#I kind of do something similar

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Does anyone else in the whump community watch Brave Wilderness, or….

[noodles-and-tea]

For the twins in time AU, I genuinely wonder what kind of people the young twins grow up into because of Stan’s/Ford’s influence. Especially if it takes years for the portal to get fixed.

(Sorry if it seems like I already sent this question, I don’t know if it got sent the first time I asked)

I haven’t fully fleshed out how Ford grows up in the past but I do have thoughts on Stan presently

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[mipexch]

what else would you expect a literal blood machine to gift you besides a coin lodged directly into your chest. happy holidays

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[shimmershy]

Buttercups and Golden Flowers

[iraprince]

if u like listening to music while u work but find urself getting distracted fiddling with queueing stuff/finding The Perfect Playlist/etc my recent hack has been just throwing on youtube videos of dj sets

book club radio is a good channel to start w bc they usually have the overall Vibe of the set in the title (i.e. "dreamy pop mix", "energetic techno mix" etc) so u can pick the general tempo or w/e u want but then it just kind of blends into the bg and u can set it + forget it

any time i put my own playlists on i'm just too familiar w what could be coming up and i end up wasting so much time skipping/scrolling 2 look for specific songs and stuff. dj sets are like putting a post-op doggy cone on me. it;'s out of my hands

[bitchliteraria1906]

Trying to write about how Kyoko and Homura being religious affects their characters but I'm not smart enough to make it coherent.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[raccoon-crown]

I'll always be there for you...

"...every time you see the starry sky"

...

Well, I've been thinking about this since I saw the Tails Starboy AU that @0vergrowngraveyard created (one that almost made me cry...)

If ya don't know about it, it's about what happened in the bad ending from Sonic 2 when ... Well Sonic fails to save Tails and he just appears in the stars at the end.

[uncanny-tranny]

Niche politics tip: If you start dissociating from politics so much it starts feeling like each side is akin to a football team or a game, you might need to take a step back in order to recuperate.

When you're so caught up in politics that you need to dissociate from the humanity of it in order to engage with politics, that's not a good sign. It's especially not a good sign when we are talking about human rights

[vladimpale]

i've been reading about restaurants being used as fronts for illegal businesses such as the mafia so now im just craving an audio drama where the protagonist is this oblivious guy who keeps coming to a mafia run restaurant because they love the food and they keep hearing glimpses about the business but never figure out what's going on. they do accidentally help the mafia a few times and everyone is gently annoyed by them so they just end up being one of the most loved and protected people for the mafia

[feroluce]

Connecting dots tonight (didn't connect shit, I've connected them, etc) because of this post about item descriptions to do with Sampo I saw a few days ago and! I feel like there are so many interesting things that could be implied from this!! Because the recipe for the High-Tech Protective Gear is given to you by Bronya (before the IPC invaded Belobog!), who says this little interesting tidbit about it:

This is an item from before the Eternal Freeze, 700 years ago. Even to the rest of the universe, it would be SORELY outdated. It cannot be made in Belobog anymore due to the loss of entire eras. It is effectively useless; this recipe had to be somewhere gathering dust, kept around solely for archival purposes. There is no reason for Sampo to know about this item or have any idea how it works and yet. AND YET. He's just running around selling knock offs!!

He shouldn't even know how to make these, but the fact that he does means Sampo either

had the blueprints from off-world before he came to Belobog (most likely but also most boring answer)

broke into Qlipoth Fort and copied down the blueprints (completely plausible - he's possibly shown doing exactly that in his splash art)

found another copy out in the ruins of the old world (also completely plausible - Sampo is astoundingly resilient against both the Fragmentum and the cold, as noted by Lynx haha)

Meanwhile, the Inferior Protective Gear recipe comes from an NPC in the underground, and when she gives it to you, she talks about building robots and the robot fighting scene sorry about the quality I didn't have screenshots for her dialogue so I had to use wiki

Which makes me feel like it's safe to say that the inferior gear is mostly being used in the underground, especially by the vagrants and their robots for fights, because...well, who else would use it? Cocolia has made it illegal to explore too far into the Snow Plains, and besides, it's way too dangerous for most civilians even WITH gear. The Silvermane Guards are funded by official sources, they have no reason to rely on Sampo for armor. So it makes sense for an underground mechanic to know the recipe; there's probably not as much market for it up in the overworld.

And if you look at the descriptions, you can see why this probably wasn't something that could be made in Belobog anymore; it requires a charging system of some sort.

We know it's not a problem with the basic materials because all three ingredients can be found right in the administrative district. But the underground only has two of them; somehow, despite being in the planet's crust, and literally crawling with robots...there is no metal down there. It isn't found anywhere, sold by anyone, or dropped by anything. And metal just so happens to be the one ingredient Sampo replaces in his knock off version.

The Inferior Gear uses trash instead, something which, going by the words of that same mechanic, is MORE than abundant in the underground- any good quality parts are extremely difficult to come by down there.

Anyway, all his shadiness aside, I love the implication that Sampo is smart enough to be able to take this item that no one else on the planet probably knows anything about, and was able to figure out what he could replace, and how, and with what, in order to make it easily accessible to the people of the underground, even without access to overworld resources. Because his version DOES work! It literally gives you the exact same amount of defense boost as the IPC one!

Someone should absolutely still knock him around for it, though, world's most slappable face fr fjkdsjfdkjafk

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

i know ive made jokes about it before but being serious for a second. daniel's willingness to accept arthur's objectively batshit confession also just. gets me right in the fucking heart, man. because, like.

yeah. of course he does.

seven is a Big Number, but daniel's never met any of those other people. they don't actually mean anything to him, they obviously weigh on arthur but they're stories he doesn't know and doesn't really care to. they're just, accounting. they're a bunch of guttering candles in the face of the fucking solar flare that is The Reason daniel has to hate arthur. what the fuck does he care about a bunch of people he's never met, that died some reactionary death in self-defense or however arthur wants to justify it? when from daniel's pov arthur's already stolen two of the most important people in his world away from him. everything left of his family, his blood, for no defensible reason. out of nothing but self-absorbed youthful stupidity.

and he's already decided that isn't enough to drive them apart permanently.

so sure, fuck it, seven people. you probably had your reasons. i've already decided to move past worse. add them to the fucking list, or whatever.

because, y'know. he can't lose another person.

[lyril]

i swear this is like my favorite thing in the movie with him because he's literally over here smoothing back his fronds as if they were hair or something and that kind of makes me want to break something and/or throw rocks at him

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 16 - Begging

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: established relationship, unprotected sex, teasing, begging, penetration

word count: 1623

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

You knew Maverick before your relationship blossomed. You knew the kind of man he was. You had known his peers more, had heard their stories about his arrogance and his ego. That was all before he’d finally approached you one night at the O Club, a smirk on his face like he’d already swept you off your feet from the first hello. It was proven to you instantly, how much of it was true. He had been so sure of himself that night, so convinced he was gonna take you home. And he had. There was nothing you could do to prevent yourself from liking him.

You’d expected your little fling to last maybe a week or two, had it already set in mind that he’d probably play you and then immediately move onto the next girl he laid eyes on at the bar. Or according to Slider, maybe replace you with Iceman, what with all the weird eye contact and all. 

Maverick was good looking; had a sweet, crooked smile and sharp eyebrows and the biggest green eyes. The kind of face that just drew you in. A lot of people looked at him. It wasn’t like he was gonna be yours to keep.

Except he totally was. 

And, as the weeks passed, you came to realize how much of his demeanor was simply a facade. Maybe not entirely, but to a certain extent. 

Frankly, Maverick was just extremely well-guarded. As he told you more and more about his past—years and years of foster care, not getting into the Academy like everybody else, his ongoing grief for the family he’d lost—you understood very well why he behaved the way he did. His defiance was freedom, invincibility. Something he could hold onto. 

He had you now too. 

With you, Maverick was able to let his guard down. Easily. He confided in you in ways you wouldn’t expect. He preferred your company over the San Diego nightlife. Skipped out on volleyball games and nights out drinking to cuddle on the couch watching shitty rentals and eating pizza with you. Simplicity went a long way for him, and you quickly grew accustomed to that side of him.

Maverick was still Maverick, however. Unfolding himself for you didn’t mean that that mischievous little glint ever left his eye, nor did it mean he’d let you off the hook when it came to his games. He was the sweetest, most attentive boyfriend in the world, and somehow the most frustrating, too.

It’s almost humiliating, how desperate you get under his touch. He relishes in the excitement that courses through him every time you murmur a please. In fact, he loves it so much that he’s made it tonight’s little game; he’s not gonna touch you unless you beg him. Out loud, everything you want him to do to you. You nearly doubled over and groaned in frustration at his stupid demand. Maverick simply grinned at your exasperation. 

“I’m not begging,” you retort. “That’s humiliating.”

Maverick tsks with a slight tilt of his head. Theatrical. Toying with you. “Looks like we got naked for nothing, then.”

Unbelievable. 

Your clothes are indeed discarded on your floor. Maverick pretends to reach down to grab his shirt, and you stop him. Pulling his arm, you manage to roll him towards you. He hovers over you, a tantalizing smirk on his face. 

You pout and try to bat your lashes at him, hoping he takes pity on you. 

“You want me to pass you your clothes, dear?” he mocks instead, ignoring your pleading face. He wants words. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groan. “Maverick, please.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Please what?”

Your hand wraps around the back of his neck, and you eagerly pull him down for a heated kiss. He lets you, moving his lips against yours with enthusiasm that only deepens your desire for him. You almost think you’ve got him as the kiss escalates, lips turning into mouth and tongue and teeth too. You’re wrong though, your eyes opening mid kiss when you feel the fabric of his shirt against your bare torso. He’d reached for it in the midst of the kiss, bunched it in his fist so that you’d feel it and then feel compelled to actually fucking beg before he pulled away to slip it on.

You push at his chest, lips disconnecting. “Maverick,” you whine, reaching for the shirt. 

He grins again, moves it out of your reach as you squirm around trying to grab it. 

You reach and reach and he moves it, up above your heads, to the side beyond your grasp. “Can you—stop it!” 

He tosses it to the ground again, leans down closer to you. “All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

You stare at him. Fuck. 

Fine.

“Please,” you whisper. “I want you to fuck me.”

You watch the intrigue in his eyes. He responds at an equally soft volume, “How bad?”

Your desire pools in between your legs, a small buzz beginning in the pit of your stomach. “Badly. Now.”

Maverick complies immediately, arm reaching in between your bodies to grab his cock in his fist. He squeezes around himself, groaning slightly at the feeling. Your hands gently cling onto his arms, but your nails dig into his biceps when he rubs the tip against the slick of your folds.

“Tell me again,” he hisses.

“Please,” you reiterate. “I need you now.”

“Hm.” He shifts to his knees, palms on either side of you, dog tags dangling above your face. He reaches down to stroke himself a few more times before aiming his dick against you again, pushing in slightly with a shallow thrust of his hips. 

You groan, eyes closed, feeling him stretch you open just an inch. 

You expect the sting to increase—there hadn’t been much foreplay, which was fine; you were aching for one another—but it doesn’t come. You open your eyes to the sight of him staring down at you, lips parted in shallow pants. Waiting. 

You exhale, frustrated. “Fuck me.”

Another shallow thrust of his hips, stretching you a bit more. He halts again, his other palm returning to the mattress on the other side of you. 

The buzz inside of you heightens, your breathing growing heavy. “Maverick, please. Please.”

Content with your pleading, he moans, allowing himself inside of you another inch. You can’t wrap your head around his persistence; how he’d gladly deny himself just to toy with you. He’s aching to fuck you hard into the mattress, but he’s taking his sweet time instead just to hear you beg. 

“Please, please,” you murmur under your breath, both hands squeezing around his arms. 

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart,” he breathes, pushing his hips forward in a swift motion to bury himself inside you entirely. 

You cry out, nails digging into the flesh of his arms again. “Oh, fuck.”

He leans down to capture your mouth in his, kissing you languidly as his hips meet yours. You inadvertently grab at his dog tags, keeping him close even when he pulls apart. Forehead to forehead, he hisses again, your tight heat enveloping him sweetly. Your legs come up around his waist to trap him there, to make sure he doesn’t back away and torture you further, but you realize he still wants to hear you when he remains situated inside of you, unmoving.

“You want it?” he asks.

“Yes,” you gasp, hips sputtering. An attempt to feel him move. “So bad.”

He moves slightly, eliciting a little happy sigh from you. Your body feels frozen from his relaxed, unhurried pace, and anything, any movement, feels like a burst of flames inside of you. 

It sparks a restless urge in you, and you suddenly remember his demand to know your every want. How that alone will fulfill you.

“Need you to cum inside me,” you blurt out, strained and shaky, back arching off the bed.

Maverick moans, your words edging him on, and he responds with a sharp slam of his hips. 

That does it, and he can hardly hold back anymore. Sudden hard thrusts take you by surprise, your heels digging into his lower back as he makes it his mission to give you what you’ve asked for.

You cry out again, and more and more as he fucks into you with the fervor he’d been holding back all along. He’s got his own limits, after all. 

He leans down entirely at one point, off his palms and onto his forearms instead to cup your head in his arms and kiss you. His mouth is sweet against yours, tongue prying at your lips to slip inside. His tongue against yours only adds to the overwhelming parcel of sensations coursing through your body. 

When he feels himself close to the edge, he grunts against your mouth. “Where?” he pants. “Where do you want it?”

He knows. He just wants to hear you say it again.

You whine, loud and unstable. “Nngh—inside,” you wail. “Please.”

Maverick’s sounds get stuck in his throat, and the sight of his flushed, dazed face pushes you over. It’s when he cums too that a string of repeated moans and whines spill next to your ear, intensifying your orgasm. It’s shaky and feels incredibly overdue, your body releasing tons and tons of tension from the torturous prolongment. 

Your throat almost feels dry from having begged and cried for him, but the glowy aftermath leaves you content. 

Maverick eventually pulls out, his release dripping out of you. He takes a 2 minute breather, collapsed beside you with an arm thrown over your waist, and then gets up to clean you up. 

You smile warmly. You love both sides of him.