#maybe they could even roll for him in combat idk

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

so instead of trying to get everyone together to play dnd and commit to a night per month or something, i’m going to have my sister and nephew create characters and then design them a short, casual adventure. i never really intended to be dm, but i’m a writer and also i have the most time and energy to do the harder bit of the setup. it’s also nice and low-pressure with just the three of us playing, so i’m not stressed. i’m having ideas! it actually sounds really fun to create the game for them to explore and keep it balanced and fun for them. now i just have to do everything and wait for the right timing to play, which shouldn’t take long

[dadsbongos]

So I recently had a thought about Chilchuck x reader. While drinking, Chilchuck discovers that the reader is a complete lightweight who got drunk after 2 drinks. Not only that, but reader who is usually reserved and quiet becomes rather giggly, vocal, and the smallest bit flirty. Maybe he sees what happens when the reader becomes even more drunk and backs himself into a corner when they become very flirty and forward about their feelings for him? :3

642 words / warnings - you imply you want to bang chilchuck maybe? idk its a vague comment take it how you will ~~~

Saying he was excited to see beneath the veil of brooding silence would go against his entire modus operandi, so Chilchuck would never say it aloud.

Yet he cannot fight the quiet snicker leaving him as you drunkenly giggle over some terribly unfunny joke spat by a tipsy Marcille. Party morale nights were his favorite: free ale and free entertainment.

“You should join us more often!” Marcille cheers.

“Oh, no,” you drawl, staring into your emptied mug -- your first mug, might he add, “I’m not a big drinker.”

“Obviously,” Chilchuck cannot bite the remark before it slithers out.

“Hey!” you whine, swirling on your stool you glare at him. Cheek smushed against your fist, “I’m just not a fan…”

“Because it reveals your actually tolerable side?”

“Rude!”

Chilchuck might’ve been worried about hurting your feelings if you weren’t laughing quietly, eyes fluttering shut as you hum displeased at his jab. That infamous furrow in your brows coming to life as you mull over a response, soft scowl dragging soon after.

“I think you said something you didn’t mean to, Chilchuck…”

“Huh?”

Refocusing your stare on him, you lean forward, “You pretty much just said I’m cuter when I drink.”

“Is that how you took it?” 

“It’s what you meant.”

Rolling his eyes, albeit with a chest full of mirth and warm cheeks, “Right.”

“I hope it was, anyway,” you confess, smile widening regardless of his following shock.

“What do you mean by that?!” he has to grab the table, knuckles whitening, to prevent from slipping backwards.

Shrugging coyly, you dip further into his personal space. Smelling of beer and perfume, “What do you want it to mean, Chilchuck?”

“You’re not making any sense,” he mutters, bringing up his maizer for a distracting gulp. Clenching his eyes shut when he can still make out the pretty way your lashes crown your cheeks each blink.

That itself is a mistake because now the sugary tones of your voice are further heightened in his reddening ears,

“There’s no shame, Chilchuck, I think you’re plenty cute.”

“Excuse you?” he’s thankful none of your party members catch his exclamation, or the slam of his cup against the table.

“Sorry,” you blurt, a muted gasp preceding your slurring afterthought, “Not cute in a demeaning way. Cute like I think you’d look nice in my bed.”

His jaw clatters to the floor: no way this is the same combat mage he’s been working with for months. The one that could barely return Marcille’s small talk without clamming up. The one that dodges Laios’ every attempt at monster-education. The one that quietly slips out of Falin’s sight whenever a protection spell violating personal space is required. The one that outranks Toshiro in most unapproachable. The one with a most notorious resting frown on their face.

Chilchuck was convinced you didn’t even like him as a coworker until you eagerly sat beside him at the table instead of joining Namari.

“W- what…?”

“You’re really attractive, seriously,” you bumble through the syllables, nose wrinkling in a disarmingly adorable chuckle at yourself, “I sound silly, huh?”

Rather than assure you he hardly cares, or that he’ll silently forget this entire admission, Chilchuck nods curtly and buries his nose into his cup again, “Yep.”

“Sorry, Chilchuck,” voice a coo, you relax back until you’re now invading Laios’ space. Head against the blonde’s shoulder.

Chilchuck’s most horrifying realization is that he’s awfully jealous of Laios in that moment.

But instead of saying that, he snarks bitterly,

“Tell me again when you’re sober.”

“Okay!”

Such sincerity makes him roll his eyes again, and once again he’s full of fondness and affection despite it all. Part of him even mourns how wasted you are, knowing you’ll wake up tomorrow with a headache and no memory of this: returning to the sulky attack mage he barely talks to.

[k9wa]

𑣲 MINE, ALL MINE. ft. SATORU GOJO

⠀ — so when i die, which i must do,

⠀ OR

⠀ — it isn’t gojo’s death that kills you, not more so than the circumstances.

⚠︎ 236 spoilers, angst, gn reader, i miss him so much i’m literally spiralling, its been three months i actually can’t take it anymore, angst, Angst, maybe angst idk. wc 797

december 30th rolls around faster than you can hope to process.

nothing in your apartment has been moved even the slightest inch in the last week. 

two coffee cups still sit atop the kitchen counter, their contents long spoiled and beginning to smell.  one of them is far worse than the other due to the abundance of cream and sugar inside it. 

a large pair of black boots, leather with a pointed toe stay messily in the doorway— you’ve already memorised the steps to take not to trip over them and knock them out of place. 

the bed remains the same, blankets and pillows in the identical messy pattern they were on the morning of the 24th. (you haven’t even gone into the bedroom, actually. you don’t have the bravery. you sleep on the couch.)

…the place is empty. it’s full, what with the clutter and picture frames on the wall and furniture. but it’s empty. cold, even. like a hand reached in through the ceiling and grabbed any warmth, ripping it out without mercy and leaving you in the frigid remains.

he should be here, you keep thinking. this is his home too.

maybe you’re dramatic. maybe his death shouldn’t have turned you so utterly pathetic. maybe you should be able to get a semblance of a fucking grip and at least clean the apartment that is suffocating you with memories you can’t bare to discard because it’s all you have left.

but it isn’t satoru’s death that kills you, not more so than the circumstances. it’s how.

and it’s not that he went out in a blaze of glory, fighting against the strongest sorcerer of all time who he, momentarily, had backed into a corner. not that he died with a smile on his face, the adrenaline of combat surging through his veins because to his core he enjoyed it.

but that it was megumi who he had to go against. that he found it easy to fight him no holds barred because of the irreparable mark the boy’s father had left on his very soul when he himself was just a boy. why? why did he deserve such a fate? why was it placed upon him? it isn’t fair.

his death incapacitates you because of how sudden it is. with no warning, lured into a false sense of security, just to have the rug pulled out from under you. at only 29 years old, over ten years of companionship are reduced to nothing but what used to be.

you’ll soon forget how his hand feels in yours, the sound of his laugh, the tickling of his hair against your nose when he nuzzles your cheek. it’s nauseating just to think about, yet not being able to recall at all might just be more than you can handle.

it’s not satoru’s death that kills you, because everybody dies. and in your line of work, it’s always sooner rather than later. satoru, strongest or not, is—was human. his death would rear it’s head some day, that was something you both knew. 

but fuck you’ll curse every night to a god that doesn’t listen, and to the walls of a room that no longer feels like yours that you didn’t get more time.

he deserved to hit 30, to have what remained of his students crack jokes and call him old, and to watch him whine and run to you with complaints. he deserved to grow old enough to where he could finally be at peace with the death of suguru getou, or at least find peace within it enough to where it didn’t plague his life anymore— despite his insistent denial that it didn’t.

fuck what he deserved, damn it all to hell. you wanted him to do these things. wholly and perhaps even selfishly. 

you wanted him to grow old with you, 

you wanted him to stay by your side so you could stay by his. 

you wanted him to reach a point someday where jujutsu society no longer had the two of you bound in heavy chains like two puppeteers; despite satoru’s advocacy and determination to make it different. where you could live your life together free of its terror.

…you wanted to see him succeed at that so badly. to see the proud look on his face when he no longer had to watch more children be sent to death.

look how well that worked out, huh, satoru?

you open the front door to your apartment, feet weaving easily around the pair of shoes obstructing the walkway. you walk past the same two grey coffee mugs on the counter, past the half shut bedroom door, and sit on the couch. you lay down, still in the same clothes, the same shoes.

you spend the night wishing it was you who’d gone first. 

maybe tomorrow you will have the bravery. 

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[moonstruckme]

So, I know you don't commonly really write for steddie, and you don't have to write this if you don't wanna. But what about Like, reader graduates hawkins high and goes of to college (eddie is probably still held back for his last year???) And when she left she was more on the quite side, soft color pallet, kinda stariotypical pastel sunshine character. And she comes back for the summer and she's like, more punk-ish??? Like a few more piercings, and same kinda quite personality but kinda different aesthetic?

I think you could do something similar with poly!marauders as well, where same thing happens but it's over the summer between years?

Idk, you dont even have to write it, I just have a stupid soft spot for this weird trope/character arc. Make sure to take care of yourself and have a lovely day!!!!!

I'm happy to write for any characters on my list, thanks for requesting gorgeous! Hope you're having a lovely day and taking care of yourself as well <3

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 637 words

Steve and Eddie are scanning the crowd for you up until the very moment you come up to them. Even then, it takes Eddie a second to recognize you. 

“Hey,” you say, tentative. 

“Hey,” Steve says, stepping forward. “Shit, honey, come here.” 

You grin, some of the apprehension easing from your features as you hug him. 

“Shit,” Eddie agrees, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “Almost didn’t recognize you, sunshine.” 

Sunshine might not even be the best nickname for you now. When you’d left for college last fall, you’d looked like the rainbow had befriended you personally. All pastels, colorful sweaters and flowy little skirts. Now, it’s like you��ve been plucked from a graphic novel. Your clothes are dark down to the shoes, with ripped black tights under your shorts and lace-up combat boots that, frankly, Eddie thinks might get a little hot in the Indiana summer. He wonders if you’d be amenable to him calling you his little bat. Or witchling, maybe? He’ll have to workshop it. 

“You look so different.” Steve sounds positively flabbergasted, stepping back to take you in more fully. “I mean, not a bad different, I just—wow, it’s really…” Eddie snickers. In his opinion, you look far less like someone Steve Harrington would ordinarily date (the girl next door, preppy style, Nancy Wheeler clone) and more like someone he would (cool as fuck). Luckily for you, they both love you down to your ooey gooey core no matter how you present yourself. 

“It’s a new look, babe, and it’s fucking sick,” Eddie summarizes. “Is this what college does to people? Maybe I should come visit.” 

You roll your eyes at him, flushing faintly. Another pro of your new style: the pink of your face stands out ever-so-much-more brilliantly against your new dark palate. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart,” Eddie goes on, delighting in watching your color change. “I need you to start coming to my shows so we can lure in your crowd. You’re too fucking cool for us now.” 

Your shoulders start to come up around your ears, but Steve saves you, tucking you under his arm with a kiss to the top of your head. “She was always too cool for us,” he says. It’s the truth, and Eddie sends you a wink to make sure you know he knows it. “You look amazing, really. God, we’ve missed you so—is that a tattoo?”

Eddie all but lunges for you. “Where?” 

“Here,” Steve says, stretching the collar of your shirt over your shoulder, where an inky design sits starkly against your skin. “Shit, this is so cool.” Eddie jostles for space, head squishing between yours and Steve’s to get a better look. “It really works for you.” 

You smile bashfully. “Thanks.” 

“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, and you shiver pleasantly as his breath his your shoulder. “Actually, if I can get us to Steve’s in five minutes, would you top me right now? This is too fucking hot—oh, don’t look at me like that, Stevie boy. You know you like it too.” 

“I do,” Steve says, giving Eddie a look that’s probably aiming for stern but only hitting fond as he tries to coax your face from his chest. “It looks great honey, when did you get this?”

Your voice is characteristically quiet, but a bit proud, when you say, “That one’s from a couple months ago. I got my first last November, though.”

“Your first?” Eddie’s gobsmacked. “How many are there? Wait, no, don’t tell me.” He grabs you by the legs, hoisting you over his shoulder. “I wanna find ‘em.” 

“Eds, put me down!” You hiss in his ear, but your words are undercut by giggles. “Steve!”

“Sorry, but I’m kinda on board with this one,” Steve says with an apologetic shrug in your direction. He tosses Eddie the keys. 

[rottmntsimp]

Donnie x (gn) reader, where the reader is feeling particularly self concious? feeling as tho they don't contribute enough to the team due to not having mystic powers or not knowing how to fight, maybe they feel as tho they get in the way a lot? I know donnie isn't always great with feelings but I feel like he would relate to this problem and would know how to solve it in his own special way?

Much needed reassurance

Donnie x Insecure!Reader

TW: A bit of cursing (projecting cuz it's just smth i do when feeling a strong emotion lmao), using the lord's name in vain ( bro im atheist idk if this is a tw?), uh light jealousy (APRIL MAH QUEEN <33), mentions of stitching up cuts ig, light angst with fluff end <3 Oh and a pretty rushed ending lmao. Plus some slight ADHD projecting?? [Yes I got this req in September. Shh-] Thanks to @sleepytime-fics for title inspiration <3 /p

Donnie

You wince, letting out a hiss, as your cut stung in pain. Peeking out from in between your fingers, you see Donnie’s frown, not processing any of the words he rambled on to you. He let go of your hand, putting down the bandages, before moving onto your face to disinfect the scrapes along the side of your face, making you flinch in pain, listening to him chastise you for how careless you were.

“-I thought I’d told you to stay in corners. They can’t sneak up on you, if your back is against a wall.”

Sinking deeper into the mattress of the bed, you sigh, running a finger over the bandaging on your forearm, only for Donnie to slap your hand away. Rolling your eyes, you let him patch up your face, avoiding eye contact, because you knew as soon as you did, shit would hit the fan.

After what seemed like hours of nonstop admonishing and multiple rolls of bandages (which in all reality was only a few minutes), Donnie finally packs up the first aid kit, having finished patching you up. You stretch a little, before reaching for your phone, which lay on the far end of the mattress. Just as you were about to pick it up, a metal arm suddenly swipes it off of the sheets, holding it up.

“Hey-”

As you go to reach for the phone again, he just brings the phone higher up, farther out of your reach.

“So…” the mutant started, busying himself with putting supplies back into the first aid kit. “Leo informed me you, uh…got jumped-”

“Please, don’t remind me-” you sighed, the memory of being unable to defend yourself flashing behind your closed eyelids. Not only had Leo been struggling to take care of his share of the ninjas, he had to make sure you weren’t getting hurt too.

 Opening your eyes once more, you frown at the floor, listening to Donnie go on.

“Scoff,” Donnie scoffs, voicing his actions, “Well, if you let me finish, you would've heard me say ‘-you got jumped, are you feeling ok?’ It’s unlike you to get taken advantage of like this in combat.”

“Stop it,” You mumble, not wanting to hear about how you were unable to help, frustration rising as Donnie went on, not having heard you.

“I mean, it was just a couple of foot ninjas, and statistically speaking, you’ve done better before-”

“Donnie-” You frown, speaking a bit louder, but your words went unheard as Donnie’s rambling went on.

“I’m just thankful Nardo was there for you, don’t tell him I said that though-”

“Donnie!”

He freezes, facing you as his rambing comes to an abrupt end. Seeing the frown on your face as you shifted in your seat, your head held down, Donnie was riddled with guilt. “Were you,” he clears his throat, “Were you about to say something…?”

Silence.

That’s all he got in return, before soft mumbles could be heard, “It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve told me, it just won’t get in my head alright? I’m not a ninja, I’ve never gotten training-,” you muttered, as Donnie stopped what he was doing, focusing on your words- “Hell, I don’t even have a proper weapon!” you scoff, gesturing to Donnie’s tech bo, which lay messily on his desk, piles of unorganized blueprints and tech scattered around it. “Even April has one! April!” 

“Well, that is an issue can easily be resolved by simply paying a visit to the local sports store-”

Donnie’s words were cut short by the glare you gave him, as you went on. “But that makes perfect sense, since she’s just…so perfect,” you chuckled dryly, jealousy creeping into your voice, or maybe it was just self-pity.

Running a hand through your hair, you pause to take a deep breath, knowing you’ve already said too much; but fuck it, if you were going to get reprimanded for something out of your control, might as well let out some of those pent up feelings…right?

The only noise that could be heard was the soft whirring of the vents filtering air, and the sound of you guys’ breathing. The silence was eating you up from the inside, uneasiness hanging in the air. After a whole two minutes of silent torture, Donnie lets out a sigh, biting his tongue so that he doesn’t say anything he might regret, before finally speaking again.

“Where…where are you going with this?”

“Fucking christ, Donnie-” you snap, your head in your hands, as you let out a strong exhale. Looking up at him, you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize your voice, as a lump formed in your throat.

You mumbled under your breath, trying not to break down as tears of frustration formed in the corners of your eyes, your vision slowly going blurry. Why? The hell if you knew, all you could process was the fact that you were practically useless, and if that wasn’t enough to make you break down…

“I’m not as strong as you guys and I sure as hell don’t have any mystic powers,” you say, as a tear finally falls. One turns to two, and two turns to four, and before you know it, tears streamed silently down your face, as you tried to stop; but you both knew it was pointless.

Panic flashed behind his eyes as he noticed you crying. What was it you do when people cry? Talk to them? No, no, he was pretty sure you give them space.

“I always need at least two people out with me when I join you guys for patrol, and I always get hurt, and end up being more of a burden than a help…” You clear your throat, cursing at yourself as your voice cracks.

Once again, silence.

Looking down at the floor, you sniffled, using the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe your tears away. White floods your vision, looking up, you see one of Donnie’s mechanical spider arms holding a tissue out in front of you, his eyes averted to the side.

Nodding your thanks, you blow your nose, as quiet ensued once more. You both sat there, your minds occupied by your own racing thoughts respectively.

After what seemed like hours, Donnie spoke up, his voice soft, but firm, as though he were deep in thought, “I…apologize, for not realizing how you felt earlier. I should have been more observant, I should have been able to notice how you felt about all of this much earlier on… I’m sorry for being a terrible partner-”

“Donnie-” You just sigh, the adrenaline from earlier wearing off, as a wave of exhaustion washed over you. “I’m not calling you a bad partner, I’m just saying that…maybe I shouldn’t go out on missions with you guys anymore. I’ll just hold you all back, and-” 

“Hold us back?-” Donnie interrupts, his face going from that of understanding and thoughtful to utterly flabbergasted. Standing up from his seat on the mattress, he has a robotic arm shoot out of his battle shell and yank a chair over, as he took a seat across from your place on the mattress. He faced you, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, renewed confusion apparent, “You believe that you’re…holding us back?”

“...Well, yeah-”

“SCOFF! Never have I heard such malarkey- Oh Y/N, you are anything but deadweight!-”

You could only listen as he went on, giving up on trying to get your point across as he never gave you the chance to. Yet despite the affirmations, a nagging feeling stuck in the back of your mind, refusing to leave as he rambled on about your strengths, physically and intellectually.

His voice became nothing but a soft hum in the background, accompanying the buzz of the vents, as you spaced out. Why was he doing this? You aren’t worth the struggle, the effort… He’s always had to help you catch up, get up to speed on things. Homework, fights, hell- even simple things like staying on task, giving you something to do, to think about…

“-And just because you don't have mystic potential, doesn't mean you aren't a valuable asset to our group. There are plenty of other ways you make up for it..."

The nerve of this hypocrite; saying you’re useful while still in doubt of his own abilities.

"I mean," Donnie went on, putting a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him, "It's not like you're the only human in our little posse. April's our friend too, and she's just as important as the rest of us-"

"She doesn't count-" You snap, your voice raising to a higher volume. Donnie flinched, his hand retracting in shock. Wincing, you mumble a quiet apology, feeling a wave of disappointment and regret wash over you before going on.

"April's been training with you guys since she’s met you, she doesn't count…" You mumbled, trying to keep control of how loud you spoke. “She’s been there since the beginning, basically on you guys’ level. She’s known you all since you were young, grew up with you guys, trained with you guys, fights with you guys…all while kicking ass and looking good…all I do is stand in the back and cheer you guys on…”

“Oh my sweet Y/N,” Donnie sighs, looking up at you again. “What will it take for you to understand that moral support is better than no support whatsoever?” The pleading look in his eyes, the desperation in his voice for you to understand just how valuable you are didn’t go overlooked by you, as you just sighed in response.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again, darling. You are as valuable to our bunch as any of us are. Learning to fight takes time, time which you never gave yourself, which I’m gladly willing to change.

“And as for getting hurt…” Donnie put a hand on yours, making you look at him as he let himself smile, “I guess we’ll just have to start training.”

Taglist [ask if you want to be added!]:

@lemme-be-cringe-damnit @sleepytime-fics @ray-of-midnight-storm @hamthepan @charismakat

[foodtruckery]

Hi there! Im a bit new to ur blog but i just wanted to pop in to tell you how much i adore Combat Baby! Im actually super insane about it!! Idk why but the whole coat bits were just phenomenal and live in my brain forever now? Im already a sucker for older ford and mullet stan but oh boy now i cant stop picturing every version of stan stealing his brother's coat...for regular reasons and maybe also spicy reasons 👀 like a consensus i see is ford being a clothing sniffer but stan could also have a coat to sniff...as a treat...anyway sorry for rambling a bit here!! but please keep up the excellent work!

hello there, anon!! hey, if it makes you feel any better, i am also new to this blog so no worries there at all lol. ahh but thank you so much, it's so kind of you to come over here to say that!!

and okay hahaha let me ramble a little bit about the damn coat! cause i hadn't actually planned for like. ANY OF THAT to happen, so i am just thrilled to hear you enjoyed that random ass bit that ended up running away from me! cause like here's the thing. my main goal was just to get a few of ford's fucking layers off for the sake of the scene (fun fact: this whole scene originally started in a different room entirely and i said fuck that and moved them to the kitchen).

but then i figured the coat gave stan something to kinda consider while ford is faffing about, gave me a point to work on to keep driving at that "similar but different" narrative i was trying to lean into. but like....then the coat is there y'know?? i hadn't even included him asking for the thing in my first pass of that scene. but then it kinda felt like chekov's coat at that point and i couldn't not bring it back in.

but yes, i'm absolutely with you. i really do love the idea of stan like. taking comfort in being surrounded by something that smells like ford. especially if we're talking mullet stan and older ford here. and uhhhh. i had other like stuff i was gonna say, i think, but i kinda got carried away so.

hey! welcome to the blog! have a vaguely, hand wavey post-combat baby tidbit of stan jerking off in ford's coat:

This was stupid. Painfully, humiliatingly stupid. And if he got caught, Stan was pretty sure he'd just voluntarily disappear for another ten years rather than reckon with that particular flavor of mortification. 

Fuck, what did it say about him that the thought of Ford walking in and catching him beating off in nothing but his brother's stupid coat just made his dick twitch harder in his palm? 

Stan bit down on his lower lip and cast a furtive glance towards the door, but he didn't slow his fist any. He couldn't hear any movement outside the room, which suggested that Ford was still down in the basement or fucking around in the woods — he couldn't actually remember which one at the moment. He just knew that Ford had gone and occupied himself somewhere else and left his coat laying around, easy pickings. He hadn't even thought it through before he grabbed the thing and made himself scarce with it.

Vaguely, Stan reasoned that if Ford hadn't taken his coat, he probably wasn't wandering around outside in the fucking snow. But that meant he was probably somewhere inside still, and that really shouldn't make him as hot as it did. 

“Fucking hell,” he panted, fumbling with his free hand to tug the collar of the coat up to his nose. He breathed in the familiar-but-not smell of Ford and the memory of making embarrassing noises into the same material while he was railed on the kitchen table. 

Shuddering, Stan rolled his palm over the head of his dick and smeared precome down the shaft, muffling a moan in the jacket collar. It was heavy, a noticeable enough weight shifting against his bare skin that if he closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could almost imagine Ford kneeling behind him, pressed against his back and draping his arms over his shoulders. It would put his mouth right against that spot behind Stan's ear that had never fully shaken the phantom feeling of Ford's lips moving there. 

But what the fuck would he even say? Would he be pissed at Stan for taking his coat? Probably. Sneer that he shouldn't be surprised that a whore who can't keep his own clothes on would feel entitled to stealing his. He'd loom against his back and watch Stan fuck his own fist right up until he was twitching, nearly there, and then Ford would grab his wrist and tell him to stop because he didn't deserve to come. 

Stan tucked his chin to press closer to the material he was holding to his face and rocked his hips, as much to follow the steady pumping of his fist as to feel the coat shift against his thighs and around where his knees were pressed to the floor. Because he hadn't even managed to make it to the fucking bed once he'd gotten into the room. He'd just stripped in a hurry, leaving his own clothes thrown haphazardly to the side, and yanked on Ford's stupid space coat. 

If he were going for realistic, if Ford wandered upstairs and threw open the bedroom door and found Stan jerking off in the middle of the room, he probably wouldn't do anything at all. He'd get that brief, surprised little look on his face, eyebrows raising over the rim of his glasses and maybe, maybe part his lips just a little bit. 

And then, while Stan was stammering and trying to come up with an excuse or an apology or literally anything worth saying to make this look less like what it was, Ford would reset his expression and cross his arms and say something short like, “Well? Get on with it, then.” He would stand in the doorway, maybe lean there a bit, comfortable as you please, and watch Stan frantically try to finish the job like he was simply overseeing one of his less interesting experiments. 

Stan huffed against the coat and swallowed down a moan as he rubbed against the sensitive spot under the head of his dick. He was so close. And he needed to hurry the fuck up if he didn't actually want Ford to walk in on him. Cause that was all well and good while he was hot and shivering and chasing down an orgasm, but he would probably actually die if he got caught. Or maybe Ford would do him a favor and just kill him on the spot for it? 

Nosing the fold of the coat collar, Stan heard a quiet click in the room before the heater kicked on, thrumming away to keep the stupid cabin at a reasonable temperature for the middle of winter. Because the heat had been turned off, like Ford had suspected, and they'd managed for a few days with Stan chopping wood and putting the shack's little fireplace to use. But that was a miserable chore, and eventually Stan figured, fuck it, and gave the gas company a call. 

Turned out, telling the right sob story with an appropriately pathetic voice could get you an extension and get the heat back on until your genius brother figured out his nerd ass replacement for powering the shack. Stan didn't know what he meant by that, and he hadn't asked, because as long as they had some way of heating the place up, he was happy. 

But he did distinctly remember telling Ford he had gotten the gas turned back on for another couple weeks. The way he made that brief, surprised face and then, for a moment, nothing else at all. Long enough that Stan had rolled his eyes and turned to head back out of the room, because really, what the hell had he expected here? But then Ford had finally cleared his throat and said, awkward, like he'd only just realized he should, “Thank you, Stanley. Good work.” 

Stan shoved a mouthful of Ford's coat between his teeth and bucked jerkily when he came all over his fist, skin tingling and Ford's voice rolling around between his ears. 

“J-Jesus Christ, Stanley,” he panted to himself once he'd stopped whining and could spit out the edge of the coat — didn't taste nearly as good as it smelled. And, he realized with a groan, he'd managed to get jizz all over the sleeve. Fantastic. 

Once he caught his breath, he would get dressed, wipe the coat off as best he could, and put it back. Then he would pray to god that Ford didn't notice anything, wouldn’t see the splotchy attempts at cleaning it or smell Stan on it. And he would never touch the damn thing again. Really.

[kit-williams]

So I finished Space Marine 2

Space Marine 2 Spoilers and a post about a certain character

I also watched Bricky's review and I have to agree with him on the writing... it was close to being something more in a good way! Just moments of greatness but I was happy with the writing because it was campy in a good way

Hubby and I started laughing at the very end when it was a very cheesy victory screen but like it felt 100% Warhammery so over all I really liked it

I was bad at the combat and the soundmixing needs some work

I loved the characters they all felt like they could exist in the universe. Even Imurah and his final fantasy xiv ass final battle

GOD was this game GORGEOUS at times Like there were moments I just stood in awe of the scenes and the cinematics at the end were AMAZING

So also that last "Calgar" right after Imurah is defeated... Hubby and I don't think that is Calgar because 1) the voice is too deep 2) I dont think in this situation would call Titus a "Son of Guilliman" in this moment 3) That voice was right in his ear and Calgar was approaching out of hearing range

Conclusion from Hubby and I was it was probably the Emperor

So it ends in a really funny way with Titus saying his faith in brotherhood has been restored and then literally he comes face to face with LEANDROS

So I had been GUSHING to my husband and some of you about the Chaplain and his drip and just he was a bit of a hardass but a chaplain's job is to make sure there is cohesion within the chapter amongst his brothers he is both the keeper of the spiritual and mental wellbeing of his brothers so his job is important. SO like it was weird he was a hardass vs idk trying to reintegrate Titus smoothly.

So Like he did his job and did it WELL so I figured that maybe he was just concerned at this rogue ultramarine returning.

BUT NOPE I HAD BEEN

L U S T I N G

AFTER MOTHER FUCKING

LEANDROS

That broke me a little last night at like 12 midnight

So I'm gonna defend Leandros a bit... it has been 100 years and it feels more so that Leandros doesn't trust TITUS so his paranoia is directed at him. Though I find it funny that the man who was a fucking stickler for the CODEX became a chaplain because I take it as his roll is that he needs to be able to be flexiable and interpret things

So honestly I do want to know more about how Leandros grew during the 100 years Titus was away and just HOW he became a chaplain

[agent-cakeshroom]

ayo

My Gravity Falls obsession is slowly being raised from the dead. ON THAT NOTE Let's once again combine it with my BG3 obsession

RACES, CLASSES, WEAPONS, ETC!!!

I see the Stan twins as Elves (possibly high elves?? mostly because I want them to live long lmao) with Stanley being in a similar situation to Halsin with his physique being more broad and muscular compared to the regular Elf. Meanwhile Ford is outcast because of his six fingers(of course) and his obsession with darker magic.

On those notes! I think Ford would have been aiming to become a Wizard, but ended up a Warlock with Bill as his Patron. Maybe Bill is some super powerful devil with control over dreams, idk. He ends up in a situation similar to Wyll, but for different reasons. Wyll has an intense sense of Justice, while Ford has an insatiable desire for knowledge of things better left undisturbed. I also feel like he'd use a Quarterstaff, preferring to cast spells over physical fighting. Or possibly a Glaive to keep his distance while striking.

Stan however I see being a Barbarian or Fighter with underlying roguish skills. He'd also prefer using his fists over a weapon, despite carrying a Club or Mace. He'd have gloves much like the Gauntlets of Hill Giant Strength that he uses to empower his punches, and anytime he fails a roll for things like stealth, sleight of hand, or deception his first reaction is to just punch out the target.

Now the Pines Twins I see as half-elves, making them even closer than they would have been as either side of their community sees them as 'other'. Mabel is still a social butterfly, but she's not oblivious to how people see her as odd. She's determined to still be herself, but sees Dipper as the only person she could ever truly rely on. Besides being a half-elf, Dipper also has his constellation birthmark plastered across his forehead and is still insanely self-conscious.

Dipper is, of course, a Wizard. He's much like Ford with the unending need to know things, but he's more cautious. He knows where his boundaries are, and Mabel helps keep him aware of when he's delving into dangerous topics. He focuses more on healing spells than anything else at first, mostly because of his own innate clumsiness and his sister's recklessness. What kind of Wizard he's be, uuuuh I dunno yet lol

Mabel was hard for me to figure out for a while, but I like the idea of her being a Beast Tamer Ranger with her own Boar familiar aka Waddles. She's much more comfortable with Crossbows than any other weapon, but like Stan she's got an affinity for Clubs as well. There isn't an animal in existence that she won't try to befriend, so she's very thankful for Dipper's skill in healing magic.

I haven't thought much on What Soos would be, but I have considered Fiddleford and Wendy. Fiddleford I see not being a fighter at all, but rather a skilled Blacksmith and Alchemist. He's scrawny and small looking, but it's all wiry strength underneath. He's closest with Ford, although there's an odd tension after Fidds confronted Ford about Bill, but he gets along well with the whole Pines Pack. Wendy is, of course, a Rogue. She's a bit of an odd one though, with her weapon of choice being a Handaxe. She's a natural at stealth and deception, and after Stan takes her under his wing she quickly picks up on sleight of hand as well. She's not fond of direct combat, but is quick to defend the people she cares about of course.

[avelera]

Random thoughts on the D&D movie in no particular order:

I loved the jokes. All of them. All the stupid jokes. I was their target audience and they succeeded at making me cackle at dumb shit while my partner's soul left his body

The landscape shots were breathtaking and honestly made me tear up at the beauty in places. In the theater, I remember thinking, "Yeah, FUCK yeah, these guys understood the assignment!" Nine out of ten times, I think fantasy should be animated, because if you don't pour millions into the budget, the action looks like crummy LARPers wearing silly costumes in the woods. This movie understood that if you're doing live action fantasy, you owe your audience some damn beautiful landscape shots and damn did they deliver on some beautiful landscape shots.

(cut for spoilers)

I sincerely appreciated Holga and her husband being divorced but still amicable. I'm so tired of the trope of exes being evil or awful. They just seemed like two adults who wanted to love each other but the circumstances of being together doomed them from the start. It was played for laughs but it was just a moment I genuinely enjoyed as divorcee. I also loved her ex's new wife looking exactly like her, both for the gag, and for what it said about both of them being each other's type even if it didn't work out.

I also cackled like a hyena at Holga's halfling fetish while also finding it rather sweet and enjoyed imagining all the reasons why she might have that preference lol

As a basic Drizzt Do'Urden loving bitch, I squeed when I saw Icewind Dale on the map. Then I had a moment between that and the Underdark of wondering, "Am I gonna see him? Even in the distance? Am I going to see my first love, Drizzt Do'Urden??"

And then I realized: the Paladin. The Paladin is Drizzt. Only good person who came out of a nation destroyed by evil. Too good for this world, too pure, to the point of being sanctimonious but is also a hottie. Xenk is Drizzt.

Oh, I also squeed when I saw the Underdark.

I appreciated how knowledge of D&D improved certain story beats (like the gelatinous cube or the displacer beast) but wasn't required to enjoy the plot. That's how references should be done.

The most agonizingly cringe moment for me was when Holga was dying. Just. I appreciated the beat. It couldn't go any other way. They delivered on their set up with the tablet, the only question was ever, "Who besides his wife is going to get saved with it?" And it made perfect sense who it was. I'm glad they didn't try to pull a fast one. But the scene was like... 10 seconds too long of her dying for me to not roll my eyes. We know you're going to use the tablet on her, dipshit, please keep this moving.

BUT I think the reason they did it was to land a sincere moment with the daughter, and I appreciated that. I think the scene could have been improved by Holga being like, "Don't you fucking dare use that tablet on me!" and then smacking him when he did it anyway and then he'd have to explain that he set out to save his daughter's mother, not his wife, who has passed on, etc etc. but I'm not sure that would have been much better so maybe the drawn-out opera death scene and the sincerity was better in the end idk.

I KINDA wanted to see the actors as the players playing D&D BUT I know why they didn't and it was a wise choice, it undermines the drama too much to say it doesn't matter because it's a game. Maybe if instead they'd should the characters playing D&D in universe as normal humans? Idk

I thought there'd be more Xenk? I thought he'd be in the arena with them? A little bummed but I also loved his GM NPC energy.

The combat and camera work was great! Genuinely enjoyable and well made, I appreciated the artistry that went into it.

Loved the bardic distraction scene for truly capturing the chaos of a D&D party's attempt at breaking and entering

Loved the portals bit for truly capturing the strategy and planning that can go into a functioning D&D campaign's clever heist, even if I'm sure it would have taken 5 sessions to plot out IRL

Honestly, it was just a fun, solid film! It's been a while since I've seen such a fun, solid film! I would buy it and put it on in the background to just enjoy and not angst over it! It was worth the price of admission, it was faithful to the spirit of D&D instead of sneering at it the way the early 2000s one did, and I had a good time! It wasn't the highest of art but it would have been weird if it had been! I liked it a lot!

[pilferingapples]

Hello! I am catching up on les mis letters and I think the October 7(???) chapter mentions that none of the les amis are wearing ties. Can you tell me the significance of this? I know nothing of FRev ✌️

Sure! I assume you mean this line:

They reached the Quai Morland. Cravatless, hatless, breathless, soaked by the rain, with lightning in their eyes.

A quick Obligatory Mention that Les Mis is not set in the French Revolution, but in the post-Republic years of the early 19C ! Which is of course mostly relevant here because instead of imagining a bunch of sans culottes

(1842 black and white art of two sans culottes, rather pretty and idealized, by Emilé Wattier)

( a color picture of a sans culotte on the left and maybe far right, with a culottes-wearing drummer between them. All are wearing phrygian caps and republic cockades, and seem to be going off to fight together)

You're instead looking at a group more like this, Fashionwise:

Révolution de 1830 - Combat devant l'hôtel de ville , an idealized portrayal of revolutionaries in 1830, fighting outside the Hotel de VIlle, by Jean-Victor Schnetz (you can really zoom in on it at the Wiki page!) I wanted to bring that--again, highly idealized -- pic of 1830 in because it shows not just what people were wearing, more or less, but how that was being socially interpreted! You've got a lot of different hats here--top hat, workers' caps, bandanas, soldier's hats, etc. And IDK how much you know about fashion in this era, Nonny, but I bet you can start picking out a pattern to who's wearing what.

Especially the way that cravatlass people in workers' caps and bandanas and Phrygian caps are, by and large, turned away from the camera, or have their faces in shadow, while the composition leads us to a central, heroic figure--a student-type in obvious Fashionably Respectable clothes, with a great big cravat. There's even an older man in a nice top hat, with a saber, looking and gesturing to him! THIS is our Central Guy, a good bourgeois type the presumed viewer can feel safe with! Even the heroic worker (hat apparently missing, but he's in overalls, then as now a garment linked with labor) who's swooning into the central student's arms has his eyes shadowed , though at least we see most of his face.

You could write a whole paper on this painting alone, but the barebones relevance here: a bourgeois audience is going to have very different reactions to people who are visibly of Their Class than the scaaaaary, faceless Working Class. And in the real world where combat and crowds aren't as neat and shiny as this painting and the little details like shoes and socks and fit of the trousers and so on is going to get lost in the dust and distance, one of the easiest ways to read a man's social status is hats and cravats -- who's wearing them , what sort are they wearing, etc.

So on an immediate, practical, level , losing the hats and cravats is a bit like "rolling up your sleeves"-- ditching or loosening restrictive clothing before doing hard physical work. But on a social/symbolic level, it's a way of erasing differences of status and social standing between the barricade fighters. Hats gone, cravats gone, everyone soaked by rain and covered in mud, there's no easy distinction between Enjolras and Feuilly--or between a porter and a poet.

Which is all very egalitarian and symbolic and all--but to the sort of reader/ viewer who the painting up there is targeting, it's also very scary, because now there's no obvious sympathetic "leader", no easily-spotted reassuring figure to make them think it's all being organized by the Right Sort of people. It's just a scary,lower-class, undifferentiated mob.

Both these factors, the symbolic equality and the perceived mob nature of the uprising, are very relevant to the rebellion in Les Mis!

..and also it's just SUPER awkward to try and do hard physical work with a tight binding loop of fabric around your throat, or without losing most hats. The Struggle is Real, there.

[wealmostaneckbeard]

Critical Role Plays Lancer (hypothetical)

What if the core cast of Critical Role played the table top Mecha role playing game Lancer? Here are the CR cast members paired with the most entertaining mechs for their style of play:

Travis Willingham in a HORUS Balor

In the major D&D campaigns Travis has shown a preference for melee combatants who engage with dark unsavory powers. The Balor is a huge mech that eats other mechs using nanite swarms. Those same nanites probably contain the consciousness of freedom fighters-turned-terrorists-turned-into-a-hive mind. It's a perfect match! If the Balor is equipped with an A.I. called a Non-Human Person then there is a possibility that Travis's pilot-character could get eaten by his own mech!

Laura Bailey in a Harrison Armory Barbarossa

Laura apparently likes long-range damage dealers and typically those are very delicate and agile characters. It would be intriguing to see how she'd handle the Barbarossa. The Barbarossa is a tanky behemoth armed with the APOCALYPSE RAIL, an anti-warship weapon that requires the user to stay still in order to charge. It would be very interesting to see if the pilot that Laura creates would fire into a melee scrum and potentially kill her allies to achieve victory. She could play around with the anxiety her pilot would experience while screaming "Get Clear of the Blast! Firing!" Or she could role play as someone totally ruthless who justifies friendly fire with the fact that dead pilots can be flash-cloned and mechs can be salvaged.

Marisha Ray in an IPS-N Tortuga

Marisha Ray is from Kentucky. The Tortuga has Shotguns. The synergy is naturally there, you guys. Joking aside, the Tortuga would give Marisha a lot of role flexibility, she'd be able to defend her friends from enemy advance or she could push into the fray headfirst. If her pilot is tech-savvy, she could even engage in some cyberwarfare which the Tortuga is kind-of good at. Plus the Tortuga comes with a really boring A.I. that could act as the straight man for whatever jokes Marisha's character would come up with.

Talesin Jaffey in an SSC Mourning Cloak

Mr. Jaffey would probably go with a homebrewed mech if given the choice. Since I cannot imagine the Eldritch Mechanism he would craft, I am forced to prescribe him a Mourning Cloak. It is one of the few mechs capable of teleporting, which it doesn't do very precisely. There is a slight chance that Talesin might roll poorly while determining teleport distance, causing his pilot and mech to go... someplace else... and only reappear after the scene is over. He and the game master could have a lot of fun with that.

Liam O'Brien in a HORUS Goblin (warning: robo-codpiece, or maybe you like that kind of thing, IDK)

In tactical table top action, Liam shows a propensity for complexity. And nothing is more complex than the little Goblin which contains more electronics within it than is physically possible. The Goblin can hack allies to make their systems better, hack enemy systems to make them much worse, and even hack reality to make Things happen. Liam could reprise some of his favorite shticks like "I'm just a little guy, give me uppies," and "This goblin is named Nott and is my best friend."

Ashley Johnson in a Harrison Armory Genghis

In the first two major D&D campaigns Ashley played melee damage dealers and then branched out into a wildfire druid in the third. So a striker type mech that plays with fire would be consistent with her previous choices. Enter the Genghis, the carefree pyromaniacs choice of mechanized chassis. The mech builds up heat from weapons like it's Krakatoa flamethrower or a GMS Thermal Lance and then releases it in a blistering-blinding heat cloud. Incendiary damage continues burning victims until they douse themselves so Ashley can just set and forget. Finally I'd love to see what kind of pilot Ashley would come up with who would use a mech that's just as terrifying as the Balor.

Sam Riegel in an SSC Swallowtail (oh gods... please excuse the terrible mspaint job... hopefully this looks funny in a good way)

In D&D, Sam seems to like playing as unconventional back-line characters. He's been a tricky bard, a sneaky goblin/halfling rogue, and most recently a literal healbot with rage issues. So I think the Swallowtail would be a good fit for him. It's less of a mech and more of a high quality holographic movie studio on legs. It can make simulated stunt doubles of allies, use it's cameras to focus in such excruciating detail that invisible subjects are revealed, and even turn itself and everyone nearby invisible so they don't mess up the film shoot. Sam's pilot character could be some kind of propagandist or movie set manager who is infuriated by how messy actual warfare is.

Finally, Last but not least:

Mathew Mercer in an IPS-N Lancaster

I would be automatically fascinated by Mr. Mercer's interpretation of galactic human society in the year 5016u and the journey he would take his players on. But if he was a player then it would be interesting to see him controlling a Lancaster, the apex of mobile field repair platforms. Anything bad that can happen to a mech (damage, burning, hacked, immobilized) can be undone by the reliable Lancaster and it's limited pool of resources. I'm confident Mercer would be able to manage those resources wisely although it would be funny if he didn't. Role playing as his pilot, we'd get to see Matt do his best futuristic tow truck operator impression, which I think would be a very gratifying experience.

[megamanrecut]

I have a Mega Man AU where Roll was the prototype to the robot masters instead of Blues

and I remembered there was a similar sort of swap scenario in an episode of season two of recut where Rock and Proto swapped roles temporarily

So I thought I'd ask, what do you think would be different if Proto had swapped roles with Roll instead of Rock? I, for one, imagine proto just punching the robot masters instead of having the arm gadget that roll has.

Haha, really cool concept, your AU sounds awesome!

So for Recut, like if Roll was the older sister who became Wily's second-in-command, and Rock and Proto were twins? Lots of thoughts on this (this would be really fun to draw too~ like one of those style swaps I did awhile back, with Red Bomber Roll and Jumpsuit/Utility Arm Proto or whatever)

So Roll is still Roll, but like even cooler? So more of a 'cool badass' with the effortless charisma canon!Proto has, rather than a 'hotheaded badass' that canon!Roll is, yet also with a personal beef against Dr. Light that caused the original rift for her to defect (Maybe she too got bored?)

Meanwhile the sibling rivalry would be much more intense between Rock and Proto, with Proto especially feeling like he's been passed over. Not sure if this would make Proto more tempted to join his older sister, or if like canon!Roll he just blindly hates Wily and his second-in-command too much to ever consider this lol. But I think things would be very bitter between him and Rock at times

As for Proto's weapon, idk all the Light siblings are inventors like their father to an extent; Proto definitely likes hand-to-hand combat so punching definitely makes sense, I could still see him maybe making his own blaster like Roll did too, or maybe he does his own thing where he specializes in combat vehicles (like mini fighter jets, or a skycycle equipped with laser canons!)

Since Roll is the older sister, she'd definitely try to coax her younger brothers to join Wily, but also strive to get them to get along with each other (which they'd probably hate lol, though would also grudgingly think she is pretty cool for a bad guy)

So basically the sibling drama would still mostly be between Rock and Proto hahaha

But the real question is...would Roll have the scarf, or would that still be Proto's thing? Hmmm

Thanks for the question!

[streetkid-named-desire]

@ouroboros-hideout tagged me for WIP whenever!

I'm tagging @wanderingaldecaldo @luvwich @ghostoffuturespast @genocidalfetus

I am working on editing some old VP, taking some new stuff. Waiting for a certain pose pack to finish so I can take preview pics for it 😏 here are some refs to tease you

I finished chapter 11 and need to edit/revise but my brain just hasn't been in the mood for it.

Here's a chapter 11 excerpt. You can get a hint about who Rivka is if you search for the first line in all caps in the Hanukkah fic

Cheri didn't look up from her computer when she saw V. He was such a frequent flyer for so long she knew him by the sound of his footsteps. She merely motioned to the device on the counter, prompting him to jack in. V thought about Bea, how she felt and how she smelled, how she looked, the color of her hair, the softness of her legs, the shape of her breasts. A beeping sounded in his head and four headshots were displayed on his retinal field. Angel and Skye were who usually showed up. They ran into each other at Riot a few months after Evelyn's murder where he explained himself. They flirted and parted on good terms. Two new faces were displayed underneath the other two portraits. One was a beautiful Hispanic woman with gold eyes and purple hair, and the other was someone that looked almost exactly like Bea. But even in the small frame, he could tell it wasn't really her. He selected that photo and a name popped up underneath, "Rivka". "Rivka just started. I'm sure you'll like her," Cheri said. Professional politeness, she didn't actually care how V felt. He stashed his pistol and knife in a locker before passing through a scanner. He walked to booth 5 and gently touched the glass door. It slid open without a sound and he stepped into the dimly lit room.

Got more of the collab smut outline done that I'll put under the cut. I hope to learn a lot from the person I'm working with (I admire their writing a lot also sorry idk if you wanted it public or not yet) and write better smut in the future

Starts coming back from a gig, Bea has a slash on her shoulder, V has a minor GSW in his hip

V got impatient and rushed in, outnumbered but both dispatched all. However, they weren't supposed to kill the target.

Start in the weapons room, bickering and bandaging each other up, each being rough to make it hurt. Bea's bloodlust dips in and wipes up his blood with her finger (you could have her sticking her fingers in his mouth, maybe with a little mean quip)

V does the same with her slash but jerks her face towards his with his fingers inside her mouth

Heal their wounds, go to the couch to relax and debrief. She’s in a tank top, pants, and still wearing shoes, he’s just in his boxers. Start nitpicking and blaming each other. V says something about her combat skills like she relies on her smartweapon too much and it would have gone a lot smoother.

She punches him (where?) not hard enough to do damage but hard enough to make her point, she stands up they exchange a certain look where they’re not actually mad and need to release the rest of the tension and adrenaline before they can go to sleep

She starts quizzing him about guns (I can research this) and every answer he gets wrong she slaps him which just makes him hard, visible bulge, etc

He gets snippy and she throws him to the floor and steps on his bare chest, painful but hot, leaves a print, quips about like watching his back, how he’d die without her, how she could move her boot up to his neck and kill him now. She puts more of her weight on him and he’s starting to struggle to breathe a little.

Grabs her legs and flip her back, cracking her into the table and scraping her side. He is on her fast and pulls her shirt up to lick the blood

She slams her palm into the GSW making him roll off her. While he’s recovering she gets undressed and orders him to sit against the couch where she then kneels on the couch to ride his face BUT he’s a complete teasing little shit which she loves but pretends to hate it and he’s just enjoying/shoving in her face how much he can control her

That riles her up and she drags him to the bedroom and throws him on the bed to do the same, her teeth DEFINITELY scrape his dick a dangerous amount and he’s really fucking annoyed and also genuinely a little scared

[demonstars]

oh youre right, i could totally see dsmp as a dnd campaign with the rp and bloopers are nat 1s while rolling a dice. what classes would u think dteam be?

HI ANONIE this will be so long bear with me. i love dnd i love it so much i think about it every day of my life

like youre so right with the nat 1 analogy i just know sapnap could say the most awesome action ever and be hit by one and having their dm just describe in detail how badly he fucked up. Anyway, based on lore

i think dream would either have a warlock or a druid. with the first, THE DRAMA. i feel like him getting the book of revival and making a literal deal with the devil to revive people an becoming bent into learning everything about that power, its limits and how it can be used is soooo warlock also he would love to fuck with them dark magics and his character would be so fucking dramatic and i'm all here for it. also like this is so cdream

Unlike bookish wizards, warlocks supplement their magic with some facility at hand-to-hand combat. They are comfortable in light armor and know how to use simple weapons.

for the second i just think necromancer druids are just so fucking COOL and dream would adore to have animals on his side IS HIS DISNEY PRINCESS SWAG also he can still have magic nd stuff just less powerful -> maybe more focus on fighting? maybe even be the healer of their group

sapnap would obviously be the tank he'd love to have the physical prowess and buff and i just think he'd find it just fun to do the battle scenes — so like obviously barbarian and fighter are options. but i also think Maybe paladin? csapnap is just so loyal and is so faithful. he'd taje the blade oath but also he'd never get as good as other members of it <- about to throw up. OR PALADIN OF THE SHIELD. thinking outside of the dsmp and onto another character i think he'd have so much fun with is of course a ranger, also it would make for such awesome lore for druid dream + ranger sapnap growing up together in the forest. My dreamnappies they're family....

finally. george astounds me. a part of me says ranger too because of the stealth and the way he kind of slips into the foreground to get what he wants on the dsmp, but i also don't know if that's something he'd enjoy ... a While ago i shared more thoughts about dteamDnd but i can't find them and honestlu i just Don't Know... my gut says sorcerer or artificer tho. But idk if he'd have Fun. Maybe bard for the cunt of it all ... honestly if you have any idea .. cgeorge is a rogue tho no doubt of it

[enbyleighlines]

Leigh plays Tellius prt 20

I'm nearly finished part 1, so it's time for me to look at my Dawn Brigade babies and see how they're progressing. As before, I put an upwards green arrow next to any stat that is above their average at their current level, a downwards red arrow to any stat that is below their average, and a yellow star to any stat that is equal to their average.

Let's go!

Let's start with Micaiah! She's... a fairly average Micaiah. Somehow her speed is lower than average, and she's known for not having great speed in the first place. Oh, well. She still one-shots armored units, and that's all I really need her to do.

Sothe has only gotten two level ups so far, and yet he's already behind on speed and luck. His magic is higher than average, though! I know Sothe falls behind no matter what you do, so I'm not too worried. He's just here to steal stuff and give support bonuses to Micaiah.

I rolled a good Nolan, though! Somehow, he has already capped his magic? Strange. Then again, his cap is really low. Otherwise, he seems to be doing well. I hope this continues in part 3. I'm going to be counting on you, Nolan! Don't let me down.

I had put a lot of hope into Meg turning out good (I even gave her a sword named Hope in hopes that the universe might grant me a good Meg), but unfortunately, I wasn't so lucky. Sorry, Meg. It looks like you're going to be benched.

Yay, Ilyana! Ignore the mountain of random items I gave to her. I am thinking ahead so that she can deliver the goods to the Greil Mercs for me in part 3. That Spirit Dust has Soren's name on it, after all. And Reyson will need that extra movement.

In any case, it's a bit of a shame that Ilyana is doing so well, since I don't really plan on using her much after part 1 is over. By the time she reunites with the Greil Mercs, she'll be just a little too far behind in terms of her level.

Aran is doing pretty well. He's a bit behind in skill, but above average in strength and defense, which is what really matters. Having a high-defense Aran will help me a lot in part 3.

Also, idk if I've said this before, but I'm actually kind of fond of Aran as a character. His personality is literally just the ¯_(ツ)_/¯ shrug emoticon. Hence why I gave him a weapon named "Oh Bother..." I imagine him just muttering that to himself every time he enters into combat with an enemy unit.

Hey, a good Edward! With higher than average defense, to boot. Between him, Nolan, and Aran, maybe I will be able to survive part 3.

Meanwhile, Leonardo is a bit of a mixed bag. He's got good strength, but man is he squishy. This man is the definition of a glass canon. I cannot allow any enemy to attack him, because chances are, they will double him, and he will die immediately.

Jill! I was worried about Jill because she wasn't doing so good at the beginning, but now look at her! I put a lot of effort into feeding her exp (esp on the prison break map) and look how it paid off. She's above or equal to her average in every stat. I still wish that I could have gotten her some transfer bonuses, but overall, she's not doing bad at all.

Last is Laura. Oh, poor Laura. Look at all those red arrows. But whatever. At least she's good for giving Aran those nice support bonuses.

And that's it! That's how my Dawn Brigade is faring. Overall, it's not the worst. I mean, of course it could be better, but as is, I'm not complaining. And I am happy that I've already managed to get Nolan, Jill, Leonardo, and Edward to tier 2.

Next map is the finale of part 1. I am very excited to finally put an end to Jarod.

[apainintheasgardiansoul]

Nah, I don't think he needs to be defended. After all, fictional characters are not everyone's cup of tea.

But then, if you wonder why is he sweeping here, maybe you should also ask the people who keep him pretty much always top 5 in the official Naruto polls throughout the years.

In my case, I started watching Naruto waay after the show first aired. The impression I got from Kakashi at that time was of him being a savage moody dude who gave zero fucks and also was sarcastic, plus, that spiky hair gave me punk vibes.

But he's the kind of character that you start liking once you realize he's kinda relatable, especially when you grow up and become a victim of the system. (x)

"But he's always wearing a mask." Well, he has to because he's a ninja and that's what ninjas actually did to keep their identity hidden at all costs? Honestly idk how other characters in the story managed to survive and avoid being a target wearing those bright colors in the middle of the forest while their faces can be recognized in plain sight, lol.

Speaking of ninja stuff, the man is well known for being a skilled tactician able to hold a one-on-one combat while just using a damn kunai, that shit is insane.

The dude ain't a nobody.. in the manga/anime you often see Kakashi being acknowledged through the five lands, even by his adversaries (He's basically Mr. Worldwide) The mask is not the only thing that makes him mysterious (eventually we get to see his face) but also his backstory, which turns out to be a tragic one and that's where you realize why he behaves the way he does.

He was the gifted arrogant kid who ended up being a burnout with unhealthy coping mechanisms after losing his family, accidentally killing his friend (an event that gave him ptsd and permanent nightmares), losing his other teammate during the war while still being a kid and whose last will was to give him his eye (that red eye with powers) since kakashi was badly injured after trying to protect him.

Then he becomes this lethal killing "Machine" with no feelings who avoided any kind of human interaction cause he felt kinda cursed and only wanted to die, but that wish wasn't granted (yet) and he ends up becoming a teacher, which wasn't actually his thing but he tried to do his best. Funny thing, his students (lovingly called gremlins by some fans) are no ordinary kids since two of them are reincarnations of overpowered ancient aliens and he has to make sure these kids don't get killed or, in fact, end up killing each other. All this while he's still fighting his own inner demons, existencial crisis and depression.

If u wanna talk about just looks, sure there are silver/white haired characters with more elaborated designs, but the fact that the guy can show emotions with just one eye is just 👌🏻😆

Then u have the "rolled up sleeves and skull t-shirt"

the slutty fingerless gloves and sitting like a whore thingy..

His inner sailor scout dramatically showing during battle:

Not to mention his favorite way of attacking opponents:

Men in a uniform with a scar in one eye and also a tattoo might be a cliché but it never fails. He could have been given the 'Mappa treatment' like Gojo and show up like this:

But I like my man looking deranged

There's nothing like preferring comfy clothes after a long day of work and we know that

Kakashi could be your sugar daddy since he's actually a millionaire. The man went through all military/ninja ranks and did lots of missions which obviously they get well paid for. However, he's not the kind of greedy guy with lust for power, he actually kinda likes to avoid responsibilities (he never aspired to become hokage/president, he just accepted because of Naruto and Obito and, while being at that position, he made considerable changes that benefited the people and improved the village) In fact, he keeps things simple as he doesn't like to be adressed with honorary titles.

There's also part of the Naruto fandom who accuse Kakashi of being a "bootlicker" but that's not the case since he also stood up for what he considered was right and never sided with corrupted characters like Danzou, the council and others, which made him a trust-worthy person who actually listened to those around him. Of course, he's not perfect and we can see his flaws and mistakes and that's why he's also considered one of Naruto's best written characters. As for the wet dog thing... It's mostly fanon pov just like the little meow meow term, but he has dogs and he cares for them (look at their tiny cute clothes, lol.)

Also that misconception of the character being a hopeless mess... He's disciplined and organized, and also a good cook.

Bonus: It is canon that Kakashi is packin' 🍆

He didn't have a canon partner or relationship, which gives fans the opportunity to play and write/draw him as aro or even ace.

He can also be straight, gay, bi, or poly depending on the mood of the show 😆:

Or maybe he just retired and married Gai:

But he ain't a perv like some people in the notes are saying.. Kakashi definitely knows about consent:

He reads a book of which we never get to know the full content, but it is assumed to be smut, perhaps fluffy stuff with a touch of kinky, who knows. And thank God NO ONE here in tumblr likes reading such thing or even any other kind of fanfiction.

The scene of him being given spoilers by his students during the test is just to show that goofy silly side of him as he can also be sometimes a troll, a prankster, a smooth talker or a badass who ain't fucking around.

He goes out in public with the book, but never reads or shows the content to his students or kids, which is the equivalent of listening to 18+ asmr with headphones in the bus or reading ao3 in a cafe silently on your own.

Who wouldn't want to escape reality through books after being crucified, stayed in coma, die and come back to life, also see your long lost childhood dead friend come back to life and then have a panick attack about it and trying not to lose your sanity and stay positive?

He just wants to take some rest, leave him alone.

He's for many the og, meme material, first anime crush, relatable character, minecraft character design inspo, he's, he's..

Okay, Naruto fans. Please explain how the one character that keeps sweeping in your polls has pathetic wet dog energy, and I'm talking about Kakashi. Now, I must confess the only episode of Naruto I watched was Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura trying to steal bells from Kakashi. They managed to steal the bells only because Naruto stole his book and read the last few pages, which it was heavily insinuated that the book was erotica and spoiled the ending for Kakashi, and he had a full-on meltdown. So again, pathetic wet dog energy. Is it the mask, and you guys find him all mysterious or something? Or is he actually competent at his job, and I just got a bad episode? I would like to know because he's on the same level as Gojo with me. It's just like a generic anime white-haired dude. So, I would genuinely like to understand why you guys love him so much

Defend Your Blurbo #5

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans.

Most of you should at least have some idea who Kakashi is. I know there are many opinions about my various photo choices because I've gone through several. After all, people keep sending me different ones.

But I think the anon is forgetting about the scar and the red Sharingan eye which I think a lot of people find attractive

So, Naruto fandom defend your blorbo