#gloriously weird

[rachaelmayo]

This is a marvelously weird character, Lucifer, that belongs to a DeviantArt friend. I made it as an art trade back in 2007. The character has completely transparent skin below his face, so all their muscles and tendons show through. I recall that the character sheet for Lucifer was especially delightful - the artist had done muscle studies for the articulation of all of those wings!

Ink and Faber-Castell Polychromos pencils.

[iceclew]

I'm cracking up so much right now like....I really did it, wtf XD

First I wanted to go like "this is not my fault, this is @mechazushi's idea", but to be honest.. I had so much fcking fun with this.. ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

The idea is just *glorious* and so fcking stupid, it's perfect again.. https://www.tumblr.com/mechazushi/754110618707066880/so-this-isnt-so-much-an-incorrect-quotes

So this was her original post, the idea sprouting, so to say :D

Credit on your brain rot, it's hilarious @mechazushi :D

The less I get done in RL - the more creative I get, it's such a horrible curse..

Should I do a split up version of this as well, I wonder..? Like..all of them in seperate pics? (¯―¯ ٥)

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

Throwback to the summer of 2014 when at four in the morning I decided to braid my hair into a Gimli beard for the first time and make a helmet out of tinfoil

[avaseofpeonies]

Watching Till the End of the Moon like

[dykeseinfeld]

the way that when i move in w my parents i won’t be able to play dress up in the middle of the night and have a cheeky joint by myself on the porch in the rain like.

[revelingrexan]

Expose your fictional crushes

sharing 9 fictional crushes . . .

Top row: White Hat (Villainous, fan character*) - Black Hat (Villainous) - Vision (Marvel, cinematic universe)

Middle row: i don't want to say it Carlisle Cullen (Twilight) - Nico Robin (One Piece) - Saitama (One-Punch Man)

Bottom row: FRIEND'S OC WHEEEEEEZE. my friend knows. my friend very knows - Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls) - Roronoa Zolo (the green-haired idiot. One Piece)

Honorary number 10 (and who hilariously and YAY FOR HIM gets an extra large image since he's on his own): MUMEN RIDER / LICENSELESS RIDER FROM ONE-PUNCH MAN. AAAAAWWWWW YEEEAAAHHH

so my type is apparently mostly: cinnamon rolls/goody two shoes, trash bag edgelords, and idiots. (and Robin's smart and hot how can someone NOT have a crush on her)

. . . I HATE THIS POST (i'm very amused) THANK YOU FOR THE TAG @fangirl-saya

(THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A PERSON IS HALF FACEBLIND. A LOT OF ANIMATED CHARACTERS / CHARACTERS WHO ARE ONLY TEXT [i.e. friend's OC, and Carlisle in my heart] )

___

*WHITE HAT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH POKEMON THAT'S JUST ONE OF MY OWN DRAWINGS/EDITS THAT I STILL NEED TO SUBMIT. I JUST PERMANENTLY HAVE VILLAINOUS AND POKEMON GO BRAINROT

[kaldurrr]

hmm, i’ll have to think on this more but i think another theme of bg3 is about being a loser

[rallamajoop]

Portraits of Miranda's family: Image assets and renders

Have some assets and object renders of all those fancy portraits of Miranda, Donna and Lady D and her daughters! There are also many more portraits of Miranda herself to be found all over the village, of course, but I've posted those before. Not sure exactly why the Dimitrescu portrait is so much lower-res than the others (the actual picture is plenty big in-game), but this is the only version of it I could find in the game files.

The painting of the three daughters is (as you've probably heard before) based on a real painting by George Theodore Berthon called "The Three Robinson Sisters" ‒ and when I say "based on" what I mean of course is "it's the same picture, they've just tweaked the poses and added the Dimitrescu crest and a few extra details." But then, you can do that when a picture is over a hundred years out of copyright.

Whether the portraits of Dimitrescu and Donna were similarly based on specific historical art I do not know, though their faces look far more game-accurate, at least. Meanwhile, the portrait of Miranda so perfectly apes a thousand different madonna-with-baby images that I wouldn't be at all surprised if that slightly-creepy-baby comes direct from some original art piece, but who knows?

On a related note, has anyone else ever noticed the weird gender/class divide in Miranda's family? All five female family members appear in these flattering portraits (all seven if you count Angie and Eva), and Donna lives in a stately home and Dimitrescu in a castle, both attended by staff and servants. Heisenberg and Moreau, meanwhile, live in an old, run-down factory and a lake. The men do get their photos displayed in the church with everyone else's, of course, but that's hardly comparable to an actual painting.

There's arguably something of a technology divide too: though everything in the village seems old, Heisenberg's factory and the reservoir control mechanisms at least mark those areas as post-industrial revolution, and both feature major puzzles to get power generators running. But very little in Donna or Dimitrescu's domains would seem out of place in pre-Victorian times.

I don't think there's much meaning to be read into the gender divide (except inasmuch as you know Heisenberg plays up his filthy, lower-class persona just to get under Dimitrescu's skin) and I doubt it was even intentional. There's not much to suggest Miranda actively favours her 'daughters' over her 'sons', given Heisenberg's favoured treatment at Ethan's trial, and you definitely don't see the same kind of split in the Baker family of RE7, which gave us the gloriously revolting Marguerite. But as soon as you start digging into these characters, it's hard not to notice it all the same.

[galacticnova3]

Since she has now flown off I am obligated to post the order of potato fairy extra large that I looked after for several days. Aka a gloriously chumby Polyphemus moth— the second one I’ve seen alive in over a decade— that decided to hang around our porch for most of its adult life. I saw the first live one on the same day, but he flew away when I tried to get close. But still, that’s a great sign that their population in my area is finally starting to recover! Anyways, here’s the wonderful big little creacher where I found her, which should probably make it clear as to why I moved her. Ants don’t mess around and I wasn’t gonna just leave her inches away from danger.

I was pretty glad I did, as even after her wings were fully dried and extended and everything she couldn’t actually take off. See: her first “flight”.

Big fan of the loud impact PLAP sound, really added to the already very good demonstration of gravity. Worry not, she was totally fine afterwards. Here she is that night and the day after! Very cute and fuzzy, 1000/10.

The next day I thought she had flown off, but then the day after that she was back on the porch! I could tell she was the same one because of her damaged antenna. She started laying eggs on the house and I realized that wasn’t going to be good for the caterpillars that might hatch, since it was a relatively long distance to any host plants even without including the vertical climb to reach branches of leaves. Since she clearly felt safe where she was, and I was also worried about ants and birds and possible insecticides, I ended up making a little “baby box” for her out of a thoroughly rinsed plastic container that initially held salted honey-roasted peanuts. I gave her a stick to hold on to which also gave her a route to climb out of the box if she wished, and provided various fresh oak leaves to lay her eggs on. Figured it would be a good setup because I could easily move it to a safe place once she was done, and keep an eye on the eggs until they hatched. I might even try to raise a few caterpillars if the eggs are fertile. However, during the process of me setting that whole deal up, she decided I looked like a good egg laying spot.

You can see the “glue” that sticks the eggs to surfaces! It was cool to see up close: she’d lay an egg, wait for it to dry, and then lay the next right by it. She ended up sticking four on me before I was able to gently nudge her to the egg laying box. The stick was eventually deemed an acceptable substitute, and over night she… made an egg stalactite of sorts on it? Very weird, I think, I dunno; most of what I read online said their eggs would be laid in spread out clusters of two to three on suitable host plants. I know it wasn’t because she couldn’t get out, as when I went to check on her she had already made her way to the top of the stick and was hanging off of it outside the box. I didn’t think to take a picture of that as I needed to drive to college, but source: dude trust me. Here’s a picture of the egg sculpture I took when I got home.

When I was done with that I went to move her off the porch where she had been staying safe for the last 5 or so days to the more wooded area of the yard, but she ended up flying off to the treetops on her own after I brought her into the open. I guess laying a bunch of eggs made her finally light enough to fly. Maybe she was feeling upset at me for not being able to pay child support and making her lay her eggs on a stick instead? Or she was just doing normal moth things or whatever. It was bittersweet to watch her go, but I’m glad she had the chance to soar the skies at least once before her time was up.

@onenicebugperday

[tangibletechnomancy]

Doing It Wrong On Purpose: Episode 1 - The Un-Ship

Today's experiment: What happens if I prompt for something, and then negative prompt all the main keywords, plus various synonyms and related words?

The answer: Some gloriously weird stuff.

For example, let's look at a negative cat:

Positive prompt: A cat on a windowsill during a storm

Negative prompt: Cat, feline, felidae, kitty, kitten, animal, pet, windowsill, window, glass, pane, house, storm, rain, water, lightning, thunder, clouds, torrent, downpour, snow, blizzard, wind, windy

Interesting! Let's get a little more fantasy with it and try for an anti-deer:

Positive prompt: A deer in a peaceful flowery meadow, crystals, midnight, fantasy, colorful

Negative prompt: Deer, cervidae, animal, elk, moose, stag, doe, fawn, reindeer, antelope, cervid, antlers, flowers, night, dark, trees, foliage, bloom, stars, night, tranquil, fantastic, vibrant, cool, magic, blue, moon, sky, crystal, stone, statue, topiary, floral, blossom

Between these two experiments, including a few dozen other generations that remain unposted, one thing I can say for sure is that for living subjects, it's a great way to get the kind of anatomical wonk that older models are (in)famous for - and it makes sense why, the model is trying to make something that looks like a certain subject...but once it starts to look too much like it, well, shit, we told it NOT to do that! Break something up! Given that I love that kind of wonk, I think I've found a useful tool for myself.

One more living subject, and let's get even more abstract with our direction here:

Positive prompt: mind horse

Negative prompt: horse, equine, colt, filly, mare, stallion, bronco, pony, mind, brain, thought, essence, psyche, intelligence, consciousness, imagination, dream, soul, visualization, intellect, wit, cognizance

Now let's try something that isn't alive. One thing I love AI for is surreal settings and landscapes - lets try one now!

Positive prompt: A magic palace garden made of crystal and gold

Negative prompt: Palace, magic, crystal, gold, fantasy, castle, estate, stronghold, temple, garden, flowers, plants, blossoms, bloom, blooms, trees, grass, stems, foliage, leaves, greenery, branches, bush, bushes, hedge, hedges, metal, luxury, stone, glass, brass, rose, polished, jewel, prism, courtyard

I then tried to see if, learning from the animal subjects, I could make it more likely to return one of my favorite "mistakes" - making it impossible to discern the point where a water area ends and a sky area begins. I wasn't immediately successful, but I came up with some results I found pleasing regardless-

Positive prompt: Secret hideout in a cave behind a waterfall in the foggy forest on a floating sky island in fluffy clouds

Negative prompt: hideout, camp, campsite, home, abode, house, dwelling, rest, shelter, waterfall, water, cave, grotto, forest, woods, woodland, trees, fountain, cascade, pond, stream, lake, river, brook, puddle, creek, pool, beach, ocean, sea, cloud, clouds, sky, cumulus, cirrus, nimbus, fog, storm, rain, sunshower, falls

It seems that with landscapes it's got a much clearer and more specific "idea" of what a [SUBJECT] without [SUBJECT] looks like; it's more inclined to invent very specific, very consistent unasked for related elements. With the animals, I was tweaking the weight on the positive prompt to avoid getting straightforwardly just what I had positive (and negative) prompted, but with landscapes, I just get... almost something else entirely.

So how about inanimate objects? Let's try a ship, perhaps?

Positive prompt: A huge sailing ship with brilliant prismatic crystal sails on a stormy, turbulent sea of sunset clouds

Negative prompt: ship, boat, sailboat, sailing ship, pirate ship, galleon, ketch, schooner, sloop, cutter, sail, sea, ocean, storm, wind, rain, water, waves, cloudy, clouds, fog, sunset, dusk, dawn, sunrise, twilight, evening

...okay, I'm in love with the un-ship. It truly does manage to consistently give me results that look like, yet entirely unlike, a ship. It is everything I love about AI as a medium. More than that, it is my friend.

At lower positive prompt weights, they only get even more beautifully chaotic.

I want to live on one of these (in an alternate universe where they're geometrically possible and structurally sound, that is).

Failing that, I will be featuring them a lot from now on.

All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

[zkaus]

Before Lestat...

Here's where I admit to (previously!) being entirely unimpressed by Sam Reid.

I've been vaguely familiar with him for about a decade. I'm Australian, so I've seen him pop up in bunch of different things. And honestly, he never struck me as having much more to offer than a very nice jawline (I've never been so wrong).

But seriously, these were the kind of looks/roles we'd all come to expect from him:

And something about how they always dressed and posed him screamed rich, white, private school educated, straight man.

And (Sorry Sam!) but that's sooo boring!!

Yes, I admit, I was clearly wrong.

But in my defence, who expected this man in 2021:

To become this man in 2022:

Let alone this man!!

He's practically chewing the scenery!!

Sam! I have to know!!

Was this a journey for you?

Or were you always, secretly this gloriously Extra?!!?

Did entering Lestat's character free up something beautiful and new inside you?

Or

Have have you been denying us this intoxicating extravagance this whole time?!?

I never thought I'd say this, but I've finally learned to appreciate Sam Reid....Actually, I adore him!!

I'm so pleased he's finally getting an opportunity to demonstrate his capacity and range. But I'm also utterly perplexed... How did no one realise he was so ridiculously talented before?

And also completely fucking gloriously weird!?!?

Did he have a really shitty/conservative/unimaginative agent holding him back? Was he typecast?

How was this absolute freak of nature missed?

[ericsprincess]

wanna take a look inside you

nc-17, stalker!Jaemin, Jaemin/female reader, cunnilingus, crack

~~~

Your stalker really cares about you.

~~~

Why the fuck is it snowing again? Just why? you groan, as soon as you open your eyes and see all the fluffy snowflakes falling behind your window. 

You reluctantly roll out of your warm bed and start getting ready for the day. You should be rushing through your morning routine, since you have to get to work, but you’re almost deliberately slow. You’re just trying to delay the inevitable, which is having to shovel half a meter of snow out of your driveway and your car, and scrape off the ice from your car windows. You’re seriously considering calling in sick, just to not have to deal with standing outside in snow and fighting your flimsy plastic shovel and tiny ice scraper. 

You’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you stop at the sudden glimpse out of your kitchen window. What the hell. 

Your driveway is already nicely and precisely shoveled, with all the snow neatly piled up on one side. Not only that, your car is completely cleaned, covered with only a small layer of freshly fallen snow, indicating that whoever took mercy on you did it only a while ago. 

You sit down behind the table and absentmindedly scratch behind your dog's ears while chewing on toast. 

Maybe one of the neighbors did it? Or maybe there is some kind of a community service? Which is weird. You just moved into this area and by the looks of it you would expect to get your car stolen rather than cleaned. 

Hmm, you think. Maybe the neighborhood here isn’t that bad. 

(Narrator voice: It is actually that bad.)

~~~

Ironically, a few days later you do end up calling in sick. The cold winter weather got to you and after an evening of feeling like shit you woke up with fever, sore throat, and no will to live. 

You blindly feel around your bed to search for your phone, eventually finding it under your dog (Oof, move, you fat fuck), and call Jaemin from HR, in your office also known as Hot Jaemin from HR, to inform him that you’re taking a sick day. 

He picks up immediately after the first ring and with his completely pleasant, friendly, and only slightly creepy deep voice, he takes your note and wishes you to get well soon. He even asks if there are some work related heads up to pass to your coworkers, just like the nice and considerate guy he always is. If only every coworker was like Jaemin (nice, competent and hot), work would be much more bearable, you sigh. Sometimes he even sits down with you for lunch in the breakroom and offers you some home baked pastry while he talks about his cats. Really, just an overall nice guy. 

You finally hang up and burrow yourself back under the covers, when you notice the time on your phone. 6:58. Huh? I must be delirious, you think hazily, already drifting back to sleep. He’s not even supposed to be at work yet.  

~~~

When you finally emerge from your supposed delirium (also known as common flu) two days later, both of which you spent almost entirely just sleeping, you take a gloriously good hot shower and head to the kitchen, wondering what you will be able to scavenge from the fridge. 

Thankfully, it seems well stocked. So you quickly make a sandwich with some fresh ham and vegetables, scarf it down like a madwoman, after barely eating for two days and put the plate into the sink.

The dishes are also done. 

The house is actually pretty spotless, you squint as you look around. Even more than usual - no socks anywhere, no cups with forgotten tea. Dog looks fed and happy. 

The laundry machine beeps to announce that it’s finished. 

Wow, it must have been really bad, because I don’t remember doing any of that. Good job, sick me, you mentally pat yourself on your shoulder. 

~~~

You open the door to get out of your house for a nice walk and you stop dead in your tracks.

What the actual everloving fuck. 

Right in front of your doorstep there is a line of six mice, nicely ordered and completely dead, and you barely manage to prevent your dog from taking a good sniff. 

You retreat back to your house, pulling the dog with you and you lock all the locks on the door. 

You don’t even own a cat? 

~~~

You would swear the oil change light in your car was blinking for the past two months. Like, it had been mocking you and your procrastination. You felt bad about it, but ignored it, because who would want to deal with it unless you really have to? 

Well, it’s not blinking today. 

Which must mean only one thing - the light is broken now too. Which might also mean some electronic failure.

You frown. Karma for being lazy found you and there goes your free Saturday. 

And then it finds you again 2 hours later for being an idiot, when it turns out the oil does not need to be changed and the whole electronic system in your car is working alright. You made the mechanic check twice because you could swear you’re not making it all up, just to end up looking like a dumbass in front of the whole shop. 

You go home in shame and then you dig out the car manual you once threw into a cupboard and never read. 

~~~

Ugh, this guy again. You fight the urge to run, but he has already noticed you and you don’t want to look weak. Or afraid. But you are, a little. 

Walking on the same street, your creepy neighbor is approaching you from the opposite direction and you’re already bracing yourself. 

He never lets you go just with “Hello,” he always tries to flirt creepily and invite you for coffee, last time he even tried to grab your hand. You shudder at the memory. You hate these kinds of slimebags and their audacity. But you’re afraid he might snap if you really tell him off. 

So, you’re not sure what to do, you’re always just distantly polite and doing your best to not give him any signal that he might interpret as his attention being welcome. 

But you did start bringing pepper spray with you and going everywhere with your dog. Not like this fat fuck could ever protect your from anything, but still. For mental support. (But seriously, why is it getting so fat? You make a mental note to take him on longer walks, despite the shitty neighborhood.)

He’s getting closer and you’re already feeling the anxiety, when he swiftly crosses the road to get to the opposite side of the street. He walks faster. It’s like he’s avoiding you. Not only that, but he’s limping and his nose is bandaged as if it were broken. 

What could have happened to him? you wonder. Maybe he bothered the wrong girl and her boyfriend went to teach him to leave women alone, you chuckle. Who knows. 

~~~

You suddenly startle out of your sleep to the sound of breaking glass. It's a deep night but you are barely gathering your wits from being so crudely woken up, but you can hear a strange commotion from downstairs. 

Burglars, is your first thought. You’re shaking hard but you slowly and silently tiptoe to your closet to get a broom, the only weapon you can think of right now. A broom in one hand and your phone in the other, with the police dialed up, just waiting to press a call, you pad down the stairs to your living room where the sound came from. 

The lights are already on. And in there there is-

“Jaemin??? What are you doing here?” you scream. 

Right in the middle of your living room is Hot Jaemin from HR, disheveled and slightly out of breath, and just about to finish hog-tying a masked man. He pulls the rope tightly and kicks the man into the ribs for good measure. He stands up and turns to you with a bright and wide smile. 

“Y/N! Go to sleep, I got it!” he says happily and throws you a thumbs up. He ignores the question.

“B-But-” you take a step forward but Jaemin stops you. 

“Be careful, Y/N, there is glass. I threw a vase at him, that fucker really thought he can mess with me like that,” he snorts. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll clean it up and deal with this bag of dicks.” he urges you gently. 

“H-How are you going to deal with him?” you’re confused. Jaemin’s smile gets even wider. 

“I’ll deal with him, I have tools in my car. Don’t worry about it.” he brushes you off. 

“You know what, I’ll just call the police,” you wave your phone, barely out of shock from what just happened. 

“Okay,” Jaemin sighs with dramatic exasperation. “But it will take forever while you could have just left it to me and gone to sleep.”

You squint at him suspiciously and press the dial. 

~~~

“So, that would be all, Mrs. Y/L/N. We will contact you about the further proceedings,” the police officer clicks his pen off and gathers his papers. Your kitchen is still flashing red and blue from police cars parked outside. 

“Thank you, officer, I really appreciate it,” you beep back at him. This police thing turned out to be a lot more serious and lengthy than you expected.

“Don’t thank me, miss, you should thank your..uhhh…” he looks up at Jaemin, who is standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. 

“Husband,” Jaemin offers, with his signature bright smile and you fight the urge to step on his foot. 

“Yeah, that. Anyways, if you have any questions, call us. Good night!” he salutes you with two fingers and brusquely walks out of your house. The cars leave one by one and then you’re alone. With Jaemin. 

You turn back to him. 

“I am not sure what to think about all of this, but thank you, I guess. But I have a lot of questions and I want answers to all of them,” you stick a finger right in the middle of his chest. 

“Okay, of course. Whatever you want, Y/N,” Jaemin offers. It’s the first time you see him look anything else but bright and cheerful. He looks almost unsure. 

“I’m now going to sleep and if I find out you’re still in this house, I’ll call the police again. On you.” you threaten. “You have 2 minutes to leave,” you add and pointedly look at the clock on your kitchen wall. 

“Oh, okay, let me just…” he gathers his rope that the cops left behind and his jacket and hurriedly slips on his shoes. He’s in the door in thirty seconds, waving at you. 

“See you at work!” he squeezes your hand briefly and runs out of your house. 

Why do I always attract these weirdos, you sigh and drag yourself upstairs to your bedroom. You fling yourself on the bed and you suddenly really feel how tired and exhausted you are from all the adrenaline. It would be really for the best to just sleep, you decide and crawl under the covers. 

But the sleep is not coming, you’re just thinking about everything that happened. You keep tossing and turning, ending up staring out into your bedroom window. 

Suddenly, a phone display lights up in the crown of a nearby tree. You decide to pointedly ignore it and you flip to the other side, turning your back to the window. You grab your dog, who’s been snoozing peacefully throughout the whole night and snuggle into his white fluffy fur to sleep. 

~~~

The next day at work you don’t waste any time. After throwing your bag at your desk you change direction right into the HR office. 

You don’t knock, just let yourself in, meeting Jaemin who is currently sitting behind his desk, unpacking his things for a day. He looks up at you, smiling. 

You cross your arms and point at the nametag on his desk that says “Na Jaemin, Head of HR” with your chin. 

“Ironic, huh?” 

“What’s ironic?” he straightens up, smile unwavering. 

“I can’t even report you, you asshole.” you frown. “And I don’t really want to go to the police because you did save my life.”

“Well that’s bad.“ he nods solemnly.

“It really is. So… Care to explain what you were doing at my house?” 

“Guarding you?” he answers like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wh-guarding?? From what?” you ask incredulously. Oh. “Okay don’t answer.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “You know that as a head of HR I have access to aaaaaaaaaalllll of your records, right?” he spins his pen between his fingers. “So I really couldn’t help but notice you moved into a really shitty location, Y/N. Really, there? I know how much you make, you don’t need to live there at all.”

“I’m saving money for my own house, okay?” you answer defensively. You couldn’t have possibly known it would be that bad. You thought that everyone was just exaggerating. “Why were you even keeping tabs on my address?” you ask him accusingly. 

Jaemin just keeps looking at you, smiling. It’s unnerving. Like a shark about to eat you, but with joy.

“...so you’re not gonna answer?” you frown. Of course. 

“I mean, isn’t that obvious?” he drawls, tilting his head as if he were mocking you. And you think it should be obvious, but at the same time, you never know what’s going on in Jaemin’s head. 

You sigh. “You know, next time JUST ASK ME OUT YOU MORON!” 

“Oh, yeah, I could have done that…” he startles with realization. “I guess I was too preoccupied.”

“With what? Figuring out my daily patterns? Putting a GPS tracker on my car?”

“How did you find that?” he asks surprisingly, pulling up his phone to check. 

You close your eyes and breathe deeply. Come on, you have dealt with worse. And he’s really hot *and* whipped, even though he has a particular way about it. And he saved your life. You could have a use for him. 

“Drive me home.”

“Sure,” he gets up immediately, picking up his jacket. 

“You’re not even gonna question me wanting to leave work just like that?” 

“Who do you think is processing your attendance records?” he winks at you and leads you out of his office to the parking lot with a hand on your waist 

~~~

“By the way, you didn’t answer.” you say while fighting with the seatbelt while Jaemin starts the car. “What were you doing at my house?”

“Uh. Is this now the time to tell you I’ve been sleeping in front of your bedroom door for the past few weeks?”

You can literally taste the headache coming. 

“I don’t think there is ever a good time for that.”

~~~

You open the door to your house and let both you and Jaemin in. Your dog comes running to welcome you and you’re not even surprised that it actually ignores you in favor of running into Jaemin,  who doesn’t wait to start playing with him, laughing and telling him what a good boy he is. 

More like a traitor. You frown at Jaemin pulling out a treat out of his jeans pocket and your dog chasing it hungrily as Jaemin teases him. Sold me for a piece of snack. 

“Let’s go upstairs before I change my mind.”

“Sure,” smiles Jaemin and stands up, suddenly taking a hold of you and picking you up over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. 

“Hey! Put me down!” you yell at him, grabbing his ass and squeezing it. “I will fucking bite you!”

“Leave that for later…” he drawls in his creepy flirty voice as he walks up the stairs. He takes you to your bedroom and gently lowers you down on your bed. 

You really like the view from under him. He leans down to kiss your neck.

“Hey Jaemin..” you begin. 

“Hmmm?” he mumbles, continuing to kiss and lick your neck while his hands are working on taking your clothes off. 

“While you were sleeping outside my bedroom…Heards anything weird?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Pretty sure I heard my name at least once,” he bites into your collarbone. He takes off your shirt and pinches off the hooks of your bra in a second and you help take it off you. 

“And you still didn’t think of asking me out?” you ask disbelievingly. He pulls back a little and you get distracted by his shoulders. You start unbuttoning his shirt, just to reveal his beautiful full chest and muscular arms. Nice.

“You said Doyoung’s name once too.” he shrugs. He doesn't really meet your eyes.

“Oh yeah, Doyoungie from accounting…Haven’t seen him in a while, I wonder how he's doing…”

“He asked for a transfer. Doesn’t matter. Let’s not talk about him,” says Jaemin once again back to his bright smile and leans down to you, now fully committed to undressing you as soon as possible. He pulls off your pants together with your panties and lets his shirt slide off his body as well. 

“What are you gonna do?” you ask, while he shifts down your body. You instinctively spread your legs.

“Apologize,” he says while looking into your eyes and straight up dives into your pussy. 

You can tell he’s really sorry. He’s putting all the enthusiasm into eating you out, trying really hard to figure out what makes you tick and then applying it tenfold. You can feel him smile the moment you start making sounds.

You can feel yourself being close to coming and you try to tell him by pulling his hair, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He knows it already and he continues to flick his tongue over your clit even as you come, holding you by your thighs firmly so you don’t move too much to slip out of his hold. Once your orgasm starts to fade, he eases up a little, switching to slower, gentle licks with flat tongue, while you catch your breath, but in a minute, he’s back at it, relentlessly stimulating you as if you didn’t even have a choice about whether you want another round or not. 

You can only applaud his skill and stamina and let him make you come, with absolutely no guidance, for the second time, barely a couple minutes after the first one. 

While you’re coming down from your orgasm, feeling all liquid and brainless, Jaemin disentangles himself from your legs and crawls up the bed to drag you into his arms.

You turn to kiss him when you realize he hasn’t even taken off his jeans yet. You slide your hand to rub over his hard cock a little and he sighs and nuzzles into your neck. “Do you want…” you start.

“No. I haven’t deserved it yet,” he breathes out. “I’m already close though…” He looks like he’s fighting himself on that.

“Oh really?” you grin, and rise up to look better at his flushed face. “Well then get back to work?” you pull him by his (insanely attractive) sex hair. He whines, you don’t know if it's from pain or arousal, but it doesn’t matter.

“I’m going to sit on your face now, okay?” you whisper to him. 

“Uhhhh uhhh,” he closes his eyes. 

“Great. If you come, this one doesn’t count,” you laugh, and swing one leg over his leg to kneel over him.

~~~

You’re lying in your bed, sweaty and tired and almost falling asleep in Jaemin arms, when you suddenly remember. 

“Hey, actually...what about the mice?” 

He turns and smiles at you with a full Cheshire cat smile. Way too many teeth.

"Well..."

[housecow]

Your figure is so lush and plump 🫠 I have to ask: have your calves, ankles, and feet swollen up as gloriously as the rest of you? 🥹

i’ve gone up a shoe size but ngl… not really…. i’ve always had chunky calves but they’re relatively proportionate to the rest of me!!! there’s even some definition in my calves still :3 my ankles and feet are still bony asf tho haha. if i can get a cute pic of my lower half later i’ll reblog this ask w that!!

NO free feet pics though !!! none shall see my weird teva tanlines

[lunaluzer2024]

Cats, furbies, and race horses all have one thing in common. Gloriously weird names.

[scoops-aboy86]

Some Turbulence Ahead

Prompt Used: Summer fling (@thehairandthebanished) and mile high club (@steddiesmuttyseptember) | Some Turbulence Ahead | Rating: E | CW: semi-public sex, a hint of feeding kink, a lil bit of drinking | Additional Tags: chubby Eddie Munson, doting Steve Harrington, friends with benefits, feelings realization, the looming threat of possible unrequited feelings

also on Ao3

It was only supposed to be a summer fling. A natural carpe diem following a harrowing week of near-death experiences—or, as Eddie likes to spin it, a week of Death suffering from near-Eddie experiences. He’d thrown himself at Steve without really expecting the guy to catch him, just knowing him enough to know that Steve would at least let him down easy. 

Only, Eddie still hasn’t hit the ground. 

He’s literally thousands of feet above it actually, slipping into an airplane bathroom after a reasonable amount of time to allay suspicion… Though it’s not like anyone is paying attention. Apparently, when you’re in first class, you can do whatever the fuck you want. 

Including getting your… whatever they are to each other’s pants unzipped under the complimentary inflight blanket and fondling him in his boxers until he’s hard, then flouncing off to the bathroom after a heated whisper about doing something about it. 

Sometimes, Eddie kind of hates Steve. (Not really.) 

He hasn’t bothered to zip back up, so once he’s inside all Steve has to do is lift the bottom of his t-shirt to see where his cock is doing its best to escape threadbare fabric that used to hang loose on him. Still kind of did, before Steve ordered them the full range of snacks that flying the friendly skies had to offer, on the grounds that chewing would help Eddie’s ears pop. And a few rounds of complimentary champagne, to celebrate a long weekend away from Hawkins. Eddie had felt warm and flushed before Steve’s hands started wandering, and now that they’re on him again, pulling his jeans and underwear down together and grabbing hold with a spit-wet palm, he feels goddamn incandescent. 

Steve’s other hand is in Eddie’s hair, guiding him into a hungry kiss but pulling away slightly when he moans. “Gotta stay quiet, babe,” Steve murmurs, then sucks on Eddie’s bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whimpers, but softly. It’s not like he wants to get caught in here either and get weird looks for the rest of the flight just because some stewardess saw his blindingly white ass.

Which Steve is now dropping to sit on the closed airplane toilet so he can grope, kneading and tugging him closer with intent. Eddie has to slap a ringed hand over his own mouth to smother the sounds that want to spill out. Jesus H. Christ, if he’d known before Spring Break that Steve Harrington enjoys giving head so much, he wouldn’t have wasted so much gas driving out to Indy on the weekends. Now, threading his fingers through that gloriously thick, soft mass of hair, he knows that he’s going to miss all this when it’s gone. When summer ends and Steve takes it away, to follow Robin wherever she’s going for college… Meanwhile, Eddie hasn’t saved up enough to strike out on his own yet, so. That’s that. 

Not that he’s thinking about the end of things now, with Steve’s tongue swirling around the head of his cock, teasing at the slit, and one of his hands drifting from his ass, pausing to squeeze briefly at his hip, then to his full stomach—which, fuck, that feels good. Everything feels good, sound muted beneath the roar of the plane engines and vibrations off the same moving through him from any surface he touches, and Steve sucking him all the way into his throat like he can’t get enough. Like he’s getting something out of this too, when he’s not even jerking off while he does it. 

“C-close, Stevie,” Eddie whispers through trembling fingers. “Hurry, befoooooh fuck, mm, before someone finds us—”

Steve moans around him, suitably muffled by how full his mouth is but Eddie can feel it all the way up his goddamn spine, and that’s what does it. Tips Eddie’s eyes back in his skull, curls his toes, pops the last remaining champagne bubbles ping ponging around inside of him. And, yeah, they’ve been in the air for a while now, but he feels like he’s flying.

By the time the haze in his head clears up enough to remember he’s in a tiny, tiny bathroom, Steve is already making him look presentable again: jeans back up, spent dick tucked away with a surprisingly tender goodbye kiss, nuzzling briefly at the treasure trail below Eddie’s soft navel before pulling his shirt down to hide his… still unzipped pants. 

Eddie is too blissed out still to devote much thought to that. Instead, he pulls Steve to his feet and pouts for a kiss, which he gets. Long and slow and deep, because he likes to taste himself in Steve’s mouth. He reaches down to return the favor, humming in confusion when he doesn’t feel the expected hard-on. 

Breaking the kiss with a shiver and a soft, overstimulated oh, Steve pulls away and reaches to adjust his slacks. He unzips and pushes them and his briefs down to reveal an obviously used condom sheathing his cock. “It was just in case,” he whispers sheepishly, blushing. It goes all the way down his chest, Eddie knows, unseen beneath a baby blue polo. “For, uh, easier cleanup.”

Stifling the insane urge to giggle, Eddie kisses him again before letting Steve shoo him out to get back to his seat. Steve follows a few minutes later, hair resettled into something more like ‘napped in a strange position during the flight’ than ‘I just inducted my friend-with-benefits-or-whatever into the Mile High Club.’ They exchange conspiratorial grins, giddy over getting away with it, and then a stewardess comes by with a final round of inflight snacks and they get more champagne to go with their little packets of peanuts. Steve pulls out the map of San Francisco, pointing out all the places they want to go that he’s carefully marked down in blue pen. 

The Golden Gate Bridge. AT&T Park. Chinatown, like the movie. Cable cars. Fisherman’s Wharf, Wax Museum, and Pier 39. The Ghirardelli chocolate factory. An old World War Two submarine open for tours at Pier 45, right next to an antique game arcade. Alcatraz. Even the Castro district, which Steve lowers his voice a bit to talk about but still brimming with obvious excitement. They’re going to stay in a nice hotel near Union Square and just be fucking tourists for a few days, courtesy of the inheritance from Steve’s Grandpa Otis that he gained full access to on his twentieth birthday. 

Maybe Eddie is a little drunk, or still riding the high of orgasm a bit… but for just a moment, he lets himself dream that this could be more than just a fling. There’s a real tenderness to some of the things Steve does for him sometimes, in how sweet he can be amidst the bitchiness and insatiable libido. And Eddie loves it all, because… he loves Steve. 

Wants to wake up with him every morning of this perfect vacation, start every day with a kiss and playful bickering about whose morning breath or bedhead is worse, and then just. Keep doing that forever. 

Huh. 

When did that happen?

When had he fallen fallen for Hawkins’ finest purveyor of Family Videos, the Paladin tank who defended young nerds with his own life, a perfect boy with a winning smile and a taste for spoiling his partners? Absolutely crazy. 

It was only ever supposed to be a summer fling.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[gothiccharmschool]

Today's advice from your Goth Auntie

No slouching! Hydrate, take your meds. 

You will eventually become your true, gloriously weird self. Keep striving for that.

The Lurking Horror found the forbidden door in the basement and wants to know why it's forbidden.

❤️Auntie Jilli