#li'l pocket

[pollie-pockets]

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Pep is so freakin cute!!! Decided to doodle him Along with a lil alt outfit. Hope you like it!

(Oh this is so cute and charming! It looks like he's posing for one of those photoshoots hehe!

Thank you so much!!!)

[brionysea]

parker in the 10 li'l grifters job is delightful. she's dressed up as nancy drew. she's laughing at her boys being so cranky about letting sophie dress them up too. she only cares if nate killed someone and didn't tell them, not if nate actually killed someone. "there's something weird about these hallways. the dimensions are off." "wha- huh- the dimensions are off????" (<- actual genius alec hardison who can't see the world the way parker sees it) "do you have that thing with enclosed spaces?" *disappears into the walls* eliot has to adapt to a thief/grifter role and keeps assaulting the guests because parker's too busy exploring the secret corridors to pick pockets. she's having a blast and so am i

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hello hello! I would like to request a Hobie fic if that’s okay! If the concept makes you uncomfortable in any way shape or form I completely understand if you delete this or refuse. But I think the idea of Hobie getting baby fever after babysitting Mayday is so sweet. Him envisioning a little you and him running around with both of your features and he just scoops you up in a kiss, and shyly tells you about how he’s been thinking about how he wants a baby with you (I hope that’s not too uncomfortable or weird or strange!! Thank you for reading and I hope you’re having a good day/evening!!)

Ajsljdldnlsnldnldn this ask got me feral™ Ilysm

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

Soft!Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Because I'm tired of repeating myself: HOBIE IS AGED UP IN THIS FIC

TW/CW: Hobie being a secret softie, baby fever, NSFW, oral Fem! Receiving, punk with a heart of gold spray paint, Peter knowing things™, pregnancy mentions, babies, talk of babies, oh, and Mayday's here, too!

All characters stated in NSFW situations in my fics are all aged up or of age.

MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

"Oi, like this." Hobie laughed at the toddler sitting on his chest, staring down at him as he laid on the carpet of he and his girlfriend's shared flat.

"Ho..." He started.

"Hoooo..." Mayday coo'd.

"Bieeee." He smiled, his mouth spread in a wide grin.

"Beeeeeee!" She squealed, clapping her pudgy little hands.

"Now say it: Hobie."

"Hah-buh." Mayday giggled.

"Ah, close enough ya li'le runt!" Hobie laughed, sitting up so Mayday was laying in his lap, tickling her little rolls on her tummy. "Ya lucky you're so cute, kid!"

Mayday grabbed his shirt and pulled herself up, looking at him with a happy smile, her unruly red-brown hair bobbing.

Hobie sighed as he looked down at her, huffing a small chuckle. "I swear, if I--"

"Had one of your own?" Peter B grinned, leaning on the pillar that was in between the kitchen and living room.

"Uh--" Hobie coughed awkwardly. "I wasn't..."

"Hey, man, I'm not surprised Mayday would make you want one of your own." Peter laughed, walking over and scooping up his young daughter.

"My little girl here seems to give people baby fever! Must be her mom's genes or something! Or maybe... Just that cute little face! Om nom nom!" Peter grinned, pretending to nibble on Mayday's cheeks, earning a loud squeal as she kicks and squirms from her father's affections.

Peter chuckled and tucked her safely into the chest harness, smirking at Hobie as he stood.

"You notice how Jess got pregnant not too long after I asked her to watch Mayday? I mean, it could be a coincidence... Or canon event."

Hobie groaned at his word usage, handing Peter the diaper bag. "Ugh, you sound like the ol' stiff at HQ."

"Hey, just making a joke. I gotta compensate for Miguel's lack of humor somehow."

Hobie shoved his hands in his pockets, sighing as he looked off to the side.

Peter put his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Seriously... Are you thinking about having a baby?"

"I mean..." Hobie struggled, his jaw tensing. "I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't, but..."

"You're not sure you wanna bring it up with your girl?" Peter supplied, Mayday's tiny hand gripping his fingers.

"I mean, Pete, we're not even hitched." Hobie shrugged.

"Not all couples need to be married before having a runt of their own."

"Yeh, yeh..." Hobie sniffed, trying to sound bored.

"All right, I'm heading out. See ya, Hobie. I owe ya one." Peter grinned.

"That ya do, bruv."

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

When you came home, Hobie was sitting on the settee by the window, strumming idle notes on his guitar, bobbing his head to a tune only he could hear.

You dropped your purse and keys on the dining table next to the door, and slipped off your shoes.

Slowly, you dragged your feet over to the sofa opposite of the settee Hobie was currently perched on.

"You 'right, luv?" Hobie asked, setting the guitar down and walking over to kneel next to the sofa.

"Work sucked." You groaned into the cushions.

Hobie put his hand around the back of your neck and started to massage the tension there with the pads of his fingers, urging a gentle sigh from you as you turned your head to look at him.

"Better?"

"Very much so."

Hobie grinned at you, and barely gave you a moment before picking you up and swinging you in a circle, earning a shriek and laugh from you.

"Hobie! You shit!" You laugh, slipping your arms around his neck as he set you on your feet, looking up at him with those big gorgeous eyes.

"Had to see you laugh, luv." Hobie said, leaning down to bury his face in your neck, breathing into your perfume. "Laughter is the best medicine, as they say."

You sigh and relax into the embrace, a gentle pause in the conversation.

"Where's Mayday? You said you were watching her for Peter, today."

"He came 'n got her." Hobie mumbled.

"...What's wrong?" You ask, reaching up to flick one of his large fluffy dreads.

".... Nothin'."

"Hobie Brown, it is not nothin'." You say suspiciously, pulling back so he looked you in the eyes. "What's on your mind? You can talk to me, babe."

"Yeah, but..." Hobie looked at the carpet in hesitation.

"Hobie..." You prod.

"I..." Hobie suddenly felt a paralyzing feeling seize his gut. He could face Osborne's oppressive regime with a grin, can of paint, and a middle finger straight up... But this? This topic was...

"Sweetheart." You say, touching his cheek.

"Do y' wanna have a baby?" He blurted.

You blink up at him owlishly.

"What?"

"I... Shit." Hobie groaned, separating from you as he marches back and forth, a hand to his head.

"Hobie--"

"Nah, nah, forget I said anything. I just..." He stood, his back to you, his shoulders slumped defeatedly.

"They'd look good, y'know? If we had a kid. Cute. Your eyes, your smile. That giddy li'le laugh o' yours. I just... Dealing with Mayday feels... I d'nno. I just..."

"Hobie... Are you saying you... You want to have a baby? With me?" You ask softly, touching his shoulder.

"Yeah."

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Fuck it.

"...All right. We can handle it. I make enough money, we have enough room..." You start rattling off stuff, going into planning mode.

Hobie looked at you, his jaw dropped as you started muttering to yourself. It sounded like you were already four steps ahead, planning out budgets, where to get stuff for a baby, working on a schedule that you can juggle with work after the baby is born...

He felt his head catch in his throat as he watched you put your hand to your chin, a gesture you often made when you were putting serious thought into something.

He grinned widely, grabbing you by the waist and practically tackling you onto the sofa.

"Wha--Hobie! I was thinking!" You protest.

"I know." Hobie says, claiming your mouth in a hungry, heated kiss.

The passion of which he moved robbed you of breath. He pulled your hair out of its confines, rubbing his fingers through the silken strands, the healed callouses on his fingertips finding refuge there among the softness.

When he pulled away, he smirked at you, his dark eyes alight with a spark. A spark you knew well.

A spark that meant Hobie was up to no good.

"H-Hobie--" You gulp.

"Ay, you got me all in a sitch here, yeh?" Hobie grinned. "Can't jus' say all that, look at me with those big eyes and not expect me to wanna..."

His other hand went to your jeans, tugging the button out of the loop and pulling the zipper down, his body slipping off the couch to kneel between your legs, tugging the denim down your hips and tossing the fabric onto the coffee table. He didn't bother with your socks.

He smirked with satisfaction when he saw the damp patch in the lace of your panties.

"Been thinkin' about me, luv?" He hummed, looking up at you. "Work have you that stressed? Need a lil' relief?"

His fingers slid up your bare thighs, teasing the edges of the panties that hugged the plush of your thighs, and you shuddered.

"You... Ugh, I don't know what to do with you." You groaned, dropping your head back, sighing at the ceiling.

"Oh, but I know what to do with you." Hobie purred, pushing the damp fabric aside, blowing a cool puff of air over your damp slit.

You shivered. "You little..."

You wished your voice didn't sound so breathy.

"You always do that! Why--" The moment you looked down and met his eyes, his mouth latched straight onto your clit, growling and sending a wave of vibrations that made your toes curl and a shocked mewl tear from your throat as the piercing in his tongue added extra sensations.

One of Hobie's favorite hobbies was to eat you out. He could sit for hours and do it, licking and kissing until you couldn't feel your limbs from how overstimulated you became.

Your taste was probably the only hard "drug" he could ever imagine getting addicted to.

He licked a broad fat stripe up, then down, bringing his thumb to push against your clit as he delved his almost-too-long tongue into your hole, writhing and pressing, rolling and tugging as your muscles attempt to draw him further.

He pulled his tongue out and licked upwards, pushing not one, but two of his fingers inside of you, curling them upwards as his other hand pressed down on the lowest part of your belly in tandem with each crook of his digits and flick of his tongue.

You writhed, hands going to tug at the bushy dreads on his scalp.

"Hobie--fuck!" You cried out, rolling your hips to meet him, your orgasm already beginning to swell, burning low in your belly.

"Go on, luv. Cum f' me." Hobie growled, pressing his piercing up at your clit, his chin already dripping with your juices.

You whine, a hiccup bubbling out of you as he adds a third finger, thrusting them in and out of you at a pace that had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

"Hobie!" You cry out, arching your back into him as he fucks you with his tongue and hands, pressing down on your skin to make the sensations more intense; your orgasm cresting and shattering your dam of restraint.

You dropped, limp onto the cushions as Hobie sucked his fingers clean, licking his lips and wiping his chin dry, licking up the remainder of your slick that was still on his face.

"Right, luv. Let's get down to business." He chuckled, climbing over on top of you, hastily unbuckling the belt, tugging his torn jeans down his hips, his boxers going along with, revealing how eager he was for you.

"We can get hitched after the baby is born, yeh?"

Pt: 2: Link

[ryttu3k]

can’t get over how much batstarion resembles a Kitti’s hognose bat, the smallest known bat species and possibly the smallest extant mammal

Oh my god it's so li'l?? Actual Batstarion appears to be a pretty decent size, at least flying fox size, but yeah, otherwise this fits!

Personally, I'm in favour of the Honduran white bats. Particularly, this one <3

"I am the Vampire Ascendant!!"

"Yes, dear. *sticks him in a pocket to prevent him making bad decisions*"

[hitmewithsomebooks]

@jegulus-microfic Jan 31 - lock

Cowboy James

1,333 words

NSFW, explicit-ish, mostly just touchy

First part Previous part

~

It took James not a minute to snatch Regulus's phone from Sirius's back pocket. As the cowboy had predicted, the bartender didn't even notice. James wasted no time grabbing a giggling Regulus by the waist and leading him out to his truck.

The entire ride, James was playing with Regulus's curls, his thighs, pulling him over for kisses.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" Regulus scolded, but it was only half-hearted, with a tipsy smile. James just smirked, one hand on the wheel, the other on Regulus's thigh.

When they finally arrived at James's house, Regulus sighed, relieved to be able to get some fresh air. James's teasing on top of his alcohol intake had left him a bit flustered. But when he went to open the door, it was locked.

"James." He whined, partly because of the door and partly because the man had begun kissing his neck. The cowboy simply hummed against him, and Regulus huffed.

"Open the door."

James smiled.

"But it's so nice and cozy ‘n here." James murmured, and Regulus groaned.

"C'mon, just open it..." Regulus protested, pushing the cowboy away. He then leaned across James, trying to reach the lock. James blocked him, laughing, grabbing Regulus by the shoulders and positioning himself in the way. Regulus shuffled closer, crawling over the gear shift. He could almost reach the lock, but then James grabbed his wrists and began nuzzling his neck. Regulus faltered, and James took the opportunity to pull the smaller man into his lap, so Regulus was straddling those glorious jean-clad thighs.

"Mmm, ah could get used to this." James's voice rumbled, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

"Not much space in here."

"Don' need that much space, sugar. Ah wanna keep you close, anyhow." James remarked with a kiss, one that made Regulus forget about the truck for a moment. He leaned forward, trailing kisses down the to side of James's neck, where he began sucking and biting. James groaned, letting his head drop back against the seat. Regulus smirked against his skin, giving it one final nip as he reached over and unlocked the door. He was out of the truck in an instant, sprinting to James's front door.

"Oh you li'l shit." Regulus heard as James swung out of the truck, and he threw his head back and laughed. In a flash, James was on the porch in front of Regulus, backing him against the wall. Regulus couldn't contain his smile.

"Seems like quite a big house for just one man." He commented, gesturing to the house they were standing just outside of. James hummed against his neck, flicking his tongue over Regulus's pulse, whose breath stuttered.

"It's my parents' house."

Regulus couldn't help himself.

"Really? A grown man, and you still live with your parents?" He queried, and James narrowed his eyes at him.

"Durin' the summer t' help my pops with the farm, y'little brat." James replied, and Regulus grinned at him.

"Where are they now?"

"Visitin' some fam'ly friends. They won' be back tonight, don' you worry."

"Why would I worry?"

James leaned forward, biting Regulus's neck.

"Fancy li'l brat." He growled, finally backing them to his door and opening it. They stumbled inside, now reattaching their lips in another heated kiss. James pulled back to grab Regulus by the hand and lead him down the hall.

"Are we going to your childhood bedroom?" Regulus questioned, snickering slightly.

"Nah, they turned that into a st’rage space. This 's the guest bedroom." James answered as he swung the door open.

"Oh, and is this better?"

"Yup. Y'know why?"

"Why?" Regulus answered, eyebrow raised.

"Cuz it's gotta bigger bed." James murmured, pulling him into another kiss. They stumbled backward, the door swinging closed behind them, before the backs of James's knees hit into the bed, and he sat. He pulled Regulus right onto his lap, just like their position in the truck. Except this time, Regulus stayed put, and let James mouth at his neck and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"Goddamn, y' really are sugar. Ah could jus' eat you up." James rumbled, kissing and sucking across Regulus's now bare chest. The younger man sighed, working on James's own shirt. The man paused his own actions, pulling his shirt by the neck and over his head, dislodging his hat. Regulus swiftly plucked it off the bed, placing it atop his own curls. When James looked up, his lips parted, taking in the sight that was Regulus wearing his hat.

"Well fuck me." He murmured, running a thumb along the brim, trailing down to Regulus's lips.

"That is the goal." Regulus hummed against his thumb, smirking. James pressed, shushing Regulus, who simply sucked the thumb into his mouth. Hazel eyes widened, pupils swallowing iris, and James licked his lips.

"Regulus. Can ah fuck you, please?" James groaned, and him saying Regulus's name like that made it even easier to say yes.

From there things progressed quickly, feverishly, clothing thrown haphazardly across the floor and praise whispered into mouths. Regulus was already falling apart as James whispered things like “you’re an angel,” “so good, so gorgeous,” and “baby, please let me.”

Soon Regulus was gasping as he sunk down onto James’s cock, both groaning as he bottomed out. They started off slow, savoring the feeling, James dragging his lips along Regulus’s shoulder, his fingers down his back. Soon they picked up the pace, though, until James was thrusting up into Regulus, the man’s thin fingers buried in James’s curls. James fell over the edge quicker than he’d have liked, the sight of Regulus riding him like a true cowboy, wearing his hat, too hot to handle. Regulus followed him, gasping and pulling James in for bruising kiss, before they collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep sprawled across one another.

*

It was mid-morning when Regulus woke up, blinking as he adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He laid on a warm, strong arm, and rolled over to find a still very asleep James. His eyelashes cast pretty shadows on his tanned face, hair splayed across the pillow. Perfect lips parted just slightly, his sculpted chest rose and fell peacefully. After admiring the man for a good minute —or five— Regulus moved to get out of the bed. But strong arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him close again.

"I thought you were asleep." Regulus murmured, amused.

"Half 'sleep." James mumbled, face buried between Regulus's shoulders. Regulus chuckled.

“Ah felt y’ starin’ there, angel.” The cowboy murmured, and Regulus’s smile was giddy.

“And?”

“See anythin’ y’like?”

“Many things.”

James’s grip tightened slightly, nosing along Regulus’s neck fondly, pressed kisses at his nape. Regulus wriggled against him, trying to break free. It was a moot point, though, as the strong arms only tightened around him.

"Don' go..." James whined against him. "Stay here w’th me..."

"Stop talking, it tickles..." Regulus laughed, squirming again in the man's arms. He felt James's grin against his back. Then, a deft tongue darted out, tickling his skin. Regulus let out a little shriek, pushing against the arms keeping him trapped.

"If ya stop tryna leave, ah’ll stop ticklin' ya." James told his back, and Regulus huffed.

"Fine." The younger man groused, rolling his eyes even though the man couldn't see it, settling back against the strong body. The position wasn't exactly something he could complain about. He felt James smile against his back, then feather-light kisses up his spine, making him shiver.

"Wish ah could jus' keep y’locked up 'n my bed fr'ver." James mumbled, nuzzling Regulus's neck.

"That would be kidnapping." Regulus replied, but he settled into James's arms as he said it.

"Would it, now? You don' seem too reluctant to be here, sweet pea." James drawled, smoothing his hand down Regulus's side. The smaller man hummed, leaning into the touch.

"Case in point." James said triumphantly, and Regulus didn't have to look at his face to know he was pleased with himself.

~

Next part

[powderblueblood]

How about Lacy finding Eddie's writing? 🤭

need you to imagine me listening to a fifth of beethoven from the saturday night fever soundtrack whilst writing this because i became insane and filled it with Clues.............

it's like trying to understand the fucking zodiac killer.

it's all codes and ciphers and scrawls and-- well, she thought she might have been reading that one upside down but it's actually indecipherable any way you twist it.

and it's not like any of it is even written on paper either. torn open cigarette packs, napkins, burger wrappers from the diner. one time a leaf.

because eddie's not like lacy in the way she keeps a journal but eddie's like lacy in that if he's roundhoused with a thought that he needs to remember, he's got to write it down now immediately pronto on any available surface.

which is pretty pointless, since he keeps losing all this garbage and she has to pick it up after him.

she bears over the spread of scraps like an fbi agent, palms braced to the table. there's a thread here, but she can't quite untangle it. she's staring at a pile of shit that says shit like

crabs incident-- bruised like a peach worth biting-- violet like violence??

red tights. tingly. carnelian little carnivore.

track two. treasure.

persephone's hall pass.

seventh grade & as many minutes in limbo. shoulda ripped off band aid.

mage in a mink coat.

well, that last one--

"you dumpster diving now? hard times."

fuck! fuck. told you, rat blood. appearing out of nowhere with no noise no notice to then become the loudest thing in the room. he's like thunderclap, this fucko, like a spontaneous combustion.

he also doesn't even recognize his own handwriting, seems like. she blushes, furious. doesn't know why.

"community service. they have me picking up the trailer trash's trailer trash."

"snitty!" he shoves the bag of chips he's holding at her--an offering, he can't do anything normal around her--and reaches for one of the scraps. lacy watches him like a scientist watching a guinea pig for brain activity-- and his eyes go all wide and panicky. "wait."

"eddie-- hey!" but he's scrambling now, going for all the little pieces of writing she'd been trying to arrange on the table like a pointless puzzle. "don't--"

"where'd you get all this shit, huh?! going through my pockets now, is that it? like a cop?"

"i-- hey, don't you fucking dare-- look, you shed!"

"i shed?"

"you shed. you've got shit falling out of that stupid, enormous nerd binder every goddamn day because you just shove shit in there and don't organize anything, and i wasn't gonna stand around and let you just litter everywhere and--" now it's her turn to be like. wait. crosses her arms, eyes narrow, she's mother superior serving nailed ya bitch. "--why are you all skittish?"

"huh?"

"it's just-- trash, right?" she snatches a burger wrapper out of his grasp. oh this is delish.

"yeah," he grabs, but she's holding it behind her back and god her face is like stupid smirky, "but it's my trash. my--giveit--private... trash."

eddie munson is blushing.

"who's the mage?"

"the fucking.... the what?"

little crinkle as she unfolds a piece torn off a brown paper bag. "mage in a mink coat. who's that?"

"nobody."

"i have a mink coat."

"oh. does that really say mage? 'coz it should say mange." he's such an asshole. she's grinning so wide.

everyone says revenge is a dish best served cold but she bets she could use eddie munson's cheeks as a hotplate and eat right off 'em. it'd taste so much better. lobster bisque. filet mignon. michelin star.

"have you been writing about me, munson?"

his face is all stone-set, mouth all i can't fucking believe this and eyes all i'd cut the brake lines in her van if she wasn't the one scamming rides off me all the time. "li'l miss my life is incomplete without eddie munson wants to talk?"

"called you a neanderthal in the next sentence. don't forget that."

"you're such a beastie."

"carnelian little carnivore, you wrote."

"what makes you so sure it's all about you, huh?"

"context clues."

he glances down. she is, in fact, wearing the aforementioned tingly-feeling-inspiring red tights again today. shit.

"what happened in seventh grade?" she's pointing to the scrap in his hand, one he's managed to keep out of her snatchy little fingers.

she doesn't remember anything significant about seventh grade. but he does, and a knot tightens in his chest and he's about to lie and say something crass about my fist, a stopwatch and a view of you from underneath the bleachers at cheerleading practice-- then final bell rings.

"that is for me to know--"

"--and for me to die ignorant?" she's an active listener.

"precisely, you wench. now get the fuck outta here, i got hellfire."

lacy leaves the scraps.

"i will find out, y'know."

he knows. "you're like a bitch with a bone that way."

"the bitchiest."

[knightofwounds]

Tournament

For @adelarsims event.

Okay, I didn't bring the guy first, like was planned, but I still took the leap of faith as recommended. So, after silent first year in the community I am ready to introduce the two young participants of the tournament.

Is she li'l or is he tall? Yes.

Although… Miss Gemma Charm needs no introduction. The youngest daughter of the Charm family, an ancient magical lineage, she is set to make her 16th birthday debut at this year's magical tournament.

Traits: Goofball, Art Lover (+Creative and Perfectionist with mod). Aspiration: Spellcraft & Sorcery (in this family she had no choice, to be honest). Skills: Charisma, Comedy, Logic, Mischief, Painting. Likes (in the game process): Pranks, painting, comedy, new age, argumentative sims, silly behavior. Dislikes: Fitness, egoistical sims.

Her mother Minerva Charm is a powerful and respected witch, her brother Darrell is a famous duelist, she herself has been reminded of who she is almost every day since childhood - all of this is definitely exerting some pressure on the young witch, especially now. Oh, the status obliges.

It's no wonder that behind her carefree facade, Gemma is secretly afraid of not living up to the high expectations of her family and the magical community.

And perhaps the big event would have been an equally grandiose nervous breakdown and she would have given up before it even began if it wasn’t for Glenn O'Malley.

Gemma's stubborn and unpredictable school friend simply stated: "It's dangerous to go alone, take this! And by “this”, I mean “me”. Eh, shut up, Gem, that's not a suggestion, but a declaration."

Traits: Mean, Erratic (+Hot-headed and Loyal with mod). Aspiration: Renaissance Sim. Skills: Dancing, Writing, Painting, Mischief, Fitness. Likes: Red color, funny sims, writing, dancing, gemology, potty humor. Dislikes: Complains, physical intimacy, discussing hobbies, ginger hair (yeah, actually his own hater #1).

You might be a tough street guy, who dare not be teased for an old-fashioned name or anything else, but if your friend wants an one paired outfit for an important event and gain access to your face with her questionable makeup skills… okay then. But just one!

But who the hell is he and what happened?

To be honest, he wasn't even a spellcaster until recently: just a rather unpleasant person who, nonetheless, cared deeply for his small circle of people important to him.

And Glenn got used to the fact that usually in their duo, he was the always annoyed (and annoying) creature with a short temper, but not Gemma. And this time it was hard for him to say "okay, keep your little secrets."

Of course, his friend always had some weird secrets, but she never was so tense and blue because of it. And it was going on for a while, so…

He was smart enough to put together a certain number of details into a whole picture and crazy enough not to try and rationalize the strange result, but just to test the theory.

And a month before the tournament, he met Gemma in the magical dimension with the words "don't you want to tell me something at least now, girl?"

Does Glenn have decent magical skills? Not yet.

Does he have decent physical form and the ability to improvise and adapt skills from one area of ​​knowledge to an unrelated one, compensating for his lack of experience or tools, without worrying about how strange or contradictory it looks? Hell yes.

A guy with the behavior of a delinquent and dirty mouth of a sailor but the cultural background of artsy kid and vocabulary of a poet, he once applied his many years of dancing experience to the football field (also for another favorite person btw), developing unexpected tactics to deal with his opponents.

What will he come up with for magic? Who knows.

Anyway, now it's not so scary to be ashamed together, right? Maybe two Neophytes with a couple of entry-level spells, a pack of cheap cigarettes, creative brains and pockets full of love for shenanigans won't win, but now it's going to be a fun adventure.

(At least for them: this duo of unruly teens can’t vouch for those who meet on their way, oops).

[quotidian-oblivion]

Of course, fellow evil tim drake au writer

It's a series actually. And I've planned the whole series out, but not the fics in it or even how many fics are there in it. But the name of the series is:

Found Him

Because by the end, the Bats might just have found the real Tim Drake.

I'm reading the outlines for my evil Tim Drake AU and I am SCREECHING.

[careless-with-your-heart]

Yes, yes, reposting the same GIF twice in a row - BUT BUT BUT hear me out. What the fuck is in Blaine's li'l filing system on the wall behind him? I am hyperventilating at the thought of him filing shit in a little wall pocket.

"Did you murder that guy I told you to? Yeah? Good. Now fork over your lunch receipt or no per diem reimbursement. Yeah. Second folder from the top."

[dollsonmain]

Ok I'm going to explode if I don't talk about the big batch of unfortunate ponies that are on their way in for an emergency cleaning.

I am so excited and happy and grateful that I get a chance to clean them up because I'd never get to see many of these ponies in person otherwise since they're too pricey for me to buy.

I'll put it behind a cut, though, so their owner can choose whether or not to view my preliminary assessments which are based on the sales photos.

So, these were an expensive eBay lot with a lot of rare ponies in it which was an excellent price for all of them together. When they arrived to their buyer, it was discovered that they absolutely reek of mildew/mold. That's extremely disappointing.

They got packed right back up and are already on their way here.

Normally, boxes of ponies coming from there say they'll take a week and a half or so then suddenly appear after a couple days. I don't think that's going to happen this time, being Giftmas.

I had linked to the sale a while back but I didn't look super close at the pictures because there was no way I was going to be bidding, until today. They certainly LOOK stinky.

Mildew stink is easier to remove than smoke, regardless of whether it's cigarette smoke or whatever my Wave Runner smells of (it smells like she was in a house fire). Mildew stops stinking for the most part once it's all dead, and it's all certainly going to be very dead when I'm done with these ponies.

I have an ozone generator which will help if the bad smell doesn't wash off sufficiently. They can also be treated like rustbutts and given an oxyclean soak inside and out though that's rough on the hair so not my first choice. I may also get that UVC lamp and add it to the SunBox which is good for killing off mold and mildew. Then it's a question of how efficiently I remove it all from the vinyl, or how deeply the scent has gotten into said vinyl.

I'm both feeling optimistic and wary of that optimism. I don't want to get my own hopes up. Gotta keep that shit realistic.

If everyone got wet enough to mold, I don't think Talk-a-Lot is going to be functional. Hopefully she doesn't have batteries corroding in there. If that stuff on her face comes off, though, she'll at least be good for display. She looks very bright and fresh, otherwise.

Look at that scrungy hair on Merry Treat. hohoho bitch I am so excited. She also has some yellow on her face that will hopefully wash off. If it doesn't, yellow does cooperate pretty well with hydrogen peroxide and the SunBox.

I can already see that Mommy has unstable vinyl. That's a shame. Mommy and Baby are Euro exclusive IIRC, and difficult to get, here.

I'm not sure those dark spots on Baby aren't stains. I hope not, but it kind of looks like marker eyeliner.

These little pearlized babies are downright disgusting... Poor things. The pearl paint is surprisingly not as difficult to clean as I'd feared when the first ones showed up, what was it last year? It can withstand a gentle melamine sponging just as well as the cutie mark and eye paint. I also have a matching pearl paint to help with patching in where needed, though I don't have any semi-gloss sealant so any patched areas would rub off again rather easily. Good enough for display. I am rather confident they will turn out just fine.

Look at that knotted up wad of tail tinsel. (❁´◡`❁) I can't WAIT to make that all smooth and pretty again. Hopefully the stuff on her will come off... I can't tell if she has all of her hair and there were no photos of her other side. It looks like it might be shorter, but that can be caused by being matted, too. Fingers crossed it's all there.

Even with a haircut, Rapunzel's resale value is preposterous, which is why I will never own one.

There's some yellow grime on Birthday Pony and Firefly. I'm wary. It will either wipe right off or is stained. No way to know until I start cleaning.

There are no photos of the other side of Li'l Pocket. I wonder if she has her piggy bank and coin, still.

There's a little Remco donkey in there! I was wanting to see one, and now I don't have to buy one to get to.

Swirly Whirly.... I can't tell if the grime is ON her or IN her. She does seem to have shadowing in thinner areas but that can be both caused by dark mildew inside the body and just the fact that it's thinner, there, and there's a bit of a shadow inside. I won't know until I crack her open. When there's dirt stuck in the rooting holes like that, in my experience, it's coming from inside the body. Which is not a problem.

Her horrible hair texture excites me.

I have seen a few Glow n Shows go opaque even more than Starglow there... No idea what causes it. Happyglow in this same batch seems fine.

Someday I want to have some Glow n Shows.

I expect this to be stains. When it's been little round blooms like that, it's generally stained. I hope I'm proven wrong. She has her key, which is EXCITE.

There have been times where I've picked up a pony that looked like they had blooms and I didn't think they'd come off, and they wiped off no problem.

I actually have this one. She's my only remaining childhood pony. My Secret Beauty's key is long gone, though, and her saddle can barely stay latched anymore. The spring for the latch is worn out. She also has an ink stain on her cheek.

.... I don't even know. The listing doesn't say what this dog is.

[flannelepicurean]

Yo, hey, also, if you're an anxious and/or stressed LGBTQ+ person like myself, and like little games about tasks, like Stardew Valley or My Time at Portia or stuff like that, check out Hokko Life.

It's one of those cute little "do things" games, and there are some things about it that I really, really love:

In a lot of these games, there's a set town structure and cast of characters. In Hokko, there are some keystone elements. But each save file has a different "town area" map that you get to build and expand your little town into. There are two residents to begin with, other than you and the shopkeepers in the main town area (separate), and THOSE COULD BE DIFFERENT. From what I can tell, there are at least 4 possible starter residents, and you can get different combinations per save file.

The days are looooooooooong. This is different from Stardew, for example, where you can feel really pressed to "get everything done" in one day. In Hokko, you have PLENTY of time. And you have the option to take a li'l nap at your house if you want to, so you can skip 2 hours or 6 hours without losing the whole damn day. Or just...take a lil nap.

There are NO GENDER OPTIONS in character creator. You start with the same starter outfit, and have 100% of the starter customization options. Everyone calls you "they/them." A good number of the residents are "they/them." You are just...nonbinary/gender neutral/agender. Periodt.

You are the only humanoid. Everyone else is basically stuffed animals. The first folks you meet are a pink elephant who looks like she maybe has vitiligo and a giraffe with a general store who has extremely Dad Jokes Energy. There are all kinds of other interesting animal folks with different personalities. My game has a green emo/skater pig who seems like they might be a stoner and possibly vegan. Definitely cares about their carbon footprint.

Everything is SO CHILL. There's not really energy to manage or anything, you don't get hungry, you don't have to run around making sure you talk to everybody enough so you don't get less popular. Even if you fail a task for a resident...nothing bad happens. Or at least, that I can tell so far. Just like, whoops. Couldn't find that fish. Oh well. I can make you that paint, though. No worries. All good.

When you DO complete tasks, you get clothing items. And like...the first one I got was a "striped skirt" or something. And I was like, "Oh, that looks kinda-sorta-almost like a nonbinary pride flag. Cool." And then I got some yellow shoes, and a red jacket. And then a "Happy Knit Sweater," which was DEFINITELY ABSOLUTELY a trans pride flag pattern! And then a tee shirt with rainbow sleeves and a rainbow pocket? So like...THEY GIVE YOU LGBTQ+ PRIDE MERCH FOR YOUR LI'L NONBINARY PAL. And then I realized I very much had trans flag wallpaper in my house. 😂 I freaking love this.

You can MAKE YOUR OWN FURNITURE. There's a whole subset of customization and item creation where you can just...design your own furniture and decorative items from almost scratch. You unlock sets of shapes for the crafting & design table, and then you can go into a 3D design space and just...put some wooden spheres together however you want! Add a leaf shape! Put a brass "7" on it! Go crazy! And then you get to save your design and you can craft it again later if you want to make more, or sell them. It just...becomes an item in your game.

The music is super chill. Because of course.

The fishing system is good, for the way I like to play. It's very easy to see the fish, it's very easy to know when you need to "hook/catch," and following the system to reel in is easy to understand. It requires a little effort, it's not an auto-catch, but it's not stressful. It's a TASK, but not a HEADACHE. And you can do it without bait and still be fine.

There's a whole entire thing around catching butterflies. You can just frolic around all day in your pride-wear catching butterflies if you want. It's lovely.

You can save and exit at any point. SUPER IMPORTANT. Can't tell you how many times I've felt some stress about like, "AAAARRRGGGHHH, I have to get to a good spot to stop this Stardew day, or just start over again..." Nah. Hokko, you just hit escape, "Save & Exit." When you load up again, you'll be in your house, with the same stuff on hand/in your backpack.

I actually kinda also like that there doesn't seem to be a romance component? Like, that's neat and all when it is available, but I don't always want the townsfolk coming onto me just because I've given them sufficient eggs or whatever. I might have needed to do those quests to advance the plot, or get a new shovel or something. And maybe I'm not actually down to clown, homie.

Anyway, I'm thoroughly enjoying this game. Got it in the Steam Sale. I think it's not crazy expensive even regular price? My one issue that I'm running into is that the wiki for it is like...zero content. Or just not much in-depth stuff beyond the very bare basics for some of it. So when I want info or hit a snag, I been using Duck Duck Go on that biz, or hitting the Steam Forums. Not the worst thing in the world.

[justanotherblonde]

it's sasodei week 2024!

i have precisely one thing to contribute, but ffs it's not done yet grr!! maybe we can blame my dog... she demanded i come play with her no less than nine times (i kept track) as i wrote this post (she does this by shouting at me then humping my leg to show me who's boss, sometimes pulling on my sweater sleeve with her sharp li'l teefs, beagles, man, i tell ya...) 🐶

anyway!! here's a TEASER of my Day 3 Band/Rockstar/Idol AU story ahhhhh!!! it's not even titled yet!!!!! i don't even really know what the tags will be! and i haven't had time to make a header image!! 😫

but this i know, oh this i know:

Sasori is first chair cello of the Sunagakure Philharmonic

He has a dirty little secret hobby: listening to metal (among other genres that are definitely not classical)

One of the bands he listens to is called C4

Guess who's the lead singer???

Yes, you guessed it, it's Deidara, singer/song-writer, perhaps much more...

In this AU, everybody lives!! Well... okay fine, Sasori's parents still didn't make it, i'm sorry

But that means two important things: Third Kazekage is alive! And there are a LOT of Uchiha running around.

There's more, a lot more, but you'll have to wait until i steal more minutes and hours from my dog and my work! but i'll give it to ya, come hell or high water! or wildfires, earthquakes, debilitating PM 2.5 ratings, or uh... dare i say... another pandemic??? FEAR NOT!

if you want to wait for the full thing to drop to read, i've left the teaser excerpt below the cut.

a million thanks to @sasodeiweek for hosting this event and encouraging us SasoDei creators to flex our creative muscles! loving all the contributions so far!

and without further ado...

Rehearsal ran circles round Sasori’s ears. The music followed him always, all hours.

Chapter 1

Rehearsal ran circles round Sasori’s ears. The music followed him always, all hours.

The fine, agile fingers of his left hand twitched; his right hand swayed side to side, marking the strokes of his bow. Eyes half-closed, his feet kept time on the pavement as he walked. It was Haydn this week, Cello Concerto No. 1 in C major. A weighty yet familiar responsibility for Sasori, first chair cello of the Sunagakure Philharmonic.

He sighed. Rehearsal had wrapped half an hour ago. He was on his way home, and tomorrow was a rest day. He didn’t need to torture himself like this. 

The headphones around his neck were a comforting weight, as friendly and intimate as the straps of his cello case on his shoulders. He flipped them over his ears and dug in his coat pocket for his phone. Scrolling through the saved playlists on his music app, he skipped all of the classical “homework” and went straight for his guilty pleasures: dance-pop, glam-rock, musicals… and heavy metal. 

No one at work knew about his low, low tastes.

Well, the Third had known. 

Sasori gritted his teeth, biting back unbidden memories. Now he definitely needed to blast his brain clean with some noise. 

Something heavy.

Something loud.

Something to transport him far away from the sand-scraped streets of Sunagakure.

His thumb landed on the album he was looking for.

Art is an EXPLOSION by C4. Track 1: “Light It Up.”

From that first haunting guitar chord, the tension Sasori held in his chest and face dispersed. He rode that twisting whine down, down… someplace dark and cool, far beneath the earth. As the barreling drums built to a crescendo, he held his breath—wait for it!—

A million years, through timeless stone I’m damned to walk this path alone This darkness, all I’ve ever known…

The lead singer had a deep, melodic voice. He molded each word of the verse carefully, tenderly, as if he were embarking on a ballad… then WHAM!

Cymbals crashed; the roaring chorus caught the last two notes of an electrifying riff like a surfer hopping a wave:

Light it up! Hey, light it up! Strike a match and light it up! My fuse is short, ’m ready to blow, Crush the ceiling down to the floor!

Not in a million years would Sasori admit out loud to anyone that he listened to C4, especially not now that the public were actually aware of their existence. The metal band had catapulted to fame last year with their single “Burn Down All the Discos,” but Sasori had been listening to them well before that. Three years ago, his music app had recommended him a track from Art is an EXPLOSION—C4’s debut album—based on his eclectic streaming history. 

If the first song Sasori had heard by C4 had been anything but “Artist,” he’d probably never have given them a chance: their usual sound was, on the surface, sloppy, and most of the lyrics were childish boasts. “Look at me!” their vocalist seemed to say in every song. 

But “Artist” was different. It was, inexplicably, an up-tempo perversion of Vivaldi’s Winter Largo in F Minor, lamenting how hard it was to live for art’s sake when the world ran on money and heroic virtue. Listeners without classical training would be unable to appreciate or likely even identify the subtleties of what had been done with the classical score, but the first time he heard it, Sasori had been riveted. Vivaldi’s rhythmic harpsichord had been replaced with a softly tapped snare drum; a mournful electric guitar carried the melody when it wasn’t sung. 

Curiosity piqued, Sasori had investigated the rest of the album, and found similar nods to classical music throughout the tracks, much harder to notice than the adapted Vivaldi, drowned as they were in a thunderstorm of electric guitar and percussion. C4 were more than just a metal band: they experimented with typical traits of the genre and also drew from pop rock, classical music, even musical theatre to create a sound unlike anything Sasori had ever heard. They broke all the rules and they did it with glee.

One day—a rest day—home alone and bored, Sasori had looked up the band online. It surprised him to learn that the lead singer had been only sixteen when the band was formed. That powerful voice certainly didn’t sound like it belonged to a teenager. But the band’s website was light on biographical information, and Sasori hadn’t felt like digging deeper. An overwhelming amount of fan sites and social media accounts had sprung up since “Burn Down All the Discos” and C4’s world tour. Bored as he was that day, Sasori wasn’t about to use his precious free time to obsess over some flash-in-the-pan rock band, especially one fronted by a kid.

And yet, he still listened to them.

“Artist” often competed for the position of most frequently-played song on his app, but only when he was feeling particularly moody. 

It crossed his mind that he ought to check if C4 had come out with anything new lately—the app usually sent a message when artists he’d followed released new music. Pausing to wait for a traffic light, he dug for his phone again.

Lo and behold, a new album had dropped not three days ago.

Beauty of a Moment, it was called. The cover art featured the Venus de Milo... mid-explosion.

Sasori chuckled under his breath. “He really does fancy himself an artist, doesn’t he…” 

What a fool. Popular music was not art. Rock music was not art. It came and went, but the classics stayed. For centuries. Forever.

It was the one thing Sasori and the Third had always agreed on, despite all of their differences. 

Speaking of which… 

...

[leadshootingcupid]

Hey Sniper, Pauling convinced yah to do this ask blog thing too, huh? Cool.

I have a question for yah then: Where the hell are you storing all those damn piss jars? I swear, I stole like- two dozen from the BLU Sniper last match, and I'm ASSUMING you two have similar habits, so EXPLAIN YOURSELF. There's just no way you're pissing THAT MUCH DURING A MATCH, so SURELY you stockpile them, right?

I need to know this Sniper.

Your resident Hoarder,

- @welcome-to-my-hoard

Hey mate.

I see ya have chatted with Truckie 'bout the whole universe business already.

Anyhow, yea, I keep a li'l supply on me - 's what happens naturally, anyway - 'n I start off battles with a few jars at the ready whenever possible, with pockets 'n all.

But 's not like nothin' happens in battle, either.

Plus, there's usually some jars for restockin' in our respawn room.

Ripper job ya did on stealin' all that from the wanker, heh. Keep it up.

[bikeacrossloathing]

Welcome Back

Surprise! I'm back, and I have invoked the power of rebranding! No particular reason, I just think that "Bike Across Loathing" is a better and cooler name than "Fancomic of Loathing."

It's been quite some time since I posted my last comic, hasn't it? Since then, I lost motivation for FCoL, and shortly afterword lost interest in playing Kingdom of Loathing. But the bug has bitten me, and this game still holds a special place in my heart, right next to Donkey Kong 64 and Speed Racer.

Anyways, I'm hoping to update once every two weeks or so. Maybe more, if I can find the time.

Until then, take care, and have a Merry Crimbo, everyone. :)

P.S.: Because I am too eager to wait until everyone finds all the references in Pearl's flashbacks, and I like to ruin fun, here's a full spoilerlog (under cut):

Wart Dinsey is the final boss of Dinseylandfill, which is a not-so-subtle trash-themed parody of Walt Disney and Disneyland.

"May I have the honour of taking your life?", is word-for-word the same famous line spoken by Thorn Princess in Spy x Family (the "x" is silent). Pearl is even copying her pose.

"Honour" is spelled wrong, because I am Canadian. :)

"Again? Tomorrow? Forever?" is taken from "Die Again Tomorrow Forever," which is the title of the film that Jimmy and his friends were watching at the beginning of The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron - Operation: Rescue Jet Fusion. The entire episode is a parody of the James Bond film series.

In the 1990s, when Pokemon Red and Blue were first released in North America, players discovered the existence of Mew, the unobtainable 151st Pocket Monster. There were several rumours as to how you could find and catch Mew. One of the most well-known is that the player must interact with a truck that was unreachable without making use of glitches.

Mu, who has absolutely no relation to Mew, is a bundle of joy, and I love them.

The scene where Pearl is dressed as a pirate isn't referencing anything in particular. I did have a couple ideas for gags, but I acted on none of them.

The final scene is a depiction of the end of the Repair the Elves' Shield Generator quest, which takes place on the moons of Loathing. In order to get this quest, you'll need to use a Transporter Transponder, which are only dropped by the Li'l Xenomorph familiar (which you can see riding in Pearl's sidecar). No idea where it gets them, it's probably best not to question it.

[bibastibootz]

Diese Szene hnnnng.

But also... he's jus' a tiny li'l guy 🥺🤲🏻

(I'm so sorry aber ich konnte es nicht nicht sehen.)

just a lil guy 🥺 fits into our pocket!!!!