#i need him something awful

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

Seeing the few pieces of Stan art with him having a wedding band just makes my brain go

✨BRRRRRR✨

And makes my domestic life need go feral.

[rhettabbotts]

joaquin phoenix dilf!

[bunnieswithknives]

OH MY GOD??? HAS IT SERIOUSLY BEEN A MONTH????? I am so sorry guys

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[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.

[somegrumpynerd]

When you find out years later that you accidentally named one of your henchmen

Image ID: A multi-panel comic featuring au sanses. Panel 1: In Killer's original universe. A dark figure stands in the foreground while Killer is sitting back in the snow, covered in blood. Killer says "wh-what are you?" Panel 2: The dark figure is Nightmare but only his smile is visible. He says "I am Nightmare, guardian of all negativity in the multiverse ...and I have a proposition for you, Sans." Panel 3: Nightmare's hand is outstreched, he says "Come with me willingly and I'll take you out of this desolate and barren universe and let you loose on many others." Panel 4: Killer is looking back at Nightmare warily, a thought bubble shows he is thinking "other universes...?". He says "...in exchange for what? What do you want with me?" Panel 5: Nightmare's tentacles are reaching out towards Killer. He says "I feed off the fear and misery and hatred in this world, stirring these up will keep me powerful enough to fight against the guardian of positivity. In short," Panel 6: Nightmare is looming over Killer now, his tentacles surrounding him. He says "I just need you to be a good little killer." The word killer is in red text. Panel 7: Killer is grasping Nightmare's hand, having accepted his offer. Panel 8: Now in a different au, Nightmare stands beside Killer as he taunts Dream, who is out of frame. He says "You're outnumbered now Dream, I have a killer with me this time." The word killer is in red text again. Panel 9: Dream is lying on the ground looking hurt and ruffed up. Killer is standing in the background, looking ready to continue beating Dream up. Nightmare says from out of frame "You should know better than to turn your back on a killer by now." The word killer is in red text again. Panel 10: Nightmare is standing by Killer again, looking smug. He says to Dream, who is not shown "You'll need more than that pathetic bow next time you meet with my killer here." The word killer is in red text again. Killer is looking towards Nightmare, pleased with this. Panel 11: We are now in Nightmare's castle, present day. It is revealed to be Killer telling these events to Dust, who looks bored. Killer says "-and the name stuck, so that's why I'm called Killer now." Dust says very quietly "did I ask" Panel 12: Nightmare is standing in the corner behind them, he looks very surprised and concerned after hearing all this. Text with an arrow pointing to him reads "Didn't realise he had done this." Killer from out of frame says "he doesn't really call me his killer anymore tho" with a frowny face. Dust, also out of frame, says "that's nice now shut up" End ID.

[plush-rabbit]

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

-

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money.. 

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone. 

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted. 

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between. 

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea. 

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything. 

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.” You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back. 

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands. 

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

-

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers. 

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes. 

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed. 

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?”  He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.” 

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half. 

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart. 

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.” 

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you. 

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt. 

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire. 

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain. 

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten. 

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips. 

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.” 

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin. 

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst. 

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands. 

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns. 

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools. 

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it. 

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy. 

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell. 

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers. 

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you. 

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered. 

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble. 

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat. 

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his  mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy. 

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval. 

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

[wassupmygays]

i love you tiny costume details. i love tiny pieces of jewelry or patches that add so much to a character. i love you costume designers that allow for personalization. i love you i love you i love you

[starry-bi-sky]

new Danyal al Ghul au just dropped! --or at least some art of it did. I call it the "Stillborn? No, no, still born" au (or stillborn just for short)

it's based off a batfam comment I saw that mentioned in the early comics Bruce knew about Talia's pregnancy and was ecstatic to be a father. So much so that Talia feared he'd give up being Batman for it, so when she gave birth she put the baby (Damian) on a doorstep and (seemingly) told Bruce that the baby was stillborn.

I saw it, thought "mm, tasty!" and thought what if that baby was Danny instead of Damian? By default I was thinking of making him a few years older, however, it works just as well with demon twins. I need to think it over. Meet Daniel Brown! 14 year old foster kid whose been with the Fentons for the last two years! He has SO many issues haha. hah. lmfao even.

Danny's theme song is literally just "Good Kid" from the Percy Jackson musical, to sum him up.

[mollysunder]

The funniest thing about Jayce is that while yes, he's juggling other peoples' interests/loyalties, he's only sort of malleable and mostly kind of uncontrollable. People can tell Jayce something and he will in fact listen to it, absorb the new information, but it's a genuine gamble to guess what he does with that information.

Heimerdinger tells him exactly how to avoid punishment for his trial and Jayce DOESN'T do it. Jayce decides to defend himself and the merit of his work. The Medardas want hextech weapons (for varying reasons), Viktor says no, meanwhile Jayce already has blueprints laminated and framed in his room.

Jayce didn't ask to be a Councilor, but he immediately throws himself into rooting out corruption. When Mel tells him he's gonna need to play ball to stay alive politically, Jayce goes, "Ball is life". Then Jayce manages to amass enough political capital to kick off HEIMERDINGER of all people.

Second to Jinx, Jayce is the character that asserts the most agency in the cast. People really try to pull Jayce in this and that direction, but his character, his morals, just who he really is pushes at any supposed binary others try to place him in. The choices he makes always align with his core, and it inevitably puts others in a position to accept the consequences of bringing up the issue to him in the first place.

[beanghostprincess]

Luffy not knowing about Zoro promising Sanji to kill him if he ever ends up losing himself makes me go feral because that's something they can only know about. Because Zoro's respect for life and death goes beyond anything, and Sanji knows he understands. Sanji knows that if somebody has to kill him, it's him.

And I don't even think it's because Sanji assumes Zoro's opinion of him is hatred and it would hurt less for him to do this, but because Sanji knows only Zoro would be able to treat the promise as it is. Because he would put Sanji's wishes before any feelings he has for him. It's not that Zoro doesn't care, but I think he respects people's ideals and decisions to the extent of being able to kill Sanji if he so desires.

That being said, he'd do it if there's no other way to fix it. If it's either dying or living as an emotionless machine, which is the same as dying for Sanji, Zoro would fulfill his promise. And there is just... Something about Luffy not knowing. Their captain. The man they're devoted to the most as if he were their God. Luffy doesn't know. It's something only the captain's wings are aware of and the thought of these two keeping this from Luffy until the end is just insane. Not even trying to make it romantic here, but the bond and respect these two have for each other is crazy.

Maybe it's the poetry of it all, too. Somebody like Zoro, who has looked at Death in her face multiple times and said "no", ending Sanji's life, who wants to give in to death to not experience a fate worse than death for him.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Hopes and wishes for next season:

Yes, they find out Colin is dead. But he left tons of media for Alice to follow and find to help her solve the mystery. Because he really genuinely liked Alice, and wanted her to be able to UNDERSTAND and help and/or get away. It's heartbreaking to hear him go from grumbling to obsessive to horrified to quietly sad all over again. We mourn him as a forever what if, but he also helps Alice lots in Plot Related Stuff.

Sam!Comes!Back!Wrong!Sam!comes!back!a!litte!evil! Sam's tired of being nice, he's going full Apeshitt. I COULD see him only coming back mid-season or even as a GASP for the finale of s2 tho. But he's so main character coded, proobably more mid-season?

Very obviously Gwen is sooooo over her head. Gwen keeps messing up and trying to cover it up in more and more desperate ways until she HAS to ask someone for help (preferably Lena would be amazing, although Lena going "..No, thank you Gwen" would also be delicious).

[dirtytransmasc]

ATLA! Avatar au ramblings, cause I need them out of my skull:

[Disclaimer: this is basically just Avatar, but if there were benders. there are no rules. god is dead. I wear his crown. we go by my rules now, even if they break atla canon. canon is a suggestion now]

each clean tends to be made up of benders from two of the elements, people from the clan can carry both traits, even if one is dormant.

for example, the Omatikaya are made up of earth and airbenders. both Mo'at and Eytukan were airbenders, yet their daughter Neytiri was an earth bender, and Sylwanin was also an air bender.

Humans are rarely benders, at least compared to the Na'vi, as the destruction of Earth led to the loss of benders, but when they are benders, they have only been fire benders. this includes avatars. the RDA specifically targets and recruits fire benders.

Fire benders are rare on Pandora. very few clans produce fire benders. and with the destruction the humans and the RDA have caused, fire benders are almost taboo, especially in the forest clans that faced the brunt of their efforts.

Jake is a fire bender, he is heavily disconnected from the idea of spirit, fluidity, or nature within his bending. it gets better as he lives with the Omatikaya, but old habits die hard, so he'll ways be a messy fire user, and his fighting style is messy, MMA like, the reckless assault of a soldier and not an art. he doesn't truly incorporate his bending into his day to day life either, it's like a gun to him, not a part of his spirit and being.

Neytiri is an earth bender (and in my world, they can bend plants, because fuck you). while she is known for her combat on Ikran back, she is just as deadly in face to face combat, as she is a heavily offensive fighter, and she will punch you in the throat with a dagger she pulled from the earth. but in a more casual day to day, she uses it to get around the forest, to weave and craft, to cook even. she makes something solid like stone and wood look as fluid as air, and something as delicate as plant life look deadly and jagged. and as a healer she uses it not only to cultivate and refine healing plants, and even bone bend.

a fire bender and an earth bender, have 3 kids:

Neteyam is an earth bender, he presented quite young, maybe 5 or 7, and he takes after his mommy, with the added aggression of Jake's fire bending attitude. he inherited less of his mother's likeness to plant bending, but can magma bend extremely well for his age, keeping that same fluidity. but as much of his life is taken up by combat and training, he's also a crafter and has plenty of little siblings bringing him rocks and asking him to make them beads, so he's also doing a lot of that. (he has attempted to bend a tree fort into existence and fell through it and on his ass, trust, I was there)

Tuk is an air bender. she's only presented around 7, and only in little gusts, so she hasn't cultivated an exact style, she can only really play with little gusts of air, or go gliding about on her glider, but only when a sibling is with her, in case she falls. she's also just an agile little thing.

Lo'ak (for angst value) doesn't present for a long while, he makes it to nearly 13 before presenting, and he ends up being a fire bender.... which did not help his self image, in any manner. not only is he the demon blooded son, the one that never lives up to Jake and Neteyam, who looks like a freak, but now he's a fire bender too? just shoot him now.

Kiri, the child of Grace, who was not a bender, and Eywa, is an air bender (she's already Pandora Jesus, I'm not putting her through being the Avatar as well). she presented at 5, it never seemed like a big thing to her. Neytiri found her floating and that was that. she is heavily connected to her spirit, so she can astral project, and her world, which makes her very hyper sensitive to her surroundings. she uses her air bending to carry stuff, be more spry (in the comics she tends to fall behind her siblings, even Spider, who is much smaller than her. her air bending gives her the leg up to help her keep up). even after she gains an ikran, she tends to go gliding or just. floating. for funsies.

that leaves my son, my baby boy, Spider:

I'm making him the fucking avatar because I can.

[more bullshit below, this is just very long and I'd feel bad posting this behemoth and clogging people's feeds]

he is Eywa's first Sky child, her golden boy, and he is the bridge between humans and Na'vi— he is Na'vi in all but body, and human in all but soul —so she knows if anyone can soothe the tensions ripping her world apart, it will be him.

he starts out as a fire bender.

no one is shocked, even though he gave off his first sparks as a toddler. his parents had both been fire benders— Quaritch had mastered combustion, and Paz was known to give off smoke when pissed —this gets him even more ostracized than he was in canon from the get go. no one wants much to do with the fire bending son of Quaritch. no one can truly trust him, even as a child.

who's to say when he will become the wildfire everyone assumes he will become? who's to say he's not dangerous, even as a child? especially without the help of a fire bending master to aid him (could Jake do it? yes. do I think Jake would commit to that long term? absolutely not).

despite this, the Sully kids are his siblings, from the moment they meet. he's their big brother, watching out for them, promising his flames as their shield, forever and ever. no one will ever hurt them. that they don't need to be scared of him, because he'd burn himself to a crisp before burning them. and his will is so strong, he's never accidentally burned them like he has others. his spirit knows better. it's strong enough to render the heat to nothing.

so the second Spider can leave the confines of Hellsgate and go out into Eywa's jungle, he is more than pleased to do so. he isn't judged there. the animals don't flinch away from him or stare at him like they're seeing secrets from the future.

he bends in secret, first with fire, just dancing a flame over his hands, slowly gaining trust in himself and his control, and developing his own style of bending, one similar to the airbenders of the clan, as that's the closest thing he has to go off of.

and if he has dreams of Toruk like creatures, showing him the art of fire, when he falls asleep in the grassy clearings of Eywa's world, he won't question it.

and when he hears whispers of 'try it' when he thinks of attempting to bend a different element, even just pretending, child's play, he listens, because he trusts the soft voice in his ear.

he bends air first. while not rare, those who bend air are considered special, connect to the spirit of Eywa. it's a sign. well, it would be had anyone paid enough mind to the boy to see it.

air bending comes naturally. he'd been watching those around him air bend for years. he'd mimicked their movements while playing with his siblings. it feels right. like it was what he was destined for (Eywa just needed time to manipulate his soul). it keeps him alive in the jungle, not only cause it allows him to take riskier paths and such, but also because it allows him without an exopack.

earth comes next. again. he'd watched earth benders for years. longed to manipulate the forest like them. to create instead of destroy. wanted to heal instead of heal. wanted to use brute forced over his flames, because his flames were looked at with fear, while the other boys trained their bending and were cheered on. he can work plants as if it was as easy as breathing. weaving them together into forts and hide outs and supplies.

water is last, and seeing as it's the opposite of his birth element, he has no mentor, and not even a faint clue on how it works, it is his weakest. but he has an affinity for healing, even if it only works on little cuts and scrapes, maybe a bruise if he's lucky.

by twelve he is mostly living on his own in the woods. it's near impossible to keep him in the compound anymore. he's not interested.

no one has any idea what he is. Spider can't even fully believe it himself and all's down spirals of thinking he's giving into his human greed, somehow (don't blame him, he's just a little guy, a dumb little guy who doesn't know maths, and grew up around people who all but hated him. let him have a dumb dumb complex).

the only people who have a slight idea are his siblings; he bends too much on instinct. he reached out to catch his siblings, shifting the ground beneath them just a tad, or shooting a vine around their ankle or using a swift puff of wind to stop their descent. he heals small cuts while thumbing over them, rolling a little bead of water on the broken or bruised skin. he brings them up into elaborate tree forts.

his siblings only keep from saying something because of the look of pure terror he gets on his face when he catches himself.

as time goes on, he becomes more open with them. by 15 it's common knowledge amongst them who and what Spider is, but he still won't let them tell the clan. but he has Kiri and Neteyam to help him with his air and earth bending, as they can regurgitate their own lessons back to him, which makes him stronger over all, even if he continues to use his own methods.

Jake and Neytiri only find out the night he was taken; when he gave his all to protect his baby siblings from the recoms, all fire benders, and exposed the level of power he held... and was subsequently taken for.

and then he gets adventures with his papa and the squad. that he is so so so so so happy about (kill him).

bonus info that doesn't fit into the vaguely timeline coherent ramblings above:

Spider is a healer by nature, it's in his heart and soul. so while he trains himself for combat, it's simply natural for him to want to fix things, to help people, to give himself and his power over if it means he can soothe one ache in his people. so Spider learns all of the healing arts he can. he develops his own even. refines bone and blood bending to heal people. uses the scientific understanding of things that he picked up as a human to make better medicines, etc.

speaking of blood/bonebending. my boy is going to snap at some point during his captivity and fuck some people up with that, because he knows the dogs of the RDA deserve it. perhaps it's after Neteyam's death that triggers it. or maybe the Tulkun hunt/attack on the Ta'unui. it's something, something that has him going in a carnage spree.

he will train with Mo'at and Ronal when they find out about him. Mo'at will knowingly pass him over — she knew early in he was special, but knew, in terms of his learning, the forest was not his place, for there was too much pain. but she would watch out for him as she had his whole life, in her own ways — while Ronal will become one of his footholds in life. a place where he will always feel like he can drift back to.

~~~

that's all I have for now. it's a shit ton. I have maladaptive daydreamed part this point, but I'll probably be back on my bullshit eventually. I'll have more on Q and the water tribe and what not.

[charmre]

Salt in my lungs, Holding my breath Making peace with my inevitable death I guess I did alright considering Tried to be a halfway decent friend Wound up a bad comedian An honest fool with more bad habits Than you can count

[sammygender]

i’ve never been as angry on behalf of a character as i am for sam winchester

[vhvrs]

they call him the one true morty for being able to turn a kuudere into a tsundere

[bmoreisapunkrocktown]

"Children should be dragged kicking and screaming to school and the doctor's office and grandma's house and the park" is not and never will be a pro-child opinion.

If your kid doesn't want to go to school so much that they throw a temper tantrum and scream until they go hoarse, and your response is "shut up because you have to go" the problem is still you ignoring your kids needs and you're a shitty parent.