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finniestoncrane · 5 months

Note

Kink Dialogue Prompts - If you fancy, any of the following with Egon Spengler (Receiving?) :3c:

🌱 Virginity, 🥇 First Time, ✏️ Marking/Bititng, 🩺 Doctor RP (Giving), 🔴 Humiliation

Experimental Methods

Egon Spengler x Female!Reader, word count: 3.5k HELLO!? finally another excuse to write nasty again for egon, my fuckin beloved ;-; also i have been COOKING this one and it got away from me so it is LONG lmao mostly because i didn't realise you said any of and not all of the prompts oops and then i also added in prem.ejac. my actual beloved👻 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: medical kink, losing virginity, marking kink, humiliation kink, premature ejaculation

The walk from the elevator to your apartment door at the end of the hall felt like it took an eternity, definitely down to the dead silence between you and Egon which had been ongoing since the moment you left the restaurant down the block. He was often quite quiet once a date had ended, but this was different. There was a distinctly awkward air to the way he shuffled uncomfortably along beside you, and the soft sigh he had let out as he agreed to walk you to your door didn't exactly settle your nerves. That discomfort in the pit of your stomach was only exacerbated by the way he avoided all eye contact once you had placed the key in the lock, and stood, turned to him, as you held the door ajar. "Egon, I think you should come in so we can talk."

"Talk?"

"Mhm."

You nodded solemnly as you headed inside. He was a sweet man, very kind, very straight to the point. Besides the very limited bursts of anger you had seen him display at questioning skeptics and otherwise disinterested city officials, you couldn't imagine him wanting to harm anyone. So you had to be the one to broach the subject, since it seemed like he never would.

Once inside, you watched him make his way to the sofa, sitting on the very edge with his hands placed on his knees, palms rubbing nervously at the woolen fabric. When you were sitting beside him, you could hear his shallow breathing and the sound of him swallowing his nerves. As much as you were apprehensive about this converation, it spurred you on to know you were putting him out of his misery.

"Look, Egon. I know you're a sweet guy, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable just so you don't hurt my feelings. If you don't want to see me anymore in a... romantic way... then we don't have to."

"What?"

"We can meet for coffee or go out for food alone or with other people, but as friends, y'know?"

"Yes. That is generally something we can do. I appreciate your time, and for being so forward with your feelings. If there's anything I can do to change your mind then-"

You raised your hands up, shaking your head in confusion.

"Wait, wait, wait. Change my mind? I... I'm not breaking up with you, Egon. I'm making it easier for you to break up with me."

His face was blank, except for the slight hint of confusion, and you could almost hear the gears of his mind grinding away as he puzzled over where you got the notion that he might want to break up with you. It didn't take him long though. He wasn't oblivious. The evidence was definitely piling up, although the intentions behind it had been lost in translation.

"I don't want to break up with you. I enjoy spending time with you. We share a lot of the same attributes in common and you are extremely tolerable of any discussions about my various interests."

"How romantic."

You smiled, emphasising the playful tone of your slight dig.

"And of course, I find you attractive. Very appealing, physically as well as emotionally and intellectually. Which is precisely the problem."

Egon sat in silence for a few moments, as though he expected you to psychically glean what he meant by that statement, waiting on your response. But when it was apparent that you had none, he took a deep breath and continued.

"This is our fifth date. I expect that you'll want to have sexual relations, or at least some form of physical contact beyond what we've experienced thus far."

Your eyes widened, surprised by how blunt he was, if not more technical or formal than you expected, and you stumbled over your words.

"I, uh... w-well, that would be nice! But, if that's not your thing then of course we don't have to."

Shocking you both, he abruptly removed his hand from his own leg and placed it on your knee, both of you looking at it before he snatched it back.

"I want to, of course. But, speaking openly, I haven't ever experienced that. Yet. With anyone."

In absolute disbelief, you blinked as your body moved backwards a little, your nose twitching, raising your mouth in a curious and surprised sneer.

"You're a virgin? You. Are a virgin. You?"

"Does that factual statement require this much questioning?"

"A little bit, yeah! I mean... I would've been all over you four dates ago if you'd seemed a bit more at ease with it. I don't know how you've gone forty years without someone-"

He interrupted you with a slight frown, lips pursed as he waved you off before he spoke.

"I've spurned a few advances, but believe it or not, there's something about my personality that other find rather..."

"Abrupt. Formal. Disinterested?"

Egon nodded in agreement, very well aware that you used the words with no hint of criticism or negativity, but rather truthfully, and, oddly enough to him, with an almost loving tone.

"And yet you find those attributes appealing."

"Of course! They come in a very nice package."

You leaned into him, placing your hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently between your fingers as you edged closer to him on the sofa. He watched your fingers moving, eyes closing as he took in the sesation of the touch. Even that smallest gesture was enough to excite him. Your hand, moving further up his long, slender leg, fingers tensing into the muscle and releasing their grip as your palm snaked higher and higher, closer and closer.

"Oh, ok. You definitely are interested then..."

It was impossible not to notice the distinct bulging at the front of his slacks, and you felt immediately bad for pointing it out, but Egon smiled, nervously adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat.

"I wouldn't have lied to you. Besides, I knew the biological response would betray me eventually. I'm only lucky to have gone this long with the problem arising, for want of a better word."

Taking stock of the situation, you considered the next steps. You didn't want to rush him, by any means, but you didn't want to let the opportunity go to waste. An intimate conversation could lead to a more intimate encounter, and that was definitely what you had been hoping for tonight.

"Egon, we can do whatever you want tonight. You can go home, with no hard feelings, and we can continue dating and wait until you're ready. Or we can give it a go. If you want to stop, we can. But I think this could be a nice experience for us, as a... couple. Let me guide you through this. I'll be very gentle, unless of course you tell me otherwise."

His face lit up with a warm smile, clearly in appreciation of your gentle offer and your efforts to make light of what was most definitely an awkward conversation. Still, though, he seemed too nervous to speak much, so the ball was once again in your court.

"Ok, so... is it the skills involved that are causing you problems? Or...?"

"I suppose so, but like most other things, you gain experience with practice..."

Your stomach flipped in excitement, a heat prickling over your skin at the notion that you might be involved in this practice.

"... It's an area I haven't really been involved with before. It's not as though you're something to study, to examine and figure out."

"That's... exactly what it's like, actually."

"Hm."

"I mean, that's what it could be. If that makes things easier for you. Maybe a little bit of roleplay, putting you in a position of control that you're familiar with... maybe that would make it a bit easier for you?"

Egon paused for a moment, considering your suggestion with a hopeful look, nodding silently before he spoke.

"Your hypothesis is intriguing, and I do think it would be beneficial to at least test it in an experiment before we rule it out completely as a possible solution. If... if you're sure...?"

Placing your hand over his, you squeezed it, reassuringly, as you leaned in to him.

"It's a new experience, yes. But don't worry, I'll help you through it... Doctor."

His eyes lit up, a fire suddenly burning in the pit of his stomach. Standing from the sofa, he took your hand and brought you up to him. Egon's eyes flitted towards the door to your bedroom.

"In that case then, please come with me and we can begin this examination."

You reached for his hand, hoping he'd guide you romantically to the privacy of your bedroom, but he was already fast ahead of you, his long limbs gaining the distance with his wide strides as you hurried excitedly into the room behind him.

"Now, if you'll lie back on the bed, please, and take a deep breath. Let me take care of you. I'm sure that whatever is wrong, I can provide some assistance."

Obedient, and with a level of excitement you weren't afraid to show, you bounced onto the mattress and laid back, inhaling and exhaling slowly and carefully as you listened to Egon pacing around the bed, finding the best place to conduct his examination. Standing on your right, looking down at you, you watched as he procured a small notepad and almost pointlessly short pencil from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"I think we should begin by noting the first examples you found of paranormal occurrences. Were the internal or external?"

Narrowing your eyes in confusion, you tried to think of an answer to the question, but before you could find a suitable one he had moved on to the next.

"If neither of those are pertinent to your experience, can you tell me if you had any sensations or evidence of being posessed?"

"What? Egon, what are you talking about?"

Blinking twice, he lowered himself to you, bending at the hip, and whispering in a lower voice as though he were trying not to break the roleplay experience.

"This is my area of expertise. The paranormal. I am examining you as a doctor of such, so... are you experiencing anything paranormal?"

Quickly catching on, you mustered up a few symptoms for him to use in his diagnosis.

"Oh... uh... yes! Well, Doctor Spengler, the reason I came to see you is that I've had a strange onset of problems, ones no ordinary doctor could diagnose. I think you might be my only hope now."

Reaching out, you took his hand in yours and squeezed, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"And what might these symptoms be?"

"Well, I'm not sure if they're all related, but I do know that I've been feeling very irritable lately. Completely exhausted and filled with stress and tension. It's like there's something inside of me that I just need to get out, something that's controlling my behaviour."

"It sounds like you might need a formal adjuration addressed to the demonic presence that has decided to utilise you as its host."

"I need a what?"

"In layman's terms, an exorcism."

"Ah! Wow, that sounds very serious, Doctor Spengler."

The way you spoke his name, each consonant, each syllable, lingering on your lips and tongues, lustful and seductive, had him clearing his throat and swallowing the building, shaking nerves that it conjured.

"It can be. Could you detail when you feel these symptoms for me?"

"Hm... they mostly surface when I'm around my boyfriend. He's real neat, I think you'd like him. He's so intelligent, so sweet, and he's super hot."

"Ahem... he sounds, delightful."

"You don't think the demon, or whatever is inside of me, is targeting him, do you, Doctor Spengler?"

You forced a concerned pout onto your lips, looking up at Egon through your batting eyelashses as you watched him try to recover from not only the insinuation that he was hot, but that you considered him to be your boyfriend.

"I see... then I believe that perhaps this is not anything paranormal but very natural. I think a release of tension, of a more physical or... coital nature, is the required prescription here."

With his cheeks flushing at the mere mention of sexual activity, Egon adjusted his glasses once more as he avoided eye contact with you.

"Oh, thank you, Doctor Spengler! So... what should I do about this predicament? Do you think you could maybe administer the correct dosage for me? Perhaps we can do the procedure here?"

The deep red blush seeped further across Egon's skin, his pupils wider than you'd seen them before. Quickly, and with no attempt to do so discreetly, he moved his hands down in front of him, holding the notepad strategically in front of his pants.

"Are you hiding something down there, Doctor Spengler?"

Egon stuttered, dropping the note pad before bending to catch it swiftly, the tent at the front of his slacks visible for only a brief moment, but long enough that you could ascertain what he was working with below the tweed and formality.

"I-I-I'm... I-it's... I apologise, I didn't mean to rush things by getting ahead of myself. This is embarrassing."

"Oh, come on, Egon! You know as well as I do that it's a natural reaction. If you're going to be ashamed of anything, I would say it should be how easy it was to get you as flustered as you are... I mean look at your cheeks! Tell me... is any other part of you blushing pink?"

The silence was almost deafening, and he was once again unable to look into your eyes. Fearing you had taken it a little too far in your taunting, given it was his first time, you were quick to apologise, sitting up on the bed and holding his arm. But he brushed you off, working on his nervous habit of fiddling with the legs of his glasses as he replied.

"No need to apologise, I'm just quietly reconciling the facts. Yes, it was embarrassing, but your taunting made it worth it. It definitely played a fact in the increase in arousal, it would be a fascinating thing to study if I had any spare time. I'd even suggest that we experiment with that more this evening, but I'm worried it might lead to a quick conclusion to our combined efforts if the external stimuli is too... well, stimulating."

"How about we just remember that you're into it and add it to our list, hm?"

"We have a list?"

You eased yourself up onto your knees on the bed, holding on to the lapels of Egon's suit jacket as you watched his Adam's apple bob, his chest rising and falling as your hands soothed over his body.

"Now we do."

Your lips met his in a soft, interlocking embrace, with Egon catching on quickly after a sharp inhale. You could feel his smile against yours as the passion deepened, his hands falling to your sides as he held you steady as you balanced yourself against his surprisingly sturdy frame. Letting out a deep sigh as his hands curled around you, his palms flat against your spine as he stroked up and down, you found yourself leaning into him more, fingers pressing into the back of his neck as you kept him kissing you.

One of your hands pushed into his thick, tight curls as the other drifted back around and down his front, your fingers skirting over the buckle of his belt and hooking just below it, tugging his hips towards you. He came easily, putting up no resistance to your desire to have him closer to you.

Egon's breath haltered as he watched you in stunned silence, your fingers expertly, and quickly, unbuckling his belt and slowly, deftly, unzipping his pants. Looking up to him to make sure he was still on board, you caught his eyes, pupils wide, behind the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses. In response to the question you hadn't asked yet, you caught out of your peripheral the slight twitch of his cock, waiting impatiently for your touch.

As seductively as you could, you pulled his slacks down slightly, enough that you could hook your thumbs into the waistband of his white, y-fronts, watching as more of his cock was revealed until it sprang over the top.

He was an impressive length, and a thickness you could get used to with some practice. Looking at it, you considered that was probably why he so often wore looser slacks, given there was a lot for him to attempt to conceal. Without even realising it, you had begun to lick your lips, trying not to drool over yourself. So, to satiate your growing hunger, you wrapped your palm around the base of his length and began to stroke it.

Your movements were gentle, not too slow but not too fast. You were sure he had experienced some level of physical intimacy before, and he couldn't have gone forty years without some level of masturbation. Surely... but there was always a chance...

Either way, your ministrations against his thickening length had it pulsing and throbbing against the flat of your hand as you dragged it up and down, stroking his cock in rhythym with his breathing and matching the pace of his subconscious and almost imperceptible thrusting.

Despite having a grown man under your power, you were still preoccupied with his comfort, worried that you were moving things too quickly. So to counter your concerns, and keep things as pleasant as possible for you both, you took to looking deep into his eyes, past the lenses of his round frames. It was a piercing stare, one that was uncomfortable for only a moment before it deepened the intimacy, letting you see him in a completely new light as his jaw hung open and his tongue lapped at the air. You couldn't help but smile back at the lopsided grin he wore, your heartbeat unsteadied by the mere suggestion that you were making him happy.

A small, sultry giggle escaped your throat, and Egon groaned in reply, bucking his hips forward,standing on tiptoe and shuddering as he balanced himself back onto his heels again. Only when you felt the cooling of the warm liquid spread over your fingers did you realise what had happened.

With a quick glance down, you could see the last threads of cum spilling ont your hand from the flushed, pink head of Egon's cock. Drops and strands dripped down your knuckles, and as you loosened your grip, the action accompanied by a soft whimper from Egon, you fought the urge to lick your hand clean. There would be opportunities in the future to taste him, right now the priority was to assuage the concern you could see growing on his furrowed brow. You could feel your own underwear soaking in arousal at the idea of pushing Egon to climax so quickly, but he didn't seem to feel the same.

Looking to him, your mischievous grin was quickly contorted into an easy, comforting smile as you stood up and quickly kissed him. If your lips were firm against his, then there was no qay he could finish the entirely unnecessary apology that he was trying to make for what he felt was a speedy response to your touch. Resting your forehead against his, and letting his large nose press into yours, you pulled away from the deep kiss, a slowing tirade of softer ones following it until you were sure he would be quiet.

"It's ok, honestly. There's no need to apologise."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to be a disappointment."

"Hardly! In fact..."

You punctuated each word with a kiss, covering his cheeks, his chin, his neck and his collarbone in them.

"... I think it was pretty hot having that kind of power over you."

When you moved your lip back over his neck, you allowed your teeth to graze across his skin before sinking them in, closing your lips over and sucking at him, feeling his flesh warm in your mouth and delighting in the wet, smacking sound as you let go. With your drool settling in a strand against him, you bit your lip, suddenly a little embarrassed by the very forward nature of the bite. You waited for Egon's approval, or disapproval, of the flurry of affection, giggling when he finally spoke.

"To clarify, that bite was a positive response, yes?"

"Of course! I just wanted to... mark my territory. This way, whenever someone looks at you, they'll know you belong to someone. Just in case anyone else gets any ideas about being your first before I can get to you again."

Egon's fingers twitched, reachign instinctively in that recognisable flustered action to adjust his glasses, one side of his mouth lifted into a coy, but satisfied grin.

#I PUT MY WHOLE PUSSY IN THIS ONE GUYS #egon spengler #egon spengler x reader #ghostbusters egon #ghostbusters #egon spengler fanfic #egon spengler fanfiction #finnie writes

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alittlebitofsainz · 2 months

Text

- you swear that you listened -

prompt: “so take me to every party and just talk to your friends.”

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: why did he even bring you to meet his friends if he was going to forget you even existed? featuring an important conversation and a dog at the party

a/n: lyrics from track #65 - worst of you by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“babe, what’s up with you? you’ve been quiet all night.”

“yeah, maybe it’s cos you didn’t talk to me for the entire time.” you shot back, both your words and tone harsher than you’d intended. logan was silent after that, and you stole a glance across to him sat in the passenger seat, immediately feeling guilty when you saw the wounded look on his face. you turned your gaze back to the road ahead with a heavy sigh.

it wasn’t really your fault that you were in such a bad mood; it had been your first time meeting a bunch of his childhood friends, stressful enough without the added bonus of you being the designated driver, so you had had to watch everyone slowly getting more and more intoxicated while you nursed the same diet coke for three hours straight. you’d offered to stay sober, but only because logan had emphasised that he hadn’t seen these friends in years, and it would be really nice to catch up with them over a beer, and you don’t really drink that much anyway, so you don’t mind driving, right?

“I don’t mind.” you’d said, because you knew logan had been having a tough season, and you wanted nothing more than to see him enjoying himself with his friends. and you. that had been the key part that was missing. you tried to join in on their conversations, you really did, but they were full of stories from the time before you even knew logan, sentences always seeming to start with “do you remember when…”. and every time you tried to speak up, to input something, the topic would change again, someone speaking over the top of you to remind the group of another funny anecdote from their past. you tried to catch logan’s eye, but to no avail, too wrapped up in old memories and the beer in his hand.

eventually you’d made an excuse about going to find the toilet, and disappeared off into a living room that no one was in. you weren’t even sure whether logan had noticed you were gone; you could still hear the ringing of his laughter drifting through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. at the least the dog came to find you. dogs were always the best thing at parties.

the worst part was that you didn’t know how to handle this. it had never happened before, you weren’t used to it. logan was always so attentive, so loving, so caring. he never failed to tell you, or show you, how much you really meant to him, his light shining through the darkness that had been this rollercoaster of a season. but around his friends, he just seemed different. like he’d forgotten you were even there.

the silence lasted the rest of the drive home. you once risked a glance across to logan, but his head was turning away, chin resting in his hand, his elbow propped against the passenger window, looking out at the world passing by as if he was deep in thought. from this angle, you couldn’t read his expression. you didn’t know if you even wanted to.

“I’m sorry, please, y/n, if I’ve done something wrong…”

logan tried again as you entered his apartment, his words slurred slightly, reminding you that now wasn’t time for this conversation when he was several beers deep and you were stone cold sober.

“really, lo, it’s…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it’s fine, so you just shook your head instead. “let’s just talk about it in the morning, okay?” you murmured, catching a glimpse of his crestfallen expression as you passed by him, a sight that made your heart ache. you both got ready for bed without speaking again, the tension in the air uncomfortable.

and when morning rolled around and the sun filtering through the curtains woke you from sleep, you found yourself still reluctant to talk about it. you rolled over, turning to face logan, only to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you.

“you were mad at me.”

you bit back a sarcastic good morning to you too. now was not the time.

“what?” you tried feigning ignorance, voice quiet.

“last night, you were mad at me.” logan repeated, and you realised you weren’t getting out of this one. “why? I don’t get it; did you not have a good time?”

you blinked, letting his word settle in your mind, before your brows folded into a soft frown.

“you didn’t even notice?” you murmured, knowing what the answer would be.

“notice what?” logan’s face scrunched up in confusion, searching back through his memories, desperately trying to remember something specific in the haze of what had happened last night. you sighed. it was the answer you’d been expecting, and dreading.

“I left, like, halfway through. went and sat in the living room. alone.” you explained, trying to spell it out for him. logan’s confused expression deepened.

“w- wha- why?” he stuttered, propping himself up on his elbow, “baby, you should’ve told me if you weren’t having a good-“

“I tried to!” you cut him off sharply, tone growing exasperated, “I tried to, but I couldn’t get your attention. not even for two minutes. it felt like I wasn’t even there.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to argue back with. now that he thought about it, you were right. he had barely noticed you, once he was surrounded by his friends and stories of old times, and he felt fucking awful about it.

“I’m sorry. oh, fuck, babe, I really am sorry.” he stammered, trying to get all his apologies out at once, words tripping out over his tongue. you both appreciated and hated seeing him so remorseful; you knew you couldn’t just let it slide, or it would only happen again and make you feel worse, but at the same time you knew logan was genuinely sorry.

“it’s okay, lo.” you reached out a hand, taking his in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. he drew in a soft breath, as if he expected a fight instead of forgiveness, and when his eyes met yours again they were glistening with unshed tears of remorse, “it was an accident, I know you didn’t mean to. everyone makes mistakes, right? we’re learning together.” you continued, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched him relax slightly, tension leaving his shoulders. he nodded, ducking his head away to try and hide the tear thar had slipped down his cheek.

“right,” he agreed shakily, “I’m still sorry I made you feel forgotten about, really. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” you replied softly, releasing his hand from yours and instead holding out both your arms as a silent invitation. logan was only too happy to accept, shuffling across the bed towards you and burying his head into the crook of your neck, your arms securing around his back. you felt him take a deep breath into your shoulder, chest rising deeply before falling back down again.

“I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, voice muffled as he rested his cheek against your skin. you chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I know. I love you too, Lo.”

a/n: i tried so hard to leave this on a more angsty ending but honestly i just can’t be mean to logan for more than five seconds he deserves happiness even if its just in fictional form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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zangtang · 7 months

Text

Everything can change at any point!

Create images here: https://www.bing.com/images/create?FORM=GENILP before i say anything else though: not following someone else's prompts means you'll likely find some wild and unexpected things yourself. If you follow my prompts like they're laws, you will only ever get results like mine. There are people doing much cooler, weirder things. Don't get restricted by this.

the site was VERY BROKEN for the last 6 days, you haven't been banned. You get 15 boosts a day which usually override any current downtime, but the popup thinks you get 25 a week, which is an indicator of how busted and poorly planned they were for this flood of users. It's not too hard to create illegal results, and there's millions of users, so it's very unlikely a human is ever looking at your results. Unless you're doing really spectacularly terrible things, of course. If you get the warning as soon as you enter your prompt, change the most controversial aspects of your prompt immediately, as repeats of this will get you suspended for increasingly long times. It is possible to make alt accounts with throwaway emails though. It's unconfirmed but it appears that US residents get priority access during US times, and UK residents can only reliably make things from 7am to 1pm for example. Weekend access is a crapshoot. I don't personally pay for ChatGPT so I can't say anything about the alleged priority access you get there, but even that can be slow and restricted during the worst times (I assume this will the their priority to fix though). There are many conflicting reports about whether it's more censored or not. Reports is a very fancy way of saying reddit comments.

Everything I superstitiously guess about prompts:

you can be very descriptive and write in natural english, or you can be very brief. both methods work, I suspect both versions do different things. repetition and restating the same thing in other ways also seems to emphasise (possibly.) Prompts can be quite chaotic and contradictory - you can describe a lot of things happening and it may surprise you, so have fun with weirdness! some words are "heavy" against the automated filters, and can be safe in one prompt and unsafe in another. think of it like buckaroo, the AI is trying to find meaning in your prompt and it will sometimes combine things and get mad about it. be aware of politics and words that may be used in erotic senses, and switch those up.

this is the format I use the most because i am super lazy and unimaginative. items in [ ] are optional and can be anything, and I don't know how the word order matters - in old Midjourney it mattered quite a bit according to guides, but now they're all pushing to parse natural english I'm not so sure:

[number of] [body type] [age] [nationality] [male noun or job] wearing [clothes], with a [size, shape] belly, [hair description], [pose], [location, time of day, weather, lighting, era], [facial expression or attitude], [actions]

The number of guys can be vague like "several." Also placing a number here will generally result in all men being fat. To add a second, very different person (even women! imagine the power), simply describe that in plain english later in the prompt. Try adding "with friends" or something and seeing what happens.

Mentioning body type is separate from mentioning that he has a large stomach because "fat man" alone doesn't make him very fat. also, the body type prompt will dictate his physical build underneath the belly - this allows you to make mpreg very easily, for example. Mentioning his belly separately also seems to be a key part in making clothes not cover it up. However, DallE has clearly gotten much better at this for some clothes, but not all of them. Formalwear is improving, though tactical vests no longer do the cute thing they used to do, and football shirts still ride up reliably. Nationality can be weird, and you can use it to exploit stereotypes, or it can be an eye-opening view of stereotypes from countries you barely know about - want to know what differentiates an Angolan man from a Kenyan man? Probably don't trust AI results! I suspect some countries are controversial due to current politics, and I suspect some are controversial due to fetishy stereotyping. However, if for example "English man" got censored, consider going for capital cities or famous regions, eg "London man." Maybe look up sports teams from that country. I'm a big fan of the "Italian-American" prompt but lately it's gotten quite a few results blocked, so I'd switch to "New Jersey," maybe even "New Jersey Italian."

"Handsome" may slim your results down, or even break the prompt entirely. Consider making your men footballers or rugby players, mention trendy haircuts, or using out of date synonyms to get round it. AI isn't all that likely to give you especially ugly results anyway, particularly if you specify ages under 40. It doesn't get the hair precisely right, but even a generic prompt like "short thick hair" can help. Giving your character a job may dictate what he'll wear, but you might want to specify what clothes you want anyway. Don't mention either if you hope he'll turn out naked. Certain jobs are tricky to use, as AI strains to be as unpolitical as possible - it doesn't want you doing politicians and it sometimes seems to refuse anything that might make the police or military look bad. However, it will accept "wearing a [colour] uniform/pilot shirt" very happily, because it's duuuuumb.

Mention trousers, footwear or even just feet if your results keep zooming in too much. (It'll also zoom in if you mention too much about his face, I think.) Side view appears to make certain prompts fatter, but will often mean he's looking away - you can add "Looking at camera" if you want that. Metallic and plastic clothes can have very fun and weird results, especially if you change the location to a night setting in the rain. Gladiator costumes will reduce his clothes to a few leather straps.

"Flex pose" and "strong pose" will get butch bodybuilder poses (it will also buff up the muscle mass) and "battling strong winds" gets very superhero poses. At least when I was trying these out, I found I couldn't actually get proper bodybuilder poses or mention of superheroes past the censor, but it's been a few weeks so who knows what it's up to now. Give them all a go!

Casual poses and actions can liven things up a little if you just want portraits but don't want it to repeatedly be the same thing facing you directly. Getting out of a car, climbing stairs, leaning against things, adjusting his clothes or putting on a coat, all these kinds of things work. Smoking or drinking does quite a lot. "Tired" or "Exhausted" changes his attitude a lot too, your leans get leaned into more.

Contact words can be a little difficult, so consider ways to exploit using soft contact, or be very wordy and detailed about it so it's not misinterpreting you. "Patting him on the back" is a fairly safe phrase, but DallE isn't intelligent, so it will allow the contact but it will struggle to be precise, especially when the bodies are fat or not positioned in a way they can reach the back - the result of this is that there will be a lot of belly pats. Prodding in the stomach, pointing at the stomach, these both work, but I think DallE is vague about stomach=torso and you may want "pointing at his belt" to give a lower focus. Admiring can direct attention and vibes, whispering will draw their heads closer and make them interact somewhat. Embracing and hugging work but is very heavy for the censor, "hugging on his shoulder/belly" seems safer for some reason. Shaking, grabbing, "examining/concerned about his belly" can work. Bizarrely, squeezing past another man in a narrow corridor/doorway/cupboard works if you want a LOT of contact. And if you want unpredictable contact, fighting can work.

For more dynamic safe contact, try sporting actions. Baseball slides, football tackles, that kind of thing. It's hard to get them to lie flat and the AI seems to resist allowing heads to touch the ground, but "lying in a hammock" works pretty well, and sometimes specifying what the head is touching works. pretty much every minor prompt variation and scenario I've ever used:

"falling onto a broken chair/breaking an object with his weight" "washing windows" "with waiters helping him up" "with friends bringing him food" "falling over another man" "outside of a skyscraper washing windows, harness for safety, hoisted" "hyper-obese man wearing denim dungarees with an enormous inflated belly, drinking from a hose" ("blowing into a hose" gets better expressions for that IMO) "stuck in a broken narrow red british phonebooth with another man, bursting out with his enormous belly, black trousers" "bent over eating at a pie eating contest wearing a dirty white tank top with an enormous round belly and his face hidden buried in messy pie" "sitting on a throne next to a very fat 35 year old spanish monarch" "lying on his back the floor, enjoying a banquet, side view, tired expression" "very fat 35 year old handsome british man wearing tracksuit and gold chain with a hugely distended beerbelly, man with a massive round stomach, washing his car in a carpark at night side view" "at water park, stuck in a water slide" "before and after weightloss picture, in the left he is X and in the right he is Y" "with a large round belly spilled over eating at a banquet with an enormous round belly, bronzed, with waiters helping him up/being prodded with a fork" "washing dishes and leaning over his belly on a freestanding enamel pedestal basin" "climbing and leaning against a stepladder to change a lightbulb on the ceiling [with friend holding the stepladder steady]" "side view, photo of two 40 year old beefy handsome fat italian-american rugby player with a hugely distended round belly, resting hand on his chest, wearing a tracksuit with a gigantic round sagging stomach, gold chain, raining, whispering in a car park at night, leaning/hugging on shoulder, tired, stern expression looking at camera, smoking a cigarette" "side view photo of two strong 40 year old handsome samoan rugby player with a hugely distended round beerbelly, chest hair, wearing a white formal shirt and black suit, hugging on his belly, proud expectant father, boyfriends outside a busy pub at night, stern, looking at camera, raining" "two fat los angeles rams handsome footballers wearing white pilot shirt and plain tie and black trousers pushing through a narrow saloon door with their enormously distended beerbellies, stern" "photo of very fat 30 year old hunk rugby player with enormously distended belly, carrying his belly in a wheelbarrow" "very fat 35 year old man wearing white pilot shirt with an enormous round belly, tough man with a very large beerbelly, too fat for small broken airplane seat sitting on another man, fat belly spilling over armrest and pressing against over man, black trousers, slightly concerned, suave" "being carried on the back of a flatbed truck" can turn them into horrific lardvalanches but you don't get much control over it

original characters do not steal prompts: "30 year old man who looks like he's the main character from the game Uncharted with an enormous distended round beerbelly, with one hand on a bar in a pub, nathan" This is sometimes surprisingly effective, but most often it'll simply draw vibes from the IP mentioned, so you can use it to get specific settings at least

Try spelling the names wrong or reversing the name order - sometimes it'll even accept names sprinkled throughout the prompt. Repeating the name may increase its effect (it might also not!) Also it's speculated that placing the celebrity fraud in a place or situation they would normally be found in helps. That said, I could only get a Robert Downey Jr if I made him dress as a gladiator. So maybe weirdness and ingenuity are your strengths. see also https://www.tumblr.com/baron-bear/731903035856584704/what-do-you-use-for-your-ai-stuff

#fat ai #fat ai man

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theofficialpresidentofmars · 3 months

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did I ever tell you guys about how I would adapt (the tragedy of) Hamlet (prince of Denmark) if ever given the chance. because I have so many thoughts and I’m adding onto them all the time so here’s a post with all my ideas compiled.

- firstly, it would be an animated mini-series of five episodes, each one corresponding to an Act. I think Animation is a highly under-utilised and underappreciated medium that would suit this particular story well in terms of what it could achieve visually and also these are just a bunch of words to say I’m heavily biased towards animation and just love it so much.

- there are so many fun little character design tidbits i would implement. including but not limited to: Horatio being the shortest, Claudius/Hamlet Sr identical twins (and Claudius having a Scar reminiscent scar on his face for the drama… and also the eventual Act 5 Scene 2 parallels when Laertes wounds Hamlet with the rapier in an incidentally similar way), Laertes having a silly curly moustache, Horatio and Ophelia resembling the other, Hamlet looking tired, pale and ghostly at all times, character’s hair being used as a way to show passing of time (Hamlet having hair on the long side of short in Act 1, growing but in a little ponytail over Act 2, medium-length and unkempt in Acts 3 & 4, and cut shortly and neatly in Act 5. also Ophelia’s hair growing noticeably as well and being often neatly braided with little flowers in Acts 1-2, loosely braided without flowers in Act 3, but being down and wild in Act 4 etc), and so on so forth.

- I would shamelessly be including flashbacks to pre-tragedy memories of the castle/inhabitants. Baby R&G&H running through the castle halls and playing hide and seek. Hamlet actually, god forbid, practicing fencing. The Players entertaining at the castle in Hamlet’s youth. Ophelia and Hamlet sneaking out into the garden beneath the willows by the pond, Hamlet braiding flowers into her hair while they sit together. Yorick entertaining baby Hamlet. All coloured with the softest, goldenest glows that nostalgia can manage to contrast the desaturated depressive hues of the current day. I think a lot of the tragedy of *Hamlet* specifically lies in comparing what was to what ended up being, and since the play starts after Hamlet’s entered his mourning period, it’s hard to fully comprehend the true nature of such a fall.

- Each Act having a lovely stylised title card in its introduction with themes and motifs that are specifically prevalent throughout. Act 3 would have curtains, for example, given the play staging and Polonius’ later poor choice of hiding place. Act 5 introduces the classic skull we all know and love.

- Very purposeful dramatic lighting and colour throughout. Daylight lighting and then the switch to a lot of Hamlet’s soliloquies seeming to appear under more ‘spotlight’ lighting. Early evening during the play, sunset during the scene where Claudius prays (golden light tricking through beautiful stained-glass windows), nightfall when Hamlet yells at Gertrude. Lighting also being used to dramatise entrances perhaps, such as Claudius’s prayer being interrupted by the shift to ‘spotlight’ lighting before we even see Hamlet at the door.

- Same goes with music and motifs, interwoven character leitmotifs and themes that shift keys and qualities and work together to make larger pieces and show up to herald the arrival of a character, or turn sour to match their emotions.

- the visual humour of the play being upped, as well as the wordy humour being emphasised, in order to really contrast the shift in tone throughout the halves of the play. I’ve always been a tragicomedy truther when it comes to Hamlet, I think if done well it could be a really neat way to get the audience to invest more in the characters while also really highlighting how quickly everything goes south.

Probably add more on as I go

#hamlet #hamletposting #shakespeare

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gosmigenergy · 8 months

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KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Eighteen

( Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F!Reader )

SENSORY DEPRIVATION GAGS / SERVICE TOP/POWER BOTTOM / BLOODPLAY

Summary: You and Santiago decide to play with some sensory deprivation.

Day Eighteen of @absurdthirst's Kinktober

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Language, blindfold, sensory deprivation, teasing, licking, biting, marking, dry humping, Dom!Santiago, rough sex, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Notes: Unfortunately I missed Day Seventeen, I’ve been trying my best to stay a few days ahead but my mind just threw a complete blank with the prompts available. I couldn’t bring myself to knock something out that I wouldn’t be happy with, so, enjoy Day Eighteen!

You were sure this was about the fifth time he’d asked if you were sure about this.

Why wouldn’t you be sure?

Santiago had already put you in wrist and ankle restraints and used a spreader bar to see how far you could go, sensory deprivation seemed like a logical step. He had already threatened you with a gag, what harm could a blindfold do?

And it was that he wasn’t excited about this prospect or not confident with his skill set, he’s just worried about you. On the evening of Benny’s fight night, when the two of you shared a fleeting glance, he knew that maybe there was something different to you.

Kinky people can sense other kinky people.

It’s undeniable that you are flourishing with them. They met up for drinks every so often without you and told stories to each other, some were surprising, the majority weren’t, not to him anyway. The four of them were beginning to know your quirks, what really turns you on, which buttons to press to make you cum but they saw the change, the confidence you exuded in the bedroom.

He didn’t want to ruin that.

His thumbs played with the edging of the blindfold, these were made to truly shut out everything, and his ear defenders from the shooting range lay on the mattress next to you.

“Blindfold and ear defenders?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“Honey, you’re jumpy when I touch you normally, this is going to be different.”

He emphasised different.

It was you who suggested adding in the ear defenders. You’d read online that with key senses gone, your others would heighten and that excited you. Your imagining the act similar to how Will had touched you for the first time but even more intense without being able to see or hear.

Santiago wouldn’t have the same technique as him, he’d definitely have things in his arsenal.

You sit with your legs crossed on the bed, wearing lingerie as he requested. It was delicate and bright with tiny embroidered daisies, a stark contrast to his dark bedding.

“If it’s too mu—“

“Use the safe word,” you say.

His one eyebrow arches, eyes turning dark and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

He brings the blindfold to your face and gets you to hold it over your eyes before he moved behind you. Of course, he purchased an elaborate one, one that was in the shape of an x and crossed over your forehead and cheeks, a notch where it slotted over your nose.

Holding it steady, he fastened the top buckle then the bottom before he moved back in front of you.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Are you doing that thing where you’re technically flipping me the bird?”

“No,” he sighs, “and please take this seriously.”

You hang your head, “Sorry, Santi.”

He cups your chin and runs a thumb over your parted lip, leaning in for a kiss. Taking the ear defenders, he places them over your ears and pulls the headband to hug your head. He brings his fingers near and clicks a couple of times.

Nothing.

He wraps his hand around yours and squeezes three times, you squeeze three times back.

Placing both hands on your shoulders, he guides you down so you’re flush against the mattress before pulling your legs straight.

The pair of you never discussed what would happen next.

Santiago left the room.

You didn’t know how long you’d been laying there.

There was one promise you made, if he didn’t restrain you, you wouldn’t try taking the blindfold or ear defenders off. However your fingers were getting itchy, you twiddle your thumbs and flex your fingers.

Your mind began to drift.

You could imagine him sat on the chair he has in the room, far from the bed so he can watch your whole body. He’s probably got a smirk on his face, eyes observing every inch of you, every movement you make.

In actuality, he was stood patiently in the kitchen, sipping on a beer.

He checked his watch, fifteen minutes seemed like long enough.

Coming back into the bedroom, he peels off his top and throws it aside. You’re exactly where he left you like the good girl you are.

The bed sinks when he comes onto it, a weight sinking in between your legs. He doesn’t touch you yet you can sense his fingertips dancing around your frame, following the line up your body from your thighs to your shoulders. There’s a shift where he places his hands either side of your head and balances over you. His lips come to the crook of your neck, featherlight, barely skimming the skin.

Your back arches, shoulder blades drawing to chase his kiss but he moves away, the breath of his laughter teasing the surface.

You should have known better.

Straightening up, he continues to move lightly with his fingertips over ever inch, all the way down to your feet. He tickles your soles, it’s a little mean yet he couldn’t resist. Your feet flinch, a giggle falling from your lips and you attempt to keep your composure.

He does it again.

“Santi, stoooop.”

He stops touching you until you groan.

Placing an index finger just below your toe before dragging it in a straight line to the top of your hold up stocking. He pulls back the silicone strips from your thigh, the tip of his nose meeting your skin as he slowly peels away the glossy sock. Repeating the process with the other one, you sigh to his touch.

He replaces his touch with kisses, going up your legs until his nose touches underwear. He makes sure to apply more pressure to your weak spot before he rests on his heels, eyes fixed on your parted lips.

His jeans are getting tighter.

Just as he’s put you in a false sense of security, he slaps the inside of your thigh and then the other.

He watches as your body shudders and a ragged breath escapes you, a smile quirking. With a single finger, he draws from your belly button through the valley of your breast and up your neck, head tipping back as he flicks up your chin.

You hold steady, your neck elongated and exposed for him.

Gently he runs all his fingertips down your chest, grazing the cups of your bra, nipples reacting, puffing up with barely a touch. He kisses your stomach and around your waist, under the wiring in your underwear before he flattens his tongue between your breasts. He licks up to your collarbone, tongue flicking. As he kisses along your décolletage, he hooks your bra straps over your shoulders, approaching the crook of your neck.

Your chest rises and falls with a regular beat, he times his next move as you exhale. When your ribcage expands, he bares his teeth, and as it drops, he sinks them into the muscle.

You gasp and writhe, the roll of your hips causing you to brush your crotch over his denim coated leg. The thin mesh of your knickers doesn’t protect your clit from the bittersweet friction and the spark travels to meet the weight of his bite.

He sucks like a vampire trying to draw blood and you claw at the sheets to stop yourself from scratching your nails over his scalp.

You didn’t know if you were allowed to touch him.

When he releases his jaw, you feel his saliva spread across the patch of skin, now burning and tingling as the bruising comes through.

A hickey, really?

He allows you to breathe before carrying on.

After he kisses the over the cup of your bra, he delivers a single lick to each one as he releases your breasts from their confinement. Your nipples are already hard pebbles and your breath hitches as he skims his thumb over them.

He presses his lips over the meat of your one breast, circling inwards before taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking, popping it out over and over. Then he nibbles a little, your honeyed moan encouraging him to nuzzle deeper, his swift pinches replaced with a soothing lap of the tongue.

He moved onto the other, the chill of the room succeeding the warmth of his mouth.

You could feel every bit of him, the roughness of his tastebuds, the ripple of the tiniest muscles as they worked. The bop of his Adam’s apple, each single whisker that scratched over sensitive skin, the vibration of the groan rumbling from his chest.

You weren’t thinking straight.

Instinctively, your hands run through his trimmed curls before your fingers clench into the roots.

He stops to speak, “Like that do you, honey?”

You had no idea what he fucking said, all you knew was that you wanted his mouth. You reacted just as he’d hoped, the lack of his heat causing your back to arch to chase him. He doesn’t leave you hanging for long.

He comes in stronger, pining his knee to your crotch to force you hips from moving.

You cry as his teeth are sharp against your nipple, the scrape as he pulled back, body shivering. He attacks you over and over until your whimpering, your grip on his hair slipping then he takes a chunk of your breast in his mouth and marks you.

He moves away you, his fingertips at your thighs so you know he’s still there.

You’re beginning to fall apart.

Your heaving chest is decorated with signs of him, raised lines where his whisker brushed ferociously on your skin, chest flushed with a sweaty dew, two flourishing bruises and bra hanging loose.

Now he had to ensure your lower half looked equally as ravished.

You were just coming to terms with what had happened when Santiago hooked under your lower back and drag your crotch into his. Holding you firmly, he rolled his hips, notching your clit with the front of his jeans. You can feel his bulge, strained against the heavy fabric, grunting sweetly as he catches your clit.

After a few more strokes, he drops you and slides off the bed, undoing his belt at the same time. He leaves his jeans as a puddle on the floor, chucking his phone on the bed just in case before crawling to you. He lifts your legs over his hips and pressing his hardened cock against you.

Even through his briefs, he can feel how your arousal has pooled to your underwear. He bucks into you, his covered length gently sweeping over your folds and nudging your clit.

You groan in unison.

His cock twitches and your pussy does the same.

He doesn’t move, he’s thinking, wondering if you could both cum like this?

“Santi?” You query comes shyly.

He caresses your right thigh and you smile at him.

After deliberation, he begins to rock into you, the fabric of his brief tugging at his length. You could feel the tip of his cock radiating from the friction, hot and heavy as he knocked your bundle of nerves.

He took a long, slow drag, growling as every inch of his length met your damp crotch until he reach the base.

Picking up the pace, the heat grows between you, the warmth spreading through your wet pussy to your hips. The knot in your belly is tightening, threatening to unfurl as he ruts into you. Your toes are curling, legs vibrating as your breath starts catching again and again.

His fingers sunk deeper into your ass.

“You look so fucking pretty like this.”

He wished you could hear him as he watched your back arch, mouth hanging agape as one hand struggled to hold onto his wrist. You lift your knees, positioning your hips so you could feel him from the bottom to the top of your weeping folds.

His balls are dense and the next jerk of his hips overwhelms his senses. He screws his eyes shut as he hears you cry, the centre of your knickers warming and dampening against his briefs. His final thrust seizes his back with a rush of pleasure.

He opens his eyes as his cock pulses, his creamy white cum spurting through the material.

“Shiiit.”

It mostly holds, a couple of stray, thick droplets hitting your underwear.

“What a mess you’ve made.”

He smirks to himself, taking a photo on his phone so he can show you later.

Scrambling to take his briefs off, he tosses them, no longer caring where they land. He’s still hard and desperate to have your pussy round him. He snatches the band of your knickers and roughly takes them off to your accompanying screams. Taking both of your ankles either side of his head, he leans over you, practically folding you in half.

He rips the ear defenders from you and before you can protest, he holds your chin, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I want you to hear me when you make me cum again.”

His hand dropped and he lined himself up.

“Wait ag—“

He shoves into you to the hilt and knocks the wind out of you.

Taking a hold of your ankles, he thrusts in and out of you furiously and all you could do was take it.

The room filled with the sounds of your bodies slapping, your pussy squelching, his harsh pants that met your cute grunts as his tip notched your cervix.

You bring your arms over your blindfolded face, holding your wrists.

He kept his eyes on your body, how your breasts bounce and your ass ripples with every hit, your legs as they start to squash his neck.

“You’re taking me like such a good girl.”

You wanted to say something but all that came were choked cries.

His hips were stuttering, he was so close, your walls fluttering around his length. He pushes your legs towards your chest, his angle changing, scrapping the soft spot inside your cunt and your orgasm washes over you.

Clenching his cock, Santiago only last a few more strokes.

He unleashes a husky groan, spilling into you, his hands dropping so he could lessen his weight against you. The smell of him wafts into your nostrils, the mixture of woody and spicy notes that cling to his sweat.

It’s almost as if you can taste him.

You give him chance to catch his breath before you can’t take it anymore.

“Santi?”

He hums, lifting his heavy head.

“Would you mind taking the blindfold off?”

Straightening his back, you lift your legs off to either side, his cock softening inside you. You prop yourself up on your elbows and you feel his hands come to the back of your head.

You’d never tell him the truth about why you wanted it off.

There was something in you that actually missed his face.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #kinktober

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

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your brain is incredible omg!

my word for you is:

communication

"The key to an effective relationship..." Feyre smiled, flipping her hand over and holding it out to her mate, balancing her newborn in her other one. Rhysand slipped his hand into her own, grinning proudly and lifting their joined hands up to kiss the back of her palm.

"Is good communication." He finished for her, the table around you all falling silent. For a second, a pin could have been heard dropping, and you desperately tried to contain your snicker, feeling Azriel's amusement rippling down the bond into your chest and only making it worse.

Luckily, it wasn't you who broke the silence, but Nesta. She made a gagging sound, while Cassian let out a loud 'boo', and both the High Lord and Lady's smiles turned to scowls as laughter burst out around the dinner table.

"The key to an effective relationship is communication!" Cassian mocked, and even Amren chuckled, as Nesta only shook her head. The two had been reprimanded for over ten minutes by the youngest Archeron for yet another argument at the dinner table, one they'd tried to drag everyone else into, and clearly, none of that scolding had sunken in.

"Not all of us can literally read each other's minds." Nesta sniped in return, smirking into her wine glass as her sister huffed, and Rhys glared at her.

"You asked for advice, Nesta."

"I did not! I asked who the Hell wanted to bother with a mate when they're so fucking annoying!" She elbowed Cassian, who only sat smugly in his seat, blowing a kiss at her.

"Language!" Rhys burst, covering his son's ears, a bout of power rustling through the room and trembling the wine glasses, and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, c'mon, Rhys! I don't think the word 'fuck' is gonna' affect him, he's three months old. He can't even hold his own head up yet, he's not about to start cursing like a sailor."

"Oh, and I suppose you have some better advice to offer? I don't see you helping!" He was all but pouting now, and Azriel shrugged, the arm stretched out along the back of your chair lifted, hands playing with the ends of your hair softly.

"As the longest-mated couple here, perhaps our advice would be best, my love." Azriel sounded so sincere, so genuine, and a quiet hush fell around the table at his confidence. What they weren't privy to, however, was the mischievous tug you felt in your chest as he turned to smile lovingly at you.

"Alright. Well, I could tell you some more things like... the key to a good relationship is love, and patience."

"And unending loyalty. Give and take, compromise to make your lover happy." Azriel added, and you preened a little for effect, running your thumb over his cheek, as he offered a doting smile your way, though.

"The most important, though..."

"And, really, this is crucial..." Azriel emphasised, letting his brows pull together seriously, and everyone seemed to practically lean in. Even Amren was paying attention now.

You let the tension sit for a moment, let them stew in it, eyes moving across every single person at the table as they all waited eagerly, until you were sure someone was about to snap.

"Is being able to give really good head." Azriel finally finished, and Rhysand choked on the wine he was sipping, Feyre gasped and covered her child's ears again, and Cassian all but fell out of his chair with laughter.

"That, and a massive dick."

At that, Azriel beamed, the sound of your high-five echoing around the dining room, almost lost to the sounds of raucous laughter.

"Dammit, so Cassian has neither of the traits I need." Nesta sighed, and Cassian's indignant spluttering began. As more playful bickering broke out, you leaned a little further into your mate's side, feeling him nuzzle at your temple, leaving a kiss in his wake.

"How about I show you some of that really good head later?" He muttered into your hair, and you sent a pang of heat back to him in answer, feeling his responding breathless chuckle.

"I can't wait."

#q.

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houseofbrat · 1 month

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The King will meet families of cancer patients in his first public engagement since his diagnosis as he strives to show it is possible to live a full life while being treated for the disease.

His Majesty will be joined by the Queen as they visit a cancer treatment centre to raise awareness, highlight research, and offer personal thanks for the work of medics in the field.

In particular, they have asked to meet patients and their families.

A palace source said the King and Queen hoped to show how cancer “doesn’t just affect those who have cancer, it affects all those around them”.

They added: “Though every patient is different, one of the things they hope to demonstrate and witness is how people can go on living a full life during treatment, not just after it.

“Cancer can be a scary word but it doesn’t have to be a scary experience.”

On Friday, Buckingham Palace announced that the King would be making a return to public engagements, three months after he was diagnosed with cancer.

Emphasising that he was still undergoing treatment and that engagements may be adapted to protect his health, a spokesman said: “His Majesty’s medical team are very encouraged by the progress made so far and remain positive about the King’s continued recovery.

“His Majesty is greatly encouraged to be resuming some public-facing duties and very grateful to his medical team for their continued care and expertise.”

On Tuesday, the King and Queen will make their first joint official engagement since Nov 14, visiting a cancer treatment centre – which will not be named in advance for security reasons – to meet medical specialists, patients and families.

The event aims to raise awareness of the importance of early diagnosis and highlight the pioneering research, supported by Cancer Research UK, taking place at the hospital.

The Queen by his side

The Queen has been by the King’s side throughout his treatment, regularly photographed coming and going during his initial three-night hospital stay for what was originally thought to be an enlarged prostate.

Later this week, she will continue with her programme of solo engagements. She has been widely praised for stepping up to lead the Royal family this year, as the Prince and Princess of Wales have also had to take time out of the public eye to help their family through her abdominal surgery and then chemotherapy.

The palace has not yet confirmed any further appearances for the King, who has been performing his State duties including red boxes, audiences and Privy Council meetings behind closed doors since his cancer diagnosis was announced on Feb 6.

There are now hopes that he will be able to attend the key moments of Trooping the Colour, the 80th anniversary of D-Day and Royal Ascot in some form.

Aides are making contingency plans to establish the safest way for him to join the 8,000 guests, with options ranging from him appearing at a distance for the national anthem, to a full walk to greet the crowds.

One of the King’s first public appearances of the summer season is expected to be at a Buckingham Palace garden party. This year, they take place on May 8 and May 21, with royal sources saying the King is determined to attend at least one if possible.

The King has been praised for his candid approach to sharing his diagnosis. MacMillan Cancer Research, of which he is the patron, told The Telegraph his “openness about his diagnosis and experience” will have a “positive impact on many lives”.

The Duke of Sussex was happy to hear the news about his father’s health, the Telegraph understands.

‘It is good news’

Claire Taylor, the chief nursing officer at Macmillan Cancer Support, said: “It’s good news to see the King recovering and returning to royal duties. Cancer affects everyone differently and some people continue to be active during their treatment, others stop working during treatment until they feel ready to go back.

“The King’s openness about his diagnosis and experience is helping to encourage others who have concerns, to visit their GP and seek support, and will have a positive impact on many lives.”

Dame Laura Lee, the chief executive of Maggie’s, a cancer care charity, said: “We know at Maggie’s how important continuing to work during treatment can be for many people as it can help to give them a sense of purpose and identity.”

“His openness about his diagnosis has encouraged so many important conversations about cancer and I would like to thank him from my heart for using his own difficult experience to help others.”

A palace spokesman said: “As the first anniversary of the coronation approaches, Their Majesties remain deeply grateful for the many kindnesses and good wishes they have received from around the world throughout the joys and challenges of the past year.”

#the telegraph #hannah furness #victoria ward #King Charles III #Queen Camilla #uk #medicine #public health #health care #prince harry #my gif

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allegra-j-joann · 2 months

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How Modern is Romanticism?

Romanticism is perceived through its driest definition¹ to be a fixed artistic period running from the late-18th to early-19th century. But unlike many movements that came and went before and after it, Romanticism as a cultural movement never quite fell entirely out of fashion and has laid the groundwork for many other movements and as a set of ideas influenced visual art, literature, philosophy and many other things. As well as persisting long after its designated period, the concepts of Romanticism were brewing and bouncing around in literature and visual arts long before it became its own recognised movement. Romanticism, as one of the most iconic and perhaps most important literary movements, is both far older and far more modern than it might first appear.

To be clear before this Essay goes much further, Capital ‘R’ Romance and Romanticism are very different to soft ‘r’ romance, romance being of love and courtship between individuals and what is seen in classical tales, while Romance refers to the product of Romanticism. While Romance plays a role and can colour the interpretation of romance, romance does not play as large a role in Romanticism. The name of the movement and its association with romance developed between England, Germany and France late in the seventeenth century and became a key term for many poets who prided themselves on their freedom and separation from 18th century standards. The movement’s attraction drew from fantastical ideas about the middle ages and specifically French Arthurian tales, which provided a model for the imaginative non-realism, rich emotion and decisive action that appealed to young artistic rebels. In Germany, especially, the word was used in strong opposition to the term classical, and the refined and restrictive ideals of what “art” was and was not, similar to the ideas that would later give rise to Dadaism and would fuel impressionism and the Pre Raphaelite painters.

In order to understand where Romanticism began, it becomes important to understand what came before Romanticism for it to rebel against. The prominent artistic movement before Romanticism was that of Classicism, The movement named for the roman first-class citizen, the Classici, serves the base purpose of embodying the ideal. In a time where owning Roman and Grecian artifacts and texts was a mark of refinement and wealth, their literature was held to represent the highest state of art. All things, be it war and heroism or beauty could supposedly be quantifiably captured and lined up beside the likes of Plato and Aristotle, more intellectual than aesthetic in value. Classicism has been marked to be present anywhere from the fifth and fourth century AD to the late 1700s, encapsulating the likes of Vergil, and turning attention to the value of wholeness and unity in art with no extraneous factors to distract, leaving no room for imaginative fancies or open-endedness.

The turn of the 1800s saw the beginning of the shift away from grandeur and such rigidity in the arts as trends shifted into Pre-Romanticism, a Movement which, as its name implies, preceded Romanticism. Pre-Romanticism was born of the growing middle class gaining access to art and literature and saw a shift int trends to the more sincere and straight forward appreciation of nature, comfort and human emotion. Only after Pre-Romanticism ran its brief course did it truly move into Romanticism, the likes of Wordsworth and, later in 1848, the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood focusing not on the grand wholeness and the perfectionism but on the smaller elements. Romanticism came about as nearly a direct reaction to industrialisation and modern scientific rationalisation, emphasising the individual and nature, shining a softer more reflective light on the past rather than the idealisation it was previously held in, and overall was a very humanising set of ideals.

One of the most notable Romantic poets, one who pioneered the romantic writing style, was one William Wordsworth, who prefaced his publication ‘Lyrical Ballads’ with a request to the reader to view the text as an experiment more than as poetry. Wordsworth’s style broke from the highly formalised poetry that many readers would have been accustomed to and he warned in the opening ‘advertisement’ that “Readers of superior judgment may disapprove of the style in which many of these pieces are executed it must be expected that many lines and phrases will not exactly suit their taste” (advertisement, paragraph 3) thus immediately setting up the expectation of Romanticism’s rebellion against the established. Possibly the most important contribution Wordsworth’s poetry made to the development and persistence of romanticism was the lack of formality in the language he wrote with, where works before him dealt in verbosity and intellectual language, using poetry as a means to display how educated the author was, see for example and of William Shakespeare’s sonnets which used far finer terms than would be spoken in, “From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die,” anyone? (William Shakespeare, sonnet 1, l. 1-2)². Contrast to that formality, Wordsworth’s Ballads are written in language that you might have, at the time, heard while walking down the street. Many of Wordsworth’s poems held appeal for people outside the most highly educated, as with the language stripped of the elitist refinement of language that many people simply couldn’t grasp, it became more about what the poem said, how it expressed the joy of the world and the small delights, than it did about how intelligent you sounded reciting it, much of his writing forwent established poetic language entirely and was instead written like a conversation overheard, such as “I met a little cottage girl, She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl, That cluster'd round her head.” (We Are Seven, l. 5-9)³ which appears for all its tidy rhyming to be a simple description in a simple voice, such as that of a child. Where a classical poem might take the lines to express how beautiful the little girl was or liken her to something lovely, the simplified language works to establish the view of her as a person on the street, not some out of reach muse. Wordsworth’s approach to poetry laid the groundwork for modern poetry down the road, by breaking down the expectation to stay within a certain way of writing, poets experimented, and now it is possible and indeed common to find poetry full of slang, borrowed terms and ven profanities, making many elements of modern poetry stand on the shoulders of Romantic rebellion.

Because of the work of Wordsworth and other Romantic writers, while the Romantic Era has ended and Realism and Modernism have taken over the literary trends, many characterising aspects of Romanticism remain prolific and have even become mainstays of genres, and in some cases, of entire mediums into the 21st century, and many of these ideas show no signs of falling out of style. To see where Romanticism’s influence is at perhaps its strongest in modern writing, we must look away from western literature and into the animation and young adult writing of Japan. The Manga industry of Japan takes a great many of its influences from western media, specifically from the american comic books of the 1980s and 90s, evolving in time to what is referred to as ‘shonen’ or hero manga, aimed at boys and young men primarily. In the past two years a particular series has risen in popularity that seems to perfectly embody everything that the Romantic movement stood for, going by the english title ‘My Hero Academia’ the series takes place in a world where almost all humans are born with superpowers, and focuses on what is needed for an individual to stand out in an environment where everyone and everything is exceptional. For the sake of clarity, ‘My Hero Academia’ will be discussed against a novel considered the pinnacle of Romantic writing, Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’.

Shelley’s novel embodies Romanticism in many key ways. Imagination plays a key role in Frankenstein, being what grants Victor the ability to design the monster in the beginning. The novel relies heavily on its focus on individuality. The monster has a strong sense of individuality that comes from his identity as a misunderstood and unloved outcast. Frankenstein, like all Romantic writing, has a great focus on emotions. This can be seen in the blatant and near constant misery of both the monster and Victor himself. When reading the novel, we experience Frankenstein as the manifestation of Romanticism in nearly every aspect. Romanticism hailed deep and often explosively intense emotion as an authentic source of experience, placing new emphasis on such emotions as apprehension, horror, terror, and awe. In both Frankenstein and My Hero Academia: characters are utterly driven and sometimes irrationally swayed by their emotions. They draw meaning from their passions. Like the Monster of Shelley’s novel, the characters are driven in their heroics not by their sense of duty or the societal need for heroes, with superpowers so abundant, no individual needs to become a hero, instead the characters are driven by their intense desire for individuality, and the deeply human need to achieve as much as they can, to be the best that they are capable of being. My Hero Academia’s entire plot is driven not by the heroism itself, but by the character’s altruism and devotion to the value of the people around them. In both Frankenstein and My Hero Academia the characters don’t succeed merely to succeed, but because they want to be the best at what they do to show and exert their independence and will. In MHA, the writing and world structure preaches that only those who are willing to reach further and work harder than all others will succeed; As for Frankenstein, he seeks to destroy the break down of life and death itself, saying: “No one can conceive the variety o/f feelings which bore me onwards, like a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through…” (Shelley Ch.4).

While Exemplary of Romantic writing, MHA is far from the only modern work to fall neatly under the banner of what Romanticism was and was intended to be, the ideals flood Japanese media, and even in Western children’s media, so much of what is written for teens and younger is written with the intention to see people for who they are as an individual and achieve what they are best at, or to appreciate the world for its inherent beauty. In 21st-century culture, Romantic ideas usually appear when the distinction between the human and unhuman needs to be made, be it man against wild nature or man against the artificial, it is ideas of Romanticism that are brought out to define humanity.

Romanticism, as a formal movement, begun its roots long before it is often credited to have, and continues to work its ideals into every literary movement that has come since, like a stake that supports a sapling, so long as writers and artists continue to romanticise even the smallest aspects of their lives, be it a poem about a flower by the road or an epic novel about the persistence of human will, Romanticism will continue to hold its place as a pillar of modern literature.

#writer stuff #writing #writerscommunity #romanticism #romance #essay

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aamirastories · 4 months

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Part 5

We're back again with Ammy! Thank you to anyone who reads and enjoys this!

Ammy

May 4th, 2033

Ouch. My eyes opened, albeit slowly as sunlight streamed through my window. As I rolled onto my back, I was quickly reminded of the previous night, my hip a sore memory. I pulled off the sheet and saw a bruise start to develop. I dismissed it as quickly as I had seen it – it hadn’t been the first time I had gotten this kind of treatment and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last.

I switched on the TV, flicking through the channels.

“Tensions between Oman and…”

*click*

“And now, for $1000, what is the third element in…”

*click*

“Fertility is within your reach with F..”

I switched the TV off. I stretched, and as the sheet fell around me, the breeze from the AC made my skin instantly come up in goosebumps, hastily throwing it back around me again. I gathered it up around me and stood up, stepping towards the window. Tucked away in one of the few quiet corners of the bustling heart of Dubai, my apartment was my cosy sanctuary. From my bed, nestled in an alcove, it offered a clear view of the entire living space. The kitchenette – one stove top, a few counters, a small fridge with its own freezer compartment, a microwave and a coffee machine - all of the essentials. All of my essentials, certainly. Coffee was becoming rarer these days and hence more expensive, but it was an extravagance I didn’t mind. I needed it. Especially today. The bathroom was nestled in the opposite corner, with its own shower but no bath. And how I would love to have a bath, to soak my soreness away and be lost in it.

As I looked outside, cars were moving through the city, the traffic building as it grew closer to noon. I had slept in, my sleep interrupted through the night by the bruise on my hip and the headache I still needed to take care of. My scalp roared and as I brought my hand up to my head, the memories rushed back, and I slumped to the ground. I closed my eyes trying to shut those images out but alas, my mind betrayed me. The girl seemed lovely; she was genuinely enjoying it. I was, however, used. I blinked a tear from my eye and looked outside again. Today, as any other, was a new day. I stood up, walked over to my bedside cabinet and picked up my Glass, looking at my schedule for the day.

14:00 – Pharmacy

16:00 – Gym

Not a lot planned today. Thankfully. I was tempted to skip the Gym, but I needed to feel good about myself. Since I began working out 10 years ago, I’d been proud of my body. I put a hand to my belly and felt my abdomen. I was getting a 4-pack. I wasn’t too concerned with getting a 6 pack or being particularly muscly – I aimed much more for a toned physique, but I was proud of what I had achieved. Self-pride was what kept me from going to darker places.

I dropped the sheet, put some briefs on, put on a simple top and jeans and grabbed my Glass. I needed to head out to get some new coffee pods and milk and now would be the quietest time to head there as most of the commuters in the city would be purely focused on getting to work. Slipping into my shoes, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.

I turned, locked the door and spun around, ready to head to the elevator before a figure stood in front of me, a clear 5 or so inches taller than me.

“Rent, when is it coming? You only have a week!”, the male in front of me abruptly said. This was my landlord, a broad shouldered man casting a long shadow that engulfed me entirely. His eyes were sharp and scrutinising, his voice deep and resonant, each word carefully enunciated to emphasise the seriousness of his request. He had an air of intimidation surrounding him.

“I’ll have it for you soon I promise, I won’t be late again!”, I replied, giving him a soft and genuine smile before aiming to head around him. He sidestepped, standing in front of me once more, blocking my escape entirely.

“If you’re late again, I’ll find a new tenant. This is your last warning, okay?”, he added, looking me up and down.

His words trailed off into a murmur, "If you weren't—well. Mmhh," he taunted, the smirk on his face stretching into a sneer that seemed to echo in the tense silence. What a vile creature he was. If I wasn't what? Different? Transexual? The urge to press his smug expression against the cold, unyielding wall surged within me, a primal call to action. Yet, restraint prevailed; I quelled the tempest inside. After all, where would I flee? The world outside was just as unwelcoming, almost entirely devoid of confidants or sanctuary.

“Please let me go, I’ll get your money”, I replied, and forced my way past him and down the hallway. I looked over my shoulder and he was gone. I pushed the button on the elevator, the *ding* of the elevator almost startling me, my entire body on edge. The doors opened straight away. Finally, some luck. I headed inside, pushed ‘G’ and headed down, watching him walk away from me as the doors closed.

I stepped outside into the street, the wall of heat hitting me. It was late Spring, and the temperatures were already building. I figured at least in the late 30s in terms of temperature. I headed down the street and tried to smile at people heading past me. No-one made eye contact with me, they just stared straight past me, so I put my head down and kept walking, mentally walking through what had just happened, and what I needed to do today.

A few hundred metres later, I arrived at the store and stepped in. Though not uncomfortably hot, the AC that struck me as I entered, I was grateful for. I grabbed a basket and proceeded down the aisles, knowing where to head, taking what I needed and heading to the cashier. The daughter of the owner was waiting at the checkout – I was grateful this was a family run store and not a larger one. I’d always hated crowds.

“Good morning, Ammy!”, she said, beaming with a smile at seeing me. This was another reason I came here. This girl was one of the few people who greeted me with genuine happiness. She stood slightly taller than me, darker skinned with black long flowing hair and hazel eyes that twinkled when she smiled.

We chatted about the latest rom-com movie in the cinema – ‘Cupid’s Mishap’. I had seen it alone a few nights ago while waiting for an appointment and it was a movie we had both been looking forward to and always found ourselves chatting about when we met. As the conversation ended, she placed a finger delicately under my chin and looked me in the eyes.

“Have you been sleeping, Ammy?”, she asked me. I wanted to lie and say I had been sleeping well but I couldn’t. I could tell the look on my face was one of stress, exhaustion and whilst I’m sure I didn’t display signs of the incident last night, I’m sure signs of it still showed.

“It’s been tough, I’ve had headaches and restless nights.”, I replied, no omission by any stretch - I hadn’t slept properly for days.

She took out her purse and took out a small tube of cream, applying a small bead of it to her fingers and rubbing it gently under my eyes. It smelt of peppermint and the aroma of it filled my nose, instantly making me feel more alert, my eyes widening.

“This should help, and it also helps with the loose skin under the eyes when you don’t sleep. Ammy – take care of yourself. Make sure you’re getting sleep okay?”, she added, and gave me another warm smile. If it wasn’t for the fact her parents despised me, this girl could be a true friend of mine. I had hoped she would leave this business and set up something for herself so we could truly get to know each other.

I thanked her, as a customer behind me was getting impatient, signified by the tapping of their foot. Though I wanted to say something to them, I had figured it was probably a bad idea. I flashed my Glass over the scanner and once it had registered the transaction, I smiled after her. I touched her side softly and gave her a soft smile, mouthing the words ‘Thank you’, and walked to the door, the customer behind me almost occupying the space before I had left it.

“Bye Ammy!”, she said after me.

“Bye Kristy!”I said after her, truly thankful for the brief time we’d had this morning and I felt, for the first time in over 2 days, a smile fill my face.

I headed back to my apartment, not caring if anyone smiled back at me. My head was held high, and I headed back up to my apartment, through the glass doors, up the elevator and, after taking a wary look to ensure the landlord was not lurking and waiting for my return, I headed into my apartment. I unpacked the bags, grabbed the pods and milk before taking them to the coffee machine to make myself my first cup for the day. And I had been looking forward to it.

As the coffee machine whirred away, the aroma of it filled the apartment and I sighed, closing my eyes. Once it was done filling my cup, I opened my purse and checked my FutureCraft ID and Appointment Slip were in there, before setting my purse down and taking my now ready cup from the machine.

I sat on the edge of my bed and savoured that cup. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath, in an attempt to calm myself – the memories of yesterday returning once again. Though it was a painful experience, emotionally and physically, I needed it. I just wish I had gotten paid. Should I go and ask for the money? At least my appointment this afternoon would guarantee payment. I just hated having to put myself out for others without reward, letting them use me for their gains.

Hopefully what I was doing would help stop all this. Not just for me but everyone like me.

One day.

#science #fiction #young adult

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theodorobrejablog · 5 months

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2.Tools - Analysing Diablo IV through the lens of medium specificity and gesamtkunstwerk

Since 1827 when the word “Gesamtkunstwerk” was first used by Karl Friendrich Trahndorff, the idea of the purest work of art that would embody as many art forms as possible has shifted. Starting with the theatre which Richard Wagner considered to be the ideal medium (Wagner, 1849) that combines music, acting, decor, writing, and continuing with the innovation of films, which brought new areas such as editing and visual effects, the evolution of different medias keeps adding more and more, old and new, art districts to create a more complex final result. Nowadays, one of the most flourishing mediums that illustrate the concept of Gesamtkunstwerk is video-games. In addition to the films, the video-game brings a new side of the experience, the direct interaction of the player with what the game has to offer, creating an immersive environment. As Ivan Hewett said in his article “For young classical composers, the peak of ambition is no longer the symphony – it’s the video game” published in The Telegraph: “If Wagner were alive today, he might well be a video game composer.”

Fig.1 Diablo IV Cover

As one of the recent games released in 2023, Diablo IV by Blizzard Entertainment is a perfect example to analyse from Gesamtkunstwerk perspective. The game is an online, open world, third person, RPG (Role Playing Game) set in the hyperrealistic horror genre. Being part of the Diablo series, Diablo IV takes place in Sanctuary (the realm of humans) fifty years after its predecessor Diablo III: Reaper of Souls, and portrays the story of the long rivalry between the angel Inarius and the demon Lilith, father and mother of the Sanctuary. As mentioned above, just from its nature (being a video-game), Diablo IV is a Gesamtkunstwerk, which combines a truly captivating story written by Rafal Praszczalek, outstanding cinematics that occur during the campaign (the main story/quest of the game) made by the development team, incredible soundtrack composed by Ted Reedy & Leo Kaliski that offers a truly immersive experience and a satisfying gameplay.

Millions of people play video-games without appreciating or even being aware of the huge amount of work and time that is invested by an army of artists, programers and technicians, from so many backgrounds, in order to create the game. For Diablo VI only, 9,166 people were credited, which set a new record as MobyGames stated in their Twitter post. Out of those, 2,464 people were involved in the audio, 902 graphic artists, 397 quality assurance team, 394 programmers and engineers and 193 designers (MobyGames, 2023). At the macro level, analysing the amount of people and art districts that are involved in the production is overwhelming, this is why, moving further in the analysis I will only discuss at a smaller scale, the area of character art, an area in which I have specialised in the last few years.

Fig.2 Character Customization

In the game, the element with which the player has to emphasise the most in order for the immersive effect of the Gesamtkunstwerk to take place is the characters and especially the character of the player. To start exploring the world of Sanctuary and the story, the player has to choose from five different classes: Barbarian, Sorcerer, Druid, Rogue, Necromancer. The key part of the experience is the character customization, which helps the player emphasise and transpose themselves into the character (fig.2). The character development is a long process which combines a variety of teams including: 3D modellers, texture artists, fashion artists, props artists, riggers, technicians and voice actors. Only with strong teamwork and collaboration will the final product (the character) be brought to life. To add even more depth to the characters, the writers create lore and background stories that give them complexity and believability.

It is interesting to see the transition of “character art” from paintings and sculptures, to 3D digital models. The process of real life sculpting and 3D sculpting is not that different. Both use tools to sculpt a mass, whether there are physical tools like point chisel, tooth chisel or flat chisel or digital brushes, they all have the same purpose. Similarities can also be found in the process as well. The clay sculpture and the 3D model need to be “baked” in order to get painted/textured afterwards. In my eyes both types of artists have an insane amount of skill in order to create all these realistic sculptures from traditional sculpts like David and Pieta by Michelangelo to all the digital creatures and characters that appear in our favourite films and games. Nowadays we got so used to seeing all these fantasy worlds and creatures that I believe it desensitised our perception of them. Now entire films like Avatar (2009) are based on fully digitalised worlds with SF creatures and still people can emphasise with them and immerse themselves in those totally digitised universes.

However, we cannot deny the medium-specific elements (Greenberg, 1940) and differences that appear between the traditional and digital sculpting of characters. It could be argued that digital sculptors have an “easier life” regarding sculpting, due to the infinite material, all the different software functions such as “undo” when u make a mistake or the symmetry which can save dozens of hours of work. In addition, the digital sculptors can enjoy the comfort of their room or desk setup while working. However, the traditional sculptors may find the idea of not being to touch the model and feel the materials be uninspiring and cutting some of that creative “madness” and connection between the artist and the artwork.

Fig.3 Horseman Fig.4 Jamir Blanco art

As a character artist myself, I always try to get inspiration from both areas. There are some extraordinary digital sculptors like Marco Plouffe (fig.3) and Jamir Blanco (fig.4) who create hyperrealistic sculptures and who inspired me to follow this path. Even so, I believe that in order to get to that level where you use technology as a tool to manifest your creative ideas and not the other way around, you need to have a deep knowledge of the basics in order to have a strong base to work on and add all the “eye catching special effects”. This is where the traditional sculptors have exceeded because they do not have the tricks to hide any mistakes or uncertainties. Thus, when I research anatomy, proportions and different stances, I always try to find references from traditional sculptors.

To conclude, there is a huge amount of work, time and resources put together by an army of artists in order to bring to life the games that we play. Hundreds of art departments from different areas collaborate in order to have the best result possible, which I believe to be the essence of Gesamtkunstwerk: “total work of art” (Trahndorffin, 1827). Despite the evolution of the digital world and the transition from traditional to digital sculpting, each area has its own elements of medium-specificity, advantages and disadvantages that inspire artists no matter their area of practice and bring joy to the viewer or player.

Bibliography:

Fig.1: Sinclair, B. (2022) Diablo 4 devs describe mismanagement, crunch, GamesIndustry.biz. Available at: https://www.gamesindustry.biz/diablo-4-devs-describe-mismanagement-crunch (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Fig.2: McWhertor, M. (2022) Diablo 4’s character creator does just enough, Polygon. Available at: https://www.polygon.com/23498216/diablo-4-character-creator-impressions-blizzard (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Fig.3: Artstation.com. Available at: https://marcologue.artstation.com/projects/Gevee1 (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Fig.4: Artstation.com. Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Alkz5N (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Hewett, I. (2022) “For young classical composers, the peak of ambition is no longer the symphony – it’s the video game,” Sunday telegraph, 17 July. Available at: https://www.telegraph.co.uk/music/what-to-listen-to/young-classical-composers-peak-ambition-no-longer-symphony/ (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Wagner, R. (1849) Das kunstwerk Der zukunft.

Greenberg, C. (no date) Towards a Newer Laocoön, Tfreeman.net. Available at: https://tfreeman.net/resources/Phil-330/Greenberg.pdf (Accessed: January 4, 2024).

Suleman, F. (2023) Over 9,000 people came together to make Diablo 4, exputer.com. eXputer. Available at: https://exputer.com/news/games/diablo-4-credits-community/ (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Wagner, R. (no date) Gesamtkunstwerk, The Art Story. Available at: https://www.theartstory.org/definition/gesamtkunstwerk/ (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Lev manovich (no date) Manovich.net. Available at: http://manovich.net/index.php/projects/post-media-aesthetics (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

Wikipedia contributors (2023a) Diablo IV, Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Diablo_IV&oldid=1189890981.

Northup, T. (2023) Diablo 4 review, IGN. Available at: https://www.ign.com/articles/diablo-4-review (Accessed: December 27, 2023).

#hertfordshire #sources and significance #tools

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hannahlacey · 6 months

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Expanding on Posters: LO2 + LO4

By creating a couple of variations of this poster design, I wanted to reflect on what looked best. I tried to incorporate more of my feedback into this, looking at ways of emphasising importance of sun protection, and sun damage. By playing around with the wording of these posters, I wanted to make the message as explicit as possible, without showing actual skin damage.

I found that by adding the illustration to hint towards suncream, this added another level of context to this poster concept. After asking family, Hopper and Tonya for their thoughts and feelings, they all preferred 4 + 3. I agree with this feedback, as the mention of skin directs peoples focus to taking care of their appearance, which communicates my brands values perfectly.

I want to continue exploring poster concepts that communicate this idea, having two or three variations to put the message across.

After Tonya's feedback, I decided to go down a different route with the texture. Through including imagery of things being burnt such as paper, I have been able to play off of the aethetics and risks of sun damage. The messaging solidifies this message for the audience, especially through the typographic heirarchy. I wanted to visually put more emphasis on the certain words such as 'burn', 'skin' and 'hot', to really drive the message and highlight these key things.

I think this is the most successful poster, and would get people to reflect on skin-damage, drawing them towards the pop-up shop.

#reflection #experiments #lo2 #lo4 #specialist practice #rsa #in your skin #inyourskin

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deadcactuswalking · 1 year

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 29/04/2023 (Nines, The Weeknd/Future, Tyler the Creator/Kali Uchis!)

Content warning: some graphic imagery/violent lyrics, brief mentions of rape + swearing

Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding retake the #1 – just barely – with “Miracle”, with its third non-consecutive week on top of the UK Singles Chart. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with the notable dropouts, which are songs exiting the UK Top 75 – the region I cover – after five weeks there or a peak in the top 40. This week, we actually have a pretty hefty list of big hits, including “Fly Girl” by FLO featuring Missy Elliott, “Like Crazy” by Jimin (already), “The Kind of Love We Make” by Luke Combs, “Home for My Heart” by ArrDee and Cat Burns, “TRUSTFALL” by P!nk, “Afraid to Feel” by LF SYSTEM, “Riptide” by Vance Joy and finally, “Shivers” by Ed Sheeran which is actually only out due to the three song rule, and since Ed’s new single isn’t latching on, I think it’ll be back next week.

We do have two returning entries, both of which are bottom-feeders: “SLUT ME OUT” by NLE Choppa at #75 and “Make Me” by Borai and Denham Audio at #72. So for what’s actually filling up the gaps we need to look at our debuts – which will come later – and our notable gains, which this week is a short list but it includes “Karma” by Taylor Swift at #57, seemingly being the next single, “Flip a Switch.” by RAYE at #35 thanks to a remix with Coi Leray, “Cupid” by FIFTY FIFTY at #18 and finally making its way into the top 10 is “REACT” at #8, becoming Switch Disco’s first top 10 hit, Ella Henderson’s ninth and the first for the late Robert Miles since 1996, being his third overall.

This week’s top five on the UK Singles Chart is much of the same from last week, with “Calm Down” by Rema at #5, “People” by Libianca at #4, “Wish You the Best” by Lewis Capaldi falling to #3 but still pretty stable as it stays in the top 3, “Daylight” by David Kushner up to #2 (God, I hope this doesn’t stick around but it seems like it will) and of course, “Miracle” at the very top. Now, we have a batch of new arrivals that seems promising, or at least interesting, so let’s get through those.

NEW ARRIVALS

#71 – “Too Many Nights” – Metro Boomin and Future featuring Don Toliver

Produced by Metro Boomin, Honourable C.N.O.T.E. and Allen Ritter

We start our list of new arrivals with a great hip-hop song that has been streaming very well but took a while to get enough to chart... and our first of two this week, with the second being a more extreme example of both quality and time it took to chart. That’s not to say this cut from Heroes & Villains – boosted by its music video – is not worth checking out though as this was always one of my favourites from the album. Don sells the Travis Scott-esque nightclub decadence with a lot of frail uncertainty and desperate lingering as he battles against the wonderfully fuzzy bass which just goes all kinds of hard, as well as the sneaky keys making up the foundation of the beat, not that you can hear them at all outside of occasions with all the muddied, cloudy reverb they drip Don in, adding a lot of atmosphere to the track. The wiry synths in the pre-chorus alongside Don’s very percussive whining vocal make it even sleazier, in a way that really emphasises how he struggles to keep this woman with him considering how terribly he treats her: the manipulation, beating her both out and inside the house (I think he means sex, but he’s absolutely not clear), admitting that he often goes brainless and loses control. The luxury spending and drugs all seem like a way of roping her in, which is only emphasised by the Future verse, which due to the lack of drums and how he’s surrounded by melodramatic strings, feels like the man’s last words. If anything, I’d prefer the song go more in depth but its brief timespan makes perfect sense for the chaos Don causes, so I’d say this passes with flying colours. It’s still not “Walk Em Down (Don’t Kill Civilians)” but I’ll take this as a second hit from the record, it’s pretty great.

#66 – “Dancing is Healing” – Rudimental, Charlotte Plank and Vibe Chemistry

Produced by Rudimental, Vibe Chemistry and Billen Ted

It’s been a while since we saw Rudimental on the charts but thanks to some help from drum and bass outfit Vibe Chemistry and sly co-production from Billen Ted, they’re back with this new single clinging close to the bottom and is it any good? Well, I’m not a big Rudimental fan in the first place but their songs have always had a certain drive and energy to them I can appreciate even if I’m not impressed by any of the melodies or writing on display. I definitely hope that this song carries that drive since Charlotte Plank sounds like any other British dance-pop vocalist, and the writing is generic as all Hell, with the tempo change in the intro being a bit more awkward than I think was intended... so yeah, I’m glad I can forget all of that once it gets to the drum and bass drop, though even then it’s kind of muted, which makes no sense for a song wherein dancing is “heavy on your mind” according to the lyrics. The vocaloid drop is honestly kind of horrendous, it really sounds like it was all assembled in post, which is a shame because Rudimental, whilst again I’ve never been a fan, haven’t ever made a song before this that felt “wrong” or not complete. They’ve always been a pop act over an EDM act for at least as long as they’ve been charting, so this odd transitional track feels like it shouldn’t have really happened. So, yeah, this is just an oddly underwhelming track, which is a damn shame. I think it may be a case of too many cooks in the kitchen, considering the amount of writers and producers this had, which is always a risk to be ran when several production groups collaborate. I hope further singles from the upcoming Rudimental album are better is all I can say.

#62 – “Giving Me” – Jazzy

Produced by Belters Only

We’re giving the person who “sang” that Belters Only song a career seemingly, though for whatever reason, they aren’t credited as lead artists for their production on here – I figured it’d drive a couple more listens, honestly. Regardless, it’s here now, and I’m still not impressed. Her vocals are much better than in “Make Me Feel Good”, mostly because she’s on beat this time around, but she still doesn’t deliver anything that feels all that unique or impressive, especially not when she’s pasted onto a dull future house beat with zero atmosphere outside of an ugly bass synth that just feels cheap as all Hell. I’ll admit that the song is incredibly infectious but mostly as an infectious earworm than a sing-along hook, as the song is mind-numbingly repetitive with no real energy. It’s just a long, draining listen that feels three times long as its runtime states, which may actually be worse than a full-on trainwreck like “Make Me Feel Good”. I really don’t think has nearly enough character to stick around, but I’ve been wrong about EDM hits many a time before so watch this peak at #1 for 10 weeks. And no, for once, I’m not listening to the remixes.

#46 – “Boat” – Ed Sheeran

Produced by Aaron Dessner

“Eyes Closed” was a bit of an ease into the new era from Ed, but it seems that with this single, produced by Aaron Dessner of The National, who conveniently dropped a new album this week, Sheeran is giving us his full indie-folk pivot... right? Well, yeah, it sure is indie folk, with Ed crooning over distant acoustics about resilience, and guiding yourself through life... but it doesn’t do anything for me, which again like Rudimental is more than anything a damn shame since I’ve come to like Ed Sheeran a lot and was excited for a more human, alternative album from him. Yet whilst I appreciate the organic instrumentation which at some times is honestly kind of beautiful, this song needs to resonate with the listener a lot to really work, and to me, I don’t gain much from a motivational ballad like this. The frailty in Ed’s voice when he reassures himself that “the waves won’t break [his] boat” is a pretty striking refrain, showing the real insecurities and uncertainties he has amidst what is essentially a posturing chorus, but it’s not exactly a unique thematic conceit and one good line doesn’t save a sinking ship, no pun intended. I still like the song well enough but I wish it had some better, more personal lyrics, though I know that this will resonate with some people and it’s great that it will. For whoever it needs to help, I think it’ll do a damn good job – I’m just not in the demographic.

#37 – “Alone” – Kim Petras featuring Nicki Minaj

Produced by Dr. Luke and Rocco Did it Again!

This song samples “Better Off Alone” by Alice Deejay, which peaked at #2 in the UK. That song is one of my favourite ever pieces of music. I adore it with all my heart, and have already written about it extensively in my episode about the top 10 best hit songs of 2000. I’m not going to repeat myself here, but I will say that whilst I appreciate any attempt to change the meaning of a song being sampled, turning the transcendent “Better Off Alone”, a song that can bring out the most nuance and complexity – or a lack thereof, and only the basic instinct you feel hearing it – out of the simplest of lyrics and emotions – by all means, a beautiful song that makes me think about how we even consume music – into this basic, slimy song begging for sex, with little in the way of nuance or respect for anyone, produced by a rapist who has poked his way back into the industry through lazy sampling, pisses me off in particular, in a weirdly personal way. I try and let biases not get in the way for sampling because it’s beautiful and brilliant what can be done with the art of those before you... but there’s nothing pretty about this soulless, sleazy garbage. I know – I’m not focusing on the qualities of the song itself. “What about the vocal performance? What about the Nicki verse? What about the beat?” Do I have to if so much of its appeal is based on another song? By invoking that song, they invoke all of the audience’s feelings with that song, which is a great way of reinterpreting or simply reminding you of an older hit but there is a great deal of baggage. And I have a lot of personal attachment to “Better Off Alone”. It’s been sampled well, it can be done – Guapdad 4000 and MC Smallz did it – but this just feels like someone taking my first-born to a stadium and ensuring thousands were packed in the crowds before slitting its throat. Fuck this.

#36 – “See You Again” – Tyler, the Creator featuring Kali Uchis

Produced by Tyler, the Creator

Alright, since we’re being straightforward: this is one of the best love songs of all time. I don’t think I can do it much justice honestly, but it’s a fantastic song about being in love only within a fantasy and longing for that moment of intimacy before you lose the grip on that infatuation, living in that temporary moment of rose-tinted love. Apparently it was originally written for ZAYN... which would have made ZERO sense so I’m glad Tyler kept it for himself and Kali, as their performances help the song out a lot, not that its writing and composition needed it. The recurring “okay” motif keeps that balance between fantasy and reality, and Tyler’s strained falsetto is at its cutest and most naive here. It helps that his chemistry is off the charts with Kali here, who sounds heavenly over the full-feeling production... before we get that manic, obsessed verse from Tyler that adds a needed slice of his classic deep-belted rasp to the song. The playful in-between as Kali wraps around her lackadaisical vocalisations around Tyler’s mantra of “okay, okay” in the outro is a brilliant touch... and I haven’t even touched the instrumentation. The beeping synths act as a reminder of how temporary this do-no-wrong infatuations is amongst all the drizzling strings and brassy horns that struggle for main stage against the momentum-carrying claps, perfectly hitting that sense of uncertainty and urgency that comes with this infatuated stage. The immense bass of the verse sounds unfitting in concept, but combined with the bursts of horns and irking bleep synths, as well as Tyler’s youthful delivery, it sounds like a mind bloated by thoughts and daydreams, and when the bass finally finds itself hitting in that final chorus it is just a transcendent moment. And do I even need to mention the outro, with the military drums and the array of horns coming in at the perfect moment? Kali saying “one more time” as quickly as possible before the final burst of love-addled joy is one of my favourite moments in pop music, and I’m glad that for whatever reason, this song is getting its time in the Sun as it is fantastic... and somehow not even my favourite on Flower Boy, which should show you how incredible that album really is. Knowing what I know about Tyler, I’m sure he’s slightly annoyed that his older stuff is getting the recognition, but I don’t think he can be too mad about one his masterpieces finding a second wind.

#21 – “Twust” – HStikkytokky and General G

Produced by ???

In contrast, this is a song with a title in uWu speak by a guy who calls himself “HStikkytokky” – a name I think I’d consider if I were to name my worst enemy’s child – who doesn’t credit his producer. Surely, I don’t need to pretend that this is an actual song, right? Right? Welp, now that this is covered... this is Bad Boy Chiller Crew for people who are scared by the insinuation that they are “bad boys”. This is hip house for middle-class racists. Andrew Tate had better flows in his club-rap tracks, and somehow less misogyny than HStikkytokky, who essentially stole the Andrew Tate flow anyway. General G raps like the Louis Theroux novelty Auto-Tune remix is the only rap song he’s ever heard, and his Auto-Tune would make T-Pain consider if life was really worth living. This song is useless to me, you, and the people making it. Let’s move on.

#14 – “Double Fantasy” – The Weeknd featuring Future

Produced by The Weeknd, MIKE DEAN and Metro Boomin

It’s doubly weird to me that this week, a lead single from The Weeknd is not the highest debut, and we also get two Future-Metro collaborations debut at near the lowest and highest reaches of the chart. Regardless, this isn’t really that big of a deal: this is a soundtrack cut from The Weeknd’s HBO series THE IDOL. The song, by all means a bit of a throwaway, actually has a similar conceit to “Too Many Nights”: maintaining a relationship based on luxury and materialism rather than emotional connection or even moral standards, with the John Lennon and Yoko Ono reference seeming more questionable the more I look into it. I say that it’s not a big deal and it’s a throwaway not to downplay the single or its success but more so to temper expectations: it feels like whenever a really big A-lister who gets both critical and commercial acclaim drops something that doesn’t wow people, a bunch of fans come out the woodworks and say it’s underwhelming or express concerns about the career or even the quality of their music... when I don’t think they realise that consistency of quality is more important here, and The Weeknd is still bringing his A-game – alongside his great producers, MIKE DEAN and of course, Metro – to even his soundtrack singles. The warm sax cuts softly through the harsher, cold 80s synths that dress the track up in sleaziness but also a rich wealth that Abel furthers through his crooning. I adore the melody in the pre-chorus, which seems like it’s going to immediately end up in my head for the next year, and I love how it’s intertwined into the chorus – the two can’t exist without each other: it’s not just hooks on hooks; the song is composed to perfection. With that said, I do have some gripes: I expected Metro to bring out the Atlanta bass percussion but it and the bass feel like they’re interrupting the track a bit and culling its momentum. I’d prefer if they only came in for Future’s verse to give his liquid voice something more percussive to work off of. The looming 808s in the chorus are good but I’d prefer for them to rise and envelope the mix more. I’m also not too big on the weird baby vocal? I don’t really know why Abel put that there – and yes, I’m saying it’s Abel’s idea because come on, DEAN and Metro are beyond that, this has to be some weird artistic vision going on. Regardless of those gripes, the way the bassy percussion rattles is perfect for the nightclub setting, especially due to the addition of some video game sound effects within the groove in the chorus, and Abel’s performance is smooth as butter as always. And Future is Future: he’s toxic, he’s catchy, he’s effortless – I wish there were some ad-libs or extra production on his vocals just so he blended in further, but again, it’s a soundtrack cut. It’s not perfect, but there is a lot of quality here: the claps in the final pre-chorus and Future’s verse rake up the tension a lot, and the clash of ideas in this relationship is executed pretty well. It must be proof to the fact that Abel keeps his fans too well-fed that anyone could be complaining about this, honestly.

#11 – “Tony Soprano 2” – Nines

Produced by Swifta and Benji Miller

I completely forgot Nines existed, but he’s a UK rapper who had a surprise smash hit with this track and, uh... okay, so he released a song in 2018 called “Tony Soprano” which has a pretty cheap-sounding trap beat and monotone delivery. Why it needed a sequel I had no idea, but apparently the people were just raring to hear this second instalment. The song starts with a clip about a guy needing those “Nines double entendres” and “Nines metaphors” so it’s assumed that’s what he’ll provide, right? So where are they? I hear some basic flexing, and awfully corny punchlines about alphabet spaghetti and rap being secondary “like February”, delivered with as much effort and excitement as... actually, interrupting my simile, let’s point that out: it’s a simile. If you say “like” or “as”, it’s not a metaphor, it’s a simile. Every one of Nines’ “metaphors” is a simile. He has no neck LIKE he’s playing Rayman. He’s driving through the other side LIKE it was Sesame Street. This sounds like nit-picking but what else am I supposed to say? He doesn’t care, he sounds half-asleep and anything he raps feels less like a clever lyric than just a random cultural reference tacked onto flexing and gang talk over an icy trap beat. If Nines really put effort into this verse, then I feel sorry for the guy at the beginning. I wonder if he’s disappointed.

Conclusion

Other than a few gems, this really wasn’t that impressive of a week, but it should be painfully obvious where both extremes go. Best of the Week goes to Tyler, the Creator and Kali Uchis for “See You Again” and Worst of the Week goes to Dr. Luke more than anyone for “Alone”. The others are a bit tougher, with the Honourable Mention essentially split between two Future-Metro Boomin collaborations, though I think “Too Many Nights” with Don Toliver just slightly edges out “Double Fantasy”, which is of course still worth a listen. I’ll always stand that sheer incompetence is at least some entertainment factor and being dull is the real sin, so the Dishonourable Mention goes to my old friends over at Belters Only for “Giving Me” with Jazzy. As for next week, I honestly have no idea how much of this will actually last, like all of these debuts feel particularly temporary, regardless of if I like them or not. For now, thanks for reading and I’ll see you next week!

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materialsandmediaiiimaddyfisher · 2 years

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Final Design Elements:

Font Choice:

The typefaces/fonts I chose to use were ‘Handsome Pro Classic’, Handsome Pro Nib’, and ‘Articulat CF’. I used the ‘Articulat CF’ font for the more basic/simple elements of the text such as ‘Well the reason why...” and I used the more bold/fancy font for key words such as ‘Singing” to emphasise it further. I then added effects onto these to make it pop.

Colour:

I was pretty basic when it came to choosing my colour palette. I decided to go with red as throughout my research I found it was the most common colour associated with theatre, as well as it being a popular,ar colour in the 1970′s which was around the time she sang. I kept the monotone colours of black and white as well to create both contrast and balanced amongst the red.

Effects and Transitional Movement:

I found that my person Kiri Te Kanawa speaks very fast so at first I really struggled with transitioning/timing it right with the flow of the words matching the voice over. It took me some time to get it right but I just adjusted the length through the time stretch button and dragged things such as digital imagery on and off the page as well as colour blocks (backgrounds) and type. I mainly used the ‘Typewriter’ effects throughout my designs to keep it all cohesive and flowing however for the key words sometimes I used effects that gave off more of a vibe with the word and helped emphasise it further.

Digital Illustrations:

I created some digital illustrations as there were a few key words in my voice over that I wanted to imply through imagery. I created these digital drawings on Adobe Illustrator and then imported them across to After Effects. I am going to experiment with this and add effects to these to make them pop slightly more.

Background:

As for the background I kept it fairly simple fluctuating between both a solid white background and a solid red background to match my colour theme and change it up occasionally.

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uglypastels · 2 years

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steve and fem!reader after dating for a while, have their first time??

I m sorry this took an entire day, I had so much personal shit to get through, but eeeeek thank you for sending this request in!!! i m so happy to finally post some writing again haha. just hope its good. :)

Stranger Things (Eddie || Steve) Requests??

warning: didnt proofread it. smut (characters in story are 18+// minors DNI) drinking, partying. unprotected sex, semi public?? in car stuff. i think that's it.

[contains no actual plot points of the show -> no spoilers]

If you enjoy the blurb please reblog and comment ❤❤ i'd love to hear what you thought of it and its a great way to support content makers

The house was filled with drunk and rowdy people, you happily being one of them. The music played loud through the entire living room, only emphasised by the claps, stomping feet and off-key sing-along of the words. A punch might have been spilt over you, but you didn’t care. It added to the experience.

A pair of slender arms wove their way around your waist, letting you spin around to face your boyfriend. He smiled his cockish smile, intoxicated by a mixture of the alcohol and his adoration for you.

‘Hey hot stuff,’ you had to practically shout the words for him to hear them over the music. ‘What have you been up to?’ You asked since he had been gone for the duration of about two songs, leaving you to fend for yourself on the make-shift dancefloor.

‘I wanted to get us some drinks, but those dipshits didn’t buy any of the good stuff!’ He shouted over the music as well, the length of the sentence making him take a deep breath by the end of it. You looked over Steve’s shoulder, trying to spit the open kitchen counter where the bar had been set up. Most of the bottles, once filled with cheap liquor, were empty or spilt over. No full beer cans were to be found.

In the meantime, Steve pulled you in closer, swaying your bodies to the music. He usually got handsy when he had something in his system. Usually, one drink was enough to loosen him up. That same amount was also enough to open up a different side to you as well. Steve always teased you for it, deservedly so, as you got incredibly handsy with him, and one drink was all it took. It’s not that you didn’t want to be all over him when completely sober, but without the Dutch courage, you were way too much in your head about it. And you didn’t want to overthink it, that’s not what it was supposed to be like. Your past relationships were enough proof that you could do it without that extra bittersweet support.

The thing with Steve, you supposed, was that you really really liked him. More than any other person you had been with. So, that made the things that never really mattered before suddenly very important. You wanted things, maybe not necessarily to be perfect, but at least as close to it as possible.

‘Hey, Stevie,’ you lean into him, so you can speak in a somewhat hushed tone, let no one hear you call him that nickname he hates but secretly really likes.

‘What’s up, babe?’ His hand finds the hem of your shirt and squeezes it in his grip.

‘It’s getting a bit hot here, don’t you think?’ You try to look at him as innocently as possible, but neither of you can really contain your laughter as you do so.

‘A bit, I suppose, want me to get you some water?’ He was teasing you, you knew it.

‘No, that’s fine. I was just thinking. Maybe… you wanna get out of here?’ With that, you close the gap between you, catching his lips in a soft kiss. He accepts it immediately, pressing you close to him, enjoying the feeling of your body against his. For that short moment, there was no one around you, no other dancing hectically, pushing or prodding. It was just you and him until you had to pull away for air.

‘That,’ he kissed your cheek once, softly, ‘was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘Oi, Harrington.’

‘No, really, y/n. I expect better from you.’ He pouted playfully. His hand, in the meantime, wandered off your hip and his fingers found themselves entwined with yours. ‘C’mon then.’ You felt silly for the size of your smile as he pulled you through the crowd to the door, but the adrenaline and excitement took over. Outside, the warm summer air greeted you with the smell of upcoming rain. A long line of cars stood parked along the curb of the road, all the way until the end of the street, possibly even beyond it. Steve didn’t let go of your hand all the way until you reached his ‘83 BMW and even then, he let you push him against the side, closing him in. With your arms around his neck, lips locked on lips, you had him in a steady grip filled with bliss.

‘Have I ever told you,’ he mumbled when you pulled out for air once more, ‘that you taste like cherry coke?’ You had discovered the drink over the previous summer and it had quickly become your favourite. You replied to his comment by giving him one more kiss.

‘Hmm, well you taste like caramels.’ He had eaten some earlier, you remembered, and the sweet taste mixed well with the alcohol. And it had been a long day, where most of the product in his hair had lost its magic, so you could easily brush your fingers through it, pull it slightly. The groan that followed vibrated through his lips onto yours.

The longer the kiss lasted the deeper, rougher, it got. That feeling was bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, the one you had missed and yet kept pressing under and shoving away, never feeling like it was the right time. But as you were making out with your boyfriend against his car, having just run out of a house party of… you didn’t even know whose house that was… but you realised, there would probably never be a perfect time. It didn’t matter.

‘Steve-’ a moan escaped past the rest of your words. ‘Do you want to-’ You didn’t really know how to ask it. Even though both of you were on the exact same wavelength and he would have known what you wanted without a single word, you still wanted to ask, and yet the words didn’t work. It felt silly to ask something like it.

But no matter how silly, it was Steve and Steve got you. He rummaged in his pocket for the car keys and then, to your dislike, turned around to unlock the door. You halted him for a second.

‘No, get the back door.’ At this, he seemed a bit confused. But just for a second. His eyes widened in realisation.

‘Are you sure? We can drive up to the lake, maybe?’

‘It will take forever to get up there and I don’t feel like waiting.’ You let yourself into the car once he opened the backdoor. He watched you slip in on the backseat. If he had a die on, you had imagined yourself pulling him in by it as they did in the movies, but unfortunately, all he had was a t-shirt. ‘I need you, Steve. Now. Please.’

Steve cursed under his breath as the car door slammed behind him. A nervous hand brushed his hair back as he exhaled, somewhat heavily. But then, after a small moment of processing the situation, a switch flipped inside of him. The next second, he grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you into him. He let you sit on his lap while getting on with the buttons on your shirt.

‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked once your bra was becoming more and more visible between the open buttons.

‘Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Just not what I had expected our first time to be.’ He chuckled, more to himself.

‘You thought about it?’ Heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of him planning out your first time. It was an unexpected sensitiveness that you had seen make an appearance in Steve that still managed to surprise you.

‘Honestly, don’t make me tell you how often I’ve thought about taking you and making you all mine.’ His voice was soft in your ear, but the words gave it an edge that shook you to your core, hitting that one spot deep in your stomach again. ‘Fill you up hard like you should be, baby.’

‘Fuck, Steve.’ He hadn’t even touched you yet and you could feel the heat pool down between your legs.

‘That’s right. You know what’s good for you.’ Even if you had your eyes closed you could have bet his smirk was plastered all across his handsome face. And then his hand travelled down too, the cold of his fingers making you jump slightly when he touched your bare thigh– a pro of summer weather and clothes, the shorts you were wearing already exposed most of your body to him, except for what you needed him to tough the most.

‘You’re probably already so wet for me, so needy.’ He started rubbing slow circles over your centre, his eyes glued to your face to read of any approval or discomfort, any sign he needed to see what to do to make you feel as good as possible. It was the most pleasurable torture you had ever felt, a feeling of a never nearing contentment. Steve knew what he was doing, even when experimenting to see what you were into, he moved deliberately, changing his pace and movements. He’d add pressure when your head would move back, and slow back down when your lips parted softly.

You held on to his shoulders, doing your best not to grind against him, but eventually,

things were taking too long.

‘So fucking needy,’ he smiled at the feeling of your thighs grinding against his. ‘ Need me so bad?’

‘You know I do. Always.’

‘Always huh?’ He kissed your cheek, brushing some loose hair out of your face, ‘and what do you think about then?’

‘Just… you know… you, fucking me.’

‘Well, I don’t want to keep you waiting for much longer, then, baby,’ he half-whispered and you definitely didn’t need to hear it twice. Given the space of the car, it happened with a little difficulty and little comfort, but eventually, you both managed to get rid of your clothes. It all happened so fast, that you weren’t even sure what you had done to your clothing, or what had happened to his. You were sitting in the backseat of his car, naked. The windows were already steaming up from the heat of your bodies and the heavy breathing.

‘Just tell me if you need a break or to stop, ok?’ There he was again, that soft side of his. The careful and sweet Steve that you fell fall all those years ago. You nodded, telling him you would if you’d need to and the deal was sealed as he kissed you once more. This was a much more gentle kiss, but not a bit less passionate.

As it went on, he held your hip and managed to slip inside you. It wasn’t the easiest process given your position and, again, the size of the car, but it worked and once it worked you couldn’t help but let the moan out that your body had been holding in for who knew how long. A sigh of relief, almost, at the feeling of him stretching your walls like no one had before. He let you get familiar with the feeling before moving. Slowly, at first, finding the comfort between both your bodies, but it didn’t take long for you both to realise you needed more.

‘Fuck,’ he hissed as he moved faster, harder, hitting all the right spots inside you. Soon his mouth found its way to your chest, leaving sloppy kisses over your soft skin. The way his mouth felt on you stopped you from caring if anything he did would leave a mark. No one would be able to see it anyway, even in your smallest bathing suit.

‘I’m-’ you gasped at another hard thrust. The knot within you was tightening, you could both feel it, and it Steve’s slower speed was an indicator of anything, you imagined he was getting there too, maybe even faster than you.

‘Steve- oh my god,’ your head rolled back when his hand came back to your bundle of nerves, moving his fingers in swift circles, adding that much-needed pressure, that you hadn’t even known yourself you needed. How he knew, you might never know, but you would never complain either. Not when the release that followed was so sweet and mind-fogging.

‘There you go. I got you. I got you.’ He kissed the top of your head as your breathing started to slow down. ‘I got you, baby.’

He held you close in his arms until you started to feel cold again. He handed you his shirt from underneath the seat, as yours was nowhere to be found in the darkness, and after quickly pulling up his trousers, he drove you back to his place to continue your night in a slightly more comfortable manner.

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exyandotherobsessions · 3 years

Text

can you write about andrew calling neil captain as a joke but he likes it so much that andrew regularly call him it in bed

~~~

“Just shut up unless you want ten more laps.”

“Damn Neil,” started Nicky, making a gesture of zipping his lips up. “Didn’t know you were as bad as Kevin.”

“Fifteen.”

“Shutting up now.”

Sighing, Neil brushed away the curls of hair falling in front of his eyes before leaving Nicky to his lunges. With Dan and Kevin on some sort of promotional trip for the day, Neil was left to lead the foxes’ training. Granted, the idea sounded much better as just that— an idea. But no one could deny⁠— he was effective.

Blonde and black on orange caught in the corner of his eye, and with a quick jog, he arrived at the other end of the court.

“Having fun?”

Leaned against the goal was Andrew, plucking at the net of his racket with a disinterested look on his face.

“Actually, yes,” replied Neil. They’d barely started, yet Neil’s shirt was already sticking to his torso with sweat. “Are you planning on doing anything?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Just a few rounds?”

“Hope must be a blinding thing.”

“Fine,” said Neil, pulling a light scowl. “But you’re covering the goal so the rest of them can practice.”

“Yes captain.”

The word was barely uttered, yet Neil heard it loud and clear over the chatter behind them. His face flushed a deep red and for a split second he froze. To his embarrassment, Andrew seemed to have picked up on it, raising an eyebrow.

“Flustered much?”

“Shut up.”

“Or I’ll get ten laps?”

Neil simply replied with a glare.

~~~

For an strenuous hour (though they’d all have sworn it was two), Neil went on yelling orders to the others. If they were being honest, practice was slightly irritating, possibly because of Neil’s favouritism to a certain blond goalkeeper. But no one could deny; it was almost the most effective they’d been in weeks.

That being said, they were still exhausted, practically dragging themselves out of court. And after a tiring morning of practice, Neil would have been perfectly content spending the rest of the day on Andrew’s lap, or skimming through a math textbook that Nicky had once threatened to burn.

“Wait— Neil hasn’t been to the ice cream place on fifth street, has he?”

But apparently, Nicky had other ideas. Neil sighed redundantly.

“Really?” Asked Matt, frantically turning to face Neil. “Have we seriously never taken you?”

“No, but I don’t really⁠—”

"Well, would you like to⁠—” started Renee, quickly interrupted.

“We’re going now! And you,” emphasised Nicky, pointing directly at Neil, his finger just falling short of Neil’s chest. “Are coming with us.”

With a helpless look on his face, Neil turned to Andrew for some sort of help. But Andrew merely shrugged and turned to Neil. “Have a problem, captain?”

After almost missing his step and falling flat on his face, Neil resisted the very strong urge to roll his eyes.

“As a matter of fact,” started Neil, making deliberate eye contact with Andrew’s unbothered face. “No, I don’t. We’re going.”

That seemed to elicit some sort of reaction from Andrew, even if it were only his eyebrows twitching up slightly in surprise. Neil took it as success, though his satisfaction was quickly wiped away by the rest of their smiling faces rushing him to the car.

Though he wouldn’t admit how contagious their excitement was.

~~~

If Neil was being honest, the place wasn’t half bad.

With bright blue walls and an overenthusiastic waiter, it was practically trademark to the underclassmen, and came with no surprise. Squeezing into a booth, he was grateful for the way Matt next to him tried his best in a feeble attempt to give Neil some space. Neil threw a glance at Andrew, who seemed surprisingly void of regret.

“No, shut up Neil,” started Allison.

“I didn’t— ”

Aggressively, she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “I’m ordering for you. Because a plain vanilla ice cream is not an acceptable choice.”

The way she said it, you’d think Neil had committed a war crime.

“Don’t worry about Allison—” said Nicky, waving her off. “This place is her lifeforce, just smile and wave is my advice.”

Neil noted the way he seemed to have perfectly mastered the art of ignoring Allison shooting daggers with her stares.

Daggers turned to smiles as the waiter came over to the table. As if on script, each person recited their order on cue— except for Neil, whose pleading look was unfortunately not enough to bag a choice.

With a glance, Neil observed as Allison sent a wary glare to Andrew, waiting for his order. And he watched as her look went from wary to puzzled with his dry response.

“Tell the captain to choose for me.”

No words in any of the numerous languages Neil knew were strong enough to describe the feelings that flew through Neil, all at once.

The emphasis on a certain word was obvious, and Nicky’s stare was uncomfortably knowing. And Neil certainly wasn’t the only one blushing faintly.

Only Renee seemed utterly unfazed. “I’d suppose that’s Neil?”

At Neil’s scowl she responded, “…as he’s the captain of the team for the time being, of course?”

Watching tense faces melt slowly, Neil sent a much more grateful look, for which he was rewarded with a glowing smile.

“The same for him, please.”

“So…” started Nicky. “Practice was hard, huh?”

“No,” mumbled Allison. “The captain was.”

“Well I for one have no doubt that Neil would make a delightful captain.”

Neil passed a small smile to Renee.

“As long as we’ve all graduated before.”

“Well, Allison,” started Neil. “It’s not my fault you were sloppy on your—”

“It’s not my fault you left us too tired after warm ups to actually play anything decently!”

“I agree with her, actually,” added Nicky.

“Oh really? Because you weren’t perfect eith —"

“I was glowing, thank you very much.”

The deadpan stare on Neil’s face was answer enough. Allison tried to hide her grin. Something about a riled up Neil was so easily entertaining. And somewhere at the edge of the seat, Andrew shared a glance with Renee, silently thinking the same thing.

Eventually amongst the bickering, came a voice. “Your orders are here, ma’am.”

The waiter looked baffled— so baffled that Neil had to let out a chuckle. Placing down the ice creams that looked too large to be real onto the tables, he disappeared almost as quickly as he came.

“Well,” started Renee, trying to break the silence. “What are Andrew’s thoughts on practice?”

Perking up ever-so-slightly, Andrew said smoothly. “I was just obeying the captain.”

And with that, he ignored the almost flustered breath Neil took in as he shot a world-class glare. If looks could kill, almost everyone at the table would certainly be in danger. Most certainly Andrew.

But his stare was as blank as ever.

~~~

If Neil knew how the evening would turn out, maybe he wouldn’t have pushed himself to exhaustion during training.

Sprawled over the floor with his math book laid out in front of him he flicked through the pages, skimming the pages disinterestedly. Every couple seconds— though he wouldn’t admit it⁠— he stole glances of Andrew, staring vaguely into the air. Numbly, his mind was going over the events of the day, and Neil couldn’t help a certain, faint blush that overcame certain moments.

When the keys jangled, and Nicky left the house, a small glance was shared between the two. Funnily enough, the bed seemed awfully empty all of a sudden.

It started out with small kisses. Andrew’s lips were soft against Neil’s— something that he was grateful for, what with being thoroughly exhausted.

Fingers trailed over bare skin, and with every small touch, Neil felt his breath quiver. With sudden contact, Neil felt his back against the wall. Letting a heated breath out, he felt Andrew’s lips travel over his neck and collarbone, exploring his skin. With Neil’s elbows resting on his shoulders, he let Andrew lead the way.

Soft kisses gradually became more passionate, until both of them were ready for more. Meeting Andrew’s eyes, Neil pushed back ruffled strays of auburn hair.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, captain.”

The sigh that escaped him was answer enough.

#thanks for the askkk #sorry this is lateee #but more importantly #i am so so sorry i had to subject you to my pathetic attempt at heated scenes #i cant write anything near smut #and i am aware #i shall pay for my sins i know 😔#andreil #andreil fanfiction #andrew minyard #andrew minyard fanfiction #neil josten #neil josten fanfiction #aftg #all for the game #aaron minyard #aftg fanfiction

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