#but it is kinda like what is the point of all that... get a body pillow and weighted blanket and move on

[monstersholygrail]

Get Mad

Wolf Hybrid bf x Puppy fem!reader || light spank, grinding, wild sex

“Get mad.”

Your Wolf Hybrid bf demands as you both stand in front of your bedroom vanity. When you had asked him to help you, a sweet Puppy Hybrid, toughen up, you had kinda expected him to laugh in your face. And he did. Burst out laughing in fact. But you hadn’t expected him to then grab your arm in that gentle but firm grip of his and drag you to your vanity.

With all the strength you could manage you scrunch your face up, hold out your claws, and try and give the mirror a mean growl. Of course, it didn’t look too intimidating with your fluffy little tail wagging to show off your happiness.

Your bf wasn’t all that impressed either, ears pointed forward stiffly and fixing you with a hard stare. He motions to the mirror again.

“Get. Mad!”

You don’t waste a second this time, twisting your features up even further, your nose wrinkling, and your lips curling back as you give the mirror an even tougher growl. Swatting half-heartedly at your reflecting with your claws.

“I said get mad!”

His chilling growl registers a second before a harsh ‘CRACK’ rings throughout the air. The pain on your ass blooms a second after that yet it still takes you a moment to realize— that bastard just spanked you!

Without a second thought you whip around to face him, a genuine growl rumbling from your throat. Your tail tucked between your legs. It honestly shocks him, even catching onto the way your body just barely shakes with unrestrained fury.

Still, when he grabs your plush hips to plop you down on the vanity and you go to snap your jaw at his hands, he can’t help but laugh. Even when scary you’re just too cute.

His hands find your ass and drag you to the edge of the vanity. Your face instantly drops when you feel his straining bulge pressing up against his gym shorts. He notices instantly a smirk curls on his lip.

“What happened, ma? Where’d all that anger go?”

The way he purrs his words has you whimpering already. With that deep chuckle of his he continues to tease you, rocking his hips and rubbing against you. The heat of your core seeps through the layers of your clothes and drives him wild.

“Not even gonna fight for what you want? Just expect me to give it to ya?”

Your jaw drops in a shaky gasp as he leans back enough to quickly slip off your pants and expose your glistening lips to the cold air. He groans long and low at the sight, his hips bucking closer to you.

He doesn’t look away from your pretty cunt for a second and he shuffles down his shorts just enough for his thick got to spring from its confines and smack against his stomach. A droplet of pre smearing against his abs. Your cunt flutters around nothing from that alone and your bfs eyes nearly roll back. A short snarl builds from his chest with frustration.

“You know y’re lucky I spoil you rotten— else I wouldn’t give you this dick ‘less ya begged for it.”

Then he’s sinking deep inside your tight heat with one smooth stroke, causing you to choke on air. And of course he doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, fucking into you like a man possessed. Growling under his breath as your cunt squeezes him so fucking tightly.

He fucks you dumb as he slams his length to the hilt with every thrust. Each time his tip brushes against that special spot inside you another though flies out of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you up and helping you meet each brutal slam of his hips.

“C-c’mon, mmph— fuck yes— show me you can get mad, baby. Take your pleasure, use my cock, that’s it.”

A flurry of praises spill from his lips as he jackhammers into your cunt with such wild abandon that the vanity shakes beneath you, the wood nearly threatening to snap in half. It wouldn’t be the first time. You have no strength to hold back any of the moans that pour out of you, the pleasure so intense you can barely handle it. All of it focusing on rocking back into his thrusts.

His words spur you on, fuel you, and with a burst of energy you dig your heels into his ass and force his cock even deeper inside your scorching walls. The new angle causing his angry swollen tip to kiss your cervix as your bodies smack against each other over and over again.

You work yourself on his girth with a special kind of madness as you use him just how you need to feel good. He reads your mind and listens to your body effortlessly. And when that cord snaps you have one of the best orgasms of your entire life, pleasure buzzing through you and shooting straight to your core.

He works you through your orgasm, never stopping in his relentless pace even as you’re shaking and sucking him back in, practically strangers his cock. Then with a furious growl he slides his length in to the hilt, grinding against your puffy clit, and fills you up with spurt after spurt of his cum.

The two of you are left panting once your orgasms start to ebb away. A playful grin on your bf’s face as he sees just how fucked out you are. He leans in and tenderly presses a kiss to your temple.

“Now gimme a lil growl.”

You do your best despite not even having caught your breath yet. Giving him your weakest growl yet. But instead of teasing you about it he just chuckles under his breath and swoops down to kiss your lips this time. A silent praise for trying your best.

It’s alright. He can be plenty intimidating enough for the both of you.

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for Vamp

A/N: You can read the rest of Ambrose story here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

Craving you

Minotaur [Ambrose] x fem!reader || predator/prey (light), dirty talk, edging (kinda), choking, anal fingering, degradation (light)

You’ve been craving your boyfriend’s attention.

You two have been so busy the past few days that you barely touched. Don’t get it wrong, you loved to cuddle with him, you loved how his body curled around you when at the end of the day and you spooned in bed. You loved all the affection… but you also wanted all the sex.

And you have been so fucking tired you have barely touched each other. And you were just human, okay? You didn’t ask for much, just a few (dozen) orgasms and to be fucked until your brain melted completely and you could lay there just… being.

But today is your free day, and Ambrose isn’t home. You are missing him dearly, and what does a brat when they want attention? They test it. In the form of a bunch of sexy pics in a few different lingerie sets, taking especial attention to display your… assets in every pic.

You start casually, sending him a pic of you smiling over a cup of coffee at breakfast. Then a mirror selfie without your pajama bottoms… And before you realize it’s barely noon and you are sending him topless pics with a dildo between your boobs.

He sees all your messages, but at some point he starts leaving you on read. Which can only mean two things: either he’s REALLY busy, or you are teasing his patience so much he can’t even talk to you.

And you hope it’s both.

You hope he’s aching and hard, thinking about you at home playing with yourself and how he can’t do anything about it. You want him as desperate for you as you are for him. You want him panting in need by the time he gets home. And as the hour approaches, you get bolder and bolder, sending a pic of a dildo pressing against your panties, a pic of the dildo fully inside of you, a tiny clip of you turning on the vibration and moaning… Maybe you are being a bit brattier than usual, sending the images and clips and adding messages gloating about it, like “warming your dinner” or “your dick feels a lot better than this plastic”.

But, truth be told, you are teasing yourself as much as you are teasing him, and you are eager for him to get home.

By the time he answers with a short “I’m on my way,” your insides are twisting and you can feel a spark of anxiety inside of you, but it’s rapidly overthrown by pent up excitement and anticipation. And then you have an idea. A great idea. A wonderful idea.

You take all the dirty clothes from the basket and start hiding some of them around the house, and then you find a spot where he couldn’t find you, and sit there, your body tense and your heartbeat bunny-fast. You listen carefully, your hand over your mouth, as Ambrose opens the front door and walks around the house looking for you.

You can’t see him, but you can almost taste his frustration in the air. “Sunshine… where are you?” You bite your lip not to giggle. You hear him walking around for a bit, your heart going faster and faster. “This is not funny, come out or you’ll regret it.” Yeah, right.

With each passing second you can feel the built up inside your body, and you can hear him getting more and more frustrated. It’s delicious. He grunts, surely finding another piece of dirty clothes, but not you. You can hear him getting closer, and your heartbeat is going haywire inside your chest. You feel like a prey, and you can just guess how mad he would be when he finds you.

You are so focused on being quiet that you don’t realize he’s close, and when the door of the cabinet opens you let out a high pitched screech. “You’ve been playing with fire, sunshine,” he says as he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, your stomach pressing against his shoulder as all the air leaves your body.

He walks to the bedroom as you try to kick his chest, but he’s holding you too tight, and your face is focused on the way his ass-cheeks move. Dang, that’s a fine ass. You slap it as hard as you can, and he roars. Literally roars. You have to swallow fast before you let out a huge moan. He walks faster, your body flying through the air before you land on the bed.

He’s on top of you instantly, breathing hard. His body is almost trembling, and you can feel the energy sparkling between you two. His hand finds your neck, and he presses you down softly, careful not to make it painful, but making sure you know who’s in charge.

“You know how much I’ve been craving you? You know how hard has it been to spend all day working knowing you were home? And on top of that, you have to be a brat and send me all those pictures without a fucking care in the world. You are such a tease,” he almost spits the words out. “You don’t know what’s good. You don’t know what that does to me.”

You whimper, opening your mouth to speak, but his hand doesn’t leave your neck, not pressing, not moving, just a weight against it that makes you want to rub your thighs together.

“No, you don’t get to talk, yet. You don’t know how hard I’ve been all fucking day?” He presses his clothed dick against your panties and you whimper. “I’ve been so angry and on edge because of you that they send me home early.” He licks a stripe down your neck, next to his fingers, and your eyes roll back into your head. “And now I finally can have you,” it sounds like a threat and a promise.

He manhandles you until your knees are next to your ears and you are exposed and vulnerable, his hand never leaving your neck. “Look at that, you’ve been teasing so much all day… but you have been good, haven’t you? You didn’t come because you know it’s better when I do it, right puppy?” You whimper, nodding rapidly. “Good girl,” he praises. His finger rubs up and down your pussy, gathering some of your juices and bringing his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.” You can’t obey fast enough. “Better get them nice and sloppy, sunshine. I’m going to use them to fuck your pretty asshole until you are begging me to fuck your needy pussy.” You whimper around the fingers, pressing your tongue around them until they are wet with saliva.

He does as he promised, traveling down your body and pressing two huge fingers against your tight hole. It takes a bit for him to be able to fit inside, but when he finally pushes in… You let out a long scream that pretends to sound like his name, but is barely an incoherent moan.

“Just like that, sunshine. You take me so well, I love that you are always this desperate for me, so needy and pretty with tears running down your face. Are you going to come for me like this? Are you close?” You nod again, your eyes closing as he fucks your asshole faster. And when you are about to lose it… He stops. “Not so fast, sunshine. You’ve been teasing me all day, now it’s my turn.”

You let out a cry when he pulls his fingers out. He gets on his knees between your legs and rubs the tip of his leaking cock against your clenching center.

“Look at that, your pussy is asking for me, isn’t it? Awww, how cute!” He flicks your clit and you let out a scream of his name. He releases the hold on your neck, his hands holding your legs far apart.

“Ambrose, please…” You try to beg, your eyes teary.

He chuckles without humor. “Now you beg? After spending a whole day teasing me you want me to give in so easily? Aww, sunshine… I thought you knew better.”

He pushes his dick inside of you in one fast thrust, and if you weren’t so desperate and ready before him, it would have been painful. But it’s not, it’s just perfect, and full, and incredible. And you can’t hold yourself back from coming as soon as he starts thrusting.

But he’s beyond punishments, he’s beyond anything he said before that moment, because the second his hips start moving, he’s just a monster fucking his girlfriend. His eyes are unfocused, and you can almost taste the desperation on his lips as you devour his mouth. Is messy and fast, and completely incredible.

He fucks you like a machine, spilling his load into you after a couple thrust, but not stopping. He fucks you so full and so fast you can barely see him moving, but good damn it if you can’t feel him with every fiber of your being. He’s possessing you, he’s fucking you like his soul is being ripped away, and you can’t get enough.

Your nails digging in his back as he pushes further, deeper… He’s holding the headboard with a hand so you don’t move with his thrust, and you can’t fucking stop moaning. He’s an unrelenting beast, and you love it.

Orgasm after orgasm rip through your body, your pussy getting messier and messier with each one of your combined releases, but you don’t care. You need more. You crave more.

By the time he’s done with you, your pussy is leaking so much of his come you can feel a puddle forming under you and both of you are breathing hard. “Worth it,” you let out in a breath against his chest, where your head is resting after bouncing on his dick for what felt like an eternity in the last round.

“What would I do with you?” He chuckles, caressing your hair.

“Love me,” you whisper before your eyes close and you fall into deep slumber.

You don’t hear him whisper your name like a plea, or the way he looks down at you with adoration.

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+.MDNI. Part Ⅱ.

It's been 2 weeks, since step 1 of your body exploration project, Bakugou still refuses to call it that, instead insisting it's just horny hormones possessing you both, despite it, all he can think about is you, your pliant body, laying on the floor as he explored your chest.

He couldn't get the image of you out of his head, late night thoughts spent on wondering what you looked like underneath all the clothing, he understood your curiosity now.

"When are you free this week?" He spoke, breaking the silence in your office, you quirk your eyebrow at him, silently asking him for an explanation.

"I am not free till Saturday," You rummage through your drawers, "but I do have 2 days off after that," you pull out a crumbled paper, which had your schedule for the month. "Why though?"

He let's out a deep breath, wondering if he should ask you about the arrangement you both had, on one hand he didn't want to come across as some kind of degenerate looking for nearest and quick fuck and on the other hand, he rubbed his cock raw with your face in his mind.

You watch him closely, his face getting more constipated with each second. "When are we gonna continue that?" He blurts eventually, facing heating up as you continue to stare at him in confusion.

"Continue what?"

He groans, hands coming to rub his temple, he contemplated running away in that moment, at least he knows you still haven't figured out what he is asking for, he takes his chance, "You know, showing each other..." His voice quietens towards the end of his sentence, although you instantly understand what he was asking, you still tilt your head in faux confusion, furrowing your eyebrows to emphasize your non existent dilemma.

"Ugh!" He grunts, "I want to see your cunt!" He almost yelled, instantly cringing and wondering if someone outside the office may have heard him.

You press your lips towards, trying and failing to stifle a laugh, the giggle escapes, "Jeez, Suki, way to be subtle." You tease him a little, enjoying his flustered appearance.

"Don't," he sucks in a deep breath, "don't fucking bring it up."

"I am free tonight." You put him out of his misery, showing him the light at the end of a dark tunnel and eventually your pussy.

His nods his head, not meeting your eyes, "I'll pick you up at 7." Before he brisks out the office.

-----

It's almost 9 pm when you get done with dinner, something bakugou insisted he cooks for you before you both perform step 2 of body exploration project, it warmed your heart a little, warmed your pussy alot.

Despite all the teasing you put him through while he cooked, you were the one dripping, excited to finally see him.

He snarls, face scrunched up as he examines you sitting criss crossed on him bed, face supported by your hands as you waited for him to strip, "Why the fuck do I strip down while you stay clothed?" He argued, arms crossed.

You scoff, leaning back on your elbows, "If I remember correctly," you cock your head slightly, "I took my shirt off last time, so fairly you should be next," you wave around your hand, gesturing towards him legs, "so pants off, peaches."

He gets your point, but that doesn't really help his situation, he slowly strips off his pants then his underwear, he was hard, had been hard for weeks now, the vivid images of you, making his cock drool with precum.

He watches your reaction, the widening of your eyes, how they locked on his dick making it twitch, the slight parting of your lips, he hopes it's good enough for you, "Done oogling?" He snarls, trying to hide his nervousness, "whore." He spits out, it's harmless, not even an insult you know it too.

"For you, always." You wink at him cheekily, teasing smile painted in your face, as you crawl over to the end of the bed, coming in to take a closer look. "Do you mind sitting down, I kinda wanna see it from all angles."

"Ehh! The fuck do you mean see from all angles." He groans, every second with your eyes on him, pushing him closer to shooting his load, he is scared that he'll end up spraying without touching his cock.

"Wanna observe it Suki," You looked up at him from where you kneeled on the bed, "Can I touch you?" You ask, mouth watering at the sight of him, he sure did clean shave everything, he nods his head in response, too shocked to say anything else, "Words Suki, say it out load." You mean it as consent, he follows it like a command.

"Yes, fucking touch me," he groans when your hands instantly come to hold his waist, swaying slightly as you get close enough, that he feels your breath on his skin.

"It's really pretty, Suki" You examine him, dainty fingers coming to wrap around the base of his cock, he stutters, hips bucking forward unconsciously, you hear him mumble out an apology, his hand pressed up against his mouth, to stop the moans from leaking out.

It however can't stop the leaking of his cock, precum oozes out, it's thick, you could mistake it for come, "Is it always this wet?" You queried, thumbing at his slit, pinching your fingers together, his pre stringing.

"Shut. Up." He whined, before thick cum shoots out if his cock, you are fast enough to not let it get in your eye, but not fast enough to stop it from landing on your lips and lower.

Everything stills for a moment, you stare ahead, at his cock, your hand still wrapped around his base as he continues to twitch. He can't meet your eyes anymore. He thinks it's all over, that you'll realise what a loser he is, what he doesn't expect is for you to lick away at you thumb, fingers moving to collect more cum as you clean away all of it.

You catch is expression, "What?" You pout, "It's part of the exploration," you clean the remaining strings with your t-shirt before pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side.

He stood still, processing what just happened, he dick still twitching as he finally moved to kneel between your legs, hands slowly coming to rest on your thighs.

"Excited to see my pussy, Suki?" You voice is low, mind hazy with his fingers so close to your cunt, you lift your legs, pulling off your short, plain white panties coming into the view something you chose for the night.

"It's so fucking wet." His hand moved to the back of your thighs, lifting them slightly, as he stared at the almost see through spot.

"It's cause of you." Your speech is little slurred, words coming out slow as your brain tried to imagine what he would feel like against your hard little clit.

"I better fix it then."

Oh, how the tables were suddenly turned.

Divider by @/diviniyae

[xoxorory]

Always With You

— Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader Fanfic Genre: Humor | Fluff | Universe: Percy Jackson & The Olympians Word Count: ~3.2K (I'M SUCH A YAPPER LOL) Requested:@simpingmyassoff

Rumors Suck.

Camp Half-Blood had two guarantees:

A monster attack at the worst possible time.

Gossip spreading faster than an Hermes kid stealing your wallet.

I usually didn’t give a damn about rumors. People talked all the time, whispering nonsense about quests, secret romances, or how I once beat a kid from Ares’ cabin in an arm-wrestling match. (That one was true, by the way). Most of the time, I either laughed them off or, if they annoyed me enough, handled the situation… directly.

But this time? The rumor was about me. And worse? It actually got to me.

—"You’re, like, way too clingy with Jackson," a girl from Aphrodite’s cabin had said, twirling her hair with fake innocence. —"Like, it’s a little embarrassing to watch," another added, voice dripping with fake sympathy. —"If you keep it up, he’s totally gonna get tired of you and, y’know… want space."

I had laughed in their faces, of course. That was my natural defense mechanism. But now… I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

What if they were right?

Operation: Be Less Clingy (And Probably Die)

I decided to test their theory.

For the first time in forever, I didn’t steal Percy’s hoodie in the morning. I didn’t drape myself over him during sword-fighting practice. I didn’t sneak my hand into his when we walked together. I didn’t—gods help me—hug him like an octopus every chance I got.

And it was… awful.

I felt like a smoker trying to quit cold turkey. Every time I saw Percy, my body physically wanted to reach for him, to mess with his hair, to poke his stupid sea-green eyes, to wrap myself around him like I always did.

But nope.

I had self-control.

I had boundaries.

I was so freaking miserable.

Percy Notices. Obviously.

Percy was a dumbass sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid.

By day three of Operation: Be a Distant, Independent Woman Who Definitely Wasn’t Dying Inside, he had clearly caught on.

Normally, I would find him first thing in the morning, steal his stolen coffee (yes, double theft), and make fun of his bedhead. Instead, I stayed in my cabin, hoping he wouldn’t notice my absence.

But of course, Percy Jackson noticed.

—"Since when did you go full emo?" His voice startled me as I sat on the dock, dipping my feet into the lake.

I sighed. Of course he found me.

—"Go away, Jackson."

—"Nope."

He plopped down beside me and bumped my shoulder, expecting me to shove him back like I always did.

I didn’t.

Silence.

I could feel him staring at me.

—"Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to cause a scene?"

I sighed again, staring at my reflection in the water.

—"I just… thought maybe I should give you some space."

Percy frowned.

—"Space? Why the hell would I want that?"

I hesitated.

—"Because maybe I’m too clingy."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Percy laughed. Loudly.

I punched his arm—hard.

—"I’m serious, dumbass!"

He was still grinning, his stupid adorable face glowing with amusement.

—"Babe, love of my life, my antisocial sea monster—if you were too clingy, don’t you think I would’ve told you by now?"

I bit my lip.

—"Well… they said—"

—"They?" Percy’s expression darkened. "Who put that nonsense in your head?"

I hesitated, but he already knew. His jaw clenched, and I swear I saw his fingers twitch like he was ready to summon Riptide and go on a murder spree.

Hot. But beside the point.

Percy turned to me, grabbing my face between his hands.

—"Listen carefully, because I’m only saying this once. You are my favorite person in this entire camp. If it were up to me, you’d be stuck to me like a damn remora 24/7."

My brain short-circuited.

—"...Really?"

He nodded, seriously.

—"Actually… now that you mention it, I have been feeling kinda abandoned." He sighed dramatically. "Where are my hugs? My spontaneous kisses? My surprise attacks of affection?"

I stared at him, my heart doing stupid things.

—"You don’t get tired of me?"

He grinned.

—"Never."

And just like that, the weight on my chest vanished.

Without thinking, I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms and legs around him in the octopus hug I had desperately missed.

—"There’s my koala!" Percy laughed, holding me effortlessly.

—"Shut up," I muttered into his neck.

He just chuckled, running his hand through my hair.

—"That’s more like it."

Karma Comes Fast (and I Enjoy It Too Much)

Look. I’m not a vindictive person.

But when someone messes with me? Whatever.

When someone messes with me and Percy?

They better start praying.

The next day, I noticed the same Aphrodite girls lurking around, watching us like hawks, probably waiting to see if I’d go back to keeping my distance.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

But Percy? He had an even better idea.

As they walked past, he spoke just loud enough for them to hear:

—"You know,babe, I think we should spend more time together. Maybe start sleeping in the same cabin."

I barely held back a laugh.

—"Isn’t that against the rules?" I asked, playing along.

Percy shrugged.

—"Since when do we care about rules?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw the girls freeze. One of them actually gasped.

I lived for this.

But Percy wasn’t done.

He turned to them, voice dripping with petty revenge.

—"Oh, by the way," he said, smirking. "You know what’s funny? People who never had a chance with me acting like they get a say in my relationship."

They paled. One of them choked on her own spit. Then they scurried off, whispering frantically.

I turned to him, thoroughly impressed.

—"That was evil, Jackson."

He grinned.

—"They messed with my girl. Now they know what happens when someone tries to get between us."

I smirked, yanking him closer by the collar.

—"You know what?" I murmured. "I am clingy."

He grinned before kissing me.

—"Good. Never change."

I'm such a yapper lol. I actually had this one hald written already LOLL

[observingfantasy]

The Price of Deceit

~ Shadow Milk Cookie redemption fic

Okay sooooo, ever since I saw this fanart from @frenchiefieart the brainworms refused to let me be. Questions like 'How did it come to this?' and 'What might happen after?' kept me from sleeping, so I wrote a one-shot. Which then kinda escalated...

I'm unsure about publishing my work in general, but I put far too much effort into that first chapter, and it still kinda works as a one-shot, so... here we go.🤷🏻‍♀️

Please go look at frienchiefie's absolutely gorgeous piece of art before reading. The first three lines of dialog are entirely stolen from her artwork, and the visual context really helps with the immersion. (@frenchiefieart if this kind of usage is not okay with you, please let me know and I'll change it. I never wanted to steel your ideas in any way.)

Chapter 1: Desparation

"Nilly, please, don't let them do this."

No reaction.

"You love all cookies, right? A-and we spent some time together. It wasn't all bad… was it?"

Still nothing.

"Pure Vanilla, please, look at me. I-I can't go back there. I'm not ready to disappear."

Shadow Milk was just straight-up begging at this point—he had no other options left. He was aching all over, bleeding from multiple wounds—the worst of which was unfortunately on his head, dripping blood into his eyes and making thinking more difficult than it really had to be.

"How dare you speak to him like that! Like he hasn’t already given you more chances than you ever deserved! Like you didn’t spit in his face again and again! Like you didn’t twist his kindness just to break his heart!"

Ohh, she was furious—the Guardian of the Silver Tree. Protective of her best friend and still mad at him for killing Elder Fairy. Time had done nothing to dull her fury, not through the long, chaotic years of war that followed.

Shadow Milk would be embarrassed later—about the way he flinched at every word, how he scrambled backward despite the sharp ache in his limbs. But right now, all that mattered was putting as much space as possible between himself and the cookie he probably feared the most.

He couldn't go back into that tree. He couldn't.

He would survive it—he always did. The Beasts were immortal, their magic living on even when their bodies perished. But what would be left of his mind after another century in isolation? After a millennium? An eternity?

He didn't want to find out.

But the choice wasn’t his to make. The heroes were closing in, their weapons still raised, their expressions grim.

"Please, I..."

He was still looking at his counterpart, still trying to get the other to just look at him. With his own eyes or with his staff, Shadow Milk would take whatever he could get at this point. But Pure Vanilla kept his eyes resolutely closed, both his staff and his body half-turned away from his beaten foe. Yet as long as he didn't turn away fully, there still was a chance. There had to be.

Despite what everyone might think now, Shadow Milk was well aware that he didn't deserve mercy. Or another chance. And especially not forgiveness. But Pure Vanilla knew that—and had offered him a hand over and over anyway.

Once, Shadow Milk had taken it. He had pretended, smiled, played along—a game of keeping just enough truth in his words to make his lies believable. And all the while, he had spread his influence in the shadows. With the help of his faithful minions, he had worked to crumble the very foundation of the Vanilla Republic, his counterpart had built atop the ruins of his kingdom.

And Pure Vanilla had known.

Not everything. Not the full extent. But he had seen the cracks forming, had watched as trust faltered. Had looked at Shadow Milk and saw all the lies tangled between the truths.

And still, he had reached out. Had tried to show Shadow Milk there was another way.

And the jester, oblivious to just how much Pure Vanilla really knew, had kept going. Let the rumors fester, let small wounds deepen into permanent scars. Had whispered into uncertain ears, let doubt take root where it hurt the most—between friends, between families, between those who had always stood side by side. And by the time Pure Vanilla finally acted, the damage had already been done. Friendships shattered. Councils divided. Some wounds only emotional��some far worse.

And when Pure Vanilla finally confronted him about all that, and Shadow Milk learned that the other had known but waited—had held onto the hope that there could be a peaceful solution—the jester had laughed. At his own stupidity and Vanilla's alike. Until he saw the look in his counterpart's eyes.

Betrayal, disappointment, and hurt, morphing into something harder. A determination so cold he never would have thought the compassionate healer capable of it.

That look had never left Shadow Milk’s mind since. Even now, after years of war, it surfaced in the quiet moments, in every retreat that followed, in the hollow ache he refused to name. Because that had been the last time Pure Vanilla had reached out his hand.

And now, as Shadow Milk cowered before him once more, he knew there would be no hand this time. No warmth. No kindness. Only that cold determination and resentment, where once had been hope.

"Nilla… Nilla, please... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry…"

He choked out between sobs he couldn't hold back any longer, as Pure Vanilla showed no signs of hearing him at all, while the other heroes were slowly closing in.

"White Lily, let's get this over with," Dark Cacao said with a finality that made his heart race.

He was running out of time. He couldn't stop himself from slowly scrambling away further, nor could he repress the absolutely pathetic whimper that tore from his throat. He was hyperventilating so badly he couldn't even form the words to try and convince them to stop. To give him another chance. To do anything but this...

Not that they would listen anyway. That was always the problem of the liars—no one believed them when they were telling the truth. But right now he just had to make them believe—somehow.

With his back against a wall and no escape, his desperate gaze fell onto Pure Vanilla once again. And when the ancient Light of Truth slightly turned his staff to look at him one last time, the former Virtue of Knowledge had one last, absolutely desperate idea.

"Wait! Please!"

When everyone paused for a heartbeat, Shadow Milk seized the moment to tear the Soul Jam of Deceit from his chest and extend it towards his other half.

Everyone froze. For a moment, the only sound that could be heard in the giant arena—where the fight between the last Beast and the heroes had taken place—was Shadow Milk Cookie's heavy breathing.

Well, at least he still knew how to capture an audience.

Shadow definitely had Vanilla’s attention now.

"What…?"

The question was soft, incredulous. Shadow Milk couldn’t blame him. He could barely believe it himself. His hand trembled, the weight of his Soul Jam unbearable in his palm.

"T-Take it."

His voice was shaking even worse than his hand. He swallowed, trying to steady himself, but his throat felt tight and his breathing was labored.

"Do…" He hesitated, forcing the words out past the lump in his throat. "Do w-whatever you need to… do with it."

Crack it, break it, disintegrate it—anything but this.

"But please, don’t…" He choked on his own horror again, but forced himself to finish the damn sentence before it swallowed him whole.

"Don’t seal me away again. Please."

Silent tears were uncontrollably falling down his face at this point, as he waited for Pure Vanilla to please just accept his offer. It was the only thing he had left.

The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain. And Shadow Milk realized he wasn’t the only one waiting. None of the other heroes moved to take the Soul Jam. Instead, they stood frozen, their gazes shifting between him and Pure Vanilla—some uncertain, some shocked, others expectant.

Finally, Pure Vanilla’s hesitation hardened into something like grim resolve. His jaw tightened. His shoulders squared. Then, without a word, he stepped forward and took the Soul Jam from Shadow Milk’s trembling hands.

It took every ounce of willpower not to recoil, not to clutch his most precious possession to his chest like a lifeline.

There was something dark in Pure Vanilla’s gaze—something final. Whatever fleeting hope Shadow Milk might have clung to shattered the moment their eyes met. And yet… behind the cold determination, there was regret. An apology. For what?

"I'm sorry. I wish it wouldn't have had to come to this."

Then, without another moment for Shadow to comprehend what the hero was going to do, bright shards of light pierced his Soul Jam of Deceit and Darkness, shattering it in an instant.

It was pain unlike anything Shadow Milk had ever known. Worse than when the witches had originally split his Soul Jam in two. Back then, they had cleanly sliced away the part that he had been rejecting anyway. Now, Pure Vanilla's light mercilessly carved into the deepest, darkest part of his soul and watched his everything shatter into a million pieces.

The pain was blinding, suffocating, all-consuming. He hoped desperately that he had been mistaken—that he wouldn’t survive this. That maybe his soul was so inextricably bound to that gem that its shattering meant true annihilation. Death would be mercy. No matter what kind of punishment awaited him in the afterlife, it couldn't be worse than this.

When the light finally retreated, the pain faded—slowly, agonizingly. Which probably meant that he was still alive. That was the only realization Shadow Milk could grasp right now. His body still ached all over—worse than before. His very essence had been ripped apart. Shredded. He couldn’t feel anything but pain. Couldn't hear, see, or smell anything at all.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Maybe he was? He couldn’t tell.

Then, there were hands. Touching him. It hurt. Moving him. That hurt even worse.

Wasn't he suffering enough? (No.) Did they really have to keep hurting him? (Yes. He deserved it. He would finally get what he deserved.)

His body had nothing left to give.

The last thing Shadow Milk felt was a hand on his forehead before everything dissolved into sweet oblivion, and he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

[rook-laidir]

Banter Time!

~

Emmrich: Rook, have you been taking Manfred to The Hilt?

Rook: Not recently. I’ve been teaching him some Wicked Grace, though.

Emmrich: Ah. That explains it.

Rook: Explains what?

Emmrich: Manfred has taken to placing buttons on the table whenever I place my notecards down.

Rook: Aw! He knows how to gamble! Wanna show the rest of the Lords what you know, buddy?

Manfred: (Excited hiss)

Emmrich: (Sighs)

~

Rook: Are all of the Mourn Watch mages?

Emmrich: A great deal of them are necromancers, but we have plenty of watchers whose talents lie outside of magical abilities. Are you looking to join? I’d be happy to put in a good word for you.

Rook: No. Definitely not. I’m perfectly happy above ground.

~

Rook: Hypothetical question: How hard do you think I could hit someone with your little monster carvings?

Davrin: Don’t you have arrows?

Rook: I could run out of arrows.

Davrin: You’re telling me that if you run out of arrows, your first instinct is going to be throwing a wooden carving of a hurlock at whatever we’re fighting.

Rook: I just like to keep my options open. Besides, it would be at least my third instinct.

~

Davrin: I got word from Antoine and Evka. They need us in Hossberg to talk about those samples you collected.

Rook: (Groans)

Davrin: You still have to go.

Rook: I know, it’s just…

Davrin: Cold, blighted, and gross?

Rook: And wet, don’t forget wet.

Davrin: It is the Wetlands.

Rook: Next time, can we find the drylands? The warm lands? The “cold drinks and a nap” lands?

Davrin: I’ll see what Harding finds along the way.

~

Rook: Did you make me hot chocolate earlier?

Neve: Who says it was me?

Rook: Well…It was kinda…

Neve: That bad?

Rook: It’s the thought that counts.

~

Neve: Ashur asked for you the other day. One of the freed slaves the Shadow Dragons are harboring, she only speaks Rivaini.

Rook: I can translate.

Neve: We’d owe you one.

Rook: At this point, I think we owe each other enough to call it even. But I wouldn’t say no to some dinner.

Neve: I’ll bring some fish from Hal’s.

~

Harding: I think I’m gonna head over to the Hall of Valor later.

Rook: You ok? You seem kind of out of it.

Harding: Yeah, I’m ok. I just…need to hit some things.

Rook: I get it.

~

Rook: So what’s up with all the hands in Arlathan?

Bellara: What do you mean?

Rook: There are hand statues everywhere.

Bellara: Most of them were originally attached to bigger statues. Ones with bodies:

Rook: I bet the guy the big one was attached to was pretty hand-some.

Bellara: I knew I shouldn’t have asked.

~

Taash: Drinks at The Hilt later?

Rook: Who’s buying?

Taash: Whoever loses worse to Isabela at Wicked Grace.

Rook: You’re on.

~

Spite: Smells like oranges and chocolates. Fear and fury.

Rook: Is Spite saying I need a bath?

Lucanis: Ignore him.

[briarberrythornedhart]

Strange Benefits Package

Contains: flatmate/friends to more than that, love confession, a first kiss, fluff.

It’s not that apartments in Hawkin’s, Indiana in the early 90’s weren't affordable.

They were.

But you were searching for work. And Eddie, who had a steady if soul crushing job, kept getting apartment applications rejected for no good reason.

So it was perfect that you met and were instantly such good friends. You could apply for the charming 2 bedroom/1 bath, above Melvalds.

He could easily pay the 2 months down and application fee.

And then you could pay him back when you got a job. You could live together as flat-mates and figure it out as you go. That was the plan.

🦇 🎁 🦇

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked. But he probably knew. Or... suspected anyway.

“Braiding your hair. Again. Don’t worry, I’ll unbraid it. It’s just so soothing for me.” You explained.

Eddie had put on a movie and was settling in to watch it and drink a beer and forget about the horrors of work.

But you had gotten onto the couch and pushed his hip with your foot till he moved forward and made room for you to sit behind him on the couch back. Your legs were on either side of him, your knees were gently pressed against his arms, holding him still.

He grabbed one of your socked feet.

“If you pull my hair, or make me look stupid, I get to tickle you...” He warned.

“Totally fair.” You agreed. “But...Princess, don’t you think I'll be gentle with you? Aren’t I always?”

“Here we go again.” Eddie twisted his body to look up at you. His eyes were narrowed. “ Pray explain, why the hell you keep calling me that?”

“Because you are.” You kissed his forehead over his bangs. He turned red and turned away again. “You are the prettiest, most gentle, most kind and accomplished and sweet princess to ever live. All should kneel at your feet and bring you tokens of their admiration and generally worship the ground you walk on.” He laughed quietly and shook his head - which caused you to lose your hold on his silken curly hair.

You combed your fingers through it again and lightly scratched his scalp. Eddie shivered. He gripped both your ankles.

“C’mon. You would never kneel at my feet.” He said.

“I would too. I’ll get right on that as soon as I’m done here... Princess.” you promised.

“Just... please don’t call me ‘Princess’ in front of the band. Or at game night. Or with ANYONE else. I’m begging you here. I get enough shit from the guys as it is. If the Sinclair’s start calling me princess, I’ll...” He trailed off and moaned softly. You had started unbraiding and were massaging his scalp a little harder.

“You’ll what?” You asked.

“Mmmmm....? What was I saying?”

“What will you do to me, Your majesty? What terrible punishments will you mete out on my foolish mortal body.” You leaned around to catch his eyes.

You saw Eddie swallow - his adam's apple bobbing on his long pretty throat.

He licked his lips.

“We should probably establish some rules... as roommates and friends ... this i-is... it’s bordering on torture.”

“What? You don’t like me playing with your hair?”

“I like it a little too much.” Eddie sighed and lowered his head into his hands. You could hear him but a lot of words were muffled to the point of intelligibility through his palms. “You (???) feel too (???) and talking like (???) don’t want (???) cross any (???) friend (???)” He looked up. “and scare you away.”

“I didn’t catch all of that but - I don’t scare easily.” You went back to playing with his hair. One of your favorite things to do.

Eddie’s voice was pitched up and cracking a bit. “I really like living here with you like this. But... sorta feel like I’m getting a lot of the perks of ... like... dating?? This,” Here he gestured at the very little distance between you, “ doesn’t feel like the standard friend package. Buckley says we are almost like friends with benefits, but we aren’t you know doing it with each other... I kinda want to know what you are getting out of all this.”

“That sounds oddly transactional. I’m very happy living with you like this.” It was all Great perks all around - you wished he was interested in more benefits, honestly You felt a bit of guilt though. “I will pay rent as soon as I can.”

He gestured dismissal of that concern. “No-no-no - I know that. We can figure that out. I mean, everyone’s been asking me what’s up with us. Everyone’s been asking me if we are together. And maybe this is just how affectionate you are - and how I am - and - and doesn’t mean more, but...” His pretty eyes looked so worried.

You touched his lips. “How ‘bout you just let me love you and stop worrying about what everyone else thinks.”

“You love me??” Eddie slid off the couch and knelt at your feet. He looked up at you with his eyes wide. “Seriously?”

You nodded yes, although you’d only just figured that out.

Just Now.

You did.

You loved this perfect princess. “It’s okay you donnnn’...” You started to say, but he cut you off with a kiss that melted your insides.

“We can figure that out.” Eddie said, and leaned toward you for more.

[hanjist]

3 boys.

content - non-idol!hyunjin. fem!reader. non-idol!chan feature. non-idol!changbin feature. non-idol!felix feature. smut. angst.

warnings - hook up culture kinda. break ups. quickie. public sex. piv no protection.

word count - 691.

a/n - inspired by 3 boys by omar apollo. i got broken up w by my ex a few weeks ago so this song rlly hit me and i decided to write to cope. also despite the lyrics of the song being intentions of poly, im taking them to a different meaning instead lol. not proof read.

thoughts of a third make me weak.

yet when it comes to you with three other guys, hyunjin couldn’t care less. he wanted you to move on, so you did.

you thought you did.

it started with your coworker at the grocery store, chan. he was lean, muscular, and average height if you really wanted to think about that aspect. you needed a rebound, nobody else perfect than chan.

small makeout sessions in the break room became intense quickies in the handicap stall of the employee bathroom.

“come on y/n… take me to the hilt.”

your body pressed against the stall door, right cheek to the cold door, arms pressed against it to keep you stable as chan’s grip against your waist gets tighter each time he slams into your core.

it just felt so good, but so wrong. it wasn’t hyunjin.

“fuck, gonna cum. what about y-you…”

chan groans into your ear. you keep quiet.

in his attempt to pull out, he leaves a trail of his seed from your pussy, to the tile floor, and to your back.

“…did you…uh?”

you kept silent once again, just shaking your head.

chan realized after. he knew it wouldn’t work if you weren’t enjoying it.

it was only awkward shifts together from there on.

changbin was your friends friend. they set you up with him in hopes you had finally gotten over your ex.

“so, what’s your favorite movie?”

you stirred the straw around the edges of your cup, watching the ice swirl.

“hm, i don’t really know. i don’t like movies…”

a sigh escaped your lips as rested your face against your palm. you eyes drifted up from your drink to catch a glance at changbin, who was looking for the nearest exit at this point.

“you know y/n, i don’t think you should be wasting anyone’s time if you aren’t interested in getting with anybody else yet.”

with his hands folded on the table, changbin’s annoyed face burns into your mind.

“i don’t think this will work out, let’s just get the check.”

your lips press together as changbin speaks, his words reminding you of the last thing hyunjin said to you when he ended your relationship. getting up from your seat without another glance, you leave changbin alone at the table.

felix was the nicest of them all. he was comforting —something the other guys couldn’t even attempt to be.

his soft lips brushed against yours, so gentle. the familiar ache you had buried deep down came back again. he was nothing like hyunjin, he didn’t kiss like hyunjin. yet it was so identical, so perfect.

you backed away from him abruptly as the realization hit you suddenly. turning your body away from him as you shiver from holding your tears, a lump in your throat forming.

you feel felix’s hand lightly rest on your shoulder, in which you end up sobbing, unable to hold it in anymore.

“it’s okay, let it out.”

he grabs you by your waist to pull you closer to him, hugging you with your back against his chest. he rocks you gently, one of his hands moving the hair out of your face.

“shh… it’s okay y/n.”

his comforting presence just made you feel so weak. you didn’t want to do this to him, but how could you stop yourself if you couldn’t stop yourself from loving hyunjin?

“i-im sorry… i didn’t want to put you in t-this position and—”

“shh. it’s okay. i understand.”

he gives you a tight squeeze. his lips brushing your ear to whisper,

“maybe it’s time you attempt to talk to him again.”

you: i can’t get over you

you: can we please talk

you: i just need closure

seen.

left on seen again? how could he do this to you?

you: hyunjin

you: please just talk to me

hyunjin: y/n stop. you need to move on. you know i want you to.

you: can we talk in person please

hyunjin: we both know that’s not good for you. i’ll send jisung to talk to you or something

you: no

you: i want to see you

hyunjin: bye y/n

[sturnsblogs]

SICK DAY

—

You woke up feeling like absolute shit. Your head was pounding, your throat felt raw, and your entire body ached like you had just run a marathon in the middle of a thunderstorm. Every little noise, every flicker of light from your phone screen—it all pissed you off.

The last thing you wanted to do was get out of bed. Normally, you’d drag yourself out for your usual morning coffee, but today? No. Fuck that. Today, you were staying right here, wrapped up in your blankets, silently wishing for death.

But of course, Chris noticed.

The second you didn’t show up for your usual coffee—something you had never once skipped—he knew something was wrong. And instead of just texting like a normal person, he immediately threw on his hoodie, ran out the door, and hit three different stores to get everything he thought you might need.

Now, standing in your bedroom doorway, slightly out of breath and struggling with three overstuffed bags in his hands, he nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside.

“Hi, sweetheart…” Chris greeted softly, his voice full of concern as he set the bags down. He walked toward your bed, adjusting his glasses as he scanned the blanket-covered mess that was you. “You okay? You didn’t show up this morning, and I texted, but you didn’t answer, so I kinda panicked a little, and I thought maybe you just overslept, but then I figured—”

“Chris,” you groaned, barely cracking an eye open as you cut him off. Your voice was raspy, irritated. “It’s one morning. You panicked?”

Chris frowned, crouching beside your bed, his fingers brushing your forehead before you could flinch away. His lips pressed into a thin line as he felt your warmth. “Yeah, well… you don’t just skip coffee. Ever. I knew something was wrong.”

You groaned louder, rolling over to face away from him. “I feel like shit.”

Chris sighed, sitting beside you. “Yeah, I figured.” Then, with way too much enthusiasm, he clapped his hands together. “Good thing I came prepared!”

You groaned again, pulling the blanket over your head like that would somehow make him disappear.

“First,” he announced, pulling out a bottle of cough syrup, “actual medicine. The good kind.”

You scoffed. “Chris, all medicine is disgusting.”

“Not the point,” he countered, shaking the bottle. “You have to take it.”

You groaned dramatically. “I hate this day.”

Chris chuckled, tugging the blanket down just enough to reveal your face again. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before reaching into the next bag. “Okay, next up—a heating pad.”

“For what?” you grumbled.

He gave you a pointed look. “For the sickness cramps you always get.”

You squinted at him, irritated that he was right. “…I hate that you know me so well.”

Chris smirked. “I love that I know you so well.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically. “Fine. What else?”

Chris grinned, reaching into the last bag and dramatically pulling out a giant tub of your favorite ice cream.

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you bribing me?”

Chris smirked. “Maybe.”

You stared at the tub, considering your options. “…Hand me the damn spoon.”

Chris laughed, handing it over. “You are so moody when you’re sick, love.”

You took a slow bite, your throat still burning. “And you talk too much.”

Chris smiled, shaking his head. “You know, I think this is the meanest you’ve ever been to me.”

You deadpanned. “Be so for real right now.”

Chris just smirked. But then, his expression softened as he watched you struggle through another small bite, clearly exhausted and miserable. He reached over, rubbing your back gently.

“You’re gonna feel better soon, angel,” he murmured. “I promise.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, finally starting to feel some comfort when Chris suddenly spoke again.

“Do you wanna take a bath?”

You peeked at him from under the blanket. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

Chris shrugged, unfazed. “A warm bath might help. It could relax your muscles, clear your sinuses—”

You groaned, dramatically flopping onto your stomach. “That sounds like so much effort.”

Chris laughed, rubbing your back again. “You wouldn’t have to do anything, baby. I’d help you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “If this is some weird nerd way of trying to get me naked—”

Chris immediately turned bright red. “Sweetheart!” he sputtered, looking personally offended. “It’s not—oh my God. I meant it in a totally innocent way! I just—” He sighed, shaking his head before giving you a soft look. “I just wanna help you feel better.”

You groaned again, hiding your face in the pillow. “…Fine.”

Chris grinned. “Good.”

Before you could change your mind, he got up and went to your bathroom, turning on the water, making sure it was warm but not too hot. He even grabbed some of your favorite bath products, pouring them in to make it extra soothing.

You slowly dragged yourself out of bed, standing in the doorway as you watched him fuss over the water. He tested it with his hand before looking over at you with a small smile. “Come here, love.”

You huffed but walked over anyway. Chris helped you sit on the edge of the tub before gently tugging at the hem of your oversized hoodie.

“Arms up, baby,” he murmured.

You glared at him. “This is so embarrassing.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’ve literally seen you drooling in your sleep.”

You gasped. “I do not drool!”

Chris smirked. “Sure, love.”

You scowled, but let him pull the hoodie off, shivering slightly as the cold air hit your skin. Chris was so gentle, helping you step into the water, making sure you were comfortable before kneeling beside the tub.

“See?” he murmured, reaching for a cup. “Not so bad, huh?”

You sighed, letting your eyes close. “…I guess.”

Chris chuckled before filling the cup and slowly pouring the warm water over your shoulders. “Better?”

You hummed. “Mhm.”

Chris smiled, running his hand gently along your arm, his touch warm and comforting. He brushed your damp hair away from your face and leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

After he helped you get out and wrapped you in a warm towel, he helped you into your softest hoodie and sweatpants, tucking you back into bed.

“You’re all cozy now, sweetheart,” he whispered, pulling the blankets up.

You yawned, already exhausted again, but grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie before he could leave.

Chris looked down, amused. “You okay, baby?”

You hesitated before mumbling, “Stay. Just until I fall asleep.”

Chris melted immediately. “Of course, love.”

And as he tucked himself in beside you, pulling you close, you finally let yourself relax, knowing that if anyone was going to take care of you, it would always be Chris.

—

A/N- yes?

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @slvtme0utt @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill

[bellesdomain]

I find them very shallow. They're flashy, yes, very, almost painfully shiny - to the point where any details are lost. All the "champion Engines" blend together because they're all just irridescent blocks.

There's *ALMOST* no story telling. The thing I LOVE about costume design is how much a costume can tell you about a character - John Napier's work is absolute genius, but good costumes in any media are awesome - an older lady in a fine gown that's the fashion of her youth, is the same as "Mom Jeans" today. Give a character fine rich fabrics that are dirty and torn - they don't care about their appearance and have money to burn. But a character with old, worn out, but neat and clean clothes, is someone who is trying their best to get by with a very tight budget.

My favourite non-John Napier costume is from Wicked...

Elphaba's "I'm Not That Girl" costume is this white blazer thrown over her regular school uniform. It's neatly tailored, it's not extravagant, but it usually has a small flower pattern to the fabric. It's not something Elphaba would EVER choose for herself - Galinda took her shopping. And it's no hand-me-down from Galinda, it's far too understated for Galinda's style. It's something they went and found - or had tailored - together. Just that jacket tells us so much about their friendship, that Galinda is truly looking out for Elphaba and not just plastering her favourite things onto her.

So like... GOOD costume design is amazing.

Gabriella Slade's work for the Wembley production has.... 1% of what I expected. Which is even worse than 0%! There's a very few small bits of relating to the real world - for example, Dinah has a typical "Diner" red and white check. Slick has yellow and black "Warning sign" patterns. But Tassita has nothing to tell you about them. Greaseball has nothing.

There's no consistency to the designs - with the fact there's a couple of small nods to relating to the real world, but the vast majority is just colours and shapes.

Why does Pearl have boobs? She's the youngest and newest character, and she has a defined bust. Absolutely nobody else has a bust - only the youngest girl does. I find that super creepy. Boobs are not sexusal - they're simply there when you've got enough estrogen and progesterone going round your body. It's not inappropriate to cater to the fact that half the population gets them! (also looking at you, 2018 John Napier designs.....)

One thing I will give Gabriella Slade, at least she avoided the "toilet door gendering" that the 2018 costumes have - "girls wear skirts, that's how you know they're girls" is so frustrating. Except Momma kinda falls into this with her.... skirty coat thing.

There's some ideas in there that are "Yes but..." for me.... I like the idea of the logos, the symbols. But why are there some letters, some images? Why does the most iconic symbol - 5 pointed STAR for STARlight Express, go to "Golden Eagle" who - SURELY - should have an eagle as his icon? I took forever trying to work out what "Silver Bullet"'s icon was - then I remembered he was originally called "Grey Wolf", and it's a wolf claw. Why did that not get updated? Why are almost all the logos circular except a couple?

Is there any colour theory going on? Hydra is green, that's logical. Rusty had to be orange. Why is Electra such a subdued silver? Why are Dinah and Tassita almost- but not quite- the same colours? Why is Tassita in a loud, complementary colour combination? the QUIET car is in LOUD colours?

Thinking of coaches, looping back to Pearl and cleavage... One could argue that they are strongly trying to avoid objectifying the female characters. But why then, do we have random cutouts in the costumes? Why is Dinah's stomach exposed, why the inner thighs exposed? (they're not actually bare skin, there's strong mesh covering the holes, but the DESIGN is for "flesh" to be visible) But why are we suggesting that these characters have bare skin and easily identifiable "underwear" shapes?

Dinah's costume in particular is anti-flattering - her big chunky arms, the curves cutting across her bust deliberately obscure her natural shape. Then she has a feature zip suggesting she's very easy to undress... was that the intention?

It feels like Gabriella Slade was given the instruction "NO BOOBS!" but still wanted to find ways to make the coaches feel a bit more mature... exposed... on display... They made a lot of compromises on NOT including any sort of necklines, and then to have the "bare" areas undermines that.

Then practical concerns... the backpacks with handles - centre of gravity. John Napier's designs put the handles on the belt. If someone is losing balance and grabs a handle that's on a belt, they're pulling low on the centre of gravity, the other person is far less likely to lose their balance too compared to if they're tugged on the shoulders. Just as well they don't really get up to any speed, so accidents are less likely.

A lot of the shiny materials used are somewhat experimental - at least in the context of 8 shows a week for month after month. Close-ups show they're not wearing well, if you catch sight beyond the bright reflective lights they're looking very shabby indeed. That wouldn't be a problem with a big budget and frequent replacement parts coming in, but... that doesn't seem to be happening.

Let me find some more positive things to say... the Components are suitably related to Electra, just about different enough from them to tell the principal role from the ensemble, and the fact they're almost impossible to tell apart does make sense. Boring but logical. Also, I genuinely appreciate there's nothing to indicate gender between the Champion Engines. They're just different heights, no "THIS one's a GIRL!"

Overall they're just really shallow. It's like an AI prompt to create something "that looks like it came from Starlight Express". There's nothing deeper. There's no layers, there's no character, no personality to the costume design. There's no love for the characters shown through the designs. There's just bright colours and shiny materials and lights and technology, no story telling. What is theatre if there's no story?!

What are your guys honest opinions about the Wembley costumes, both on their own and compared to other productions. I have mixed feelings about them tbh. All the shapes and colors are fun to look at and draw but I tend to favor the more classic ones. Feel free to rant abt this to me, I'm curious to know what y'all think.

[piltivorcango2hell]

The plate of food was now beside her and Linus was resting his head on her lap acting as an anchor to reality. Ina’s confidence sunk when Viktor said she was “unwell.” She knew she had problems, that was why she had Linus, but when others said it, she felt judged. When he then brought up what happened the previous night, she felt ashamed and broken.

I’m sorry.

She slowly grabs the shimmer and looks at it with dread.

I am “unwell” and it’s just been getting worse. I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t mean to… at least not like that. It’s not working as well anymore and I hate it when doc gives me a new one.

Linus moves to rest his upper body on Ina and looks up at Viktor expectingly and then back at Ina and lets out a small whine.

I know I have to take it or my fucking head falls apart and then the rest of my fucking body with it. But it always fucking sucks really bad the first time so when Silco sent it over the new one for me I just know this one is going to be hell so I didn’t take it. All because I’m scared and don’t want to have to go through it again and yeah doc I know my anxiety is made worse when I don’t take care of myself but it’s kinda hard to when my kid gets sick and topside refuses to treat her so then you use all of what little money you have to buy shitty meds in Zaun because guess what? The fucking government who doesn’t give a shit about us decided that no we are to dangerous to be provided basic medicine.

At some point she starts to cry and leans forward and wraps her arms around her dog, still clutching the new vial of shimmer.

And I know you don’t agree with what I do but what choice do I have? They are shooting at kids and now boss won’t let me go back till you agree to what ever the hell he wanted from you. And now I’ve said too much. Oh fucking hell I’m gonna get in so much fucking trouble… Silco is gonna kill me.

Ina looks at the vial and then to Viktor.

I just don’t want her to become like me… I don’t want anyone to.

https://www.tumblr.com/askviktor/778530854638059520/viktor-softly-places-the-cool-towel-on-inas?source=share

When Ina woke up it took her a moment to remember where she was and notice that her dog was asleep on the sofa above her, softly snoring. The memories of the previous night came flooding back to her and a sead of frustration and anger directed towards herself, planted itself in her mind. 

She sat up, looked at the empty vial still on the coffee table, and then started to look for a piece of paper and something to write with. When she found them, she scribbled out a quick note to Silco with a shaking hand asking him for Shimmer. She called Linus over, secured the note to his collar, and hoped Viktor forgot to lock the balcony door. 

Go to Silco.

She watched as her dog opened the door, and ran off back to Zaun. Ina stood up and weakly made her way over to a nearby stack of books. When she reached them, she sat down out of breath with one of her legs sticking out to the side of her, and started looking for anything that resembled a school textbook as she thought about what to do next and mentally scolded herself for what she had done.

[moldy-flowers]

The interesting experience of being pro Sasuke, anti konoha, pro tobirama, anti Naruto ending, pro Sasusaku, anti Itachi, pro Sakura, anti SasuNaru, pro Tobirama×Izuna, anti Madara, pro karin, anti Orochimaru, pro Uchiha and anti Hashirama. And also as much as I hate the guy danzo was kind of hot when he was younger...

[catboygirljoker]

Questions 1, 21, 23 and 25 for Xiggles on that character questions meme (surprised if no one sent any about him already)

oagh thank you !! i havent received any asks for that ask game yet actually!

character ask game :o)

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

[vibrating] i have a normal and countable number of things i like about him. for right now: hes representative of many of my favorite things about KH.

one of those things is its thematic depth—he has really interesting interactions with a lot of my favorite themes in the games, including identity/personhood, fatalism, authority figures failing those under their authority, also a lot of the Christian themes/motifs (and the ways those themes are played with), also the ways in which characters parallel each other or act as foils to each other. lotta stuff to dig into there!

another thing i like about KH is its sprawling, epic scope. and luxubar is present for or has a hand in nearly every single plot element in the games. call that bitch humpty dumpty the way he was always there

another thing that characters, like. fuck up? they make mistakes and are wrong about things. they lose sight of their noble goals or do the wrong thing in pursuit of them and end up being unable to achieve those goals. they spread lies and misinformation on accident or on purpose. and boy howdy luxubar has made a lot of mistakes and told a lot of lies. hes a complicated messy flawed character!

all of that AND he's Fucking Weird!!! just a fully bizarre person who says weird shit! even if you dont know anything about his backstory he's still one of the most memorable and fun characters in the series!

in terms of what i dont like about him. 99% of the things someone might criticize about him, i would respond with "yeah thats the point, thats why he rules as a chracter". but if someone said "i hate xigbar because hes a misogynist" i wouldnt even have a response. like yeah. he says some weird "haha girls am i right" shit in Days. i Dont like how he talks to Aqua in BbS. the only thing i could really say is "xigbar is a misogynist because he is in a game series written by misogynists and you have to correct for that" but i still kinda grimace every time he talks to or about a female character. really hoping thats not intentional and future games wont continue to characterize him that way

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

oh man i could give a dozen different answers for this...in developing his overarching story in my current fic, im really enjoying exploring the like. existential horror of his Whole Deal with the added wrench of "trans man in a cis man's body". no body dysphoria at the cost of total alienation from his body and from potential community with other trans people. unable to participate in conversations about transness; unable to explain why. especially since my other protagonist [oc lamia] is transmasc and has his own complicated relationship with gender and his own body. much too think about !!!

i dont really know how to answer the "what i dont like" part of the question lol...like i write fic as a way to explore a piece of media and its characters. saying something like "i wish he had [x] characteristic so i could do [y] plot thing" feels like saying "i wish this person im interviewing had said something different so i could write this interview differently". like idk! im doing literary criticism, effectively, my writing is responsive to the character, i just writes him like i sees him

23. Favorite picture of this character?

oh MAN i could give a million different answers for this.... right now im thinking a lot about this half second pose he has in DDD.

just something very funny to me about seeing him giving a thumbs up. the supportive smiler.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

ive answered this question here! relinking because theres a video clip involved lol. primarily my first impression of him was "evil little league coach". that was before i even played Days, he's REALLY an evil little league coach in that game. it's remained basically true for him to me this whole time.

now whenever i see him im just like "THE BITCH HIMSELF <3 <3 <3 <3 <3" and i kick my legs and smile and grin and clap and play.

[morninkim]

"Years of fighting. Bots and Cons falling left and right. Dying on our behalf. No more. We settle this now, Megatron." "Just the two of us then? To the death? Ahh, brings me back to the pits all those centuries ago. Very well then, today will be the day the great Optimus Prime finally falls by my hand." "Only one of us is walking away from this rock functional, old friend. It will not be you."

~ Audio from Optimus Prime's remains at the sight of his final confrontation with Megatron that ended the Great War. circa 2003.

Audio encoded by Soundwave, Memory bank recovered by Ratchet

[unproduciblesmackdown]

set out to create a serious, canonesque drawing with which to say "feel free to go in my lackadaisy tag and help me mystery speculate" but only got going when i made it bowling and the rarepair agenda