#juice box :3

[keeps-ache]

happy born, hope you had a good time at mass and stuff :>

🧁<- cupcake for you

thanks!! :DD yea it was nice !

ooooh and thanks again !! [nom] here's a thing for you ! 🧃

[internutter]

Not being normal about BG3

Not being normal about that little gasping gulp Astarion does after he gets human(oid) blood for what's possibly the first time. How out of breath and astonished he is at how it feels.

Not being normal about how he was wheedling and pleading beforehand, bargaining for "just a drop".

Not being normal about how shocked and surprised he is

Completely not being normal about how the rants about rats and bugs and Cazador puts that little gulp into a whole new perspective.

Especially not being normal about when you find him bear-drunk and he compares human(oid) blood [YOURS!] to a fine wine in contrast to the "plonk" of animal blood. Or the "sewer water" of rats.

...and not being normal about Larion not allowing our Tav's to get blushy about being "a fine wine" for a nice little conversation derailment...

This tiny gasp is that of someone who's never had anything close to a proper meal in two hundred fucking years.

No wonder he wants to hold on to what we players give him with both hands. No wonder he throws all his ploys at you to try to keep you.

And I'm not even out of Act 1.

[nart-is-a-monster]

Ya know me I'm not normal Abt the fic, so here you go THE BLOODY MARRY SCENE BC I've been thinking of it lately :3333

AAAAAAAAND here's the link of the fic :D

And if you see this and have no idea why Varian is in that situation

Go read the fic so we can be not normal Abt the fic together U__U

And go follow @glitter-lisp @eggmuffinwaffles bc they have written the thing and I love them (and you should too) :333

[foresttt-png]

I'm so sorry for constantly bothering you for lesser restoration but Astarion needs to be fed

[rottewanges]

my take on juice box au! varigo <3

[no bg + no body vers under the cut]

[myymi]

i feel like tails would love to use his age when he's insulting eggman

eggman fails at something tails can do and he responds like "don't worry!! if an eight year old can do it im sure you'll get the hang of it soon! :]"

[fatale-distraction]

Kar’niss x Tav... Tav helps Kar'niss clean himself up after taking him in?

Not sure if this turned out how you were expecting, dearest Anon, but here’s a thing!

~~~

"Hold still, now," Qilue murmured, dabbing carefully at the drider's temple with a damp cloth. Kar'niss had settled himself near the fire pit, legs folded beneath him obediently while his newest mistress scrubbed at his face with a gentility he had become so unaccustomed to, his shattered mind couldn't recall the last time someone had treated him with such tender care. He had thought The Absolute had been good to him, rewarded his devotion with such generosity. It was nothing compared to this new mistress, her touch feather light and full of love. Even as the drider peered with mixed suspicion and curiousity around the camp, a purr began to rumble in his chest, accompanied by the occasional anxious chitter over his new surroundings. Water sloshed in the bucket at Qilue's side as she rinsed the rag and squeezed it out. Kar'niss winced away when she swept it around his primary eyes and moved on to the secondary ones dotting the left side of his face. Her touch remained gentle while she murmured comforting words in a low voice and continued scrubbing the filth from his mottled skin. She moved to the jagged scarring that split his face, blood boiling as she tried not to remember the circumstances behind it, the vicious snake-headed whip that had flayed skin and muscle to the bone.

"How long do you think it's going to take you with that little scrap?"

"Shut up, Astarion."

"Excuse me, I am asking a genuine question," the vampire scoffed. "Wouldn't it be easier to just have Gale soak him?"

Gale glanced up from his book. "I'm sorry," he quipped. "You may be curious about what an angry, soaking wet, mentally unstable drider tearing through our camp would look like, but I am not."

Kar'niss hissed and both men snapped their mouths shut. Qilue barely restrained a smirk as she washed behind his ears. "Behave yourself, my love," she instructed fondly.

The drider shrank. "Forgive us, mistress," he babbled. "We are loyal, and she is kind, we will behave."

The drow woman pet his lank white hair and whispered to him in a soothing tone. "Ssh, Kar'niss. I'm not your mistress," she reminded him. "Don't be afraid, you won't be punished. Just be nice."

His trembling eased as he stared with trepidation at the curious woman. "No punishment?"

"No punishment," she assured him, wiping down his neck. Dirt and grime flaked away from the chitin, and it began to take on a dull shine as she scrubbed. Kar'niss let his eyes drift shut. It felt so good; the abrasive cloth and her gentle touch cleaning away months of misery and leaving behind raw skin and gleaming carapace. The purr returned and tentatively he bowed his forehead to hers.

"Thank you, mistress," he said in an awed whisper. "We do not deserve your kindness, your mercy."

"I'm not your mistress," Qilue reminded him again, smiling as she attempted to continue her scrubbing with his forehead pressed to hers. "And kindness is always deserved. It is not something that needs to be earned."

"Yes, my queen."

"No."

"Savior?”

"Try again."

His eyes flickered open and considered her with confusion. "But then, what shall we call you, my lady?"

"My name," she insisted. "Qilue."

A shudder ran through his body. Moonlight. Yes. It had frightened him at first, that bright orb floating in the sky, surrounded by knife-points of glittering stars, but he had quickly grown to love it. The moon was good to him, it was kind. It lit the way in the dark and scattered the shadows. "My light," he gasped in a hoarse, pained whine.

The rag dropped from Qilue's fingers to land on the ground with a wet slap. Hope shone in her eyes and she clutched his clawed hands to her chest.

"Yes!" she cried, tears stinging her eyes. "Yes, Kar'niss, that's what you used to call me! Do you remember?"

"No!" he wailed, clutching his head with sharp claws and staggering back, his body quaking. "No, there was no one. NO ONE. There was only the Absolute, only the Spider Bitch before her. No one else. No light, no light..."

The companions' hands went to their weapons, but they held their positions at a panicked signal from their leader.

"Ssh, darling, it's alright," she murmured, approaching the shaking drider with a soft step. "Come back to me. You're safe."

"We are NEVER safe," he snarled, lips peeling back to reveal his glinting fangs. "The things in the darkness are always there, watching, waiting, HUNGERING."

A pale, bluish light flickered to life in Qilue's palm. The bard murmured a simple, soothing song for his ears alone. The tune was one she had written for him, long ago, to fit the words of his favorite poem. The effect was startingly instantaneous. His breathing slowed, all of his eyes swivelling toward her with an intent, watery gaze. He lowered his hands from his face, pin-pricks of blood left behind from his claws. The companions relaxed slightly as he quieted, lowering his body back toward the ground, entranced by the song and the light.

"Moonlight," he murmured again, broken voice choked with tears. "That was her name, Moonlight...she was my light--MY light, and she was good and she was kind...and they took her away and they broke her and they HURT her--"

Qilue shushed him again, gently gathering him into her arms. "She's okay, Kar'niss. She's alright now. Try to remember her face," she urged, taking his face in her hands and focusing his frantically wandering attention on her face. "Remember my face, my love."

It took several minutes of coaxing to calm the drider enough to resume his bath, her attempts to trigger his memories of her fruitless. Qilue's companions awkwardly relaxed their grips on their weapons and resumed their rest, each trying to pretend they hadn't heard Kar'niss' words. Astarion stormed away from the camp after a few moments, snatching up the moon lantern and muttering in a dark rage that he needed to feed. If anyone heard an agonized scream in the dark, cut off with a sudden, wet squelch, they pretended not to hear that as well. Qilue continued her work, intentionally oblivious, humming her little song every time Kar'niss began to tremble and fret again.

~

Before long, Minthara emerged from the tent she had kicked Halsin out of, bleary-eyed from a deep trance and crunching on a burnt meat-kabob of uncertain origin. She came to an abrupt halt as she came upon the drider-bath-time, eyes shot wide open, half-eaten kabob partially raised to her mouth. She swallowed and lowered the meat.

"There is a drider in our camp,” she rasped.

"Yes," confirmed Qilue, not looking up from her intent polishing of a chitinous shoulder-plate.

"Why is there a drider in our camp."

"His name is Kar'niss."

"WHY is there a DRIDER in our CAMP," enunciated Minthara raggedly.

"He's Qilue's ex-boyfriend," Astarion snapped, stepping back into camp, dragging a badly mangled body behind him and wiping his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand. He dropped the blood in front of Kar'niss. "For you, darling. If I'm not allowed to snack on our friends in the middle of the night, neither are you."

All seven of Kar'niss' eyes widened hungrily at the sight and smell of the half-drained corpse, breath quickening. Qilue put her hands on her hips. "I JUST finished washing his face, Astarion!" she complained. "He's going to get blood everywhere all over again!"

"Let the drider eat!" several strangled voices chorused. The young drow sighed and dropped her rag in the bucket.

"Very well. Try not to make a mess, my love..."

Licking his lips, Kar'niss pounced on the body, sinking his teeth in and gulping down the cooling blood with a moan of ecstasy, babbling his gracious thanks until Qilue scolded him for eating with his mouth full. Her friends averted their eyes and tried not to feel sick as he tore into his meal, with the exception of Lae'zel and Minthara who looked on with interest, and Astarion, who remained disinterested.

"I am going to need a better explanation than that," Minthara said at last, turning back to her fellow countrywoman. "How in the hells did you end up with a drider for a mate?"

"He's not my ex-boyfriend," sighed Qilue, massaging her temple and flopping down in front of the fire. "Or my mate. He's...I don't know what we were. But he wasn't a drider then."

Minthara's eyebrows lifted, a nearly sympathetic expression that fit strangely on her face. "I...see. My condolences. That is not a fate I would wish on my second-worst enemy, but any who would willingly take on a trial of Lolth--"

"It was not willingly," bit out Qilue, holding back tears. The warden's eyebrows climbed higher. "It was a punishment. The Matron Bitch offered him choice between life or death, and he chose ME."

"You surname," the Nightwarden suddenly demanded. "You hail from Menzoberanzan, do you not? What house are you from?"

"Valtaya," Qilue spat.

"House Valtaya..." Minthara mused. "Yes, I recall. Your mother was an idiot."

"I know."

The pair were silent for a moment as Qilue continued to stare into the flames.

"Would it comfort you to know that your eldest sister now leads your house?"

"Oh?" hummed Qilue lightly, eyes unfocused. Kar'niss had slowed his feasting and listened intently, his attention fixed on the drow women as blood dripped down his chin.

Minthara nodded. "The rumor was that she grew tired of your Matron's wasteful, fruitless ambitions and stabbed her ninety-five times in her sleep. The deed was praised quite highly by those who dared mention it.”

Qilue laughed under her breath. "It was ninety-seven. And my sister didn't do it. I did."

"I see." The warden didn't seem surprised. "Why ninety-seven?"

"One for every year of my life," she replied too easily. "And the poison coating the blade was for Kar'niss."

"The stories didn't mention the poison. What kind?"

"Drider vemon, ironically. I didn't even know of his fate then. They told me he was dead."

Minthara hummed. "It would have been better if he was."

"I know."

"And what of the Patron?" asked Qilue after a moment, dragging the water bucket closer, giving it a casual inspection. The water needed changing, murky and black with dirt, dried blood, and gods knew what else. "Did the rumors mention his fate?"

"He is no longer the Patron, but from my understanding still leads your family's guard."

Qilue scowled. "He was supposed to kill himself. I even gave him a clean knife, which was more than he deserved. Fucker."

A snort burst from the other drow. "If you trusted a male to do the proper thing unsupervised, you're a fool."

"Apparently." Qilue tipped the bucket, spilling water downhill. Gale, listening and watching the exchange with interest, refilled it with a wave of his hand.

"How's that for supervision?" he muttered, mocking the warden's distainful tone.

"Your males are useful," Minthara, having overheard his disrespectful grumbling, pitched her voice to carry. "But poorly trained."

Qilue stifled a laugh as Gale bristled and opened his mouth to retort just as Kar'niss licked the blood from his chin with a tongue much longer than it should have been, half of his eyes squinting in concentration. Gale gagged instead, Astarion chortling as he examined his nails and leaned back against a pillow in front of his tent, one leg propped up on the other.

"I can't speak for Gale, but I'll have you know," the vampire drawled. "That I am in fact MOSTLY house-trained, thank you very much."

"Shut up, Astarion," the drow women and Gale ordered in unison.

[juicy-juiceboxes]

My BBG 😌😌☺️☺️

(He’s so underrated it’s sad 😔😔)

[seraphimaa]

HAARLEP N*S*F*T ALPHABET

Below cut, of course.

Warnings: somnophilia, unhealthy relationships, danger, brief mentions of noncon

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This was one of the best parts, for Haarlep. This was the only moment that they could relax and bask in the euphoria of feeding on your body, the maddening hunger gone from their mind. This was also the time that you were, like him, at your most vulnerable. He’d always tend to your needs because he knew that by being a reliable comfort to you at these times, he strengthened the trust you gave to him and it deepened his grip on you. He’d carry you to the bath and clean you up, dress you in a pretty slip and carry you back to bed, whispering sweet nothings to you the whole time. He’d be so gentle and loving because he knew that this was the way to earn your devotion to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When he is in the form of Raphael I think he actually does kinda like the horns. They make him look powerful. When he wears your form he loves your feet. It’s not weird…well I mean it’s Haarlep so it’s always kind of weird, but he just loves how small they are. It’s different, to him. They are just to delicate and he loves how they curl when he makes you feel good. When it comes to you, I think he loves your mouth. Again, it’s always going to be a little weird but he likes it in an innocent sense too. Your tongue is smooth and unforked - also something fun and new he likes to study and explore. This little mouth was capable of bringing him to the peak of pleasure, but also of making mean but oh so funny jokes, and praising him, and engaging him in amusing and conversation. This little part of you sparked so much chaos! He likes your mouth because it always seems so enjoyable, whatever you decide to use it for.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

(I want to start by stating one of the saddest lore facts. No Haarlep cum for us womb havers:( the little demon spawn he’d plant in you would most definitely kill you, according to lore, but I will be the first to admit that I’d 100% die happily to demon cum because my breeding kink would always override my self preservation lol).

As above, I want to believe that Haarlep would love to bury himself as deep as he could fit inside of you, pressing against your womb and pumping you full of his seed, desperate to breed you and corrupt your womb with his spawn but assuming you don’t want to die terribly, idk maybe the funky little guy has a potion or spell or something to spare you that future. He’d change to your form and offer to finger and lick it all out after but that would be a risk you’d be willing to make.

If he wasn’t looking to turn you into a doomed vessel for his child, and didn’t have a solution then I think the next best thing would be cumming all over your ass or tits. He liked changing to your form and licking off of you while you squirmed and watched

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

A depraved part of him howls that he has to take your soul and turn you into his pretty doll. He denies it because he knows it’s better to have a long term investment but he can’t deny that the idea of having you living corpse, completely at his mercy and he could do whatever he wanted, go as hard as he wanted to, and you’d never break, drove him wild. You’d make such a submissive, pretty doll for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like this is kinda obvious for Haarlep at first but remember how long he spent rotting in the boudoir. Extremely experienced but, perhaps, feeling slightly out of practice for a while. If you’d be so kind as to give yourself to him, you’d both thoroughly enjoy the journey of self rediscovery where he reminds himself of what he enjoys and exactly how good he is at it all.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Gods, he loves them all. Each delicious in their own way, and he makes it his mission to fuck you in every position and location he could ever dream of.

His favourite though, is when you ride him, shuddering and locked in his gaze. So long he spent topping Raphael and dedicated to his pleasure that this position holds so much significance to him. He is now the master who can recline back and be worshiped by their doting pet. Although you sit atop him like a queen, you both understand that he is the one in control, so in control of you that here you were, continuing to pleasure him on your own will. Here, he could also study your face and all the interesting ways it moved at each slide of him inside of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Again, he’ll tailor his behaviour to fit your needs and personality. There’s an intensity there and he views the act of fucking you as the same as laying claim to your wretched little soul but that doesn’t mean he can’t have fun and make you laugh at the same time. Your slow destruction didn’t have to hurt. You would enjoy every second of it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he has stubble but it’s a cosmetic choice rather than a lack of grooming. Haarlep is dedicated to nothing other than looking their best and preening.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, this is when your are most vulnerable and Haarlep would not hesitate to flood you with intimacy and affection, if that’s what you desire. Haarlep will play whatever role you want because all that matters is that you feed his sexual hunger and that it feels good. If this makes you feel happy then he will give it you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Haarlep is almost always getting himself off somehow. When he first took l your form, it was so constant and overwhelming that you had locked yourself in your bathroom for days straight, able to do nothing more than join him desperately in hopes of release and ride the barrage of pleasure. If you were keeping yourself from him for too long, in his humble opinion, he found that if he brought you both to the edge and held you there long enough, you’d always come back to him desperate and feral. He loved you like that.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Somnophilia. Like the ancient incubus history with sleep paralysis and dream control, I think Haarlep would love to probe your mind while you slept, seeping it with his own depraved thoughts and playing with you while you are innocent and unaware.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Everywhere and anywhere. His beautiful and depraved imagination is unmatched in all the realms his words not mine. Don’t worry, though, he will get to them all with you, eventually. His favourite is anywhere where there’s an audience. He loves to show off his treasure, they deserve to be witnessed and admired by all. He also loved the effect it had on you. You got so shy and bashful. It was so cute!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Almost anything if he thinks about it enough, let’s be honest. I guess worth mentioning is reluctance, innocence and brattiness. He loved the challenge and he would no doubt be able to tame these things in you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Brutal non-con. Don’t get me wrong, in the right situations, as an incubus he’s depraved enough to see the appeal of anything but as a standard of incubus and succubus culture, this was taboo. If you could not manipulate your prey into submission or at least break their mind with your charm then you didn’t deserve the feast. Incubi were not built for combat.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

They are all wonderful but I mean, can I just point out the obvious that he would LOVE to use your form and sixty nine you. It was so overwhelming that you’d passed out from the reverberating echos of pleasure the first time so they didn’t do it often but every time they did was like a little present. Breaking you was so fun!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, he will give you whatever you want. Your pleasure is his pleasure.

Totally up to him? He pin you down, and fuck you into the mattress until you were babbling and drooling.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex is a gift in any form but they much prefer to take their time with you. Such a delicious little treat should be savoured. The longer your ruin was, the harder the high after would be. He’ll always satisfy you in the end.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hahahahahahahahaha.

Put it this way, he will fuck you anywhere, fuck anything as you and make you fuck anything that either of you want.

He is every monster fuckers dream come true. Want to try centaur cock? He’ll do it for you and you’ll feel everything. Hell and abyss beasts alike, whatever either of your depraved minds dream up and even better, I’m sure his venom would make it possible to let you have a go too!

In all honesty, if you’re ever likely to die by Haarlep’s doing, it would probably be suspended from a cock he had assured you that you could take. Oops!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

For Haarlep, sex is less of an act and more of a constant state of existence. Rare would it be that one of you isn’t teasing or playing with the other. After you finish, the rest your time is spent, in his perception as simply building up to the next climax when he’d pounce and take you again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Anything that can be stuffed inside of you, or him, humped or stimulate you in any way will no doubt be used against you at some point. He loves being inventive and finding new and exiting things to torture you with!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will literally bring you to the brink of insanity with his cruel unfairness. He is more than to happy to hold you there for hours, or days, or weeks, his venom able to fuel your cruel torture will unbearable pleasure. Don’t worry, in the end he always makes it worth it and all the tears and screaming will be rewarded with the highest of peaks. You’ll get what you deserve as soon as you earn it his word not mine.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He will grunt and growl and hiss like an angry crocodile when you make him feel particularly good. He is, however, far more interested in basking in the noises he brings out of you. He loves to hear you pledging you love and devotion to him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a feral little biter. When he feels good or even just has a little flood of emotion, his go to response is to nip and bite at you. He loves it when you return the favour. It’s normal to be relaxing than chomp. He loves seeing his teeth bruised and dented into your soft skin.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I feel like his cock is definitely generous in size. It’s thick, and long and intimidating. It’s the same colour as the rest of him, flushing to a dark purple hue near the tip. I like to think his cock would have sharp, delicate ribbing and texturing around the length that would sting and drag pleasurably inside of you. Probably has an evolutionary purpose of removing another’s seed or something idk. I like to think his demon dick would have a small knot at the base, since they were designed to feed and breed, after all. Like for these headcanons I can’t argue them through lore. I just think it. Because it’s hot. Shoot me.

I like to imagine he’s always on the spectrum of “half mast” to “full mast” always half at alert and ready for more fun.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sorry, but again can I, hahahaahahaha.

He’s the embodiment of lust and sexual hunger. Go figure. Even in innocent moments that depraved beast is always in him and seeking its next meal.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think Haarlep spent so much time sleeping before, passing time in the house of Hope, that after you ignited his passion again he rarely slept anymore. He’d like to watch you sleep, though. He liked to play with himself and get you off while you did or just probe himself into your slumbering subconscious, watching what your wandering mind conjured.

[ryllen]

[nikkijamess]

Doing a bg3 run with my friend is so fun because we’re just two girlies taking our tamagochi boyfriends for walks

[salvatoraes]

if i get this job.... best believe i'm gonna commission someone to make me icons bc i hate this <3

[drinking-plum-juice]

can you draw you least fav cannon ship (in anything) meeting you favorite fannon ship (in anything)

Okay I can explain

So in Homestuck I honestly believe that Dave should’ve ended up with Karkat and not Jade. I think she stepped in and ruined a perfectly good thing. But Tomtord is just something kinda for me to lean on. It’s stupid and I used to dislike it. That is until I grew a love for enemies to lovers.

[nart-is-a-monster]

Ok this is finally done

So go and read the fic bc the juice box chronicles on ao3 bc is my dear beloved

And also go and follow @glitter-lisp and @eggmuffinwaffles

AND HAPPY JUICE ANYVERSARY 🗣️🛐🗣️🗣️🗣️🦾🗣️

[thepalerimitation]

The Bite: The Alternate Season 3

I first wrote the Bite in early August of 2023, a series of short stories, usually monologues from a certain character’s perspective. In late January, I started putting together a plot.

It would be about the journey for a Michelin star, told from Carmy’s point of view. As I mapped it out, it took themes from the earlier seasons. His ideas for new dishes. His relationship with authority. His anxiety and his rage.

But the more I wrote about him, the more I wanted to write about Syd. About her past, her fears. Her ambition, her frustration, her attraction to someone who’s the embodiment of chaos.

A dual POV evolved, fresh tension over new hires, over their pasts, and their dysfunctional kitchen. And with reviews, menu changes, the Michelin star sucked them into a spiral of mutually assured destruction.

There’s definitely some overlap with S3 (on accident, I wrote this before the trailers came out), especially with the themes around the French Laundry Chef, the mounting tension in the restaurant, and how Sydney wants to bash Carmy’s head into the wall.

Propaganda:

1. I quote Frankenstein about line cooks

2. The food is great, the restaurant is in tatters, and the word count is 29,000 words.

3. People are slapped, stabbed, and beaten to a pulp. *cough cough* (whooooo could it beeeee????)

[jjtheresidentbaby]

day 9, an obscure character that you hc as a caregiver

- aiden clark from school bus graveyard -

he’s actually insane but he’s a really good cg and super protective (maybe too much)

- fictionalagerechallange - moodboard masterlist -