#on a re-read rn!!!!

[waterlilyvioletfog]

I’m in love with her btw

[aq2003]

christopher eccleston do you know that i would die for you (1 2)

[tzarrz]

i listen to fog lake too much

[ssametanass]

does this count?

[fedexgenshin]

I couldn't sleep this morning so I drew the beloved gays, 10/10 way to spend my time

[kindlythevoid]

I have read Fellowship of the Ring more times than I have cared to keep count and every time I read Boromir’s, well, possession for lack of a better word, I have read it in fear, in discomfort, in horror, indifferently.

This was, I think, the first time I read it in pity. I looked at all the plans Boromir was making, how he would save his beloved city, how obstinate he was in his belief that the men of Minas Tirith would not be corrupted when wielding the Ring against Sauron —and I felt sad. He’s waving his hands and hollering and part of him is desperate just for the Ring, of course he is, he’s been traveling beside it with no hope for months, but he’s also desperate for hope. He’s desperate for a chance to save his people, save his brother, save his city.

Moreover, every time he calls out the Elves or the Wizards, you have to remember that he doesn’t know them. All he knows is that he traveled almost a full year to get their advice and they send him on, in his eyes, a hopeless venture. The one hope they give him is Aragorn, who promises to return and help save Minas Tirith with him, but even that all changes once Gandalf dies. They come to Lothlorien and of course it’s a welcome break, but they cannot, or maybe in Boromir’s eyes will not, help his people. And once they leave, Aragorn assumes his role as leader of the Fellowship in Gandalf’s stead more permanently and suddenly even that one, brief, uncertain hope of his is gone. Aragorn will follow Frodo. And it’s almost certain that Frodo will not go to Minas Tirith.

So is it any wonder, really, that tired, desperate, hopeless Boromir, out of his realm, out of his depth, already hanging by a thread when he joins the Fellowship and having been gnawed on by the Ring for months upon months afterwards, finally snaps once it’s clear that he will have to return home empty-handed and almost certain that somewhere far away Sauron is capturing the Ring and killing the companions that he had bonded with? Of course part of the Ring is making him lust for power, but it’s also his only “reliable” (in his mind) source of hope left to save his city.

And so I read Boromir’s (intelligent and thought out, mind you) raving and I don’t feel scared for Frodo, not after reading it so many times and knowing what ultimately happens, but sorrow for Boromir.

[letternotekisses]

You huff - a soft exhale that puffs your chest out like a hen with its feathers ruffled - and Roadhog's head swivels to face you, the blank stitching of his mask staring you straight down in a way that usually had you silenced within seconds. Most of the time you'd back down, eager to have him reward you for your good behaviour when you would submit and roll over onto your back like the good little bitch you were.

But today isn’t one of those days, and Mako reckons you'll be coming on soon, seeing as you were practically fighting with his belt to get at his cock underneath, pawing and palming at his heavy balls through his boxers. He oughta teach you a lesson or two. Or knock you up, considering how badly you wanted to take him raw.

You pull him free from his underwear, and he throbs hotly in your palm, your fingers unable to meet around the sheer size of it. Roadhog grunts, an raspy wheeze leaving his chest that made the rippling layer of fat and muscle on his chest tense sporadically.

"That all f'me?" He rumbles, tugging down your panties to shove a thick finger between your legs. His meaty digit drags through your folds to feel the mess you'd made while his thumb busies with circling your clit, "How sweet."

Your cheeks grow warm when you realise just how wet you were, but you don't dwell on the matter when Roadhog suddenly sinks his ring finger into your cunt and you clench needily around it, the stretch pleasant and filling you better than your own fingers ever could manage. His free hand smooths over your exposed belly, the weathered skin of his palms coming to cup your soft tits. You almost double over, moaning softly, but Mako is always there to catch you, whether you'd been a brat or not.

"Roadie," You whine, and he cocks his head at the usage of his nickname, content with watching you squirm on his fingers while you try to spit out your words. "C'mon and fuck me already."

You squeal when he gives your ass a harsh smack, the flesh there would definitely be sore come tomorrow, but he was already palming the flesh to soothe it and you were already too horny to think when he barked a laugh and rasped down at you.

"You want me t'break that little pussy?" Mako grunts harshly, reminding you painfully of the sheer size difference between you as he scissors you open, your thighs shaking like leaves from his fingers alone. Your slick is coating your thighs and his hand, but he won't fuck you until he thinks you're ready. He gives your ass an appreciative pat, gentler than before as he murmurs into your ear gruffly. "You'll take what I give ya."

Your squirming only invites him to stroke rougher circles over your clit, over and over in a torturous pace until he makes you finish with a gush of fluid that coats his fingers in a slick sheen. Your brain is like soup when he pulls his thick digits free and uses your cum as lubricant to slick up his erection, the tip slapping wetly against his stomach when he pauses to manhandle you into his expansive lap.

Mako's cock twitches against your soft tummy, the weight of it alone intimidating, and you never get used to seeing how deep it appears to go. He could very easily hold you up with his own strength, but he preferred the fun in watching you convince yourself that you could take it all in one go.

Your fingers guide the fat tip through your folds deftly, and Roadhog reaches down to spread your cunt wider, nudging himself against your hole with an eager wheeze. Massive hands then move to grab your hips hungrily, kneading the doughy flesh as you sink downwards.

It's a snug fit. You feel every throb, every twitch of him as he bullies himself inside your wet cunt, and your walls cling to him, sucking him in deeper like they'd missed him. He twitches harshly, dribbling pre-cum inside your warm pussy.

"Oh, God." You breathe, feeling like he'd just buried himself deep inside your stomach, but you were nothing if not a little spitfire that was determined to take his thick fucking cock all the way to the hilt.

Roadie only rasped, laughing at your breathy attempts while he mused over how he was going to fold you in half later, how he was going to sink himself balls deep and breed your cunt until you whine and claw at the meat of his back. Until you grew fat and full with his cum.

He'd dump your birth control too, while he was at it. With his plans for you, he'd doubt you'd need it (or want it) anymore.

[spookygibberish]

Dogstock are typical of what are often deemed the ‘evil’ races in many other fantasy works. They were created by some higher force to be slaves, they are carnivorous by nature, they resemble animals other than human in dentition and build. They growl and bite and walk behind.

The Uhasr (a dogstock culture) are descendants of such slave-infantry that was abandoned when the empire that used them to capture the steppes decided the land wasn’t so profitable after all, and more pressing matters drew their attention elsewhere. Like tools left spent on the ground, the unneeded, excess dogstock were left to survive on their own in Hochkiskuph. The native peoples, of course, did not welcome them any more, or see them any less as oppressors when the hand released the lead. To the Hochkiskuph peoples, the Uhasr are a predatory ghost, an echo that consumes them even in absentia. To the Uhasr, one human is much like another, differing in number and equipment, but never in essence. Uhasr are a species of wild animal with a human face. Humans are prey on two legs. Humans smoke and poison uncovered dens on principle, Uhasr abduct and consume men and women and children all the same.

A common trend I have noticed in media which aims to humanize monsters, is that it often relies on passivity. Humanity is contingent upon kindness. The monster that is A Person only so long as they are a harmless thing at heart, something which can be understood and befriended. Their violence is reluctant, their hearts noble. Grace is a concession to the dominated. Only the toothless beast, declawed and pinioned and caged, is one which has earned its personhood. The ontological enemy supersedes the ontological man.

[perplexingly]

Not sure if I ever mentioned it before but I really like Tolkien’s works 🥺

[riddlemethis-or-riddlemethat]

okay guys. hear me out. picture me this. bear with me now.

Tom Riddle. Frankentein AU.

HEAR ME OUT NOW

a Tom whose greatest fear of death manifests in an obsession with uncovering the secret to life. who creates a monster and is too caught up with his own greatness to treat The Monster as he should be obliged to as its creator. who treats it callously.

HEAR ME OUT.

obviously it wouldn't be the same as the actual Frankenstein book, with Tom Riddle being who he is, BUT the potential there... it's delicious and it's consuming me

i might turn this into a long ass fic....

[thatswhatsushesaid]

reflecting on some of the posts i've seen dropped in the jgy tags over the last week, i've come to the conclusion that some of you just asked chatgpt to summarize the plot or character relationships for you, and decided that was as good as reading the book. why form your own coherent opinions when you can just ask the robot that lives in your phone to do it for you?

[jackass-jones]

Come back home when you have some sense

You can throw your life away just not at my expense

You’re not the son I raised

[rosekasa]

idk if this is too niche but friends who remind you to take a break from depressing content are friends that are absolutely irreplaceable

[dallasgallant]

Steve and Dally are the two who sleep on the Curtis couch most often. They’re also the two Pony doesn’t entirely understand next to Darry, he has a chance to get to as they’re over so often. Which just leads me to the image of him walking into the living room “I’m ignoring you.” 😭 and they’re just so confused “ok good I’m going to sleep now?”

Do I love playing up the beef? Yeah. At the same time it’s like Steve is mildly annoyed he’s dragged along everywhere and Dally really doesn’t have a problem with him it’s more pony is intimidated as he doesn’t romanticize dally’s bad traits like he does for the rest of the gang. Darry is just 14 year old brain equates yelling/nagging = hates me.

[thegoatsongs]

Dracula with Jonathan and Van Helsing with Seward is like

Old Man sucks Young Man's blood (to renew his own life) vs Young Man sucks Old Man's blood (to save the other's life)

Jonathan feverishly raves about "poison and blood" in the aftermath, and Van Helsing says Seward had sucked "the poison of the gangrene".

There are contrasts in their power dynamics. Dracula is always dominant the one in control of "my good friend Jonathan" at the castle, until his fateful day. Dracula loudly claims him twice "...belongs to me!" "...is mine!".

Contrast with Van Helsing and "my good friend John" in Amsterdam. Seward was also away from home with a man older and with power over him. But there was never abuse of that power imbalance, but from that blood-sucking a bond was created until they met again as equals.

[panicatthecourtx]

Has anyone who plays infinity nikki made the connection of Leonid(Shining Nikki) to the Wishing One? Probably, but I was staring at his statue during the shooting star event like 🤔🤔.