#ive had this sitting in drafts

[electricprincess96]

Oh also other pet peeve I have in BG3 fandom. Girls who projecting every bad thing a guy has ever done to them onto Gale when there's no fucking proof in canon Gale is any of the things they accuse him of. I've seen In*el, Fu*kb*y, S*alker etc. I've literally seen someone call him a Blizzard Dev Bro like that's some serious accusations to be throwing around.

Like all I see is "he's not over his ex like my creepy ex bf thus he must be every bad trait my ex ever had" firstly don't put yourself on the level of fucking Mystra, she may look like a basic ass bitch in game but she's still a Goddess who in lore is described to be otherworldly beautiful not to mention insanely powerful, you are likely neither of these things, and secondly not being over a bad breakup with the literal Goddess of Magic when Gale is a human WIZARD does not mean you get to project every bad thing your ex has ever done to you onto him.

And yes this is not helped by the bug that happened when the game was brand new that seemed to program Gale into thinking you had romanced him even if you didn't and so he gave you the whole "choose between me or them" speech but everyone knows that was a bug. Like they seem to think this proves Gale feels entitled to Tav when it's the fucking opposite Gale doesnt feel worthy of love until you convince him to NOT take the Crown in Act 3, he genuinely thinks he needs to seek the plwers of a god to be worthy of love because of how unequal his last relationship was, Gale puts on an air of arrogance when its about things he knows hes good at but beyond that he thinks hes worthless.

But that bug hasbeen fixed now for months and if Gale is STILL shooting his shot with you thats because 2 companions will always shoot their shot with you provided they dont all hate you so clearly you have pretty high approval with Gale, which admittedly isnt hard to do just dont be an asshole to npcs and Gale, Wyll and Karlach are mostly pretty pleased. On me and my friends playthrough when we romanced Gale we got Wyll shooting his shot, we didn't assume he was any of these things, we didn't assume he was an ass for trying to dance with us when we were actively romancing Gale we knew that's just how the game works. Obviously unless your whole crew literally hate you that is. Fuck Astarion, Lae'Zel, Shadowheart and Wyll all tried to fuck us at the Tiefling party so whys Gale the only one who gets all the negative labels thrown at him? Let's just agree the whole group is ridiculously horny.

Like if people just said "I don't like Gale his personality doesn't mesh with me and I don't care for his playstyle/I already have a magic caster on my set team" great, that's perfectly fair. It's the fact people don't seem to understand you can just not vibe with a character without some moral reason.

[taiturner]

Kathryn Newton as Jessica Hurney, aka "Sammy" in ABIGAIL (2024) dir. Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett

[slavhew]

jakey + dirkjake sandwiched between my organic chem notes. a poem in there somewhere

[glass-noodle]

tfw you fall in love with your computer

(I imagine Connor transfers his program into a body at some point after androids are invented because I need them to have a happy ending lol)

[manchesterau]

Light!

[turntechanomaly]

Your f/o loves your trans body.

Whether or not you've had surgeries, whether or not you're on hrt, whether or not you want either of those things, your f/o loves every inch of you. They think you're beautiful, or handsome, or cute, or sexy, or however you prefer to be described, and they adore you with all their heart

[kuragesoda]

me when the badass is so temple

[royalarchivist]

Mike: I'll hold you son, I'll hold you son.

[They all "Awww"]

Mike: Increase the speed, increase the speed! I'm holding you. Faster faster faster! Faster! I'm holding my son, I'm holding my son! He's not gonna fall, he's not gonna fall– he's right here with me.

[Pac and Mike both laugh, and Fit smiles as he looks at both of them]

Fit: Yeah, doin' good!

Pac: Hold– oh my– Mike, if you don't hold him, he's gonna break, he's gonna break!

Fit: He's gonna get scrambled!

Mike: [Lets Richarlyson go temporarily and encourages him] Just kidding, just kidding, just kidding. Nice, you managed to endure the– [Pac stands behind Mike and hugs him] Oh, you're holding me!

Pac: If you fall–

Mike: Hold Pac Fit, hold Pac Fit!

Pac: Nobody gonna fall!

Fit: Okokokok there you go. [He hugs Pac from behind too, and they all laugh, cheering on Richarlyson]

[cod-thoughts]

“Thought you’d sleep in for once,” Ghost muttered, leaning down to meet Price’s lips in a lazy kiss. It wasn’t rushed—just a slow, easy press of their mouths, like they had all the time in the world.

“Couldn’t,” Price murmured against him, his hands finding Ghost’s hip. He tugged him closer, their noses brushing together as Ghost kissed him again, deeper this time. Price’s grip tightened, but there was nothing hurried about it, just deliberate and steady, as if he was memorising every detail.

Ghost huffed softly when they pulled apart, the sound low and amused. “You’re insatiable, old man.”

“Damn right,” Price shot back, his thumb tracing slow circles against Ghost’s hip. “You’re the one who came in here lookin’ like that. Can’t be helped.”

Ghost shook his head, but there was no real heat behind it, just the faintest curve of his lips, knowing he wasn't wearing anything special. He leaned in again, his fingers slipping under the collar of Price’s shirt, brushing against bare skin. Their mouths met in another kiss, slower this time, like the kindling of a fire, warmth spreading between them with every touch.

Then it happened. Ghost shifted his weight, leaning into Price a little too much as Price tugged him forward. He stumbled, landing hard in Price’s lap, chair creaking underneath them, his thighs bracketing Price’s hips as the two of them froze for a moment, faces inches apart.

“Fuckin' hell,” Ghost muttered, his hands braced on Price’s shoulders as the faintest flush crept up his neck.

Price, for his part, looked completely unbothered—if anything, the grin spreading across his face was downright wolfish. “Now this,” he said, his hands sliding up to Ghost’s waist, “is a sight I could get used to.”

Ghost narrowed his eyes, his voice low and rough. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Can you blame me?” Price replied, his gaze flickering over Ghost—his broad shoulders, the way his muscular thighs framed Price’s hips, the faint pink staining the tops of his cheeks. “Should’ve done this soon as you came in. Hell, I should have you like this all the time.”

“Thought this morning was enough for you,” Ghost shot back, his voice a teasing growl, though the flush on his face deepened.

Price’s eyes darkened, his grin turning into something hungrier. “Not even close.” Wrapping his arms around Ghost’s waist, pulling him down just enough that their bodies pressed together, the solid weight of Ghost against him making Price groan softly. “You’ve no idea how fucking good you look right now.”

Ghost opened his mouth to retort, but Price didn’t give him the chance. He surged up, capturing Ghost’s lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was feral, desperate, all teeth and tongue as if Price couldn’t get enough of him. Ghost let out a low, surprised sound, his hands slipping up Price’s shoulders to his jaw as the kiss deepened.

Price’s hands roamed, one sliding up Ghost’s back to tangle in his hair, the other gripping his thigh, fingers digging into muscle as if to anchor him there. Ghost groaned, the sound muffled against Price’s mouth, his body reacting before his brain could catch up. His hips shifted instinctively, pressing harder against Price, who growled in response.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Price muttered, his voice rough and breathless as he pulled back just enough to drag his teeth along Ghost’s jaw. His lips found the sensitive spot beneath Ghost’s ear, biting down lightly before soothing the mark with his tongue.

Ghost shivered, his fingers slightly tightening around Price’s jaw. “Thought you could handle it, Captain.”

“Handle you?” Price’s laugh was dark, his lips brushing against Ghost’s throat. “Barely.”

The room felt hotter, the air between them thick with want as their movements grew more frantic. Price’s hands were everywhere—tracing the curve of Ghost’s spine, squeezing his thighs, pulling him impossibly closer. Ghost leaned into it, his breath hitching as Price’s teeth scraped against his collarbone.

“John,” Ghost rasped, his voice strained, his usual composure cracking under the heat of Price’s attention.

“Tell me,” Price said, his voice a low growl as he kissed him again, biting at his lower lip before dragging him impossibly closer. “Tell me what you want, love.”

Ghost didn’t answer with words. Instead, he kissed Price with a desperation that said everything, his body pressing against him as if trying to fuse them together. Price groaned into his mouth, his hands sliding to Ghost’s ass, urging him to roll his hips into a sinful grind.

Whatever playful teasing had been between them was long gone, replaced by something raw and consuming. Snaking a hand into Ghost's hair, Price pulled him back with a gasp and looked up at Ghost, his chest heaving, his brown eyes burning with want as he took in the sight of his lover—flushed, ruffled, and completely his.

[socksracoon10]

Pirate

Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader, Jack Sparrow x F!Reader (Platonic) Read The Second Part: Not Just A Pirate

That imbecile had left you with Barbossa, and the thought of having to deal with his monkey's stupid chattering had nearly driven you to madness. Seizing any opportunity available, you had found yourself a small boat and began your search for Sparrow. You weren't expecting much from him, considering you were technically a part of his crew - the rest were with Barbossa. Not that it made any difference, though, because at the moment you were without a captain and unfortunately in the eyes of a few redcoats who eyed you, warily. They drew their rifles closer to themselves, marching over with some fire in their eyes.

"Oh, curse me," You muttered underneath your breath, throwing your hat into the water below, before carefully stepping onto a dock. Your foot dangled helplessly onto the boat, almost causing you to lose your balance. Gesturing for a soldier to come help you, you grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted yourself up onto the wooden platforms and sighed in relief, thanking them with false kindness.

"Enough, enough," One of them grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sneezed, the droplets of his mucus flying past you as you cringed at the sight. Despite being a pirate, you still had at least a little bit of hygiene left in you during your days as a "proper" lady. "What brings a girl like you to Port Royal, especially in that poor excuse of a boat?"

You followed the soldier's fingers to the vessel, noticing the way a few splinters poked out from the oars. It was a ghastly sight and a miracle that it had managed to take you this far without sinking. Shaking your head, you came up with the best excuse you could think of,

"I was robbed by a pirate. I was hoping at least one of you would show some mercy and help me find that treacherous man." 

"Was it Jack Sparrow?" Another soldier chimed in, his voice so delicate as he uttered the name.

"Precisely!" You whispered, excitedly as you wriggled your eyebrows, "Have you seen him lurking about here? I ought to give him a piece of mind!"

"Now, now, listen here, you don't have to do anything," The third soldier cried out with an exasperated sigh, "As misfortunate as your encounter with Sparrow must be, I implore you to go find yourself an inn for the time being." He had this air of haughtiness in his voice, one that made your frown deepen into a snarl. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed any emerging ill comments at him down to your boots and merely nodded your head in response.

Pushing past the soldiers, you trailed up the staircase to the cobbled streets of Port Royal and found a group of more soldiers running down the streets from The Governor's quarters. Frowning, your faintly heard the mention of Jack Sparrow among one of the redcoats that passed by you and you instantly figured out what was going on.

Crossing through an alley, you found a familiar set of beads dangling from an individual's head, hiding behind a wagon; he occasionally lifted his head to peer for any danger, unaware of your presence behind him.

"AHEM," You crossed your arms, glaring at him. Either he was ignoring you on purpose, or he was incredibly deaf and stupid. Rolling your eyes, you slapped the back of his head and watched him hurl into the wagon with a yelp of pain. He turned around on his heels, swiftly, narrowing his eyes for a moment to scan your face. Upon recognition, he grinned and held his hands up in the air,

"(Y/N)! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" He exclaimed, holding onto your hands. You wriggled out of his grasps, before slapping him across his face, sharply.

"You moron! You left me aboard Barbossa's ship! After everything we've been through, I thought you were a brother to me! Family! You've decided to lurk about and be the prying little-"

"Whoa... now, love, we don't have much time to listen to your usual rants, do we?" Jack interjected your thoughts, raising a finger up. He swayed towards you, looking over your shoulder to ensure that there were no redcoats nearby. His eyes then glanced back towards you, "Listen, I think we should split ways and then meet up back at the docks. What do ya say?"

"I say no," You hiss, "I don't trust your words. We go together, or I'll throw you to the soldiers myself!"

"Darlin', you're a pirate too. You're only doing yourself a disservice here," Jack scoffed, and you clutched onto his collar,

"Try me. You cross me one more time, I won't care if you're my captain or like a brother to me, I shall drive my sword through your head and watch you scream for mercy." You threatened him, before shoving him off. Jack dusted his coat, creasing out the new wrinkles you caused with what he assumed was an indifferent expression on his face - he couldn't hide the slight fear your words caused him. 

As you extended your hand out for Jack to accept, the thunderous footsteps of the redcoats just around the corner caused you both to pick your feet up and run. Jack had hopped over among the roofs, and you had run inside a blacksmith's keep. Grabbing a sword from the sleeping blacksmith, you were set to head back out when you had noticed a shadow emerge from the other side of the door. 

"Oh, bollocks," You whisper, in a panicked tone, leaping behind a wooden table somewhere far enough for cover. You heard the footsteps of someone patter across the room, shifting through some equipment before they loudly whispered,

"Not where I left you..." 

Ah, so it was a man. And judging by the sound of his voice, he was pretty young. You peered, carefully, from the table and noticed his ponytail, and his well-fitted yet a bit dirty clothes. He wasn't bad-looking, surprisingly. He tapped his foot, impatiently, before drawing out his own sword and turned to your hiding spot. Sighing in defeat, you stood up from the cramped place and stretched your arms with a lazy yawn, stalking over to him.

"You're a pirate," He spat, his sword dragging up and down the air as he gestured at you.

"I'm also a lady. Now, this can go two ways. Either you let me go and I find myself back to Jack Sparrow, or I kill you... and find myself back to Jack Sparrow." You reasoned, forcing a smile at him as you made your way to the exit. Within seconds, you felt the tip of the blade against your chin, turning your head to face him. He had a deathly glare on his face but his eyes spoke of something else. Seeing that there was no way out of this without blood being shed, you raised an eyebrow,

"Come now, love, must there be hostility? Fine then, have it your way." You spat, before dragging your sword and jabbing it towards his stomach. He deflected my attack, and swung his sword around towards your neck. Dodging backwards, you lunged forward and elbowed his gut before parrying the thrust of his sword. He fell back for a moment, catching his breath as he shook his head,

"That's cheating." He breathed out between pants.

"Well, that's life, and now help a lady out and let her escape." You snickered, prying his fingers off his sword.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken... you're a pirate." The young man smirked, and the front door swung open with Jack at the hands of the redcoats, a sheepish look attached to his stupid face. Glancing back to the now standing young man, you found yourself handcuffed and dragged off with Jack besides you. 

William didn't fail to notice your menacing glare as you were taken away and he let out a proud smirk at the sight. And yet, something felt wrong. In all the years as a blacksmith's apprentice, nothing had excited him as much as this encounter had. He turned to the burning furnace, his thoughts fixated on seeing you.

For one more time, at least.

[impossiblesuitcase]

Cinder is jealous. She's jealous of her step-sisters. They have pretty clothes and soft hands and a doting mother. She has none of which. Her sister Peony is her only human friend and even seeing her in a ballgown sparks "envy" in Cinder, because Peony gets a dress and can go to the ball. Cinder can't.

She doesn't believe she could be pretty. She's too clunky, she's not curvy. She pins it down to being cyborg or just naturally inadequate. Cinder doesn't have nice clothes or fancy things. Kai gives her gloves and they are "the most beautiful thing she had ever owned." And then they are ruined, like all the pretty things in her life. She has to survive, endure, and with that she doesn't have time for prettiness.

But Kai's first impression of her is that she's "cute" and "pretty." He calls her pretty in public, and he calls her pretty in his private thoughts. "Your pretty new mechanic in the lobby", "the pretty young mechanic at the market." He finds her gorgeous with her glamour, and his "knees threatened to buckle" in her beauty. Everyone else thought she was gorgeous, but no one was swooning the way he was. The glamour had amplified the attraction he'd already had towards her.

Thorne, upon seeing a cyborg stumble into his jail cell, has the first instinct to flirt with her. Not recoil, because of her metal and skin, but flirt because she's a girl and that's his favourite pastime. And what distinguished her from the many other pretty girls he normally flirted with? To him, "her irritation made her prettier". Her disgruntled personality, who she is, is her prettiness.

Adri tells Cinder that if she can't cry, she can't feel love. She does love, she loves so much, but she doesn't have time to grieve her sister or her anonymity or her freedom when she has a revolution to start. She has to tough it out.

When she's bound up in Kai's arms she feels safe, delicate, "almost like a princess."

Cinder pretends she doesn't have a crush on Kai because having a crush on a celebrity is "preadolescent," the trademark of immature, lovesick teenage girls. How can she be girly when she's a grimy mechanic? She "doesn't know the first thing about makeup", because do you think Adri would have ever let her buy some to try? Would Cinder have even bothered, believing nothing could improve a cyborg?

She dreams of "going to the ball and dancing with the prince." And when Iko teases her, Cinder says, "we all have our weaknesses". It is a weakness to be in love, because someone like Kai couldn't love her. She imagines being at the ball, "jealous of the girls who swooned to catch Prince Kai's attention." Jealous that they can be open with their attraction, jealous that he would pick them over her.

But he loves her. And when he does, she can't process the feeling "of being desired". She wants to carve 'C + K' into a wall, then berates herself for such "whimsy." Because deep down, she's always wanted to be wanted, and that truth is her weakness. But war doesn't last forever, and soon, she has no reason to hide that. There's no reason it would be a weakness.

Cinder is comfortable in baggy cargo pants and messy hair but she also dreams of wearing a beautiful ballgown. She loves her coronation dress. She calls the empress crown 'stunning.'

She never becomes obsessed with frills or glitter, but she slowly leans into soft, pretty things. She has a necklace from Kai and her engagement ring. It's sparkly and yet, Cinder, the so-called 'tough, aloof tomboy' thinks it makes her metal hand look "elegant". Maybe she starts wearing bracelets and earrings because they don't bother her when she isn't working on something mechanical. She doesn't even notice until Thorne jokes that she wears more metal in jewellery than the whole metal of her hand.

Maybe she buys herself a new set of tools with pink and blue iridescent handles simply because finds them pretty. Maybe when her friends tease her about how in love she is, she starts to acknowledge it.

Cinder is not some stereotype of a leading female character who is strong and as such cannot be feminine or soft or emotional. Was she given the chance to be?

Let her be soft. Let her be delicate. Let her pretty.

[tothebestofmyabilities]

@tinimmyweek day 5!

Prompt: prom

Yaaay this is my favorite piece I did for this week!! I've been so excited to post it (highly suggest you click for better quality)

[helianoemeria]

i never said i'd be alright, just thought i could hold myself together

[manchesterau]

x

[lesbiankendall]

SUCCESSION

2.09 "DC"

2.10 "This Is Not For Tears"

[conjuring-ghouls]

spinny spin (x)