#Ah men.

[redversaillesrose]

You know that guy spider from school of rock that hits on joan cusack? The one that’s wearing low cut leather pants and that leather crop top, tits fully out with  s e x  tattooed over his navel? Well, I believe it is very important for the sake of the plot that they put lestat in that exact outfit at least once. 

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

Okay but Stan is ALSO trans and has yet to tell either of them so it’s fine (as soon as you put he/him in your bio you become horrible at communicating I fear)

[zanephillips]

Charlie Carver and Isaac Powell American Horror Story 11.05 "Bad Fortune"

[mysillycomics]

[crows-home]

part of my nimona viewing experience. idk why but i got super emotional in the first five minutes.

ID by @peachygos

[ID: A comic juxtaposing screenshots from Nimona 2023 and drawings of a person watching the movie. The first screenshot is Ambrosius's introduction; he grins at the camera as the news anchors introduce him, his name in big print on the screen. The person watching thinks with a bored expression, "Ah. Ok. This guy is gonna be the jackass. Typical golden-boy stuck-up prince that thinks he's better than the underdog. I see where this is going.

The next screenshot is of Ambrosius and Ballister on the platform above the arena, Ambrosius doing his news anchor bit and saying, "Aaand will Ballister be broody on the biggest day of his life?" Ballister laughs at his antics. The person watching now has a small smile, as they think, "Huh! Aw, they're actually nice to each other and are friends! I wasn't expecting that, that's nice-"

The third and final screenshot is a shot from behind of Ballister leaning his head on Ambrosius's shoulder. The caption reads "the knighting ceremony is just moments away." The person watching now has a touched, soft expression, like they're holding back tears. They think "OH." as a partially transparent doodle behind them bends over crying and blubbering, with another doodle showing their heart shot through with an arrow. /end ID]

[slushy-sash]

just a couple of eepy tired old men 😴

[d3rpydoods]

Idk, felt nostalgic

[jjkyaoi]

it’s so funny how they try to portray merlin as this embarrassing loser fool who brings chaos wherever he goes as if he didnt have like. a genuine harem. like all the knights of the round table are so unashamed of how they prefer him over arthur. gwen basically had a brief crush on him. morgana literally said “you’re not like merlin. he’s a lover” everyone who knows him is constantly talking about how pure and brave and selfless he is. lancelot knew he had magic and was js like okay with the idea of constantly lying, placing his own life in danger for him cuz that’s his little buddy. gwaine was LITERALLY in love with him. i don’t know what merwaine had going on but they probably hooked up the night they first met and don’t even get me STARTED on arthur pendragon

[glimmeri1ng]

the glasses + cap combo is my weakness ughh

[happy74827]

Bittersweet Moments

[Peter Maximoff x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend (if you’d even call him that), is an annoying piece of work 99% of the time. But that 1%? That 1% is pretty special.

WC: 1513

Category: Fluff, Irritated!Reader, Mentions of Migraines

My first Evan Peters fic? Lets go.

『••✎••』

Being friends with that white-haired speedster meant you never had a moment of quiet. The guy was just so fast that you never had a second to blink without him pulling a prank on you, which is why you were constantly on edge around him. You could never trust him.

But that didn't mean that he didn't have his moments.

You were on the floor, eyes shut, attempting to fade the raging migraine out. You made your room into a dark cave and had been there all day, and yet, the pain in your head only grew.

By the time you heard your door creak open, you already felt the presence and the air in the room shift. It was almost like a ghost was floating through the doorway.

"No." The voice was quiet, and the sound was barely audible.

The soft footsteps stopped, and you opened one eye, seeing the blurred white figure. Your vision was blurry, and everything was doubled, but you could make out the face.

"You locked me out." The tone wasn't accusatory or playful. It was a soft, concerned tone that made your chest squeeze.

You rolled your head back, trying to look up at him.

"Sorry," you croaked. "But I’m also not sorry. I needed the silence."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively. He crouched down his hand landing on your arm. His skin was cold against yours. "I know you secretly look forward to our little hangouts."

"No, I don't," you grumbled. "And I especially don't right now."

"Can’t even handle my presence without getting whiplash? Man, I must be really awesome."

You could faintly make out his smug smirk, and it made you snort, only worsening your headache.

"Just..." You waved your hand at him. "Get out. Leave."

He, in fact, did not leave. Instead, he stood up and went over to your bed.

You watched him in confusion as he took off his shoes, and then, with a quick flash of light, he was beside you once again, a blanket suddenly wrapped around him.

"Wh-" You were cut off as the blanket was draped around you, and you found yourself pulled up from the ground.

Peter's arm slipped around your shoulders, and he led you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers, and you climbed in, still unsure of what was going on.

Once you were in bed, he pulled the covers back up, and before you could say anything, his headset was ripped from your dresser. He placed them over his ears and lay down beside you.

He looked at you and nodded his head, giving you a thumbs-up.

You just stared at him, completely confused, but his gaze was unwavering. You let out a sigh, deciding to just roll with it. You were too tired to deal with Peter's bullshit anyway.

You rested your head on the pillow and shut your eyes.

A few moments later, a tune started playing, the music filling your ears. Not the loud, classic rock he usually blasted, but a soothing acoustic.

"You’re a fan of the Beatles?" You asked, surprised. You fluttered your eyes only to see Peter's face correctly. He looked like he was in deep thought. And with the soothing music from his Walkman (that he obviously lent to you) and the quiet, you couldn't help but feel a small tug on your heart.

He shrugged. "It just felt like the right song for the mood."

"Meaning… me dying?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic," he rolled his eyes. "Your little brain is just confused from having a devilishly handsome man lay in bed with you."

"You do realize I’ve had this for days now, right?"

"Alright, so, a devilishly handsome man around you. Is that better?"

"I can’t believe I let you in here," you grumbled, closing your eyes once more.

"Don't lie," he said, a little louder than usual since the music was loud in your ears. "You know you like my company—that and my box of sweets."

What box of—

Your eyes opened, and you looked up, seeing him holding a box of chocolate-covered almonds. Your heart did a flip.

"Is this... " You reached for the box, and he handed it to you.

"They're the good stuff. None of that cheap candy crap."

"Wow, you eat something other than Twinkies? I'm impressed," you teased, taking a piece and popping it into your mouth.

"Hey, don't hate the Twinkies. You ever try them with ice cream? It's great. It's like cake, but it's not, ya know? They're just so squishy, but the flavor is there."

"Uh, ew?"

"What, are you some fancy girl? Too high class for my delicious desserts?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it," you laughed, shaking your head. You rested your head on the pillow again.

"Whatever," he chuckled. "Eat your expensive ass almonds. I had to pay actual money for those, and I'm pretty sure Hank's going to notice they're gone."

That made you sit up despite the pounding in your head. "You stole them?! Oh my god, what's wrong with you?!"

"What?" he looked at you innocently. So I stole a box of chocolates. Big deal. The guy's rich. He never notices when I swipe his food. He'll just assume he forgot to put them away or something."

"Ugh, you are such an ass."

"You say ass; I say awesome."

"No," you said, putting another almond into your mouth. "Ass."

"Alright, fine. But, hey, look, who’s still eating the stolen chocolates?"

"Yeah, well," you smirked, taking another one. " Technically, I didn’t steal it. You did. So I can have a clear conscience."

"Ah, I see," he grinned. "Well, in that case, have another. Grab as many as you want. My treat."

You stared at him. "Okay, who are you, and what did you do with Peter?"

"What?"

"This," you gestured towards him. "All of this. You're never nice."

"Well, when you've had a migraine that's lasted for three days, you kinda learn to have a little empathy for that person."

"Three days?" you said, shocked. "Wait, how did you know the exact amount of time?"

"Don’t let anyone tell you you’re just a pretty face… I’m an all-seeing god, remember? Nothing can get by me."

"Except when Apocalypse broke—"

"Okay! Okay, I don’t need to relive that, alright? Sheesh, you're worse than Raven."

You grinned, taking another almond.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

"For what? Comparing you to the blue lady? Anytime."

"No," you rolled your eyes. "I mean, for not pulling a… well, you. I really do appreciate it."

"Does this mean you’re leaving the Batcave? If we're getting sappy, then I should probably head out. I don’t want to risk my rep."

"You and I both know you have no reputation."

"True," he smiled. But hey, a guy can dream, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head. You were about to lay back down when he spoke up again.

"Actually," he said, looking at the ceiling, "there is one thing I'm good at."

"What's that?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared at the ceiling.

"Pete?"

His head whipped around to you, and with the same speed, he was leaning over you, his face inches away from yours.

"Peter, what—"

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your ear, and the comment you were about to say died in your throat.

"I can shut up."

The sound of his voice, so soft and low, sent shivers down your spine. He pulled away and gave you a quick smile.

"Just something to think about," he said, and you could see the red tint on his cheeks. He sat up and stood in front of you before you could say anything else.

"You can give the Walkman back whenever, so, uh, don't worry about it. Anyway, I gotta get going. You know, stuff to do and snacks to eat." He turned towards the door. "Anyway, feel better. Later."

And before you could comprehend what had just happened, he was gone just like the wind.

You sat in your bed, still feeling the phantom feeling of his breath on your ear.

And ironically, the pain in your head was starting to fade.

So, yes. Despite him being an annoying little shit, he did have his moments. Genuine, quiet, caring moments. And it always made you question whether or not he was secretly a clone.

You were still staring at the door, your mind running a mile a minute.

But then, as if he could read your thoughts, he peeked his head back into your room.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll tell everyone you're a huge Star Wars nerd."

He vanished, and a second later, he was back once more.

"Also, I definitely didn’t steal that Walkman from a certain someone, so, uh, have fun with the mixtape!"

With that, he was gone.

You rolled your eyes and laid back down, putting the headphones back on.

"Ass."

You will definitely be visiting the white-haired speedster tomorrow. He may have his moments, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some good old-fashioned payback.

[revnascorner]

wishing i could grind like this on someone’s face instead 😩🥲

i mean come on… i look soooooooo pretty

[yanderedrabbles]

You’ve written Yan private military contractor SO unbelievably well, his demeanour gave me chills. But god damn is he cold. He’s so selfish 😭 I love it. If reader gained Stockholm Syndrome and started to initiate forms of intimacy and spoke a lot more affectionately, would he soften as a result? Would he reciprocate?

This is such a great prompt!! I think the yandere that he's the most comparable to is obviously Yandere! Soldier. They both kidnap the reader and do very very questionable things in the name of love.

But the key difference between them is that Yandere! Soldier wants you to love him back. He does terrible things to you and knows that they're terrible. He's guilty about taking by force what you haven't offered. So when you do start to show an unhealthy attachment to him, he's willing to believe you. He's willing to call it love, even though he knows that deep down it's just some awful coping mechanism.

Yandere! Soldier is also relatively kind to the reader. He isn't excessively violent or cruel towards you. I think Stockholm Syndrome is a lot more likely to develop in a situation like that; when your captor would under any other circumstances be a relatively nice guy.

In contrast Yandere! Military Contractor has no illusions about guilt or even love. He knows what he's doing to you is 'morally wrong.' He just doesn't care. He doesn't need you to love him back or show him affection because he knows there's no way you can escape him.

He's a lot worse than Yandere! Soldier in terms of emotion too. He's just dead inside. I think part of it has to do with honour and duty and all those high minded ideals. Soldier can tell himself that everything he does is in service of a higher purpose - protecting his country, protecting his comrades, keeping you safe. Yandere! Military Contractor has none of that. He fights for the highest bidder regardless of whether he thinks it's justified or noble. Hell, he isn't sure what those things even mean anymore.

So if you do show him love, if you do develop that sort of coping mechanism, I don't see it actually changing anything. He already has what he wants from you. Your consent, willingness and affection don't even feature on his radar. He'll have you whenever and wherever he chooses, whether you agree to it or not.

[cheezy-whizz]

“Rock and roll is such a macho genre”

rock music:

[victorzhuzhakin]

I hope the warning works because I don't know how to do it on tumblr

Some time ago, my friends and I discussed an AU (?) where Starscream could attend Megatron's performances as a gladiator in his youth, but I only got around to it now. Oh yeah, the violent middle aged thug and his two non cis fans (one will later become his husband and the second will become something like an adopted son)

Note: Megatron's mouth is bleeding because he bit someone's ear off, not because his teeth were knocked out. I think that's an important clarification, yeah

My commissions :]

[niteskysx]

Practice Makes Perfect

Stepbrother NAC x Reader

Warnings: Dubious consent, blackmail, manipulation, vibrator use. 🤭

You were halfway up the stairs when you heard his voice. “Hey!”

It was Nic.

He was leaning against the frame of his bedroom door, with a sharp grin, and wearing a maroon leather jacket that glistened under the hallway light. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d been out doing something he shouldn’t have. Knowing Nic, he probably was. Typical.

You froze mid-step, gripping the bannister. “What is it, Nic?” you asked softly, trying to keep your tone neutral.

He tilted his head, gesturing with a nod toward his room. “I’ve got something to show you. Come here.”

Your stomach twisted uneasily. “Nic, I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

His grin widened as he stepped forward, blocking your way. “It’ll only take a minute. Promise.” His voice dropped slightly, coaxing. “I got you something. C’mon.”

You hesitated, looking down at your feet. Your parents were still awake downstairs, the sound of the television drifting up faintly. You didn’t want to risk it. You didn’t want to risk him.

“Nic…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

But he was already moving, his hand gently grazing your wrist as he tugged you toward his room. “You’re gonna like it. I promise,” he murmured.

You followed reluctantly, your pulse quickening as he closed the door behind you. The click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine. His room was dimly lit, his leather jacket tossed onto the bed as he rummaged through a drawer.

When he turned around, he was holding a small device in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

“Oh, this?” He held it up, his expression unreadable. “It’s just something I thought you might like.”

You backed up slightly, your throat dry. “Nic… I-I don’t know about this.”

He smirked, stepping closer, the playful glint in his eye never faltering. “Relax. It’s nothing. I just wanna test something. Y’know, before I try it with my girlfriend.”

The mention of her stung more than it should have, though you weren’t sure why. “You should just… try it with her then,” you mumbled, glancing toward the door.

He laughed softly, the sound low and teasing. “Yeah, but what if I mess it up? You want us to stay together, don’t you?”

Your heart raced as he placed the small object on the bedside table, his hand gently brushing your cheek as he leaned in slightly. His voice dropped to a whisper, his tone soft but undeniably firm. “I trust you, y’know? You’d tell me if it was too much.”

You swallowed hard, your mind screaming to leave, but your body was frozen under the weight of his gaze. It was always like this with Nic—this push and pull, this constant battle between what you knew was right and the way he made your skin tingle whenever he came near you.

“Nic.” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Just for a minute,” he said, his tone almost gentle now. “Please?”

You should’ve known better, but you didn’t.

“Okay…” you murmured, feeling heat rise to your face.

His face lit up with a boyish excitement that somehow made him even more dangerous. He clapped his hands together, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “Yes! I promise you’re going to love this.”

You perched yourself on the edge of his bed.

He swiftly grabbed the device and you watched as he inspected its buttons. The way he looked at it, with a mix of curiosity and determination, made your stomach churn.

“Okay, um…” He turned it over in his hands, pressing a button that made the device hum softly. The sound sent a jolt through you, and you shifted uncomfortably. “What setting do you think?”

“W-what?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned his head to look at you, his expression teasing but with an edge of sincerity that threw you off balance. “The setting. Low? Medium? High?”

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your hands gripping the hem of your shirt as you tried to avoid his gaze.

He leaned in closer, his hand resting on your lap, his fingers drummed lightly against your knee for a moment before he turned his attention back to the device in his hands.

“We’ll start with low,” he said confidently, his smirk softening into a focused expression as he fiddled with the buttons.

The soft hum returned, a faint vibration that seemed to echo louder in your ears than it actually was. Your stomach twisted into knots, fearing which type of new sensations or feelings you might be experiencing in the new few seconds.

He looked up at me. “You trust me, right?”

You hesitated, your gaze darting to the door.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “C’mon, Y/N. Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That line—it always felt like a trap. Like he was dangling some false sense of safety in front of you, knowing full well how much power he held.

“Okay,” you mumbled, barely able to get the word out.

Good,” he murmured, his tone low and teasing as he placed the vibrator in you further and further. “Here. Feel that? Not so scary, right?”

You flinched at the sensation, your pulse racing as the vibrations buzzed softly against you.

“N-no…” you stammered, your voice trembling.

“Good girl,” he said with his gaze heavily fixated on your reactions, the words lingering like a quiet command.

Taglist: @violetidk @nicholaschavezslut69 @hoffmansgirl @blackynsupremacy @blog-o-meter @lazysoulwriter @c-cobweb 🤍

[swarmishstrangers]

Bisexual Gambit icons cause I need more of him, the world needs more of him, and I am but a starving fan.

(You can use without credit btw)