#old man getting old :(

[greseadraws]

finished my second bg3 run and was wondering if withers just goes back to sleep again after he verbally smites the dead three

[cryptocism]

"just as I did, in 1983."

you'd never know my favourite parts of the show are the fucked up insane bits when my first instinct is to draw the cheesiest thing imaginable

[trashgyrl]

[allskywalkerswhine]

in fics where luke gets plopped into the prequels i want every jedi within ten metres of him to think hes the weirdest jedi theyve ever seen. he has negative lightsaber form. he doesnt know what a kata is. he handstands when he meditates. his solution to sith is to try and have a chat. hes a political radical who keeps suggesting revolution. you ask him what the jedi code is and he says "kindness and compassion and helping those in need :) ". you ask how he used the force like that and he says some shit about how you are a luminous being limited only by your mind. the councils authority is just a suggestion. he is somehow the new favourite of both qui gon and yoda

[kitschky]

if i got a single office music dance experience my suffering at work would all be worth it !! (everyone go watch severance now, for me, your comrade)

[keferon]

Don’t mind me I just like to see him go bananas about cartoonish Autobot rules

Maaan…..if Prowl was in tfp he would spontaneously combust at least once a day

[n4rval]

i lied. here's a bonus.

[edwardbonnets]

rook: *obvious flirting* emmrich: 😲😲😲🤯🤯🤯😳😳😳??????????

bonus:

[boombaux]

dick picking jason up from a random address like a divorced mother picking her child up from school

[mischievous-thunder]

It's a special skill set, Logan. Wade wants you to make good use of it over and over again!

[consultingfujoshi]

inconsolable over irving in this episode. no nuance here, irving is straight up suicidal in this episode. essentially placing him in the same circumstances in which mark chose to become severed - suffering unimaginable heartbreak and seeing switching his brain off as the only viable option for coping with it - and giving him that same choice at surface level to be relieved of it - except it's NOT the same at all, because innies don't get to compartmentalise, they ARE the compartmentalisation, if they choose to switch themselves off, they DIE. the illusion of choice here. irving can either suffer mindless torture of monotony every day with the knowledge that the man he loves is dead and never coming back, or he can fucking DIE. and he genuinely sees that as a viable option. as his only way out of this pain. because even if he did make it out, if he somehow against all odds gained his freedom in the outside world, he'd still have nothing. burt would not be waiting for him.

"I should be happy he's happy" and the way he doesn't even feel entitled to his grief?? like he has no right to be feeling the pain he's feeling right now? innie indoctrination goes so hard he's incapable of seeing that the very fact he's grieving innie burt, a hypothetical life they could have had together, is proof that he's just as real as his outie counterpart! he has just as much right to that life as anyone! like, NO, irv! you have been wronged, you have been so deeply wronged, they made you capable of feeling these things and forming this relationship and falling in love and then systematically removed every tool you could have had to pursue it, and then effectively handed you a length of rope and made you feel like the only empowerment you can find is in the act of hanging yourself with it.

"if he's gone and I'm gone, then somehow, we'll be together" broke me because he really has been so beaten down by this point at the hopelessness of it all, realising that there is no scenario in which he can be with the man he loves, that his only hope at finding any triumph or meaning in this is to die along with burt. at least in chasing him into oblivion, he will have made the one choice he could have to follow his heart. and that as a queer-centric narrative specifically is actually devastating.

SUCH an insane and heavy thing to come straight out of the gate with in the season premier. immediately cementing irving as one of the most masterfully complex characters I've ever seen - i can only hope his arc this season is in finding strength in the act of defiance at last and making good on his promise to burn lumon to the ground for what they've put him through. to carry that grief and channel it into bringing the system that has wronged you down. I believe in the power of queer rage and vengeance!!!!

[livingfandomly]

Walker? Sir? Mr. Actor?

Jokes aside. That look? That anger? Percy finally having enough and being pissed off with a God who doesn’t care about his children, insulted his friends, ruined their quest and wants to start an unnecessary war where he has nothing to lose? But most importantly… Percy literally QUAKING with unchecked rage for a God who came in the way of him saving his mom?

[namespara]

If Cazador ever commented on Astarions companions (instead of just ignoring them which ultimately leads to his downfall) he'd be pretty flabbergasted to see the durge he definitly has heard of innit

[trashgyrl]

no reason to be doing all this btw

[anotherlikeyou]

Ah shit, here we go again

[shotmrmiller]

your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.

you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.

apparently it wasn't.

after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)

you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.

his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.

then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.

he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.

"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.

praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?

"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."

that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.

but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.

"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."

you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.

"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"

he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.

"bloody fuckin' 'ell."

ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.

he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.

"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."

your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.

something you want him to keep hitting.

"exactly like i'd thought."

everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.

(inside o' ya, make you mine-)

(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)

(-ll to myself-)

you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.

(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)

if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.