#my list of shame

[wishchip106]

i’m looking at those certain tiktok xmen fans

[cait-sith]

Day 18: Candy

[amazingdeadfish]

Day One: Casual Kidnapping

[anetherealpoetess]

obsessed with charlie vickers's commitment to the idea that sauron wanted galadriel as his assistant--as if the dark lord of mordor believed the key to ultimate dominion over middle-earth was convincing the most chaotic of elves to somehow manage his shadow empire's day-to-day operations. 'if only galadriel could handle my travel arrangements, manage my digital platforms, and keep track of my appointments, maybe then my dominion would be truly unstoppable??'

maybe charlie is right though? maybe sauron is out there building his fortress and dreaming of the day galadriel shows up to streamline his evil agenda? maybe in sauron's control freak mind organizing files and arranging documents is romantic and so these are highly intimate moments: the two of them coordinating the perfect invasion and going over supply chain logistics while he teases her about her chaotic attempts at record-keeping (because you know his records are perfect and hers are a complete disaster.)

you can almost imagine him wistfully slipping the one ring over his wedding finger and thinking that if she would just join him, manage his calendar, book his dragon flights, rent his horse drawn carts, and manage the evil fortress guest list, they could be unstoppable--just a dark lord and his assistant forever bound by middle-earth's most nefarious to-do list.

[malk1ns]

january 5 @ hurricanes, 4-3 OT loss

i cannot believe the season is halfway done. i can't believe i've actually written a fic for every single game, for forty-one games. that's crazy. thanks so much to everyone reading along, the comments and tags you leave really do encourage me to keep going—it's hard to work on a big project like this with no positive reinforcement! i love and appreciate you all <3

playing carolina might be boring AF but at least we got this picture of of it, hey? geno is so much bigger than sid it's truly ridiculous.

Sid isn’t very good at hiding what he’s feeling.

Zhenya knows about the narrative, how a Sidney Crosby quote is a lot of words but when you go back and actually read what he said it’s a whole bunch of nothing. That’s probably true; Zhenya doesn’t make a habit of looking up his teammates’ media spots. Answering his own questions and sitting for interviews is enough exposure to reporters, thank you very much.

But long before Zhenya and Sid spoke the same language, Zhenya was able to read Sid like a book.

Sid’s not subtle. When he wants something from you, you’ll know.

And when they’re getting ready to go out for overtime at the Lenovo Center, when Sid ducks his head and looks up at Zhenya through his eyelashes, Zhenya knows exactly what he wants.

It’s nice to catch up with Staalsy after they play the Hurricanes; frankly, it’s Zhenya’s favorite part about facing this damn team. Jordy’s waiting for them outside the visitor’s locker room after Sid is finally done with his cooldown, and they duck down a quiet hallway to chat. Partway through the conversation, Zhenya slings an arm over Sid’s shoulders, casual as anything, and smothers a smirk when Sid not-so-subtly tucks himself into Zhenya’s side.

Jordy doesn’t notice anything. He’s always been oblivious. It’s something Zhenya always appreciated about him. Kris gives them a hairy eyeball, but after so many years he knows when to feign ignorance, even if he’s far more observant than Jordy ever was.

Sid behaves himself on the way back to Pittsburgh. He keeps his hands to himself on the plane, sticking his earbuds in and zoning out on whatever podcast series he’s hooked on this month.

Zhenya taps his way through a few rounds of solitaire, nudging Sid with his knee when the plane begins its descent. When they’re deboarding and Sid makes to grab for his stuff, Zhenya bullies him out of the way, pulling both their bags down from the overhead compartment and slinging them over his shoulders.

Sid goes pink.

Their drive back to Sewickley is quiet, Zhenya navigating the dark streets carefully with one hand spread over Sid’s thigh. Sid’s parents are still in town, will be through the upcoming homestand, so Zhenya takes them up the hills back to his place, pulling into the driveway and throwing Sid’s Range Rover in park.

He crowds behind Sid as they walk into the house, dropping their bags as soon as they clear the threshold so he can get his hands on Sid’s hips, steering him to the staircase over Sid’s protests that they need another protein shake before bed.

(He refrains from making the obvious joke.)

Sid drops his feigned reluctance as soon as they get to the bedroom, turning in Zhenya’s arms and wrapping his arms around Zhenya’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

The first time Sid kissed Zhenya, it took both of them by surprise. It was Zhenya’s second year in the league, and not even any sort of special occasion—they’d just beaten Boston in TD Garden, a hard-won shootout on the first half of a back-to-back with travel in the slog leading up to their too-short Christmas break. He and Sid both had to do media, courtesy of Geno’s two goals and Sid’s three points, and they were the last ones in the locker room after they finally escaped to do their cooldown and get showered.

Zhenya was fumbling with his tie when Sid crossed the room, got up on his toes, and smeared a kiss across Zhenya’s mouth.

They didn’t talk about it for months. There were games to win, after all, and playoffs to push for. They were both determined to have a better showing than they had last season. It wasn’t until after they had to watch the Red Wings raise the Stanley Cup in their own building, after locker clean-out and the last media of the season, that Sid showed up at Zhenya’s door with a determined look on his face.

Their second kiss hadn’t been any more artful than the first. It didn’t take them long to get good at it, though.

Really good. They’ve taken breaks throughout the years, arguments and ego and fear of the future sending one or both of them stomping away from the relationship, and Zhenya’s seen plenty of girls stumble out of dark corners with Sid looking dazed with swollen mouths. He kisses like the world is ending, all-consuming and intense, and Zhenya’s more than happy to fall into it every time.

Sid doesn’t want to just kiss tonight, though. His hand sneaks down and squeezes at Zhenya’s dick through his dress pants, and Zhenya cants his hips forward, letting Sid grope him.

“Fuuuck,” Sid groans, pulling back and looking down between them. Zhenya follows his gaze.

Sid’s not a small guy. He’s broad, with thick arms and legs and big, capable hands, clever fingers that are adept at taking Zhenya apart. His hand on Zhenya’s dick where it’s straining at the fabric, though, looks almost small.

“Jesus,” Sid mutters, stroking a thumb over the head. Zhenya shivers as his dick twitches.

They’re clumsy as they undress, the late hour and a long, heavy game slowing their reflexes, but eventually their clothes are in a pile at the foot of the bed and Zhenya has Sid stretched out on the mattress, pinning his hands over his head with one hand around both wrists.

Sid takes a deep breath, testing Zhenya’s grip. Zhenya watches his throat bob as he swallows and tightens his thighs where they’re around Sid’s hips.

“You’re stay put,” he says to Sid, half an order and half a question, and he can see his words register, leaching into Sid’s body and dropping all the tension from his muscles.

Sid’s hard between them already, dick curving up toward his belly button and damp at the head, and when Zhenya curls his hand around it Sid gasps, craning his chin down so he can look.

Sid’s hands might be big compared to a regular guy, but Zhenya’s put his to shame, and Sid’s dick looks small in his grasp.

Zhenya knows that turns Sid’s crank, even though he’ll never admit to it. Hockey players are all the same, after all, and none of them are going to own up to getting off on their dick looking small, but Zhenya’s never needed Sid to actually say anything to know what he wants.

Sid likes how much bigger Zhenya is than him. He likes the way Zhenya’s hands span his waist like it’s dainty, the way he fits under Zhenya’s arm like Zhenya’s girlfriends used to.

He especially likes Zhenya’s dick.

Zhenya lifts up a little and shifts so that Sid can spread his legs, settling between them and rubbing his dick over Sid’s balls and shaft. Sid props himself up on his elbows, mouth open as he pants for air, hitching his hips up to meet Zhenya’s movements. 

Zhenya spares a moment for regret that they don’t have time to fuck properly until the homestand is over. Sid’s so tight, even after all these years, and sinking into him is the closest to a religious experience that Zhenya’s ever had.

He props his forearms on either side of Sid’s head, leaning down so he’s completely covering Sid’s body, pressing their chests together as he mouths at Sid’s neck. Sid always leaks so much, like the second he gets even a little worked up he’s ready to bust, which means they don’t need lube when they do this.

When they were younger, they used to get off like this every spare minute they had, sneaking off to spare rooms and rubbing up against each other until they came. It only took one instance of having to misappropriate a fancy hand towel in Billy Guerin’s guest bathroom for Zhenya to start carrying around a handful of tissues in his back pocket for quick clean-ups.

They usually take their time now, luxuriating in the privacy of their own homes and the improved technique that comes with experience, but sometimes Zhenya likes to make it quick and dirty, likes to get Sid panting and begging for dick underneath him.

Zhenya can’t give it to him tonight. The waiting will make it better when they have time, though.

Sid’s getting close. His thighs are trembling where they’re locked around Zhenya’s waist, and he’s tossing his head back and forth, little uh-uh-uhs pushing from his chest as he arches his back.

Zhenya pushes himself up a little and rests his hand on Sid’s neck, curling his fingers and pressing his thumb to the hinge of Sid’s jaw. Not much, not enough to actually do anything, but his hand looks enormous at Sid’s throat, and when he increases pressure the tiniest bit, Sid gasps and comes with a shout.

He’s still shivering through his orgasm when Zhenya drags his dick over Sid’s groin, smearing come into his pubic hair, and groans as he finishes on Sid’s stomach.

“Damn,” he says, rolling off to one side. Sid tucks them together, yanking Zhenya’s arm until his hand is splayed low over Sid’s belly.

It’s sticky and kind of gross. Zhenya rubs their come into Sid’s skin, ignoring Sid’s protest.

His hand really does look huge on Sid’s body. Normally he doesn’t think too much about it; he’s aware of how tall he is, how big his dick is, and those facts on their own don’t do much for him. He’s happy to go along with what Sid wants—seeing Sid get off on something is what gets him hottest.

Sid’s a grower, though, and when he’s soft Zhenya can cover his entire groin with his palm.

Sid grunts as Zhenya fondles him, wincing and over-sensitive, but Zhenya ignores it, rolling Sid’s balls in his fingers and palming his soft member.

Yeah, he sees the appeal.

[beautifulstorms]

t/v tango is objectively one of the better fds of the season in that it's memorable and cunty and works for them, but it's also such a direct comparison to older ice dance (pre-2022) that it just makes me sad. the only top team tango fd we've had in the entire quad and it has maybe fifteen seconds of tango/foxtrot hold combined and the dancers directly performing to the audience instead of to each other. judges and fans are eating it up and i get it and the current state of ice dance is obviously not t/v's fault, but like... what are we doing here man

[whatudottu]

Sketchy sequel to this little thing I drew on an 8 hour plane trip without references because no wifi :(

Shockwave's logic tree of 'only breakdown's brave/stupid enough to call him breastie' and 'breakdown saying "hey breastie" is in reference to him' meets Breakdown's rarely seen mischievous side like a downball piffed against a wall-

[crescenthistory]

i am a romantic prongsfoot and remlily shipper to the day i die because it’s too much fun to play around with these puppets to put any limits on myself and not be a chaotic multishipper

[shenmaomaos]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

tagged by my beloved super sweet and talented moots bex @baekhyunnybyun 🩷 liz @yunogf 🩷 and rhi @honeydewtual 🩷

go here to see your top 10 of 2024, share them and tag others

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tagging: @hoforwonho @myungjaehyun @renjunniez @pookiez @dazzlingkai @donghyuckkies @kyufeed @seokryus @soonhoonsol @antonleez @96z

[merlinfromberlin]

Imagine. TFP but there was an ancient spirit/deity living in the Star Sabre.

Bee, after the fight at the Omega Lock, can't remember anything that happened after picking up the Star Sabre for the first time. His memories only set back in once he pulls Optimus back up onto the platform.

None of the Autobots discuss it either. The only thing they told him is that he killed Megatron. But they refuse to elaborate beyond "you grabbed the star sabre, jumped down, stabbed Megatron & saved Optimus".

Bee himself is not even aware of the hole in his memories at first. But then Raf starts asking questions about the fight and Bee always answers with the same sentence. "You know... it was a real doozie, but I got... lucky, I guess."

The first time Ratchet hears Bee say that, he flinches violently and then pretends like that is absolutely normal behaviour. No, you did not just see him crunch his incredibly fragile medical equipment. It's always looked like this.

Optimus also starts acting odd towards Bee. He can't quite look him in the eye but keeps observing him from a distance. They've also stopped their philosophical discussions (yes; I'm going to insert my headcanon that Optimus and Bee watch ATLA together and then use it as a jumping off point to discuss Cybertronian philosophy and culture into everything).

None of the bots would admit it, but all of them are doing their best to keep Bee confined to the base. He is barely out on patrol anymore. It gets even worse once they are back on Cybertron because now he doesn't even get out to pick up Raf anymore. He's always kept busy indoors. Not even Smokescreen wants to sneak out with him.

Still, no one wants to answer his questions about what happened at the OmegaLock. He tries to corner Smokescreen and Bulkhead about it because they are the weakest link when it comes to resisting Bee, his shenanigans and questions, but neither of them budge.

And then Bee starts noticing other signs of change. Sometimes, his optics will suddenly just burn brighter. Bright enough to illuminate dark rooms or reflect on metal surfaces around him. Sometimes he is no longer sure that they're really blue.

Then, one night, he has a dream. He is lying somewhere, prone on his belly, unable to move and incredibly tired. It's hard to comprehend anything that's going on. His surroundings are bathed in blue (?) light and he can't see him, but he can feel Optimus being there, incredibly tense as he stands in between Bee and something that's so old it should have dissolved into dust eons ago. Optimus and the thing are talking but he can only gauge snippets of their conversations before something soothes him back into deep recharge. Last thing he hears is Optimus' yelling his name.

Then he wakes up at the entrance of their base, Optimus and Ratchet waiting for him as he returns from a drive. He has no clue where he went. Or why they look at him as if he was a ghost. Until he checks his internal chronometer and realises that the equivalent of a week has passed.

And when he asks what's going on, Optimus just pulls him into a hug and holds him for a long time, not saying anything.

[freneticfloetry]

from the bottom of my heart

So it turns out the presentation was so extra it was too large to upload to Slides, and the best I could do was export it as a video. His ass literally wouldn't fit on Google.

Either way, please enjoy this visual ode to TK Strand (and yes, his bottom).

And please note that this was created for shits, giggles, and @hoko-onchi-writes, and is in no way intended to praise or condemn any pitching or catching preference. All opinions are my own. In other words, don't @ me, it's not that serious.

[frogaroundandfindout]

Deathstroke shows up as Roy talks to Jade and says that Roy is no Nightwing (titans #22)

[pynkhues]

I recently read an article in which Quentin Tarantino stated that fewer movie stars exist as a result of "Marvel movies in Hollywood." I think Jennifer Aniston made a similar argument before saying that there are no longer any movie stars. I'm not sure what that means. I can think of a lot of movie stars right now, such as Zendaya, Timothee Chalamet, and Zoey Deutch etc. what do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this and Quentin's comments.

QuillBot's

Months ago, when you sent me this ask, anon, I wrote out a really long reply and as soon as I hit post, my laptop crashed and ate the answer, and I was so annoyed at myself for not saving my reply, that I couldn't bring myself to try and re-write an answer. I'm really sorry for that, especially because I think this is such an interesting ask (or well, two asks, because I think the death of the movie star and the impact Marvel's had on the broader concept of a movie star, are kinda two different things).

I've been thinking about it a bit again recently though, particularly as the Oscar race gears up, and Jacob Elordi and Charles Melton''s respective stars are rising in an industry currently desperate to find the new young Hollywood male 'talent', and I've been thinking about it again because honestly?

I agree with Jennifer Aniston, I think the movie star is dead.

We are a long, long way from Golden Age Hollywood where actors like Cary Grant and Marilyn Monroe could captivate a public imagination in a way that translated to big box office effect, after all. Hell, we're even out of New Hollywood, an era dominated by names like Al Pacino, Jack Nicholson, and Jane Fonda, and the Blockbuster era with Tom Cruise, Sylvester Stallone and Harrison Ford.

My original reply went into a lot of the different reasoning as to why this is (like with many things, I don't think there's any one reason for it), in particular how the advent of streaming has changed our relationship with films and TV shows, how the saturation of the market has diluted the staying power of celebrities, how social media and the perceived accessibility of celebrities removes personal mystique which in turn removes intrigue and increases a sense of entitlement, and the fact that so many people having stopped going to the cinema means that the experiential element of seeing a film in a setting larger than life has been diminished.

I think call out culture plays a role too, with any actor on the rise being torn down by tweets they made eight, nine or ten years ago impacting how their star rises, I think the dismantling of the studio system (which is a good thing!) also harmed actors in the long run as studios stopped investing the same resources into making and training stars (they used to be able to sing, dance and act! Now some can barely even act!), and I think, of course, the rise of prestige TV changed the industry substantially (after all, movie stars were movie stars - they traditionally did not, and would not, do TV, which created a clear class structure in terms of screen-based storytelling).

And yeah, I think the language shift from film and TV to content has done irrepairable damage to the artistry of filmmaking and the consideration of a movie star as an actor at the top of their field instead of an actor with the most Insta followers or YouTube subscribers (after all, if everything's content, isn't it the same thing? [no lol]).

Which I guess is kind of where Quentin Tarantino's argument comes in, right? What he's saying is that Marvel's made it so that the IP - the content itself - is the star, not the actor, and I'd say he's probably right with that.

Think of it this way - back in the New Hollywood/Blockbuster era, Harrison Ford was the movie star - he was leading new franchises left-right-and-centre between Star Wars and Indiana Jones, sci fi epics like Blade Runner, leading action thrillers like Patriot Games, The Fugitive and Clear and Present Danger and getting nominated for Oscars for Witness.

He was a movie star in every sense of the word because you could hinge a film - one with a new concept, not just remakes or sequels - on him and be virtually guaranteed a success. He was what sold the tickets, the director just hopefully had to make something good enough people would leave the cinema glad they saw.

Tarantino's argument is the Marvel model - - hell, even the new Star Wars properties, turned the franchise into the star, for better or worse, which means original films can't compete because nobody knows the IP. Back when Harrison Ford was at the top of his game, his name was what helped original films including smaller, standalone works like Witness find an audience, but the studios have changed that. Capitalism has changed that.

Properties with existing audiences and deep pockets for merch were prioritised, only now those franchises are faltering and you've got a generation trained that 'cinematic events' are reserved for blockbusters in established universes, instead of taking a risk on a new film because you know you love an actor who's in it.

Do I think we could go back?

Maybe, but probably not.

I think the place we are now in the history of cinema / TV / 'content' means you can't make a movie star anymore because I think the industry is simply so different that no actor can break through in the same way that even Leonardo DiCaprio could 30 years ago. That industry doesn't exist anymore, actors aren't guaranteed draws (Bones and All proved that for Timothee Chalamet, and Wonka I think could go a similar way), or they have to heavily rely on other industries to become household names which I think dilutes them as a pure 'movie star' (Zendaya's a great example of this - I like her a lot, but how many movies has she even been in? They built her career up in peripheral industries long before they tried to sell her as a movie star, and frankly, I'd question her even as a leading actress yet given she's typically only either been in ensemble casts or clear supporting).

It's a whole new world, and yeah, I think the movie star is dead.

[bloodmoonlich]

Key lore about me is that on my birthday a few years ago I was in a van with some friends of convenience who I worked with for a few months. They insisted I have the aux even though I tried to brush them off a few times because I didn't think anyone else would like my music taste. Eventually I gave in because it was getting awkward. When my music came on, a guy I liked at the time publicly mocked my music taste as being "girly" and "lame". And it's taken me years to start shedding my shame for loving pop music.

[thatssomegoodsoup]

INTRODUCTION

credit for dividers: @thecutestgrotto

LINKS TO MY MASTERLISTS (HC/fic Collections)

POPPY PLAYTIME X READER HC MASTERLIST

RAINBOW FRIENDS X READER + ROBLOX X READER HC MASTERLIST

TREVOR HENDERSON X READER HC MASTERLIST

DR NOWHERE X READER HC MASTERLIST

FNAF X READER HC MASTERLIST

LETHAL COMPANY X READER HC MASTERLIST

HAPPY TREE FRIENDS X READER HC MASTERLIST

SLASHERS X READER HC MASTERLIST

POKEMON X READER HC MASTERLIST

DNI

If you're 13 or under. My blog is specifically 14-18+, as I write both NSFW fics and wholesome fics. If you're a minor be on the lookout for the RED content warning tags I put above almost all of my posts.

If you're a pr0shipper or support pr0shipping

If you're pro-MAP or identify as a MAP

If you are a z00phile or pro-z00phile

BOUNDARIES

Please @ me or credit me if you take inspiration from a post of mine, or write a fic involving my headcanons! I'd hate to miss out on a full fledged story that you wrote involving my headcanons.

I will not write for miscarriages. Can't believe I had to add this but yea. I got a miscarriage request.

TAGS I USE

#x reader

#fanfiction

#headcanon

#monsterfucker / #monster fucker

#monster love

#tw nsfw

WHAT I WRITE FOR

I will write for literally any fandom. You want King Kong? I gotchu. You want Drayton Sawyer, Freddy Krueger, Chucky, Charles Lee Ray, Nathaniel (Wishmaster)? I gotchu. Katz, Schwick, Space Chicken? Smile Room, Cartoon Dog, Siren Head? Alt! Gabriel, Six, Mark Heathcliff? Timothy Wright, Slenderman, Jeff the Killer? SCP 096, Dr.Clef, Dr.Kondraki, SCP 682? Champion Geeta? Henry Emily, Rockstar Chica, Toy Bonnie? Literally anything else? I gotchu!

I prefer writing for ADULT CHARACTERS. I will not write for any character under the age of 15-16, and I will NOT write any sexual fics involving minors; romantic or platonic fics only.

I will not write for literal animals (I.e lopunny, gardevoir, non-sentient animals, non-intelligent animals, animals that cannot understand consent which is like 200% of all real world animals)

WHAT I AM HERE FOR

To write fics (HCs)

To vibe

To eat soup

[wildstar25]

What physical part(s) of Arsay does her partners find the most attractive! Is it the same for all partners or does it differ between them?

(also optional bonus ask of what part(s) of/about Arsay generally do they love the most, physical or not!)

Meanwhile, if you were to ask the same of Arsay: