#I just rewrote

[imitationgame77]

A silly short fic...

When MB, ART, Ratthi, and Gurathin play a game of Cluedo

When Amena started at PanSystem University of Mihira and New Tideland (PSUMNT) , Dr. Mensah, Farai, and Tano wanted to come and see her settle down. Arada, Overse, and Bharadwaj had a workshop to run so they could not come, but Pin-Lee, Ratthi and Gurathin came. They had been invited to join a project at PSUMNT, and Pin-Lee has been finalising their contract.

There was a two-hour break before the next meeting, and Ratthi suggested we take a look at the library. The PSUMNT library is much larger than the one in the FirstLanding University on Preservation.

ART has a copy of a large portion of it, but mostly what it and its crew consider relevant to their missions. Others expressed desire to visit some shops – things available on New Tideland being very different from those on Preservation – it was just Ratthi, Gurathin and me who went to the library. (Of course, ART came by default.)

There were media booth, periodical collections from multiple systems, archive storage, non-digital materials section, and more, on multiple floors. I downloaded books, music, and some documentary videos that I have not seen before. I have also managed to scan some of the non-digital materials, tagged for later sorting, and stored them. (ART moved some of these in our shared storage space so that I don’t have to delete files in my archive to make more room.)

At one point, Ratthi called me and Gurathin over to a little room off the non-digital game section. He held an old-looking rectangular box with images of humans standing around with what is generally described as mystified expressions.

“Look what I found.”, said Ratthi, excitedly. “It’s a physical boardgame – I have heard about it in historical material, but never seen one like this!”

Gurathin looked at it with his usual sceptical expression. “’Cluedo’? Find clues and solve a case?”

ART said, Cluedo is an old board game of deduction and strategy, originating from the Earth. Players take on the roles of characters investigating a murder mystery in a mansion. Through strategic movement and deduction, players gather clues about the suspect, weapon, and room where the crime occurred. The game involves collecting and eliminating possibilities through questioning other players and exploring various rooms. Ultimately, players make accusations to solve the mystery. Cluedo combines elements of logic, deduction, and suspense, offering a dynamic and engaging experience as players race to uncover the truth behind the murder mystery.

Gurathin looked startled, but said, “Thank you, Perihelion”, politely. He is still not used to ART hanging around our feed. As an augmented human with advanced feed interface like Iris, he has more in-feed awareness, but don’t forget ART is monster. It can hide its presence when it suits it and surprises humans with sudden comments. I know it’s doing that on purpose.

Ratthi said, “I want to play it. For anthropological research, of course.”

Gurathin sighed, but agreed, knowing that Ratthi can be very insistent.

--------------------------------------

(Transcript of the conversation during Cluedo practical assessment)

Ratthi: Alright, let’s get started. SecUnit, you can go first.

Me: Why do I have to be Professor Plum?

Gurathin: Because you’re the one most likely to hack the system and solve the mystery in two turns.

Me: Fine. I’ll move to the library.

ART: Do you suspect anyone yet, SecUnit?

Me: Not really, but let’s say… Professor Plum with the lead pipe in the library.

Gurathin: The rule states that you’re not supposed to suspect yourself.

Me: Rules are stupid. It’s a valid strategy.

ART: I concur

Ratthi: This is going to be a long game.

(after 6.5 minutes)

ART: Based on the current data, the likelihood of Colonel Mustard being the culprit is 75.27%. I suggest moving to the dining room.

Gurathin: Great, now an advanced machine intelligence is predicting our moves. This is supposed to be a game, not a strategic simulation.

Me to Gurathin: Do you think you can stop ART?

ART: That would be tremendously brave - or stupid.

Me: These are synonyms in humans.

Gurathin: *Sighs audibly*

Ratthi: I’ll just stick to my hunches, thank you very much.

(3.6 minutes later)

Gurathin: I suspect Miss Scarlet with the wrench in the conservatory.

Ratthi: Nope, not even close. My turn.

(4.1 minutes later)

Ratthi: I suspect Mrs. Peacock with the candlestick in the ballroom.

Me: ART?

ART: According to my calculations, there’s a 91.45% chance that the candlestick is not the murder weapon.

(8.5 minutes later)

Me: Alright, I think I’ve got it. Colonel Mustard with the rope in the study.

Gurathin: Are you sure about that? That seems unlikely.

Me: ART?

ART: I concur with SecUnit. The data supports this conclusion.

Ratthi: OK, let’s check the envelope.

(after 4 seconds)

Ratthi: Well, looks like SecUnit won.

ART: Of course it did. It has solved real-life cases of dead humans.

Gurathin: Please don’t remind me.

Ratthi: Next time, we’re playing something that doesn’t involve deduction and strategy.

[moechies]

satoru’s punishments 🎀🎶

gojo satoru who focuses his infinity around his already-meaty cock so you’re unable to sink that pretty pussy down on him.

satoru is naturally one to discipline, considering his profession as a teacher. he knows clearly what’s right from wrong, and won’t let you off the hook as if you’re one of his students. you think it’s unfair, but if you were to think that gojo satoru cared so much about your incessant little opinions, you’d be called dumb.

your soppy cunt prods against his protected tip, urging your body lower to sheath his fat girth inside, but to no avail.

“satoru,” you mewl, “i said ‘m sorry. really r-really sorry.”

“hm.” he shrugs, one hand cupping your soft butt, and the other around the edge of your waist. his fake efforts to help you when he’s the one preventing you from pleasure is ironic, and it makes you an unspoken amount of angry.

but your anger is overwhelmed by your carnal desires from the sight of him alone, and the only thing floating through your pretty little mind is to get this cock in you.

“please— let me—“

“no.”

he glides your slick cunt across the faux protection, grinding you down so harshly, spreading your sensitive lips and pressing against your clit so harshly it almost hurts. “y’don’t deserve it, you brat.”

“i d— i do, satoru. d-don’t say that !”

he can’t deny how your sweet little mewls and begs for cock get him uncomfortably hard, wanting nothing more than to feel your chubby walls flesh to flesh with his cock. but he knows you’ll never learn, knows that you’ll be just as bad if he lets you off. even if it’s just this once.

“satoru—“

his wet cock slips from under you, falling against his pelvis and plapping against his tummy. you take the chance to lower yourself, rubbing your sore cunt on the smooth length of his cock.

you rock your hips ever so gently, grinding down on visible, but untouchable veins decorating his gorgeous cock. you’re eager to get your cunt off, but ensure your boyfriend doesn’t grow any angrier.

gojo undeniably grinds up just as desperately against your cunt, listening to the tuneful melody your sweet pussy plays for him. short pants leave his dewy lips, holding your chubby hips down firmly and setting his own pace. “shit. brat.”

he loves the look of panic in your eyes when his hips come to a slow, and soon to a stop, leaving you to mindlessly grind on his cock alone. your crying clit tingles from everything that’s led up to this moment.

but—

“did i say you could do that ?”

your movements come to an abrupt stop when his hands splay across your hot thighs, holding you down tight against his pelvis.

“b-but, you were also grindin—“

“yeah, i was. did i say you could ?” he spits, voice laced with poisonous venom that silences you immediately. his eyes are intimidating, not an ounce of forgiveness or pity lays within them.

“not good. what to do with you ?”

he tugs you off his hip, switching your position so that you’re soon under him.

and for the first time, his bare cock slaps against your puffy lips, and nudges at your raw clit. you moan with inexpectance, the mere feel of his cock slapping against your raw cunt nearly has you cumming.

“s a shame y’don’t know how to act right. c’mere.” he motions, pressing down on your shivering shoulder, “come ‘n suck your cock rights back.”

[bkgsdoll]

🍮⠀⠀ notes: popular!bakugou x nerdy!reader, fluffy, college au ‿ ୧ 🍡⠀ word count: 839

everyone's either in love with bakugou or wants to be him. he always has people bombarding him with questions about his quirk or trying to get close to him. he doesnt mind the attention. bakugou carries a large amount of pride that comes along with his popularity. he's worshipped, always walking the halls with people following him.

but then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes. you keep to yourself in your own little world for the most part with very few close friends. your seat is in front of bakugou in all of your shared lectures, and you never bothered him, not once. truth be told, he never really thought about you until a specific night.

slamming his friend's car door shut, bakugou grumbles, "you idiots." he wasted yet another good night for studying. he threw it away by partying with people he didn't even find interesting. gosh, it's already 10:30. he wouldn't be able to stay awake. but he can't just go to sleep! nono, exams are too close. he needs glue all of the information he can into his brain. kirishima had recommended getting a study buddy-- who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? the girls would be distracted by his "huge muscles" and "unique hair" while any guys would be begging to see his quirk in action.

fuck this! katsuki doesn't need anyones help.

that confident thought bubble changes as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories. he remembers that quiet dork in most of his classes.. you seem pretty normal for the most part. a bit of a nerd too, so he wouldn't be worried about you having the wrong shit written down. with an ashamed grunt, he decides to find your dorm.

you munch on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, going over notes you'd gotten from yesterday's lecture. you tiredly lean back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you're slightly bopping your head to the quiet music playing in the background when you hear heavy thuds of someone walking towards your room. you perk up when said person knocks on your door softly. you happily smile, thinking maybe one of your friends are stopping by. excited you made so many cookies, you hurry to the door and swing it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and drained frown, the katsuki bakugou stands at your door.. odd. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, just-- wasn't expecting you." you nervously rub your arm, leaning against the door frame.

he lazily raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "you expectin' someone?"

you shake your head. "nope.." you mutter with an awkward smile. bakugou eyes you up and down quickly, quietly clearing his throat at the small amount of clothing adorning your body. you bite your lip embarrassedly while averting your gaze. "you wanna come in?" you chirp, stepping to the side. he lets out a soft hum of confirmation, taking big strides into your dorm before you shut the door behind him. he walks over to your desk to observe your neatly written notes. "i need someone to study with-- you aren't stupid or anythin' right?" he cocks a brow, turning his head to look at you.

you hum lightly. "mm no, i dont think so.."

the scruffy boy plops down in your heart-shaped chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such precious time working on. you fiddle with your fingers shyly, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch bakugou. "..do you want a cookie?" you politely ask, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

his eyes flicker to the plate, hesitantly taking a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. it was soft and chewy-- and warm. his crimson eyes brighten a little, just a little. "'s not bad. would be better with coffee." he stares at the bitten cookie, cupping his other under the treat, careful not to make a mess. your bubbly self returns, offering a sweet smile. "coffee coming up!"

that day was the first of many of you and katsuki spending time together. you were never around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou. and as for him, he thought you were decently likeable. you made him feel good about himself without talking about his quirk or giant pecs. you also never asked if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

you had talked more than he anticipated. that night, bakugou found himself quiet while you blabbed about whatever came into your head, and he didn't mind it at all. even after that study session and hanging out numerous times, you're still that one quiet nerd in the classroom. only he gets to see the chatty side of you-- and he likes that. makes him feel special.

[bamsara]

is there a safe and viable way to hotglue my laptop charger into the actual laptop charging port? Arson has no battery and thus cannot work without being plugged up into a wall but I'd still like to use him for light work/writing with what keyboard he has left because i can't sit at my desk on really bad body days

i already tried using tape and that just. didnt work

[theunmarkedtombstone]

Evil Dead is great because Ashley is fucking insane and then when they showed he worked in retail I was like oh yeah that explains it nothing to do with demons just working with the public

[lunian]

saw this meme once again and thought about my lovely olympians

[toujoursrab]

Prompt: Dare (@into-the-jeggyverse) | Pairing: Jegulus | Word Count: 607

There weren’t many rules involved when playing Truth or Dare, but one of rules Regulus and his friends abided by was that dares involving people not involved in their game had to be completed with in the week. Regulus had been sitting on his dare for a week, and today was the day he would have to complete by dare or face the consequences.

It wasn’t as if the dare was particularly difficult. ‘Kiss James Potter…’ That part was easy considering they were dating and had snogged countless times. It was when Barty added the ‘in front of Sirius’ part that the dare became more difficult to carry out.

Sirius was blissfully unaware his best friend was sneaking around with his little brother. While James was ready to tell Sirius, Regulus was too fearful. Things between the Black brothers weren’t the best. They barely spoke to each other in the last year, although sometimes they held staring contests. Regulus would look at Sirius, catch his eye, and they would just stare until one of them looked away.  James told Regulus that Sirius loved him and wanted to talk to him, but Regulus didn’t believe that. No matter how many staring contests they held, it would never replace the look of disappointment and disgust Sirius’ directed at him the night he left.

“Time’s ticking.” Barty reminded Regulus with an amused grin. “You should’ve told pretty boy.”

“I’m aware.” On both accounts. Regulus didn’t tell James of the dare because he was hoping it would somehow go away. But like most of his problems he couldn’t avoid them in hopes that thing would just fade until they no longer existed. “I’m going.”

“You’re doing it now?” his friend snorted, looking around the Great Hall as Regulus got up from the Slytherin table. “I said in front of Black, not the entire school, but by all means. I’ll enjoy the show.” Leave it to Regulus to be overdramatic and cause a scene. The Blacks were famous for it; either do it up big or do nothing at all.

Despite his heart hammering in his chest, Regulus strolled leisurely to the Gryffindor table. He only stopped once he was behind James, reaching out to tap his shoulder. The Marauders fell silent when they noticed Regulus presence, James turning to face him and a slow smile forming on his lips but his eyes showing just how concerned he was. Regulus has never approached him publicly.

“Regulus.” It was Sirius who spoke first, sitting across from James and unbeknownst to him, having the best seat in the house for what was about to come.

Regulus ignored Sirius and the way his stomach dropped and his face heat up in an embarrassing blush. He felt like he was going to throw up and that would not be a very attractive scene.

“Are you alright?” James stood up from where he was sitting, reaching out for Regulus but stopping himself. His arms fell back to his side, fingers curling around nothing.

Somehow Regulus found his voice, his eyes locking with James. “I’m fine, Potter. Better than, I’m spectacular.”

Before James could tell Regulus, he was not, in fact, spectacular, Regulus found a burst of confidence. He reached for James’ tie, wrapping his pale fingers around the red and gold fabric before pulling James in. Their lips met in a chaste kiss but neither pulled away. Once James got over his initial surprise, he laughed happily against Regulus’ mouth causing the younger to relax as he felt James’ hand curl around his hip to pull him in closer as if no one, namely Sirius, was watching.

[malenjoyer]

Hi everyone. I will try to slowly in private my old art since it seems to be something I have to manually do…

I wrote a super long post about how I’ve been trying to process everything: feelings regarding the impersonation, feeling of violation of boundaries, this weird sensation of adjusting to different perceptions of my online self when to me, I’m just a random regular guy.

I’m still processing it but I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want something I love so dearly to be tainted to the point of feeling like I should just blow up everything. I miss posting and I miss reading tags, I miss reading comments… I miss seeing the little snippets of thoughts.

There is still good in that and I still like comics. I want to thank everyone who’s been incredibly supportive so far. I like sharing a space with passionate people who love things I love

[ionlylikemycat]

when martha jones is dying, all sorts turn up on her doorstep. mickey sent out messages everywhere to everywhen, and they all came. people she’d helped, friends she’d loved, the odd alien or two who’d wanted to whisk her away for a romance across the stars

captain jack harkness is the last of all of them

she isn’t sure how long it’s been for jack, he looks ever the same. she saw him last a few years ago when he left earth for some adventure, but martha knows time travelers, knows the look on someone’s face when it’s been a hundred years since they last saw you

sad and happy and regret and just plain old love

jack tells her stories. makes her laugh. holds her thin hand in the night when she’s shaking and cold under three blankets but mickey needs all the sleep he can get

he loves her just as plainly as he always has, because it was never about her youth or her beauty but about her, about the universal Force that is martha jones

and she loves him, because she always will, because when you fly through the time vortex with people they get stuck in your heart and never leave you

martha spends three days debating with mickey if she should tell jack. about new new york, and the motorway, and his actual, permanent death. they wonder if it would help him, that there really was going to be an end someday, or if it’ll just hurt knowing he’ll have to spend billions of years forced back to life before he’s allowed to rest

jack leaves on the fourth day. martha and mickey wave goodbye from the garden steps. jack kisses them both on each cheek and then the mouth, a last goodbye for when the word just isn’t enough

“jack!” martha calls out as his vortex manipulator beep-boops an incoming teleport. he turns back just as the light surrounds him, “you are not alone.” jack raises his arm in a salute, and that is the last they ever see of him

she dies two weeks later, home on earth with mickey and tish and leo beside her, with the sound of all the kids and grandkids playing in the garden floating up to her window. and she knows. knows that the time will come and the universe will turn on and on and on, and one day

martha jones and captain jack harkness will be together for the final time, again

continuation of this post

[goldfish-afterhours]

Genshin Characters When They Realize They Love You

Characters: Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao x gn!reader

Type/genre: Bulleted headcanons, fluff, slight angst

Warnings: Self-doubt/anxiety, not proofread

Kaeya

Knows he loves you when you tolerate his antics

You see through his flirtatious mask, and though you may roll your eyes in exasperation sometimes, you never lose your patience with him

Sometimes you even join in on his bits, telling tall tales to children or helping him convince the town that drinks were half-off at the Angel’s Share tonight

“If enough people believe it, then Master Diluc has to follow through, right? Can’t let his regulars down~”

Kaeya has been itching to say those three words. He can feel it creeping up his throat everytime you scold him for taking his tricks too far, everytime you smile at him

But for some reason, he finds himself holding back

What if you leave? What if you perceive it as weakness?

What if you don’t love him back?

He knows these thoughts are irrational, but he cannot stop his worst fears from creeping into his head

But the longer he waits to say it, the deeper of a hole he digs for himself

He loved you with his entire being. He was only trying to protect himself

So how come you were standing in front of him, hands covering your face as you sobbed that he didn’t love you?

Upon seeing you in that state, in a panic Kaeya forgets about the scared little boy in the rain, and the words come rushing out before he can stop them

“I’m sorry. I love you, I love you more than anything in this world, I promise. I…I love you. So please…don’t cry.”

Childe

Realizes he loves you just as you are beating someone up for information

Not surprisingly, Childe is addicted to the thrill that danger brings. And if the thrill comes in the form of you, isn’t it obvious he is addicted to you as well?

And what else could that be but love?

Also he’s just into people who can beat him up

No such thing as a bad time or place. The moment he realizes he loves you, those three words are already flying out of his mouth

Everyone in the situation was stunned—it was enough to make you stop punching the treasurer hoarder in the face, and the treasurer horder was staring at him dumbfounded through bloodied, swollen eyes

“Don’t mind me, I just felt like saying it. As you were, then?”

Zhongli

Knows he’s in love with you when you remember the things he forgets

As a god, there weren’t many things he had to remember to carry on his physical person, so he’s still getting used to it

After all, what use is food to an immortal being, an umbrella when his clothes were already soaked in blood, or mora to the God of Money?

But after leaving his archonhood behind, he has to start carrying such things around

He’s trying his best, but is still getting used to it so he frequently forgets

But you remember for him

You show up at his workplace, lunchbox in hand, chiding him for forgetting when you worked so hard cooking it this morning

You show up just as he clocks out for the day, a large umbrella held over your head to block the pitter-patter of the rain, saying how you didn’t want him to get his new suit wet

You chase after Zhongli on his way to the marketplace, scolding him between pants for making you run to give him his wallet

You could’ve let him suffer the consequences for his airheadedness, but instead you go out of your way to cover for him, and he loves you so much for it

The next time you give him something he forgot, he thanks you with a kiss

“Thank you for bringing it for me, my flower. I love you.”

Xiao

Realizes he loves you when you stay, despite it all

You’re not afraid of him. Even as a bringer of death and destruction, you don’t even hesitate to be around him

Even as the dark forces of his karmic ties suffocate him, you stay by his side, comforting him with quiet encouragements as he endures the pain

It’s not just because you’re the only thing keeping him sane. Even when the whispers grow quiet, you bring a sense of peacefulness and serenity to Xiao, one he hasn’t felt in thousands of years

You make him feel safe

You’ve made it clear to him that you’re not going anywhere, and he cannot begin to express how much he needed you to ground him

On one of the days the demons become head-splittingly loud in his ears, you cradle him in your arms, whispering sweet nothings to overpower the voices

Slowly but steadily, they grew quieter and quieter, until all Xiao could hear was your honeyed voice and the sound of his own harsh breathing

Overcome with appreciation for you, he opened his mouth to say something, but he was exhausted

All he could utter were three words that only began to dip into the reverence he has for you

“I…love you.”

[petrichorium]

the merman is back.

it’s a little weird how used to him you’ve gotten. he’d only shown up for the first time a few months ago, but when you’re largely alone out on the boat or in your oceanfront lab there’s no shortage of ways for him to visit with nobody around.

he’s yet to tell you a name, but after the first few weeks of silence he suddenly revealed a passable understanding of english; when he speaks it's rudimentary, but he clearly understands everything you say, even if he doesn’t listen half the time.

you haven’t gotten the nerve to get in the water with him. in fact, you haven’t gotten in the water at all since he arrived, even when your colleagues are around and he’s notably not. he’s massive, his tail alone being well over two meters long and possessing the torso of a man who would tower over you on dry land (a handsome man, you're begrudged to admit, with those broad shoulders and blood red eyes and that ash blond hair that somehow looks good immediately coming out of the water). he’s assured you in his blunt, curt way that of course he doesn’t want to eat you but you still have anxieties about getting out into the open water you’ve always loved and being pulled under by a fucking sea monster.

he’s getting bolder, though. when you take the boat out today, he follows it, like the dolphins used to back when you operated out of the keys; that sleek black body would be terrifying just from the size, like seeing a fully grown orca bump up against the hull.

and when you weigh anchor, almost immediately, the boat keels aftward when he pulls himself onto the deck.

you shriek and he immediately pins you with a steely glare. he’s never done that before. it’s fucking terrifying, though he’s not managed to drag his whole body up and you’re a little comforted by that. it’s just his arms—two massive, heavily muscled things that are flexed and crossed in front of him, holding his head, shoulders, and much of his human-like torso up out of the water with ease. that enormous tail trails behind him and it’s still terrifying to see, your heart skipping a beat every time the shimmering orange markings catch your eye.

you don’t know what you’ll do if he decides to come all the way onto the boat. he wouldn’t be able to maneuver that well, but where the fuck would you go? into the damn water?

“fucking christ!” you yelp. “don’t just do that, motherfucker!”

“calm,” he snaps as he rolls his eyes.

the urge to flip him the bird is overshadowed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t understand, and you’re too frazzled to explain what go fuck yourself means. instead, you turn back around to clean up the cabin that he’s managed to mess up.

“oi, human, come.”

you huff, shouting your name at him and pointedly refusing to turn away from your task. he’s clearly annoyed at that, and you belatedly realize that perhaps if you’re really that terrified of him coming onto the boat you shouldn’t provoke him. luckily, rather than heaving himself up, he jerks the entire hull.

it’s a smooth motion for him, gripping the stern and rolling his tail so that the boat moves with him. it’s like being out in a storm, and though you’re well aware that it’s just your needy visitor, your sea-hardened stomach still lurches at the familiar feeling.

you stumble out of the cabin, careful not to be thrown over the edge. “i’m out! holy shit, i have a damn job you know, i can’t spend all my time catering to your whims.”

he stops as soon as you get back on deck. “calm,” he tells you again, and you're really starting to hate the word, “too loud.”

“who’s fucking fault is that? don’t rock my damn ship.”

“sit,” he demands rather than apologizing.

there are a plethora of reasons not to. you won’t be able to get away quickly if you need to, you shouldn’t be encouraging his demands by obliging immediately, you really do have a job to do instead of… whatever this is—instead of listening to any one of those reasons, you ease yourself down with your legs crossed a little ways away from where he’s holding himself.

he snarls, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth. “closer.”

“no,” you snap. “not if you’re threatening me.”

his mouth shuts immediately, brow furrowed and lips pouting in an expression that’s less pleading or apologetic and more contemplative.

“not a threat,” he seems to settle on saying.

you roll your own eyes. “yeah. okay.”

“come here.”

“why?”

“wanna feel you.”

that throws you for a loop. what could he mean by that? you realize that perhaps he’s as fascinated by you as you are by him.

you’ve caught him staring at your body in the past. he’s never reacted like you’d expect—if you’d caught a human looking at you like that and then turning away when you caught his eye, he’d have been checking you out. but when it’s an apex predator of a different species, there’s an entirely different context, one you’re even less enthused about.

you’re standing before you’ve fully thought it through, fully freaked and ready for him to go. you barely get to uncross your legs, however, before he lunges.

it’s far faster than your not-normally-hunted-because-you’re-a-modern-person mind can follow. a cold, clawed hand snaps out to latch around your ankle and yanks you downward, slamming your back into the boat’s coarse deck and then dragging you towards the edge. there’s not even time for you to shriek.

this is it, you think. he’s going to eat you now; he’ll drag you under and rip you apart, or maybe he’ll drown you first as a mercy. you hope he doesn’t want to play with you further, drag you into the water and let go to make you swim because he wants a chase.

the moment your ankle hits the water he stops.

you’re breathing heavily, free leg still braced on the deck, arms finding purchase on a pole nearby. his whole body is underwater aside from his eyes and the very top of his head, but you can still see that massive dark shadow—only little flashes of that pretty orange-gold patterning visible as his scales glint beneath the sun—and it sends a thrill through you. he’s so ungodly enormous.

that hand is still around your ankle, but it’s looser now. his mouth is beneath the waves so he doesn’t speak, but his eyes are soft and almost regretful as he regards you.

“okay…” you move slowly, getting to a better position. it pulls your captive ankle from the water and the movement causes his grip to tighten as if he’s reluctant to remove it—he doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t let you go. you’re forced to sit on the edge of the deck with your feet dangling over the side.

“let me feel you,” he tries again, as if he’s giving you a choice.

“ask,” you decide upon demanding. his words have made you realize, with a burst of shame and a promise to never tell anyone in the future, that you’re not entirely opposed to the strange rude merman feeling you.

you’re gifted a growl, not unlike the snarl from before but lacking the teeth. he’s learning, you realize, not only in not baring those terrifying weapons at you but also in removing his hand from your ankle.

“can i… touch you,” he spits out, like the words and your request are insulting.

and again you think there are far too many reasons to give in just like that. you’ve been around enough children to know that rewarding problematic behavior is hardly the way forward, but there’s a certain part of your brain that’s in control right now and it’s not particularly interested in breaking him of his demanding attitude (quite the contrary, to your chagrin, this very annoying part of your brain is enjoying it).

“are you sure you’re not going to eat me?”

“no eating.” he huffs, wrinkling his nose.

“what, i smell bad or something.”

he regards you, approaching a little closer, and you resist the urge to pull your legs up to hold your knees to your chest.

“smell good,” he says, “not like food.”

all right.

“fine, then. if you’re not going to take a bite out of my calf, then… sure. feel me, i guess.”

he’s just as fast as before, not even waiting for you to finish your sentence before he’s lashing out and grabbing your leg again. this time, he’s not looking at your face; he’s focused entirely on your feet, those big hands inspecting them thoroughly.

it’s rough, and you’re a little glad because if he’d been gentle it would have likely been too ticklish. he’s still careful with his massive claws; you’re sure they’re sharp enough to pierce your skin with ease, and he’s clearly skilled enough to avoid it. you’re more than thankful, because you’ve seen how he hunts with them (he’s dropped disemboweled fish in front of you before as strange gifts) and you don’t want your legs to end up like his prey even if he doesn’t eat you.

he moves on from your feet, both hands latching onto one calf and almost massaging it in reverence. his face is even closer now; you really ought to be more worried by the proximity of those teeth to your skin, but the fascination on his face is so enthralling.

by the time he reaches the back of your knee, you're tensing. while before he’d been mostly in the water, he’s very nearly at your height now, holding himself up by his grip on you and an awkward hold on the deck with his spare hand.

and then he’s at your thigh, and your breath is heavy.

because he’s basically laid out on your lap, one arm wrapped entirely around your upper leg such that his large palm rests flush, fingers spread, against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. and he’s no less fascinated, expression no less sincere, as he pulls further up to get closer.

“warm,” he says, more to himself than you. he blinks, as if shaking away a daze, and his eyes jump up from your thighs to look at your stomach. “soft…”

his head drops. you jump, caught up in the strange haze he's brought with him but snapping out of it as he lays his head on your lap. your heart thumps erratically, your breath long bated. he’s not looking at your thigh anymore, and not your face either—he’s locked on your stomach, your loose t-shirt having ridden up slightly to reveal more bare skin.

you ought to see it coming, really, but when that big, cold hand moves from your thigh to your torso, sliding smoothly beneath your shirt and running up your bare stomach, you yelp and jolt back.

he startles, and then he’s gone, slipping back off you and disappearing down into the murky water. you’re left panting, with nothing but a very wet body and the ghost of his touch on your legs…

and the heat of your face at the knowledge that, while you’d been surprised, you kind of wanted him to go further.

[thequeenofsastiel]

Angel should have fallen in love with Giles.

Think about it. Angel was WAY too old for Buffy, and the fact that he preyed on an underage girl damaged his character in an unnecessary way. Giles is age appropriate. Sure, he's not 200+, but he's in his forties, which is reasonably mature in human years. Giles had already grown up and had had other sexual and romantic relationships. I don't think that there would be an emotional power difference age wise. Angel should have been a mentor to Buffy, which would have given him something to connect with Giles over. They're both also highly intelligent bookworms(I'll fight anyone who calls Angel dumb; he has a photographic memory and knows several languages, the fact that he has blind spots and isn't always smart about every single thing doesn't take away from that), and I bet Giles would love to hear about all the historical events that Angel was there for, and all the things he knows about other cultures. Angel would be very intrigued to learn all the things Giles knows about Slayers and demons from the Watcher's archives, and whatever other knowledge Giles might have accrued in his life. I can also see them liking the same music.

Giles could have given Angel his moment of perfect happiness, and Buffy would still have had a hard time killing Angelus because of how much Angel meant to Giles, and because Angel had been a mentor to her that she admired and cared for like Giles. It could have been Giles who killed Angel at the end of s2. Buffy could have fought him until right before Angelus got his soul back, but she gets knocked out, and Giles intervenes right before Angelus kills her, but then he's reensouled. And it's Giles who has to make the heartbreaking choice of killing him.

Then when Angel comes back in s3, Buffy still keeps it from Giles because she's afraid of how much it would wreck him emotionally, and she's also afraid that Giles might accidentally give Angel his moment of perfect happiness again and she doesn't want that to happen. Angel still leaves at the end of s3 because he also doesn't want to risk somehow achieving a moment of perfect happiness without sex, just from a moment of deep love, and he can't bear the thought of all the pain Angelus would cause, especially to the man he loves.

It would have been an interesting romance is all I'm saying.

[lennythereviewer]

After sitting and digesting the new Amazing Digital Circus episode, I've come to the conclusion that I really appreciate Jax for the simple fact that he's the first character in a popular series I can recall in a long while who's just an absolute, unabashed asshole.

It feels like in today's media and storytelling no one wants to make their characters too mean or too unlikable. They're afraid to alienate the audience: The absolutely abysmal sanding down and softening up of The Grinch in the Illumination adaptation back in 2018 specifically comes to mind; their flagship franchise is about villains but they can't make the Grinch, the mean one, MEAN.

If a character is in the 'asshole'-archetype, they always fall into the "Stands off to the side and spouts one-liners and pretends to not care but absolutely has a soft side for this one thing/person" type of character.

Jax is mean, he physically pushes people over and out of the way, he insults everyone around him and bullies Gangle, and his only source of joy is seeing people miserable and suffering; even if they're just NPCs. He's not the type of mean where it's fun to watch what he does, like you would a charismatic villain, he's uncomfortably awful.

He's not the Tumblr Sexyman, watered down and digestible-type of asshole, he's genuinely an awful fucking person and it's honestly refreshing to see a character with some bite to them, and the creator not being afraid to make a polarizing character on purpose.

[a2zillustration]

I carried this thing for MONTHS with the EXPRESS PURPOSE of putting Raphael in it (knowing full well Larian wouldn't let me do that, mechanically) and I had one major miscalculation.

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[katasstrophy]

Bruh Nagi being buff as hell after Manshine's training 🥰🥰🥰

sammy you deadass bout to make me objectify this man on main SO BAD this has been running something of a small marathon in my head so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls accept my humble word vomit

cw. [n]sfw. mdni. pro player! nagi + aged-up characters. bit of body worship(?) you ride his abs. nipple play (m. receiving). subby nagi (but he's actually a switch >:) + some fluff bc he's so baby :(

note. a bit rambly oop soz it’s bc i went insane. i describe how he looks like to ME (re: hot as fuck) but i guess y'all can read it too hehe<3

1.4k words -> how could you ever hope to keep your hands to yourself when nagi's body looks like that.

i feel like unless you have prior knowledge of the fact that nagi is a pro athlete, from a cursory glance, your first thought upon seeing him wouldn’t be “hmm i bet that dude is built like a brick house.” it doesn’t help that nagi’s basically the unofficial king of athleisure — his closet’s chockfull of loose-fitting hoodies and sweats. he barely owns anything else besides those monochrome hooded tracksuits (and sportswear for practice, i guess he’d need some of that too lol) because he claims it’s the only outfit that gives him unlimited access to just lounge about basically anywhere he pleases. it’s what he genuinely finds to be the most comfortable style for him as well. but if you’re fortunate enough to get a peak underneath the layers of baggy clothes? dear god nagi’s built like a fever dream. amen you’ll eat so good then he’s a whole ass feast. 

i’m gonna brazenly speak my truth here so don’t come for me >:( but! from what you’d consider to be “a typical footballer’s physique”, purely from that perspective, nagi’s legs are… not that impressive. his stagnant motivation has much improved ever since he committed to making a career out of soccer, but that doesn’t mean his slacker tendencies haven’t followed suit. don’t get me wrong, he still puts his all into every game so his legs are still very much capable of making your mouth water, but you won’t catch him sprinting up and down the field at full speed if he can help it. packed with lean muscle, his thighs are thick, calves well-defined with a few bold veins thinly zigzagging down the taut skin like a lightning strike on the occasion you happen to catch him after a particularly gruelling conditioning session. but compared to some of his teammates whose legs seem to be carved from iron, he’s a bit.. overshadowed.

it’s a fairly similar story with his arms. (i promise i’m not just talking shit lol i could NEVER my poor meow meow it’s gonna get so hot in a second i swear just bear with me!!!) again, it’s most definitely a drool-worthy sight. the stretch of his arms is long and sinewy, rolling with a set of generous biceps that flutter under the gentle scrap of your fingerpads and nails when he (totally intentionally) flexes the swell of muscle there. in his profession, he mostly uses his arms for balance and to create distance between himself and his opponents. buried in his private nook back home, he has a tendency to hold his phone above his head while playing mobile games — that blissfully only rarely come crashing down on his face — but his unrivalled favourite will, of course, always be enveloping you in his arms <3 

nagi’s not the most expressive person, but his subtle social cues become much easier to pick up on whenever he’s sleepy, which let’s be honest is almost always. he’s in dire need of a snuggle in those moments and not only loves, but craves being close to you physically, his face a canvas of huffy evidence of what a Big Deal this is to him if you learn to read the hidden hints (it’s a pursed, pouty frown nine times out of ten he ain’t slick lmfao). he kind of regards your presence as his “recharging station” what a cringe fail soggy loser man i adore him with my whole heart 🥹 his lanky limbs will snake around you with the security of a vine until you’re all cosy and wrapped up in each other, his hold bearing enough strength to not budge against any playful escape tactics you might attempt — at least not until he decides he’s had his fair share of quality snuggle time with you. 

nagi’s a practical man, however — the world doesn’t call him a lazy genius for nothing. for these, albeit lovely, purposes, he determined there’s absolutely no need to overexert himself by lifting weights to buff up his arms. he can get by just fine! there are definitely more jacked arms out there i’m sorry :(

but here’s the kicker. nagi’s tall. you could even say he’s huge — he’d tower over most people if he actually straightened his posture for once. so his muscle mass kind of stretches out a bit… unevenly throughout his body. he does have muscle mass though, plenty of it, actually, and he needs only to do one tiny little thing to remind you of it: lift his shirt up. 

it’s a subconscious, everyday thing for nagi to toy with the hem of his cotton tees. his fingers often grow restless if they’re just lying about, so playing with the material of his clothes is not only stupidly ready at hand but also helps to soothe the itch brimming along his fingers to do something with them. in the process, you’re rewarded with glimpses of his stomach often when he involuntarily ends up exposing the skin clinging to those hard planes. but what’s objectively worse for your sanity is when nagi comes trudging into the kitchen to ease his thirst. he never bothers with a glass from the cupboard, just swoops down to drink from the open tap, his adam’s apple bopping rhythmically as he swallows. there’s water coating his lips when he rises, a few droplets still running down his chin that he tugs on the ends of his t-shirt to lazily wipe away. it’s an innocent endeavour to him, but a sinful display for you, as it essentially shows off his entire, deliciously shaped midriff. nagi might slack off in other areas, but his core strength is insane. his torso is like a gift from the heavens, chiselled after the image of their gods and heroes. don’t even get me started on his abs.

because i cannot stress enough how perfect nagi’s abs are for grinding your sweet, drooling little cunny on :( the ridges of muscle packed together at his abdomen are firm, but twitch almost uncontrollably when you slowly drag your cunt up and down the sculpted slabs of his stomach that bump against your poor, swollen clit in a way that makes you delirious. your thighs bracket his waist as you move, his waist that is so trim and almost tiny compared to the broad stretch of his shoulders. you can feel the coarse, light hair of his happy trail graze against your bare ass, leading to his heavy, stirring cock still confined in his sweats for now as you continue to leisurely rut your pussy down his abs, leaving a slick mess behind. the hard cut of his v-line is so prominent a thin contour of shadow clings to the underside of it.

nagi wishes desperately that he could help you, that he could sink his fingers into the plush of your skin and push you down along his abdomen to accelerate your high, dictate a more intense pace for you by his hands and make you take it, but he’s too busy being a moaning, blubbering mess underneath you to take initiative. his large palm lies dormant at your waist, the other tangled in his snowy, sweaty bangs so he doesn’t miss even a blink of the intoxicating vision you present above him. he’s drunk on every salacious sound that comes tumbling from your lips, every wanton contortion of your gorgeous face as the lewd squelching of your pussy fills his ears. his defined chest is flushed red from arousal, shuddering with shaky exhales as he all but devours the sight of you — he thinks you using him for your own pleasure is so fucking hot. 

if you want to turn him into an utter wreck, whining like a bitch in heat, please please play with his nipples :( paw at his pecs all needy first, ‘n don’t be afraid to grip the flesh with the blunt of your nails. he’ll mewl about it, but you only need to shush and praise him, tell him how good he looks like this for you and he’ll behave. pinch at the pretty pink of his pebbled nipples, gently circle his areola with your tongue, sucking on the bud and nagi will lose his mind, might even cum untouched :( but that’s okay because he’s so turned on his refractory period is barely an issue, he’ll sink into your tight, sloppy walls in one go and fuck you absolutely senseless on his cock. it’s all you can do to scramble for purchase with your trembling fingers, marking up the milky expanse of his broad back and mouthing at his collarbones to stifle your near pornographic keens and cries as he mercilessly splits you open.

in conclusion nagi seishiro is built like a wet dream and i want him carnally </3

[nebuladreamz]

The voices are loud and I am WEAK