#taking a long time for the video to process

[pequins]

hear me out hear me out a schlatt fic where hes up late editing and reader is in bed waiting for him so they go check on him, telling him to come to bed and stuff, but when he doesnt, they climb on the chair, sitting on his lap so they block the view, and schlatt obv is now turned on and then they get freakyy 😈 perchance afab!reader, f!reader ‼️

nonnie you’re so smart come kiss me

cont: sleep deprived perfectionist schlatt, afab!reader, unprotected sex & creampie

an: any typos were the work of my opps and i am not liable for them (i wrote this after staying awake for 27 hours)

word count: too many

Jay leaned back in his chair, letting out a low groan as his muscles ached from the prolonged sitting. He had spent the whole day recording and editing a vlog for his channel, unintentionally neglecting you and his need for rest in the process. He was exhausted, his eyes strained from staring at the screen for so long.

he glanced up the time on his screen, wincing as he saw how late it was, 3:46 am? He could’ve swore it was just 9, “jesus..” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. despite his eyes burning from lack of sleep and extensive time staring at a screen, he was determined to finish this video before going to sleep.

meanwhile, you were watching him from the door frame, leaning against it with a disapproving look. Although you understood his dedication to his work, you worried about the toll it was taking on him. “Jay, it’s late, you gotta sleep sometime or you’ll go crazy.” you said, he sighed, glancing at you with a mixture of fatigue and stubbornness. “I know, I know. I’m almost done, just let me finish something real quick.”

you sighed, sounding similar to that of a disappointed mother, knowing that ‘real quick’ is just his way of excusing hours more of work. you approached him, standing behind his chair and gently resting your hands on his tense shoulders. “yknow, the video will still be there tomorrow.” you remarked, silently pleading for your giant boyfriends comforting presence while you slept.

he groaned quietly as you began to massage his shoulders, feeling a few knots that had formed after hours of hunching over the desk. your touch was soothing, and for a moment, he was tempted to drop everything and curl up with you in bed. unfortunately, his perfectionist tendencies were too strong, the thought of leaving a project unfinished being simply unbearable. “I promise I’ll come to bed in just a minute,” he said, eyes remaining fixed on the screen.

you grew increasingly frustrated with his relentless dedication to his work, your touch transitioning from a therapeutic massage to something more intimate, your fingers tracing along his collarbone and neck, causing a shiver to erupt from him. you leaned down, your breath tickling his ear as you lowered your voice to a sultry whisper. "come on, you work too much.”

he let out a shaky exhale, his eyes closing for a moment as he focused on the sensation of your touch. “baby..” he muttered quietly, his breathing getting more uneven. your hands slowly slid down his chest, sending a shiver down his spine as you played dirty. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his resolve to finish the video slowly crumbling.

“what do I have to do to get you off this damn chair?” you asked, smiling as you heard his uneven breaths. your touch was like electricity to his senses, sending a shiver down his spine that made it difficult to focus on anything else. he felt his resolve weakening, the allure of your words was almost too much to resist.

“toots, i’m—“ he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “i’m almost done, you’re distractin’ me.” he said, his voice strained and breathless. you smiled, continuing your assault on his senses, your fingers slowly running down his chest “cmon,” you whispered, your lips hovering near his neck. “take a break.”

schlatt's eyes widened as you abruptly climbed onto the chair, straddling his lap in a way that certainly had his attention. he could feel the heat radiating from your core as you settled on top of him, the weight of your body against him making his shorts suddenly feel much tighter, his hands instinctively finding their way to your hips.

"you're playing dirty, y'know." he said, his voice betraying a hint of a strained breath. you could practically feel his resistance faltering as your presence made it hard for him to focus on anything else. he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the screen, determined to finish his video, but you both knew you had him right where you wanted him.

with a sly smile, you leaned forward, your body pressing against his chest as you kissed along his exposed collarbone. "i think you've worked enough for tonight, don't you?" you purred, your fingers tracing along his jawline. a low groan escaped his throat, the growing pressure in his boxers making him painfully aware of your closeness, his resolve was quickly crumbling.

he knew he should resist, but the allure of your body against his was overtaking his logic. "cmon, come to bed," you whispered, hands trailing underneath his large sweater. "you need to rest." your body against his was driving him crazy.

he could feel the heat of your breath against his skin, the teasing igniting a fire within him. his heart was racing, the room suddenly feeling unbearably hot. he tried to focus on the screen, to resist the pull of your kisses, but his determination was slipping away with each passing second.

"dammit toots..." he exhaled, his voice strained and low, his body already reacting to your every touch. your close proximity was making it difficult for him to think clearly, his usually sharp mind becoming foggy with want. you gently pushed yourself off of the chair with a coy smile, taking a step backwards, gesturing for him to follow.

he grumbled, reluctantly pushing himself off of the chair and standing up, his body protesting the movement after being stuck in the same position for so long. he followed you silently, his mind still fighting to hold onto his work, his body fighting the urge to give into your allure. you led him into the bedroom, the dimly lit room feeling much more intimate than his claustrophobic office.

you stopped when the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips, inviting him silently. the air was heavy with tension, the desire between you both palpable. his gaze hungrily trailed over your figure, his hands twitching and clenching with restraint.

he reached out, his hands roughly grabbing your hips, pulling you flush against him. his grip possessive yet filled with a tenderness that betrayed his usual rugged exterior, sending a shiver down your spine. his hands began to roam your body, finding their way under your shirt, exploring every inch of you with a hungry desperation.

his touch was electric, igniting a fire within your core that spread throughout your body. his breathing was ragged, his lips now pressed against your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. “fuck, i need you" he muttered against your skin, his voice low and rough, his body pressing you down against the bed.

he loomed over you, the weight of his big body pinning you to the soft sheets. his hands continued their exploration, pushing your shirt up and over your head, discarding it on the floor. his mouth returned to your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your chest, down your stomach. his hands slowly unbuttoned your pants, sliding them off and discarding them as well.

he looked down at you, his gaze taking in every inch of your body, his eyes dark and dilated with need. "you're so fuckin’ beautiful." he said, his voice a low growl, his hands now digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. he positioned himself between your legs, pressing himself against your heat. you reached up, his words sending a thrill through your body, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.

he let out a guttural moan as your fingers gripped his hair, the sensation heightening his already sensitive state. his hands gripped your hips, lifting them up, positioning himself closer to you as he trembled with restraint. "i need you, right now." there was a possessive edge to his words, a hint of vulnerability that betrayed his usually guarded nature.

his hands ran over your body, tracing patterns on your skin, desperate to feel you, to claim you. he abruptly pulled your soaked panties down to your ankles, almost drooling at the sight of your bare pussy. he slatternly slid his gym shorts and boxers down to his ankles, briskly freeing his thick cock, tip already shiny and leaking precum.

he braced himself on your hips as he roughly slid into you, gripping at your hips so tightly they’d probably bruise, pulling out just to the tip before thrusting back in. "fuck" he groaned, eyes glassy and desperate as he soaked in the needy moans erupting from you. he threw his head back, letting out deep, gutteral groans as your cunt tightened around him.

the sound of his breathing grew heavier as he continued his movements, reaching deep inside of you, brushing against all the right spots. each movement forced a strangled moan to escape your mouth, mouth agape as your breath was knocked out of you with every thrust. His thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy, the sensations almost too much.

"oh god—“ he moaned, his voice cracking as he pounded into you, just hearing you was enough to send him over the edge. It didn't take long for you to become cockdrunk, gripping at the sheets to stay grounded as you mewled and trembled.

his pace faltered, groans getting louder and more gravelly as he chased his high. you whimpered as you felt him abruptly release inside of you, his chest heaving as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, breathy kisses on your collarbone. you both huffed, giggling with what little breath you had left after the intense high.

[tan1shere]

Make It Better

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: it's almost 3 am and I'm doing this but hey ! Tann never fucking sleeps 😀 enjoy 😙

Summary: you helped your girlfriend relax.

Warnings: soft dom billie, sub reader, eating out (bil receiving) think that's it ? Smut as per !

Masterlist

It had been a long day for the both of you, Billie finally arriving home complaining slightly on song topic, how her and Finneas just couldn't seem to get anything done today. She knew she couldn't rush anything but it still annoyed her.

You two were currently laying in bed on your phones. You had been home all day, doing household chores to make sure everything was clean. You had missed her so much today, and to be honest you were starting to feel horny. That didn't help when you just opened tiktok, watching your for you page when you see edits of your girlfriend.

You loved them all, soft ones, hot ones. But this one in particular set something off inside you. It was from one of her music videos, Happier Than Ever, she was on the roof in the rain. When you catch sight of her mouth moving in a sexy way, the same way it would when your lips were on her lower ones. Your mind races as you look beside you, directly at her. You shift on the bed, feeling your pussy throb at the thought.

You place your phone down. Going to slowly get ontop of her. "Babyy." You place your hands on her shoulders. She lets out a tired sigh. "Yeah, sweetheart?" She could never ever take anything out on you, always so soft even when she had a shit day.

"Want me to make it better bils." You kiss her cheek softly, her hand coming up to your check to move some hair out of your face. "What do you have in mind sweet girl, hm?" You bit your lip gently, staring at her lips and features lovingly. "You wanna help me out baby?" You nod, really wanting to. She grabs your hand getting you to get off the bed.

"Knees angel." You do exactly that, eager to taste her. You wanted it, and so did she. She looks down at you, her blue eyes heavy with lust. Lids hooded. Her hand comes in contact with your chin, keeping your head there so you look at her. "Take off my pants baby go on." You grip them, pulling them down along with her merch boxers. She wore them all the time, and so did you. You loved wearing her merchandise it was always the softest, cozy thing you owned.

They pool around her ankles as you're face to face with her cunt. It glistening just for you, a small whine leaves your lips so excited to dive in. She chuckles at you. "Too precious." Your hands grasp her thighs as your tongue touches her clit, a whiney sigh escaping you. It was music to her ears. She craved your noises. Even more so against her. Her hands go to your hair, gripping firmly as your tongue moves to her entrance, tasting her so carefully. You were in heaven.

Her moans soon spill into the dark bedroom. "Fuck.." She breathes delicately. Your movements soon sped up. Her taste invading your mind, causing your eyes to roll back. A louder moan coming out of you. You were desperate to taste more of her. She groans slightly, that turning into beautiful moans. Not only did you desperately need her to cum. You were begging in your mind for her to make that face, the face she made in the video.

So your tongue moves from her entrance to her clit, incredibly fast. You eventually end up sucking her flaps in the process. You whine into her as the taste becomes more. She was close. "Good girl, good girl good girl." Her voice was slightly whiney as she guided your face deeper. "That's it, fuck!" She purrs as you found the right momentum. Your eyes dart up to her face, noticing it back slightly, seeing her mouth agape. There it was!

She made no sound while doing so, too caught up in the way your tongue moved. But soon enough she was gushing all over your tongue. You drink, thirsty. Her hands massaging your scalp as you do, feeling your head lean on her thigh. Out of breath yourself. "So fucking good to me baby. So. Good."

[laf-outloud]

For any fan of Misha to believe what he supposedly said in today's panel about taking a prank too far, they must either be new to the fandom, or have absolutely no memory of these stories before.

Let's be honest, the fans who think Misha's telling the truth "this time" absolutely know it's not true and are using this new story to persecute Jared, once again.

For those who haven't seen, here are the tweet reports from Misha's panel. Obviously, video will provide proof, but there are enough details to get the gist and these aren't the standard Misha-fan con reporters that like to lie about or twist what was said.

So, the original story about Jared taking a picture was told by Misha on the Inside of You podcast (see below). There was no zero gravity dive. Misha simply forgot to lock the bathroom door. Jared took a picture of him on the toilet, not naked and with no urine in sight. And yes, in retaliation, Misha flushed Jared's phone... the one that had the only pictures of his son, Shep's birth.

As for the getting knocked around, being covered in urine, etc. That comes from a trip Misha took with Rich, Rob, and Matt down to Australia for a convention. Misha tells the story here:

Matt, Rob and Rich have all corroborated that story here and here. It's actually a pretty funny story on it's own.

So, Misha put together some mash up of these two stories, making him the victim (once again) of a dangerous stunt supposedly perpetrated by Jared (which no pilot would ever agree, especially without all passengers belted).

If you haven't caught on by now, Misha lies. And he lies for a purpose. Most often, it's to engender sympathy from his fans so they'll continue to see him as poor, picked-on Misha who can related to them because they are also the 'outcasts' in their world. And if he can relate to them, then they'll continue to give him their money.

You may also wonder why Misha frequently references Jared as being the one to prank him (and often, the only one). One, because he needs Jensen as the other half of the Destiel pairing, which is another way to keep his fans dropping money in the coffers. And two... jealousy. From past stories and behavior, it's obvious Misha's jealous that Jared is as successful as he is, someone who never went to college but has worked steadily for over 24 years in an industry rife with unemployment. Misha likes to say things that imply Jared's only gotten by on his looks and not any kind of talent, but we know that's simply not the case. Actor's aren't employed for that long and that consistent on their looks alone. Talent and hard work are also needed, two traits which Misha obviously doesn't have, so he resorts to stringing along his dwindling fanbase with any story he can, regardless of it's veracity or whom it may hurt in the process.

Finally, Misha knows exactly who his fans are and how his fanbase takes the things he's said, so if he's ever called out and says he was joking and that people misinterpreted what he said, he's lying. And I'd say that lying was the only thing he was good at if it weren't so easy to debunk the lies.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love strategy p.6

Hi guyss, here's the new part and part 5 if you've missed it. Let me know what you think about Lando's secret, revealed in this part.

You had thought—hoped, really—that it would take a few days for the rumors to spread. After all, the video from yesterday still needed to be edited and published. Surely, you had some time before the media circus descended on you and Lando. But by the time Friday rolled around and you walked into the paddock with your colleagues, you were proven very, very wrong.

The moment you stepped foot inside, the air seemed to shift. Journalists’ heads turned, their eyes locking onto you like you were fresh prey. You barely had a second to register the shift in energy before you were surrounded. A sea of reporters, cameras flashing, and questions being hurled in your direction from all sides.

"Is it true about you and Lando?" "How long have you been seeing each other?" "Was it love at first sight?" "Is this a paddock romance?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to navigate the sudden onslaught, feeling trapped by the sheer number of people crowding you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in your throat. Panic surged through you as the cameras pressed closer, the barrage of voices overwhelming.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. "Hey! Back off!"

Carlos.

Before you knew it, he was by your side, his tall frame creating a protective barrier between you and the journalists. His presence was like a lifeline, grounding you as he expertly guided you through the crowd, waving off the reporters with a sharp glare.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Carlos muttered under his breath, keeping a firm hand on your shoulder as he steered you toward a quieter area behind the paddock.

Once you were finally out of the media's reach, Carlos turned to face you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?”

You exhaled shakily, still trying to process what had just happened. “I didn’t expect this to blow up so fast,” you admitted, your voice small and slightly breathless. “I thought we had more time.”

Carlos’s eyes softened further as he nodded, his usual calm confidence still present but tinged with concern. “Yeah, well, things in this world don’t stay quiet for long,” he said, offering a small smile. “But if you need anything, or if it gets too much, you can always count on me. I’ve got your back.”

You looked up at him, grateful for his protectiveness. There was something so reassuring about Carlos in moments like these—the way he didn’t make you feel weak for being overwhelmed, but rather like he understood the pressure and was ready to shield you from it when needed.

“Thanks, Carlos,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, a faint grin tugging at his lips, though his eyes remained serious. “You don’t need to thank me. Just… don’t be afraid to ask for help, alright? I know Lando’s involved now, but this place—it can be intense. You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this alone.”

His protectiveness was palpable, a comforting presence in the whirlwind of everything that had happened. You nodded, feeling the weight of his support.

“I won’t,” you promised.

As you walk back to your team’s section of the paddock, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Carlos’s protectiveness, the way he stepped in and shielded you from the press—it had caught you off guard in the best way. You weren’t used to him being so attentive, so present. It felt… nice. Almost like the plan was working.

With a smile tugging at your lips, you pull out your phone and quickly type a message to Lando.

You: So, guess what? You: I think the plan’s working—Carlos totally noticed me more today.

A moment later, Lando’s reply comes in, and you can practically picture his smirk on the other side of the screen.

Lando: Oh yeah? Told you it would work. Carlos can’t help but pay attention now. Lando: How was he?

You: He was great, actually. He helped me get away from the press—really protective. It felt like he actually cared.

You pause, biting your lip as you type the next part.

You: What about your mysterious girl? Has she reacted to the news about us?

For a few moments, Lando doesn’t reply. You wonder if maybe you’ve hit a sore spot, given that this whole fake relationship plan was also meant to get his crush to notice him. You know how much he cares about her, how he’s been pining for her, waiting for her to finally see him the way he sees her.

When his response finally comes through, it’s a bit more subdued.

Lando: Yeah, she’s noticed. Lando: Since we started this, she’s been paying more attention to me. But… she still doesn’t see me like that.

You frown at the screen, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. Lando’s always been so easygoing and lighthearted, but you know how much this mysterious girl means to him, even though he’s never revealed who she is.

You: I’m sorry, Lando. That sucks. You: But maybe she just needs more time? I mean, this whole thing with us is still new, right? Maybe she’ll come around.

You mean every word, wanting to comfort him, to give him hope. He’s been nothing but supportive through this whole fake relationship ordeal, and the last thing you want is for him to feel disheartened.

What you don’t know, what Lando hasn’t told you, is that the girl he’s talking about—the one he’s been trying to get to notice him—is you.

From the beginning, this plan wasn’t just about helping you with Carlos or boosting his public image. It was about spending more time with you, being close to you, and seeing if, maybe, just maybe, you’d start to see him as more than just your partner in this scheme. But for now, Lando keeps that secret to himself, his heart heavy with the irony of his situation.

His next message comes through, lightening the mood once again.

Lando: Yeah, maybe. Who knows? At least we’re both getting what we want out of this, right? You: Right. Partners in crime! Lando: Always ;)

You smile at his response, completely unaware of the deeper feelings hidden behind his words. To you, this is all just part of the plan. But to Lando, it’s something so much more.

Tag list: @abq654 , @spaceflowergal, @mads94sworld, @anewpersonthatexists, @qlovalova, @itsskavya, anaferreira-4, @willowsnook, @larastark3107, @blueberry648579, @luckyangelballoon, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @gtwdahhh, @edsmunsonsgirl, @under-seasoned-pasta, @marshmummy, @weekendlusting, @jaimeleannavanlloman

[iwtvfanevents]

St. Louis 2024 —an LDPDL fan event

This October, we are celebrating our titular vampire's 147th birthday with a month-long creative challenge. This is the second edition of this event, and you can see the fan creations shared last year in the tag, here ►

How does this event work?

Louis's birthday is October 4th, so we have four broad prompts, and ten prompt quotes. Prompts have no assigned date, and they are meant to be interpreted freely. 

Prompts

Love / Family 

Memory / Art

Gender / Sexuality

Vampirism / Power

Quotes

"For the first time in my life, I was seen."

"I had powers now, and decades of rage to process…"

"Allow me my odyssey."

"The absence of metaphor is striking."

"Are we the sum of our worst moments?"

"She called me an angel."

"But the suit changes nothing."

"My rage had risen, followed closely behind by my madness."

"I’m companion enough for myself now." 

"I didn't know it was a gift."

Louis's character exists in relation with others —his human family, his vampire family, his love interests, his interviewer, his employees— and your contribution can be about any and all of those relationships, or about Louis alone.

POV isn't a given either: you could write about Louis from another character's perspective but, if it's focused on Louis, then it's still in the spirit of this event.

And, if you end up creating something that doesn't quite respond to any prompt, you're still participating, as long as your creation is about Jacob Anderson's Louis de Pointe du Lac.

Some ways in which you can participate include:

fanfiction,

fanart,

fanmixes,

moodboards,

gifsets,

photomanips,

graphics,

video edits and AMVs,

meta and analysis in written, audio or video form,

poetry,

music,

headcanons,

fanworks and meta recommendations...

...and anything else you can think of!

Please take a look at our participation guidelines, and don't forget to tag your posts with #IWTVfanevents or tag @iwtvfanevents so we can share them on the blog. You can also add them to the collection on AO3: Happy birthday LDPDL!

If you’re on Twitter, we’re over there too!

And, as always, we encourage you to use the #vampterview tag for your posts about the show. Learn more about this fandom tag here ►

[remotewatch]

can’t hit it one time, multiple

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 2.9k wc

minors dni but still get involved and stay informed politically let me be clear

summary: volunteering is so rewarding! being a part of a cause you believe in, educating first time voters, getting dicked by the campaign’s eye candy on your lunch break; it’s got everything!

cws: shameless classic 1D style smut, bus rocking, wrap it before you tap it on THE Harris campaign reproductive freedom bus (is it legally actionable to call it by its govt name), whatever the hell is going on with the JD videos cranked up to 100, reader calls him both diva and a slut, both not totally serious, his tripod is your wingman, this Barbie tastes like clementines, semi public sex I GUESS, sub!jack SOMEWHAT

many thanks to my editor (and co-writer this time around) @mystardustmelodyyy for the organizing and romantic flair 🩵🗳️

additional thanks to Jack and the team for the inspirational Philly content, do keep it up !!

Although your day of volunteering had been nothing terribly exciting so far- setting up chairs, guiding people to their seats, a LOT of directing lost families to the bathroom- the whole town hall was thrumming with a sense of hope that felt nothing short of electric. You didn’t realize how busy you’d been until you finally got a chance to sit down and make up some gift bags. That took no time at all, leaving you a nice free chunk of the day to wander around and soak up the atmosphere. There had been rumors of a free gelato truck, and the empty breezeway pointed to them being true. The sharp thwap of sambas slapping onto marble snapped you out of your daydreaming; almost empty, apparently.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted the source of the racket: America’s most polarizing nepo baby. Filming… a stunt of some kind? He takes a running start into a front flip, landing close enough to his tripod to throw it off balance. After repositioning it and trying again, his shoes slip in a puddle on the floor, forcing him to splay out a hand to avoid falling onto his ass.

You were well aware of Jack’s work; your feed was convinced you were precisely his target demo and had been pushing his content onto you since July. Maybe it wasn’t totally off base. Regardless, watching him struggle to land a perfect somersault was much more endearing than the finished videos. When he stands up for a third attempt and manages to tangle a tripod foot up with his pants in the process, you’re unable to suppress a fit of giggles.

“Are you winning over there, diva?”

Jack looks a bit sheepish when he first glances up but recovers quickly. He adjusts the tripod and hits you with the same smile your algorithm insists makes you weak.

“I think it’s still too close to call.”

“Did you want some help with the…whatever it is you’re recording?”

One of the tripod legs abruptly gives out, the clatter echoing around the breezeway. Jack winces and nudges the fallen hunk of fiberglass with his shoe.

“Yeah, that would be great, if you don’t mind.” Five long strides over to you and he’s pressing his phone into your hands, camera already open. “If you’d just follow- well, you saw what I was trying to do.”

You can’t say if it’s the pressure of a live audience of him being fed up with his previous attempts, but Jack flips perfectly into frame this time, proceeds immediately to an immaculate standing backflip, then takes off towards the other end of the breezeway without so much as glancing at the camera. He leaps up and clicks his heels a few steps in, only turning around when you’re starting to wonder if he’s just ditching the shoot altogether.

“How was that?” He shouts on his way back over.

“Looks good!” You have no earthly idea what he was going for, but it fits right in with the absurdist athletic vibe he’s been rocking with between his more overt political content.

“Aw, that’s great. Thank you!” he beams at you after looking over the footage (you try not to focus on how small the phone looks in his hands). “The lighting is perfect too.”

“Oh, good!” Thank god. “Did you need help with anything else?”

Jack rolls his eyes mischievously like he's considering letting you in on a huge secret. “I was actually going to film a thing or two for JD if you’ve got an extra minute.”

“For that? Absolutely!”

His grin stretches wider to match yours at that response, and you realize you’re smiling at each other like two idiots.

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

He repeats your name back after you introduce yourself, and you wish he’d do it again so you can keep watching his lips move saying it.

🔹🔹🔹🔹

This time, Jack gives you slightly more direction, guiding you to hold the phone at an angle just high enough to skew provocative as he leisurely strolls backwards through the hallway. You don’t need to coach him into angling his head just right to catch the afternoon sun in his eyes; he’s got the bambi look down pat.

“JD, I really miss you. Won’t you come home so we can be a family again?” He motions just out of frame for you to aim higher, but you’re already adjusting the shot before you see his signal. “You said I shouldn’t be voting because I’m not a dad like you. Is that true, JD? Or are you making up stories again?”

Jack glances backward to check if there’s enough room for him to keep up his pace, then breaks for a second to ask “Alright, one more?” The two octave difference almost makes you drop his phone, but you keep it together and nod.

His eyes crinkle up adorably when he smiles. “Sweet.” Then he’s back to business, eyefucking the camera like he just got out of prison.

“JD, I thought you knew everything, and you told me that I should never lie. How am I supposed to trust you if I don’t know when you're telling a story or not?”

You stick your bottom lip out and mouth “more”; he happily obliges. Jack looks every bit the foxy little public servant as he peers out at the lens from under his eyelashes.

“Can you help me understand, JD? I want to understand. I just need a little help. Can you show me?” Christ, he’s practically purring. Thankfully, he snaps back to director mode before you can get too lost in the rhythm.

“You think that was too much?”

“I think you could do a little more, to be really honest.”

His eyes narrow knowingly. “How so?”

“...You could go down on your knees.” You’re half joking at the most and still think you’ve crossed a line, but sure enough, he’s kneeling down and crossing his ankles like it couldn’t come more naturally to him.

He’s still plenty tall enough to bite your pant zipper, and you quickly shove the thought aside.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, perfect, just like that.”

This time, he might as well be on mute for all the words you’re processing. It’s all slow blinking doe eyes, curls bouncing with every emphatic head tilt, his tongue stretching out to wet his lips between sentences. The “Can you show me?” rocks straight through you and breaks the spell when Jack glances up at you. His expression shifts from mockingly innocent to coquettish for just a scorching, enduring moment, then he’s back on his feet, back to the bubbly, personable demeanor you’d expect from him.

“Thank you again for the help. She was NOT playing nice today.” he nods back at the tripod.

“Oh, it’s no problem! I love your work.” He waves a hand modestly.

“I love your work! You actually came out here and helped! It’s so much more important than what I do. Is this your first event?”

“It is! It’s my first time.”

“Well, we love first timers around here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” The implication hits you a beat too late, so you pad it with a restrained “It’s really interesting to see the behind the scenes of it all.”

Jack rocks back on his heels, his eyebrows drawing up playfully.

“Have you seen the bus?”

“Of course I’ve seen the bus!”

“No, I meant the inside of it. Did you want to see that?” He allows himself the forwardness of a head tilt.

What else could you say?

“Yeah, I really would.”

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Bless the gelato truck, because there’s not a trace of human activity on this side of the building. You’re barely paying attention to the formality of a tour Jack’s giving; his enthusiasm is adorable, but the way his fingers spread as he’s pointing out every feature in the bus is making your mind wander.

“Shoes on or off?” you manage to ask.

“Oh, whatever you want. We’re not strict.” Off, then. “As you can see, this is where the magic happens.”

Once you get to the middle of the bus, the combination of campaign paraphernalia and scattered phone chargers, melatonin gummies, and cold brew cans feels like you’re getting a peek into something thrilling. There’s a map of tour stops tacked up with current polling results on a small whiteboard to the side. It’s close, but no doubt doable. You’re so swept up that you nearly smack your head on an open cabinet door when you turn back to face your host. His hand shifts back along its edge to cushion the impact before you can think to duck, and the heat from it makes your cheek tingle.

“Careful, it’s tight in here!” he teases.

It’s hard to shake the feeling of trespassing.

“Are you sure I’m good to be here?” Jack turns back from replenishing half empty swag baskets to smile reassuringly.

“No one needs it until one. When do you have to get back?”

“My break ends at one thirty.”

“I guess it’s our bus, then!” He fetches you a sparkling water from the minifridge and cracks open his own like he owns the place. You elect to remain standing and lean against one of the chairs opposite, certainly not because you want to have him looking up at you for as long as possible.

Jack is all long limbs and tanned striations as he stretches out on the bench seat like a cat, his wingspan nearly spanning its whole length. When he arches slightly to get comfortable, his shirt catches under his pecs and makes your mouth go dry. You wonder if you’re staring too much.

“So, do you have any other directing experience, or do you just have a knack for giving orders?” His head lolls to one side, soaking up your attention. One of his feet moseys it’s way over to you, and you uncross your ankles before it has a chance to nudge them in that direction.

“I think you’re just good at taking them.” Is that a blush you’re seeing? Jack breaks into a giggle that reads almost wistful.

“I was expecting you to tell me to roll over and balance a treat on my nose.”

“Anything for the campaign, right?”

“I mean, of course, but it's still those day to day interactions that are going to win this for us.”

“Yeah, the canvassing especially is really rewarding, I didn’t expect this many people to be undecided. I guess some of them still need a little convincing.” You plop down next to him, closer than you’d ever dare if he wasn’t flushed clear down to his shirt collar. Somehow, your right leg finds itself intertwined with his. He’s a fucking furnace, even directly under the AC unit.

“Not me though; I know exactly what I want to do.”

The corners of Jack’s mouth curl up without a shred of hesitation. He squints at you again before taking a slow pull of his Perrier, Adam’s Apple bobbing like it's begging you to bite it. His middle fingertip trails lazily around the rim as he sets it down. One last lip smack, then he’s pressing them onto yours and flooding your nose with the smell of clementines and sea salt.

The buzzing in your brain reaches a fever pitch when he drapes an arm around your waist to pull you closer. Tilting your head ever so slightly, your hand wanders up to cradle his face and press a thumb to his chin. A gentle push down to open Jack’s mouth and his tongue is snaking its way in, the obscene length of it sending sparks straight down to your clit. He breathes a contented, relieved moan into your mouth when your leg swings over his hips to straddle him, then little stilted mewls as you start rocking back and forth.

“You’re a little slut for democracy aren’t you? You tease, panting against his jawline.

“Who, me?” he grins and drags his hands up your thighs to settle on your ass, thumbs playing with your waistband.

You can feel your nipples hardening as you reach one hand out to steady yourself against the window. The bracing cold glass is delicious, but you flinch back when you spot people trickling back into view, gelato cups in hand, a few racing over to pose with the bus.

“Don’t worry; they can’t see you,” he chuckles along your sternum. Jack scooches too far forward trying to get a better angle to rut against you and nearly slides you both off the seat. You hear a whispered little “oh, shit,” before he scoops you up with one arm and shifts to stand, the other grabbing a spare water on his way to the rear of the bus. He collapses onto the deep sofa without missing a beat, but looks back up at you for reassurance, as if he’s somehow being presumptuous. You don’t even see it; you’re too busy yanking at his jeans like a madwoman after feeling how hard he is.

Concerns assuaged, he manages to pull both of your pants off without incident, only an accidental kick to the end table. Jack lets out a cackle when his hand slides low enough to feel you drip down his wrist.

“And I’m the slut for democracy?”

“Oh, shut up!”

You stretch behind him to the bin of condoms marked ‘F•CK PROJECT 2025’ on the far windowsill, shamelessly letting your breasts drag over his face in the process.

“It would really be a shame if we didn’t do some quality control, since we’re already here.” You trace one along his lips until they part to accept your gift.

“Such a waste,” Jack mimics you, if a bit muffled, as his incisors shred the foil wrapper. “And,” he adds cheekily with a shrug, “we’re fresh out of plan B.”

He’s already slid it on by the time you realize he’s unclipped your bra somewhere between here and the door, and you waste absolutely no time slipping him inside, so warm it makes you shudder. His eyelids flutter when you sit down fully; he’s whining like the bus is soundproof the second you get to work, all strained little whimpers and cut off syllables as you bounce in his lap. There’s not a minute to waste, and it’s showing in the breakneck pace you set. Jack’s movements are just as frantic, bucking up hard enough to threaten to throw you straight off this ride.

Desperate to see how far down he blushes, you slide your arms under his shirt, heat blooming up to your shoulders as you do. He gets your hint and tugs it off; you waste no time planting both hands on his pecs and letting your fingers run wild through his chest hair.

Meanwhile, your shirt and bra get caught on your elbow in the process of shedding them, and your left knee skids right off the couch while you’re distracted. Jack catches your shin effortlessly and plants his foot to keep his balance; you actually spot him smiling at his own reflexes. He rolls you both over without slipping out, chuckling a little “didn’t I tell you to be careful?” into your ear. He moves to let your leg down, and you throw it over his shoulder to keep him pinned flat against you before he can do so. The new angle restricts his range a bit, but he’s already shoving a hand down to strum at your clit, face millimeters from yours for the perfect view of just how much you’re loving it. He murmurs cockily when he sees you holding back. “Won’t you let me hear you?” There’s no way you’ll attract attention if you’re just moaning into his mouth, right?

It’s all too much; Jack’s whole body draped over you like a fever that won’t break, the way he’s panting down your throat every time you clamp around him, the little calluses on his occupied fingertips and how they maintain their perfect, unbearable pace no matter how much you thrash around. You can barely squeak out a “fuck, Jack, please-,”

His “I know, I know,” sounds just as ragged and that tips you right over the edge.

Jack’s composure completely unravels with the first pulse. His eyes screw shut and his hips still as deep as he can get to ride it out with you. You’re shaking and frothing like a can of Pepsi- sweet and sticking all along his slicked-flat happy trail as you lift your leg a little higher and over the back of his neck to pull him in closer. The beads of sweat on his forehead drip onto yours when he falls into another messy kiss, aftershocks buzzing comfortably through you both.

His phone timer jolts you out of your shared stupor.

“What is that?”

“12:30,” he groans into the couch cushion. “Sit tight, I’ll get you a towel.

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Jack is steaming your dress pants in one sock and his Hanes like its second nature, and it’s making a strong case for the hottest thing he could possibly do. In a few minutes, he’ll go out the front of the bus and stir up the crowd while you exit through the back.

“Take a bev for the road if you’d like.” He slaps the minifridge pointedly.

“Thanks, you’re such a good host!” you hadn’t moved from where you were laid out on the sofa; it was too much fun watching him get flustered from the compliment, “This was fun, getting to know you and all.”

“Yeah it was,” his tone is achingly sincere as he smiles back at you, face getting flushed all over again “...Not to be too bold, but could I get your number?”

[gravedice]

Hey, hey, bored and need something to do? You got an OC, fursona, or blorbo that you can't get off your mind? This is what you can do.

The game TeleCollision, a pixel art RPG, has a weirdly in depth character creator, and has a free demo on steam and itch.io right now. Go download it, see if you can make that character you love in the character creator.

11 different animal heads, elf ears... You want wings? Two? One? Four? Six? It's got you covered. Everything has adjustable customizable colors. Also custom pronouns.

After making your character, the demo has a four to six hour story to play through, a cast of odd characters, and you can customize your build by equipping trading cards.

[TeleCollision on Steam]

[TeleCollision on Itch.io]

[abirddogmoment]

i hope i never stop being amazed at the power of latent learning, like wow how cool is it to practice something a little bit, take a long break so it can sink in, and then return and do it beautifully??? amazing phenomenal and so so cool

[secondbeatsongs]

a recording of the tumblr CEO Q&A that happened on tumblr live on 07/11/23.

some notes: the very beginning of the video is cut off, but the audio for it is fine. and there are a few small areas in the second half of the video where the audio drops in quality a bit.

all of that is because this whole video is actually frankenstein'd together from several different audio and video sources, recorded by myself, @xccentriktigress, and @fokron, and with extra help from @eiimblr and @sharksfood!

thank you all for working on this team project with me, and for helping archive this so that others can see it! yay teamwork! :D

[paimt]

woag. vibeo game?

(very rough still)

(but now theres more colours)

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

i of course HAVE to ask for number 6 on the ask game with mcqueen and anyone else you think would be fun to answer for. i would also love to ask 1 and 5!

~zale (@zaletham)

Thank you so very much Zale!!! Didn't realize how lengthy I was gonna talk about this here in the post and in the tags, but it was very nice to get out my system!! 😊

I'm actually so excited that you asked number 6 for M.cQueen, it hadn't even crossed my mind at first, and technically isn't zoo or aquarium, moreso museum, but I think that still qualifies- but! L.ightning actually loovesss dinosaurs! I don't know if you've ever heard of C.ars On The Road, it's like this little series that came out in 2023, each episode is about 5 minutes long(they say like 7 minutes but it's just 2+ minutes of credits, no extra credit scenes except for a 5 second one in one episode) and L.ightning and M.ater, to make a long story short, go on a roadtrip together and they go on stops along the way and the first stop they go to is like a dinosaur museum!

And L.ightning like full swing goes into hyperfixation mode and just babbles about dinosaurs and I love it. He says he did "hours of intensive research" and it just cuts to him watching documentaries in M.ack's trailer and it makes me giggle. M.ack is so sweet, I can only imagine how much second-hand dino knowledge he has cause of L.ightning or overhearing his documentaries! There's also been some jokes that what if the main reason L.ightning wanted to be D.inoco's team in the first movie is just cause he likes dinosaurs and I love it.

I explain a bit more in the tags but tumblr has a one video limit per post that I didn't know about?? So I'm just doing one of the clips here!

They're so silly I love it.

But basically to make a long story short! L.ightning has a massive hyperfixation on dinosaur stuff and would thrive in a dinosaur related musuem. Though, I'd imagine he'd be bored in an aquarium or zoo until he realized that he could make connections here, and he'd go around to all the bird-type species or sharks and talk about how they're related to dinosaurs or have dinosaur ancestors and such!

1) what does their alarm ringtone sound like

It took me some pondering at first who to answer this for and then an idea immediately hit me, and I'd figure I'd answer this for F.rancesco

Basically, to put it in a nutshell, F.1 is a bunch of international racers on international race courses, and whoever wins at the end of each race gets their national anthem played! And I'm giggling over the thought of F.rancesco setting his alarm that he wakes up to in the morning to ltaly's national anthem.

Ringtone wise though, he'd definitely set it to a specific song, or something someone would ask questions about so he could go on this entire spiel about how it relates to him or something he likes. I'd probably rub off on him at some point and he'd make his ringtone(or the ringtone specifically for when I call) S.mooth Operator by Sade.

5) how do they bookmark their book pages

I'll answer this one for F.inn, just cause I think he's the one that's mostly likely to read full books fairly frequently. He'd probably just have a simple bookmark. something small and fairly thin cause he likes taking care of his books and wouldn't want to bend any pages or mess up the spine of the book too badly, probably something like this:

Maybe not the particular design that's on it, but definitely just the rectangle with the little tassels on it. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a bookmark with the UK flag on it as a design, he's quite patriotic and I think it's adorable. Though due to my recent knitting escapades he'd 100% ask me to knit one like one of these:

Though this has also given me the brilliant enlightenment idea of F.inn having one of those book lights or book lamps that clamp onto the book and shines a light on it and you can kinda adjust it and l'1l be having brainrot over that for a bit. May or may not have cultivated a fic idea around it already.

[misterradio]

DELIGHTFUL VIDEO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! just had to share.

[laurarolla]

I have come to realize that I really have fallen entirely out of practice at making videos and even just doing proper sound balancing. On the plus side, I can at least get the game audio in the Titanfall 2 videos to be audible, but my attempt at live commentary has failed spectacularly. For now, I'll put up gameplay of future games without commentary until I can get the audio levels fixed or possibly get the proper equipment hooked up (gotta find the USB cord for my older microphone).

[iwtvfanevents]

St. Louis 2024 —an LDPDL fan event

This October, we are celebrating our titular vampire's 147th birthday with a month-long creative challenge. This is the second edition of this event, and you can see the fan creations shared last year in the tag, here ►

How does this event work?

Louis's birthday is October 4th, so we have four broad prompts, and ten prompt quotes. Prompts have no assigned date, and they are meant to be interpreted freely. 

Prompts

Love / Family 

Memory / Art

Gender / Sexuality

Vampirism / Power

Quotes

"For the first time in my life, I was seen."

"I had powers now, and decades of rage to process…"

"Allow me my odyssey."

"The absence of metaphor is striking."

"Are we the sum of our worst moments?"

"She called me an angel."

"But the suit changes nothing."

"My rage had risen, followed closely behind by my madness."

"I’m companion enough for myself now." 

"I didn't know it was a gift."

Louis's character exists in relation with others —his human family, his vampire family, his love interests, his interviewer, his employees— and your contribution can be about any and all of those relationships, or about Louis alone.

POV isn't a given either: you could write about Louis from another character's perspective but, if it's focused on Louis, then it's still in the spirit of this event.

And, if you end up creating something that doesn't quite respond to any prompt, you're still participating, as long as your creation is about Jacob Anderson's Louis de Pointe du Lac.

Some ways in which you can participate include:

fanfiction,

fanart,

fanmixes,

moodboards,

gifsets,

photomanips,

graphics,

video edits and AMVs,

meta and analysis in written, audio or video form,

poetry,

music,

headcanons,

fanworks and meta recommendations...

...and anything else you can think of!

Please take a look at our participation guidelines, and don't forget to tag your posts with #IWTVfanevents or tag @iwtvfanevents so we can share them on the blog. You can also add them to the collection on AO3: Happy birthday LDPDL!

If you’re on Twitter, we’re over there too!

And, as always, we encourage you to use the #vampterview tag for your posts about the show. Learn more about this fandom tag here ►

[aefensteorrra]

/

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)