#been sitting on this one oops

[cotl-inspiteofyou]

(He is a Centipede with one eye also a demon)My almighty bishops it is I salvaged god of decaying ones I have traveled far to join your ranks what is your answer

[qvert]

[kurikorso]

in my moomins era once again. i've been amused lately at the idea of The Joxter carrying baby Snufkin around in his mouth

[meamiki]

my friend and i have this ongoing bit on stream where we are going to shave the king bald...... yeah........

((there are actually two ongoing bits with the king. but i do not think anyone wants me to illustrate the second one. including myself. perhaps i am a coward and that is okay. i will not be elaborating at this time. SAFSADASDAS))

[a-most-beloved-fool]

For the ask prompt game...

Spirk #17 to distract

"Report," Kirk ordered. The word buzzed low against Spock's ear, quiet and audibly tense.

"Less than two minutes until they reach our location, Captain," Spock replied promptly. "Commander Scott will need at least another eight before the transporter is operable again." His voice was equally hush, despite their perceived solitude. He had seen carelessness take far too many lives during his time in Starfleet; he would not allow it to take his captain as well - and, illogically, Spock could not quite dispense of the phantom sensation of eyes on the back of his neck.

"We'll need to bluff it," Kirk decided, looking grim.

His gaze was strangely intense against Spock, full of rioting emotion, and, almost, Spock wished to look away. He did not. Instead, he nodded, holding steady eye contact.

The odds, Spock knew, that Kirk's gambit - whatever it may be - would succeed were... poor. The guards had, after all, seen their faces. But Kirk would keep fighting right until the bitter end, and Spock, of course, would be right beside him.

Solemn, he vowed, "I shall follow your lead," though he knew Kirk would not have doubted it. Still, the unnecessary words were well worth the way the tension around Kirk's eyes melted away, the somber set of his mouth slipping instead into a golden-edged smile.

Almost wonderingly, a soft chuckle fell from those lips, incongruous in their surroundings and entirely treasured. "What would I do without you?" Kirk asked, reaching up to exert gentle pressure on Spock's bicep.

I pray you never need find out, Spock made to say, getting only so far as drawing in breath before the sound of distant footsteps drew them both from their quiet moment, snuffing the words before they could take shape. "Eighteen seconds," he said instead, after rapidly adjusting his calculations. Faster than anticipated.

Kirk nodded, some unreadable emotion hiding in the soft crease between his brows.

"Forgive me, Mr. Spock," Kirk said softly, and Spock did not have time to question what he meant before Kirk was pulling him down by his shirt, dragging their lips together with great urgency.

Quite suddenly, Spock found that his mind was entirely blank. Strange heat flickered through his whole form, and his universe narrowed to only Kirk, all soft and human-warm, who was pressed flush to his chest and kissing him.

One, then two seconds stuttered by in which Spock thought no thoughts at all, struck utterly motionless in the face of such unexpected attentions. He only felt, swept away by the sensation of pliant lips against his own and warm fingers stroking through his hair, gently mussing.

The very first thought to break to the surface was simply, Jim. A wave of emotion flooded in with it, astonishment and affection sweeping over him in such quantities that he felt nearly lightheaded.

The second was, We will be caught, and Spock jolted as something near to panic rose up inside his gullet, urging him to take Jim into his arms and run.

The third, however, was not his own; it was pressed into his katra from the outside by Jim's careful fingers, his clever mind slipping easily past Spock's shields. Play along, he said, projecting deliberate calm through their connection. Still, Jim was unpracticed in telepathic arts, and beneath that false serenity Spock could feel a tangle of guilt and determination, bitter and writhing.

The truth came to Spock in one fell swoop.

Jim's gambit... was this.

His lips and his hands, which pressed themselves so tenderly to Spock's skin, were not for him.

It was not love which had drawn his captain into his arms, but mere utility. Jim had realized what Spock had not: though they could not hide themselves, they could, perhaps, distract from themselves.

Two men attempting to look inconspicuous would only draw suspicion. Two men locked in a romantic embrace, however, may be overlooked - or even deliberately ignored. Few were comfortable with looking closely at the private passions of strangers, and fewer still would see reason to. Those searching for them, Spock hoped, would not. There would be no logic in halting an escape attempt solely for a kiss, after all.

Therefore, in order to escape unnoticed, they must be convincing.

They must seem, to any observers, to be completely and entirely immersed in one another, with no care for anything going on in their surroundings, and no fear of discovery.

Two lives, purchased with a kiss.

It was entirely logical, then, for Spock to part his lips, inviting Jim's tongue to dip inside of the wet cave of his mouth and meeting it with his own. If a groan rumbled deep within his chest, it could surely only help their cause; there was no need to swallow it down.

This disguise would, Spock observed as Jim's tongue flicked gently at his mouth, be far easier to maintain than it had any right to be.

It was a terribly simple matter for a man in love to behave as though he were a man in love.

The difficult part, then, would be remembering that it was a ruse. Already, heat bubbled deep within Spock, aching want suffusing his every neuron. Every faint brush of flesh sent golden tendrils of telepathic energy sparking across his skin, and it was all Spock could manage to hold himself back from pressing hungry fingers to Jim's meldpoints and sinking into that wonderfully enticing mind.

Instead, Spock slipped a hand beneath the hem of Jim's shirt, rucking up the cloth until he was tracing patterns across a smooth expanse of golden skin. He flexed his hand, allowing his nails to scratch carefully along Jim's spine, and did not permit himself to consider reaching upwards, to Jim's face - or worse: downwards, beyond the waistband of his pants.

He wondered if Jim would have chosen this, had he known how very much Spock wanted.

Perhaps it was selfish of Spock to allow it.

Still, he could not force himself away - not when Jim's life was at stake. The kiss was his lifeline, and so the kiss must remain.

The touch of their minds, however, did nothing to aid Jim. It was solely for Spock's benefit, taken from Jim without his knowledge or intent.

That, Spock could end.

If Jim was to unknowingly place himself into the hands of someone who wanted more than he would wish to give, then Spock would take it upon himself to be his protector - even if the one he must protect against was himself.

And so, Spock opened himself to every offered touch, and girded his mind against every stray thought, until not a single wisp of golden energy could find its way past his defenses.

When Jim's thigh nudged its way between Spock's legs, Spock spread his stance wider, allowing him to press closer, and did not let himself feel. His hands grasped and squeezed at the soft flesh beneath them, drawing quiet gasps from a pink-flushed throat, and no pleasant hum buzzed against his fingertips, carrying with it the flavor of human emotion. Jim nipped at his lips and pet at his hair, and Spock pressed every scrap of yearning deep down within himself to where they couldn't emerge.

Eyes closed and spirit aching, Spock kissed him.

_____________

from this ask game

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

[rockpaperscissuhs]

HISPANIC HERITAGE MONTH + BAND OF BROTHERS:

JOSEPH "JOE" RAMIREZ

Born October 5th, 1921, in Nebraska

Died April 8th, 1988 (age 66), in Martinez, California

Joe Ramirez enlisted in September 1942 (age 20) in San Francisco, CA, and he trained with Easy Company at Toccoa. Holding the rank of Private, he served in Normandy, Holland, and Bastogne. He was hospitalized in January 1945, and discharged in July 1945. After the war, he was married for many years, and had children and grandchildren. When he passed away he was buried with his wife, who had passed away 11 years earlier. Further information about him is scarce, but the brief character profile in the Band of Brothers series bible describes him as Mexican-American, and his personality as "sensitive and nervous."

Appears in Episodes 1, 3-8, and 10; portrayed by actor Rene L. Moreno

Sources below

A million thanks to @bleedingcoffee42 for tracking down this info for me!

[moeblob]

Because his inner monologues really are just. So long. And I think it's important to show how much this guy thinks in order to say "not quite".

[demi-pixellated]

a stray

[madaqueue]

HIIIIIII HI MY LOVES!!!!!!! HAPPY MONDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you all had a fabulous weekend :’) i pinky promise to get through the rest of my birthday messages today so they will be queued up while i am at work <3 get yourselves a little treat from me today bc you deserve it!!!!!!! we will have a wonderful week we got this!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!

[tothesolarium]

Factory Made Guardian Angels: to keep this Blessed Kingdom Safe

Right to sue the state in any incident of injury/accidental waived during last voting session while confirming registration

[robinsnest2111]

drinking soda (can unopened and refrigerated the whole time) a couple weeks after the best before date won't kill me, right...?

[south-sea]

i've been promising it for ages, so here are finally some notes on the two iterations of black arms/doom i write for. in this house we ignore the "black doom is an evil space tyrant for the sake of being an evil space tyrant" thing and have fun exploring his motives from different angles

(it's because i had no idea that was even a thing until like a week ago. i've always thought the motivator was Just Food, and i like that significantly more.)

i like to think of eclipse's paternal qualities as something telling to black doom/the species as a whole, at least outside of canon instances. so that's an intentional trend across both.

it's also intentionally implied the alt arms are more or less what aruna's hive could/would have turned out like if he were less traditionally stubborn and foolhardy.

as for their plans and how things ended up:

alt doom started out as generally interested in how humanity might progress. once in contact with gerald, his plan was to trade his DNA for the chaos emeralds as a source of energy for the black comet, as its at-the-time power would have been mostly depleted by the time it circled back around in 50 years. this agreement was doomed to fail; both he and gerald almost immediately realized how badly it could backfire, got paranoid, and mutually planned to destroy each other. the fact humans are good sustenance for the black arms was just a convenient bonus at that point.

given shadow didn't make it past SA2 on this timeline, it left sonic to defeat the black arms. and in sonic fashion, this meant putting them in their place and sending them packing without properly destroying them.

alt doom is not so much one to accept he's been beaten, and more one to re-approach something from a different angle once he realizes his methods were flawed. this leads to him picking up and just going Somewhere Else. he's a scientist too, on some level. he can figure it out. and he does. rather than being all traditional and stubborn, he learns to work with other species, which in turn leads to securing better/more diverse materials, more ethical/convenient food sources, etc. the arms' population booms and advances at breakneck pace from then on. they diversify and spread out. without having to fight for survival, things are chill. it's considered the good end.

aruna's is the bad end. shadow is present on this timeline, and summarily wrecks his entire shit (for good reason).

the trouble with aruna's hive is it was in a constant state of nutritional deficit. they were the multiverse's scavengers, tending to pick planets clean whose populations were already critically low. not for any moral or ethical reason, just that the hive itself was so comparatively small in numbers, they didn't much have a choice.

this led to desperation. he got Tired of it. his last ditch effort to secure some means of easier travel/means to acquire food was to obtain the chaos emeralds. so he struck a deal with gerald, as these things always go.

he comes back 50 years later, finds his son has sided with the humans, and just snaps. just goes absolutely nuclear. if the deal isn't going to be upheld, and shadow sees the black arms as The Enemy, then he's just going to take the emeralds (and by extension the whole planet itself) by force. he's done playing nice. he and his people are starving. have been starving for enough years he's lost count.

this ends with the entire comet being blown up, and that's the last thing he sees as he's falling back to earth.

what all goes on after that point is between nobody but him, the multiverse's worst and, somehow, eventually, a familiar fallen god. (it's going in another aruna-centric post, some day, maybe, i hope.)

there's even still more i could say about how their respective hives operated and how they interacted with them personally, but that also needs to go in another post because this one's already long enough. but oh man is there more to say.

(and a shoutout/direct link to @motobug as always for the mobian design)

[pumpkinhcad]

HAMMY'S POSTING. My replies keep getting longer and longer, oopsie... I apologize, I just love yapping and even when I match length I'm not finished yet. 😔 I'm also allergic to short replies, I have a problem.

[oops-i-write]

It shouldn't have ended up like this.

Eyes to eyes, intense stare, trying to find something. Something special that they had once. And now there's a wooden sword that is pressed against the solar plexus in a hand that's trembling treacherously.

It shouldn't have been like this. Children shouldn't have died for their father's cowardice and weakness.

Revenge for a revenge. A complicated mess. They never had a future. They both always ran away. But he hoped it would bring them closer, minus into minus equals to plus, but they only repeled like two magnets.

When Gabriel first came to Loki for help no one knew it would end up like this. It wasn't necessary, it just... Happened. Two runaways, they found each other and grew closer in their despair.

Revenge for Odin's death? Bullshit. But no one should know how shamefully hard pagan god fell for an archangel. And no one will ever know how hard an archangel fell for him.

There are tears in the eyes.

Gabriel still remembered an almost sweet kiss that Loki gave him before betraying him so painfully, and even hell's torture couldn't erase the lingering taste.

"I'm sorry"

There's a chaste kiss to the lips before wooden sword moves through the body.

It shouldn't have even started.

[romanceclub-confessionss]

Not a confession. Is there any face claim for Greg? Thanks!

again, none of us really know about face claims ! sorry we're not much help, but i'd suggest looking at actual faceclaim-posting blogs around here 😊 - mod lizzie