#although gold would like to be

[ratsoh-writes]

I don't think Mirla is considered a friend, lol. More like free bug repelent

Oh to the brothel yea lol. They aren’t attached to her

[theonewhowails]

Golden Fleece

[million-golden-drachmas]

𝖯𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗅 𝖡𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗈 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 by @percy-and-rachel-events (late entry)🔸 "She looked like a million golden drachmas"

Remember when Percy surprisingly memorized Rachel’s phone number? Let's just say that he was also surprised when he caught himself replaying the view when Rachel looked like a million golden drachmas in his head. 

We arranged a meeting in Times Square. We found Rachel Elizabeth Dare in front of the Marriott Marquis, and she was completely painted gold. I mean, her face, her hair, her clothes—everything. She looked like she’d been touched by King Midas.

- Percy Jackson and The Olympians, The Battle of the Labyrinth

Percy sometimes came to the front of Marriot Marquis to see Rachel, painted gold, standing still like a statue as a form of art, and collecting donations at the same time. He remembered the first time he saw her in such a state, he thought it was weird to see her in gold, she looked like a statue of a famous person or an actress. 

Then in the next summer, Rachel and Percy drove around the stretch of beach on the South Shore. On a such hot August day, Rachel wore a white blouse over her swimsuit and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. Percy had never seen her like that and he just spontaneously thought that she looked like a million golden drachmas…

Maybe he told himself it was weird to see Rachel in gold for the first time, but perhaps unconsciously he was impressed. It must’ve been so remarkable that he instantly thought of her looking like a million golden drachmas when he saw her being pretty.

[wikitpowers]

i really don't care if this is an unpopular opinion - but i wanted lucie and matthew to end up together so freaking badly :'))

artist: @camisala01-art

[jay-wasreblogging]

Sherlock looking at Mr Lee laughing a bit too hard at John's dad joke

(Definitely was thinking of the best way to strangle him)

[sysig]

VUX versions! (Patreon)

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Hello you coffee addict. I hope you are caffeinated enough for this ask: If you could only have coffee one way for the rest of your life, what would it be? (No adjustments can be made, such as adding sugar and/or milk to black coffee) 😈😈😈

Hello you non coffee drinker weirdo. How do you even survive in this crazy world???

Anyway, to your question. I never add sugar to any hot drinks so that wouldn't be a problem. The milk though. You know what? Espresso is the right answer. I could have milk with my tea in the morning instead of coffee and espresso is what I drink most throughout the day anyway. Definitely espresso.

There you go. Problem solved.

[lhrry]

x

[one-half-guy]

I don't know how well you know SA1, but consider: Twinkle Park's rule of "cute couples get in free" with Silver and Espio plus Blaze and Gold👀 (they ended up on a double date and none of them know how that happened lmao)

I had to look up to see what Twinkle Park is like because I legit didn't remember gosh, I am so rusty

At first glance, bomb-throwing robots and spiky balls aside, Twinkle Park is pretty much like a real life amusement park: there's a rollercoaster, a hall of mirrors, bumper cars, a carousel, etc... Buuuut then you realize they are a little... Hmmmmm... Deadly radical. They're a little deadly radical: the bumper cars descent slide will surely be with the car a meter above the floor, the access to the rollercoaster is a bit complicated, the hall of mirrors is full of traps, KAKAKAKAAK, plus, there are badniks and spiky balls in almost every corner of that park AKAKAKAKAKAKA

I mean, that does seem the standart judging by the fact it is just there amid Station Square and by the other carnival stages, like in Sonic Rush and Advance (although it's hard to say if those were or weren't created by Eggman)

That taken into account, Espio, Silver and Blaze probably would be very chill and enjoy the park, I bet Silver would be even the most excited with the presence of badniks as the challenge in destroying them, but poor Gold would panick for sure, the regret for falling to the bait until they get her to the only calm ride, the carousel... Which is also surrounded by big spiky balls 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 the girl can't take a break, she is never falling for this bait again 🤣🤣 In a second thought Blaze's not chill as her girlfriend is not chill, she's full focused in protec her

For how it happened though, for Espilver case I imagine it's possible that a day, after they finish a case around Station Square, they come around the entrance to the park and Espio considers it could be a nice activity to do with his lover, especially if it's free to cute couples, aka them, Silver just shrugged and agreed with a "why not?" CUT to him have fun galore destroying some bomb-throwing robots

For Goldaze it's harder... Maybe Gold heard of the place through Amy and managed to convince Blaze in a free day (She then swears the next time she's gonna put more thought before take Amy's suggestions... She doesn't, no shenanigan is enough) or maybe it was one of that one in a million cases and Gold was lucky to meet Blaze exactly there... Anyway, if that's their very first date, or one of their first dates, bet Espio and Silver are gonna make help them to find a ride they both can enjoy nothing less than their main goal (what is a hard mission... Even harder with badniks and spiky balls almost everywhere).

[ziel-soundwave]

@needlenxggin​

Even as he’s running, Refrain’s voice is exasperated at best, his pendulum of a scarf waving behind him. “Is it normal for you to be shot at like this?” 

Deja-vu, much? The android wants to pretend he, himself, isn’t used to the idea, but that would very much be a lie. He’d only just wanted to assist the man very clearly fleeing from gunfire, but... hadn’t really intended that he would be added to the line-up of target practice. His brother would say that’s what he gets for being nice to a stranger.

“Please tell me you know a place to hide around here, man.”

[brieflyinfatuated]

Saw the pilot ep of Gold Diggers- no regrets

@mortofeloquence have u seen this? No idea if it's ur thing but would be v interested in ur thoughts

[vogelmeister]

me: ok, so like, how are we going to show that Anne-Fleur is discarding these letters Merel wrote her

me to me: light the letters on fire

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐈𝐈𝐈. Different energies used in Khaenri'ahn technology.

Last post for tonight, pinky promise (I need to go to sneep so I wake up earlier tomorrow to revise for the partial 😔). But I find interesting that it's suggested that Void began to be used as a source of energy in Khaenri'ah relatively recently, as until that point they were using Ley Lines and stopped using them upon finding out that the abyssal sources are more convenient (I'm sure that there is also a different backdrop to it which is this desire to control the Abyss, thus they would topple the gods as per Chlothar's words). At the same time, it's also nice to see that there were people involved in the abyssal energy usage who seemed to be timid in voicing out their concerns about using it.

[autumnoakes]

i'm lowkey excited for the next 3D zelda game because i want to see where they go AFTER botw. will they keep some elements of the open world? will they include aspects of environmental storytelling? what will they do? i'm excited to see it

[diorkittys]

somethin’ sweet before i go ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ vi + fem!reader

synopsis : when your arrest turns out to be an attractive, arrogant zaunite who’s, obviously, had a bad night, there’s one thing she asks for before being turned in. c’mon, can’t you give her something sweet before handing her to a cold cell?

—TW : kinda hate fucking , fingering , dom!vi , afab , post jinx attack

“hey, princess, any chance you’re sweet enough to loosen these up a bit?” your pinkette prisoner grunts, rolling a kink out her neck.

your expression is nothing short of unimpressed for the taunting games your newest problem has come up with. glaring up from your paperwork, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, “quit with the pet names—do you find your situation funny?” you turn around to face the arrogant zaunite, cuffed hands extended behind her back. you found it rather annoying how nonchalant she was—or worst, she found this amusing. “you are being detained for assault,” you continue, “that’s a night in jail, ‘sweet stuff.’” mocking her previous taunt.

she just scoffed, but it was far from being insulted. a sly smirk and dangerous blue eyes peaking beneath cherry strands looked up at you.

“ya’ think i’m sweet, princess?”

you hear the familiar clanking of metal rubbing against each other, bringing attention to her restraints.

“undo the cuffs and i’ll treat you sweet all nigh-“ her prurient statement cut off by the force of your forearm knocking into her chest, subsequently shoving her against the wall.

“you forget yourself, trencher,” your arm jabs in the smug, although rather charming (and quite attractive), outlaw’s chest, and her eye twitches in a wince. “you’re in my territory now—it’d suit you well to not make a fool of me; i’m sure you’ve been taught the same in that… mess of a city across the bridge.”

your tongue held venom as you almost seemingly spat out the insult like it was truly sickening to speak of. there’s an unspoken challenge being held between the both of your glares. you tack on a huff from your flared nostrils to seal the conversation and to warn the zaunite in front of you from talking back.

but as the tense silence subsides, the cherry-haired woman draws out a teasing smirk, scoffing again, “ever been to the undercity, sweet-cheeks?”

her question seemed more rhetorical than anything. you didn’t answer, clenching your jaw, keeping your eyes fixated on hers as to not give a look of submission. she took your quietness as a ‘no’ and raised a brow,

“thought so.”

she leaned her head in closer, as close as your arm would allow—although, there wasn’t much distance to set you apart anyways. her eyes lidded now as your confidence wavered from the almost predatory air hung around her; like when a lion, hidden in the tall grass, gets a perfect angle of their prey.

“they’d eat that pretty, little ass up as soon as you stepped foot beyond that bridge.”

you gasped, quietly, eyes widened at her obscene words. you could already feel your body betraying you, blood involuntarily heating up the plump of your cheeks.

the arm held sturdy against your prisoner was now weak, a second thought; not to her, no, that was accordingly.

calloused hands snaked their way to your waist, armored with enforcer gold, a symbol of integrity to wear, resolute.

your eyes flicked to the (god, she is attractive) woman near inches away; you were trapped in a lion’s den, she was already staring back at you.

“how di—when did you…”

so much for standing your ground—your stuttering voice gave it all away.

“what? get those things off?” she chuckled, motioning back behind her, “you were right ‘bout one thing, princess: i learned a whole deal in that ‘mess of a city’.”

she near whispered your quote, not hushed, but emphasized, troublingly so. her hands wandered, dangerously, coming to settle at the plush of your hips, hips that had you bent atop her. a deft thumb pushed pass your attire and gently circled into your bare skin.

“are you… are you gonna hurt me?” you pressed your lips in a fine line, apprehensively awaiting a dreaded answer.

but to your surprise, she paused, then snorted, and in a quick motion, she manhandled you to sit on her lap. you yelped in shock, your hands were rigid against her chest that you were so very close to now; stiff as a board as you feared for the worst.

“can’t a girl want somethin’ sweet before you send me to a cold, hard cell, huh?” now the finger in charge of exploring your supple skin came to swipe at your plush bottom lip. “but if you want it to hurt i can make that happen too.” her voice was sultry, thick with an insatiable desire.

your proximity gave you a chance to see the small initial tattooed on her cheek, “vi.” you spoke out loud, really only for you to memorize.

vi smirked, “yeah, princess? don’t wear it out just yet.”

your brows furrowed, pursing your lips; you tried to move, but vi had a firm hold on your hips that just wouldn’t let up… (not that you even tried that hard). “piltover station will be here soon… we can’t—i can’t be seen like this; this is unprofessional.”

“when’d you make that call?” honestly, vi was barely listening to your reluctance and excuses, busying herself with unfastening your gold belt that you hardly even noticed.

“an hour ago.”

“then we have an hour to ourselves. c’mon, do you really think ‘proper piltover station’ is any more worried about a call for an undercity scum than the rest of the hundred they receive a day? they’re preoccupied with the councilors after that attack… seems to me like they left you out the loop, hot stuff.”

you took offense to her insulting jab at your importance, disregarding her sing-song mockery of addressing piltover station. you reached for her wrist that was unbuttoning the blue fabric of your enforcer two-split skirt, “what is that supposed to mean?”

she took no notice to your grip and pushed aside the outer garment, glancing back up at you through that addictive, crimson hair. she gave a dry smirk, “didn’t mean to rile you up, princess—just meant that i could treat you better than them.”

that betraying flush tickled your cheeks once again, and you, rather hesitantly, let way of your grasp, allowing her to do what she needs.

she snorted, in an amused manner, tapping your thigh, “sit up.” how shameful it was for you, an enforcer, to take commands from anyone else—let alone an… undersider. yet, here you were, standing upright as she told you to, albeit a little more eager than intended; you hoped she hadn’t noticed.

she noticed.

her legs spread out on the chair, making her appear even larger than her stature gave her credit for. she bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she pulled at the hem of your khaki shorts. you assisted and looped two thumbs at the waistband to shimmy down your legs. your shorts pooled at your feet and vi leaned back to admire the sexy sight she had in front of her with a grin on her face.

a pretty enforcer, nervous as can be, with a half-undone uniform and pink, lace panties exposed just for her. what a contrasting view. you were captivating. already trained to take orders like a puppy, she’d think in her crude mind; you’d be her good girl for a while, you’d be so good for her.

with two fingers, she motioned for you to come sit back down on her lap; the way her legs manspread was inviting enough. you obliged, holding onto her broad shoulders.

those engrossing fingers came back to handle your hips, slowly moving to cup the mound of your ass and kneading. you huffed, painted nails digging into her trapezius.

“ya’ like pink, princess?” she mentioned your cute, lacey panties; although, now stained a darker shade.

your eyes flickered up to her hair before timidly searching anywhere else to keep your focus busy. vi found that cute, not admitting that that turned her on way more than it should.

“i don’t disdain it.” you purse your lips, “and quit calling me that.”

vi chuckled, “but you’re poised, like a princess.”

“you have no idea of me.”

“well, i know you’re risking your title just so i can get you off,” fingers go to trace the hem of your panties, her middle drags along your clit muffled by the fabric. she grins, “and by the looks of it, you’re enjoying the thrill.”

you gasp at the sensation, a feeling your pussy was aching for. “is it because you know we might get caught? geez, princess, you into that kind of thing?” she almost laughs at you, but not to mock you; she finds that hot as fuck.

adept hands push the annoying polyester to the side. fingers, rather spider-like, creep over your throbbing cunt; middle and index gather your pooling slick to act as lube as she glides over your clit.

you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you find your legs begin to tremble, being forced open by her own, keeping you spread for her to do as she likes.

“i didn’t know topsiders could be so dirty.” this time she does laugh. she rubs at your clit long enough for your heart rate to pick up, long enough for your head to find stability on her shoulder, long enough for you to become a mess in her hands… but, not long enough for you to get off just yet.

vi reaches down to your neglected hole, pressing her index atop it, deep enough for an audible squelch to echo through your office, which in turn makes vi groan. you mewl, nails digging deeper into the muscle of her back.

“not so poised now, though.” she mutters, mostly to herself. with your dripping slick, it takes nothing more than a swift movement for vi to slide her index inside you, bottoming out knuckles deep. you keen, arching off her chest. the scratch from her bandages only added fuel to the fire.

“fuck.” vi’s grip on your hip strengthens, almost certainly leaving a prominent bruise later. “do that for me again, princess.”

and she didn’t have to ask because as she pulls her finger almost fully out, tantalizingly slow, she greedily shoves it right back in, curling the tip of it to hit in that, god, that perfect spot you know so well.

and, again, you keen, long and guttural—like a silent scream. subconsciously, your pelvis bucks into her hand, searching for more than you could even take.

after a few minutes of this, vi deems herself your voice and determines you’re ready for two. she pulls out entirely, much to your dismay, teasing you with a pause.

you brace yourself for something that never comes, and you huff, slightly pushing yourself up off her shoulder,

“vi… don’t st—“

and she stuffs her middle and index into your pretty, impatient pussy.

“ah!”

“who said i was stopping, pumpkin? we just started.” you slam your head back to its assigned spot.

vi thought she was right in this moment: you looked a complete and utter mess. it was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, it was another thing that she had a topsider, an officer—someone who, to piltover, was a woman of dignity and honor… a rich, privileged somebody who hated zaunites, found them filthy and worthless…hunched over her shoulder with a sopping cunt you were practically begging her to abuse. now that’s ironic. (and was you coming undone for her maybe a little bit of a victory for her hatred of topside, that she was degrading—fucking someone so noble?)

“shit, baby,” vi cursed, biting her lip. her whole train of thought did nothing but make her more horny, and she pumped extra hard this time, making sure even the graze of her knuckle filled you up.

“when’s the last time someone’s fucked you like this?” she chuckled—you hated her smug little laugh.

you sneered, just not before you moaned into the crook of her neck, breath fanning over her black-inked tattoos. “that’s, fuck, none of your concern, underside.” you spat, but, really, your words held no weight, not like this.

“hey, no need for the name calling, princess; if you’re a virgin too that’s totally fine—honestly kinda hot.” she teased, grabbing the mound of your ass to raise you up and slam back down on her fingers. you cried, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in that (rememberable) cherry hair.

“i’m not!—i’ve had—ugh! i’ve done this plenty of times… not that, ah, you should need to know.”

“oh yeah? you fuck a lot of your inmates then?… or is that just my privilege?” vi leaned into your ear, knowing that’d get you going. and what do you know? it did.

and you would’ve argued back, head picked up and everything, had she not curled her fingers the way she did or twist to find an ever better playing field or, god! even the lechery in her voice had you toppling over, had you right there! yes, fuck, right there!

“fuck, vi, right there! keep going! yeah, right there, ugh!” you moaned, legs shaking, trying desperately to close and hide away from how fucking good this felt.

you bucked into her hand and you didn’t have to tell vi twice because she was already pumping extra hard and faster than before, with a combination of her thumb rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

“shit, princess. almost there?” she already knew the answer. she was groaning as if she was fucking herself; just the pure sight of you, of this, was enough… although, she’d need to engrave this memory into her brain and use it later to get off herself (she could use this picture of you to get off for years it felt like).

“vi!”

you sang like gospel, pulling her hair like you’d fall if you hadn’t. you came hard, right on her bandaged fingers and she road you through it until the only thing you could hear in the room was the lewd, wet noises coming from your hole.

she stuffed you full of your own juices and at that point, you couldn’t tell if that or her hands were more filling.

you were both panting, one more than the other. vi hoisted your left leg over hers to hold you bridal style as you settled down. bringing her hand to the light, she pulled apart her middle and index to watch your slick web between them and she weakly laughed.

blue eyes looked over to the gold, industrial clock you had sitting on your work-desk, reading a quarter til’ 12. she sighed, picking you up with her before setting you on the chair you had originally handcuffed her to.

“looks like i gotta go, princess.” she feigned innocent, as if this whole interaction was a drive by. one by one she picked up discarded clothing and crouched at your legs to dress you back up. you, too tired to protest to being treated like a child, let her dress you like a doll, even buckling up your belt.

you watched as she went to write something on a piece of sticky note paper you had sitting by your confidential files before turning to walk out the door, running a hand through her hair.

“you can’t leave—you’re… you’re under arrest.” there was no confidence in your tone, just a fucked out raspy voice.

vi stopped before leaving, hands in her pockets, “tell ‘em officer kiramann already came to pick me up, they won’t give you trouble.” she threw the hood of her red jacket over her head, reaching for the doorknob.

“oh, and… meet me at my place if you wanna do this again… okay, princess?”