#LIKE PLEASE…FUCKING HELL

[condenhorn]

stack + SUBMISSIVE black gn!reader

content: NSFW, public, intoxication, oral, face fucking, dub-con, submissive reader!!

a/n: i’m down bad please…this movie has me in shambles. expect more of these characters in the future. first time writing dub-con too. the reader is SUBMISSIVE in this one, not dominant. ty for reading! <3

After what seemed like eons dancing to the music in the juke joint, you finally sat down at the bar. Asking somebody behind the counter for a drink to cool off. Legs the equivalence of jelly but you continued to sway and bopped to the rhythmic blues that came from various people alike.

To work their way in the day and dance it out all night till dawn. A balance of such things to be rid of all the stressors prior to this moment. And such relievers were the people, the drinks, the music…hell, you wished it could last a little longer than a night. But you were grateful enough to be here.

Someone sat beside you, a man boisterous with the similar ambience, talking it up with everyone at the bar. Paying little attention, you ordered another drink. The buzzing in your chest grew by the seconds sipping your drink, drowning in a euphoric haze.

The more you looked at the loud, yet entertaining scenery of the people swarming Stack—what he was called—the more you were interested in the conversation. But you steadied away at your third drink while the latter called the bartender for an Old Fashioned. Once the noise dissipated, he took sight of you. His eyebrows rose as fast as they normalized, taking a sip of his drink.

He chuckles with a gulp sliding down your throat, warming you up with a fuzz. Your eyes struggled to stay open, time passing the giddy yet blissful tenderness, the heat spreading like a wilderness fire.

“Damn…”

Stack spoke, he gets his drink from the server and takes a long sip before putting his glass down, the drink half empty.

"What a lil' thing like you doin' here?"

Dark brown dipped into yours. Lingering undertones of a coy suggestion toiling in the back of Stack's throat, but he held his tongue. Though as you continued to look at him, he got closer, a strong smell of cigarettes and alcohol muttered around the noisy atmosphere.

Calling the bartender for another drink, Stack sipped the rest of his Old Fashioned, flipping it upside down on the counter with a clink in beat with fast-paced blue's music played by Delta Slim and others.

The giddiness elevated tenfold with a goofy grin as you and Stack talked amongst each other. The both of you ordering more drinks and a few shots as the night went on. You couldn't recall when Stack started paying for yours.

“Must be a lightweight if ya can’t keep them pretty eyes open.”

A jab at you as you taste tested each other's drink, a compliment at yours while you bristled at how strong his was. You couldn’t recall when you got up to dance again. Dancing and jiving with others in a dance circle clamorous. Until a slow-moving song announced its welcome, everyone partnering up with someone. The con man however was quick to take your hand for a dance, a brush against your hand with the burning smell of whiskey.

Glazed eyes, a slurry tone, a smirk that spoke of a mischief’s plan. Voice smooth as honey but sweeter than a honeycomb. His fingers grazed your lips as he licked his, prying yours to feel your tongue on the volar surface.

A vague examination he plead for only added the excitement, but a barely cohesive agreement aligned toyed with what fragmented a concur from blind sedation. The fuzziness had him on the ropes.

With a pull of his lips, exemplifying his wicked silver capped grin, Stack gestured you to his car. An arm around your waist as he pushed you to the back seat, mumbling a stammering line of vocables through osculation.

The back car door now open, him standing outside and your head hanging out the door. The man was quick to unbuckle his pants and reveal his cock—vivacious and rigid—centimeters away from your face, pumping in perfunctory guidance. A tangled, coiled up bush of hair nestled above it as well as a few strands on his hanging but sturdy and thronged balls.

Feeling your hole twitch and your mouth water, your tongue lolls out without much thought. He moves closer to tease and taunt with his cock tapping the surface. A taste of him was salty with the glaze of precum, but the sweaty musk from wearing slacks in the beaming sun came to rattle senses as he pressed palms on melanated skin, gliding in.

Your mouth stiffed of his essence, his voice in low tones of gratification. How snug, moist, a tight fit palpitating with his tip pressing against the esophagus. Heftiness on your tongue, gliding against the bumpy texture with sloppy movements.

The suspense of the old mill doors opening each time someone comes outside struck a blazing heat to your core comparing to the percolating cool. Alongside your heat, Stack’s cock twitched in your throat, almost wanting someone to see how you were taking him in your mouth.

Slow, small strokes building up to longer drags of belabor, fingers latched over your neck easing himself into warm, cushioned lips wrapped around velvet softness. Spit dribbles down your chin as the pace adjusted into autonomy. But it being short lived, Stack quickened with careless, lackadaisical bursts—in conjunction with his personality.

Stack dug deeper, groaning as your throat contracted around him, precum drizzling down your windpipe. His musky scent intoxicated your nose with pubic hair tickling your skin.

Must’ve been the liquor that gave you the confidence to do more as you hollowed your cheeks, dragging your lips with lewd noising filling the atmosphere. The cold pressure of his rings digging into your neck made you gag but the man didn’t care. He wanted you to take all of him down your moist, cavernous mouth.

It wasn’t hard to tell that he was about to cum. Cheeks vacuumed in repeatedly as you warmed yourself into some sort of pace with what Stack’s unfamiliarity caused. A wave of curses fell upon your ears as his cock quivered at such intensity that he made you bottom out. Expecting yourself to gag, you didn’t, as he shot ropes.

The salty tasted burned with the alcohol, almost bitter. A gel consistency sliding down with such ease but he pulled out without warning, shooting milky-white on your face.

[luwha]

Not telling y'all that you should be able to identify AI slop (but it is a valuable skill, you totes should), but if you're to be accusing artists of being AI left and right at least go and do your homework, or at least do the bare minimum and use AI identification tools like Hive Moderation, so you 1- don't ruin someone's lifehood 2- don't make a clown out of yourself maybe

Like, i get it, AI slop and "AI artists" pretending to be genuine is getting harder and harder to identify, but just accusing someone out of the blue and calling it a day doesn't make it any better.

The AI clowns shifted to styles that have less "tells" and the AI arts are becoming better. Yeah, it sucks ass.

They're also integrating them with memes, so you chuckle and share, like those knights with pink backgrounds, some cool frog and a funny one liner, so you get used to their aesthetic.

This is an art from the new coming set Final Fantasy for MtG. This is someone on Reddit accusing someone of using AI. From what i can tell, and i fucking hate AI, there is NO AI used on this image.

As far as i can tell and as far as any tool i've used, the Artist didn't use AI. which leads to the next one:

they accused the artist of this one of using Ai. the name of this artist is Nestor Ossandon.

He as already been FALSELY ACCUSED of using AI, because he drew a HAND THAT LOOKED A LITTLE WEIRD, which caused a statement from D&D Beyond, confirming that no AI has been used.

Not to repeat mysef, they're accusing the art above, that is by Nestor, to have used Ai.

REAL artists are not machines. And just like the AI slop, we are not perfect and we make mistakes. The hands we draw have wonky fingers sometimes. The folds we draw are weird. But we are REAL. We are real people. And hey, some of our "mistakes" sometimes are CHOICES. Artistic choices are a thing yo.

If you're to accuse someone of using Ai, i know it's getting hard to identify. But come on. At least do your due diligence.

[ltorekdraws]

the fuck i made

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

hot garbage 👇

[witch--btch]

Sleeping positions…

Official Art by Satoru Nii

[stickbug-art]

Have this terrible image I found ☺️🔫

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking of a new steddie fic/au hmmm.

It’s just the classic, Steve buys weed from Eddie in season 1 era, he and Tommy meet him at the bench in the woods behind school. Steve and Eddie have some playful banter and clearly get along, but it’s dismissed as just a drug deal and they go on about their lives.

Next time they meet is when a frantic Steve comes and finds Eddie after he’s just fought off the demogorgon for the first time. He’s rattled, and skittish, wearing a nasty black bruise on his eye, and just overall not acting like himself. He snaps at Eddie multiple times to just ‘hurry up’ and ‘get him his stuff’, and sure he’s being an asshole, but more than anything Eddie is just concerned. He has never seen The King Steve Harrington lose his cool like this. So Eddie cautiously gives him the weed, making sure not to give too much, and lets him go about his day, but not before asking if he’s alright. Steve clearly wasn’t expecting this and brushes it off defensively, but that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about it for the rest of his week. How the hell did Eddie Munson notice something was wrong, when his own parents didn’t? Nor his “friends”?

They cross paths again a year later, the beginning of season two. Steve is still with Nancy and has freshly dumped his old douchebag crew of superficial friends. He is still sitting quite comfortably on the higher ranks of popularity, but there is no denying his status is not what it used to be. He comes to buy weed from Eddie in the first week back at school, and it’s a casual interaction. He’s still as charmingly stuck up as he ever was, but now without Tommy there to judge his every move, he seems a little more at ease when making casual conversation with Eddie. Eddie doesn’t mention the year before and Steve is so glad for it, secretly very embarrassed that he went to Eddie for some refuge after arguably his most traumatic experience to date. He gets his stuff, giving Eddie a smirk when he notices he’s dropped the price significantly for Steve when it’s just him alone. Eddie gives him a challenging smile back, almost daring him to call it out, but he doesn’t. They both just laugh and part ways.

The next run in is tina’s halloween party. They notice eachother when Steve first arrives, making eye contact and giving a polite nod. Maybe Eddie lifts his drink up to Steve in a silly salute. They don’t speak at all or make any effort to hang around eachother. That is, until Steve storms down the stairs in a rage after he’d gone up there with Nancy Wheeler. But then are those- tears? Eddie was standing on the front porch smoking a cigarette, trying to discreetly hide from one Billy Hargrove to avoid having to sell him anything, but staying visible enough that he won’t lose all chances of making any money tonight. Steve storms right past him and hits his shoulder. Eddie whips around and is about to call him a dick before he sees who it is.

Steve tries to quickly wipe his face, he won’t make eye contact with Eddie, and he’s clearly trying to get out as fast as he can. Eddie doesn’t let him, though, since he’s obviously not thinking very clearly and is most likely about to do something emotional and stupid. He asks if Steve’s alright, and his answers are all short and rushed, so he’s definitely not. They’re not really friends, but Eddie’s not an asshole.

— “Did you drive?” Eddie asks

“Yeah”

“Well, you’re drunk, Steve. You can’t get behind a wheel right now. And if I knowingly let you, then that makes me an accomplice. I’ll take you home.”

Steve tries to protest, attempting to push past him, but Eddie interjects. “Yeah, yeah, alright! Don’t thank me yet, Steve’o. This is not for you, see, I’m not trying to get a criminal record, here. I cant go to prison, Steve. Do you know what they’d do to a pretty guy like me in prison? Nope, let’s go hot stuff.” —

Eddie takes Steve home. They don’t talk much. By the time they reach Steve’s drive way and Eddie has put his van in park, Steve is making no attempt to exit the vehicle just yet. Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he didn’t really plan this far, so he’s just tapping away awkwardly at his steering wheel while Harrington stares down the dashboard so clearly lost in thought Eddie fears his head might explode. Steve tells Eddie what happened, says it’s ‘relationship troubles’, and he’s not quite sure what compelled him into being so honest with Eddie Munson, but he’s blaming the alcohol. Eddie wasn’t expecting that. They chat for a bit, Eddie makes Steve laugh and considers the whole night a success after that. Then they start cracking jokes about their shared hatred for Hargrove, and Steve looks and sounds a bit more ok to go inside. He thanks Eddie, quite sincerely actually, and it throws him a bit. He stutters a ‘yeah, for sure. It’s no problem.’ And Steve goes home.

After that, it’s a little different. Steve, doesn’t actually really have anyone, anymore. When they go back to school he’s now greeting Eddie here and there in the hallways, making conversation when they find themselves alone together, in the lunch line or at the bathroom sink. He doesn’t approach Eddie when there’s too many people around, though. As much as he’s grown, Steve Harrington still carry’s some prejudice in him about how certain things may make him look. But it doesn’t bother Eddie too much. It’s not like they are really friends, they’re just like, strange acquaintances. And Steve would never deny that they get along, that really Eddie’s ‘not so bad’. So that’s a win.

Steve finds Eddie again not long after the party to buy some more weed, a plan that sparked purely out of boredom. Eddie says yes, of course, but tells him if he wants it today he will need to wait till after school and meet Eddie at his place, since he was busy. So Steve takes a trip to the Munson trailer to make his deal. Eddie invites him inside and they sit together on the couch as he gets Steve’s bag ready. They end up making quite pleasant conversation, joking around and ultimately finding they are really enjoying each other’s company. They enjoy it so much so, that Steve ends up smoking there, with Eddie. So now they are kind of like, hanging out? And it’s fun, so they do it again. Still they’re not, friends friends, they just get along. Eddie just sells Steve weed sometimes and they keep it civil.

He doesn’t hear from Steve for a while, and the next time he sees him it’s from a distance, in passing. The man has the most roughed up face Eddie has ever seen, bruised and swollen in multiple areas, stitches and bandages all over. It’s really, concerning? completely metal, but alarming. This is the second time Eddie has seen the guy all beaten up like that. He knew that boys fight, but surely not that bad? As worried as he was, Eddie doesn’t approach him to ask questions, because they don’t know eachother like that. So he goes on about his day, and he doesn’t see Steve again after that for quite some time.

Then it’s summer, Eddie isn’t graduating again, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself over the break. The new mall has just opened up, and there’s a cool music store up on the second floor that he likes to visit sometimes with his band friends. And wouldn’t you know, working at the Scoops Ahoy located directly across from his favourite store, is Steve Harrington. The guy hasn’t come to Eddie for any weed since last year, and then there was that sighting where he looked like he’d just fallen face first into a flying fist or two, so it’s been a minute since Eddie’s seen him. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a nice surprise. He only goes into scoops once. He’s curious, okay? Sue him. And, he knows the girl who works with him, Robin. So he plays it off like he had no idea he’d see Steve there. And to his surprise, Steve actually acknowledges him. He doesn’t act like Eddie is a total stranger just because they’re not in school anymore. The interaction is quick, they make very casual conversation, Eddie says hi to Robin, grabs his milkshake and goes home. That’s all. He doesn’t go back, and he doesn’t really plan to. Steve’s nice, and he knows Eddie’s around if he needs to buy from him again, and that’s really as far as their relationship goes. That’s all it ever was. It’s been fun getting to know Steve Harrington a little bit better, even if it was just for a short time. Eddie liked having the chance to see in past the quaffed hair and pressed polo shirts to learn that Steve was really just a person under it all. He never thought he’d say it, but Harrington wasn’t so bad. It was a nice little eye opening experience for Eddie.

Eddie was ready to write off his little blips of interaction with Steve Harrington as a thing of the past, no hard feelings, and move on with his life. That is, until he gets a knock at his front door in the middle of the night afew days after the big mall fire. And it’s Steve on the other side. And he looks awful, his face is the worst Eddie’s ever seen it. And he wasn’t really knocking, more like pounding. He says he needs Eddie’s help.

What the fuck?

[08-47]

it shall be cuboided soon

[erandraws]

I know a 3 for 3 for Laura is great but I think a Dorym silken squall wedding one-shot would eat so incredibly hard

Also, tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of starting Critical Role. This show literally changed my life. I’m so grateful that I get to watch these friends play this game every week, even if I have to wake up at 4 am for it (yes I’m coming out as European I literally willingly wake up every friday at 4 am to watch the new episodes live even though I have Beacon). But anyway enough sappy stuff. This piece (which is my greatest piece ever, let’s be honest) includes a lot of cute details which I will highlight under the cut!

First, these are Dorian and Orym’s full outfits that I had pre-drawn so it would make the process much easier. I did swap out some little things.

Now for the final piece:

- Dorian’s wedding ring includes an emerald (obv bc Orym’s color is green. And it has leaves wrapped around to symbolize Orym’s ties to nature. I did use a lovely reference for this ring from pinterest. Even though Orym’s wedding ring doesn’t show here, I would like to think it has a blue sapphire surrounded by swirly wind designs to symbolize Dorian’s air genasi heritage.

- The embroidery on Dorian’s vest references the day and night cycle, with the sun being highest and the moon being lower. (Also I fucking ate these pearls, they’re stunning)

- Even though Orym’s beautiful tattoo is covered, I still referenced it by ‘carving’ it into his shoulder pauldron. Big moon, little moon.

- Two clothing details on Orym: another Will reference, Orym wears Will’s sash.

- The silken squall wings which are a reference to Dorian’s first outfit.

- And finally, Dorian wears a bunch of flowers in his hair. They’re all white with the exception of a single blue flower. This is in reference to the blue flower Orym druid crafted into Dorian’s hair in one of the very first episodes of the campaign to help Dorian’s performance check. It’s one of their very first cutesy moments, so I thought it was a lovely little detail to include.

[technically-human]

i saw this post, immediately thought of edwin because i always think if edwin when i see stuff about hell these days, then thought huh really it sounds more like if CHARLES had been the one that met EDWIN after escaping hell. and then i remembered your reverse 'verse and it fit reverse charles so perfectly i had to share it

Save him

ko-fi

[inseparabiles]

blink twice if you need help, sincerely.

[kaiserouo]

i run out of ideas for cayde

[erinwantstowrite]

saw some pants on pinterest.... thought of discowing... couldn't be stopped...

[castlenjoyer]

um. here he is . my guy . obsessed with him

[sagelessichor]

Okay, so Apollo? We all know him, right? God of the sun, light, poetry, and one too many other fucking things? Including truth, knowledge, logic, and education?

Yeah, how are we all forgetting who the God of fucking Education and Logic is? Please, for the love of everything holy, stop characterizing Apollo as a dumb blond who can’t do shit on his own and whose only traits are pride, vanity, anger issues, and being horny because he is so much more than that and this is really getting out of hand. I’ve read too many damned fics and posts where everyone treats and characterizes Apollo as an immature teenager and I am just so fucking over it. He is such a complex character and we all really need to stop reducing him to a blond dumb-dumb.

[parasocial-paradox]

Rebrand Trailer Screenplay Pitch

Throwing my proverbial prophecy-hat into the ring here in the buildup to the imminent rebrand! Considering how much fun they had with the first one, it seems pretty likely that we might get a trailer similar to the absolute cinema that was the gaming channel's revival announcement. With that in mind, i had my own stupid ideas for what this might look like, so i put a little screenplay together. Here’s what i’m squinking:

Something something. Parasocial subversion of expectations-themed "wedding", plus the wedding itself looking like it was plonked on top of the funeral set to represent parting with the past and embracing something new. There's symbolism here I swear