#I swear I love rock too

[vip3r-r]

Hi! I noticed you do nsfw, if your comfortable could I request some headcanons of venture in bed IM BRAINROTTING SO MUCH ABT THEM SORRY!!

No because I really thought nobody was going to ask for nsfw and I GOT nsfw request (╥_╥) this was so fun because tell me they wouldn’t be such a dork while in serious situations, I love them so much I’m so sad they aren’t on the game anymore BRING THEM BACK— anywho I hope you like it! Request are still open and I will most likely post some more later after I wake up from a nap

Warnings- bad spelling maybe, didn’t double check and English didn’t my first language, tried my hardest to make it gender neutral! (You can always request if you want it f/m/gn!!)

this could go two ways…

deep in satisfaction, holding you tight or roaming your body feeling with their rough hands, looking down at you with half open eyes, letting out small huffs as they work their magic with your body

or they could be saying the stupidest of jokes or some random facts about rocks while their fingers hit that spot that makes you arch your back.

i feel like venture would love to be behind you, your legs open, their hands playing with you as they smile in satisfaction, hearing you cry and try to close your legs but you can't because they won't let you <3

would love to see you like this when you have their jacket/coat on, something about that makes them go crazy

isn't crazy in bed, more of a softy that wants to please you and occasionally wants it back

after sex, as you lay down relaxing, venture would probably lay rocks on your body while they tell you about how the found it or the history if it

loves to cuddle with you while you two get enough energy to go shower or eat, brings you water or cleans your body if it was a rather harsh session

i feel like they wouldn't dare do it at work (because they love their job) but probably have a sloppy makeout session

venture eat rocks, of course they're gonna bite you… loves to leave them somewhere where only they know, but find it funny to leave one or two where people could see it if you slightly moved your clothes

“oh whats that” venture says moving your sweater out off your neck “pika boo” you tried to fix it but they move it again “i see it” – “found it” – “cant hide it” – “hello there” etc

That’s it for this one!! I kinda ran out of ideas because it’s literally 5am in here and my brain ain’t working in that area of town yet— you are always welcome to ask with a mere detail request!!

[tsukasalover]

saw this and immediately thought of them

[naarinn]

Old ancient unfinished wips yippe. I didn't have the courage to throw em away SxF x Kgrb crossover AU is slowly consuming my brain I wish I could work faster in digital ToT (I'm so sorry Chihiro)

Btw hater Hakuri is canon now lmaoo Twt socmed AU was so fun, ya'll should read it too. NOW <- (It's never late)

[darkyukifr]

They are old and enjoying their life together

At first I wanted to draw them with traditional wedding clothes but then I saw all the embroidery on the gorgeous Algerian costumes AND I’m a lazy person (shame on me)

I absolutely love when writers and artists give them some cultural backgrounds with different clothes, customs, and my favorite one : the focus on the languages bgzieubguzebi I LOVE THAT like it’s so intimate to talk about your mother language and having your loved one learn it because they want to know more about you and where you come from? YES PLEASE

[curtain-caller]

So now that I found out that CNMN has jiggle physics, I've also realized something... People are out here thirsting over Korsica when CNMN'S rocking the ultimate hourglass figure??? He's got the Jessica Rabbit body proportions with a thin waist and big old cinna-tiddies. We need to get our priorities straight and understand that he's clearly got the most sex appeal here.

[devilsrecreation]

[somebluemelodies]

i don’t think we talk enough about the little wriggle Richas does whenever q!Cellbit hugs him like every time i see it i wanna fall over- it’s so cute they mean so much to me-

[ms-spkhd]

thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

[scatterpatter]

Something funny I've noticed about The Megas and The Protomen

[vasattope]

Hey, I'm not dead, I'm just processing One Ok Rock's concerts because I still can't believe how good they are and how lucky I am that I saw them live again 🥹

[nevsclowntown]

not sure if youre still doing the doodle requests but if you are id love more gaalee if youre done! maybe somethin with them on a date! or whatever else comes to mind! -sagemoderocklee

Gaara's not really on the whole dating-train, but Lee loves to consider every second of their lives together as dating. And sometimes the best thing is when Gaara gets very little rest and Lee counts that as the most successful date bc seeing Gaara not frown or be a pest (lovingly) is a win!

@sagemoderocklee

[slytherinshua]

[spinninglightning]

treech th type of guy to listen to one direction and clarity by zedd. n jst the early 2010s music in general. lamina though? definitely into 80s pop, madonna, cyndi lauper, pat benatar- the WORKS

[greasermlm]

I see a forest in your eyes- always changing and full of the most miraculous starlight that's only seen by the most loving sky

[racetrackmybeloved]

i gotta say, i wish we had seen finch actually using his slingshot, instead of just fiddling with it and aiming for dramatic effect. how is it fair that we get crutchie using it but not finch ?? he's got great aim according to his trading card, so let's actually see it please? pull a 92sies spot and yeet rocks at strikebreakers or something please and thank you

its also such a missed opportunity - how are you gonna liken them to david and goliath FOUR TIMES and yet not let the boy with the sling(shot) use it ??

the four times if anyone was wondering (its mostly katherine):

"so i guess you'd say you're a couple of davids looking to take on goliath?" - katherine

"a modern day david is poised to take on the rich and powerful goliath" - katherine

"it's david and goliath, do or die" - katherine, watch what happens

"we'll slay the giant" - ensemble, seize the day

[the-blazing-light]

After 4 years of having him, local war crime cat finally got an update to his outfit