#just replied OOPS )

[chloesimaginationthings]

When I’m in the “childhood trauma” competition and my opponent is Michael Afton 💀💀

[ph7soy]

mega angsty grahamscott college AU fic❗❗

College was supposed to be a fresh start for Warren. A chance to rebrand his geeky high school self. Hell, maybe he’d even have a shot at being cool this time around. But of course nothing ever goes his way, because he’s Warren fucking Graham.

~ wc: 71k-ish ~ status: ongoing (chapter 11/?) ~ tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff/angst, coming-of-age

helloooooo to all five grahamscott shippers out there!! my super supportive gf (who is also my only beta reader) suggested that i promote my fic on tumblr so here i am;;

enjoy the vandalized driver’s licenses i made for warren & nathan + a lil what’s in my bag college student edition for these two dorks (clearly not hard to guess which belongs to who lol)

[speyerboot]

Hard copy is worth the wait. This book is gorgeous 😍

🤭

[johnslittlespoon]

TWENTY ONE THOUSAND WORDS……..I am spinning off the planes of this earth I am so EXCITED (snippet pls?? 🥺🥺🥺)

the gif plsss 😭 crying shdgkj SRY i've been so bad at posting updates lately, i'm gonna try to get back to bunch of TAS asks after work tonight/later this week <33 but here's a crumb for now :-)

[unnecessary-dinosaurs]

Having a girlfriend does not automatically make Ben straight. Bisexual and pansexual people do exist!

This is true and I’m sorry I implied otherwise! Ben could definitely still be queer while having a girlfriend. HOWEVER I literally just can’t comprehend him liking women. It isn’t that I’ve headcannoned him as gay for so long that it’s weird to me, but that I literally just can’t imagine him being anything else. It’s more like “why haven’t the writers figured out that Ben is gay yet?” But thank you for correcting me! Bi and pan people exist and are cool as fuck and deserve to see themselves onscreen. If you see Ben this way, more power to you! But he’s just always been a gay man to me.

Aaalso. I don’t really have enough faith in the writers to make him bi/pan/otherwise queer while having a girlfriend. After the homophobia from many Jurassic fans after CC s5, I really don’t think they’ll add any more queer elements. Ofc I’d rather him be bi/pan if he’s going to have a girlfriend, but I honestly don’t see it happening.

[bluecubeblues]

have you ever been convicted of a felony?

★ PREV | FIRST | NEXT ★

[ask-utayaboy]

Th— the… the goat. The goat… talked to you?..!

Kabru—what did it do…? What it tempt you with? What… what is your desire…?

Did you—no..no you… can’t .. but—

- @ask-mithrun

Mithrun — Mithrun, breathe. It's okay. You know me, I'm okay. Remember, you said it yourself; there's nothing to worry about. It's said maybe two things to me maximum, I didn't and I wouldn't. You know that.

Kabru takes a breath himself.

I — okay. Well.

I'm not going to keep this from you, you at the least deserve to know - It's .... trying to tempt me with my birth mother, with speaking to her again. I know any version of her that it likely presents me with isn't ... her ... I can't — I can't figure out a logical way that it would ... work like that. At - at all. And - and I do want to speak to her. I knew I did, but it's an impossible thing so I hadn't really thought about it much.

[a11eya]

these snippets are like those snacks u eat when ur super hungry but instead of fixing ur hunger they just make u hungrier 😞😞😞

not me being the irresponsible parent and giving y’all, like, chips instead of feeding you proper meals 😔😔😔

[svtskneecaps]

oh yet another good purgatory moment i rediscovered earlier today, and i'm willing to bet i said something about this when it first happened, but day 3 i believe when tubbo came to bolas spawn and was chatting with foolish and asked to borrow their enchanting table and foolish was dodging the FUCK out of the question and refusing to clarify if they even had an enchanting table, meanwhile tubbo's noticing the evasions and calling them out

like foolish goes "idek how to make an enchanting table" and tubbo goes "so you do have one, but you didn't make it" and foolish goes "well i didn't SAY that" and they go back and forth and then foolish goes "listen i don't see an enchanting table in [the hole in the wall that is the bolas base]" and philza like stifles a giggle bc he has the enchanting table in his inventory rn and foolish def knows it

like the fucking mental chess that they're both playing like a fucking unstoppable force vs immovable object type beat. trickster meets trickster. every time i see that conversation i want to take notes holy shit. a dishonest person who never tells lies meets a guy who knows his tactics and unlike badboyhalo doesn't join the dance but smashes through the wall like a goddamn sledgehammer. i LOVE THAT SHIT it was like that time tubbo went circles around cucurucho the first time they met or whatever. amazing. 10/10

i'm also thinking about this now bc i noticed jaiden doing it too, on day 4 during all the spawnkilling (yes i watched that vod again lmfao it's too good not to). like when pierre is taking her over to the green base and she stops herself when saying "it's time for my revenge on green team" and corrects it to "my revenge on elquackity", and when bbh came back to red spawn to escort her safely to her body after she quickwarped via punching a whale, she didn't say outright that she was going to take him to her base when she started walking, just implied it and then took off.

like goddamn. i love that shit. i eat that shit up. i love when characters are tricky and manipulative. bbh and foolish talking in extended metaphors is an absolute feast for me.

[apoptoses]

Venice in winter is nothing compared to his homeland, but it’s still damp, oppressive. Outside the sky is a pale shade of grey and the wind must be blowing something fierce, as the little roundels of glass rattle in their iron panes.

But Bianca’s chambers are a hot house. Heat crackles in the fireplace, from the candelabras that dot the walls and tables. Steam curls from the surface of her bath and Amadeo watches the way the wisps of blond hair that surround her face curl with it. She tips her head back against the rim of the tub to look at him. Her cheeks are flushed as rose petals when she smiles, gone pink from the steam.

“You’ve made a terrible mess of my bed,” she says.

And so he has. Having no spare clothing here he’s had no choice but to yank the velvet covers free and wrap himself in them. He’s lying the wrong way, his feet peeking out near the head of the bed. He pushes them into a pillow and grins behind the auburn curtain of his hair.

“And what of it?” he asks.

“Does your master let you get away with such things?”

“No. He beats me terribly. I’m a victim of his punishments almost nightly.”

Bianca rolls her pretty blue eyes. “And you enjoy it, don’t you?”

He does. But she needn’t know that.

This room with all of its delicate things- perfume bottles, silk ribbons draped across her vanity table, Bianca’s little shoes and her combs for her hair and her vases of flowers- it’s not the place for that sort of talk. It’s like being inside a jewelry box. Like being beneath the sea, with the way the steam has collected on the windows and left them shimmering and wet.

Bianca toys with the golden end of her braid, searching it for split hairs. The pearl strands woven into it click softly as she twists and turns her hair.

Amadeo lives in a beautiful palazzo of unruly boys. He sleeps in his master’s strong, imposing bed. He’s been to brothels of all sorts, enjoyed their lurid sort of appeal but this place, this woman’s chamber- it holds such fascination. He watches her in awe as she lifts her feet from beneath the water, rests them on the opposite end of the tub, and he feels as though he’s under a spell.

“You look like a mermaid,” he mumbles.

Water runs down her legs. They’re pale, slender, and Amadeo wonders if he grasped her by the ankle if his fingers would touch where they encircle it. Pressed together as they are, water and soap bubbles clinging to her skin, they look like the appendage of a sea creature. If he blurs his vision the fine golden hair on her legs becomes scales.

“Oh?” Bianca flicks a bit of water at him. It lands on the tip of his nose. “And were I a mermaid what would you be? Some fisherman come to capture me? A prince lost at sea, desperate for saving like Odysseus? Come, wash my back and tell me.”

Amadeo rises from the bed. He leaves the safety of the blankets behind and drags her carved wooden stool over to the side of the tub.

Funny how they’re both naked and yet he feels all the more vulnerable for it. Bianca is otherworldly with her hair swept aside, her head tilted to expose the line of her throat, her shoulder. He takes the wet cloth, rubs the perfumed water into her skin, and wonders what a crude being he must be in comparison.

“Perhaps I would capture you and travel about with you, keeping you on display. I could charge a gold coin just to look upon your beauty,” he says. “You’d make me a rich man.”

He drags the cloth over the delicate ball of her shoulder. It’s white as a porcelain doll, soft in a way none of the other boy’s flesh is. Amadeo massages at her skin and takes in the musicality of her little groan.

“Mm, and would you keep me in a cage? Would you be a very strict master, one who never lets his little captive out?” she teases.

Amadeo nods. “A golden one, so that I might hand feed you through the bars. I could charge another coin for that, I think. Plenty of men would pay for the pleasure of passing you a little bite of fish.”

He washes her scapula when she leans forward, the ball joint at the base of her neck. Her breasts bob in the water, slick with soap, flushed pink with the heat,  and Amadeo can’t resist running the cloth over her clavicle. Down and down until his finger slides into the valley between them where her sternum rests. Her laugh vibrates beneath the bone as she slaps at his wrist.

It’s a half-hearted protest. Splashing just for the sake of getting him wet, and as Amadeo dodges her hand he pretends to accidentally grope her. The entirety of her breast nestles perfectly into his hand.

“You’re such a predictable boy. Would you have them pay to do this as well?” Bianca asks. Her voice rises into a gasp when he catches her nipple between his finger and thumb. “How many gold coins to molest your captive mermaid?”

She’s soft. Not like his master, who’s like caressing one of the marble statues that lines their courtyard. Bianca has warm breasts to squeeze, a roll of flesh that appears above her stomach when she sits hunched and naked like this. Amadeo rubs his palm over the swell of her stomach, his fingertips brushing the gold curls that cover her mound, and curls his other arm around her shoulders to clasp her wet back to his chest.

“None,” he says. “I wouldn’t charge them any, because this I would keep all for my own.”

The wind rattles the shutters of the palazzo. Rain lashes at the windows. It’s freezing outside but in here Amadeo is sweating. It trickles down his back as he grazes her thighs with his fingers. He’s damp under the arms, too warm from the fireplace, from his desire. Just like with his master, he feels monstrous from it. Lesser for the needy thing between his legs. An animal driven by lust.

Bianca struggles in his grasp. Not to get free, to rise up toward his wandering hand. But the position is awkward. Her ankles, perched as they are on the edge of the tub, they don’t give her enough leverage to lift her hips and so she’s trapped there; wiggling like a fish. Amadeo teases at the crease where her thighs meet. He traces it from knee to pubis and back again and listens to the quickening of her breath.

The cleft of her must be slick. She’s probably flushed pink down there as well but he can’t see it through the water, the way her thighs are clenched together.  But that’s alright. He’s submitted to his master, to the workers of the brothels. Amadeo’s not had anyone squirm for him and he’s finding he likes this game. Her shiver when he rakes his nails through her curls sets his blood alight.

He works his finger into the tight crevice where her thighs meet. He seeks out the sensitive nub between her legs and he knows he’s found it by the way Bianca tips her head back and inhales a sharp breath.

Amadeo tries to picture her as a sea creature. What folds she might have here, in this secret part of her. Whether she’d be warm inside or cold, slimy like the belly of a fish. He forces his finger further down through the squeeze of her thighs and teases at her entrance.

It’s torment, being outside of this bath, unable to plunge into her. In the excitement of the previous night he’d finished all too quickly, and it’s embarrassing, really. He’s dying inside to repeat his performance, to do better this time. But he owes her. Pleasure is the only way he can pay her.

Bianca’s hands grip his forearm like a vice. They’re slender, like a doll’s, and he likes to feel small but she’s the first to make him feel powerful. He rubs tiny circles at her and her nails dig into his skin. Glides his finger up and down and watches through the distortion of the water the needy thrust of her hips.

“Amadeo-“ she gasps.

Her knees fall apart. He clucks his tongue at her, stills his hand.

“You’re a mermaid, remember? Your legs should stay together, yes, like that.”

She lets out a whine, clenches her legs back into place. Amadeo touches her again, slow, teasing, and bites back a hiss when she claws at his wrist.

This is new, having someone fall apart in his arms. Taking her apart little by little with his fingertip alone is a rush that goes straight to his head. Like being drunk only better, because instead of a headache there’s a reward at the end. Falling upon her in her great golden bed. Or perhaps just the satisfaction of seeing her shake with pleasure. That alone might be enough.

The pearls in Bianca’s braid click when she tosses her head. Amadeo strokes her, up and down, again and again. Runs his finger along her folds and watches her toes curl at the edge of the bath. He presses at her entrance. Makes as if he’ll let his fingertip in and her toes point with anticipation. Then go lax again when he takes his fingertip away and seeks out the sensitive nub of her again.

“You’re a horrible tease,” she complains.

Amadeo laughs. “I’m your captor, aren’t I? It’s my right to tease. I trapped you for my own pleasure, after all.”

He traces a little circle over her clit. Bianca presses his cheek into the crook of his elbow, as though she means to hide her face.

“Most men would take their pleasure in other ways.”

There’s no hiding herself, though. Amadeo tilts his head, ignores the pain that comes with straining into such an awkward position, and takes in the way she’s panting. The rush of color to her cheeks, how she bites her lip when he touches just the right way. He keeps on that spot, repeats the motion, and he can tell by the way she squeezes her thighs that she’s squeezing tight on the inside too.

“I’m unlike most men,” he says, and kisses at her throat.

Her skin tastes like the perfumed water. Like salt because she too has begun to sweat. He rubs over and over, feels the rush of her pulse, and wonders if this is what his master feels with him. Whether making him squirm, helpless in his arms, makes him feel indomitable as well, and for a second he wishes he could rend her throat with his teeth. Amadeo wants to feel the stitch of her heart the way his master feels his whenever he bites into his flesh and takes his blood.

Slow circles. Over and over he spirals his fingertip. No change in the motion, no teasing now. There’s only one end to this and he means to achieve it as he drops kisses along her neck. Amadeo picks up his speed bit by bit until she gasps. There, there- the words are muttered out over the slosh of the bath, and he listens. Takes her advice even though his forearm is screaming at him, and-

Bianca kicks at the edge of the tub. Her cry sounds surprised, like she didn’t expect to be wracked with this much sensation, and she shakes with it. Her thighs squeeze so tight around Amadeo’s finger he couldn’t slip it inside her even if he wanted to.

And that’s fine. Good, in fact. This pleasure is for her sake and even if his cock is throbbing its need between his legs it can wait. Must wait, he decides. His master would scold him for taking her like a street ruffian not once but twice.

She’s lovely when she goes slack. Bianca’s hair is mussed from rubbing her face against his arm, a gold curl come free near her temple. Amadeo goes to tuck it back for her but she shakes her head.

“My hair will have to be redone entirely.” She plunges her wet fingers into his auburn hair and drags him down for a kiss. Her body is uncomfortably hot, sticky against his. “You’re right, you know.”

“About what?”

She nips at his lip, hard enough to leave it smarting. While Amadeo is busy rubbing at his mouth she rises from the tub like Venus from her shell. Arm covering her breasts, she reaches with the other hand and gestures for him to hand her a dry sheet.

“You’re like your master,” she says.

Amadeo cocks his head. He hands her the sheet without getting up from the stool, suddenly embarrassed of the thing throbbing between his own legs. He aches to throw her to the floor and take her.

“How so?” he asks.

Bianca enshrouds herself in white fabric. One neat movement, so well practiced that she hardly drips water onto the floor, and she’s perched on the edge of the bath rubbing herself dry. Arms first, then legs. She brings her ankle up to rest upon her knee and Amadeo can’t help but stare at the bone white jut of it. She’s pale as his master there. Her ankles never see the sunlight and so he can see the blue veins through her skin, and he wonders how they’d taste.

“Both of you are entirely unlike other men,” Bianca murmurs. Her foot with its pale sole, white as the belly of a fish, lands suddenly in Amadeo’s lap. She grinds her heel down and draws a gasp from him. “Now come to bed, Amadeo. I believe it’s time your captive takes her revenge. You’ll allow me some fun, won’t you? Before I release you back into the waters to swim home to your master?”

The pearls in her braid are loose. He ruts up against her foot and hears them rattle when she tosses her head back and smirks.

Amadeo is hooked. How easily he swings between such extremes. Misery and ecstasy. Dominance and submission. Shame and desire. He’s a being made of contradictions, and as he follows her to her golden bed he thinks he’ll do anything she wants so long as it keeps him here a moment longer. Safe from reality in her jewelry box room.

Safe from his sadness so long as he remains trapped in the net of want.

[tired-old-men]

(Morgan once again was chatting with some of the Guardians, no shenanigans planned, just the tall Guardian girlie looking for some chatter... but another echidna appeared. A short white furred female) "Helloooooooo~ Theres my beloved~" Morgan sighed and rolled her eyes, "Hello, Arcana. Just having a chat..." "In an alternate dimension? Without me? I'm hurt..." The woman's eyes wondered to the few echidna's she saw standing around... a smirk then appeared on her face, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. Morgan glared, "Arcana. Don't. Leave them alone". "TO BEAST!!", she suddenly raised her voice and casted a spell, it randomly hitting at least one of the random Guardians stood around. "ARCANA!!" "Oh relax it'll wear off... in a few days", she giggled.

Spectre was idly hanging about in the background, the presence of these new faces were becoming more of a norm these past few weeks with their continuous surprise visits. Initially he didn’t think anything about Morgan’s partner coming to visit, until he felt something off about her, like she was planning to do something nefarious.

His suspicions would shortly be proven right by her actions. By the time her voice was raised he had already moved swiftly from his spot, phasing in thin air appearing in front of her suddenly, taking the brunt of whatever spell she’d casted. 

He reeled back, oddly enough he didn’t feel any pain or anything abnormal, but regardless of what it was it was instinct to keep his family safe. After the initial shock, Morgan and Arcana received a proper old man scolding. Spectre addressed them sternly about Arcana’s sudden actions, advising her to not repeat that behavior, and finally stating he wouldn’t take threats to his family lightheartedly. 

He left it at that before excusing himself to his quarters, behind him he could hear his son giving the pair a piece of his mind. With a pointed tone, his message of their recklessness lacked a lot of the grace his father’s had, but it was certainly heard.

Spectre had retreated back into his room, preforming some cautionary tests to audit his health after whatever magic had invaded his body. Besides an elevated heart rate there was nothing abnormal for him to worry about, so he decided to wind down for the night, finally making himself comfortable in the privacy of his own quarters. 

... ... ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎。⋆。 ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ... ...

What started as a mild annoying headache had now escalated to a full on migraine, medication didn’t help, relaxing didn’t help, not even the comfort of the dark helped. The elder had begun to pace around the room, flipping through books he’d made levitate all around him with chaos abilities, looking for answers and finding nothing that could compare to what he was feeling.

At this point he was on edge, his skull crushing headache was making it hard to think or even focus, and now his body began to ache badly. Something was happening to him, but he was too blindsided by pain to notice, until it was too late. 

What proceeded felt like a blur of sensations for Spectre, he could feel sharp claws as he grabbed at himself, easily ripping whatever fabric was on him. His growling had become more visceral in nature, sounding less like a man and more like a beast. At some point he’d end up stumbling on all fours on the floor, yet the room around him looked a lot smaller than it usually did. He had the strong urge to scream into the air, but all he could hear were howls.

... ... ◯ ☽ ◑ ● ◐ ❨ ◯ ... ...

Sojourner had made his way to his father’s quarters. While he’d given his father some space to take care of himself and unwind after the day’s event, 3 hours of silence from the elder was concerning. Sojourner knew his father well enough that he knew he’d at least acknowledge one of the messages he’d sent asking if he was alright. He feared that his father was going through one of his ‘bad days’, perhaps the incident had triggered something in him, regardless he needed to know that his father was alright especially after that strange howling he thought he heard earlier. 

His fears would be nearly confirmed when he walked into Spectre’s room and saw that is was thrashed. His books were tossed all around the floor, furniture was knocked over, what remained of his clothes were tattered shreds, and the room was covered in large deep scratches. While he’s seen his father through the worst of his mental health struggles, this was rather extreme, now fearing that the Legion could be behind this. The more he thought about what scenarios could have caused this, the more he began internally panicking, Sojourner would take a breath and tried to remain calm as his father had taught him to do in crisis situations. 

“Pops?” He began calling out, hoping he would still be here and just hiding at best. 

“Sir?! Are you here? Where are you?…It’s just me… just wanted to check up on you… after today and all… Pops?!!” He continued to call out as he looked around the room for any sign of him, only finding more disarray in the process.

“Da-!“ Sojourner stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed a pair of glowing red eyes staring straight at him from a dark corner of the room.

While red eyes were typically a sign of his father’s presence, there was something very different about these eyes, just by noting their positioning in the room, whatever this was would tower over his father’s height. A deep growl could be heard coming from its direction. Before Sojourner could even act the creature had lunged at him, pinning him to the ground with a hardy thud, knocking the wind out of him. Sojourner attempted to push the creature off of him or even manage to slip away but it was of no use, the creature was huge and heavy, its large claws had a good grip on his chest. 

Surprisingly enough while the snarling creature got in Sojourner’s face he wasn’t mauling him. While a good sign a very odd one at that, instead the creature was sniffing? Him? 

“Urg… get.. off.. me!” Sojourner managed to shout between hard breaths, his hands beginning to glow green with chaos energy in retaliation. To Sojourner’s utter shock, the creature complied backing off from the echidna. He immediately got up, preparing to defend himself, but the creature would just circle him, observing him with a low displeased growl but no intention of attacking. 

“What the hell…” Now that the echidna was in no immediate threat, he was able to get a good look at this ‘creature’. It was unlike any life form he’d encountered before on island, it was massive and beast like. It walked on all fours like a canine but it’s claws were huge and looked like they were meant more for digging. It had wolf-like ears but also long spines like an echidna would, and a massive tail. He could even see something shimmering on his body through its thick unkempt fur. 

Cybernetics? On this beast? Could this be a plot from the Legion… what the hell is this thing? The more he studied this creature the more familiar it’s appearance felt to him. His black red fur with hits of white showing his age, his piercing red eyes, even the arrangement of his cybernetics… It didn’t dawn on Sojourner until the creature faced him again, noticing the white crescent moon marking on his chest that starkly stood out against his dark fur. 

“D-Dad?” Sojourner muttered in disbelief…

‣[Continue?]

[prince-liest]

I am haunting your asks

oooo-OOOOOO-ooooo…

…do you have any Alastor-centered whump fics brewing?

HAHA, not currently! Or... kind of? I have a Mimzy & Alastor fic I'm contemplating, but it's not really whump so much as it is several ill-advised decisions made in the pursuit of friendship and compulsory heterosexuality/amatonormativity that end up making him deeply uncomfortable.

Once I got past my knee-jerk SHE RUINED THE SONG! reflexes (and honestly, even then, I had to admit she put her entire LUNGS into that solo), I really began to love Mimzy as a character. I think her presence in Alastor's life and the ways they interact with each other are really telling and I want to excavate their relationship more. Also she's charming as fuck and I love her.

ETA: ANON, I LIED, BIRD REMINDED ME THAT I THINK THE NEXT 666 (#6) PROBABLY COUNTS AS ALASTOR WHUMP.

[rhinocio]

Au idea, where the shredder actually looks for the last pice of the armor (the pice that was broken of of it) but it was fused to Leo’s foot since she stepped on it as a kid. So shredder tried to hunt him down to take it back. Leo could end up losing his foot if you want.

[ghostcasket]

Hey I'm wondering if you save the link to your hallmark boyfriends story. I was looking through my likes and past reblogs and I think it probably got lost somewhere, I wanna reread it :(

here u go <3 for your reading pleasure

[asktolys]

https://giedrazole.lt/

Maybe something like this! I love her works and think you might enjoy them too :)

This one is my favorite. I'll have to set some money aside to get it. So endearing... Thank you for introducing me to her artwork. I know exactly where I will put it. The space is empty now so...

[first-blight]

[shakes myself by the shoulders] YOU'D HAVE TO STOP THE WORLD JUST TO STOP THE FEELING!!!!!!!!