#also not as kinky as it could be

[mewniemoon]

Coming back from thy break with an ookie spookie eye straining Narinder :)

color palette used:

[tumfullofblue]

Hot Take but Tron Universe (and in summary, the Grid) is kinky af. What. What do you mean we all have to wear skin tight suits, no matter our age or physical form? What do you mean everything is neon and dark and sexy? What do you mean the whole place is run by the younger version of a man who looks like a Greek God and has the pride that could make the sin of the same name blush?

This needs to be studied or at least written fanfiction about and by God, I will do my part.

[kwillow]

Started this back in February when it was more topical but... I suppose no time is a good time for romance as far as Theo is concerned.

[atlas-dr0wned]

zag puts this up above the entrance to his bedroom and poor nyx has to stand under it

[tea-stained]

cmonnnnn melone and cioccolata could have so much chemistry

(haha get it)

i rlly imagine melone mightve viewed cioccolata as a role model (?) in terms of the way he is simply alive

a person's worldview always seeps into their writing, whether it's conscious or not; and that's exactly what melone can read into

perceive the perception, forcing his way into understanding the way their thoughts work

and so, having read cioccolata's medical books (which, there's the /Cioccolata's Operative Orthopaedics/ in live action thus spoke kishibe rohan, implying that his name was well-known in the world of medicine and also possibly more books written by [my beloved] Mold Monarch themself) he definitely realised his view on a human life, seeing it as nothing more than a tool and a plaything, body serving as a vessel to be studied by taking it apart and putting it back, with the amused curiosity of a child /observing/ insects

and he must've been just as inspired as intrigued by this man with an approach so passionately frigid towards humans

because both of them are essentially the most selfish characters in the series, their eyes set on nothing other than their own gain and entertainment

of course, cioccolata has secco and melone is with la squadra

even so, there is a clear lack of remorse towards anyone they encounter. it's quite the opposite, actually, seeing as melone is genuinely ecstatic about murdering that woman on the train

such an interesting character, with the power to /create [an artificial] life/ that brings death and destruction. and mold is alive too

both of them, at their core, consume to grow, devouring whatever crosses their paths with slight exceptions

i want to see these fucked up freaks interact so bad, because no matter what, they are just so similar at the core. but just because diavolo decided to not respect the assassin team, because sorbet and gelato decided to investigate him, because it was cioccolata and secco who guaranteed their gruesome deaths and decided to brag about it, they will never interact normally

because cioccolata was in the more favourable position

there is absolutely no way melone hasn't at least heard about cioccolata once. there is absolutely no way he wasn't intrigued by him in the slightest

i want to see him finally meeting the man whose books he'd been reading while studying the human bodies, imagining what he might look or sound like, and trying to come up with a way to get him to bare his fangs and showcase the true monstrosity hidden underneath a pristine white coat, to peel back the layers of deception and witness cioccolata with no holdbacks, see if there's a way to outwit this grotesque, heinous man

i want to see cioccolata understand perfectly just what is happening, teasing melone with whatever knowledge he might hope to claim for himself by unveiling only the vaguest snippets, knowing that every word he says will be taken in and taken apart, until it creates a coherent form with everything else melone has noticed.

i want to see the moment cioccolata realises just how twisted and dark melone's mind is, too; that he is a threat with unknown intentions

i want to see them learn each other, more intrigued with every word they exchange

i want to see them learn how they think and act accordingly, in a neverending pursuit of a deeply rooted desire to understand the man who is facing them, with melone's perfect ability to read one's body's history and cioccolata's godlike need to understand humans beyond their souls and bodies

i want to see them explore one another, cautiously getting closer, craving one another more and more, still weary regardless, having never encountered a man so much like their own selves, so much so that the sheer thought of an understanding this deep is beyond their plane of reasoning, being able of viewing themselves as the /superior/ ones, but never quite reaching it

i want to see them slowly fall for one another so deeply they almost seem like what they set out to do in the first place, the lingering desire to either run away while they still can, or cut the other one open, admiring the way their face contorts in horror, betrayal, suffering

[captainjimothy]

favorite stage of qunt hatesex has to be when they've been hooking up long enough that the hate has started to phase out and it's just kinda regular sex atp, and they're both aware of this, and they're both absolutely fuming about it. i may be kissing your ears but i am NOT your friend and i will DIE on that hill

[goldfinwrites]

Nonacearo week prompt 3: Handling a romantic confession

James weeded the garden, dirt smeared along the borrowed gardening gloves he wore, kneeling on the soft grass beneath the spring sky. His trowel delicately dug around in the soil, loosening the unwanted plants. Carefully, he tossed aside an intruder near the bupleurum rotundifolium, which were dotted with small blooms. The flowerbeds had not been not poorly maintained when he first found them, but he thought they must have been the work of Harold Anderson rather than any hired hands.

“Can I help?” Mika’s voice came from behind him, and he turned, then stood slowly, stretching out the stiffness from staying in place for so long.

“Of course, miss.” James offered a polite smile. “The watering can is just over there.” With his full hand, he gestured towards the ladder, closed and leaning on the storage shed.

“Great!” She made her way over, stepping over the collection of discarded weeds, before coming back, holding the can with both hands. “Here it is!”

“I’m nearly done with the weeding, which should be the last of the tasks before watering for today.” Lowering himself again, he lifted a few dangling leaves to look under them. In comfortable silence, he returned to clearing out the flowerbed.

He enjoyed caring for the flowers, he had found out from his time in the human world. Their velvety petals and scent were astonishingly fragile, something drastically different from the Abyssal Plains, and they reminded him that he was now free from his earlier life. They were colorful and incredibly varied, and the study’s collection on flora had shown him many different plants he could try to cultivate in the future. Perhaps once he found a sufficient permanent home for him and his brothers, he could indulge and stop by a gardening store.

His meditative musing was interrupted by Mika, who asked, “Since you’ve been here a while, do you have a favorite in the garden?”

Discarding the last removed weed, he rose to his feet and looked over the blooms. “I’m quite fond of the calendula officinalis; I enjoy their vibrancy.” They also seemed simple to grow, based on the gardening books he had read, so he felt comfortable maintaining them.

“Which one are those?”

James inclined his head towards the left of his workspace. “They’re the orange ones.” He faced Mika, who had sat down on the grass, knees folded in front of her body.

“Oh, they’re pretty!”

James smiled, a true one, his eyes soft and voice warm with delight. “They’re quite beautiful.”

Mika’s eyes flicked from the flowers back towards him, looking over him, and James instinctively felt himself straighten, his relaxed slip-up replaced by cordial distance. As kind as she had been to them, James struggled to trust her, with decades of political maneuvering and war having made him exceedingly cautious.

“Would you like to water the plants while I dispose of the weeds, miss?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure!” Mika hopped up from her seat, grabbing the watering can and making her way towards the flowerbeds.

James watched her as he picked up the pile he had created and was pleased as she watered the soil and roots rather than pouring over the leaves. He had shown her how to properly care for the garden before and seeing his lessons in action felt satisfying. Another experience he could chalk up to the human world, he noted. He threw the weeds into the exterior bin, not wanting to sort the viable ones for composting at the moment. Returning to Mika, he let her finish the task, waiting until she was done before comment.

“Nice work,” he opened his hand for the watering can, which she passed over to him. “I’ll return the equipment to the storage shed, so-”

“I’ll come with you!” Mika nearly tripped over her words, reminding him a bit of an overexcited Matthew.

“…As you wish.” Picking up the gardening tools, he piled them within his arms before walking towards the shed.

Mika dashed ahead and opened the door, which swung inwards, and she awkwardly held it open for him.

“Thank you, miss.” James stepped into the shed, which always smelled faintly of dust and wood, no matter how diligently he cleaned it. He meticulously began to place everything in its proper place, adhering to the order he had first found them in. The trowel hung on the hook, the gloves went in the cubbyhole…

Having organized appropriately, James briefly admired his handiwork before exiting, not wanting to leave Mika at the door. He placed his hand on the door, and she moved away, allowing him to close it behind him. He fished the shed lock out from his pocket.

“I, uh…” Mika’s voice was a bit timid, but she pressed on. “I came looking for you, actually, since I wanted to talk about something.”

James’s eyes slid over to her as he held the lock in his head. “With me?” His voice was as diplomatic as ever, hiding the knot that formed in his stomach at the words. He pressed his worries down, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Yeah,” she let out a small, nervous laugh, “I’ve been thinking a lot and…”

James felt tense, the gaps between her words only furthering the alarm bells in his head. Had one of his brothers accidentally done something to offend her? Or perhaps she was dissatisfied with him? He had tried to minimize the times he fed off her, keeping himself restrained to kissing when he was feeling particularly needy, but providing for multiple incubi could have proven to be too demanding.

“I like you.” Mika finished, threading her fingers and fiddling nervously.

“Pardon?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the statement caught him off guard. She… liked him? Though mildly reassuring, he wasn’t particularly sure how it related to her jittery behavior. Quickly, he flipped through his knowledge of humans, realizing he must be missing something.

“I like you.”

Liking, friendship, affection… He sorted through topics, trying to piece together what implication he was failing to grasp. Suddenly, it came in a flash. Love and Romance: A study of intimacy. He had read the book a while ago, attempting to improve his cultural understanding of humans as well as academic, and it had covered the use of word “like” to indicate romantic interest, among other meanings.

He opened the lock, hands shaking slightly, as he looked away from her. “Miss,” he started, then clamped his mouth shut, unsure of how he wanted to reply. Did he want to reject her? He knew he, like all demons, lacked love as humans conceptualized it, and would be unable to reciprocate her feelings. But what would it mean if he refused her? A current of fear passed over him as he reviewed the possible consequences. Would he still be allowed to stay in her home? Would his brothers? The only other person he could think of that could help him was Kay, the strange witch Harold had procured their human identities from, but he wasn’t sure how to contact her.

The silence stretched uncomfortably, and James realized he needed to say something. Forcing his voice to be level, he clicked the lock onto the door as he spoke, “I would like to make sure I adequately understand your statement.” Formality was his refuge as he desperately hid his panic from her, hoping the slight waver in his voice went unnoticed. “Do you mean in a general sense or romantically?”

“Romantically.”

Her voice was clear this time. Perhaps opening the discussion had resolved her, much like ‘ripping the bandaid off’, as he had heard her say once. Unfortunately, though she seemed less nervous, his worry had skyrocketed. He knew he could likely figure out how to take care of himself alone, but if this affected his brothers, he was unsure he could manage; finding one person who agreed to house five demons was an incredible stroke of luck, one he was not sure would happen again.  

Dishonesty was an option, but he doubted his ability to perform his role properly. Acting had always been Erik’s specialty, not his, and the gaps in his knowledge felt too large to bridge. He knew little of human relations, of their courtship etiquette, of even intimacy. Attempting to mimic reciprocation may be more likely to hurt Mika than turning her down, and could be seen as a betrayal of her extensive generosity towards him.

“I see.” Despite the warm day, he felt cold, and he swallowed, realizing his mouth was dry. He tried to collect his thoughts, but they slipped out of reach, leaving his mind feeling overcrowded. He felt stuck, with no correct answer for him in sight. James felt his breath sticking in his throat as he spoke.

“Wh…” Why are you telling me this, he wanted to ask, but did dare not to. He cleared his throat, forcing the words back down.

“As I’ve mentioned before,” he finally looked back at her, trying to take in Mika’s expression to adjust if necessary. “demons are different in a few ways compared to humans…”

He stared at her, evaluating. She seemed unsurprised, but was nibbling lightly at her lip, though he wasn’t certain if it was from worry or displeasure. He cautiously continued, “…we understand lust, passion, and care, but love is outside of our emotional range.”

James was gently reiterating their conversation in the study, internally begging her to understand, to accept what he was saying. We don’t really experience love, he had said, but it appeared Mika had not truly grasped what that meant. Or perhaps she did not care, a small, treacherous part of him thought. Searching her face, he saw her blink a few times, and he vainly hoped the wetness was his imagination.

“May I ask�� if you desired a romance?” James asked the question, almost accidentally, but he wanted to comprehend, to ascertain what she wanted from him. And whether he thought he could give it to her.

“I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t think that far ahead.” Mika’s voice was strained, and James knew his statement had upset her. “I just wanted to tell you? To talk about it.”

James felt his heart twist as a slight hum of anger echoed in his head. How shallow, he thought, then crushed it. Mika was young, he reminded himself, even younger than Damien. She had lived less than a quarter of his lifetime; he should prioritize being patient with her. Keeping that thought, he observed her, noting the slump of her shoulders, the way she fixed her gaze on the ground. Hurt, sad, but not angry. A slight rush of relief ran through him; he could manage appeasing dejection. As long as he avoided her ire, it seemed probable he could continue to seek shelter here.

“I’m sorry,” James lied, the words coming easily despite his discomfort. His nature was not shameful, nor a cause of guilt, but he knew that apologies could help smooth things over. He made a note to arrange an outing with Erik at some point; though getting energy from strangers was far more difficult with humans than in the Abyssal Plains, he should try to sate himself outside of the mansion for the time being, as physical affection with Mika may cause further issues.

“It’s…” Mika’s voice was shaky, “It’s okay.” She was also lying, he knew, but her feelings would probably resolve with time. She shifted her feet, then raised her head, but refused to meet his eyes. “I… think I’m going to head to my room for a bit.”

James nodded, though she wouldn’t see it. “Will you be joining us for dinner, or should Damien bring it to your room, miss?” Damien was the smartest choice; his mind reading helped him react quickly and he wouldn’t say anything uncalled for as a result.

“Oh, um,” she took a second to process the question, her shoulders trembling faintly. “Damien, please.”

“I understand.”

“Thanks,” Mika’s breath was shaky, but she choked out “See you later,” before walking back towards the mansion.

James exhaled and closed his eyes once she had left. See you later, she had said, and that meant they still had a place to reside within. He stiffly headed towards the flowerbeds, sitting in front of them. Gently, he reached out towards the orange blooms, barely touching the petals, He would head inside after a few minutes, but he wanted to make sure his earlier anxiety had faded before preparing dinner, as Erik could be highly perceptive when he felt the desire to be. Admiring the flowers, he considered adding others to the bed, remembering a few from the illustrated guide he had found, which he had taken to his room rather than shelving back in the library. Tulipa turkestanica would be nice…

He eventually rose from the garden, returning to the Anderson manor. He wanted to see his brothers, to have a nice dinner with them as they were never able to in the Abyssal Plains. The human world may have its own difficulties, but being able to truly spend time with them was invaluable. Fleeing his home was worth it, without question, for his brothers to be safe, away from slaughter, their father, and the painful memories that haunted them. James felt immense gratitude towards the Anderson family for the help they had provided, enough that it could overwhelm him, for allowing him the chance to build a home. Tonight, he would indulge his family, he promised, perhaps even participate in that digital game with the small vehicles Matthew had been trying to convince them to play. James smiled as he entered the kitchen, putting the earlier conversation out of his mind. To care so deeply, so openly for the meaningful people in his life was such a great source of joy that he could never sacrifice again. Come devil or succubus, James would hold onto this present and future with every fiber of his being.

[frogmood]

i’m one of those mfs who watches the phantom menace and is like “i want more political intrigue and trade law discussions between minor characters. this movies going too fast”

[whimperaudioconnoisseur]

me when i’m domming

[rouge-the-bat]

i never get people that always headcanon characters (or make ocs) as the same identities. like i can get having common ones you give characters, but if u just Actually make them all the same, how is that not... super boring ?? do you not find inherent interest and joy in the vast experiences of identity and how they can come through in different characters???

[voreoborous]

Doing some silly kobold/dragon world building based on sequential hermaphroditism, except instead of sex it's just how dragony you are, except that's also kind of a gender :)

Draconids in the middle of their transformations are basically undergoing a second puberty (the first being when their kobold state sexually matures, about the same time human kids go through puberty), and have a lot of puberty associated symptoms, such as voracious hunger, skin/scale problems, growing pains, and bouts of really intense horniness. It's advised that draconids going through their dragon-puberty sleep lots, eat lots, and get plenty of exercise.

Some draconids don't want their bodies to change so dramatically, so medical solutions have been devised to halt the transformation. After a few months of HRT, the initial wave of hormones will wear off and the kobold stays a kobold.

Also, it doesn't just get triggered by break-ups. Death, taking a vacation away from a partner for a couple weeks, a new relationship, or sometimes even other transformations in their social circles have all been known to trigger dragonification, if a precise cause is ever found at all. On top of that, some draconids skip the adult kobold stage entirely and morph straight into dragons, but this is pretty rare. Hormone therapy can also be used in these cases if they decide they want to become kobolds instead.

There's also treatments to go from dragon back to kobold. This is much harder on the body than the other way around, but determined draconids can make it work.

(The actual sexes of the dragons and kobolds are usually irrelevant.)

While this relationship is the "normal"/socially enforced way to go about things, plenty of different arrangements exist, each with varying levels of acceptability. For example, a single kobold with a single dragon is not the ideal, but acceptable (if they're looking for more - if they're happy as-is, it's considered strange), whereas two (or more) dragons with no kobold partners are much more maligned. I usually don't enjoy writing fantasy homophobia though so idk how much I'll flesh that out, I'm just rotating hot scalies

[jorjin]

also a lot of fanfic writers are still so entrenched in gender roles they can't for the life of them think of a submissive top either. I think of all fics I've read (which granted, aren't many since I took a dislike to participating in fandoms after some of the neverending discourse), only two managed to do a top submissive and one of them was, quite obviously, describing Gabriel Ultrakill

[scribespirare]

sous chef called me 'bubbly' the other day and my entire body recoiled in disgust still thinking about it tbch

[safftums]

Also also also I'm obsessed with Some Bullshit (absolute gold video game, it's free on itch.io, a must-play if you're into stuffing imo) and I have the most embarrassing fucking crush on Pro even though there's exactly zero fetish content involving him (you can find me thirsting over him on the forum for the game I got it bad)

Anyways he's implied to not really eat very much, and that for my mind absolutely RACING cuz oooouuugggggghhhh what if he forgets to eat all day and he thinks he's perfectly fine until he's leading the party to their next destination when suddenly he leans up against a tree, super dizzy out of nowhere

Emmie and Clara are all "??????" until he winces, places hus hand over his stomach (NOT EVEN COVERED BY HIS ARMOR MIND YOU, LIKEEEE EVEN HIS CHARACTER DESIGN IS BEGGING FOR BELLY KINK SHIT???) and it growls loudddddd

"Neither of you heard that." Followed by muffled laughter from the girls, he tries to push off the tree to get going but he's still woozy, eventually sits down and goes "Well... guess we're taking a rest now."

And then potentially a starving to stuffed scenario if he eats too much to overcompensate ok this is getting too long sorry I'm so normal about him barkbarkbark

-🤡🐠

OH NOOOOOOOOOO LOOK AT ME I PRACTICALLY HAVE A TAIL WAGGING RN AT THIS AHHHHHHH. YESYESYESYESYES!!! SUPER GOOD CONTENT!!! WILL BE PLAYING IMMEDIATELY!!!

[magdalune]

ur sims are darkskinned but their features are completely white 🤨 nothing wrong with that, just wanted to point out that they could've had a skintone suitable for their race

anon, to you, what makes a black person black?

[johnnys-green-pen]

Non-canon ship/crackship ask game: Johnny Gage and Kel Brackett.

Oh lordy.

Potentially a disaster, definitely interesting and vastly underrated; I've read fic about that before, but it was always just PWP, which doesn't live up to the ship's full potential if you ask me.

Anyway.

Johnny and Brackett are pretty similar in a lot of ways (frequently a bit abrasive towards people they don't like or trust, insanely dedicated, clever, prone to getting emotionally involved when they shouldn't, idealistic), but from vastly different backgrounds - and I think Johnny's gonna be a lot more aware of that than Kel.

So there's the obvious - the difference in power and influence and just sheer standard of living that's probably going to be a massively sore spot for Johnny, and Brackett's gonna put his foot in it. Repeatedly. Badly.

Badly enough to sustain several slow-burn will-they-or-won't-they fics if someone feels like it.

Beyond that, I feel like they'd either take great joy in mercilessly ribbing each other, particularly for things they themselves also do (it's the hypocrisy that makes it fun - and makes Dix and Joe roll their eyes so hard it's a wonder they haven't sprained anything yet), or there'd be ample quiet, comforting moments, commiserating about patients and the stupidity of the general public, and the injustice of who lives and dies and the senselessness of it all. Probably both, in turn.

Probably a lot of severely awkward dates, too, as they kind of adjust to each other's standards. Lots of angst on Johnny's side about how do you date a very influential doctor without screwing it up, even before potentially getting into the whole, yknow, 1970's gay ship aspect of it all (especially since I love to ignore THAT whole mess), and Brackett really not seeing the problem or understanding the fuss.

Get them both onto the same page about something though, and it suddenly becomes very clear why they're dating.