#he's a funky guy I dig him

[voidcreations]

Been wanting to take a crack at @mothcpu's sona for a while, here's a sketch I finally got around to do

[solarsturniolo]

Guys, Matt in today’s video…

The way he talked to Nick and rubbed his shoulder 🥹 “Don’t miss me too much buddy, i’m gonna be right back” 🥹🥹Saying it’s cute how Nick is showing how much he actually loves his brothers 🥹🥹🥹 Matt telling Nick he’s doing a good job and comforting him 🥹🥹🥹🥹

I WANT THIS MAN’S CHILDREN RIGHT NOW. PLEASE GOD PLEASE ILL DO ANYTHING ILL SELL EVERYTHING I HAVE. PLEASE. I NEED HIM, I NEED HIS BABIES, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (unrelated but typing ‘please’ repeatedly makes a pretty funky beat and i’m low-key digging it) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[ghoulangerlee]

Merry Christmas everyone, please have this unedited dewther heat smut 😁

A few things: aether's in heat but dew isn't in a rut and as such, there isn't knotting in the literal sense, but dew does have funky anatomy that emulates a knot outside of his ruts! (As always he's ribbed for aether's pleasure)

aether can be read as trans here though his genitalia are referred to by masculine terms!

Technical double penetration in one hole for a scene but this is all wholly consensual!

But whew this is 4k, and fought me the entire time I wrote it so please enjoy!

-------

There’s a warmth settled across his hips, burning heat in his belly that feels more outward than anything, calling to him, pulling him out of his deep and restless sleep—groggy, he groans and opens his eyes slowly.

“Hey there Starshine,” Dew murmurs with a private little smile, reaching out to cup his warm hand against Aether’s cheek. “What a sight for sore eyes you are,” he continues, knees digging into the bed as he shifts forward, bowing over so he can press a soft kiss to Aether’s lips.

Aether signs into it, gives into the weight of Dew sitting over him, the line of heat he can feel even through the t-shirt he’s wearing.

There is still the low simmer of his own heat, burning just under the surface of his skin, but he ignores it in favor of wrapping his arms around the fire ghoul on top of him, rolling them over into his nest until Dew’s under him and he can press his face into the hollow of his throat, inhaling deeply.

Dew’s scent is there but barely recognizable, covered by the thick and sterile scent of travel and other people and Aether doesn’t realize that he’s growling until Dew’s shushing him.

“Promised I’d wake you with a kiss, didn’t I?” he asks, fingers sinking into Aether’s hair to tug at the strands, using his grip to draw Aether’s attention back to him and not his scent, “The shower would have woken you up and you’d be all pouty about it because you didn’t get a kiss first,” he murmurs, and his tone is only a little condescending, but mostly fond, a teasing sort of glint in his eyes as he speaks to him.

Aether narrows his eyes at him, torn between wanting to bare his teeth at Dew and wanting to admit he’s right, of course he is. He’s always right about Aether’s little quirks, even if he’s a bit mean sometimes.

Instead, he huffs and rolls off of Dew and onto his back—he doesn’t really feel much like talking and Dew seems to get that if the huff of laughter he lets out is anything to go by.

“You’re so cute,” Dew says, seriously and full of love as he sits up and works open the buttons on his shirt, “I’m going to shower and then we’ll see about getting some food in you,” he turns on the bed and leans over, pressing a sweet kiss to Aether’s cheek, “You doing okay right now, though, right big guy?” he murmurs the words against his skin, watching Aether’s eyes flutter closed.

He hums softly, turning his head enough to brush his lips over the corner of Dew’s mouth, he doesn’t speak, but a low sort of purr rumbles in his chest as he pulls away from the kiss and instead nuzzles at Dew’s jaw.

“Like a big ol kitty cat,” Dew mumbles with a little laugh, petting through Aether’s hair for a moment, “I’ll be back,” he promises, finally putting some space between them, watching as Aether settles back into the nest, head lolling back against the pillow with a pleased sort of smile on his face.

He stands from the bed and strips out of his shirt, losing his pants on the way to the bathroom, knowing he’s on borrowed time now, the clock ticking before Aether’s heat settles in for good.

At some point, he returns, though Aether’s not quite sure when or how long he’d spent in the shower, focusing instead, on the warmth of Dew climbing into the nest, shuffling Aether into his arms and pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Rain’s going to bring some food by,” Dew murmurs, pressing a warm palm against his back, “Should be here in about an hour, should have time to nap if you’re tired, big guy.”

Aether hums softly and nuzzles his way up to the hinge of Dew’s jaw, inhales the scent of heat and something entirely too enticing, too Dew for him to ignore—he exhales loudly and drags his tongue over Dew’s skin, shuddering in his arms as the scent of his mate settles something inside him.

Dew tilts his head back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as he sinks his fingers into Aether’s hair, petting at his scalp, “You’ve been working too hard, baby,” he murmurs after a few moments, his voice gentle and concerned, “Me and Copia leaving you behind really pulled you into an early heat, didn’t it?” he asks, rhetorical, the hand in his hair slipping down to cup the back of Aether’s neck and squeeze.

Aether groans, melts more into Dew’s arms, snuffling at his throat, and, if he thinks about it, pushes aside Dew’s scent and the heat in his belly, then yeah, all of this started shortly after Copia and Dew had left, after Dew had kissed him and bedded him down for the last time for a while—it hadn’t been anything different from their usual couplings, but Aether remembers feeling despondent when Dew had kissed him one last time, a smile on his lips as he murmured his love into Aether’s mouth and Aether had clung to him just a little bit tighter than normal.

“Cu could smell it,” Dew continues to speak, squeezing the back of his neck again and leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “Could smell that you were spiraling; it’s so hard for you to be away from your mate when you’re going into your heat, right?” he asks, there’s a kindness there that Aether grabs at, and he makes a noise, in agreement he thinks, and Dew laughs a little, fond and happy, “Poor thing,” he coos, nuzzling his temple, “I didn’t think—” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you were going into heat, baby, otherwise I’d stayed with you, brought you here the right way,” he slides his palm up Aether’s back, slow and gentle, “Instead of letting you get yourself worked up like this.”

Aether shakes his head, lifts his head so he can kiss Dew instead, hopes that the but you’re here now comes across even without him actually saying it and when they break apart, Dew’s smiling up at him.

“Okay, okay,” he says softly, scratching his nails against Aether’s scalp again—something Aether loves only when he’s in heat but loathes most times when he’s not, letting Aether tuck his head into his throat again, “Think you can rest for me, big guy? Nap a bit while we wait for food?”

And well, Aether does feel tired, among other things, the low simmer of heat beneath his skin, the empty feeling in his stomach—beyond all of that, there is a tiredness in his bones, one that has his eyes feeling heavy, he snuffles against Dew’s skin, settles all of his weight in a way that would surely squish anyone else, but Dew revels in.

“That’s it, big guy,” Dew mumbles, slides his other hand under Aether’s shirt, palm settling warm against his lower back, “I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat,” he promises, draws a little heart into cool skin with a warm fingertip, smiling when Aether snuffles again, goes still, resting.

Dew sighs quietly, tipping his head back against the pillow and allowing his own eyes to flutter closed, surrounded by the scent of his mate and their nest.

-

Aether wakes first—to the scent of food and to the fading scent of wetness, pack and a voice in the back of his mind whispering predatorpredatorpredator, when he cracks his eyes open and lifts his head, there’s no one else in the room, but the scent of something makes him whine a little, press his face into Dew’s throat again to block it all out.

Dew’s hands, which had stopped moving sometime when he’d fallen asleep, jolt as Aether moves, nails dig briefly into the sensitive skin of his lower back, drawing a hiss from him before Dew’s moving, shifting under him and grumbling a bit at being woken up.

“Everything alright, big guy?” Dew mumbles, voice low and laced with tiredness as he pats at Aether’s skin, soothing over the ache and it takes him a minute, to wake up, to wheeze out a breath as Aether settles all of his weight on him, as if trying to settle inside him.

“Someone was here,” Aether manages, the words a little rough from disuse, his voice cracking at the end—he doesn’t sound weak, no, but there’s something vulnerable there that he can’t hide. “I know it was probably just Rain, but—” he stops speaking then, feeling somewhat like a fool for thinking ill of his own packmate.

Dew’s hand slips from under his shirt so he can cup the sides of his head instead, drawing him up and out of his throat so he can stare into Aether’s eyes—they're a little droopy, somewhat sad, tired—the weight of a once in a lifetime heat settling heavily in his demeanor. “Hey, Aeth,” he murmurs, gentle and careful, “It’s okay, I should have told Rain to leave the food at the door,” he tips Aether’s head to the side, leans up as much as he can so he can scent the quintessence ghoul, rubbing a cheek against the underside of his jaw. “S’okay, he didn’t come in the nest, he would never,” he promises softly, tips his head and presses a sweet kiss to his skin.

Aether exhales loudly and after a moment, settles down against Dew again, tension seeping from his body as he lets Dew tip his head to the side so he can mouth along his jaw, “Sorry you gotta deal with this whenever my heat comes around,” he mumbles, feeling only a little bit sorry about the way his emotions seem to spark in a way that makes something dark twist in his belly.

Dew smiles against his skin, sinks both his hands in Aether’s fluffy hair before drawing him into a proper kiss, “None of that,” he murmurs fondly, “I love how you are when you’re in heat, baby.” he kisses him again, longer and slower this time, until he feels Aether pawing at his sides, “So sweet for me, aren’t you darling?”

He hums something, low and infernal, tongue too heavy in his mouth to form proper words as he tries to chase Dew’s mouth, the thought of Rain’s scent in the room fading to the back of his mind, pinpoint focus solely on his mate under him now.

“Sweet thing,” Dew coos, kissing Aether on the mouth again, “I want to feed you now, alright? Something easy—” he pauses, glances over at the tray left by the bed, “Looks like there’s some fruit, do you think you could eat that for me?” he asks, cupping the side of Aether’s face, nudging their noses together.

Aether makes a noise, something half agreement, he could eat—there's an emptiness in his stomach that isn’t from his heat, and he tries to think back to when he last ate something substantial, scattered thoughts coming up with nothing after several long moments.

He’s rewarded with another kiss, chaste and sweet against his mouth, the taste of Dew clinging to his lips even as the fire ghoul pulls away from him.

“I’ll need to get the food, darling,” Dew murmurs, slipping an arm around Aether and rolling them onto their sides until Aether’s sprawled in the nest, half under him. “Stay right there,” he says, nudges Aether’s wandering hands away before he slips off of him, most likely to grab the tray.

Of course, Aether knows this, but that doesn’t stop the disgruntled sound that leaves his mouth, arms flopping uselessly to the bed—he may crave to keep Dew close when the heat itches at his skin, but listening to Dew and staying where he’s told to tend to overpower that need, the want to be good for his mate making him lay moodily in the bed while Dew slips out of it to grab food.

“I can feel your ire from here, babe,” Dew says with a little laugh, fond and full of love, “I’m just grabbing some fruit,” he turns away from the bed and that’s when Aether notices that he’s naked still.

Dew’s pale on the best of days, something left over from being born into the world a water ghoul, but he’s got some color to his skin now in his half-shifted state—lines of scales clustered in his lower back and along the length of his shoulders that should have scabbed over once the transformation had completed instead shifted with his temperament, now an iridescent burgundy color that seemed to sparkle in the low light of Aether’s bedroom.

His shoulders not broad, but wide and comforting, telling of the hidden strength beneath his skin, muscle coiled tightly, rippling with his movement as he reaches out to grab a few of the bowls from the tray.

Something happy settles deep in Aether’s belly at the sight of his mate, of the subtle power beneath his skin, his firm touch, the way he knows exactly what Aether needs before he even has to say it.

When Dew turns back around, his eyebrow is raised—there's another cluster of scales above his left eye, fading up into his temple and hairline and Aether’s gaze is drawn there for a moment—not that it matters, because Dew knows him, could probably guess what he was thinking about just now.

It brings a flush of color to his cheeks and as much as he wants to bring his hands in and cover his face, he doesn’t because there’s nothing more satisfying that having Dew’s dark gaze on him, taking in his body—the way his shirt’s rucked itself half up his chest and his underwear sit now just below the heft of his stomach, it’d taken him a bit to get used to it, get used to the honest gaze from the fire ghoul, the way it made him feel desired in every single way possible.

“Good boy,” Dew says, voice a little rough as he steps back closer to the bed, cradling two bowls against his chest, but Aether’s gaze is drawn downwards, where his cock is starting to chub up now. “Hey,” the fire ghoul says, a bit sharp, drawing Aether’s gaze back up to his face immediately, “None of that yet, food first.”

There’s a voice in the back of his mind, dark and demanding that whispers you are my food, the words wanting to slip out, but he bites his tongue and nods, shifts his weight back up against the pillows he’d been left on.

He rolls over onto his belly, buries his face into the pillow to breathe in Dew’s scent—somewhere behind him he hears the fire ghoul laugh and the bed dip as he climbs back up onto it.

“C’mon big guy,” Dew says, resting a warm hand on the small of Aether’s back, “Let me see your pretty face, feed you some fruit, yeah?”

Aether huffs and rolls onto his side, shifting until he can rest his cheek on Dew’s bare thigh, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of warm skin against his own slightly cooler skin, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when he curls a hand around Dew’s ankle.

Dew smiles down at him and places the bowls down by his thigh, “There you are,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Aether’s hair, scratching his nails gently against his scalp, “Just like a big cat,” he coos, feeling Aether lean into the touch, “Are you going to be a good boy and eat for me now?”

It’s an innocent question but oh, it makes the heat stir in Aether’s belly, makes him press his legs together tightly, eyes fluttering back open to stare up at Dew. He licks his lips and nods, turns his head to press a barely there kiss against his bare thigh before he tips his chin up and opens his mouth, tongue lolling out, patient and waiting.

Dew’s fingers clench in Aether’s hair, just for a moment, before he composes himself again, his cock chubbing up more where it’s resting against his inner thigh, “Good boy,” he says, voice a little rough as he gently places a cut strawberry on Aether’s tongue.

He makes eye contact with Dew as he pulls it into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it—when he opens his mouth again, his tongue is a bit pinker than before.

“Seven hells, Aeth,” Dew mutters, mostly to himself, feeding him another bite of strawberry, “Such a good boy for me.”

Aether makes a happy sound in his throat, graciously accepts the fruit that Dew continues to offer him, until he’s polished off the strawberries and eaten half of the pineapple chunks, his lips sticky and tacky with fruit juice, heat burning bright as his mate continues to care for him.

Dew’s mostly hard now, his determination to make sure Aether’s fed and well cared for waning away now that there’s less fruit in the bowl—Aether's scent growing sweeter the more content he gets.

Aether squeezes Dew’s ankle, turns his head away when Dew goes to offer him another bite of fruit and instead, mouths at Dew’s thigh, panting wetly against warm skin.

“Alright darling,” Dew murmurs, moving the bowls off of the bed, stretching his body as much as he can to get them placed somewhere stable—on the table or the floor, he’s not really focused, loses the last bit of pineapple in the bowl to the floor as he feels Aether tug at his leg. “I’ve got you,” he promises as he clamps a hand around the back of Aether’s neck, squeezes tight. “Let me take care of you, Aeth.”

A noise looses its way from Aether’s throat as he goes limp over his lap, the firm hand on the back of his neck keeping him in place. He wants to beg, plead for something, but Dew’s words, his promise to take care of him keep the words inside him.

“Good boy,” Dew murmurs again, presses his thumb against the side of Aether’s neck, where he can feel his pulse hammering away, “You’re so good, doing so well for me,” he continues, hissing a little as he gets a hand around himself. “Tongue out, big guy.”

Aether’s eager, tongue lolling out once more, the silver of his eyes swallowed up by the constellation of his iris as he tries to get closer—impatient, but Dew shushes him, squeezes the back of his neck in warning and Aether backs off, waits, patient and good.

“Good boy,” Dew repeats again, angles his cock to press against the flat of Aether’s tongue, cool and wet against his heated skin, “Shit, you’re such a good boy,” he murmurs with a moan, eyes fluttering closed.

He whines, the noise lodged low in his throat as Dew’s cock slides over his tongue, as one of Dew’s hands comes to gently cup his cheek, he doesn’t move—he waits, just like he’s supposed to, the salty, musky taste of precome heavy in his senses.

“Good boy,” Dew whispers in awe, looking down at the constellation flush across Aether’s dark cheeks, the way his lashes seem extra-long as they fan across the apples of his cheeks, eyes closed and content as he waits for Dew to tell him what to do next.

“You can suck,” Dew mumbles, traces the pad of his thumb over the corner of Aether’s mouth as the quintessence ghoul hollows his cheeks and sucks, moaning around his mouthful, already so far down. “Shit,” he whispers, cradles his cheek with a shaky hand as Aether drags his tongue against the ridge along the underside of his cock.

The heat in his veins burns brightly, urging him to take more, the promise of Dew’s come spilling inside him has him hungry for more, for keeping his mouth here, around Dew as long as he can, until the fire ghoul can’t take it anymore—he drifts, doubling his efforts as the hand on his cheek guides him to take more, to bob his head along the length in his mouth, until the lines blur together, until he’s no longer sure where Dew begins and he ends.

Aether’s scent blossoms into something sweet, swelling inside the room as he all but chokes himself on Dew’s cock, cheeks hollowed as he sucks him off enthusiastically and Dew feels a pull to it—he’s not rutting, but Satan Below, if anything could pull him head first into a rut, it would be Aether’s scent, cloying his senses until he can taste it.

“Babe, baby, babe,” Dew says, breathless, voice rough as he squeezes the back of Aether’s neck, uses his grip to ease him off of his cock after what feels like hours, shushes the quintessence ghoul when he whines for it. “Hey, hey, big guy, it’s alright, you’re stinkin’ up the place with need and I wanna make you feel good too,” he murmurs, placating, thumb brushing over Aether’s thundering pulse, “Lay on your back for me, sweetheart, let me get my mouth on you, my fingers in you.”

Aether makes a wild noise then, surges up despite Dew’s grip and tackles him to the bed, settling all of his weight over the fire ghoul, underwear sticky and wet as he grinds down against the curve of Dew’s cock—it pulls pleasantly, sates something animalistic and dirty he can’t quite name as he dips down and kisses Dew, his mate, firmly on the mouth.

Dew’s hands grapple at Aether’s waist, gripping his hips tight enough to leave indents behind as he guides his hips, making wounded little noises into the kiss, moaning as Aether bullies his mouth open, sucks on his tongue like he’s sucking cock all the while he’s getting wetter and wetter until he’s dripping through his underwear, slicking up Dew’s cock, getting his pubes saturated and wet—something that makes Aether purr, the animal inside him pleased at how he’s making his mate smell like him, how their scents are so intertwined it’s hard to tell whose is who’s.

Dew sucks in a sharp breath when Aether finally pulls away from the kiss, dives down and instead mouths along his neck and throat, tasting his skin and sweat and Dew feels an impatience bubble up in him, a need to provide that feels almost like rut but isn’t quite there.

His nails are sharp before he can think about it too long, easily slicing through the thin material of Aether’s underwear—he doesn’t dare move the ghoul on top of him as he pulls away shredded, soaked cotton until Aether’s blissfully bare.

His scent stronger now, no longer muted by cloth and Dew wastes no time slipping his hand between their bodies, nails dull and human as he sinks two fingers into Aether’s wet, clutching heat.

Aether moans wetly against Dew’s throat, shifts his knees further apart and sinks back onto his fingers, burning from the inside out—he can’t find the words, can’t help the way he all but rides Dew’s hand, wanting, needing everything that the fire ghoul is willing to give.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Dew manages to murmurs, curls his fingers and presses against the spot inside him that has his toes curling, “Just need to get you ready, baby, babe, just gotta make sure it’s good for you.”

He tolerates it for a bit, sucks a bruise into Dew’s clavicle, grinding down on the fingers inside him, mindless with pleasure, but the heat builds, grows exponentially until it feels like an inferno, he thinks he makes a noise, something pained, but he fights his own body’s faculties to get a hand down between his legs, to get it around Dew’s cock, babbling something as he guides the head of it where he’s already split open around Dew’s fingers.

A whine catches in his throat, and Dew doesn’t stop fingering him, even as the head of his cock pops inside, stretching him to nearly beyond what he can handle.

Dew shushes him, cards fingers through his hair as the fingers inside him press insistently against the spot inside him that has him shaking, “You can take it, baby, you just need it so much you can’t wait, I know, but I’ve still got to stretch you, even if you’ve already got me inside.”

Aether makes a pitiful sound, grinds against the fingers and cock inside him until Dew slips into him a bit more, fingers buried knuckle deep, the ridge on his cock pressing teasingly against his hole, almost inside him.

He sobs then, when Dew’s fingers crook up and he gets a thumb against his dick, rubbing circles against the sensitive head where he’s sticky and hard—his body clenching up right around fingers and cock alike as he comes, a gushing flood of slick covering them, a pitchy moan leaving his mouth when the fingers slip out of Dew’s cock slides into him fully.

He's being shifted around, thighs wide over Dew’s hips, shaky knees digging into the bed as he sits fully on Dew’s cock, clenching rhythmically around it—the hard ridge satiates a dirty desire in him to be knotted full—Dew’s cock pressing up inside him in all the right places, keeping him full and happy.

He grinds his hips down, small little circles and Dew hisses, digs heady bruises into his skin as he holds him, guides him—he’s babbling, calling him a good boy all the while the slick mess between them grows.

"Good boy, good boy, good boy,” Dew whispers through clenched teeth as Aether milks his cock, coaxing him closer and closer to his orgasm, he gets his hand on Aether’s cock again, circling slick fingers around it and rubbing, rubbing oh so carefully as he guides Aether into another orgasm, the quintessence ghoul shouting as he undulates on top of him, in his lap.

Dew guides him down into a kiss, hand on the back of his neck as he fucks up into him, Aether’s body sated and limp, happy—he feels Aether’s teeth, sharp, on his bottom lip and that’s all it really takes for him to drive up into Aether a few more times, coming with a harsh cry into the kiss, nails digging into the back of Aether’s neck.

He whines, pulls away from the kiss and shoves his face into Dew’s throat, shaking a little as he settles, as the flood of come inside him stops that voice in the back of his mind, the begging, begging, begging that’d been itching beneath his skin for days.

Finally quiet.

Dew’s arm slides around Aether’s lower back, settles there, warm and steady as he rolls them, until Aether’s on his back and Dew’s laying between his splayed legs, still hard enough to stay inside, to keep him plugged and full—there’s an itch of oversensitivity in the back of his mind but he pushes it out of his mind as Aether’s content purr rumbles beneath him, vibrates his chest, his own answering sound coming from somewhere deep within.

They’ll have to move, at some point, when Aether’s a little more aware, when the ache in his legs and thighs call for a change in position, when he’s able to form a coherent word once more, but for now, Dew is content to pepper kisses against Aether’s forehead and listen to him purr as the first round of heat settles.

[xhunnybeeex]

Hayden christensen character music/playlist headcanons 

playlists at the bottom of sections :3

❥ ~ Sam Monroe ~ 

Sam Monroe ~ mainly listens to mall goth/ metal, that's just cannon. However, he DEFINITELY got really into other goth subgenres while finding cds. 

Sam Monroe ~ would have to be forced to admit he loves riot girl movies. 

“Is this bikini kill in your mixtape?” you ask Sam as you dig through his cds. “I didn't know you were into riot girl music.” “I'm not,” he grumbles. 

Sam Monroe ~ loves angry midwest emo music. He loves the emo whine. 

Sam Monroe ~ doesn’t have a very diverse taste. He only really likes alt genres, but every once in a while you'll see him nod his head to pop songs on the radio. 

"this is clearly a differnt genre what are you talking about" sam protest. "Theyre all just screaming how is that different!" you yell back.

Sam Monroe ~ is the type to say “name three songs”, but only in front of other alt people to look cool. 

Sam Monroe ~ loves the goth culture but doesn't know how to become part of it, especially without getting bullied. 

Sam Monroe ~  loves making mixtapes with songs he likes to pair together, even if they sounds the same 

Sam monroe playlist done by me ⇦ ⇦ ⇦

❥ ~ Anakin Skywalker ~ 

Anakin Skywalker ~ obviously doesn’t have any cannon music taste so the following playlist is all what I PERSONALLY think Anakin would like to listen to or are him “coded”. This one was the hardest for me to do and is honestly probably the most inaccurate. 

Anakin Skywalker ~ is clearly pretty when he cries, and very lana del rey coded

Anakin Skywalker ~ would have a very open music taste, he listens to what people show him

Anakin Skywalker ~ likes classic rock and acoustic music from obi wan, sad girl music from ahsoka (oh you know she showed him mitski), and softer popy music from padme. 

Anakin Skywalker ~ never knows the names of artists, always has to hum songs for people to know what he's talking about. 

Anakin Skywalker ~ always asks Ahsoka to play her music when flying, but he'll always deny that he does. 

“Why don't you pick your own music for once!” Ahsoka groans in annoyance, rubbing her face in her hands. “Cause i'm flying! "Anakin yells back in protest. “Just admit you like my music.” Ahsoka smirks, plugging her comlink into the ship and getting her playlist on. Anakin stays silent. Pretending not to hear her and stares off at the stars in front of him as he flys. 

Anakin Skywalker playlist by me ⇦ ⇦ ⇦

❥ ~Stephen Glass ~

Stephen Glass ~ has a very diverse taste in all sorts of funky music

Stephen Glass ~ who lives for folk music but also is obsessed with pop music 

Stephen Glass ~ can’t not have Lady gaga on his playlists and knows all her songs. He yells at people who don't know summer boy because that's his favorite. 

Stephen Glass ~ who grew up on bob dylan and the beatles

Stephen Glass ~ was always a Brittany defender and refused to do journalism about her. He would never lie about the queen herself. 

“Did you guys see that britney spears-” his co workers gossip. “I need to be excused.” Stephen immediately stands up and walks anywhere from the conversation. He doesn’t want to hear what they say, and no one wants to know what he would respond with. 

Stephen Glass ~ loves to relax to calming 70s music. 

Stephen Glass ~ is a huge music nerd, but isn't even aware of it. 

“This is Joni Mitchel, she's super cool. She's canadian. I just found that out. I’ve been listening to her for years but I just found out. Crazy huh?” Stephen rambles. You chuckle in amazement on how much he knows and how fast his lips move. “Jeez you sure know a lot about music.” Stephen shakes his head and smiles. “Oh no, not really. I couldn't even play anything if I tried. But anyway did you know-” 

Stephen Glass playlist made by me ⇦ ⇦ ⇦

A/N///: OMGGG im very happy to fianlly have stuff posted again. i have been so out of it lately. this is my first time ever writing headcanons so go easy on me. i have had this sam monroe playlist made for a while now and it gave me the idea to make a lil post about it. i hope yall enjoy and maybe even have a listen. happy thanksgiving and stay hot. - beee!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Backburner 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is easy going until he's not. 

Characters: Sam Wilson, this reader is known as Dizzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Argh,” Sam’s grunt precedes him into the office. You look over from the cluster of desks, the lot of assistants in their corner, “Diz.”

You hop up at his beck and call as always. His gym bag is on his elbow as he rubs his hip and grits his teeth. You hurry over and grab the duffel before it can drop as he punches into the code on his door. He enters his office and you follow, holding the sweaty bag by its handles. You’ll bring it home to wash the contents. 

“Good workout?” You ask. 

“Stretched my hamstring,” he falls into his chair and rubs his thigh. “Protein, please, Diz.” 

“Of course, er, your sister called again.” 

“Yes, I know. I’ll be there,” he sighs, “she thinks I’d forget my head if it wasn’t on my neck.” 

You chuckle. Sam’s a nice guy. He’s the only manager in the office who doesn’t make you call him Mister and he likes to joke. 

“I told her you make sure that’s always on straight,” he kids. 

“Aw, sir,” you grin, “erm, so... I was hoping to ask you something...” 

“Can you ask me over my protein shake?” 

“Oh, yeah! Sorry! I’m so forgetful. Yes, I’ll go get it right now. Funky monkey or strawberry swirl?” 

“How about the orange blast. Something fresh,” he suggests. 

“Coming right up,” you nod and twirl out of the off, your wide legged pants billow around you. 

You drop the gym bag under your desk and swipe up your wallet and phone. You keep them chained together to keep from losing either. If you lost both, that would be an even bigger disaster. You put your computer to sleep so the screen saver whooshes around and you leave the other assistants. 

You head down to the lobby and up the block to the smoothie place. You order a double protein kick in the orange blast and wait patiently as you bounce on your feet. You check your phone; the group chat is blowing up today. It was so quiet for so long you were starting to get nervous. It wouldn’t be the first time you were ditched. 

You claim the protein shake and rush back out, barely dodging a man with a sweaty mustache as he enters in a muscle shirt that shows a lot of his chest and sides. You wouldn’t be caught dead in that but he sure does have the physique to carry it. He glowers as you dash around him and you leave him behind to be grumpy at his smoothie. 

Back in the office, you find Sam stretching out his leg. He looks a bit silly on the floor like that. You step up just next to him. 

“Hey, diz,” he says, “can you push my leg up higher?” He asks as he shifts onto his back and raises his foot up. “Don’t stop until I say so.” 

“Oh, sir, I’d hate to hurt you.” 

“Pfft, as if, Dizzie, come on,” he urges you, “put that on my desk please.” 

You relent and put the shake on his desk then return to grab his ankle. You push his leg up, his tailored pants resisting the strain, and he groans. 

“Ah, yeah, that’s it,” he puffs, “just... gimme a hand.” 

He waves his fingers under his leg and you give him your left hand as your other stays latched on his ankle. You wonder what people would think if they walked by in that moment. He guides your touch to his thigh, “feel that knot, I just need you to push.” 

You dig your thumb into the lump you feel under the muscle. He lets out a gurgly noise and drops his head back. He spreads his hand wide on his stomach and hisses through his teeth. 

“Keep going,” he encourages you, “oh, tell me... what did you wanna talk about?” 

“Oh, errrrrrr,” you struggle to remember what you meant to ask before you ran off to get the shake. It’s a lot to think about with his foot almost in your face. “Yes, sir, I... tomorrow morning, I might be a little late.” 

“That’s cool,” he accepts easily.  

“I’ll skip lunch.” 

“Hey, I might work out but I’m no tight ass,” he retorts, “alright, that’s good.” 

You gently let his leg down and back away. He sits up and rolls his shoulders. As he stands, he fixes the tuck of his shirt, his sleeves tight around his thick arms, and his pants taut on his upper legs and pelvis. The time he spends in the gym definitely shows. He’s hard in all the places you’re soft. 

“So, any reason for the lateness?” He wonders. 

“Oh, my sister asked me to pop by tonight. She lives a ways away so... might have to drive back tomorrow.” 

“Ah, mm,” he hums thoughtfully, “no girls’ night fun?” 

“Not tonight,” you smile, “but soon I think.” 

“Ooo, cocktails?” He goads. He’s always curious about your nights out. There aren’t very many, to be fair. 

“Yeah, probably.” 

“Retro’s again? I still haven’t been. Maybe I should take Sarah,” he suggests, “god knows she could loosen up.” 

“Sisters,” you tilt your head. 

“Huh, yeah, pain in the ass,” he agrees. 

He goes to his desk and grabs the smoothie. He takes a giant slurp, tasting it thoroughly as he swishes it around in his cheeks. He hums and doffs the cup. 

“Delicious,” he praises. 

“Well, anyway, sir, I’ll text in the morning if I’m going to be late. I’ll get back to it. Unless, there’s something else?” 

“Not right now, trust me, you’ll know if I need anything,” he shoots you with a finger gun as he sits, letting out another grunt. He rolls closer to his desk as you turn away and you hear him mutter, “damn leg day.” 

[hotvintagepoll]

Conrad Veidt (The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, The Man Who Laughs)— oh my god look at him in Caligari. I specifically said that he's from this because him as Cesare is just. MMMMM. he's so wet and sad and scrungly. and little. he's like a kitten left alone in a dark alley except he's also killed people (not his fault). something wrong with him (Cesare). as for Conrad himself. oh my god look at him... them big ole eyes and the walk of some fucking thing creature

Phil Silvers (Summer Stock)—this man has the single most expressive face in all of golden age hollywood (okay maybe second only to Donald O'Connor) and he is such a Perfect counterpart to Gene Kelly in Summer Stock. like, little baby queer lady me had such a soft spot for the funky little comic relief guys and he's the king of them all! his verse in "Dig For Your Dinner" [link] makes me laugh uncontrollably and every time i watch it, my brain plays "YOU GOTTA SEE YOUR DENTIST TWICE A YEAR" on loop for a solid week afterwards

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Conrad Veidt:

I mean just look at him. The wet cat energy. The ghostly eyes. He did the monster mash before anybody. Where would we be today without him, he even has one (1) song on spotify. I regularly forget he's dead and wonder what his next movie will be. He slays in any role. The Ultimate Skrunkle.

He's the ultimate scrungly to me, the basis for many of our scrungly guys today. he's so skinny and pale and he wears so much eye makeup

He was THE bisexual goth tumblr sexyman of early film. Seriously the old timey Tumblrinas would send him fanmail about wanting him to choke them. He inspired the designs for the Joker and Jafar,and was nicknamed the “Demon of the Silver Screen” for his horror roles. His first wife divorced him for crossdressing. Hitler sent him hate mail for speaking out about antisemitism. He really loved his wife and told the Germans to go fuck themselves when they threatened his job if he didn’t divorce her for being Jewish. Just look at me and tell me this guy isn’t scrungly he’s like a personification of the emo kid from Horton hears a who

[cw the below clip depicts assault/abduction and could be scary for some viewers]

Phil Silvers:

"it's hard to hold the screen against don knotts, but phil manages."

[sensei-venus]

Tanner in an interview getting asked about a rumor his gf is pregnant and him deflecting the question bc it's true but they aren't ready yet to tell

(Unedited) (Pregnant Reader)

“So there has been a very big rumor going around as of lately, I assume you have already heard about it going around?”

“I already know what your going to ask.” Tanner laughed as he sat up him his chair. They had been in this interview for almost a whole hour now. He was itching to just get up and leave.

“So, are the rumors true that you and your long-time girlfriend, Reader, might be expecting?” the reporter asked. They guys face was lit up as he asked the question.

Tanner gave a small shrug while saying “Well I believe a while ago both me and Reader actually gave a statement about kids.” the reporter seemed to sit on edge as he went on “We both would love to possibly have them one day. The both of us have discussed it quite a lot. Before and after we started our relationship.” his tone was filled with happiness. It was true that the couple talked about kids a lot in their time together. Both of them wanting to raise a family together.

The reporter raised a brow “So you confirm that you and Reader are pregnant now?” the reporter seemed on edge. The way he seemed to almost sit on the very edge of his seat was telling.

The recent surge of rumors that the young star couple where pregnant was flying around every social media platform. It took off the minute Reader was spotted at a baby store in LA. She was photographed by a passerby coming out of the shop with a large bag of unidentified items. The photos also captured her placing the the bag in her car before driving off. She was dressed in a very plain outfit of just a long baggy shirt and yoga pants.

Most fans were separating the possible pregnancy after the couple had taken a week-long vacation not long after the pictures were taken. Taking themselves out of the limelight for a brief moment and stepping away from the public.

Super fans were pulling up cancelation sheets of upcoming movies that Reader had supposedly been cast for but now her name was no longer on. New movie releases were scrubbing her name from feature boards. Already editing her name off of movies that were set to start filing in the following months.

It didn't hell the rumors that Reader had yet to make a public appearance after those pictures were leaked online.

“All I can really say is that we have talked about it before. The rumors are just that, rumors going around because my girlfriend went to a kid's store. I mean we have a lot of friends and family a lot of them have kids. She might have just been picking up a gift for one of them. You know how Reader loves giving gifts.” he laughed.

“So you can't say if it's true or not?” the reporter was starting to get more pissy with Tanner. His voice growing higher as he tried to dig more at the situation. Clearly trying to get a big scoop from this low-level interview.

Tanner was able to see right through his little game.

The interview was thankful cut short when Tanner's phone rang and the timer on their meeting went off seconds later. The guy who had been interviewing him looked totally defeated. With Tanner keeping tightlipped on the topic he didn't get much out of him. There would be no big scoop for his company.

Walking off he picked up the call, smiling he answered “Hey babe how are you doing? Better than earlier I hope?” a small hum was heard on the other side of the phone.

Reader rolled around on their bed for a moment before turning over. She shoved a pillow under her head as she went back to her phone. She sighed “I'm doing a little better…” she paused for a moment and looked down at herself. She knew she wasn't showing just yet, maybe if you looked hard enough you could see the smallest bump forming under the chubbiness of her belly. Running a hand over her belly she smiled “My stomach still feels all funky but that's to be expected I guess.” she giggled a little.

Tanner gabe a small smile as he walked.

“Did they pester you about those stupid pictures?”

“A little but it was nothing I couldn't handle so don't worry about it too much.”

Reader chewed in her lip a little, the trip to the baby store was a split second decision on her part.

“I know I shouldn't have gone out like that. I should have just ordered something online and had it delivered.”

“Babe no, you wanted to go out and do something special to tell me about-” he looked around for a second. Making sure there was no one around to overhear their conversation. “The baby and I wouldn't change that for anything. It was super sweet and such a surprise, I loved it.” a small laugh was heard on the other end making him grin.

“How about I bring you some ginger ale to try and help with the morning sickness?” Tanner said as he finally reached his car in the parking lot. As he unlocked it he heard a small sigh from Reader.

“I would love that actually oh and if you could pick up a big pretzel? The big soft ones?” he could practically hear the longing in her voice.

“I'll pick up two just in case, I'll see you in a little it. Love you.”

“I love you too Tanner, see you when you get back.”

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

Mid-Blueprint Nap (ft. The Demon Bull King)

I've been thinking about Red King a lot, so here's a ficlet with an accompanying art piece! (Or an art piece with an accompanying ficlet...?) It includes a lot of information about the Red King AU, so I hope you guys enjoy it and are interested in the AU!

Heads up: Red King has a funky little gender! She uses she/her pronouns and male nouns, so if you have problems recognizing which pronouns go to which characters in prose, this might be a little difficult for you to read!

2.5k words

‎

Despite her quick disappearance, Red Son—or, as the Demon Bull King learned, she was now a "Red King"—didn't abandon her family. She'd never been one to do so; his Princess had assured him that such a thing hadn't happened in his absence. (His wife hadn't explained why their boy left in the first place, which gave him the idea that it was a tender subject. He would ask her in detail as soon as they had exacted their revenge and taken this city.)

When he desired more power, the Princess called for the bull clones to get their son and she was instantly at the Flaming Foundry with a solution. She'd brought out the blueprints for the Furnace with an uncharacteristic indifference, and explained how she'd imagined that this would be what he wanted, so years ago she’d come up with an idea years ago.

She’d said something about being unable to make a prototype because she didn’t have his measurements (which made no sense, why hadn’t she just asked her mother…), but she’d updated the ideas whenever she could. (Her specific wording was ‘woke up’, but the Bull King had no clue what she meant by that. She couldn’t have worked on it every morning if she was this disinterested…)

After that, Red King (how odd it was, to think of his son as being a king now; how much he had missed) had built the Furnace, oversaw the bull clones as they fit the armor onto the Bull King, and then explained how the armor worked. Halfway through her explanation, her eyes began to fall closed and her words slowed.

He’d watched her nod off in confusion until his wife struck her fan against the floor and startled Red King awake. They’d shared a look—tense on the Princess’s side and tired on Red King’s—before his wife sighed and his son continued, going on about finding rare items and giving pointers on where to find them in the city. She’d left after that, leaving him to find a shoe store on his own.

Something was happening in his family, and the Bull King was completely on the outside of it.

But, nonetheless, they continued like that: Red King would arrive when needed, providing them with what they asked for, and then depart quickly—it was like she was leaving as soon as possible. Which, frankly, was unacceptable. It was disrespectful and rude, especially to her family! However, it didn’t seem new; his wife, who was normally intolerant to any form or implication of disrespect, let their son blatantly disrespect them without a word.

In fact, she seemed almost grateful for it. She would relax her tense shoulders the second their boy had gone, let out a snide comment about how she was surprised that Red King was still awake or how it must be the little boy’s naptime under her breath, and then return to managing the dig site.

The dig site.

The dig site was the reason that Red King was called here by his mother today.

The Bull King wouldn’t lie, he was getting rather impatient with the slow speed of the excavation of the power source. He could feel the power in his fingertips, but he just couldn’t access it. He was so close, but he had to keep waiting! He had spent hundreds of years waiting, and he wouldn’t STAND for it any longer!

His wife, understanding his plight, called their son. There was no reason to even think about calling anyone else. They needed a machine, and they needed it to be precise so as to not disrupt whatever power was down there; who else would have that done at the same speed their son would?

(She’d arrived only 30 minutes after they sent a bull clone to fetch her. She was never one to be late, but the Bull King was beginning to wonder if she showed up so quickly so that she could leave sooner.)

The Bull King had been on his new throne, chin in hand, brooding, when she arrived. Red King was still in that robe of hers, he’d never seen her in anything different. Not that that was particularly unusual—it was quite like his son to have an article of clothing she liked to wear often—but the more she wore it, the more he began to realize it didn’t look much like a royal robe, and potentially something more for lounging in at home.

She rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm before asking, “You need me, Father?”

He grunted in affirmation, grinding his teeth for a second before he started, “I did not spend an eternity trapped under a mountain to be forced to wait longer! This is taking far too long, and I need you to speed it up.”

She tilted her head minutely to the side as she mulled over his words, and then yawned. Agitation set into his bones at her disrespect, but she quickly amended, “Apologies for that, Father... Consider it done, I’ll have an excavator built by the end of tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but the growl he let out stopped her. She turned back to him with a confused and cautious glance, “Father?”

“I won’t wait any longer, especially not for you to return. I want work to start the second you’re finished with the drafting. You’re to stay here.”

She frowned deeply, “Father–”

“You are to stay here,” he shut down her protests immediately, slamming out the words “stay here” with utter finality.

She sighed and put her hand to her forehead as if nursing a headache, “As you wish, Father.”

What a rude little boy his son had become. As if he was wasting her time.

‎

Leaned against the wall nearest to her workspace, arms crossed, the Demon Bull King’s anger at his son quickly turned to concern. It was the concern that had been bubbling this entire time, amplified as he watched her work—er, try to work. He was beginning to think she truly did have a headache.

She was on her third blueprint page, frustration clear on her face; she’d crumpled the first one and ripped the other. He watched with unease as she kept beginning to nod off, snapped herself awake, and then spent maybe ten minutes working before she was back to barely conscious. Her pencil skidded across the paper far too often as her hand went lax over and over again, leaving white marks in its wake.

She snapped herself out of another sleeping spell and sighed miserably, a hand on her forehead the only thing keeping her from faceplanting onto the workbench. It was time for him to step in.

The Demon Bull King stopped leaning and walked over to her desk, arms still crossed, “What is the holdup?”

She scrubbed her face before looking up at him, “I can’t focus, Father.”

“Clearly,” he bit out. She scowled at him in return. He sneered back at her, showing sharp teeth.

She didn’t let up her own stare at his visual displeasure, so he lowered and turned his head. A threat display only meant to intimidate her and remind her to be respectful of her father, he’d never even think of hurting her. (He'd kill anyone who injured his precious boy, including himself.)

It seemed they’d entered their first standoff, like the ones she and her mother had, but the Demon Bull King couldn’t explain for the life of him why it was happening.

She sighed heavily—long-suffering and, again, miserable—before she turned back to the blueprints. After a moment's consideration, she began to speak: “I am making an excavator. It’s construction equipment for digging, a human-made design. I’m designing a boom, arm, bucket, and a cab on a rotating superstructure—the undercarriage isn’t necessary. I don’t imagine, we won’t be moving it from the Flaming Foundry, and we’re digging in one spot.”

The Bull King raised an eyebrow. Well, at least she wasn’t half-asleep anymore, and he wasn’t stuck waiting. He prompted her to continue with a nod of the head and a grunt.

She put her cheek in her hand and gestured around the blueprint as she explained, her voice still mostly disinterested, “I can build an excavator easily, but we both know you don’t just want an excavator, Father.” She chuckled minutely at that before continuing, “You want something that looks nice and sleek, but also looks powerful. But… how do I make an excavator look powerful? The arm, boom, and bucket will all be fine, you’ll like those as is, but I need to do something for the cab…”

Her tone concerned him so much in a way he couldn’t explain to anyone who didn’t know her. She was always so talkative and excited when she was a little boy, young and excited about her work—nearing manic. She would've killed to have her father's attention like this when she was getting into engineering…

Red King rubbed her eyes as she continued to prattle on about excavator cabs, noting how she normally wouldn’t struggle with the cab design but nothing was coming to mind. The Demon Bull King was not in the habit of lying, as said before, so he would admit she was entirely correct about him wanting something designed personally, and he did appreciate her care. It was a form of affection, he could tell when she said it, to pay attention to his aesthetics and how he liked his machinery.

Her chin was in her hands now, both elbows on the table. Her voice was slower as she said, “I might look back at old designs I made for you, but all of those blueprints are at mine…”

Now her cheeks were in her hands as her elbows slid forward slowly. Her eyes were slipping closed, and her words became just a bit slurred, “Mmm, i’sh not like I’m incapabul of designing somethin’”—she yawned—“I’m jush… so… tir’d…”

Down, down, down–

He slid a hand under her quickly before her head crashed into the workbench. She used what must be the last dregs of consciousness to bring her arms up to cross on his palm and cushion her face, and then she was dead-to-the-world asleep, snoring immediately. It might be a trick of his mind, but the Bull King was certain she was even slightly heavier in his palm.

Bewilderment overtook him as he stared at his son. They’d just been having a conversation—well, she’d been talking and he’d been listening—and now it was as if she’d been asleep for hours. He was stuck, half-leaned over and waiting for his son to wake, which he was certain wouldn’t happen for a while.

He sat down begrudgingly, ready to stay here until she woke up so that she wouldn’t bash her head against the metal workbench; this wasn’t necessary, but that would be an unfortunate way for his boy to be woken up, and Red King clearly needed this sleep. He huffed in irritation as his eyes traveled the room for a second, but they soon returned to his offspring.

The Demon Bull King realized quickly that he’d been unintentionally denying himself of one of his greatest joys: admiring his child. It was perhaps foolish, but no matter what anything thought of his boy, he still loved her. For years, he’d recanted the details of her birth to anyone who would listen for years and had memorized her zodiac (inner animal, true animal, and secret animal, of course), earthly branch, yin-yang, and element. He couldn’t shut up about his son.

And there was so much to admire, so much that was new. He paid close attention to her now as he cradled her in his palm: her even breaths against his skin, her thigh-length hair—warmed by her magical power as it spread across and fell between his fingers (and it was so warm, his boy was so strong), her cute horns that she'd grown scraping against his palm as she turned her head.

His son is was still little, like all creatures are compared to him, and yet she had gotten so big. So grown. 

And she was asleep on his hand like a baby.

‎

The Demon Bull King (again, not a liar) sat there for perhaps hours—he had no idea how long it was, there wasn’t a clock—admiring his boy and listening to her snore. She hadn’t moved an inch other than her body rising and falling with her breathing, completely in deep sleep and giving no indication that she’d wake soon.

“My love?”

The Bull King looked behind him to see his wife, “Yes?”

“It’s been four hours, beloved. Why are you still over here?” Concern colored her voice as she came to his side, a frown on her face. (She was so pretty, even when she was frowning. Or, perhaps, especially when she was frowning. She had such an elegant frown.)

He gestured to the sleeping boy on his palm, “She fell asleep.”

Her concern turned into annoyance quickly as she cast a callous look at their offspring, “Ah. Of course she did.”

“Her inability to stay awake is… concerning.”

The Princess scoffed, “Yes, it seems she’s given herself narcolepsy. What could possibly be so upsetting that she’d rather sleep for the rest of her life instead of having a conversation with her own mother, I couldn’t tell you. Did you even know we’re in her territory?”

The Bull King’s eyebrows raised, “Are we now?”

“Yes! The entire city is hers, but she refuses to take control of it!” His wife was exasperated, rolling her eyes as she continued, “She’ll barely even help her family take over her city! She’d rather sleep all day in that dreaded cave of hers—oh, well that’s not true.”—she checked her nails—“It’s a lovely cave, my love. You’d love the architecture, she put a lot of thought into it. It’s the last thing she’s put thought into for the last 500 years.”

The Bull King hummed deeply, his unease mounting.

“I can’t believe her sometimes! She doesn’t even send letters anymore! She doesn’t send letters, she comes without gifts, leaves before tea– How disrespectful can one get?” It seemed that he was not the only one offended by his son’s behavior, at least. But the Princess refused to comment on it in their son’s presence…

Why?

What questions did he need to ask to get to the bottom of this? Could he just ask his wife, “What happened?” Would that get more answers that explained everything but the core of the issue?

“If I didn’t visit her, she’d only wake up to eat every few months. Oh, and on that! She’s abandoned her diet! Not that I care about her diet, and we’ve all eaten people before, but it’s just another thing that she’s neglecting.”

“My love,” The Bull King sat up straight and eased Red King down onto the workbench with gentle fingers, “I think it’s time for us to turn in as well.”

His wife sighed and nodded, “It is getting late.”

They left the Red King to sleep.

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt4

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I finished and checked the word count and was like WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS ONLY LIKE 2K WORDS??? But anyway I was just going through youtube and became inspired. Because how else am I going to move the plot forward without torturing these funky little guys?

Warnings: torture, blood, injury, self-destructive coping mechanisms

Word Count: 2,140

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your face blanches when you find the man, Abdirak, injuring himself willingly for his goddess. It makes you sick. But the moment he’s offering his goddess’s blessing in exchange for the blessed pain she desires, you’re tugging your armor off. Astarion tries stopping you - of course he does. He’s seen what you’ve suffered, even felt it through your tadpoles. But when he grabbed your arm, trying to keep you from pulling your shirt off, you looked at him with the most pleading eyes.

“Please. Please let me do this,” they beg. The words die in his throat.

All too soon, you’re facing the wall, standing in the pool of blood. You brace yourself, hands against the stone. It’s cool and rough beneath your calloused hands. But callouses weren’t enough to make you feel free. Scratches and bruises from combat weren’t enough. You needed this. Your mind screamed at you. You don’t want this. But the thought of stepping away now made your skin itch.

“How wonderful!” The man’s voice sent chills through your spine. He enjoyed this way too much.

White hot pain split the skin of your back. His mace created a perfect lash across. Your teeth ached from trying not to scream. It wasn’t for his sake - he’d probably relish the cries even more. It was years of built-in training from your master.

Astarion’s face was tense. His brow was furrowed, his jaw was taught. His eyes never left you. His tadpole squirmed and he accepted instantly, letting himself fall away into your memories.

It was remarkably similar to your current situation, but you were where he stood. A scrawny, shivering form stood against the wall - he couldn’t tell if they were male or female, just that they were starved. A spawn, no doubt.

A whip cracked and several new lashes crossed their back as they screamed. The cat o’ nine tails was slicked with blood already. Their blood, but also the blood of those that came before.

He couldn’t look away. Long fingers wrapped around his jaw, nails digging into his cheeks. Cool air surrounded his skin, but the coldest came from the form pressed up behind him. He could feel the pinch of nails in his hip, too. Not enough to break skin; hardly enough to even leave bruises. But it was a silent threat. A disgusting display of power.

“You did this, sweet thing,” Kir Parthene purrs into his ear. She’s smiling - he can hear it in the tinge of enjoyment that edges her words. “Its pain is your pain.”

The torturer reels back and hits the spawn again. His heart jumps into his throat at their scream. He can feel the burn of tears; the pounding of empathy in his chest that aches and screams for this to end.

Her hand slides over his belly and he feels sick. “What did you do wrong, hm?”

“I screamed.”

“Good, pet.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “And why did you scream?” He opened his mouth but she squeezed his jaw, silencing him. “And speak up, sweet thing. Make sure it knows why it’s being punished.”

The pressure eased. He took a breath to gather himself. “Because it hurt.”

Nails pressed just below his sternum. She could dig in. Rip out his heart. Kill him without even flinching. She could feel the terror running through him. Through you. “Will it happen again?”

The spawn turns their head slightly. Enough to look at him. Their eyes are bloodshot and watery, begging. His heart drops a mile into his gut. Guilt floods through him. He wants nothing more than to run over and cover them with his body, shield them from all the pain and torture. But he can’t.

“No.”

She slides her hand from his jaw to rest at the base of his throat. Her mouth leaves messy kisses over the scar, still torn and healing and sensitive. “Good pet.”

When he’s returned to his body, you had two lashes across your back. Your nails dug into the stone. Your body shook. But you remained silent.

Abdirak’s smile is wide and wild. “That’s it! Welcome the pain. Let it become part of you!” He reels back again, preparing for a hard hit. Astarion wants to step in now that he knows why you’re doing this. He wants to cover your body, take the hit, save you from the pain.

You press your forehead to the wall and take slow breaths through your nose. Just one more and you would be blessed. How ironic, to seek penance with a goddess of pain.

The mace comes down hard, scraping against your shoulder blades and crossing over, combining with the other gashes. Astarion can see your exposed muscle. Blood drips down your back, but it is unappetizing to him now. You wobble from the pain, using the wall as support. You’re going to fall into the puddle of blood.

He rushes over, shouldering past Abdirak and wrapping his arms around you - around your shoulders and lower back, where you weren’t hit - and keeping you on your feet. You lean heavily into him, even as you try to keep a facade of strength and indifference. You’re even paler than before. Blood drips out your mouth, so much you have to turn and spit it out with a wince. You bit your tongue just to stay quiet.

“Loviatar herself found your performance… inspiring.” You look over your shoulder at the man. So much wicked elation pours from him, radiating in a sickening display. “She has deemed you worthy of her blessing.”

Astarion helps you turn to face your torturer - though, he thinks, you might see Abdirak as your salvation. Once he’s sure you can support your own weight, he cautiously steps away. Abdirak tosses a pinch of salt to either side of you and makes motions with his hands. A red glow briefly surrounds you, reaching up from the floor, from the blood, to bless you.

Abdirak smiles sickeningly sweet and leans in, too close to your face for Astarion’s liking. “And on a personal note, thank you. That was positively divine.”

You give a small nod, not meeting his eyes. You walk over to your gear and start pulling on your shirt. Your movements are slow and achy, and you keep your gaze fixed on the stone floor.

Astarion steps in front of you, hands stopping you when you try putting your shirt over your head. You start to pull away. You wanted this. You needed this. You were using this as punishment. But he couldn’t find anything you needed to be punished for.

He grabs your arms, keeping you where you are. “Stop being stubborn,” he chides softly. “You’ve had your atonement - you don’t need to keep torturing yourself.”

You hesitantly lift your eyes, just high enough to see his chin. Meeting his eyes feels too overwhelming. You nod slightly. He almost sighs with relief when you let him gently coax your shirt over your head and shift it to hang loosely over your back. You let him clasp your armor back over you, lift your arms and tie leather strands together, protecting you from any more damage. You can feel annoyance radiating from him, despite how careful he’s being.

Once you’re fully armored, you turn and lead your group away from the sickening man, from the fresh blood on the floor. Astarion follows close behind. He can see every wince, hear every sharp inhale, and taste the iron in the air.

-

Those who didn’t go with you are surprised when you immediately retreat to your tent. Usually, you linger around a while to help with any issues until dinner. Your companions tell the events of the day with hushed tones and worried glances to your tent. Astarion doesn’t hang around to listen. He finds a bowl and has Gale conjure some water to fill it, and a clean cloth. He barges through the door to your tent without asking. The flap closes behind him, and the rest of camp is shut out.

You startle, glaring half-heartedly at him. “Go away, Astarion.”

He barks a dry laugh. “I would rather our intrepid leader not get an infection because they were too careless with themselves.”

“If I get an infection, then it’s my problem to deal with and mine alone.”

“Funny. I thought you were the one prancing around handing aid to any Sally-sob-story, preaching companionship and togetherness. Don’t tell me you’re a hypocrite, too?”

You huffed, irritated. He could see your hands shaking. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can. Now show me your back before I get Shadowheart in here. I don’t think you want a lecture from her after all that.”

You weighed your options. Get scolded by your healer who could so easily refuse to help since you willingly put yourself in harm’s way, or get scolded by the only other person here who knew exactly what you were doing to yourself? There was no competition, really.

You sigh and turn your back to him, reaching over your head to tug your shirt off once more. You audibly hiss. At least you weren’t trying to hide the pain anymore.

Blood stains the cloth in your lap. You don’t look forward to washing it. Perhaps you could just dye it red.

Astarion settles in behind you, close enough his knees almost touch your hips. You listen attentively as he soaks the cloth in the water and wrings it out. He doesn’t warn you before he starts dabbing at the wounds. You hiss and jerk away. He sighs and presses a hand to your bare shoulder. This time, he dabs more delicately at the wounds.

“So, are we going to address the tarrasque in the room?” He can’t see your face in this position. Your body language can only tell him so much; he wishes he could even have a glimpse of your face to read your emotions. “I know you didn’t do it simply for the blessing.”

He can see your back shake as you let out an unsteady stream of air. “Did you see…?”

He hums. He dunks the cloth back into the water, tinting the water pink.

“Every time I did something wrong, she’d force me to watch as another spawn was whipped. Tortured for my mistakes.” You scoff. It’s watery. “I would never be put in their place. No matter how bad I was, I was always too precious. She wanted me to look utterly pristine, only marred by her teeth digging into me every night.

“I just thought- If I ruin that perfect image she’s made of me. If I destroy the thing she holds so dearly, I…”

He wipes away long trails of blood that’d fallen from the lashes, now dried to your skin. “You wanted to know you could disobey her.”

You nod slowly.

“The night I came to you… When I was hungry... I had a nightmare. Of Cazador.” He spits the name like it burns his tongue. “He had rules we had to follow. He beat them into us, made sure we learned our lesson when we stepped out of line. First and foremost, we weren’t allowed to drink from thinking creatures. No humans, or tieflings - even gnomes were off the table.”

He sighed and refreshed the cloth once more. Your injuries were deep, definitely in need of stitches, but he didn’t want to leave to fetch his needle and thread quite yet.

“After that nightmare, I was… scared. I feared, even in my newfound freedom, I wouldn’t be able to disobey. I needed to know that I could. That he can’t control me all the way out here.” He runs a hand soothingly down your arm. “She can’t control you out here.”

“I’m just so tired of being this porcelain doll. This fragile thing with pristine skin. Played with and used. I can’t be that anymore.” You shake your head as emotion chokes you. “I can’t. And if she does find me, I can only hope I’m no longer good enough. Because if I have to go back to that?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes are bloodshot and watery. Silent tears trail your cheeks in the same way your blood had trailed down your back. “Astarion, I…”

He hushes you with a quiet, “I know.” He squeezes your arm before he stands and grabs the bowl. “You need stitches. You’re lucky you have such a skilled needleworker around to help.”

You laugh weakly. You turn away from him again as you wipe the tears from your face.  “Thanks.”

“Just, please try to find a better coping mechanism. I can only be so nice before the others suspect I really do have a heart.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog

[luboy7rt]

Kick (COD Ghosts): Random Headcanons 

(Note: We don't get enough Kick content, so here's food. I ramble my bad. Just trying to get re-motivated for more headcanon stuff!)

- Kick would randomly just plops down near his comrades. Everyone can just be doing their own tasks and he's just coming by to invade everyone's personal space, but never for too long before he agites himself and just leaves.  

(Here's how I think the other Ghosts would react to this)

This could happen to Keegan who would look like a deer in headlights, like he's silently looking around for help. Help this man, he cannot. Keegan ends up just silently pushing Kick off to leave, leaving Kick groaning and being grumbley until he finds his next target or he would silently just sit there, stiff and unmoving, he is now a statue. Won't even breathe. (0.5/10 on Kick Rates)

This could happen to Ajax, a quick ‘what's up’ or ‘hey’ Is exchanged before Kick just lets his body go limp, his shoulders digging into Ajax's lap who ‘unfortunately’ claims he got used to it. Ajax's is pretty chill about it though, he couldn't care less. But if he's watching a show and Kick tries to eat his snacks? Nope, Kick’s getting kicked out. (8/10 on Kick Rates) 

This could happen to Hesh who is more inclined to just let it happen, I feel like Hesh is somehow the most uncaring about it. He's dealt with Logan all his life, and he has a dog who couldn't give a damn about personal space. Hesh just lifts his phone so he could keep doing What he was doing but Kick could do whatever he wanted as long as he respectable Hesh's personal space. (11/10 on Kick Rates)

This can happen to Logan who is alarmed the first time this happens, stiff as a board. Uncomfortable, unfortunately takes time for Logan to relax (-0.2/10 on Kick Rates)

Elias. Kick tried to lay over the man once but Elias left too quickly to get a good rating (Sad/10 on Kick Rates) Come back. Kick bets he's a damn good at cuddling/comfort too, he's holding out on him like that?

This could happen to Neptune, who's surprisingly chill with it as long as Kick didn't interrupt him on purpose or talk/breathe too loudly. It's comfortable and warm (100/10 on Kick Rates) 

((Pardon these next two, we don't get a lot on Torch and Grim so OCC))

Torch is unique. Sits weird, cuddles weird, Kick likes weird so (10/10 on Kick Rates)

Grim is funky, cold but ends up being the second best at cuddling after Neptune (Might need more experimentation/10 on Kick Rates) 

Riley? Fucking amazing cuddle buddy when hes up to it. Not so amazing when the dog farts, stinks like hell. (100/10 on Kick Rates. -1000 for the time Riley definitely let one rip on purpose just to get Kick to leave him alone) 

- He's very intelligent and also he very much likes to mess with people. Likes tapping into Keegan’s devices just for shits and giggles. (No proof of this, but Keegan just knows. Kick just knows how to cover his tracks) Randomly gives ‘hints’ when he's in someone's devices when he's not supposed to be. This habit stops after Keegan did some cursed shit to simply get him to stop. Yet no one ever got Kick in trouble for this habit before, they just assume it's Kick’s way of trying to check up on them. Lol, No. He does it for his own curiosity but he’ll let them believe what they want. 

- Kick likes to vibe when driving, making it his teammates problem to either ignore him or join in. He doesn't care as he's dancing while driving, ignore his playlist title, he's too busy singing under his breath to care about the done looks on his comrades faces.

- Neptune and Kick team ups are a vibe Kick lives for, he lives for slowly trying to convince Neptune to do something unhinged. He knows it takes a lot of planning, so Kick slowly tries to encourage Neptune to pull an insane stunt that will end up helping the team but also Kick gets the amusement he wants.

- He says cursed shit often, usually the others turn a blind eye to it. But sometimes some of the guys can't, hearing their little sighs of defeat make Kick's get a larger ego, it's pure bliss for him.

-  Kick finds it utterly hilarious when he sees Keegan's blank stare, just looking into his soul. He finds it to be the most funniest shit, especially when they're meant to be doing something serious. He lives for when Keegan hears some stupid shit and slowly turns to face Kick, slowly blinking (frog blink even better in Kick's eyes). Kick has to always bite his tongue just to not full blown cackle when he's not supposed to.

- Makes shitty PowerPoints instead of actually decent debrief reports, like yes. We did this :). No, we failed that :(. With a shitty gif misplaced on the right side of the slide. Elias lets it pass and ends up rewriting the damn report for Kick because he just can't deal with this anymore. It's shitty on purpose but if he knows Elias has a bad day? He writes the best damn report he has ever done and hands it in like a proud dog who finally caught Its own tail.

- I feel like he builds/fixes up PCs, Computers or Other technology just for fun. Especially old shitty tech? He would love it, definitely has a collection of just old technology he has fixed over the years.

- Feel like he doesn't believe in spirits or ghosts, but makes it a point to announce to his dead comrades he's going to do something stupid or he would click his tongue and flip off an object if it just reminded him of one of his comrades. 

(Ex: After Torch's death. One of Kick's candles sway too much and catches something on fire? Kick would blame Torch. It's all his fault, it could never be Kick's fault for placing that item too close to the flame.) 

(Hah just got the idea of  Kick ghost hunting for his teammates and then definitely messing with him, ‘Did you just fucking call me Honey Booboo Bear?’ Cue Kick staring at the camera behind him with such a straight face like it was the most horrid thing he has ever heard.) 

Ajax would be the ghost calling him Honey Booboo Bear just to fuck with him because he knows (knew) Kick. Unfortunately.

Kick, Keegan and Neptune ghost hunter Au/freetime? Feel like that would be funny.)

(I got more ideas for this, I can go on about it but I'll keep it short, Neptune nonchalant camera man who just points out things bluntly, funny but mostly unheard guy behind the camera but when he speaks up you know it's good, Keegan skeptic who's just here to say he doesn't believe in it and to scare Kick. Kick firm believer who wants to get real evidence or flirt with a ghost.), (Even funnier if they bring Hesh, Logan and Riley along, because Logan is side eyeing while Hesh would slightly be panicking because why is Riley staring at a damn wall for 15 minutes? Even better if Elias comes along to ensure his boys are safe and just drags his kids out when Kick tries to encourage them to do stupid shit. Elias doesn't fuck with that shit.

(I find myself utterly hilarious. Felt like I should say that. Sorry if its a bit short, thank you. Dw if you don't agree with some of these headcanons, they are just for fun!)

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S04E04 Metamorphosis

Disclaimer: this is a Dean critical post so if you are a Dean girl, please proceed with caution or keep scrolling..

I love Ruby's snark

You know that funky white shirt with red block print kinda design that Sam wears in this episode? Last week when I was doing Sam's wardrobe poll, someone described this as a white shirt with red design that kinda looks it's inside out. I always thought they said that because the print color is kinda dull but no. I just noticed that the print on Sam's rolled up sleeve cuff is literally darker than the print on the rest of the shirt. So i guess.. it is kinda like inside out thing

you knew this was coming but I hate Dean here. He doesn't give Sam a chance to explain.. his first move is to punch him in the jaw. Twice! Notice how Sam doesn't fight back. While I know Dean means well and he is trying to "save Sam" from going dark, but buddy, you didn't have to punch Sam. See Sam is a reasonable guy. Ruby didn't get through by throwing punches. She literally showed Sam the silver lining of using his powers. Dean could have talked his brother out of this but no, he had to turn this into 'Me or Ruby'. So ya, Fuck off Dean!

so after punching Sam twice.. guess what he does next... Throws furniture around.. see what I mean when I say Dean's love Language is physical violence

Dean to Sam: if I didn't know you, I'd wanna hunt you. Fuck off Dean! And take your hypocrisy along with you (because you were all paly pals with Benny)

oh so now you suddenly believe Cas?? Like two episodes ago you couldn't have faith that angels existed and now you believe him??

when Dean tells Sam that God doesn't want him to doing this.. you can see him shatter.. like he is so heartbroken that for once he was trying to turn his powers and use them for good and that's still not good enough. The way he answers his call, digging fingers into his eyes, trying to hold back a sob

Cathryn Humphris.. I don't recall exactly how many episodes she wrote for Supernatural but so far after BUABS and this one.. it seems like she does well on Dark Sam themes

Dean's first thought at young Mary: Mom's a babe

Sam's first thought at young Mary: was she happy? This right here is why I love Sam more

I also don't see why Sam needed to indulge Dean about YED bleeding in his mouth. Kinda glad he doesn't for a while. He knew Dean wouldn't take it well and he didn't.. probably just looks at him like he was evil or something

Jack chomping on raw meat, blood and bits dripping down his chin, completely uncivilized.. that's the kinda gore I miss in later seasons

Dean's passive aggressiveness is just as annoying as his actual aggressiveness

i like Jack for intents and purposes

Dean to Sam: nice dude but he's got evil inside of him. Something in his blood, maybe you can relate. Really Dean??? Wtf?!

Name and address of people responsible for Sam's hair in this episode!!! He looks so damn good!!!

finally an apology from Dean.. thank you very much

You see what I mean when I say Sam's a reasonable guy.. towards the end of the episode he does say that he won't use his powers

[sweatandwoe]

I (and I'm sure a lot of us) would go feral if you wrote original monster content. I'm talking climbing the walls, screeching, hissing, bite bite biting feral. I wanna smooch the cryptids. The gonsts. The lil funky guys in the gloom under the moon. Please. One day. I loaf you sweaty for that thot alone

🩷

why not, let's do a little test run

MDNI - Lich x GN!Reader. Reader getting overstimulated, Skull Fucking (not in it's original context), Necrophilia maybe? Idk he's a lich and consenting, Oral Reader receiving, Fingering Reader recieving, Boning (this is linked to the fingering). Dacryphilia mention at the end.

-

"You can do it, my dear. What's one more little death?"

One more might actually lead to your actual death. But your lover was always so very thorough in his work, and you were never one to complain about helping him research. Well, not usually.

But now there are tears in your eyes, and you're starting to ache. It was bordering on painful now. "I don't know if I can."

The man, if he could still be considered that, peers up at you. Eyes a cold flame, ice blue lights dancing in wide, black sockets. His head is solid bone, a skull staring up at you. Long fingers, notched and thin, pause inside of you.

"Oh?" The skull leans forward, jaw moving. The little muscle left along the bone helped to stretch it out and let a shadowy tendril slip out; the ghost of a tongue. It hovers there, curling and flicking like smoke though it was far weightier than that. You knew from experience, and you can hear a chuckle when your legs tremble. "Would you like to make good on that assessment?"

Fuck. The tendril moves up, flicking along your sex while his fingers continue moving, searching and pressing inside you. He's determined and you can only grasp one hand onto his shoulder, gripping his robe, while the other roams over chilled bone. His true name spills from your lips, forbidden and complex but your tears are starting to slide down, warm and fat along your cheeks.

He doesn't let up. The ghost of the tongue does not mean he can't speak, even if it's busy. The lich's eyes light up with each word and let each of the following sentences hang in the air before sinking into your skin. "Such a good assistant for me. Helping me explore all kinds of death. How many ways we can achieve this one, the little death before it breaks you?" There's a pause, before he crooks his fingers, pressing them against that one spot to make you keen out. He chuckles, warm and full of delight while his gaze rakes over your body. With a single movement, he's pressing forward his skull right against you, letting the cold bone hit your inner thighs. "I think after this one it will be five? Is that correct, dearest one?"

You're panting. Nails dig into bone while your teeth dig into your lower lip. "That's c-correct, Gar-"

"I think that will be enough for today then. Just one more, my dear." He doesn't wait. The tendril is no longer flicking against your sex, but rather engulfing it. Sucking and licking, it feels wet and warm, a wonderful contrast to the coldness of his natural form. His magic was always so warm.

Tears continue to leak, you're so tired, but you can give him one more. One more and you will be done. He will treat you so well if you give him one more. You force yourself to relax, to let his ministrations guide you through, but you're cumming with a sob and grind of your hips against his head.

He's nothing but praise, sliding his fingers out once your orgasm ends. "So wonderful to see. Such a good test subject." The tendrils from his mouth descend back in, but not before letting it roll over your thighs like a final caress or a soft kiss. He stays between your legs, gently rubbing over them with too-thin and rough fingers. Bones pet your flesh, and you don't mind it.

Finally, he lifts himself up, to stand and get you a glass of water that he had kept nearby. He dips the cup himself, and you know there is no option here but to drink. Heavy mouthfuls are quick to come as you realize your thirst. When he pulls away, turning to set it down, your fingers run along his robes. "Thank you."

The lich chuckles, thin arms wrapping around your body, until he can settle behind you. Having you lay over him, the robe helping to smooth out all the hard lines of his body. "I should be thanking you, my dear. I've learned so much." He shifts beneath you slightly. "Was it too much?"

You consider the fact that you just had the equivalent of a talking skeleton eat you out and finger you open until you wept. Surprisingly, no. "It wasn't that bad. Just got too..."

"Overstimulated?" You nod and he hums. "Perhaps next time, we can have some longer breaks in between. That may help with preventing some tears."

You gaze at him, meeting the blue flames of his eyes head-on. "But you like the tears."

His hand dips, feeling along your waist and then your stomach. He can't grin anymore, but you could sense it in the next few words. "Perhaps I should keep going then?" Boney fingers dip lower, following the line of your hip, hovering over your sex once again. "If you have no objections, of course, my dear."

You pause, thinking. "One minute break? And then you can get another one."

His teeth press on the crown of your head, the whisper of a kiss he couldn't give. "Of course, my dear."

You smile, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. "Thanks, Garbear."

Gary sighs, no air pressing through the slightly parted teeth. "You're going down to thirty seconds now, brat."

"You shouldn't have let a human pick your casual name."

"Twenty."

You had an odd feeling it would be a long, but enjoyable night.

-

Thank you to @golden-rats for the name of the Lich

[oneatlatime]

Journey to Ba Sing Se, Part 1: The Serpent's Pass

Alternate title: Gimme Appa Back, Take Two.

Bit of a mouthful for a title. I will definitely be watching this apparent two parter as two single episodes. There's commentary too, but that'll wait for a rewatch.

The previously on segment seems to point to Suki making an appearance. I didn't like her in her original episode, so this bodes ill.

That was incredibly ominous title card music.

Explain this to someone who's never seen the show. Also, air mattress made of ice is a very efficient way to get hypothermia.

Sokka saying "no more distractions' actually summoned a distraction. He should look into harnessing that power.

This brings up a point I've been thinking about. So the Earth Kingdom are smart enough to house refugee transportation underground, presumably because they've figured out that fire can't dig. So why didn't the entire population of the Earth Kingdom just become mole people at the first sign of fire nation attack?

Get yourself Iroh's brand of chill. It's dearly bought in his case, but he has such a good way of looking at life. Also, half of Zuko's face is like an inch higher than the other half, and that haircut is not doing him any favours.

Oh god it's fuckboy. I'd take a million Sukis over fuckboy. Nice to see that the majority of his posse seems to have come to their senses and deserted him though.

CABBAGE GUY!!! HI CABBAGE GUY!!! I MISSED YOU!!!

She's got a point about destruction of the ecosystem, but unless there was woodworm in that cart, that platypus bear is guilty of needless destruction of cabbage guy's possessions.

I loved this. The double punch of getting stymied by bureaucracy and undermined by cosplayers. There are some wacky ideas in this episode.

Aang! You may have lost Appa but you still have your glider! You don't need a passport or a ticket! Just fly to Ba Sing Se and make puppy dog eyes at the Earth King to make him send a boat to collect your friends!

You know that part in Harry Potter where Ron and Harry miss the train and decide the only logical course of action is to steal a flying car rather than, I don't know, wait for a responsible adult? I have a feeling this show is going to do the same type of thing with the whole Serpent's Pass. And I have to say, it's a brilliantly accurate way to do a plot that involves pre-teens, because they will often reach for the most out-there, illogical course of action no matter their intelligence. Curse those still-developing neural pathways. It also makes perfect sense in a kids' show, where the audience mostly wouldn't be caught dead turning down an adventure in favour of asking a responsible party (or a bureaucracy) for help.

"It is your pleasure" Get wrecked bitch!

I love seeing Toph weaponise that which previously kept her caged. I love to see Toph winning at life. Actually, I love to see Toph.

Get yourself some friends who'll commit to the bit no questions asked like these guys.

Get yourself a man who says your name the way Sokka says SUKI!!!:D Get yourself a girl who's so into you, she'll flirt with you in front of your entire found family.

Momo knows what's up. He's a good judge of character.

It's rare for me to advocate for criminal behaviour on this show, but after that bureaucracy lady denied them any sort of solution for the refugees who got their tickets stolen, I was kind of hoping that Katara would just say 'fuck it' and steal one of those ferries. Or even smuggle people on to them. They've got two waterbenders; they could make ice boats to take them out to the ferry, or even across the whole lake presumably. Plot dictates they go face this serpent thing, because this appears to be a monster of the week episode, but boy did that ferry lady need smacking.

Sokka's acting funky.

Is corniness one of the side effects of pregnancy?

No one in their right minds thinks that a pass called "the SERPENT'S Pass" in a universe like this one is named for its aesthetic qualities. Nice try at misdirection, but there will be a Sneky Boy in that water.

Aang's kind of right about the whole 'hope is a distraction' thing. Hope can too easily go from fuel to crutch.

It didn't occur to anyone to hide from the Fire Nation ship until it passed?

Toph's just saving everyone's bacon today huh?

Am I sensing some post-Yue trauma?

I would love to know the context behind Zuko knowing this very niche skill.

Jet has this fascinating ability to do objectively good deeds in such a sleezy way that you end up siding with the greedy oppressors. Weird.

This makes so much sense. Aang zipped into the Avatar State so hard and fast in the desert that he probably scared himself, so now he's keeping a lid on things so hard that he's scaring everyone else with his newfound apathy. He's 12, and this episode he feels 12. This is probably the first time he's met emotions this big; of course he doesn't quite know what to do with them.

You know, Katara doesn't get paid enough to put up with this.

Suki. Honey. I'm pretty sure there's a girl code about not flirting with a guy in front of his ex.

Has Suki been filled in on the whole moon thing? Or is she just really confused right now?

You know, Smellerbee is just as unusual a name for a girl.

Jet talks the talk, but I don't believe he'll be able to walk the walk, despite second chances being one of the big themes of this show. Something about him still feels off.

Hope you guys can swim!

Katara to the rescue again. I'm liking this new level-headed action-oriented Katara that appeared in The Desert, and I'm glad she wasn't just a one-episode character.

Momo here fulfilling one of my childhood dreams. There was an aquarium room at my local zoo that had a tunnel you could walk through. Seven year old me would have sold my soul to be able to glorp through the glass and swim with the fishes like this.

Once again, Toph saves the day. She's doing a lot of heavy lifting this episode.

Big Sneky Boy has the colour palette of an exercise video from the 80s aerobics phase. Kind of detracts from the terror when he's wearing a leotard.

Number one sign of irresponsible pet ownership: sacrificing your lemur to Cthulhu.

Aang just bitchslapped Big Sneky Boy.

Why didn't they go with a big ice bridge in the first place?

Yeah that's a problem. Could she make rock skate blades and attach them to her feet maybe? Would that help her see?

Guys. Just. Send someone out there for her. The ice doesn't have handrails. Come on.

Suki can swim in like half a tonne of armour. I bet they have swimming with armour on drills on Kyoshi Island.

"You can go ahead and let me drown now." That is EXACTLY my sense of humour.

Unlike goldfish, Big Sneky Boys can be flushed down the toilet.

"Now it's nothing but smooth sailing to Ba Sing Se." *Something immediately goes wrong* Has Sokka thought about harnessing his ability to speak things into existence?

Tragically, it makes perfect sense that Katara knows exactly how to deliver real human things.

"You know, as soon as I saw your scar I knew exactly who you were." Jet's little speech here got the biggest laugh out of me yet. I had to pause so I wouldn't miss dialogue. He's so deliciously wrong.

This episode's Beat Up Sokka quota is fulfilled by a baby that has yet to be born.

"I want our daughter's name to be unique" TAKE COVER FOLKS! UNNECESSARY VOWELS INCOMING!

Didn't you guys just nearly get killled by a pass that told you to abandon Hope? Are you sure about that name?

Ok it isn't pregnancy that makes you corny. It's being a character in this episode. While I'm glad to see the back of Stoic Aang, this is getting to be a bit on the cheesy side.

Hell yeah Katara deserves that cry. And that hug.

I'm watching this at my mom's house and I need to report that when Sokka said "You came along, to protect me?" my mom audibly went "awww!"

On a more serious note, this is exactly what Sokka needs after the Yue situation. A badass girlfriend who not only can and does take care of herself, but who also can and does take care of Sokka. Boy needs some pampering.

That is one hell of a wall.

That is one hell of a Big Sneky Boy.

"Appa's gonna have to wait" hit like a tonne of bricks. Another step in the journey to turn Aang from carefree monk to repsonsible Avatar. Appa having to wait is a genius story beat, but I want Appa NOW.

Final Thoughts

I had to check out my window for flying pigs before I started typing this section, because Zuko was consistently the most reasonable character in the B plot, perhaps in the whole episode. Apparently the 'make Zuko decent' project is finally seeing results. Have we turned over a new leaf? Dare I hope? It helps that he was juxtaposed with one of the single most batshit crazy characters from season one, but still.

I also need to issue a formal apology to Suki and all of her fans. I didn't like her in The Warriors of Kyoshi, and while I'm still not overly fond of that episode, I love what they've done with her character here. A good standalone character with her own strengths, goals, and responsibilities, and a good match for Sokka. I'd go so far as to say she's a better match for Sokka than Yue was, for all that both ladies have a startling amount in common: a position of responsibility, devotion to those who regard them as a leader, good taste in water tribe ass, etc.

I'm also going to hypothesise that Sokka is, in universe, the hottest member of the Gang. He's now had four girls expressing their interest: Suki, then Yue, then Azula's pokey pink friend whose name currently escapes me, and now Toph too! And she can't even see him, so his hotness is more than skin deep.

This episode was another stealth character episode in the style of The Blue Spirit. You think it's an action episode but it's actually character work with some fights for spice. It's got: -payoff for Katara's new-found levelheadedness -the other side of the coin on Aang's desert freakout -Toph doing just ALL the heavy lifting in the absence of Appa (seriously, teach her to fly and you won't need Appa as anything but a friendly couch) -Toph also getting an incredibly logical weakness that she learns she can rely on her friends to surmount -Sokka getting some Yue resolution from a frankly ironic source -Zuko getting what I'm sure is going to turn into a dark mirror

Speaking of fuckboy, there was nothing in this episode that hinted that Jet's turn to good was anything but genuine, but something about him still really makes my teeth itch. So I'm calling it now: based not on any evidence, but entirely on my own feelings, Jet's turn to good isn't going to stick.

There was some corny stuff in this episode, but it's a kids' show. It gets way more allowance for corny than an adult show does. I'll let it slide, so long as it doesn't become a habit.

This was part one of a two part episode, but it certainly didn't feel that way. There was the Big Metal Sneky Boy plot hook at the very end, but other than that it was a self-contained story.

I had predicted last episode that the rest of season two would be spent getting to Ba Sing Se, and they did it in one episode. So I'd like to announce my retirement from predicting the future because I am not good at it. I have no idea where we're going beyond next episode. I guess I'll have fun finding out!

[purlty23]

NASTY MOUNTAIN HEADCANONS

(cw for breeding, cum inflation, blood stuff, gore, intox, probably dubcon? idk)

I think he downplays how much he loves to overwhelm, in every sense of the word. In size, in strength, in his ability to give and take in equal measure (always close to too much, always).

His breeding kink is damn near unrivaled, and when he's in rut he has to fuck his partner unglamoured tso he can truly make them feel small. His favorite part, the part that bites through the crimson haze filling his useless mind, is when he finally cums deep inside them. While they howl at the impossible stretch of his knot, Mountain gets a clawed hand on this stomach so he can f e e l them swell with his load. How could they not? He's just so much bigger like this, it's enough to leave even Aether looking noticeably rounder. Don't even get him STARTED on Dew's results, though - that's a sight Mountain never wants to forget.

I think he uses his plant guy expertise to make fun and funky concoctions for his pack mates. Some of them (well, nearly ALL of them really) act as aphrodisiacs, but others have more interesting effects. He likes to cook up new things and sneak them into meals when no one's looking - mysterious powders and oils dumped into a pot of his famous Leftover Soup, masked with extra garlic or a handful of cilantro. Sits back for a few while they all dig in and just...observes. Watches Cumulus's cheeks flush and Rain's eyes go out of focus, sees Dew start to lean closer to Aether and Swiss lick his spoon with intent in Aeon's direction. It always dissolves into a relatively brainless orgy, and Mountain adores seeing his pack as crazed for each other as he always is for them.

On the darker side of things, let's say, I think he likes to use his size to his advantage whenever he can. Has a certain preference for Dew, Aurora, and any of the other slight/petite body he may lay eyes on - can't help it, it's a weakness. He just can't get enough of laying his massive cock on their stomach to show them how deep he'll go if they can take all of him and, oh, won't they try? Please, please try. No one's ever taken all of him before, and he just wants - needs - to know what it feels like. It's a lie, of course, but its amazing what you can accomplish with a well-placed whimper and eager hump to the thigh.

That said, he is not always gentle. Sometimes he needs a throat constricting around his shaft while it's owner chokes, clawing at his thighs while tears run down their cheeks and he fucks in a little deeper. Other times, he needs to pin them beneath him so they can't escape. Wants them to try, to squirm and fight and shove at his shoulders while he spreads their legs with so little effort it's laughable. He especially likes it when they cry, too full of him to have room left for tears.

When it comes to hunting, he's a viscious beast. Varied, though. Sometimes he craves a chase and others he prefers to stalk. Always in the forest regardless, where the trees hide him from petrified eyes and the sun above alike. They always panic so quickly in the forest - Mountain often wonders why the Bad Ones still run in here. Surely the stories get around? Of the Siblings who vanish into the night, never to be seen again save for distant waiting in the dense pines? Not that he's complaining, of course - who would say no to a free meal?

He definitely gets off on the fear too. Likes his prey terrified and hoarse from shrieking by the time he's on them, the rush of their blood deafening to his inhuman ears. It's not unheard of for him to pull his cock out right as he sinks their teeth into their throat, the gurgling sound that accompanies the rush of blood down his throat enough to make him throb. When his claws sink into their flesh, it's enough to make his eyes roll back.

Rain caught him in the act once, on a full moon night that had filled him with similar appetites. Had slinked out from between two thick trunks to find a rather grisly tableau - Mountain, hunched over the discarded body of a Sibling, tugging at himself with both hands, blood and viscera still dripping from his fangs and claws and getting smeared up the entire length of -

That night, for the first time, Rain swallowed every last inch of him.

I dont even want to add anything to this masterpiece. Brava, beautiful, I cannot believe youre leaving this art anonymously for us to enjoy

[disappointingcabbage]

TMAGP 20 thoughts, spoilers under the cut!!

The original title of the episode was Skin Deep, but they changed it to Social Stigma. Inch Resting… giving Ink5oul vibes…

Sam wants to talk to Alice and Celia Away From The Computers about the Magnus Institute. Smart but ineffective, though to be fair he doesn’t know they can listen on, like, every piece of technology imaginable lmao

poor Alice is Done With This Shit, understandable after her chat with Colin tbh

Oh shit Sam figured out the Protocol equals arson shenanigans…

The OIAR had the institute destroyed by Starkwall? I hate that that makes sense, I very much wanted Gertrude to have done it. Gobsmackingly uncommon L for arson grandma I guess.

Wait, not only did Starkwall burn the institute down, they also killed all the employees? Damn, seems like overkill but makes sense if that just means Elias wasn’t bluffing in TMA about how killing him kills everyone at the Institute.

I guess that means Jonah Magnus is super dead in this universe. Nice.

Also Gertrude either never worked for the Magnus Institute in this universe or she was able to quit before the Protocol was enacted and the institute was destroyed.

Alice makes a good point about not wanting to piss off the government by exposing real conspiracies, judging by the extreme nature of Arson Protocols, if Sam keeps digging deeper he could put himself and perhaps also Alice and Celia in serious danger

I love that Celia is advocating for Sam

THE LADS IN THE COMPUTER SENT SAM AN EMAIL WITH DOCUMENTS CONFIRMING THAT STARKWALL BURNED DOWN THE INSTITUTE???

But this time the email address that sent it was gibberish… I don’t think that was the case for the one that sent him Gerry’s address… inch resting…

The fact that they know they’re working for the bad guys this early on in comparison to TMA is really cool tbh

Celia is definitely not beating the universe hopping allegations with her “are we sure destroying the institute was a bad thing? They wanted to end the world” take

Alice is pulling a Georgie and noping out. Fair enough.

Celia’s still down to investigate, hell yeah

HOLY FUCKING SHIT INK5OUL MY BELOVED

Why are they tattooing in a warehouse? Odd choice of venue lmao

Oh, they’re tattooing a corpse. Sounds about right for them tbh.

The fact that they’re commenting on how Gwen has “nice skin” is giving me Nikola Orsinov vibes

The OIAR wants Ink5oul to be an external? Neat. Why weren’t they one already?

Oh shit Ink5oul seems to be in the middle of becoming an avatar and they don’t understand what the fuck is happening

They didn’t originally want to be Spooky, just wanted social media fame. Oof. Also doesn’t help that the first time they went viral it was a complete accident.

Oh shit the statement for this week is just Ink5oul talking to Gwen.

Lmao they accidentally stumbled into the spooky while looking for inspiration (and/or tattoo designs old enough to steal without getting caught)

So Oscar Jarrett was basically the original Ink5oul, and “adapting” his supernaturally flavored designs is the only thing that gets them fame

Ink5oul, bestie, I think your friends were right to be worried about you, not just jealous.

Oh shit Jarrett tattoos don’t decay? Funky!! That explains all the grave robbing.

It’s kind of hilarious that constantly changing venues due to running from the law just kind of helped with Ink5oul’s branding online like no one thought it was suspicious at all, they were just like “ooh spooky blorbo”

Oh damn, emulating Jarrett’s work changed Ink5oul’s own work and made it Spooky? AND it made them want to see people afraid? Yeah this is some avatar shit.

Ink5oul does not in fact want to be an external. That tracks tbh

Gwen do Not talk town to the spooky ink person

“This is the part where you start running” Gwen pissed off the wrong one lmao

[aroaceleovaldez]

comp of your favorite jason panels maybe?? or maybe an octavian doodle?? i was hit with the silly beam and now i need more blonde roman boys content. mayhaps add any other blonde romans boys you have crafted. i desperately need rick to flesh out camp jupiter the potential is insane - @argoii-official's mod erratum 🤭

MOD ERRATUM!!!!!!! i blow a little kiss to your askblog one mun to another. Tumblr decided it absolutely hated me putting images on this post so I will make a separate one for the favorite deadangelos Jason panels later. A little tiny Octavian for you though (he's grumpy):

and i will dig through my romans to see if there's any other interesting blond boys in there (i still have like two and a half cohorts to design plus messengers and medics, so there is still plenty of opportunity). let's see... oh yes I do indeed have some funky lil blond boys.

Lore for them below the cut:

okay, starting with the canon boys: Jacob i've made a son of Venus and i've decided is best friends with Terrel and Bobby. He's a shy and quiet kind of guy but he's doing his best. Also insert my hc about 5th cohort being more likely to be direct descendants versus legacies here (cause something something lack of letters of recommendation). Also because of a mistranslation about his job title my group chat has decided his demigod weapon is a gun. Julius i made a legacy of Indiges (deified Aeneas) based on his name. I haven't decided too much for him other than I think it would be interesting if Jason used to have a crush on him at some point.

VES okay Ves is fun. So first things first: scene kid my beloved. Scene kid with a bee theme. The joke is the hair stripes. His lore is that he's a legacy of Mellona (goddess of honey/bees) and he has a big ol' crush on Gerard, because Gerard is emo and they have similar music tastes.

Gerard i am going to be completely honest is 100% themed on MCR. I like listening to music when I design characters and I thought it'd be funny also i realized the name Gerard works thematically for a Mars kid. It all came together. Anyways he's emo, he's an MCR fan, no he does not know Ves has a big ol' crush on him. Ves is dying, squirtle.

Edgar is a son of Lua, a goddess to whom weapon spoils of war were sacrificed to. He's just kind of a cool edgy guy. Not pictured is his bestie, a girl named Felicity Pace, who is a legacy of Abundantia and Pax, and is also in 4th cohort. They're opposites-attract thematically (war vs peace, low energy vs high energy) but also they're both fashionistas and extremely dramatic.

Anton is my extremely self-indulgent pointing at Mars and how to the Romans he was also a god of civilization and ideal Roman life, which included him being an agricultural god, so legacy of Mars and child of Ceres. He's grumpy but he's very passionate about plants.

They're all mostly just meant to be background characters fleshing out Camp Jupiter for Deadangelos so they don't have a ton of meat to them, but I like to try and give them all at least something. At the very least a hobby, theme, interest, or relationships. Something along those lines.