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#Here comes a thought (Musings)
crybaby-bkg · 5 months
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cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism
as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.
Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.
it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.
“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.
“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”
his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.
and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.
the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.
the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.
“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.
“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.
he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.
“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.
“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.
“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.
“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.
“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.
you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.
is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?
“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”
you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?
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relicsongmel · 2 months
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Reblog if you love this girl ❤️
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fenkko · 1 year
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cant believe i reached 30 tags in prev post rambling about homestuck i didnt even know there was a limit
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ride-a-dromedary · 2 months
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Wyll's relationship with alcohol/Halsin's relationship with alcohol...
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iamnmbr3 · 9 months
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the moment when you realize an ai would've written a better larry show than mike waldron bc an ai would've been trained on previous loki content and thus, unlike mike, would've actually watched the films
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djsangos · 2 months
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swore i didnt have any pics of me as a kid but somehow found this hiding in an old jacket that doesnt even fit anymore and thought id show tideblr
look its me age like 9 with the family shrimp chowder and my ass is NOT holding him very securely
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debtsunpaid · 2 months
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bi-krama-dick-ya · 1 year
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y'all are so nice
damn i wish we could know each other irl
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dragontamer05 · 10 months
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Emil and Ratatosk and complicated relationship;
Here is kind of a headcanon/thought I had of an alternate ending for these two after talking with @lady-quen
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As Emil was originally formed by and from Ratatosk as a way to hide from Richter while they regained strength, and to remain hidden administered self amnesia and false memories of a life not lived.
With the unfortunate consequence of this new personality growing and becoming their own separate being no longer feeling a part of Ratatosk, yet still a part of them none the less.
Because of such trying to separate into their own beings would likely be dangerous even with the powers of a such a god / god like being as Ratatosk himself nor is he ready to just give up this body and form they created.
However Emil has more then proven their capabilities and impressed Ratatosk who is willing to admit that they have earned their respect and a right to keep their life, for now. They've created their own real memories, friends and relationships and while they may not be the nicest fellow they can acknowledge they've earned the right to keep what they've gained on their own.
They are of the same body and soul at their core (cores) after all, Emil would not exist if were not for him so it's only right that in time they will become one again but, perhaps not soon but eventually. It's how its meant to be.
Besides being of Ratatosk means that even with a body of his own there's know guarantee he'd age or change like everyone else, while everyone else grows old and dies they may still remain unchanged barely touched by the sands of time maybe not immortal but living in a different frame of time from everyone else.
So he remains silent and patient, an old deity who doesn't mind waiting until the time is right knowing full well it would cause more harm to the both of them to forcibly assimilate and become one again but that their souls still cry out and need each other, one can not survive without the other.
For the most part Emil keeps control, while Ratatosk sits back allowing Emil to tap into their shared power at anytime its needed though he can be fickle and every so often should the need arise Ratatosk will be the one to come forth and take over- Everyone knowing when the change happens do to the Red eyes, his voice deepening and becoming louder brimming with a confidence not held before.
Ratatosk is far less merciful so you best hope not to come facing them in a fight as they hold no qualms against killing.
Now Emil of course is the only one to see or hear Ratatosk although some like Marta who's made a contract with them might be able to sense his presence in some way.
As Lord of Monsters it also allows Emil a strong connection and control over beasts barely needing to create a pact to get them to listen.
Both Ratatosk and Emil rather dislike being misnamed / called by the other's name and will correct you.
Ratatosk would never be that cowardly he argues and Emil will quickly deny that he's nothing like that monster.
In some way Emil has become accustomed to Ratatosks power and while still not fully to terms with the fact that they are in a sense Ratatosk/part of them perhaps finds the idea of not having them around strange. They are two halve of the same whole.
Emil's kind and gentler demeanor helps to tame and reel in Ratatosk brutality and violent nature, however the confidence and aggression of Ratatosk does help bring out a boldness in Emil not had before and helps push him to fight when he otherwise wouldn't.
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flockrest · 8 months
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it is very important to me that cooking is communal, as so many things are, with rito village. it is very important to me that there is only one kitchen shared between this entire flock, where time spent preparing and creating food — already a process underlined by love and connection and cultural homage — is made all the warmer when you can be joined by anyone at anytime. gripping my knees at the open air quality of it all because you are cooking with everyone, and eating with everyone, and it's a shared intimacy of we are alive. we keep each other alive.
( now contrast that with the imagery of a rito who purposely seeks solitude in cooking, in eating, as he does with everything...the pot at the flight range is there for convenience, but is it convenient or is it essential when you spend more time there than in your own aerie? and when you eat out there, beyond your nest, sharing meal-spaces with warriors like you because you have to, do you wonder if this is like the we are alive you might feel back at home? or is this we keep each other alive in the barest definition? maybe it's the same, if only for the way you feel too out of place )
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solcarow · 8 months
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.
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expvrgction · 26 days
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Kahann is a prime definition of "I have seen way more than some shit" and isn't surprised that even beings taking their scum and villainy seriously would join in on humor such as cat boops, but...
What. The fuck. Is a CHAOS entity doing here?
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clemencetaught · 2 months
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"Miss Nakamura's friends are quite an...eclectic bunch."
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tvrningout · 3 months
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i dunno if it’s happening today bc i am so low on energy i could fade into the ether, but expect my muse list to be edited soon as well as certain muses to be revamped! it really just needs to be done uvu
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djhallyboo · 4 months
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"I LIKE MEN."
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always-together · 4 months
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🖋 ~~does Harold Hill count? I feel like you'd do a great Harold Hill XD~~
LET’S TRY SOMETHING ENTIRELY NEW!
(It’s like I’ve spend the past year and a half writing a conman nonstop that you think Harold Hill would fit me 😂 Honestly though, I love The Music Man! One of my favorite “old Broadway” shows! Let’s see how this goes)
It’d be hard for anyone to ignore him, the way he talks with such a charismatic, self-assured air and the way he walks in such a non-slouched way that could almost be considered someone with morals. Not to mention that pork pie hat with the ribbon and his giant suitcase with his name stamped right on the front: Professor Harold Hill. But he takes it as a side-effect of the sleepy nature of the ironically named River City when the general store manager fails to register him coming over right away.
“Excuse me, sir! You’re Ewart Dunlop, yes?”
Don’t ask him how he got it; he probably saw it on the sign out front! Or more likely he’s old business partners with a man who now lives here, a good kid willing to help him with the ring he’s about to start running. The stern but clearly caught-unawares store owner has just enough time to fumble out a “yes” before the traveling salesman sets down his suitcase on the counter and speaks with full seriousness, like he’s an oracle delivering a vague prophecy of doom. As loud as he can, so the whole town can hear his swindle.
“Well sir, either you’re closing your eyes to a situation you do not wish to acknowledge, or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated by the presence of a pool table in your community!”
He meets his eyes as he slaps the desk for effect, like the downbeat of some unheard song. That’s all a sales pitch is. Find your rhythm and they’ll listen to anything you say.
“You’ve got trouble, my friend!!”
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