifying glass to find Maxwell looking at the stone curiously.

“A rock.” You glibly answer, keeping your tone just as dry as you possibly can. Barely resisting the urge to smirk when his grin slides off his unfairly handsome face.

Maybe you feel a little guilty, but it’s not enough to make you apologize as you look back down at the inscription with a frown. While your Latin was rusty, you swear this is talking about fertility. Just as you tilt the glass down more, a finger appears in front of your magnifying glass, making it look even larger than normal, showing you the grooves in his skin. “What’s-”

“No!” You cry out, knowing that the stone cannot be touched without gloves. The instructions had been very clear in the crate that the stone was packed in. “Don’t touch it!”

Your fingers collide, both of you touching the vivid jade stone at the same time. The piece seemingly glows at the contact and both of you gasp as you snatch your hands away, knocking over the magnifying glass.

The next few moments are nothing short of a blur of pain and confusion. Nearly blacking out until a pair of lips smash against yours in the most inelegant, needy kiss of your life.

“Ohhhh!” Your eyes fly open, finding Maxwell’s face right in yours and his mouth opens, groaning.

“I can’t- I need-” He doesn’t stop kissing you, his words are just cut off by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Your tongue. The feeling of him pressing against you awakening something base inside you.

You don’t know why, but you need him. The word fertility flashing in your mind and you push it away because of the burning of your skin and the throbbing of your cunt.

He apparently feels the same way. Something hard and pulsing starts to push against your hip as he backs you up against the table you had been working at. Nothing but fervent kisses being exchanged, and his hands start to pull at your clothes.

You never even think to push him away. It doesn’t even cross your mind. Too busy grabbing handfuls of him and ripping open the obvious faux Gucci belt so you can rip those ridiculously baggy pants off of him.

His hands are bigger, harder than you ever would have imagined when watching those commercials of his. Wonderful on your skin as he slides them up your thighs under your skirt. Hot as find the edge of your panties and hooking under them to start dragging them down.

It’s not like you’ve talked about this, but neither one of you cares. Both of you groaning when your own hand dives into his briefs and wraps around an impressive cock. He hides it well under those bulky suits.

Both of you need each other in a way that can’t even be described. The pain flaring in your stomach drives you, squeezing and pumping his cock, pulling back the foreskin and smearing the bead of precum around the head while he pants into your mouth.

Your name, not even spoken by him before, sounds like ambrosia as it drips from his tongue. His own fingers sliding through your folds before he is pushing you up onto the table and spreading your legs to step between.

Your cry would draw any number of personnel if there had been anyone. It had already been late in the day, and then the meeting had drawn everyone else away, leaving your floor empty with the exception of you and Maxwell. “Max!” Your eyes widen when he pushes inside you, filling you to the hilt with a needy, frantic thrust.

He groans again, twitching violently inside you and gripping the edge of the table behind you. Pulling his hips back and shuddering when he thrusts forward again and moans at how tight you are.

Rocking the table with how hard he’s fucking you, you can’t do anyting but hold on and whine for him. Every piercing thrust of his cock pushing the pain away and making your cunt feel amazing. Hitting all the best spots, deep inside you and scratching an itch you didn’t know you had.

Kisses are littered on your skin, his teeth being used far more that you ever thought possible as a man fucks into you as frantically as Maxwell does. Chasing that same goal with the urgency that is burning underneath your own skin. Both of you pulling and grabbing at each other, clothes bunched between you as you grind your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“I didn’t- fuck, it’s so good.” Maxwell rambles. “You’re so good. I can’t - it’s so- fuck.”

You can only moan in agreement, not even coherent enough to speak right now. Your entire focus on the connection of his cock in your pussy.

Your body is so sensitive that you are shocked by how quickly you cum. Taking you by surprise as your head falls back and your hands hold onto his broad shoulders. Cunt clenching down around him and the heat of your orgasm rushing through your body and seemingly quenching that fire that had been burning since you touched the stone only minutes before.

“Oh fuck, oh mierda.” He groans, clenching his teeth and shouting when he thrusts once more, pulsing heavily inside you as he paints your womb with his seed in hot spurts. Panting and whining as he rocks his hips to push every drop into your quivering cunt until he’s spent and collapsing against you and both of you drop to the table top.

Gasping for air, you try to catch your breath as you roll your head to the side and feel Max nuzzle against your neck, his own breath still undstead. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the stone. “What the fuck was that?” You ask, bewildered and almost giggly as you look at the fertility stone that had compelled both of you to fuck like wild animals in your lab.

“I don’t know.” He pants. “But I might need a minute if we do it again.”

Breaking into a giggle, your hand slides up to pet the hair that you had been snorting at earlier. Maybe Max Lord wasn’t soooo bad. “Hell of a tour, huh?”

“Fuck.” He chuckles, still not moving on top of you and snuggling into you even more when your fingers scratch his scalp. “The best.”

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord fanfiction #max lord x reader #max lord x you #max lord x f!reader #max lord smut #max lord imagine #max lord fanfiction #max lord ww84

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aphroditeslover11 · 7 months

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Hi what do you think about a Neil Lewis with a actress reader? Like they met before and he has already a crush on her and then he watch movie and see her ?

Another tought (not q request just something in my head) so I'm from Göttingen, an we have here q tradition if someone has his PhD they have to kiss the Statue of the goose Maid ( "Gänseliesel") he is not common with this tradition and so when reader ask him when he is planning do the kiss he assumed she wanna that he kiss her

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking of. I’m not at my best at the moment so I’m sorry if there are any glaring errors. I hadn’t written for Neil before, but he’s actually very fun! Thanks for your request. Also, that is a fabulous tradition, it might get slotted into one of my other Oppie requests, I’m not sure yet though as it’s in the idea phase at the moment.

A Surprise Encounter

A/N: the classic films mentioned are all free on BBC iPlayer, go and give them a watch! I also have no idea where the store is, so I made it up.

Neil was absolutely beside himself when the invite arrived in the post. A new film that he couldn’t wait to see was premiering soon, it was low budget but contained a few big names who had decided that they wanted to promote the more independent side of the industry. He had been asked to attend an event aiming to promote smaller video shops like his rather than the huge, commercial ones that were taking over. When he read that you and the director alone were going to be on the panel he felt like he had never been luckier, finally a chance to meet his favourite actress in the flesh. Although he did admire your talents, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he also found you wildly attractive.

The next few weeks were spent planning everything. He rewatched a few of your films so that he could ask some decent questions of you at the press event and reading every article that he could on the making of your new one, a biopic of Julie d’Aubigny. He went out and bought a new suit for the occasion, had his hair cut. As far as he was concerned, there were going to be no disasters, not when he was going to meet one of his idols.

The day of the event had finally come. All of the invitees, including Neil, had been piled into an auditorium where they had been given an early viewing of the film, then being moved into a press room with rows of chairs set out in front of a platform. He was happy with his seat, about half way back in the crowd, not too conspicuous but with a good view of the stage. The previous hubbub died down as soon as the panel made their way up, the director taking his place, yet Neil’s eyes were fixed on you. Your hair was down and curly, framing your face, and that smile that everyone always talked about. You were wearing black heels a red dress that dipped down just enough to give a small view of your cleavage. He was transfixed.

Questions started being asked, the general types of how you had enjoyed working with the rest of the cast and what you had taken away from playing your character, some conversations were had about wanting to make sure that the smaller side of the film and cinema industry wasn’t dwarfed in the future. For some reason, all of the eyes in the room suddenly focused on Neil, it was only then that he realised that he had drifted off, his arm leaned on the armrest of his chair in such a way that you had thought he was asking a question.

“Uh, the gentleman in the blue suit there, do you have a question?” The sentence was coming from you, quickly drawing him out of his reverie.

“Um.. yes,” he never was much good at thinking on his feet. “I know that you’re promoting this film today, but do you feel as if classic cinema has been forgotten. My shop specialises in older, more hard to find movies and… well, yeah,” he trailed off. He was like a deer in the headlights, speaking as if he was full of terror. A few people around him were scoffing and hiding their laughter. Great, he had embarrassed himself in front of you.

“Actually, I do think that we’ve forgotten about classic cinema. Not only the thrillers and comedies, but for me the least talked about are the romance films. I grew up on Astaire and Rogers musicals, I know some people don’t like them and find them a bit politically incorrect know, but they still have a special place in my heart. If you think about their influence on modern cinema, we wouldn’t have ‘Sleepless In Seattle’ if it hadn’t been for a 1939 film ‘Love Affair”. What was your name?” Why the hell did you want to know who he was?

“Neil Lewis.”

“And where’s your shop?”

“California, its called Gumshoe Video.”

“I’ll pop in next time I’m in town, maybe you could give me some recommendations.” And that was the end of that conversation.

About three weeks later everything had returned to normal. Neil was back to running the store and the gang were still practically living there. It was a completely normal day when Lucien, who had been manning the counter, came around to the back to find him.

“Neil, you might want to come inside, there’s a customer asking for you.”

“Can’t you handle it?” He just wanted a bit of time to himself, making is response more huffy than he had intended.

“Trust me, you want to come and see this.”

He followed Lucien back into the shop, only to be caught in shock as he saw you standing there in front of him, dressed a lot more casually than the last time he saw you, but still with your hair down in its beautiful curls. He never thought that you would actually make true on what you had said, but here you were.

“Is there anything that I can help you with Miss y/l/n?” “I came by to see if you had any suggestions for me, you know, classic films like you said you specialised in.” You actually seemed a bit nervous, though he had no idea why. “And please, call me y/n.”

“Right, y/n,” it just felt so right when he said it. “What kind of thing are you looking for, any genres in mind?”

“I always love a romance movie, the press don’t know yet but I left my boyfriend last month after he cheated on me. I’m down here to get away from it all, so a romance to take my mind off everything would be good, yeah.” He could see the sadness behind your eyes as you explained.

“He must have been an idiot then,” he said, immediately regretting it and walking past the stunned Lucien towards the romance section, beckoning for you to follow.

“So, you said that you liked Astaire and Rogers, but have you ever seen ‘The Sky’s The Limit’?”

“I don’t think I have, no.” He reached out for the dvd, showing you the front of the case.

“It’s Fred Astaire and Joan Leslie, came out in 1943. A musical about a fighter pilot who falls in love with a girl who wants to make it as a journalist, sounds like the sort of thing you might be looking for.”

“I think I’ll take that then, sounds perfect.” Something lit up inside him, you were smiling and it was because of something that he had done.

“Right, I’ll go and sort out a membership card so that you can rent it then, do you have any ID on you. Driver’s licence or something?” You followed him over to the till, rooting around in your bag to find what he had asked for. He busied himself, quickly handing over the card and the movie.

“What do I owe you?” you asked, reaching for your purse.

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure, because…”

“Yeah, in return for having me at that panel a few weeks back. It was amazing.” “Well, in that case can I pay you back in another way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could watch the film together?”

“That sounds like a fair means of payment, I think I’ll accept.” You slipped him your number, telling him to call when he was free before walking out of the store, Neil wondering what the fuck had just happened.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #fanfic #requests #classic films

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yellow-yarrow · 3 months

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director's commentary for this post (lmao) because I like yapping

the reason why I choose these artworks is not just because they looked good, I thought it was interesting how they treat colors, light and rot

Damien Hirst's Black Sun is made of many dead flies, people have said that this artwork smells gross up close. Its theme is obviously death and disgust (like most of his works), he has also said the flies represent people, and quotes Hobbes saying that people's life without a government is bad and tragic (which I HEAVILY disagree with)

Hirst sells his works for millions of dollars, it's highly commercialized, some have accused him of money laundering and such. Insert the Wompty-Dompty Dom Centre thought:

Problem It's Wednesday evening and something heinously exciting is under way. People have gathered beneath the billowing roof of an oddly shaped trophy building, sipping wine and exchanging opinions. 29-year-old wunder-twins Guy and Keith Joost are the stars of the show, with their bomber jackets and white sneakers -- head curators of this art exhibition. It's the wompty-dom-di-dommiest event of the year and all the cool kids have RSVP’d. Where are you, if you are not there? Solution You're at home, stupid cop, not with the art crowd. You hate them, everyone hates them, even they hate themselves. It's nauseating -- an industry built on sprezzatura and sparkling wine. And, let’s be honest, tax evasion schemes. The Wompty Dompty Dom Centre is the heart of this unholy symbiosis of esthetics and tax optimization, and now that you've internalized it – you can have a piece too!

personally, for me, it invokes disgust both on an aesthetic level (dead flies) and in a conceptual level (rich guy using death to make millions). Tieing this into black being the color of money in Elysium, and the end of the world.

Malevich's Black square is a painting without an object, it doesn't represent the material world, it is independent of it. but at the same time, black is the density of matter in the white empty space.

He said this about this art: "[Black Square is meant to evoke] the experience of pure non-objectivity in the white emptiness of a liberated nothing." "It is from zero, in zero, that the true movement of being begins." (x) ‘In the year 1913, trying desperately to free art from the dead weight of the real world, I took refuge in the form of the square.’ (x)

Important context for this work (like many other black paintings) is that it was made around the time of the world wars, and the russian revolution. Black paintings express the trauma of the world wars, and in this case the revolutionary approach to art too.

quoting from the article I linked:

Malevich had been collaborating with the musician Mikhail Matyushin and the poet Aleksei Kruchenykh on a manifesto which called for the rejection of rational thought. They wanted to overturn the established systems and hierarchies of Western society. Together with poet Velimier Khlebnikov they staged Victory over the Sun, where the characters aimed to abolish reason by capturing the sun and destroying time. The libretto used Kruchenykh’s zaum – a new language of sounds that had no meaning. This sparked something in Malevich.

Similar things apply to White on white. The Moma website describes it better than I would:

[Malevich] "wanted White on White to create a sense of floating and transcendence. White, Malevich believed, was the color of infinity and signified a realm of higher feeling, a utopian world of pure form that was attainable only through nonobjective art. Indeed, he named his theory of art Suprematism to signify “the supremacy of pure feeling or perception in the pictorial arts”; and pure perception, he wrote, demanded that a picture’s forms “have nothing in common with nature.” In 1918, soon after the Russian Revolution, the connotations of this sense of liberation were not only aesthetic but also social and political. Malevich expressed his exhilaration in a manifesto one year later: “I have overcome the lining of the colored sky. . . . Swim in the white free abyss, infinity is before you.”

These molding fruits made out of gemstones by Kathleen Ryan make me think of Damien Hirst's bedazzled Skull artwork, decadence, kitsch, death. The gemstones make the mold feel like it has value, importance, like it's almost sacred. The pale as a "sacred and terrible smell"

Rothko's paintings heavily empathize colors, paintings like these invite us to really experience those colors and be moved by them.

From the Disco Elysium artbook:

Eyes are direct, unmediated input to the brain. You like or dislike something before you have a chance to reason about it. It affects you emotionally without offering you a chance to throw up intellectual defenses first. Witnessing death and good art are materially equivalent experiences: they are visual information transmitted straight to the centers of emotion by way of the eye. This might explain why a person could tear up in the presence of a Rothko painting. If you’re a sensitive enough instrument, seeing his Orange, Red, Yellow in real life feels intense. It doesn’t work on a computer screen though, you’re just staring at some bright pixels imitating the appearance of the painting the same way seeing a dead person is different from seeing a picture of a dead person.

El Lissitzky was also an important figure in russian avant-garde, like Malevich. Well. I put this one in here cause it looked nice and because of the theme of light and the lack of (it's a gelatin silver photograph).

maybe this adds something to the discussion of the symbolism of colors and light in Elysium

#long post /#I love art history and talking about art so much #what do i tag this #its going into my #de meta #tag

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kuampinc · 3 months

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We offer a range of services, such as ideation, content development, consulting, full-service film/video production, post-production and finishing, and more. We work with you to create a unique and compelling brand identity that reflects your story and connects with your audience. Call us now and let's get started on your project.

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 3 months

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Just when I thought I had seen everything and held a glimmer of hope that Marvel/Disney might learn from their mistakes, I see this:

Unbelievable...

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that these executives who have known privilege their whole damn lives wouldn't know how to take criticism.

Most people have no issue with female-led movies. We have an issue with scriptwriters, directors and studios who can't be arsed to write them well and flesh them out and think that by showing them kicking ass that means they're already strong and everybody should kiss the ground they walk on.

If we didn't want female-led movies then Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel wouldn't have hit $1b. The first CM movie was wonderful but The Marvels is NOT a sequel at all. Hell, the other day I saw a Disney+ commercial on TV to promote the movie releasing on the platform and in the entire spot Carol doesn't even say a thing! It's entirely focused on Kamala and Monica.

You can't write one-dimensional characters like Sylvie or Captain Carter and expect us to fall in love with them just because you write all the characters around them drooling over them. Look at Layla, the women in Black Panther/Wakanda Forever, Wanda in WV... we love those because they're written well.

I can't even speak about what exactly Marvel has been doing lately that could be classified as "female empowerment". Do they think showing female characters is feminist? Just having them there speaking and doing things? That's feminist? The bar is that low? 🤦‍♀️

Please just stop. Have an actual meeting, learn how to take criticism and make good movies or we're out. It really is that simple.

#mcu critical #mcu salt #there's a lot of salt in this one lol #but this pissed me off #'they hate us cause they're sexist'#can you be any more childish?!!

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filmauteur · 2 years

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“Losing Ground (1982) is one of the few independent films made in the 1980’s by a Black woman director. Kathleen Collins was a brilliant, highly talented professor of film. Unfortunately, she directed only this one commercial film, and tragically, she died when she was just 46 years old. The movie itself was largely ignored, and would have been truly lost except for a fortunate event. Collins’ daughter found the negatives, and Milestone has remastered the film for theatrical release.” (X) Losing Ground (1982, Directed by: Kathleen Collins, USA)

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

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Oscars Night Part 1 (MBJ/Famous Black OC)

A/N: Warning - NSFW… My favorite Black power couple are back at it againnnn… took some creative liberties with this one lol but hope you enjoy and let me know if you want to be tagged! There is a part 2 with Charlotte's win but I wanted to start with MBJ.

***

"Welcome back to the 96th Academy Awards. And now to present the Academy Award for Best Director, please welcome two-time Oscar winner Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan."

Charlotte forced her face to remain relaxed with a bright smile despite the nerves coursing through her as she glided up to the mic. She was far more nervous than she should have been for a category she was not even nominated in. And it was not because of the bright lights, sea of her peers, or the millions of people watching that she could not see. No, it was because who won this category would be a defining moment in her life.

She took a deep breath and pushed her long hair behind her ear before smiling and reading her lines. “As actors, we know that our work would mean little without strong visionaries at the helm. Our directors set the tone for our work and are tasked with bringing complex stories and characters to life and creating new worlds for us to escape to. Whether we are watching a coming-of-age story or a man fighting his past both in and outside of the ring, these five directors brought to life stories of joy, grief, heartbreak, and compassion. Their innovative visions for their films created both windows into the lives of people we may never know, and mirrors into our own lives so we may better know ourselves. Here are the nominees for Best Director.”

Charlotte waited as the lights dimmed and the video started playing a scene from each nominee’s film. She wasn’t listening really until she heard it, the performance she really cared about it, the one she prayed with her all might would win one of the biggest awards of the night. "Michael B. Jordan, Creed III.” She listen to the short snippet of Michael and Jonathan’s fight on the beach from the film, which remained - even a year later - one of her favorite scenes. She wished she could see his face in the darkness, from his seat on the front row, she knew he absolutely hated watching himself back. Her mind allowed her to be transported back to the moment right before this.

"You ready?" She whispered to him during the commercial break, only having a few moments before the showrunners would whisk her backstage to fulfill her role as a presenter. She had not really wanted a role at all, except the one of a doting and supportive wife, but the world had other plans. When the original presenter for the award fell through, the Academy called Jordan and asked her to step in. It was not ideal as her husband was nominated, leading to a true test of their cardinal rule: their relationship would never interfere with work.

Charlotte immediately informed her husband, letting him know that her intention to politely decline. She did not want to announce the award because, while she felt he deserved to win (and voted as such), statistically, he had a 20% chance. She had been in his shoes before, knew the odds were never truly in anyone’s favor when it came to award shows, and would rather sit beside him and support him whichever way the wind blew.

Michael, on the other hand, couldn’t have disagreed more. He insisted she accept, citing that cardinal rule they had always abided by since they started dating nine years prior. This was work and presenting at the Oscars was a promotional opportunity. And he knew Marvel would not appreciate her turning down an opportunity to promote her recent project, the Marvels. She could not say no simply because of his feelings. He also believed that he would rather hear the news, either way, from his wife. Charlotte did not necessarily agree with his logic but who was she to argue with him? It was his night after all and this was what he wanted.

Michael kissed the back of her hand. "Babe, stop stressing. I am not as worried as you and I am the one nominated," he chuckled. Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the way his hand gripped and released the meat of her thigh, exposed by the high split in her dress, a tell that he was similarly riddled with anxiety.

"Yea and I am sure you aren’t nervous at all," she retorted, pointing at his active hand and jiggling leg.

He sighed, "I just don’t want to get too caught up in it, you know? You said so yourself… shit doesn’t really change. Being one of the only sports movies nominated is an honor in and of itself. So many directors and actors don’t win this shit anyway so if I don’t, I’ll move on.”

Charlotte could not disagree with him there, she understood all of this too well. In 2018, she became the first black woman to win two Oscars in one night for Best Song and Best Actress, cementing her place as the youngest EGOT winner in history. And while it was a moment she had dreamed about her entire life, aside from the phone ringing a bit more, nothing truly changed. The work was still the work and people did not treat her any differently.

"Well just know that whatever name I read up there, you are the best director to me," she offered as security came to transition her backstage. She placed a kiss to his cheek and lips before heading to get mic’ed up.

Charlotte’s hand trembled slightly as the lights came back up and the camera’s transitioned back to her. This was it, the moment of truth. "And the Oscar goes to…"

It took a moment to open the envelope and pull the card out. She read the name twice just to ensure she wasn’t hallucinating, unable to stop the gigantic smile that spread across her face or the tears that started to fall earnestly. “Get on up here, husband.” She laughed, the entire crowd immediately erupting in cheers. “Michael B. Jordan, Creed III.”

Loud cheers filled her ears and the crowd rose to a standing ovation as Michael made his way up to the stage. It took a minute as he gave a quick round of hugs to a couple of their friends who sat along the way to the stage.

Charlotte could barely see through the tears that clouded her vision by the time he was in front of her. Michael did not care about the golden statue in her hand as he swept her up into a hug and deep kiss, the audience also forgotten until a wolf whistle and whooping filled their ears. To him, this moment was well worth the anxiety he felt for the last week at the idea of her saying someone else’s name. This was more than he could have hoped for.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered as she broke away from their hug and kissed him softly again. He squeezed her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her ring finger, their signature move. She quickly moved off to the side to stand out of the shot so he could give his speech.

He stood there stunned for a moment, staring down at the statue and over to his wife. He truly had not thought he would win. So few directors receive the honor in their lifetime, let alone for their first movie. And a sports movie at that? He was shocked to be nominated. He truly had simply enjoyed the journey of being a nominee and was resigned to being nothing more. He had not even written a speech just in case. However, tonight was simply further proof that the only person ever putting limitations on his dreams was him. Tonight, he held the highest honor one could receive in his profession in his hand and it filled him with a pride he had never known.

"Wow… Els… this is something else. Um… first I want to thank God, without him I wouldn’t be able to be here and do what I love day and day out. I want to thank my parents, who made it possible for a young man from New Jersey to be in and make movies and make it to this stage tonight. You both always encouraged me to follow my dreams and my passions, I’ll never be able to repay you for that." There was a light applause and cheering at the heartfelt tribute to his parents.

"I want to thank everyone involved in this project - from the entire crew to my amazing cast, particularly Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan, Jonathan Majors, and Mila Davis Kent - I wouldn't be up here without you all. Thank you for putting your heart, soul and dedication into this project and showcasing the importance of vulnerability, love, and family in this film. Thank you to every director who has inspired me and helped me in this journey… Ryan, Stephen, Denzel… you all gave me so much insight and support throughout this process and I couldn’t be more appreciative.

"Lastly… I want to thank my wife, the love of my life, mother of my children. Els… whew," he paused as a wave of emotion hit him. He turned away from the audience to look at Charlotte, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Everyday with you is a gift and a blessing. From the day I met you at a chemistry test for Creed to today, you’ve pushed me to be the best version of myself, to take risks, and to chase dreams that felt impossible. You love so fiercely and with your whole soul and that has sustained me through it all. My greatest role in this life is being your husband and partner on screen and off.” He paused and gestured to the award and said, “When I think about what Adonis Creed and this franchise have brought to my life, the first thing I think is that it brought me to you. And for that, I’m forever grateful. I love you to the moon and back a hundred times over again, honey bee.” His voice broke slightly as he voiced his immense admiration for his wife, who could not try to hid the tears streaming down her face even if she wanted to.

"Thank y’all!" Michael raised the small statue up before walking toward Charlotte.

***

“Damn I’m exhausted,” Michael muttered as he unzipped Charlotte’s jumpsuit in their hotel room. He was happy they decided to just stay in their hotel for the night, his parents having offered to babysit. The drive back to their house at 4 am would have been hell after all the liquor the pair had at the two Oscars after parties.

“I knowwwww. You were the life of the party tonight. Didn’t realize you could party that hard at your age, old man,” she teased causing him to chuckle.

“You weren’t calling me old man last night,” he joked.

“Hate you!” She called from the bathroom as she hung her jumpsuit up in its garment bag. “Law already sent me a couple photos from the Vanity Fair red carpet. Said people are calling us the best dressed couple of the night. But I really want our photo booth photos from Jay and Bey’s. Those were so cute. I think we should get a couple framed for the house.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Michael shed his clothes and stretched back on the bed. His eyes drank in his wife as she walked around their suite in nothing but her lingerie.

“Liking the view?” She teased as she grabbed her pajamas.

“Always.”

“Well… as an Oscar winner, I recall someone once telling me that you get anything you want.” Michael smiled and nodded as she reminded him of what he told her the night she won. She sauntered over to him and slid down to her knees. “So, what do you want, Mr. Jordan?”

He slid his boxers down and gestured toward his manhood. He knew he did not have to say it, she already knew. And he knew she would likely enjoy the task just as much, if not more, than he did.

Charlotte’s mouth watered at the sight. Michael spent a great deal of time worshipping her body during sex, however, she was a giver too so she loved any excuse to fall to her knees and suck her husband’s dick. She took half of him into her mouth, her tongue rolling over his tip. She savored the taste of him as she moaned around his dick, the vibrations causing a moan to escape his lips.

She took her time with her task, massaging, licking and teasing the sensitive spots that would elicit the greatest response from the love of her life. People said sex would grow stall years into a marriage. However, Charlotte and Michael found that theirs only continued to improve as they knew exactly what the other needed.

She took a deep breath before taking him as far as she could into her throat. She relished in the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat and the praise that came with it as she took him as deep as she could. She felt her own desire pool between her legs as she listened to his moans and outpourings of adoration and praise.

“F-fuck… that’s it baby. Feels so… fucking good,” he breathed, his fingers tangled themselves in her long hair as he fucked her mouth. She loved this part, relinquishing control to him so he could fuck her as he desired.

And though his wife’s ministrations felt like pure bliss, all he wanted was to be buried deep inside her. He sat up and let his dick fall from her mouth, her lips immediately curling into a cute pout. He knew she was hoping he would cum down her throat but he didn’t want that tonight.

“I wasn’t doneeeee,” she whined playfully.

He merely laughed and helped her to her feet.

“Get on the bed, baby. You said whatever I want, remember?”

She could not and would not argue with that. “How do you want me then, love?” She knew the answer before it left his mouth.

“You know what I want, baby. Deep arch like I like it.”

Charlotte could’ve orgasmed right then and there at the command in his voice. She immediately moved and got on all fours on their bed, assuming his favorite position: face and chest down, ass up. She moaned as she felt a featherlike touch against her clit.

“P-please,” she whimpered, her need for him to stick something in her growing to painful levels.

“What do you want, baby? Want me to fuck you?”

She nodded fervently, her need clear in every syllable. “Y-Yes… please. I need you.”

As she felt him line himself up with her entrance, she almost willed him to ram it into her. She gasped and buried her head deep into the bed as he pushed into her. Her fingers clutched the white comforter tightly as she felt him fill her, a feeling that never got old, a high that she would chase day after day after day.

“You like that baby?” He asked as his hips started a relentless pace as he fucked her.

She could barely formulate words to answer him as she got lost in the pleasure he gave her. The only sounds filling their suite were the sounds of his hips smacking into her ass and her constant and loud moans.

She yelped as he smacked her across the ass, the sharp bite of pain pushing her closer and closer to her orgasm.

“I said, do you like that?”

“Y-Yes… fuck… I-I love you so much. D-don’t stop.”

An unnecessary direction because Michael had no intention of stopping. They could catch up on sleep tomorrow. Tonight? He planned on fucking his wife senseless until the Sun was back shining bright in the sky. After all, an Oscar winner gets whatever they want.

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie

#michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan smut #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan #creed 3 #creed iii #black panther #black writers #Michael b Jordan x oc #Michael b Jordan fanfic #adonis creed

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catfuyus · 1 year

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GOOD GUY F*CKS BAD GIRL ft. SHOUTO TODOROKI

▹ NOTE. second time’s the charm (word count: 2.8k)

▹ WARNING. pornstar!au, sex on camera, this is filthy, fingering, sloppy sex, ass play, anal, oral (fem receiving), etc, minors dni

▹ SUMMARY. recently famous model shouto todoroki turns pornstar for the chance to meet you

It’s a big house somewhere in Beverly Hills. It’s easy to rent larger mansions out here, and the building your crew had selected was famous for filming. The marble floors were heated. The kitchen was filled with energy giving fruits. And you were clad in nothing but your underwear, makeup crew gingerly touching up your face.

It would’ve been a perfectly normal scene had it not been for the handsome stranger next to you. Tall. Broad and well defined. Muscular. He smells nice. Something woodsy and wintery, but not overbearing in the slightest. He was also stripped down to his boxers as a member of the staff went over the rules with him.

He would’ve been another perfect addition to your mile long list of hottie conquests, had it not been for his two tone hair. White on one side, red on the other. Heterochromatic eyes. IcyHot.

One of the newest models in advertising clearly enjoying his ten seconds of fame. His two tone hair and eyes, handsome face and gorgeous body had girls all over the world fawning over him. His selling of the post workout heating coolant had given him a catchy nickname that stuck.

But the porn industry isn’t modeling. And it only meant one thing for you. You’d be working with an amateur today.

“Why are you even here?” You scoff once the crew member is done going over the rules with him and once he wanders aimlessly to your side. “Aren’t you big in advertising, IcyHot?”

His eyes stay politely fixed on your face, completely unfazed by the black set of lingerie you’re displayed in. “Yes, a lot of people really seemed to like the way I looked in that commercial.”

A beat of silence passes as he waits for someone to lightly spray you with perfume. Waiting for them to bounce away before replying. “A lot of people commented that they wanted to see me naked, but I’m really here because I want to fuck you.”

“What?” You falter. His face is expressionless, maybe a bit surprised with how you’re reacting. But you’ve heated up. Completely embarrassed and caught off guard and embarrassed about being caught off guard because the guy you’re about to have sex with just confessed that he wants to fuck you.

He chuckles then. Gives you an unexpectedly fond smile before the camera man is calling the two of you into the bedroom.

You hop beside him in bed and lean against the bed frame with the camera pointed right at you. The cameraman asks the two of you to state your names (which get bleeped out) and declare that you are both sober and willing participants.

The cameraman starts asking Todoroki a few casual questions. “This is our favorite model’s first time in a porno, right?” The tone is light and teasing, expectant of his gorgeous actor.

“Yes.”

Todoroki is icy with his reply. Doesn’t smile or return any of the energy the director gives him. Even sits with his hands in his lap while you stare at his face right beside him. Doesn’t he know this is the time to be getting warmed up?

The director laughs awkwardly and brings up Todoroki’s excited fans, and you giggle on queue, playing your part. To make up for Todoroki’s short comings, you stretch one bare leg out towards the camera, keep the other tucked beneath you as you turn your body towards the man and place a calculated hand on his thigh.

“Whoa, enough talk, huh?” He chuckles, “looks like she’s ready to go. You sure you can handle her, IcyHot?”

He turns to face you before he replies. Looks into your face, face soft though not giving anything away, and says Yes.

And though it’s the same short reply he gave the cameraman earlier, your cheeks are burning up. Breath caught in your lungs before the director asks that you start with a kiss.

He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you close. Pulls you right to his lips, and kisses you. Hard. Moving in slow sync to your own as your hands explore his bare chest. Every ridge of his muscles, the dip of his collar bones, his arms. Hard as steel and gripping your jaw. Keeping you locked in place for when he slips his tongue in. And you let out a soft moan. He tastes good. He knows how to use it. And you grind in his lap as you imagine where else he’ll tease you with his tongue.

A curious hand wanders down his chest, to the waistband of his boxers before you grip him through the fabric. He’s hard, and he grunts with your grip. Bites your lip when you give him a teasing stroke.

And then he knocks you back.

You giggle up at him, at his massive form, watching as he takes your knees and spreads you open.

“Not so fast,” he runs his hands up and down your legs, “I wanna take my time with you,” and with a firm grip to your thighs, flips you onto your stomach effortlessly and roughly spanks your ass. “Ass up.”

You weren’t expecting the golden boy to be so rough, lifting your hips off the mattress with a smirk pressed into the sheets.

He rubs your ass cheeks and runs his hands down your spine. Unclasping your bra and slowly pulling the straps off your shoulders. Only finding the seam of your panties when a firm hand wraps around the back of your neck, keeping you pinned in place. With the fingers of his other hand at your hips, he slowly grinds into your ass. “Want me to take these off?”

Yes, you whisper, grinding back into him.

He chuckles. Low and deep. And it excites you deep in your stomach.

He uses both hands to slowly slide the fabric over your hips, over the globe of your ass, watching as a string of your arousal clings to the fabric and breaks as he pulls it away. And he moans as he ghosts two fingers over your entrance, hand coming away slick though you’ve barely been touched.

“Keep your back arched for me.”

It’s your only instruction before you feel his warm tongue on your cunt. Teasing, exploring your clit with the tip of his tongue before moving to your quivering entrance. Circling, before plunging in. Both hands on your ass cheeks spreading you wide for him, he gives heavy licks to your cunt before sucking on your clit. Rubbing his tongue against the sensitive nerve before pushing the pink muscle into your body.

You grind back against his face, mouth agape in mindless concentration. Chasing the points that feel best. Praying for him to suck on your clit again and coat his whole mouth with your taste. You’re sloppy and soaked by the time he sinks a finger in. Pumping it in and out of you roughly as his thumb ghosts over your clit. Forcing you to arch back into him for more, for it to go deeper, for more sensation, greedily sucking in everything he gives you.

His tongue finds the rim of your ass. Spreads his spit all over you. When he finds that your little hole is too tight, he moves his middle finger out of your cunt and collects your juices, spreading it up to your dirty hole and massaging in pleasurable circles.

He plays with your clit with his tongue. Switching from quick movements to fat licks, letting you ride his face until you feel it. The accumulation of his efforts, all bundling into a tall stack of cards, just a breath away from being blown down.

You’ve been moaning. You only just notice as your voice gets louder, a sound of surprise and pleasure escaping your lungs. And he knows it. Monitoring your every reaction. Every hip grind and back arch. And when he feels your body on the cusp of release, he pushes his finger past that ring of muscle.

“Ohhh…!” You gasp as you cum, body shaking as he fucks his finger into your ass. “Oh…” shivers run down your spine as your crest of pleasure bleeds into the next, a sudden, mindless rush of need forcing you to roughly bounce back on that finger. Cunt empty and desperately clenching against nothing.

Todoroki has the audacity to chuckle. “I knew you’d like that,” he kisses your back as his other hand comes around to play with your fluttering pussy. “I’ve watched your videos so many times…I always wanted to be the one to make you do that.”

You whine when he pulls his hands away. Relieved when you finally hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper.

“I don’t really have to use this, do I?” You hear his voice behind you. You lift your upper body off the mattress to turn to him to reply, only to see him directing the question at the cameraman.

“You’re good, it’s not in her contract.”

“Hmm?” You hum before your face is forced back into the mattress. He kisses the back of your head as he presses his hard dick against your ass. The excitement of almost getting stuffed emptying your mind from everything else.

“Good,” he moans into your ear as he coats his cock with your slick, “I want to fuck you raw.”

A dreamy moan is your only response, grinding back onto his dick as he lifts himself off your body to grab his shaft. Rubbing the mushroom head up and down your cunt. Teasing your entrance with just the head of his cock before wandering back down.

When he finally meets you at the entrance, he’s slow. So painfully slow. The pleasure blindingly mind numbing as he slowly starts to fill you up. You sink deeper into pleasure as you realize how terribly thick he is. Arching your back and spreading your legs even more as he consumes every inch of you, and reaching so deep you gasp. He’s in your stomach. The tiniest shake of your hips and you feel every inch of his girth deep inside you. You moan as you fist the sheets. Pant as he holds painfully still. And whimper when you feel his thumb roll over your puckered hole.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long…” he moans as he slowly starts to pull out. Pulling out only half way before fucking back into you.

“Oh my god…” you gasp as he slowly begins to fuck you, rocking you back on his dick. Shouto puckers his lips to form a heavy glob of spit, letting it slowly fall to reach and land on your asshole. The air cold around your tight hole.

He picks up the pace. Starts fucking into you roughly, and your moans can only get louder, less controlled as he bounces you on his cock. Rubbing his wet thumb around your rim, he pushes in to get a better grip on your ass. Squeezing your asscheek as his finger wet with his spit pushes in deeper.

“Ohhh my goddd…!” You gasp, “ugh, shouto…!”

“Uh uh,” he pulls his hand away from your ass in favor of two fingers, stretching you out and curling them as he pauses on fucking you. Stretching you out as your body struggles to adjust to an empty cunt. “You only wanted to call me IcyHot earlier, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” you whine, “god, you feel so good…”

He spanks your ass with his free hand and smirks when you yelp. “I feel so good, what?”

“I can’t say it,” your voice is hardly a breathy moan as you try to negotiate. “I’m not saying it..”

He hums thoughtfully, rubbing his hardened dick against the cheek of your ass instead of giving you any more stimulation. “Do you really deserve my cock then?”

“No,” you whine in confession, bringing your own hand under your body to rub messy circles against your clit. “But maybe I don’t need it.”

In one fluid motion he flips you over again. Pinning your arms over your head as he hovers over you. In all your time with your face shoved against the mattress, you had forgotten how gorgeous he was. How truly handsome that jawline and piercing eyes made him.

“That’s not very nice.”

“Nice girls don’t do porn,” you smirked back at him.

He kissed you, hard, passionately, moving his lips desperately against yours. Slipping his tongue into your mouth and forcing your taste on you. The sweetness mingling with his spit to create an intoxicating combination before he’s grinding against you again, hips rutting into your own in heady eagerness.

“Fuck me,” you beg when he breaks the kiss to kiss down your neck. Sucking harsh spots into the flesh. “Please, I need it…”

His kisses trail down your neck between your breasts. Licking and sucking at your nipples. Squeezing your breast in even more stimulation. Your legs wrap around his waist tightly. They would rub together for the tiniest bit of relief if his body wasn’t in the way. So you squeeze around him, arms thrown over his shoulders, in a desperate plea to be fucked until Shouto’s own pants and moans betray him.

“Where?” He moans at another sinful roll of your hips.

“Anywhere, please, anywhere.”

He lifts your hips with two large hands and plants your thighs over his own. You’re soaking wet everywhere, and he’s still coated in all your slick from the grinding. With a hand on his cock, he curves over you to meet his lips to yours. Press into you in a soft kiss before pushing the head of his cock into your tight ass, forcing a gasp out of your lungs that he swallows into his own.

“Ugh, god you’re so tight…” he moans it like a prayer, eyebrows furrowed in desperate pleasure as he slides more and more of his length into your tight little hole.

“Ohmygodohmygod…” you pant out hurriedly, hips stuttering as your body plunges you into an unexpected orgasm. “Please don’t stop, pleaseplease” and you cum, body spasming underneath Shouto’s as the blissful wave sends you over the edge, tingling your every nerve as it spreads through your body.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he moans, holding you tightly before shuddering in his own release. Pumping his cum into your ass with every deep thrust, coating your insides in overflowing hot cum as he breeds your ass like a bull. “Ugh,” he shakes as he finally stills, still plugging your ass to keep any more cum from leaking out. You can feel the excess dripping down onto the sheets below.

“Don’t think I’m done with you,” he pants as he glares at you with his mismatched eyes. “I’m not stopping until I’ve done that to both your holes.”

Your body shudders at his words, pussy fluttering around nothing, and you know you still need it too.

“Cut!” The director startles you from beside the bed. Shouto subconsciously covers your body with his own before remembering you’re both on display for the camera.

“Why don’t ya give us the money shot, IcyHot?” He chuckles.

Shouto reluctantly pulls back to allow for a full camera view. Your naked and lewd body on full display, blossoming hickeys and soaked skin zoomed in for the camera, and finally, your sloppy cunt destroyed by the gorgeous man himself. His cum oozing slowly out of your ass.

“Glazed her ass like a donut!” He chuckles before turning the camera back to shouto, putting his muscular body on display as well. “Great job, IcyHot!”

Some vile emotion snakes it’s way down Shouto’s throat. He’s not sure what he’s feeling. But he’s glaring at the cameraman. Unwilling to the hit the showers just yet.

“Wait,” your sultry voice reaches out to both the men. You’re still on your back, stretching slowly in blissed out relaxation. “We’re not done yet,” you smile up at Shouto, meeting his irritation with playful bedroom eyes. “Don’t you wanna see more?”

The director laughs and runs a hand through his thinning hair, “uh, yeah I wanna see more! If you two crazy kids got anything left in the tank. We’ll take a quick break, rehydrate and fuel up, and uh, if you two are willing, I got plenty more to shoot.”

You gingerly ease into sitting up, ignoring the inevitable wet spot that’ll be there on the bed once you get up. “That sounds good to me, what about you, IcyHot?”

Shouto smirks at the nickname. He’s been called it millions of times ever since that commercial, but somehow it feels that it’s found it’s rightful home on your tongue.

He rubs his thumb against your cheek as you sit on the edge of the bed looking up at him with ruined makeup. He still hasn’t stuffed your pretty face with his cock. There’s still so much that he has to do to you. “Yeah, quick break,” he resigns, resting the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip. “And then I’ll show you how to put that pretty mouth to good use.”

#shouto todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto smut #todoroki smut #shouto todoroki smut #mha smut #todoroki x you #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x you

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 8 months

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Kaiju Week in Review (September 3-9, 2023)

I was a bit nervous about GAMERA -Rebirth-; the animation looked dodgy and Netflix has a shaky track record with kaiju shows. I'm pleased to report this is the best entry in the genre that they've put their name on. Good characters, great action (brutal as always), and actual episodic storytelling that effortlessly weaves in elements from the Showa films beyond all the returning kaiju. Watch it immediately.

Tie-ins abound for GAMERA -Rebirth-: a two-part novelization, a manga adaptation, and a prequel manga that sheds some light on [UNBELIEVABLY MASSIVE SPOILERS]. That prequel manga (GAMERA -Rebirth- code thyrsos) is being published online for free in both Japanese and English. You can read the first chapter here.

In unofficial translation news, English subtitles for GAMERA.1999 (1999) and yokaipedia (2022) are now available. The former is Hideaki Anno's making-of documentary for Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris; the latter is a fun, child-friendly fantasy from Godzilla Minus One director Takashi Yamazaki with a big ol' centipede-dragon at the end. (It's also maybe the first Japanese kaiju film I've ever seen with a major Black character.) I haven't gotten to GAMERA.1999 yet, though from scrubbing through it, it seems like a lot of dialogue was just ignored by the translator. Shame, as that's one I've wanted for a long time.

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We have a teaser for Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, as well as a premiere date for the first two (out of ten) episodes: November 17. (I am being showered with Media for my 30th birthday.) The big news from this trailer is that John Goodman is reprising his role as Bill Randa from Kong: Skull Island. I assume that's going to be through flashbacks and old recordings only, since he was eaten by a Skullcrawler in that one. We also catch glimpses of two new creatures, a dragon and a crab from what I can tell. The latter looks to be fighting a Mother Longlegs.

Fandango and AMC have added mostly-empty listings for Godzilla 2000 on November 1. Fathom Events screened Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla on November 3 last year; despite randomly showing Tokyo SOS back in March, I gather they're making a tradition out of Godzilla Day. Note that the listed runtime is longer than the film itself. Predictions for the program: another message from Keiji Ota, the 2022 Godzilla vs. Gigan short, and the Japanese version of G2K. Interesting that they're running the last Toho Godzilla film to receive a wide release in the U.S. exactly a month before Godzilla Minus One has a wide release of its own here.

Gamera isn't a meta-defining Godzilla Battle Line unit... but he's Gamera in a Godzilla game, so I've been using him in every match since I unlocked him. He's gearing towards demolishing flying units, with fireballs that deal more damage against them and knock them back. A pity that he's arriving well after those units were at their most dominant.

Godzilla: Here There Be Dragons #3 still isn't giving me much to write home about, but the kaiju cult creeping to the forefront intrigues. Also cool to see Ebirah in a starring role.

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Marubeni, one of Japan's biggest general trading companies, put out a bizarre commercial featuring samurai, zombies, a meteor, and a refurbished GMK King Ghidorah. The ad now has English subtitles, and you can watch a Ghidorah-centric behind-the-scenes video here.

I cannot believe I have more Cleopatra Entertainment fuckery to report on with regards to their Shin Ultraman releases, but they're truly trying to take the "Worst Film Company of 2023" title from the members of the AMPTP. Their third attempt at a barebones disc is starting to reach customers... but the ones who already received the initial replacement disc are being told no more will be sent. @starestream is trying to figure out if they'll be selling the third edition on their site, since it seems buying it anywhere else is a gamble. (Physically, the third edition looks almost the same as the first two, set apart only by the "SUBTITLED" text on the disc.) Either way, it's another blow to a movie that truly doesn't deserve this.

#kaiju week in review #gamera #gamera rebirth #godzilla #kaiju #yokaipedia #Youtube

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