#and give him scritches from me

[canisalbus]

I realize youre probably more of a dog person, but can i offer fuzzy kitty tummy in these trying times?

(Wall-E sends his love <3)

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[wonderlandhour]

TWST AU except General Lilia finds this random like, 8 year old human kid in the woods being raised by a bear and moves into the nearby cottage to help raise him because the bear is doing a decent job but he is human and should wear clothes and know how to speak.

This leads to everything else being mostly the same but Silver is mostly nonverbal, using sign more often than not, and is absolutely fucking feral sometimes. Jack thoroughly enjoys wrestling with Silver and Silver takes a fierce liking to him because of it. Sebek also grew up wrestling with Silver and sometimes to burn some energy, Malleus will also do so with his brother- I mean Silver. Bonus is that Silver likes Malleus's partial dragon form and enjoys grooming him. The purring happy puddle of Dragon is a very good thing.

[nimblermortal]

The more sci fi I read the more pissed off I get about Bujold's uterine replicators. That stuff is not standard in every setting? You have people in Star Trek who are carrying babies to term inside their bodies? What sort of barbaric nonsense is this. It's non-optional? They're not just doing it as some sort of hippie nonsense? Do you have any idea how many health risks there are? What sort of complications? The lasting effect on the body? And you're just. Speculating. That in your highly advanced society. People choose to do this.

It just seems to me that in a reasonable world, uterine replicators would be interesting because of the way their impact on Barrayar is explored.

[solohux]

@chromium-siren submitted: The latest Nube pictures

[gongedtornado]

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[mkstrigidae]

POV: you are me just trying to get some extra sleep on a Sunday morning

[the-kipsabian]

gods perfect banana boy

OH MY GOD HE IS

BANANA BOY!!

[evilwickedme]

Submission of cute animal: My fat little man

[hedgehog-moss]

Welcome to the great donkey contest of 2024

I must confess that I, once again, forgot the date of the yearly donkey contest, so I had to leave early (I had a restaurant reservation in another town) and have no idea what was the jury's verdict on each of these donkeys. Therefore, you are the jury. It will be heartbreaking, but I will ask you to vote at the end of the post, setting aside the known fact that all donkeys are the best donkey.

There were Poitou donkeys, Berry donkeys, Bourbonnais donkeys, Provence donkeys, Andalusian donkeys, and common donkeys who seemed to have no distinguishing features other than being acceptably donkey-shaped. I can't possibly post all my photos, so I have chosen 4 noteworthy contestants (or 3 and half, one is very small) for you to vote on. I'll add that I only stayed long enough to watch 2 donkeys demonstrate their skills, so in a spirit of fairness I will not mention anyone's job. You won't be voting based on how good they are doing their specific donkey job but on how good they are at being a donkey.

Donkey #1 — CHEWBACCA.

Chewbacca is big, and he has ears. These are his most salient characteristics. Each one of his ears looks like a separate fluffy ferret-sized mammal attached to his head, gently twitching or napping. Chewbacca's hooves are the diameter of a medium pizza and he looks very formidable but he is extremely kind. I know the most pressing question is "Can I scritch Chewbacca's ears?" and the answer is yes, but then he will immediately appoint you ear-scritcher in chief and will look very sad when you walk away to meet other donkeys.

Chewbacca's ears on their own could be enough to let him win Hairiest Donkey in any contest—but he is mixed breed, and there were purebred baudets du Poitou in attendance. Their entire identity is "the hairy one", and giving the Hairiest trophy to another donkey would result in massive spread of existentialism among Poitou donkeys.

(He is not a contestant, as I didn't have time to get a good aperçu of his personality.)

(Same for this shiny black donkey, pictured here canoodling with a Poitou lady—unfortunately I don't have photos of him in motion, but believe me when I say he was the glossiest donkey I've ever seen. When walking or trotting he shone in the sun like a freshly-polished dress shoe.)

Back to our contest.

Donkey #2 — UGOLIN.

Ugolin (who seems to go by "Glin") is a shaggy, gangly teenage boy whose main characteristic is being utterly love-starved. Left unattended, Ugolin would wander about the donkey contest, stopping in front of every child or adult he encountered, hoping someone would love him.

I was initially the only human Ugolin did not want cuddles from, because he was scared of Pandolf and seemed to think of me as his minion. Then I tied Pandolf to a tree and crouched down a few metres away from Glin, unsure if I had a chance now—and after hesitating for about 2 seconds he came over to kiss my forehead. My friend was so touched by this moment that she (somehow) got her phone to turn her photo into an impressionist painting.

"Can I scritch Glin's ears?" Yes. He is desperate for someone to pet his ears.

Donkey #3

—no, sorry, it's Ugolin again. It's very hard to get rid of him.

Donkey #3 — THE BABY.

The baby has no name. The baby has no skills. The baby is not good at anything other than being tiny enough to walk under her mum's belly. In the absence of any other qualifications she was happy to show off what is possibly the most low-effort limbo dance in the world.

"Can I scritch the baby's ears?" No. Big point against her, here. She will, however, come over if you say "awww le petit ânon <3" and let you pet her tiny nose. (More nose photos in this post if you missed it)

Donkey #ah no wait here's Ugolin again

He actually overcame his intense fear of Pandolf to come trap us in his forcefield of infinite neediness! I'm proud of him.

Donkey #4 — MYRTILLE.

Myrtille is in her mid-thirties, and did not come to the donkey fair to demonstrate any particular skills or be admired by us, but because she likes to meet new donkeys. She was not tethered to the rope and yet did not wander around to mingle with humans like other untied donkeys did; she shuffled from one end of the rope to the other like a friendly pensioner at a continental breakfast buffet, making small talk with everyone. It was hard to approach Myrtille (as a human) without feeling like a third wheel.

I don't mean to gossip, but she spent quite a while flirting with the glossy black donkey.

I love her. She's my favourite. I was not able to pet her or take a good close-up photo of her but that's okay. Myrtille is like a tempting rollercoaster at an amusement park that you are barred from by the sign that says "You must have ears THIS long to go any farther." I wish her only good things.

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Jason MF Todd:

Your relationship with Jason is, to the outside world, the definition of the word frenemy. In truth, you two absolutely love to rag on each other as a pastime while, y'know, being a couple.

Jason gives as good as he gets and vice versa. You can and have gotten the better of him, though, and all he can do is snort, go, "Holy shit," and try to play it off like he's not fucking dying of laughter. Good one, baby.

You and Jason complaining about how the other takes up space... but that's all you two do. You don't do fuck all to change it, you just complain for the sake of complaining. While all up in each other's space and enjoying it. This usually occurs in the bed or on the couch. ("Did you mean to sleep up under me, Jay?" "Sure did. Get used to it.")

Jason talking maaaad shit about your tastes in TV, music, what have you, but somehow seems to know just as much, if not more, about said things you indulge in. Call him out and he'll call bullshit.

Similarly, you talking cash trash about Jason's "old man" tendencies. Very funny, sweetheart. Drinking your coffee black can be good for you. ("That's not what I'm talking about and you know it, Jason.")

Conversely, also encouraging Jason to rest comfortably in his basic bitch™ era which he claims is nonexistent (embrace the basic bitch within, Jason!) but the way he uses your Stanley cup more often than not says otherwise lmao.

Intimacy (not sex) being one of the deliberately slow and steady aspects of your relationship. Sure, Jason is a very touchy-feely when it's you two by yourselves but affection and vulnerability were two things that took some getting used to, especially on Jaybird's end.

Ironically enough, he's like a fucking cat when he's with you. Affection? Cuddles? Disgusting. Give him more, baby. Scritches on his scalp? Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Side eyes of epic proportions? Don't mind if he does.

Jason being in the doghouse whenever he comes home banged and bruised up. Yeah, baby, he promised he'd be careful but shit. Even though you're mad—it's more anger born of worry—you're always there to help patch him up. He doesn't give a fuck how much pain he's in, he still wants his cuddles, though. ("C'mere...")

Being banned from watching Jason exercise because you always make shit sexual and he's trying to concentrate and not get hard and/or laugh. You fuckin' tease. What the hell would he do without you?

[moonstruckme]

Hellooooo

Mae, could you maybe (absolutely no pressure or anything!!!) write something with Vampire!james x reader when he once again feeds from her and actually takes too much or so? Not like so much that it’s really bad or so but like too much, you know?

I haven’t thought about it a lot so I’m sorry that it’s so incomplete. The rest is yours to decide (as always)

(Sorry that my request is so messy, it’s the middle of the night for me)

Wasn't messy at all gorgeous! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: blood, lightheadedness/near fainting

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 682 words

You don’t notice it happening. You suppose that’s probably by design—vampires are supposed to drain their victims, after all, and that biology doesn’t account for your gentle boyfriend and his willing bloodbag. You’re not cognizant of any change between when your mind feels pleasantly fuzzy and when it starts to slip away from you altogether, dark spots blotting your vision and your bones losing their solidity. James notices, though, when you turn to mush in his hands. 

“Shit.” His voice is garbled by fang and slurred by gluttony, his arms encircling you to better prop you up. You feel a warm droplet of blood trudge down your front as he takes his mouth from you in a hurry. James swears again, wetting the wound to close it. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Are you okay? Can you hear me?” 

You make some somnolent sound of reassurance, but it doesn’t seem to do its job well. James is panicky and upset, trying to calm himself enough to figure out what to do with you. 

“Okay.” He kisses your face, eyes watery. “I’m sorry. You’re okay. Let’s lay down, yeah? Come here.”

You’re not really up for following instructions, but James does the work himself, laying you sideways on the couch and propping your head on a pillow. 

“Stay awake, angel.” He lifts your legs some, holding your ankles in one hand while the other strokes up and down your leg soothingly. “Can you do that for me?” 

You hum. You’re feeling better already. It’s not like usual, where the fuzzy feeling starts to fade as soon as James takes his lips from you, but you’re beginning to feel more solid. “James, m’okay.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, voice hoarse with emotion. “How do you feel? Do you want some water?” 

“I feel better.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Just a little…a little weird. Hey. Jamie.” You cover his hand on your leg with yours. Your boyfriend’s expression looks tormented, his eyes glassy with self-loathing. “It’s okay, lovely. I’m fine, I just need a minute.” 

“I can’t believe I didn’t stop,” he admits in a near whisper. 

“I should have let you know.” 

“How were you supposed to? I was drinking you dry.” His voice thins. James closes his eyes, agonized. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That was dangerous. I could’ve killed you.” 

“You wouldn’t have,” you tell him gently. 

“I could have, I—” 

“James.” You sit up on your elbows. Your boyfriend’s brows bunch concernedly, but your head feels fine. Maybe your protectiveness of James is just more substantial than anything else in you. “You wouldn’t have, baby. Really. I know you’re worried you’re going to lose control or something, but that’s not what happened. We just both let it go a little too far. And when you realized what was happening, you stopped without even thinking about it.” You make your voice firm. “This was just a fluke. It was bound to happen at some point, but you’d never really hurt me. And everything turned out fine, right? Didn’t it?” 

James breathes out. “I don’t know,” he says uncertainly. “Are you fine?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You give him a smile, reaching out your arms. 

James hugs you but doesn’t meet you halfway. He presses you back into the couch instead, his arms wound tight around your middle and stubble scritching against your cheek. 

“You promise you’re okay?” He turns his head to kiss your ear. “Be honest.” 

You rub his back. “I promise. I just needed a minute. It’s normal, you know?”

James sighs, his body sinking into yours. “Nothing about this is normal.” 

“I guess. But I was talking about, like, blood donation. This happens all the time in those cases.” You lie there for a minute, you soothing your palms over his back and him with his arms wrapped around you. “I feel fine to sit up now, by the way.” 

“No way.” James kisses the shell of your ear again. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. I’m never letting you up off this couch again.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hii I love your work!

Could you do a (romantic but.. crush stage) headcanon of Alastor helping the reader and the reader gives him a kiss as a thank you and Alastor is like "what the hell was that?" Reader genuinely feeling bad for kissing him and Alastor says "you should be sorry" but then Alastor starts to constantly help the reader (even more than before) and everyone in the hotel knows what he's doing but reader is dense. Then eventually alastor just bursts into her bedroom shouting "FOR FUCK SAKE WHY WONT YOU KISS ME" (maybe not that but same energy)

Please and thank you :>

I'm just gonna...combine these two...

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being jealous, DOORS, Saucy?

Description: ☝️⬆️

You gave affection freely to those around you, everyone got a hug or a small peck on the cheek

So when you're struggling with something and Alastor helps you out? It's only natural for you to give him a quick kiss on the cheek

It's his reaction to it that makes you think you made a mistake in doing so, his body going stiff and gaze dark

You step back as you start to notice a green haze around him and the glass on his monocle cracking

"Don't you ever do that again, my dear."

"I'm-I'm sorry, Alastor-"

"You should be."

And just like that, he's back to normal, carrying on like nothing had happened and humming a jolly tune

But you still feel so guilty for making him so uncomfortable, that was the last thing you wanted

So you work hard to do better, to respect his boundaries and keep a respectful distance

It's not until later when Alastor has time to think about it that he actually realizes that he kinda enjoyed it

And that he's envious of the others who now freely get to soak up your attention and affection for doing little tasks

Like Husk getting scritches and scratches under his chin because he carried a box for you

Angel getting a warm hug with lots of nuzzling and cooing, all because he used his multiple arms to help you cook

Vaggie sheepishly accepting a thank you kiss because she caught you when you almost took a dive down the stairs

Charlie and Niffty are the worst offenders, always helping you and just eating up your praise and hugs

And now whenever Alastor helps you... you just give him a meek thank you and dash off

He's left there waiting for his hug and kiss that won't ever happen

He's not jealous, he told you not to thank him with physical affection

He just didn't realize that he was shooting himself in the foot when he snapped at you

So he starts trying to tempt you into it, taking every opportunity to help you out with every little thing

Alastor will physically shove the others out of the way in order to be the person who helps you out

And he never gets the proper thank you that he's looking for

It's getting to the point where you're driving him insane with those kissy lips and warm embraces

Why won't you just fucking give him some attention!? Oh yeah. Because he ruined it for himself

You do tell him that you're grateful for him and his help, sweetly smiling at him but keeping yourself at a distance

But it's not enough, he wants what everyone else is getting and then some

He hates being excluded or not being special and it's even worse when it comes to you

Alastor's thin patience suddenly snaps when one day while he's out running errands with you

The two of you bump into Zestial and the great overlord opens a door for you, earning a soft kiss on his cheek

It would almost be cute watching you struggle to do that, considering Zestial's height

But instead...Alastor is fucking irritated 😤

Zestial takes it well and you continue to run errands with Alastor for the rest of the day even though he's visibly sulky

His ears are bent back and his eyes are furious

You wonder what you did wrong

He's a bit distant from you for a couple days after that and you miss having him around

Even if you couldn't be with him, you still liked hanging around him and spending time with him

Just when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself and thinking you did something to offend him, wandering the hotel

He shows up by your side and grabs you, miraculously stopping you from almost falling into a fucking hole in the floor that wasn't there yesterday

Charlie is to blame somehow

You're just so happy to see him hanging out with you again that you hug him out instinct

Only to realize you fucked up and try to pull away-

But Alastor's firm grip on you stops you from moving, and he's looking at you in a way that makes your face heat up

"U-uh...um...thank you...Alastor..."

He tuts at you while shaking his head, pulling you flush against him as he leans in closer

"Words won't suffice anymore, my dear~ I'll only accept one thing as payment for my heroic services~"

You definitely don't melt when he suddenly kisses you and if your arms find their way around his neck then...

Who are you to deny him his payment? Kiss that bastard until he's crawling away and begging for mercy

Me hoping I didn't just shoot myself in the foot by bringing up the door thing again..

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

51 / 600 words / mer!Price likes what he likes.

...

Price doesn't have to learn how to use praise to coax you into doing what he wants. He already made you his.

He's a shark. sharp teeth, rough skin, instincts leading him to intimidate anything approaching his size and threat. But for you, his best weapon is his tongue. A soft, low voice. Firm hands. A word of praise and a scratch under the chin is enough to bring you to his side again and again.

He smirks at the way you stretch up his claws at the nice scritching feeling.

"Good girl," he says. It's incredible how easily you go from being fussy and busy to so, so pliable. You're the only thing in this reef he doesn't need to exert any force to tame.

He slides his hand up to the underside of your jaw, lifting your head to expose your throat.

"Who does this pretty neck belong to, pet?" he asks.

"Hmmm?"

"Tell me," he commands, patience thinning. He uses that commanding tone that triggers your deep-seated instincts to obey. And he tightens his grip in warning. “Use your words.”

"You," you say. You wrap your hands around his larger one as sweetly as you can and rub your cheek against the hand holding you. "All yours."

"That's right." His to command and control as he sees fit; his to care for and use as he pleases.

He tilts your head up to make you look at him better. "And who else gets to touch you like this?" he asks.

"You," you tell him. You don't mention Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. They're allowed to touch you, but you know it's because they belong to Price, too.

He notices the omission of the others, noting to himself later to make time to mark you properly. But he hums in satisfaction and runs his thumb over your lower lip. "Where do these pretty little lips belong?" he asks.

You give him a blank, doe-eyed stare.

"Playing dumb?" He gently pinches your lower lip between his fingers and wiggles slightly. "Such a soft mouth... Surely it has some use."

You tilt your head as if puzzled.

Price's eye twitches, but it makes you look so stupid that he lets it slide. He could easily just take you now to fulfill his own selfish needs, but he's more attracted to the allure of a steady, controlled descent into submission. He wants your sweet little brain primed and ready to do what he says--no playing, no resistance. Only service.

"Your lips are for more than giving me little pouts and smartass remarks." He uses both hands to grip the soft, yielding muscle of your jaws, cupping your face to draw you closer to him. "Let me see those pretty teeth of yours again," he instructs.

You open your mouth.

He makes a sound in his throat as he runs his thumbs over your bottom teeth, gently coaxing you to open wider. "Such a cute mouth, and all it does is give me trouble," he mutters.

He watches your eyes slide shut and smiles indulgently. Your teeth gently nip on the tip of his thumb. He huffs in amusement.

"There's something else it could be doing to be useful, don't you think?"

You straighten up, but your eyes still lull half-lidded. "Mm, okay. What do I do?"

He smiles at the way your gaze wanders from his eyes down to his mouth before darting back up. It's endearing to see just how easily you fall into the role he's preparing for you.

"We'll start with something simple. I want you to show me exactly what you're supposed to do. What you were meant to be used for." He guides you closer to him. "Come here."

...

more mer au / more Price / masterlist

[teamred]

sunday morning

✩�� logan howlett x reader x wade wilson | fluff | suggestive | 1.1k

SUMMARY | autumn weather begins to roll in one sunday morning. you greet your boyfriends in the living room, finding wade matching you in one of logan's signature plaid shirts. // part of the home sweet home series

WARNINGS | making out, touching, s*xual jokes, morning s*x on the couch implied

RATING | teen+

Warm streams of sunlight pour through the slitted window shades and onto the bed, draping over your eyes and waking you from your beautiful slumber.

With a content smile, you savor the fact that it’s Sunday and that sunlight, rather than an obnoxious alarm, is your wake-up call. You prefer it this way over any day.

Despite the sun’s warmth, you find it chilly, more so than usual, especially in contrast to your t-shirt and shorts-clad body. Fall approaches and it’s one of your favourite times of the year. The beginning of cozy drinks, crisp air, and the city blanketed in vibrant orange leaves. 

But for now, you’re not quite ready to embrace autumn, tugging the blanket up and covering your shivering self up to your neck to ward off the chill. 

Reaching behind you in the king-sized bed, you hope to find one of your boyfriends for a little extra comfort and warmth, but your hand only meets empty space. Your ears catch the familiar hum of your more talkative partner, along with the TV and satisfying sounds of morning coffee being made. 

Blinking the sleep away, you spend a few more moments nestling in your blanket. When you finally decide to get up, you instinctively step towards Logan’s side of the closet and grab one of his brown plaid shirts to cover-up. Given his taller stature, the ends of his shirt easily cover your thighs. 

The bedroom door creaks open and Dogpool immediately welcomes you with a happy wag of her tail. Squatting down to her level, you pet her on the head and give her some loving scritches. 

Glancing up, you spot Logan sprawled on the sectional sofa, watching TV with his legs draped over the extended part. He’s wearing a simple white tee and plaid pajama pants and adorning a bit of messy hair.

Across the room, in the kitchen, Wade’s whistling as he makes drinks, decked out in one of his many Spider-man shirts, pink and white striped pajama bottoms, and another plaid shirt from Logan’s extensive collection. 

Your smile widens at the sight of him in Logan’s clothes, fawning how handsome he is, almost rocking it as much as Logan does.  

Standing up, you catch Logan eyeing you up and down, gaze lingering on how the oversized shirt fits you. There’s a glint in his eye, reminiscent of how he looked at you last night. 

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says with a small smile, his voice still carrying the raspy edge of waking up early.

“Good morning, sweet cheeks!” Wade sing-songs. “How are the holes this fine—” 

His face lights up as he sees what you’re wearing. 

“Oh, my God! We’re totally matchy-matchy, babe,” Wade says, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise.  

You stroll into the kitchen and touch his chest from behind. “We are, indeed, babe.” 

Initially, you plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, but he turns his head after, diving into a deep kiss. Post-kiss, he gently rubs his nose against yours, holding you by your waist. You giggle at the affectionate gesture. 

“Who pulls it off better, Logie Bear?” Wade asks, still tenderly holding you with locked eyes.

“You know the answer to that,” Logan deadpans from the living room. 

“It’s me,” Wade mouths, pointing to himself dramatically. Although you shake your head in disagreement, you beam in response. 

Reluctantly, you pull away from Wade’s body, but still keep contact in the form of hand-holding. You grab the cup of tea he made for you. 

“It’s cool this morning, huh?” you comment, blowing your tea before taking a sip. 

“Yeah, fall’s officially here to eat our ass out,” he mirrors you, drinking some of his coffee. “Not that I’m complaining—you know I love me some PSLs.” 

You glance at the color of his coffee. 

“Wade, I’m not sure pumpkin spice lattes can even compete with how sweet and creamy you take your coffee.” 

“What are you talking about? I add just a teeny, tiny pinch of cream and sugar,” he protests. 

“You drink coffee the worst way, bub,” Logan pipes up, surprisingly listening in on the pointless conversation. 

“Okay, Mr. I-Drink-Coffee-As-Dark-As-My-Empty-Soul,” Wade retorts with a roll of his eyes. He jerks a thumb toward the living room. “Get a load of this guy, am I right? Actually, on second thought, you did get a load of him last night. And me, of course.” 

He winks at you and all you can do is shake your head, indulging in Wade’s humor. You gather your tea and another cup, then walk towards the couch. Setting a cup of black coffee on a coaster in front of Logan and placing your tea beside it, you settle next to him. He drags his attention away from the TV and reaches out for you, touching the back of your bare thigh. 

“Thanks, baby,” he says, rubbing his thumb tenderly over your skin. You squeeze his hand in response, a silent “Of course” conveyed.

“Did Wade wake you up?” you ask. 

Logan shakes his head. “No, I was up before sunrise. Had a hard time fallin’ back asleep.” 

“Was it really bad last night?” you ask in concern, reaching out to stroke his face.

“No, it was fine,” he assures. “Sleep’s been better since we started this.” 

This obviously implying the unconventional relationship you three share, but it works, even if Logan’s not keen to admit how he has a soft spot for Wade. Logan leans into you for a kiss, his grin spreading as he does so. It’s hard not to mirror his smile. 

The kissing is innocent, but only for so long.

“You look so fuckin’ good in just my shirt, y’know that?” he murmurs, tugging you flush to his body. His calloused hands trail up your legs and underneath his shirt that you’re wearing. A low moan follows. 

“Hey, invite me if you’re gonna be fucking on my couch without me!” Wade exclaims, suddenly flopping across Logan’s lap and your body. You groan, trying to support the weight of your two muscle-bound boyfriends. 

“It’s Al’s couch!” you and Logan chorus, barely managing to keep your balance.

“And don’t you forget it!” Althea suddenly says, her voice muffled behind her bedroom door. 

Logan shifts to press closer against Wade while still holding onto you. Your other boyfriend dips his head, kissing you fervently. His coffee breath is unmistakable, but you couldn't care less, especially when you feel Wade pressing his rising hardness against you.

“Also, besides my usual warning about keeping it down, if you’re gonna fuck on the couch again, please wipe it down after,” Blind Al calls out, still behind the door.  

“Yes, Al,” all three of you respond in unison in your tangled harmony. 

Before long, plaid shirts are tossed aside, along with the rest of everyone’s bed wear. You keep your moans and whines to a minimum for Al’s sake (or at least you try to).

You welcome the oncoming weather of fall with your bodies pressed up against each other, exchanging warmth in the chill morning. 

And of course, besides sleeping in, you remember why Sunday mornings are your absolute favourite.

[wilwheaton]

Hey Wil, this is out of left field, but you’ve done some work that might have been dubbed into other languages.

Have you ever viewed anything you’ve done in a dubbed version? I can’t imagine what it’s like watching yourself on screen, but it’s got to be pretty trippy to watch yourself performing with a stranger’s voice coming out.

Just wondered. Hope you’re having a great day. Please give Marlowe & Watson scritches from me. 💜

Oh my god. Yes. I have one story and WOW is it weird.

So, in the early 90s, when TNG was dubbed for Germany, the actor they cast to voice Wesley made this choice (or was directed) to be obnoxiously whiny. Like, it could not have been more wrong for the character, and farther away from my performance. This person made Wesley a bratty, whiny, snotty kid. Like, WOW, did they fundamentally change how German audiences experienced this character.

I had no idea, because in the early 90s, the world was bigger than it is today. But I saw LOTS of letters and comments in magazines (and on Usenet) from Trekkies in Germany who fucking HATED Wesley with a firey passion that was even more intense than the way protoincels hated him in America. I didn't understand why, specifically in Germany, he was so despised.

Fast forward to ... I want to say 2011? Maybe 2012? Somewhere around there. I went to Germany for a convention. It was my first time ever visiting the country, and meeting lots of German fans all at once. And over the course of my first day, I began to hear stories from people who hated Wesley, until they heard him in English. In German, he was a whiny little punk, in English, he was ... well, you know who he was.

I wish I knew who made the choice to portray Wesley that way, and why, and why the mothership in Hollywood didn't intervene. I mean, he's just a profoundly different character in German.

I still haven't seen or heard the German dub. Last time I looked, I couldn't find it and I haven't looked again, since.

But now I wonder ... how many anime dubs did I watch over the years where the characters were totally different in English than they are in their original language?

[shigarosie]

"Tell it to move."

"Tomura-"

"That's my spot."

"When have you ever sat in my lap?" You ask, continuing to scritch behind your cat's ears. She purrs louder, like she's rubbing it in his face.

Shigaraki sneers at her. "I put my head there and you touch my hair. Make it go somewhere else."

"You always throw a fit when I touch your hair," you smirk. You know he likes it despite his protests, but it's always fun getting him to admit his love of your affection for him. "And she just wants some loving. Why don't you come sit next to me and I'll pet you too?"

"I'm not an animal," he scoffs.

You shrug. "Suit yourself." You kiss her tiny forehead and she rubs her face across your cheek, scenting you to mark her claim.

Shigaraki pouts on the other end of the couch, grumbling away about neglect as he plays his switch, eyes darting over to see if you've gotten rid of the beast yet. She makes biscuits in your lap and stares him down, daring him to try something with her, knowing it'll only make you baby her more.

"It's glaring at me," he points out.

"You're glaring back," you point out.

Your boyfriend huffs. A few minutes later he's moving beside you, his head finding your shoulder and waiting for your free hand to come up and stroke his hair.

Your cat starts growling at him but you shush her and scratch her favorite spot, right on her chest, to calm her down.

"See? Not so bad," you say to both of them. Both their heads turn to look away from you in protest, but remaining in the petting zone. You can't help but laugh, giving them each a little kiss. They'll get over their feud, you think. Eventually.