#silly sexy sneakers

[beebeetheclown]

Jeremy has got his funky sneakers again! Lollll! Silly Willy! Jeremy let me see your sneaker collection please!

And his outfit! Eek! Ahh! It’s giving me this: 🧸

[sciderman]

Tips from a trans masc that passes pretty damn well even though I haven’t started transitioning and can’t bind.

1. Walk like you carry your manhood between your legs! If you pretend like you got a “package” while you walk (if you don’t have a packer which I don’t) it’ll make your stride look way more masc. it’s the shuttle things people.(don’t overdo it though)

2. Looking for Jeans? Levi’s 505 pant cut. I personally think this cut is great for people who don’t want their wide hips to be so obvious. Thigh room and baggy legs. I should be a 32x33 but I always go for 34x34 for the best baggy effect. Got like three pairs of these.

3. Tired of wearing huge shirts? Sometimes smaller is better. When buying a shirt make sure it’s cropped above your hips so it doesn’t hug your figure, the shirt must fall straight from the pit (make sure it’s lose around the torso to hide the waist), keep sleeves of shirt short and tight (makes arms look bigger and muscular)

4. I know putting weight on one leg is much more comfortable but sacrifices need to be made. Keep weight equal on both feet, and keep them apart by about a foot in distance (Evens out the curve of your hips and makes it a little less noticeable). To be more comfortable I like to sway back and forth if I get tired of standing like that for too long.

5. DARK CLOTHES CREATE LESS SHADOWS, BETTER AT HIDING THE CURVES!

6. I know you want to slouch. Don’t do it. It’s not worth the terrible posture. We men got to stand up straight and maximize our height.

I could keep going but I’ll cut it short at the MOST achievable stuff.

you’re forgetting one vital step and that’s to listen to this song every morning at breakfast

you can skip all the other steps if you can’t remember them it’s fine (I’ll forgive you, king)

[transnats]

Piquerism - E. Williams

Dont buy TLOU | Daily Click

Kinks/Warnings: Knife play, proofread + edited by yours truly, canon-adjacent setting, fingering/clit stimulation, pet names (babe, baby), slight degrading, Ellie is a wee mean

🎙️ Xan Says: Excited to announce my very first writing collab with my lovely hot cute sexy wife @joliettes! Very, very, very excited about this woooo! Everyone cheered! And guess what? She also made the banner that’s so very good so give her some flowers! Everyone should also thank Xan and the silly lil guy up in his head cause this would’ve never been possible without him. 🙂‍↕️ Anyways! Lemme shut up now. 😭😭

W/C: 943

Your eyes tend to linger a little too long whenever she’s using her knife. And of course it’s hot that she’s protecting you and whatnot but.. it’s something else entirely. It recently aroused in you — the way her fingers made quick work of twirling her knife, even how it looks in her hands exudes something deep inside of you.

After some time of running, you’d found a small and quaint place in the woods to rest at for a while. She starts a campfire before she takes a seat on the ground with a small huff.

She’s cleaning her knife of blood and shining it with a small rag she kept in her pocket. As usual, your eyes look hungrily at her. A carnal desire to feel the cool steel of the blade against your skin arises. The idea has your face and body hot, followed by your mind becoming clouded with desire.

The action prompts you to rub your thighs together, in need already. “You good?” She asks, giving you a confused look. You shake your head with a tight smile. “No yeah, I’m fine.” Trying to also not look at her tattooed, veiny arm was already so hard, but that knife in her hands was making you super wet, to where you could feel your underwear soaking up the more you sat still.

The way you’d been feeling right now was damn near unbearable, so in an attempt to distract yourself from it, you stand up and your legs move on their own. The animals in the forest created a nice hum. A cacophony of their sounds fill your ears as the soft chill from the fall breeze washes over your skin.

What you didn’t know is that you made her feel some type of way —  all of the hungry looks you were giving got her caught up in the moment. The walk you’re on doesn’t distract you enough. Moreover, she clouded your mind heavily and wouldn’t leave.

Your brain could’ve turned to mush. You get lost in your thoughts once you’ve figured that this was useless. So, you begin walking back towards the glow of the fire, only to find Ellie walking over to you. Leaves crunch under her beat up canvas sneakers as she comes closer. “Ellie? What’s this about?” You murmur. She scoffs. “Don’t play dumb. I saw how you were looking at me while I was cleaning my knife,” she retrieved the knife from her pocket. “Admit it; you’re all worked up over this switchblade.” Her voice carries some sort of taunting. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You lie, inching towards a thick willow tree. She rolls her eyes as she follows behind you. Before you know it, shes right on your back. You, of course weren’t gonna let her win that easily — that wouldn’t have been very fun, would it? Looking back at her, you attempt to fight back. You gave her lots of pushback until it drove her crazy. You pushed her away but shes right back where she was. Her body was strong against yours as she smashed your face gently against the trees bark, your back facing her. 

She brings the knife close against your neck making you breath in anticipation. “Do it.” You say looking back at her, yearning. 

She chuckles looking into your eyes with deep intent. “Oh, now you’re brave huh?” Her free hand slid down your body slowly to unzip your jeans and into your underwear while still holding the knife against your jugular vein. 

“Better not move. Might end up slitting this pretty throat.” She breathes her words into your ear making you shiver, moving her index against your clit in tight circles “So wet f’ me.” You prop your thighs against hers while holding her arm so you don't fall on your knees from the way she’s toying with you. “Ungh, Ellie please.” She arches a brow in confusion “Huh baby? I don’t get you. You’d better use your words.”

You groan trying to stay still against the cold blade. “Fuck me please Els, I need it.” She grins before inserting a finger into you while still maintaining the agonizing slow pace. 

Having fun with the way your soft noises are growing louder with frustration, she kept her pace at that same almost teasing, steady pace. “Els please.” You whine in her ear, pouting at her. 

Not even a second goes by and shes ramming in the second finger while her thumb is toying with your clit, going slow but hard on you till you feel the burn of how the knife is nicking you with every thrust she’s giving you. The sensation is intoxicating. The pain of the nicks mix with pleasure — a match made in heaven. “Fuck, you’re such a whore.” 

She put her cheek against yours, bodies even closer than earlier, her fingers taking you closer to the edge. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and the sounds of the squelching so loud it’s pathetic. You’re so close your body is starting to shake uncontrollably, she gets the memo and rubs your clit faster. Broken whines in moans fall from your lips as your hand tightens around her wrist. “Don’t fucking stop.” You whispered, a gasp following your words.

“Cum f’ me.” She says in a commanding tone making you feel even closer than ever. “ ‘M cumming Els.” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own, for the good pain she’s inflicting on you paired with her speed sends you over the edge. You finish, soaking your underwear and parts of your jeans, but it’s definitely a problem for another time.

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 24

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of events that left Lena with no time to think about anything else, let alone to explore her surroundings, but at last on her fourth evening the final Q&A finished at 6pm and for once would be followed by a clear morning as they traveled on to the next city, so she decided to take advantage of the opportunity she had been given.

After several nights of unbroken sleep on excellent mattresses, and several days of intense focus on the intricate scientific details of her work, Lena felt ready to let her hair down with more than just a bath and an early night. She needed to do something with her body and not her brain for a few hours.

Her visit to Violet’s with Alex had sparked something in Lena, and she decided that that was what she wanted tonight – not just a club, but a club where she could go and drink something with a rainbow straw in it, dance with women, and feel like a whole person who belonged to a beautiful, vibrant community that would welcome her with open arms.

When she had packed her case she hadn’t really considered leisure wear, and most of the clothes she had with her were suits, but she’d brought jeans for traveling, and paired with a shirt left open at the throat, rolled up sleeves and an open waistcoat, she could just about pass for club-casual rather than business formal. The place she found wasn’t one with a strict dress code in any case, and Lena was reassured to notice that the group going in ahead of her were variously sporting an eclectic mix of:

Ripped jeans, sneakers and a tank top.

Velvet pants and a waistcoat not unlike Lena’s, though buttoned up and without the shirt underneath.

A slinky black dress that left just enough to the imagination, creatively paired with a full, bushy red beard sprinkled with glitter and heels so high even Lena would have been worried about breaking an ankle in them.

A full Victorian style tailcoat complete with top hat and monocle.

It was safe to say she was not going to stand out here.

Inside was hot and dimly lit, and more crowded than might be expected for a week night when most people would have to be up for work in the morning (or maybe Lena just didn’t spend enough time on the clubbing scene to gauge it). The music was almost-but-not-quite too loud, and she let it wash over and through her, soaking it all in while she downed her first drink and waited for it to loosen her up enough to get out there. She took in the crowd from the edge of the dance floor, everyone moving with the music’s rhythm in varying degrees of cool, sexy, inebriated, but over all blending into the single, undulating entity of the club.

She couldn’t help her mind wandering briefly to Kara’s dancing style as she watched. Kara would never have faded into the background here, no matter how many people were around her. When she danced she was somehow simultaneously awkward and uninhibited, throwing her whole self into it as she leapt about, waved her arms and created her own made up actions to go along with the lyrics of whatever song was playing. Kara embodied ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ more purely than any other person she had ever met, and being with her gave Lena permission to have fun and be silly with it too, rather than focusing on making her movements look good.

She wished she felt free enough to do that now, but she didn’t. Not without Kara. So she searched out the best dancer in the room and tried to subtly imitate them instead, allowing her body to feel the music in a more restrained way as the beat vibrated in her chest and she tipped her head back, multicoloured lights strobing across her closed eyelids.

Her hips swayed and her arms came up above her head. She was flesh and bone and skin, thrumming blood and rushing breath, all physical sensation and no room for thought or feelings beyond the ones the music gave her.

Then there were hands on her hips and another body in her space, and Lena wasn’t dancing alone anymore.

She looked down from the ceiling to find blue eyes gazing back at her. Blonde waves of hair sweeping bare, toned shoulders. A seductive grin as her pelvis was pulled fractionally closer to another person’s.

It wasn’t Kara.

Of course it wasn’t – what would Kara be doing in Metropolis? But God, for a second she thought it was, and it was as if she had slipped directly into a fantasy.

The woman did look a little like her, superficially. The hair, the skin tone, the blue eyes. But they weren’t really alike. This woman was confident, sensual, practically oozing sex as she swayed her hips in time with Lena’s, her nails digging very slightly into the flesh of her sides.

They danced several songs together, growing more comfortable with each other as they found a shared rhythm, and Lena let herself relax into the feeling of being physical with another person as the woman moved closer still, her breasts brushing Lena’s as they swayed on the tightly packed dance floor. She was near enough now that she barely had to lean forwards to be heard over the thumping bass-line, lips so close that her breath tickled Lena’s ear and made the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

‘I haven’t seen you here before.’

The woman’s voice was a deep velvet rasp, reminiscent of Bonnie Tyler, or a habitual smoker. It was unexpected, but appealing for this woman, in this place, and Lena couldn’t help being drawn by it.

‘I’m just visiting – I’ll be flying out again tomorrow morning.’

‘Well then, we’d better make the most of tonight. I’m Sierra.’

‘Lulu.’

Lena hadn’t wanted to give her real name – it was too distinctive, too recognisable when combined with all the publicity she was garnering this week with her product launch, but she hadn’t consciously decided to go with ‘Lulu’ until the word was out there, irretrievable. Shit, she had better make sure Alex never found out about this story, or she would have an absolute field day.

Sierra smiled at her, playful and teasing as she ran the fingers of one hand down Lena’s bicep.

‘I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Lulu.’

She shrugged, no choice but to go with it now she’d said it.

‘Blame my big sister – she started it, and I guess the nickname just stuck.’

‘Cute. So can I get you a drink Lulu?’

Lena hesitated. But after all why not? She was single, she was here for one more night and had been up front about that, there were no strings, and she was having a good time. A little harmless flirtation in a club would be good for her. They moved over to the bar, and Sierra ordered two margaritas. It wouldn’t have been Lena’s first choice, but she accepted hers without a murmur, and they found a comparatively quiet booth away from the main dance floor to cool off and sip their drinks.

‘So, what brings you to Metropolis?’

‘Just work, but I had the night off so I thought I’d come and see what else the city had to offer.’

She smiled at Sierra, allowing herself a quick approving up-and-down glance that lingered on the woman’s lips for just a beat too long to be accidental on the way back up to meeting her eyes. ‘I’m glad I did.’

Sierra smirked back at her, performing the same quick appraisal in return before leaning forward over the table to better display her cleavage.

‘So am I. What is it you do for work Lulu?’

Urgh, why the hell had Lena gone with Lulu? It had been a terrible idea. Now every time Sierra said her name she thought about Alex, and Project Atlantis, and Kara…

She pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on the moment instead.

‘I’m an engineer.’

Well, that wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full story. Sierra’s eyebrows rose, and Lena noticed that she had a little birthmark above one of them, like someone had kissed her there and left a slight smudge of lipstick behind. It was cute. She could imagine kissing that spot herself, straddling Sierra’s lap while the fingers of one hand tangled in her hair and the other roamed lower to Kara’s- no, not Kara. Fuck.

‘You’re just full of surprises. I bet that means you’re really good with your hands.’

Sierra dragged her teeth slowly across her full lower lip as if she could see exactly what sort of thing Lena had been picturing doing with her hands, and she felt her cheeks warm at the thought. She was no stranger to flirting and being flirted with, but this woman was bold, even by her standards. Perhaps that was the difference between flirting at a VIP members only event and an ordinary club. Or perhaps it was just Sierra.

She shrugged with feigned nonchalance, trying to slow things down a bit until she had regained her composure from the mental slip.

‘You could say that... How about you? What do you do when you’re not drinking margaritas with Metropolis tourists?’

‘Oh, I’m a trust fund brat. I more or less do as I like. Get what I like…’

Sierra’s voice was a seductive purr as she laid a hand on Lena’s wrist, running her fingertips lightly over the skin there to show off her long, manicured nails. All but the middle and forefinger, which were trimmed short and filed smooth, blatantly signalling, clearly having no intention at all of slowing down.

‘Do you want to come back to my place for another drink? I think you’ll really like it. I have the best views in the city...’

Lena swallowed.

This wasn’t where she had expected her night to go, but now it was being offered, maybe it should be. It would be easy, anonymous – an itch to scratch to be touched like that when she hadn’t been for so long.

And she did want that.

She desperately missed the feeling of bare skin pressed fully against her own, breaths mingling in the dark, sweat and heat and the shuddering of another person’s body as they found release in each other…

But not like this.

Lena didn’t want a one night stand with a stranger she’d met in a club. She wanted something real.

She wanted Kara.

She drew her hand gently back from Sierra’s and shook her head.

‘I’m sorry. You’re beautiful, but I’m not looking for more than this.’

‘You have a girlfriend?’

‘No. Not… exactly. But there is someone.’

Sierra pulled her own hand back into her lap and smiled at Lena – a real smile this time, not a seductive curl, and it softened her face. She looked unoffended, if mildly disappointed.

‘Lucky someone.’

[carletes]

https://www.instagram.com/p/C8PKme4sSej/?igsh=NGJubzZudm5tdzF2

Revolucion!Lando going around art galleries in Hiberia!!

I’LL DO YOU ONE BETTER: Lando attending his own art exhibitions in Hiberia!!

He’s so nervous, because it’s his first real exhibition, “not one of those silly things I did for my GCSEs,” and he just doesn’t really know how to prepare for it. Everyone tells him “Just do what feels right,” and it’s the worst advice in the world becauee how is he supposed to know what feels right? Especially because everything feels wrong! Everything he does with his hair, his clothes, even the way he practices a little speech—it all feels wrong.

He mopes around all day until Carlos comes home from teaching, at which point Carlos immediately frowns and says, “Mi vida.”

“What.”

“You’re unhappy.”

“Mm.”

“On this, the day of your first exhibition.”

“Thanks, Godfather,” Lando mutters and Carlos rolls his eyes. He approaches Lando, genuine concern in his eyes, and Lando feels like melting. But he’s committed to being grumpy, so he perseveres. A hero.

“Why?”

“It’s all– wrong,” Lando blurts out. Carlos raises an eyebrow. “I feel like a fraud.”

“Imposter’s syndrome,” Carlos says knowingly, and Lando glares at him.

“Been there, done that. This is different! I don’t feel like myself, like, I feel like someone pretending to be me. I don’t feel like– I feel like I hired someone else to do the exhibition for me, but I hired myself and I’m bad at being me.”

“Fucked up,” Carlos muses. Lando nods, glum. Then, Carlos says:

“Have you tried just being you?”

Lando stares at him. Carlos shrugs.

“Mate. Babe. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. For example,” Carlos says, and he gestures broadly at Lando, “you are wearing a suit.”

Lando looks down at himself. He scowls; he remembers vaguely putting it on, hoping it would feel right, but it didn’t. “Thought I should dress up for the occasion,” Lando mutters.

“Why?” Carlos asks. He reaches out for Lando and pulls him closer. Lando’s heartbeat picks up; Carlos pushes back the cuff of his suit jacket, the shirt underneath, and kisses his pulse point. “You look handsome. You look delicious. But you do not look comfortable. And when I think about you at your art exhibition, I don’t think of you in a suit.”

“How do you think of me?” Lando asks quickly, because Carlos hasn’t stopped kissing his wrist and Lando is quickly forgetting what this whole conversation is meant to be about.

“Naked.”

“Carlos!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Carlos says, and he doesn’t sound very sorry. “I think of you in a sweatshirt. Or a hoodie. And some jeans or sweatpants. And sneakers. And you look beautiful.”

Lando blinks. “That simple?”

“That simple,” Carlos confirms, and he kisses Lando’s lips. “Because you’re comfortable. And when you’re comfortable, you’re confident, and you are so, so, so sexy–”

“I have to go change,” Lando says, and he pulls away from Carlos. Carlos looks a little like a lost (horny) puppy in Lando’s wake, so Lando stops, sighs, and goes back to him. When Lando kisses him, it’s through and deep and Carlos has a look in his eyes afterwards that replants the seed of confidence in Lando. Lando grins.

“Sorry. You can have me when everyone else leaves the gallery.”

If Carlos had a tail it would have been wagging.

But when Lando returns, comfortable in a hat, a sweatshirt, and nice but cozy trousers, he feels– good. He feels right. And he gets it.

And it sure doesn’t hurt to see Carlos respond by rushing towards him and tossing him onto the nearest couch.

[impossibleblizzardstudentposts]

Rematch - Part I

I’ve had this little story bouncing around in my head for months now, and finally put together an outline. Feedback sincerely appreciated, as I haven’t written in years, and never for TGM.

Rooster x OC Rebekah Rooney (Bob’s SIL)

“UNCLE BERTIE!“ an excited child’s exclamation rings out in the relative quiet of a weekday afternoon bar crowd.

Lt. Floyd turns around expectantly in the direction of the voice and smiles. He would worry about the implications of everyone calling him ‘Bertie’ later. A small girl, who couldn’t possibly have reached double digits in age, has broken away from her guardian and is now running toward Bob’s group of colleagues. 

“Row, Row, Row Your Boat!” 

Instead of crouching down to meet the girl in a hug, the pair immediately engages in an elaborate secret handshake that matches their silly nicknames. 

“Wow, you two are better than ‘The Parent Trap’!” laughs Natasha, as the rest of their crowd applauds, mostly for the child’s benefit, but also for the obvious joy brought to their friend.

The Daggers were in need of some joy. Though only recently formed, the group had been to hell and back on a nearly impossible mission. Their reward for all making it back in one piece had been some time off around the holidays, which is exactly what brought these foreign guests to The Hard Deck. 

Bob blushes, standing back up to his full height, and clears his throat as he comes to terms with having momentarily been the center of attention. “My niece” he explains, gesturing to the girl. “Rowan”

Luckily, another voice joins them and he is spared having to speak further. “And his dreaded sister in law” says the woman from whom Rowan had just broken free in her excitement, with a curtsy and a joking smile. Rebekah never struggled with speaking up in a crowd the way Bob did. She had the charisma and confidence of someone who’d been on a Broadway stage, because, well, she had. 

Polite introductions begin back and forth, but Bradley’s eyes stay fixed on the new woman and his mind wanders.

“Natasha”

Hand shake.

“Rebekah”

She’s beautiful. That smile.

“Callie”

Wave.

“Rebekah”

Sexy, really. That hair. 

“Mickey”

Wink.

“Rebekah”

She’s familiar. Why is she so familiar?

“Bradley…Bradley…Bradshaw!” Nat nudges her spaced out friend and uses her eyes to draw his attention to the extended hand he had left hanging for longer than acceptable. He quickly takes the hand, dwarfing it in his own, and offers a lopsided grin. 

“Bradley?” she confirms, with a smirk, as they lock eyes. 

“Yes ma’am”

“I’m Rebekah. Bob’s sister in law. Nice to meet you.”

Holy shit. In their moment of close proximity, a whiff of her perfume acts like a key, unlocking Bradley’s memories from New York Fleet Week. It was earlier this year, but it seems like another lifetime. Before Maverick’s return, before Iceman’s death, before the uranium mission. She was there.

As Bradley was sorting this all out in his head, the group has scattered a bit. Bob is taking his family’s luggage to his car. Halo and Fanboy have started a game of pool. Phoenix has helped Rowan onto a bar stool, her light up sneakers dangling, reaching not even halfway to the floor. She is anxiously awaiting a Shirley Temple with seven cherries pleaseandthankyou. Bradley guesses that must be her age. He is further shaken from his thoughts when he hears Rebekah’s voice again. 

“Where’s the restroom?”

“I’ll show you.” Bradley and Nat say at the same time. 

Nat gives him a crooked look, silently questioning why he would show someone to the women’s bathroom. 

But Rebekah smiles. She must have recognized him too. Could this be a ploy to get them alone to talk? 

“I mean, I’m heading that way anyway.” Bradley adds, attempting nonchalance. 

“Do you mind terribly sitting with her until Bob returns?” Rebekah asks of Nat before they venture off. 

“Not at all” Silent girl code thanks are exchanged via simple glances. 

Bradley does lead them down the hallway near the restrooms, but instead pokes his head in an empty storage room and pulls her in, locking the door behind them. Her back is against the wall and he is dangerously close. 

“Mrs. Robinson” he rasps softly, not quite a whisper. 

She was too old for him, she had initially claimed. When they first met, in a crowded bar, flooded by a sea of uniforms, Bradley was flirting in earnest, but she was treating him like an amusing puppy. Surely he could find a more suitable shore leave match than a recent divorcee like her. Ooh maybe an unassuming grad student! she suggested Or a Rockette; they’re leggy. And flexible! Bradley remained undeterred by the couple years she had on him; he honestly wouldn’t have guessed without her saying so. Eventually, he decided if he couldn’t beat ‘em, he’d playfully join in the age bashing. And so, whenever there was a lull in conversation, or when his mouth was close to her ear as they danced, he would hum the Simon & Garfunkel tune. In the end, it worked in his favor, as the only thing that shut him up was a kiss. 

“Hey, Sailor”

[koffeesfancy]

Being Koffee's Tall Girlfriend™

Starting playful fights by hiding things on top shelves

Never being able to find sneakers in both of your sizes to match

Her always fussing at you to eat more because she thinks you'll faint if you have small portions

Her standing on her tiptoes to give you a twirl when you dress up in heels

Her always flexing her muscles with a goofy smile and lifting heavy things to prove how much stronger she is

Her always finding an excuse to pick you up or throw you on the bed or couch

Having to move the seat each time you drive her car

Being asked to check for things at the top of the cabinet

Her always wanting to oil your long legs for you, because she finds them so sexy

Her making sure no one's looking to pull your skirts and dresses lower in public with a pointed look and grin

Her looking so cute being swallowed by your jackets

Looking silly when you borrow each others sandals to run outside

Laughing when you take stops on walks for her to catch up

Being mistaken for her mother or big sister and going along with it to get a rise out of her

Her being the littlest big spoon ever 🥺

[satans-helper]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XVII

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3 // Playlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~2400

Warnings: none, but this is another Jake chapter

---

“Sam hasn’t been home in four days.”

Jake sighed fiercely at Josh’s unnecessary statement. He ignored it, burying his nose in a new book, a book devoid of romance and vampires and blood. It was a book that he couldn’t get invested in. His twin kicked him from the other side of the couch; Jake huffed and tossed the book down into his lap with a coarse, “What?”

“I know you were hoping that conversation at Danny’s resolved everything,” Josh said, stretching his legs out, invading Jake’s space even more. “But clearly, that’s not the case. What are you going to do to fix it?”

“What is there to do?” came Jake’s despondent-sounding reply, but his heart wrenched as he spoke. “I should just leave both of them alone.”

Josh sighed and leaned forward, tucking his legs underneath himself. “That’s not a good solution. Sam is your brother and Danny is your friend and he’s a significant part of Sam’s life.”

Jake picked the book back up. “So what do you think I should do?” 

“Talk to him. Talk to Sam. Be friends with Danny without crossing boundaries. You have to rebuild some trust there, Jakey.”

Jake knew his twin was right. He just didn’t have it in himself to explain why that couldn’t be done–he didn’t even trust himself to not cross those boundaries, to not further break trust with his brother and further damage his friendship with Danny. It felt entirely impossible so long as he felt such an intense pull into that innocently charming, silly, sexy vampire that Sam had found first, and with Sam having found Danny first, there was a bitterness that festered in Jake’s own heart. It wasn’t something he wanted to feel. He’d tear it out if he could. But he couldn’t, and he felt the only actual, tangible solution was to let the distance linger. 

Instead of saying all or any of that, Jake just said, “I’ll try.”

Well, Jake concluded later on, when the spring sun was still bright despite the hour growing later and later, Sam still hadn’t come home, so he couldn’t try quite yet. So he headed out, at first just driving somewhat aimlessly with the window down and a cigarette in one hand while the other manned the wheel, music loud but still not drowning out his thoughts. 

Two cigarettes and most of an album later, he ended up at a trailhead south of home–the gravel and dirt parking lot was empty and the trees shimmied outside with the languid breeze, calling him to actually step out, breathe the clear air, and get moving to try and quiet his thoughts. But when Jake actually began walking, sneakers crunching over that gravel and kicking up dry, dusty dirt before he was able to tread over soft, wispy grass, all of his thoughts only seemed to get louder.

He was a little mad at himself that he’d let his act fall to the wayside. Jake felt confident that he hadn’t been showing any feelings toward Danny, always just being supportive of him and Sam, no matter what he actually felt when he found himself alone with Danny. He’d never given himself inflated credit–even when Danny found him and let the two of them linger alone, Jake knew it wasn’t out of anything beyond normal, innocent friendship. Nevertheless, it was titillating each time it happened–Jake could be there with just Danny and for the fleeting minutes, it felt like what they had was still profound, even if it wasn’t entirely what Jake wanted. 

The wide, flat trail walled in by long grass and wildflowers eventually narrowed, leaving Jake to walk down a thin dirt trail curving into the woods. The sunlight slanted and shimmered over leaves and branches, and he blinked at it and up into the sky, briefly wondering what Sam and Danny were up to. The guilt of pushing Sam away from his own home, from his own brothers, pained Jake’s heart–but then he thought more about what Sam and Danny were, in fact, up to and jealousy wound itself tightly around his heart instead, its rancor seeming to mirror the deeper, darker stretch of woods he found himself walking into.

The late spring–summer was just around the corner, Jake realized–may have been in full force with the blooming, bright flowers; creamy bloodroot and white trillium dotted the forest floor he walked across, along with tiny, golden buttercups and frequent patches of bold violets. Nonetheless he felt as though winter still kept an icy hold on him. Stepping carefully over thick, tangled roots that dared to trip him, Jake reflected on when he actually spent real time with Danny for the first time, during their Christmas party. 

He’d been drunk, of course, and it had been apparent that Danny had been drunk as well. And when they’d encountered each other in the house, with Danny free of Sam and Jake free of Josh and anyone else, his heart had skipped quick and steady in his chest. It had been an opportunity, but Jake had been wise and kind enough to not take what he wanted then, not anything close. Back then, he hadn’t even been sure Danny was a vampire–there still wasn’t enough to point to that. Just that Danny was a bit of a recluse at times, as Jake was too–quiet, reserved, observant. But Danny had a fire beneath the surface that could compliment Sam’s own wildness. It was no wonder they were immediately attracted to one another.

But Jake had been immediately attracted to Danny too. How could he not be? The gentle, subdued and methodical parts of Danny bewitched Jake in how significantly they resonated with him, and the fire beneath the surface only drew him in further. The depth of Danny’s mystery was alluring in and of itself but, on the literal surface, physically, Danny was just plain alluring as a whole. Dark and handsome in his own wild way, with those piercing eyes and uniquely crafted face; tall and just the right amount of strong, all long-limbed, able to carry himself in a way Jake never could. Jake had never seen anyone who looked like Danny, never heard anyone who talked like him, laughed like him–Danny had been all on his own in the world until Sam, that lucky Sam, had found his way into his universe. 

Another thing that really hurt, Jake thought as the path through the woods led back out into open sky and around a small pond where ducks idled and frogs croaked, is that he was sure that even if he’d gotten to Danny first, Danny would have ended up with Sam anyway. Danny just didn’t feel the same about him. He’d heard Sam use the word “soulmate” more than once in reference to Danny, a word Jake had pondered so many times in his life but never said about anyone else. He envied that alone, that experience, and now he was worried he was going to become too bitter to have that with anyone else. 

Not that Jake could currently picture having that with anyone. He really couldn’t. All he could see was Danny, the person he wanted so desperately and could never have, and not being able to have him probably made the desperation worse. Would it really be any better even if, for some reason, Sam and Danny both agreed that Danny could indulge himself with Jake one time? Just to see what it’s really like? Or would that too make Jake’s feeling more visceral, more painful?

Right now, Jake concluded that that was a risk he was willing to take if ever he got the opportunity. But he knew that it would never come. 

Just as he was lingering in front of the pond, considering sitting himself down atop one of those flat-topped rocks along the edge and watching the ducks and waiting for frogs, the image of Danny drawing Sam into his lap and bringing his mouth to his neck assaulted his mind. He scoffed out loud into the air and began walking again, faster now, horrified. He didn’t want to think about his brother with Danny; he didn’t want to think about anyone with Danny, but that image was there, and more kept coming as he passed by reeds and cattails, now sweating from the early evening sun and his own aggravation. 

What was Danny actually like, intimately? Did he say sweet things? Did he caress lovingly or did he pull and push? Instead of beckoning gently, did he grab demandingly? Was he mindful of his sharp canines when he kissed or did he bite freely, playfully? Did all the fire beneath the surface, the animalistic side that every man and certainly every vampire had, break free when the lights were off and he was consuming another person? 

Jake could only imagine, and he’d imagined hundreds of times since meeting Danny. Above all else, no matter how Danny and Sam both attempted to demean the vampire status, Jake couldn’t imagine being with Danny as even slightly ordinary. 

Skirting the pond’s edge, occasionally glancing from the trail beneath his feet to the water to look for fish and frogs, the air felt warmer again as Jake’s journey led him west into the sun that was beginning to set. How long until this “crush” passed, until this fascination ended? Or would it be a long journey of its own making, one of emotional torment and the dissolution of brotherhood and friendship? He couldn’t handle that. Besides, Josh would never accept their group being irreparably damaged–if only Josh could break the spell himself somehow. If only anyone could, Jake thought, because he wasn’t sure how to do it himself and Danny couldn’t either if his mere existence created that spell. 

When he returned home, Sam was actually there too. Jake found him in his bedroom, gathering more clothes to bring to Danny’s, and Jake leaned in the doorway, nervous energy bubbling up inside himself once more. Sam’s fury was no joke. He’d faced it many times over their lives together. Not that Jake was always a peach either, but age had mellowed him out to an extent, whereas Sam’s inner flames seemed forever ignited. 

Risky as it was, Jake invited himself to sit down on Sam’s bed. “Sam. Can we talk?” 

Sam turned to look at him, though Jake knew his presence had been noted moments before the acknowledgement. “About what?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be home. Like you can’t even be around me,” Jake said, actually vocalizing that thought that made the ache in his chest worse. “We’re brothers.”

“Jake,” Sam said, then sighed as he stuffed a pair of shorts into a duffel bag. “I didn’t even talk to Danny for almost a week. We’re just making up for lost time.”

Two things could be true at once, but all Jake said was, “Okay.” He watched Sam pack away a few more pieces of clothing in tense silence, then his brother suddenly slammed the open drawer of his dresser shut and whirled back around to stare Jake down.

“What did you think you were doing with him really, Jake?” Sam asked, his eyes furious, dangerous. “Keeping it all quiet so you could make a move on him? You’d really betray me like that?”

“No!” Jake quickly protested, raising his hands as if to ward off incoming blows, but Sam stayed where he was, which was somehow more threatening. “I never planned to do that. I never even seriously thought about making a move or anything–”

Sam’s jaw visibly tightened before he said, “But you did think about it.”

Jake felt like a child in grave trouble, not the older brother in this situation. “I couldn’t help it,” he said quietly, averting his eyes. “No one can help thinking about that, Sam.”

Sam scoffed so harshly that it sort of felt like a slap to Jake’s face. “Okay, well, talking about this only makes me more fucking mad at you, Jake. So why don’t we just stop?”

“We have to talk about it. We have to repair things–”

“No, we don’t have to! My anger had mostly fucked off until you brought it up just now,” Sam said, looking as though it was difficult for him to keep himself from actually wailing on Jake. “You think I want a reminder that you, my own brother, wants to fuck my boyfriend? That you kept a secret from me because you had some fucking agenda? I just wanna fucking forget about it.”

Jake swallowed, his throat dry and tight. “But you can’t just ignore me. You can’t ignore that Danny and I are friends either.”

Sam let out a mocking laugh. “Good luck with that.” He shoved Jake’s shoulder with one hand. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

Jake wanted to fight back. But he felt he had no real right to and it would be futile anyway–Sam’s wrath was nothing to mess with and not easily challenged even in the most advantageous circumstances, and right now, Jake had no leg to stand on. So he did what he was told, skulking out of Sam’s room like a wounded animal.

Josh only approached him again after Sam was gone, the front door of the house slamming and announcing his departure. He met Jake out back, on the deck where so many words had been exchanged between Jake and Danny, and said, “He just needs some more time then. It’ll be alright, Jake.”

“He hates me,” Jake said, slumping back in the deck chair, not even getting high or smoking a cigarette or drinking. He’d just been looking up at the stars, thinking even more about Danny than his current familial crisis, which prompted him to add, “He has every right to hate me.”

---

Tagging:

@mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @milojames16 @brokebellsgvf @streamsofstardust

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

[bunny-j3st3r]

Archie sonic comic #5

Woooo weeee now I finished one of my bigger projects I can return to the torture that is these comics.

reminder that as much as I dislike archie sonic I am going to attempt to post as many positive as I do negative comments, these are just me logging my thoughts as I go through ALL of the comics because I like to torture myself.

Issue number 5 was released in Dec of 1993, just in time for parents to buy this issue as a last minute christmas gift to shove in there kids stocking when there kid had been begging for the sonic game for christmas. This was what they meant right?

We open up to Tails watching his succesful sonic clones in fascination. Soon he will have a fully operational baseball team. He can only pray there DNA holds together, the last clone ended up in a pod in some underground prison somewhere.

On a somewhat fitting storyline considering the olympic games recently. I do wonder if Robotnik holds a paralympics version by rendering the competeors disabled himself.

forcing you all to look at sonic's hand feet. I hate how they look like they can grip around a can of beans.

Robotnik would do numbers as a discord mod

And with sonic's nasty ass sneakers returned to him he kicks up a stink cloud, confusing this poor helpless robot who was rightfully winning.

Sonic is a cheat and a meance and I want that bitch turned into a robot.

We open with the obvious haha silly spoiled woman, she can not cook joke :) (I am joking please pl-)

comic cancelled this ant is the coolest fucking character in the series

Is it really a secret when you get your amazon prime, sorry robotzon prime packages delivered? Are the robots aware? Do they have a PO box? Or does robotnik just ignore there address like "I want to kill them fairly, doxing them is just evil."

who works at archie and is drawing buff and sexy termites, I just wanna talk.

Oh real funny.

Whoever drew this, I know what you are.

And our muscle growth bara termite is stopped by a womans cooking, point and laugh everyone. Point at how the princess can not cook.

vibes of running a discord server and having a popular tumblr blog

Another foul sin of gluttony committed by the hog.

But don't worry were in ken penders era soon, the sin will become lust.

I always assumed Sally was a chipmunk.

Where the fuck her tail?

A small child shows interest in the robots that dr robotnik creates only be told to get fucked by sonic the hedgehog.

That child grew up to be be Dr Starline.

FIRST < PREV < NEXT >

[picturespurple-68]

A little fic I wrote for @ashafox based on a spicy piece from their Twitter (18+ only).

Summary: College au, nerd!Ivan stuffs jock!Alfred into a locker with only a toy and little clothes.

Rating: Explicit 18+

"Ivan! Ivan please dude it was just a joke! Come on, don't be like this! Vany- mph!"

A strip of duct tape slapped over the mouth shut him up fast.

"That is enough out of you." Ivan smugly looked over his handiwork of Alfred. He'd convinced the man to join him in the men's locker room and had him strip down to nothing but his silly jockstrap with a promise of, "sexy fun times" as Alfred liked to say. From there it was easy to overpower him, tying his wrist behind his back using the obnoxiously long laces of his cleats and shoving his favorite bullet vibrator down the front of his underwear with the wire securely tucked into the waistband.

After being manhandled into his open locker, Ivan took delight in clicking the toy on and hearing him startle. Alfred looked at him indignantly when Ivan laughed at him, "What's wrong Alfred? This is just a taste of your own medicine."

"M-mm!"

He gave his phone a check noticing the time, "Don't worry. I'll be back for you after class. Oh- And try to stay quiet. You wouldn't want your team to find you like this."

Alfred could only give more muffled protests as he watched Ivan walk away.

Fuck. Now he was stuck here with this God damn incessant buzzing against his cock. It got worse when its pattern changed to something more intense and stuttering.

Leaning against the cool locker wall, Alfred could only ride out the sensations and focus on remembering to breathe through his nose. A minute passed, he could do this. A couple more now, his cock was growing but he was fine. Ten minutes in, ah ah ah yes please! Don't stop ngh! Minute eleven, no! It changed, why did it change?!

There was no rhyme or reason for the alternating pulses he had to ride out. It was always just when it was getting good that he'd be brought back down and now he was aware of how wet his jock had become.

'Ivan you dickhead.' His thoughts could only think about the nerd who put him in this predicament with his shitty personality, stupid baby face, ridiculously big di-

SLAM

Alfred tensed when the sound of the locker room door echoed through the space followed by footsteps and familiar voices.

"Idiot! Don't slam the door, you'll draw attention to us!" 'Oh, that was definitely Gilbert's scratchy ass tone.'

"You interrupted my date with Lukas! Let's just get this done already, which locker did you stash it in?" 'Matthias? Shit! Both their lockers are near mine!'

He could hear the two getting closer and his body inexplicably grew hot. It might've been because of his exhibition kink that Ivan so loved to exploit from the young man, or maybe it was the toy's vibration suddenly intensifying on his dick. Either way, Alfred could barely focus on keeping himself quiet as his orgasm approached faster than his brain could register.

The delaying of his pleasure made it feel all the better as he came hard enough for his cum to spill through the fabric and drip to the floor. It seemed luck was on his side when the two men dug through a locker just on the other side of Alfred's.

When his mind began to clear, he could faintly hear metal banging metal and sneakers squeaking farther away. Everything was going well, at least, until he realized the vibrator was still buzzing on his now sensitive cock.

'Oh God oh shit! Stop! Stop! Ahn please!'

He could plead all he wanted in his head but there was nobody around to help. The only relief he could get was when the vibrations went down again; too bad it never completely stopped. His hips twitched madly while his skin grew clammy all over especially his face, with his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose and the tape on his mouth beginning to peel off.

'How much longer will this last?!'

—————————————————————

45 minutes

That's how long it took before Ivan came walking back to find Alfred in the state he was in. At some point his glasses had fully fallen off, letting him press his whole face into the locker wall. A look of bliss graced his features as his eyes could barely stay open and moans slipped out of the parting duct tape. Ivan took note of the small puddle of cum that continued to dribble from his soaked underwear.

Giving a click of the tongue, he took mercy on Alfred and turned the bullet off. A grateful sob ripped through the spent man who leaned over in exhaustion to fall into Ivan's hold. Moving to sit on a bench with the American in his lap, Ivan helped him to come down from his high by petting his hair and whispering gentle praise in Russian.

Eventually, when touching his skin resulted in less twitching and his breathing evened out, the bigger man got up to carry Alfred to the showers nearby. He'd be a bit out of it for the rest of the day, but Ivan was glad to take care of the man until he was back to his usually obnoxious self.

[fixomnia-scribble]

WIP Wednesday

Whoa, LONG time no WIP Wednesday.

In among everything else going on, I’ve been playing with a sequel/homage to @unreliablenarratorink​‘s gorgeous, intense “Sleepless”. Specifically the idea of pulling Gillian and Cal out from their pocket-universe of drunken confessional canoodling on the cozy study couch, and into the light of day the morning after. So this is the first bit of Gillian’s slightly hung over PoV, about five hours after “Sleepless” closes.

Daybreak

Gillian wakes at seven, as always. She’s alone on the couch in the study. It’s hardly the first time she’s woken here, after a nap or a late work crisis. It’s not unusual for Cal to pull the old soft blanket over her, just as she does when she finds him here. Something is different. Her eyes focus on a large single pink dahlia, filched from one of the patio urns, standing in a mug at eye level on the coffee table. A larger mug of water waits pointedly beside it. The small cushion that’s left embroidered patterns in her cheek has a faint warmed scent of Cal and of her, and of scotch breath.

She smiles at the dahlia, pulls herself nearly upright and rubs her temples, relieved that Cal is not there to witness the succession of thoughts that pass over her face. He knows exactly what scanning for last nights’ demons looks like, and the last thing she wants is for him to start second-guessing himself. She rolls her neck slowly, and pulls herself together enough to drink down the water, finger-pick the worst of the frizz from her hair and locate her shoes. The fact that she’s forty-three and doesn’t need to pee first thing is not a good harbinger of the day ahead. Should have hydrated before she slept, but…distracted.

Cal and warmth and safety and a buzz of arousal that nearly turned crackling hot and finally, finally, the words and the truth.

No demons? Cannot be determined at this time.

Giddy stomach flutters: present. Chorus-singing butterflies in attendance.

“Love when you’re being silly. ‘S very sexy.”

What about pensive and extremely sober on the morning after? Follow up: the morning after what, exactly?

He told her everything last night. She never gave him a reply, her attention shot between absorbing the impact of his (words? face? erection?) and drunkenly coasting on the glowing intimacy between them. Which means that, come this morning, he’s going to poke and provoke and point in her face and do whatever it takes to get a genuine reaction out of her. He won’t be able to help himself. 

Well, she's the one who opened the first bottle and demanded the truth, and he obliged.

She groans quietly to herself and rubs her temples again.

She gets to her feet and carries her shoes with her through Cal’s office and into the corridor. Cal is still not in evidence. No smell of coffee from the breakroom, either. The soft pot-lights switch on overhead, precisely ten feet ahead of her, with every step, till she’s in her own office. She flicks open the blinds, squints at the bright but shifting weather, and collects a set of workout gear and a spare outfit from the closet in the corner. She pulls a face at her sneakers, and begins to make her way to the gym three floors up. Not penance but experience: flush the system early and often.

And with luck, instill some rational thought in the butterflies before coming face to face with Cal Lightman.

[ask-hannah-blog]

Just a heads up Hannah, I've heard there's a bad infestation of Mimic heels in regular shoe store stocks due to some pissed-off wizard trying to have some fun. If you've never heard of those things, I'd suggest looking them up. The long and short of it is, they're living mimic shoes that activate upon wearing. They bind themselves to the wearer and start licking them to tickle them and sustain themselves on the sweat and mana they get from their victim's laughter. Usually you need a trained magic user to take them off, otherwise you'll be stuck in those things. Heels are the most common variants but I've also heard of Mimic sandals, sneakers, and various others. Then again, maybe Sissy or Daisy would like a pair...

Hahahahahahahahaha!

What a hilarious prank! Geeeeez my chair is all wet now! Hahaha reading this gave me a big honking squirt! Hehehehe!

Is it bad I want a pair? 🙈

It just sounds like so much fun! It’s probably best for those clowns who don’t have a stable of foot kickers to keep their feet nice and happy, but still!

Gosh, what I’m really excited about is strapping these good boys to some normies. Then they can be silly too! Hehehe wouldn’t seeing them laughing their heads off, peeing their pants just be the most wonderful thing? Hehe just thinking of all that laughter gives me goose bumps!

Have any clownies given their normy friends a pair? I know you all can’t make more sexy clowns like me, but you can still spread the joy! Not everyone can be a clown! We need a crazy giggling audience too!

Hehe

Ms. Honkers

[abimee]

5, 17, 18, 20 for your wols :]

how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?

Ruyan dresses for a majority of her time as an adventurer in what I cal the ''never seen Eorzean fashion before and just bought shit that looked comfortable'' and therefore dresses looking a bit like an idiot. She wears THREE shirts underneath her coat, the flannel patterned pants, and white dirty nasty sneakers with no socks. She has refused new clothes multiple times for religious reasons and if you watch her around shadowbringers era you can see the sole of his left shoe is falling off slightly but he still wont get new shoes. Ryder calls it combat clothes.

Ryder definitely tries to dress for style but also mostly just copies whats in-fashion to blend in, she doesn't think about her appearance at all and will just wear whatever, though she often prefers things that will obscure her big ass

Althaea obviously during amaurotine time dressed in her robes and has no concept of ''fashion'', but in Eorzean times when she's around in a silly offshoot concept she's defos out here wearing cute and sexy outfits, especially beachwear and long dresses that lets her show skin because its a new concept for her and she loves trying new things :]

tock is ALL ABOUT trying new clothes but she especially loves big frilly dresses and button up shirts, but after the horrors of Endwalker shes been walking around strictly wearing the sophist robes and a wedding veil of (dynamis) flowers for mental unwellness reasons

how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

WELL Tock is 11-12 so she's still a child doing fuck all. but a reason why she went to become an Adventurer at such a young age is because she spent most of her (remembered) childhood inside her family's shop in Ul'dah unable to leave, both because the Calamity hit when she was 8 and scarred her deeply and therefore her mother didn't want her playing around outside during the rebuilding efforts, but also because Tock is the only Tutti child to have been able to survive the family curse (any Tutti child who is a man dies before they are full grown) Tatala is reluctant to let her out and possibly endanger herself, since she is the only Tutti in her generation and therefore the only one left to carry on the legacy of her mother and her 24 aunts.

Due to this Tock spent a LOT of her time indoors by herself, so she mostly just learned to play musical instruments and various trades her 24 aunts work on like woodcarving and moneycounting, but otherwise she'd play by herself and create elaborate plays and concepts to act out in her own room alone with her stuffed animals

ruyan spent her childhood literally just living in a cave and staring at shadows on the wall all day and then sleeping on the cold hard floor. For years. Sometimes going outside to sit in the grass and stare at the clouds but mostly just sat in the cave with his community and did light help around. He and Ryder left the steppe when Ruyan was around I thiiiink age 14, so during his teen years he spent his summers upkeeping his and ryder's small inn room they lived in for years as Ryder took on odd jobs around Kugane :]

Ryder spent her living childhood on a boat out in the sea as her mothers sailed the world and robbed Garlean ships so she spent a lot of it fishing/drawing underdeck and talking to pirates!

Althaea doesnt remember a chunk of her childhood because she concussed herself so hard she lost blood flow to her brain once and a bit of time got lost in the aftermath, but Althaea was born and raised in Elpis by two cthonic horn researches, but would get sent to Amaurot when the city had it's warm, summer months. She actually met Hades this way because she didnt know anybody in the city and just one day saw hades playing by himself and ran up to him and asked if they could be friends, he said no but she kept asking until he gave in and let her sit next to him. He didnt have any other friends so Althaea and Hades spent all their summers together, and when Althaea permanently moved to Amaurot as a teenager to apprentice under Venat she oft spent her summers then travelling the world :]

their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

Ryder loves murder

HOWEVER Ryder does believe liars and stealers and murderers are unjust, and she recognizes she's a hypocrite in this regard but that she has no qualms with being seeing as a bad person for doing these things. She believes she is doing what she's doing (lying/stealing/killing) for a just cause, but in the end of the day it's still lives she's taking and people she's lying to and things she's stealing, so she accepts she's not the best person and is in fact going against her own moral code to further something (which is an image of hatred and fear so that she knows others dislike her for reasons she created, and not reasons out of her control, because thats what scares her)

Ruyan believes that violence is a constance in the universe and that while there is no truly just reason to kill, there is no way to rid of it entirely, so every life taken needs to be considered and reasoned in a greater balance. That is that you will need to kill eventually in your life, but to take any enjoyment out of it is vile.

Ruyan however is not above lying or stealing, as she sees the inequality within the world and believes that these small acts can both be a justified and unjustified mean; stealing food to eat or jewerly to sell to make money to eat is just, but stealing purely for the sake of owning something for personal enjoyment is unjust to her.

Ruyan also cannot say shit about lying considering he is a confirmed cheater who lied about something that happened and slept with someone under the assumption Ruyan was single👍 so she dodges all conversation about personal beliefs on lying

Tock is absolutely 100% oblivious to the concept of death and killing as a moral concept but she defos thinks lying sends you to hell. She's not above stealing though

Althaea....... althaea [stares wistfully] she is 100% under the belief that killing is wrong, stealing is wrong, and lying is wrong. No take backs. To take away a life from something when an alternative route can be chosen is an evil in her eye and so hythlo and hades particularly dodge doing anything funny to concepts when shes looking

if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?

MY FAVORITE TOPIC. IN ORDER

RYDER drives a 1978 Mercury Monarch. In my mind Ryder would never learn to drive but in a small part of me she WOULD drive and would own an M. Monarch. Absolutely clean inside besides for an insane amount of change in her cup holder and three large coffee mugs left in the back seat because she drinks whole cups of coffee out of glass mugs when driving. Absolutely pristine otherwise though interior wise. She takes immaculate care of her car and will yell at you if you leave any trash in it or spill anything. She gets it routinely checked and only gets parts replaced if she can find pristine makes and models that match. Her Monarch is her prize and joy

RUYAN drives a 1991 Ford F-150 and it smells like cigarettes. Stickers and sharpie marks on the interior. Absolutely blasted breaks and suspension but its still street legal, just a bit scary when youre parked on an incline and the truck rocks back a good 2 feet before its able to push forward. It has absolutely rocked back and hit many tailgaters because of it. It is the most trailer trash ''bought it for $500 on craigslist" truck ever but it has literally never broken down on them and always gets Ruyan to where he needs to go. They give her a name and call it Hydaelyn because its a piece of shit but it gets the job done

Tock is 12 she cant even ride a bike cause its scary

ALTHAEA... 1980 Pontiac firebird Trans AM. It is absolutely a shitter just like Ruyans car but its SLEEK and its VINTAGE. she's blasting The Platters on its shitty CD player that Hades had to build into it for her. she's blasting Searchin' by The Coasters while doing 60 mph on a 50 mph downhill road in this. It's pretty clean but theres some clothes and cups in the back. She and hythlodaeus have abolustely had intimate relations in this car but have also knocked their heads against the roof multiple times. It gets her around but its also on the verge of blowing up i think

[0613magazine]

150202 Mina Magazine

English Translation (member profiles)

J-Hope 1. Introduce yourself! Hello, I am your cute icon. Hope Hope’s J-Hope!

2. What’s your weakness? I can’t resist smiles from cute girls (laughs).

3. What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? Please wear sneakers so you can have fun~ For clothes, just be simple.

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know V is actually a genius (laughs).

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why? Jimin. He looks like he’ll totally obey his girlfriend.

Rap Monster 1. Introduce yourself! Hello, I am Rap Monster who has a cool voice. I’m very sexy.

2. What’s your weakness? I worry about too many things.

3. What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? Anything you wear is OK!

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know V will occassionally get up obediently.

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why? Jimin. He’s very gentle.

Suga 1. Introduce yourself! Hello I am Suga, the cutest in BTS.

2. What’s your weakness? No energy.

3. What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? Relaxing clothing that will allow you to enjoy the concert!

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know There’s no secrets between us!

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why?

Me because I like those with my type of personality.

Jimin 1. Introduce yourself! Hello! I am Bangtan’s vocal, dance, charm, face and in charge of height’s Jimin!

2. What’s your weakness? I can’t resist Jungkook.

3. What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? Relaxing clothing.

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know None.

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why? Jimin! Too charming!

V 1. Introduce yourself! Sexy eyes and collarbone, strong thighs, frivolous eyes.

2. What’s your weakness? I really shine. No one can look at me directly.

What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? Sleeveless shirt with a thing coat, as well as slippers.

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know J-Hope never wore earrings before.

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why? V. I will devote everything when I’m dating.

Jin 1. Introduce yourself! I am Bangtan’s Jin. Although I have monolids, my eyes are very big. I can’t really train my body to be muscly.

2. What’s your weakness? No muscles.

3. What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? Relaxing clothes that will allow you to enjoy the concert.

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know J-Hope keeps say he won’t eat it but after I order, he would sit next to me secretly eating my food.

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why? None because I know everyone’s personality…

Jungkook 1. Introduce yourself! Hello I am Bangtan’s maknae Jungkook! I take pride in my gentle voice! Lalalala~

2. What’s your weakness? Be silly.

3. What do you hope your female fans will wear to your concert? All black!

4. Say a secret about the members that only you know Honestly, J-Hope hyung only LOOKS cheerful.

5. If you’re a girl, which member would you date and why? None. I absolutely do not want to date them (laughs).

Scans: Chansol_kook

English Translation: yoogamin

[severingt]

SoulPM Playlist 17th February 2012

 Everybody Everybody – Blackbox

Every Time I See You I Go Wild – High Inergy

Losalamitoslatinfunklovesong – Gene Harris

Child of Love – Caston and Majors

Just A Little Lovin’ – Sarah Vaughn

Genius II – Valerie Sipson

Turn Back the Hands of Time – Jimmy and David Ruffin

If I Could Give You the World – Hearts Of Stone

Sleep (Little One) – Marv Johnson

Aint No Sun Since You’ve Been Gone – Temptations

Choosy Beggar – Smokey Robinson and the Miracles

Function At the Junction – Shorty Long

Dearest One (Mel-O-Dy) – Lamont Dozier

Baby Don’t You Do It – Marvin Gaye

I’m Still Loving You – Kim Weston

Just Be Yourself – LaBrenda Ben

Silly Boy – Marvelettes

You Sexy Thing – Hot Chocolate

Isn’t She Lovely – Stevie Wonder

Smile – Diana Ross

Good Lovin’ Is Just A Dime Away – Originals

I Just Wanted To Cry – Edwin Starr

A Man Is a Woman’s Weakness – Gladys Knight and the Pips

These Eyes – Jr Walker and the All Stars

The Touch of You – Brenda and the Tabulations

Whole Lotta Woman – Isley Brothers

Loves Gone Bad – Chris Clark

Stormy Weather – Willie Hutch

The Hunter Gets Captured By the Game – Barbara McNair

Hi Heel Sneakers – Sammy Davis Jr

It’s Easy To Fall In Love With A Guy Like You – Martha Reeves And The Vandellas

[dvdslayer]

I do love clothes that people gift me sometimes. Even if they are assuming and defining my tastes and my presentation for me. Like a doll, the people in my life adorn me with what they want to see in me. The story they wish to subscribe to of my life with my silhouette.

Some family who never grew up with me and are familiar with an older version of me before I have changed like me in steel toe boots, sneakers, skate shoes, jeans, flannels, and t-shirts. Friends and lovers left clothes that quilt together a history through the lenses of those I've loved. Some leave behind familiar silhouettes. Some leave behind warm wool that embraces me like an aesthetic hug, and others thin fabrics that slide across my skin like kisses all over my body.

But each, despite how they may feel about me or how palpable the space is between us, whether necessary, reasonable, rational, or regrettable, it always feels like a way for them to touch me despite the distance. When I can't feel their sorrow, shaky sentences, or tears. When I can't hear the words or smell their stink or feel their faces. I keep a scrapbook of textiles in my closet to experience someone's love without wasting their time. Or their space. Or their energy.

Never speaking on or inserting a love they haven't expressed for me but as an appreciation of their presence's impact on me. Loving, caring, annoying, silly, friendly, sexy, romantic, platonic, disheartening, disappointing, unflattering, or anxiety-inducing as it may be. I can reflect on their presence in isolation and better ponder our relationship.

I also love watching myself evolve through others' eyes. Gay, bi, sapphic, masculine, tacky, pretty, butch, feminine, sleek, strong, dainty, fruity, refined, groovy, functional, practical, lazy, loafish, handy, performative, lowkey, artsy, simple, complex, eclectic, etc.

And the intersting combinations of such, an ex boyfriends shirt of a metal band i don't like over lingerie my mother gave me as a gift when she discovered another daughter to spoil. Carhartt work pants over rose adorned leggings capped by skate shoes with bekittened socks underneath.

I only yearn for a wardrobe defined by my own perception of myself.