#that slow motion 👌

[abirddogmoment]

Had a phenomenal rally trial this weekend at a local dog club! This club is not my jam for a variety of reasons but they blew my expectations out of the water and held a truly great trial.

This was Mav's first time running triples (masters, excellent B, advanced B in the same half-day) so we only ran the morning trials. It was extremely cool to run the hardest course, then have some elements made a bit easier and run again, then have even more elements made easier and run again. Mav was happy and confident for all of our runs and I got some great tips on how to perform exercises more technically.

We finished off with our first masters Q and two more legs towards our RAE, but more importantly, with some really REALLY nice victories under our belts.

[maybanksbaby]

summary: oh, poor drew has to lose his big biceps while filming queer. and oh, poor drew, is victim of his girlfriend's teasing :(

warnings: none, pretty light and fluffy 👌

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling idly through your phone, when the sound of a key turning in the lock catches your attention. Glancing up, you see Drew walk through the door, looking a bit slimmer but still smiling in that warm way that lights up his whole face. He came home only for a few days, and you still couldn't get over the fact that they didn't gave you a small copy of your boyfriend, it was actually Drew. Even if you were there in his whole process of weight losing, it felt weird.

You missed those pretty big things so much it was painful.

He’s wearing a loose T-shirt and faded jeans, his hair tousled from a long day on set, and something about him seems softer around the edges—almost like he’s let his guard down after weeks of intense filming.

You sit up, an exaggerated frown on your face. “Oh, no way.” Your tone is teasing, but you can’t resist it as you give him a once-over. “What happened to those big, strong biceps of yours, Starkey? Am I seeing things, or did you trade them in for some noodles?”

Drew raises an eyebrow, pausing mid-step as he gives you a look of mock offense. “Noodles? Seriously?”

You grin and shrug, crossing your arms. “I don’t know, babe. They’re looking a little… deflated.” You stretch out an arm, giving his bicep a playful poke as he comes closer. “Am I supposed to start lifting the groceries now?”

Drew lets out a chuckle and drops his bag on the floor before plopping down on the couch next to you. “I’ll have you know that my ‘noodle arms’ still work just fine,” he says, feigning indignation as he flexes, the bicep muscle tightening under his sleeve even if it’s smaller than you’re used to. “Had to lose some weight for Queer, remember? Luca didn’t want me looking like some action hero on this.”

You put on a look of exaggerated sympathy, patting his shoulder. “Aww, poor noodle-armed Drew. Must be so hard, not being the Hulk for once.”

He scoffs, but you can see the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Oh, no way,” you tease, leaning in and poking his arm again. “If you lose even one more ounce of muscle, I’m buying out the protein aisle and bringing it to set.” You pretend to squeeze his arm, making a show of struggling as if it’s the weakest thing in the world. “Seriously, who’s gonna protect me now? Or open all the jars?”

Drew smirks, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is that right?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his tone a playful challenge.

In one quick motion, he wraps an arm around your waist and effortlessly pulls you onto his lap, his fingers tightening around your hips as you let out a small squeal of surprise, laughing. “See? Noodles or not, I think I can still handle you just fine,” he says, a smug grin on his face as he holds you close.

You try to keep a straight face but can’t help the smile that’s tugging at your lips. “Hmm,” you say, tilting your head as if contemplating. “Maybe you’ve still got a little strength left in you. But I’m gonna keep a close watch. Just in case.”

Drew raises an eyebrow, feigning exasperation. “Oh, great. A personal bicep inspector. Exactly what I needed.”

You laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “Someone has to make sure you stay up to code, Starkey. You’re still my big, strong boyfriend, right? Don’t want anyone thinking I’m dating some scrawny little noodle boy.”

He lets out a laugh, his arm still firmly around you as his hand traces slow, comforting circles along your back. “Would it make you feel better if I promised to go back to the gym as soon as filming’s done? Maybe even lift double just to prove I’m still ‘your big, strong boyfriend’?”

“Maybe,” you say, narrowing your eyes with a smile. “But in the meantime, don’t be surprised if I start calling you ‘spaghetti arms.’”

Drew groans, dramatically rolling his eyes, but he’s laughing too, unable to keep a straight face. “Fine, fine, make fun of me all you want. Just remember who’s still carrying you around all day if he has to.” With that, he shifts his grip and effortlessly hoists you up, standing and cradling you against his chest as he walks toward the kitchen.

You burst out laughing, arms looping around his neck. “Oh, okay, maybe there’s still a little muscle left!” you say, gasping between giggles as he gently sets you down on the counter, his hands resting on either side of you.

“Exactly,” he says, leaning in close, his face just inches from yours, his voice softer now, teasing but affectionate. “No matter what, you’re still stuck with me.”

Your laughter fades as you look up at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Good,” you whisper, fingers gently brushing his cheek. “Because I wouldn’t want anyone else, noodle arms and all.”

Drew’s expression softens, his gaze lingering on yours as he cups your face, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. His hand trails down to your shoulder, pulling you closer until you’re wrapped up in his embrace, your laughter replaced by a comfortable, warm silence.

As he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, he chuckles, fingers idly tracing your arm. “I’ll get my biceps back,” he promises, his voice barely a whisper. “But for now, I guess you’ll just have to deal with ‘scrawny’ me.”

You grin, sliding your hands up his chest. “I’ll manage,” you say softly. “But just know I’m keeping an eye on those biceps. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll even give you a few compliments along the way.”

Drew laughs, kissing you again, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, with no need for words. Because no matter how many muscles he has—or doesn’t—you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than right here, with him.

[whiskeyskin]

Slow Down

Premise: Astarion discovers that disgustingly quick efficiency at sex, isn't always how everyone wants to enjoy it.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • M rating •

Astarion POV, gn!Tav, doggy, riding, slowing down, enjoyment, bloodplay/bloodlust, feral need, no mention of specific gentials.

2.7k words

Another blinder by @casualya 😙👌 you bless us daily with scrumptious pictures!

•°•°•

Astarion pumelled inside Tav, relentless and frenetic. The energetic pace and precise angle perfected over 200 years. A hand pressed down on the small of their back, the other pulling back on their hip.

This was his favourite position. Turned away; it was easier when they were turned away.

No eye contact. Less need for his practiced veneer. He could just 'get on with it' and be done quickly.

He could also pretend to 'clean himself off' while they were recovering from the earth shattering orgasm he'd just gave them. Keep up the charade till the end.

Their moans were rough, throaty and tense.

"You feel so good, darling." He parroted his old lines, "I want to come darling but I want you to come with me. Are you close for me?"

"Mm, not really." Tav admitted, an awkward tenseness in their voice. Astarion's thrust stuttered slightly, but continued.

He was ever a professional.

He blinked several times, furrowing his brow, "Do we need to change positions, love? I need to feel you come on my cock." He moaned through a bitten lip, slowing his pace.

Tav gave a pleasurable gasp, "Yes, please. It feels good, it's just-I find it difficult to come like this."

Astarion rolled his eyes behind their back, "Then we have to remedy that. Tonight is for out collective ecstasy, remember?" He crooned, gently extracting himself from inside them.

Irritated, Astarion pasted on his flawless veneer and recused himself from the situation, while his body piloted automatically.

Dissociating for him was like meditation, there were no thoughts. Nothingness. A great expanse of blackness and there he cocooned himself. Safe and removed inside.

His body had learned to respond to the stimuli around him, without needing him to be present.

Of course, some part of him was still present but not any part that mattered. No part that he hadn't painfully trained himself to repress and ignore.

There he waited for it to be over, in his safe pocket of void. Soundless. Wordless. Guiltless.

Of course this time would be different to his usual seductions. He would have to keep up a constant charade.

At the Palace, after the act, unlucky target would be taken away; to what they expected to be a bath, that would never come. However, if Cazador was feeling particularly cruel, he'd wrench them out, kicking and screaming before it was finished.

A foul part of him was grateful for it. That he didn't have to finish. That he didn't have to listen to their admissions of love, or satisfaction. Just their horrified screams, as a terrifying Vampire Lord threw them naked from the bed and dragged them behind him towards his study.

He would cower silently and stone-faced, as their blood-curdling howls would fade down the hallway, until the heavy doors shut. Even then his Vampiric hearing would pick up the sounds of panic and violence.

They'd beg him, plead with him, scream at him to help them, save them, intervene.. do something. But he never did. He never would. Never could. Not again.

Suddenly, an unexpected lurching motion tipped him over with a thud. Coming back to true consciousness, he blinked heavily as he realised he was splayed back on the forest floor.

Tav was holding his forearms over his head, "Told you I could." They smirked, slightly breathless.

"So you did. I'm impressed." Astarion replied, not missing a beat.

"I asked you to slow down, you didn't listen. So now, we're going to do this my way. So, you're going to lay back like a good pup and enjoy yourself. Got it?" There was assertiveness but amusement in their tone as they released his arms to reach between their bodies.

"I don't really think I have a choice." He tried to keep his voice steady but there was a wobble; he could hear it.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head, Astarion," he felt the tightness of their walls envelope him again, "Ahh.. it's our collective ecstasy, right?" They licked their bottom lip and placed their hands on his chest.

Astarion didn't answer. This was one of his least favourite positions.

He always felt exposed underneath someone face-to-face. Being giver, or receiver, it felt like he was close to scrutiny like this.

Still. In order to gain their trust further, and assure protection from Cazador - either by human shield, or sword - this was what he had to endure.

Tav began to rock on him, an easy, drawn out pace. Not at all like his urgent trists. He preferred a fast approach. To make them come as soon as possible. He had it down to a fine art but there were always outliers to any experiment.

Astarion grabbed their hips and tried to buck up but he was quickly thwarted.

"Uh-uh, not happening. We're going to slow down, and build this up nicely. Sex isn't about making people come quickly, it's about the journey together."

Tav placed their hands over Astarion's and slid them higher, to hold their waist. They rode him at what felt like a snail's pace, their hips fluidly rolling. Astarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

They took him from tip, to bottomed out tortuously slowly. And while it did feel good, it wasn't going to end soon.

Astarion huffed out in frustration but disguised it with contentment and lust.

Dissociation was peering over his shoulder, inviting him to step away and let it take the reigns.

"Ah, darling. That feels wonderful. Riding me like that."

"Sweet one, this isn't riding. This is the introduction, the prologue, the handshake. I know you're used to it fast, but just bare with me. Just enjoy the sensation."

He squeezed their waist and sighed, "Alright, I'll bite. Well, again." He smirked with an eyebrow flex to himself.

"Mm, that did feel good. Bet it tasted better."

"It did," Astarion relented, "You are rather delicious."

"Better than the bear that got you drunk?"

"Yes, you taste far sweeter than a bear. Satisfied?" He teased, thrusting upwards to meet them. The corners of his vision began to settle and fuzz.

"Slowly." Tav breathed, using their hips to control his speed, "Tell me what I taste like."

His vision cleared and he blinked.

What a question.

One that pulled him back from the edge of nothingness, back to Tav's face above him.

What did they taste like?

It wasn't something he recognised. It wasn't a flavour, it was almost a feeling.

"You taste so sweet, darling. Like honeyed fruits." He placated, keening for good measure.

"The way you suck on my neck doesn't say that. What do I really taste like?"

His face twitched, "I don't know if I could put it into words." He lied, pinching his lips in frustration. At both the questions and the intrusion into his coping mechanism.

"Try."

He couldn't contain his eye roll this time but played off as teasing, "Um, you taste amazing. Like nothing I've ever tasted before."

Tav remained silent, still rocking themselves on his cock. Astarion felt compelled to continue.

"You taste like.. rich wine and sweet fruits.. like summer berries fresh from the bushel, like warm days by the riverside, like splashing in the cool water." He began, unsure where it would go.

Tav's pace increased slightly, harder pressure pushing him into the ground.

"Good man, that's better. What else do I taste like?" Their hands wandered his chest as they moved on him, languid strokes from root to tip.

Something akin to a shooting sensation buzzed from his pelvis. It was unfamiliar, but not unknown.

Enjoyment.

He allowed himself to indulge in their question, "You taste like sunshine and freedom, like the moment before lightning hits," jolts of electricity zappped to his tightening groin, "Your blood tastes like everything I miss from my mortal life, it's like the smell of warm rain quenching dry earth. The feeling of purest limitlessness."

The words left his mind and flew through his mouth before he had time to comprehend how foolish it sounded. But Gods, every word was true. Feeding freely on Thinking blood was a rush that had no competition. But feeding from Tav, was something else entirely.

Tav began bouncing, rippling their spine and hips to pound against him. Bringing a hand to play with themselves illiciting a soft whine.

They looked at him through a hot stare, pinning him to the floor, then looked down to their bodies. Astarion followed their gaze.

If he had breath to steal, it would have been willingly surrendered. Seeing their meeting, the sight of his pale cock, covered in slick, disappearing inside them. Their hand teasing their own release, the other pressed low against is abdomen.

Their soft flesh bounced against the momentum of their riding, he could feel the jiggle beneath his hands.

"When you feed on me it feels like dancing with adrenaline itself. My whole body feels alive but numb at the same time. I can feel you, can feel my blood pumping through your body. I can feel me within you, surrendering to you," Astarion's grip tightened, pressing bruises into their rolling hips.

"You could drain me dry, and leave me for dead and I'd still beg you for one more bite. To feel like that again. It's worth a little death." They smiled coyly down at him, tracing their fingertips against his lips, parting them to reveal his fangs.

Astarion about choked on his own saliva, through a wanton gasp.

A devilish glint sparked in their eye, as they tested the sharpness on the pad of their index finger. They gave a short gasp of pain as it punctured their skin.

Astarion's tongue instinctively flicked against the small rivulets of blood out of desperation. The taste of blood, combined with the pleasure of sex, unlocked some feral part of him that had been dormant for an age.

Groaning and baring his teeth, he slid a possessive hand up their sternum, and felt their heart hammering through their chest. He suckled on the tip of their finger as they rode him but it wasn't enough.

The thought of their hot, sweet, delicious blood pumping through their body. Blood that engorged their swollen sex. Blood that would sustain him, nourish him, make him feel happiness. A happiness he had barely been able to explain since their first feed.

Tav laid their other hand on top of his, "Can you feel how hard my heart's beating? How much I want this? How much I want you, Astarion?" They keened, as their eyes met in passionate gaze.

A noise that didn't quite come from the sane part of his mind erupted from his chest as he felt Tav squeeze his cock with their inner walls.

Astarion desperately gripped their hips and tried to wrap one arm around their body.

"More.. more." He moaned, roughly.

"Blood, or sex."

"Both." He spluttered, frantically clawing at them, sitting up to re-arrange the pose, "Both!"

"Yes, yes." They uttered, breathless.

Pressed body to body, buried deep inside, Astarion sank his fangs into the slope of their chest.

Hot, delicious blood spurted into his mouth, coating his tongue and throat, as he took long pulls and swallowed them down.

The sensation was overwhelming, their life force rushing around his undead body, their walls squeezed tightly around him. He could feel the ministrations of their hand stimulating their release between their slicked bodies.

Tav gasped and moaned against his ear, which they gently nipped and licked on.

Astarion's eyes rolled back into his head, as his jaw tightened, biting harder. He was paralyzed with an overabundance of pleasure, rendering him inert as Tav shot out a cry and continued bouncing down on his cock.

Their pace became erratic, breath hitching as they gasped against the cool night air. Rabid cries of ecstasy echoed through the night as Tav's orgasm hit them.

Small, tense noises roughly eeked from his throat, as a sudden tightening gripped what was left of his soul like a vice, before a violent torrent of orgasmic energy flooded through him. His head jerked back, blood dripping down his chin. Chest hollowing, his eyes found Tav's, connecting them in the moment at the centre of the storm.

The world stilled for the briefest of moments, filled with the warmth of their gaze.

A cry of rapture died in his crimson coated throat and he came inside them, painting their walls with his seed. Tav bottomed out as he filled them to the brim with his cum, rocking their hips against him, over and over, coaxing every last drop.

"Agh, stop please.. mercy." He whined, as his head hit their shoulder, wrung dry from overstimulation.

He still smelled their blood from where he'd not shown enough care, in his hedonistic state, to stem the flow. He thought to cover it with his hand, but Tav had beaten him to it, still holding him upright with the other.

They softly leaned forward to lay him back down on the bedroll, in which he thunked back, gracelessly.

Half-hard and still inside them, his head swimming with the afterglow of his unexpected orgasm, Astarion tried to descend back to Faerûn.

Tav's blood was pumping through his ears, the loud whooshing noise drowning out the insect nightlife that crowded this part of the woods.

A quick kiss touched the tip of his nose, then he felt Tav extracte themself off him and lay beside him. The cold night air now stark and unwelcome, when compared to their warmth.

"Now that was collective ecstasy." Tav said finally, with a wearied but playful lilt.

"Mhm." He replied, unable to apply his brain back into conversation. He heard them moving around to grab a cloth for their puncture marks and a little clean up.

Several moments passed him by, staring up into the darkened starlit sky. He felt he was still up there, in the Astral, after the viciousness of cumming that hard - and after so long.

A pair of soft lips traced over his shoulder, peppering the area with kisses, and for the first time in over two decades; he didn't feel the urge to flinch.

"Are you still with us, Astarion?"

He shook his head, "Unfortunately not."

"Oh, dear."

"I'm quite unavailable for conversation at this moment in time."

Tav giggled softly, "Was it the combination of feeding and ear fondling that tipped the scales for you there? I know you were rolling your eyes when I slowed the pace down. I'd heard ear stimulation was part of Elven foreplay, I thought it would add a little something for you." Tav discarded the bloodied cloth, to join the one stained with cum and rolled onto their side to face him.

"It did." He nodded, angling his face to them. He found his new marks on their skin, they were a lot more vicious than those he'd made on their neck, evidence of his animalistic need. "It's never quite felt like that." He admitted, feeling a little sheepish.

"I told you. It's the journey that gets you to the destination." Tav smiled down at him, leaning on one hand, the other resting on his chest.

"That you did." Astarion felt embarrassment creeping up the sides of his neck and flushing his cheeks, as he felt the true gravity of how low he'd left his defences.

"Astarion, are you blushing?" Tav tucked their chin in, shocked.

He turned the corners of his mouth down in disgust, "Of course not! Vampire's don't blush. We don't have any blood." He pointed out.

"Well, you do right now and that's definitely a rosy tinge in your cheeks." They teased, rubbing their nose against the aforementioned red cheeks.

Astarion flinched away, "Stop." He snapped, frowning.

Tav held up their palm, "Alright, I'm sorry. You're not blushing, it's just a trick of the light. Astarion, the Rakeish Vampire-Spawn, does not blush."

"Certainly not, perish the thought. You're delirious with the after effects. The lack of blood has gone to your head." He pouted vehemently, recoiling from the thought he'd actually enjoyed himself.

Enjoyed the sex he'd used them for, that it hadn't been anything more than what it needed to be; a tool in his arsenal of manipulations.

Blushing? He was blushing?! Gods below.

"And the missing blood has gone straight to yours." They teased.

Astarion glared at them but only half meant it. He was still too happy to be miserable. But he had no doubt that the ravages of self-loathing and despair wouldn't give him restbite for long. He may as well enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

"I can promise you, that blood is headed only one place and intends to make you scream like that at least another twice before morning. Especially now I know exactly how you like it," He moaned, pushing them over effortlessly, "This journey isn't over yet, darling."

•°•°•

[sarnai4]

Pleasing to the Eye

Something I have noticed is that the animation involving Tai Lung is gorgeous! Even down to how the colors in his character design are great.

It's so smart. The colors work anyway since snow leopards naturally have gray fur, but the blue tone paired with the yellowish-orange eyes works with complementary colors. It gives us cool and warm colors together so that his eyes pop. At least for me, my gaze is drawn to them because of the color contrasting so much.

The scenes he's in know how to capitalize on warm and cool colors too. Just check out this blue prison with the reds from the light. Adds such neat depth and makes it just feel bigger.

This is built upon here where he gets an outline made of red to contrast with his overall color.

This beautiful scene can't be forgotten about. I don't always love slow motion since it can be overused, but this was a marvelous place for it to be put 😙👌! He's already got the blue tone and then there's the bright blue fire (which is hotter than red fire anyway, so extra fun) that even has a bit of yellow near his "fingers" that then match with how brightly his yellow eyes are glowing.

Another super pretty scene with no warm colors. It reflects the situation too. There are no warm feelings at this point. Just cold ruthlessness. (Plus, the fire looks so neat as it flies off his fists!)

And last, but certainly not least, this scene. Come on! The lightning flashes in the background, how the impact of the hut is felt through seeing the destroyed roof, the actual bolts of lightning! Not even to mention how the flash adds such cool lighting and shading on Tai Lung and Shifu here.

So, in all, thank you, amazing animators for giving me something to love.

[turneradora]

For the International KISS DAY ❤️💋💋

Our beloved Poldark couple

The most tender, delicate, sensual, romantic KISS in slow motion 👌💋💋

[artaxlivs]

really looking forward to drummer Steve, your post about it was 👌👌👌

I'm so glad you liked it. Honestly, everyone's responses are why it's become a full fledged fic. And it's already raging out of control. I'm hyperfixating. I have no shame over it though. Here's a new snippet:

His head is banging, hair floppy where it’s lost its bounce from hours of sweaty practice in Gareth’s hot garage. His white and blue polo pulls tight against his biceps, his clean white sneakers are tapping on the baseboards and Eddie is driving so slow because he can’t keep his eyes on the road for fear he might miss something. The drums drop out for a guitar riff and Steve spins first one then the other drumstick, going back to tap and thrum before spinning again, fingers flipping and twirling the sticks as the lights from the streetlights spill into the van windows every few seconds to light up his long fingered hands. But then he comes in with the vocals. And Steve Harrington can fucking sing, too. He can sing and he can spin his drumsticks while he drums like a fucking dream and Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t think. He can’t remember why this is not something he’s already doing. In slow motion, he pulls the van over, puts it in park and cups the back of Steve’s head, bringing him around. With his other hand tangled up in the collar of Steve’s shirt, he hauls him over and brings their mouths crashing together.

Thank you for asking!

[lyrakanefanatic]

Okay so phone girl and Grayson have still not left the crevices of my brain, so here are some songs I think would fit them (yes they’re mostly by taylor swift, don’t judge 😒)

- I can see you: by Taylor swift I feel like that would fit their professional vibe so well (In the case that phone girl gets picked for the games) like “and we kept everything professional but somethings changed, something i i like” would be them i just have a feeling 🤭

- cardigan by Taylor Swift : not only is this Graysons song but imagine it would also be grayson AND phone girls song?? also the lyric “you drew stars around my scars, but now I’m, bleeding” would be perfect because imagine phone girl is dealing with the grief of losing her father and then grayson trying to help her??? 👌

midnight rain by Taylor swift: there is absolutely no way this wouldn’t be their song (btw for these im assuming she got picked for the games)

“My boy was a montage, that slow motion, love potion, jumping off things in the ocean” Grayson is literally the definition of “slow motion love potion.” Also “jumping off things in the ocean” is pretty self explanatory iykyk 💀💀

“It came like a postcard, picture perfect, shiny family, holiday peppermint candy, but for him it was everyday” is phone girl when she comes to the island and sees how RICH those mfs are

Gorgeous by Taylor swift: THIS IS LITERALLY THEIR SONG TOO LMAOO

“You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong” his magnetic field is DEFINITELY way too strong 💀

“But you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much” i can definitely see her trying to deny the fact that she likes him 😭😭

“You ruined my life, by not being mine” okay for this one I can’t rlly explain it but basically his family technically ruined her life, but add a romantic twist

“You’re so gorgeous, i cant say anything to your face, cause look at your face, you’re gorgeous” I know phone girl is definitely crushing on him hard because of his looks 💀💀

“Ocean blue eyes, looking in mine, i feel like i might, sink and drown and die” she definitely is enchanted by his ocean orbs 🤪

Ready for it by Taylor Swift: okay so I can’t explain this one too much but basically I feel like the vibe would fit them and also the lyric “baby let the games begin” would work SO well because the games??? And the games would be beginning in tgg???

there’s defo more but idk so feel free to say any songs u feel would fit them 🫶🫶

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

So here's the thing: I'm not religious whatsoever, and usually I'm neutral at best when it comes to "traditional"/religious Christmas songs. Like on the odd occasion I might hear a decent performance of one, like O Holy Night or Silent Night for example, and I'll be like "yeah alright", but I don't usually go search them up to relisten to them, y'know?

But then, on the 4th of December, 2021, Geoff released his cover of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, and MY. GOODNESS. Undeniably one of the most epic Christmas carol performances I've ever heard (besides most versions of Carol Of The Bells of course).

So anyway, there's probably a lot more to say on the musical arrangement than the video, but I didn't wanna skip over this one entirely, and tbh this is one of my favourite videos for examples of Geoff's self-conducting motions and hand gestures, so I really wanna talk about some of that, and show off some of the cool lighting stuff as well! (Credit to Eli for lighting design!)

So anyway, let's get into this!

This video was filmed at PattyCake Studios, though presumably using a set/backdrop that doesn't get used a lot otherwise, because I don't recognise it from anything else! (EDIT: according to the amazingly-knowledgeable and very helpful Jules-has-notes, "the backdrop was one of the standing sets at the old PattyCake studio...VP used it in their video for "You're My Best Friend" with Deejay, but the set dressing and lighting were pretty different.")

Double credit to Eli for the lighting design, because look how cool this looks already, with the variety of colours that we're getting from lighting in the background! Whiteish-purple, green, blue, orange, and purple-pink! And I love how there's enough in the background to make it interesting and to "fill out the space" without drawing your attention away entirely!

Lights up!

I don't know exactly what that shirt thing is per se, but man it looks so cool

This video has at least a couple moments of the "Geoff Clones" noticeably mirroring each other in their motions, like in Shenandoah and Unshaken, but there are also quite a few moments (like before this, in the "slow build-up section" in fact) where different Geoffs are doing different motions to indicate which of them are singing which vocal parts (e.g. higher stuff vs lower stuff)

"Now to the lord sing praises..."

Very quick lighting/colour change on the curtains!

"Holy tide of Christmas, all others doth deface!"

Lighting/colour change on the curtains again! A warmer orange now!

(Also again notice how the clones on the left and right ends are doing the same thing, but the clone second from the left is doing something different!)

"Woah, tidings of comfort and joy"

(I love the cheeky little side-eye he does here, it's kinda cute <3)

Another quick lighting change!

I love the way Geoff so often includes moments of "Lead Geoff" and The Clones looking at each other - it's such a simple thing to include, but it's also such an easy thing to not bother doing or not even consider doing. But these little moments definitely add a little something-something(tm) to the videos 💜👌

"Cooommmforrrt aaand joyyyyy"

Up, right, down, up. What is this, the Konami Code for subharmonics/bass notes? 😝

"JOYYYYYY!"

And back to darkness for the end!

I probably could have included even more moments to talk about but tbh screenshots don't always do it justice, and I can't be bothered figuring out how to make gifs. But I hope this gave you some amusement anyway, and I promise you the next post is absolutely gonna be a fun one! Until next time!

[lowsodiumscifi]

Call of Duty headcanons - "141's favorite first person shooters" (cod not included 😉)

There were way too many shooters to choose from, so I tried to pick the ones that would suit them the best.

John Price - Halo

Price is definitely an X-Box man for sure.

Space guns, light swords and sleek armor

Literally the military in space!!

If anyone were to lead a platoon into battle in space, it would be Price.

He would make an amazing spartan. No joke!

Price and Laswell have a Master Chief and Cortana relationship, and that's wholesome 👌

Be prepared for some salty Halo lobby rants online lmfao. Price will sit back and watch the chaos unfold.

John "Soap" MacTavish - Deathloop

Soap would definitely be an artist, and anything Cedric Peyravernay is a part of, soap will love. Love, death and robots? Check✔️ Dishonoured? Check✔️ Deathloop? You betcha!

Soap does crazy combos with the multitude of powers and guns.

The old timey level design, character design and colour schemes are Soap's aesthetic.

It's crazy groundhog day premise is nutty, and to be honest, so is Soap lol

Simon "Ghost" Riley - Metal: Hellsinger

Rhythm shooters? Ghost lives for them.

Ghost gets in the zone on the battlefield. But nothing compares to playing Metal: Hellsinger.

Ghost is a pretty metal guy. So gunning down enemies to many metal band singers in the soundtrack is perfect for him!

He will get a song stuck in his head while in the field, start humming the tune and it drives the rest of the team insane.

Once Ghost gets to the final boss, and SOAD's Serj Tankian starts singing "No Tomorrow", he cranks the volume to eleven and the whole base is Headbanging 🤟

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - F.E.A.R

Science experiments, crazy slow motion telepathic powers, creepy little girl ghosts. F.E.A.R has it all.

Gaz loves this dying franchise and it's crazy sci fi shenanigans!

Will definitely play the game with the lights on, and on the hardest difficulty.

The 141 tease him about playing horror games. The boys always making Gaz jump in the middle of playing by scaring him shitless.

[milla-frenchy]

Wow!!! This dark!Javi fic is so good, I loved the vibes, you wrote him so perfectly 👌😍😍

He heads the Cali operation with a boldness and confidence that pushes the limits of the diplomatic courtesy extended by his Columbian hosts.  Running missions and chasing leads that leave no slack on the legal reins handed to him by the US government.  He’s brash, brave, and reckless – ferocious in his pursuit of justice, almost daring the wings of Lady Luck who rides into battle with him to fail them both.

That's him 😍😍 that's Javi 😍😍

And the worst part is, they had let him continue and go through the motions of putting the Rodriguez brothers behind bars, letting him think he had actually accomplished something when in reality, he had only played the role of clueless puppet in the ruin of innocent lives.  It made Javier sick, and he left the DEA jaded and cynical.

This is so good. That's the end of season 3 Javi 👌🥹

He’s back to doing what he needs to: hunting down the remnants of the Cali mafia that had entrenched themselves in New York City and carrying out the government’s stated directive against all drugs - marijuana, heroin, steroids. 

Javi the hunter, ooooooooof. I love it so much!! And it's hot af, too 😏😏

By night, Javier hunts alone. 

Hot 😏😏😏

The judgment and retribution Javier dispenses is fearsome and precise.  Choosing targets that he knows will inflict immeasurable damage during the time it will take the DEA to bring them to justice (if ever), he methodically crosses off the names on a too-long list one by one. They never know he’s coming for them until it’s too late. 

Damn. I could read 15 chapters of this

He almost likes it when they fight back – giving him permission to discard any restraint he might have been exercising over his savagery in the name of efficiency.  With every blow he lands and every vital organ he guts, Javier feels like he’s fighting for them all: Carrillo, President Gaviria, Helena, Christina, sweet little Olivia’s mother, freaking Puff the cat.  Fighting for them now like he should have fought for them back in Columbia.

Damn. Fuck yeah.😍😍

He fell for you hard and fast, head over heels since the day he saw you buying a hotdog from the vendor outside the DEA’s downtown office.  Chain-smoking away the stress induced by the bureaucratic red tape he had waiting for him upstairs, Javi watched in slow motion as a mugger took advantage of your attempts to balance your belongings with your lunch – violently grabbing your purse off your arm.  His fists clenched instinctively and he was about to leap into action when you rendered him unnecessary - karate chopping the perp with your briefcase without a drop of mustard falling from your hotdog.

Wow she's a fn badaaaaaa 🫠🫠🫠

And that ending omg!!! I didn't see it coming, it's perfect 🤌👌

I really love this universe you created, Emily 😍😍😍

Freya's mood board is beautiful, but I also love the pics and gif you used 🙏

Dodge

2.9K / Vigilante AU Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javier Pena does in New York City what he could not in Columbia.

Warnings: AU set after canon events of Season 3. Maybe a wee bit dark but wasn’t Narcos hella dark sometimes? Mention of violence and weapons. Implied ambiguous powers. Established relationship, brief allusion to smut (1). No nicknames in this one! (So weird for me 😂)

A/N: Vigilante AU is the brainchild of the brilliant @almostfoxglove, who inspires constantly with her beautiful moodboards.  Here’s the one for Vigilante!Javi and it’s the entire reason this fic exists - thank you, Freya my dearest 😘😘

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘

⬇️ Barely edited and mainly just vibes 🫣

Dodged a bullet.  It was just a saying.

Or was it?

For a very long time, Javier thought he was just a very lucky man. 

Though he did not realize it at the time, for the entirety of his career Javier had held his proverbial breath waiting for that luck to run out - but it never did.  When he thinks back to all the Medellin fire fights he’s been caught in, his involvement with Los Pepes (that he’s still not sure he regrets completely), the tense relationship he struck up with Don Berna, and all the times Escobar’s scheming and machinations could have easily rendered him collateral damage, he can’t help but marvel at how many actual and metaphorical bullets he’s dodged.

And if he was to renumerate on it further, he might even count his political tangling with Stechner, his role in Elisa’s escape, and (if he was really honest about it) his almost marriage to Lorraine, as near misses.

While not unscathed and usually worst for the wear, Javier Pena has always landed on his feet.

He had never questioned it before.

But now he decides to test it.

When he miraculously evades any major consequences for his “alleged” partnership with Los Pepes, dodging the treason charges that Judy Moncada had almost gleefully laid at his doorstep before her exile, Javier cannot ignore the brushing feathers of some higher power looking out for him.  By the time his deposition in the matter some how lands him a promotion as the DEA's US attaché to Columbia in charge of the fight against the Cali cartel, Javier is certain of its presence.

He heads the Cali operation with a boldness and confidence that pushes the limits of the diplomatic courtesy extended by his Columbian hosts.  Running missions and chasing leads that leave no slack on the legal reins handed to him by the US government.  He’s brash, brave, and reckless – ferocious in his pursuit of justice, almost daring the wings of Lady Luck who rides into battle with him to fail them both.

The way Agent Pena works is not without frustration or devastation; he wins some, he loses more - but at the end of it all, he remains standing.

Javier is almost afraid to put a name to it.  To call it luck seems almost derivative of this protection that he’s inexplicably been afforded.  Enhanced self preservation?  An uncanny ability to evade major bodily harm or danger to his person and livelihood?  It doesn’t matter - after Cali Javier knows that he is someone’s god’s favourite.

The price of this so-called gift appears to be guilt.  Guilt that he was unable to extend this unmerited favour, that he could not invite others to join him under its umbrella of safety.  That he wielded no additional power to protect those that needed protecting was a source of deep shame and anguish that Javier wrestles with on a daily basis.

While he remained relatively intact, Javier could not say the same for the more deserving fellow officers with whom he had the honour of serving alongside: brave Columbian policemen, incorruptible members of Search Bloc, his friends. Carrillo.

What was the point?  Why him?  Avoiding the direst of consequences for only himself, but unable to prevent the same suffering for others feels like a curse at times.

The months after the downfall of the Cali cartel that Javier spends at Chucho’s ranch is supposed to bring him peace in working the land, being with family.  But he cannot find peace.  Not when there had been so many causalities and lives destroyed back in Columbia, and he had learned from Stechner, of all people, that it had all been for naught.

Agent Pena had played fair and abided by Uncle Sam’s rules, and it hadn’t mattered at all.  Unseen political powers were playing a different global game and with their long reaching arms of corruption, swept all of Javier and the DEA’s strategically placed game pieces off the board before the game had even started.  And the worst part is, they had let him continue and go through the motions of putting the Rodriguez brothers behind bars, letting him think he had actually accomplished something when in reality, he had only played the role of clueless puppet in the ruin of innocent lives.  It made Javier sick, and he left the DEA jaded and cynical.

How could he be at peace when those that made the rules didn’t have to play by them, and through hubris and indifference allowed the destructive cycle of the drug trade to rage on endlessly?

But Javier didn’t have to play by the rules, did he?  He had something on his side that allowed him to push the boundaries of the rigged game - but he couldn’t push if he didn’t play.

So, to Chucho’s disappointment, Javier leaves for New York City to seek out his old boss; not for the first time, bureaucratic politics works in his favour and Messina hands Special Agent Pena a new title: Head of the DEA’s NYC field office. 

Javier will never know what strings Messina pulled to get him back in, but he never had any doubt of her success - confident now that when it really matters, fortune will favour Javier Pena.  He’s back to doing what he needs to: hunting down the remnants of the Cali mafia that had entrenched themselves in New York City and carrying out the government’s stated directive against all drugs - marijuana, heroin, steroids.  It’s not easy work by any means, but somehow, he feels at more at home weeding out stateside trafficking networks and shutting down home grown labs in the five boroughs than he did those months he spent in Laredo.

By day, Agent Pena hunts the scourge of the city with the aid of his team of talented agents, all eager to make a difference and brimming with strong moral fibre.  He can’t quite bring himself to destroy their faith in the system that he now knows actively works against them and their efforts.  He allows them to fight the good fight so that they can go home and sleep at night in a way that Javier almost doesn’t remember anymore.  Wiretaps, stakeouts, informant deals, raids and busts – all done by the book, slow going and above board. 

By night, Javier hunts alone.  Armed with the intel collected via those same formal and official channels of his government day job, he sets out to informally and unofficially deal with cartel and drug trade players under the cover of dark.  Hats off to you, Uncle Sam.

The judgment and retribution Javier dispenses is fearsome and precise.  Choosing targets that he knows will inflict immeasurable damage during the time it will take the DEA to bring them to justice (if ever), he methodically crosses off the names on a too-long list one by one.

They never know he’s coming for them until it’s too late.  They don’t know that this vigilante leverages intel painstakingly gathered and vetted by DEA resources in the only way it will ever be truly effective; that he’s more than acquainted with their whereabouts and routine movements.  Their executioner has memorized all of their weaknesses and vulnerabilities before they even know they’re on his chopping block.  They don’t know that the masked avenger stalks through the night and scales building without fear or hesitation, imbued with a confidence that can only come with doing the right thing, and something else that all but guarantees his success.

The investigative and strategic mind that serves Javier as an officer of the law remains his most trusted weapon when he’s off the clock.  He tirelessly pours over surveillance data, building and city plans – identifying single point entrances and exits, quick escape routes, and areas where there will be no witnesses… or civilian casualties.  Never again will Javier Pena allow the pursuit of a criminal to hurt another innocent.

He finds that he’s partial to knives and blades, avoiding firearms completely for his nighttime pursuits.  From Javier’s experience, guns are too easy traced unless he were to engage with the illegal arms trade, and there are some lines he’s still unwilling to cross.  Guns are the weapons of the loud and arrogant, the sometimes ignorant – knives obey only skill and discretion.

But his preference is to use his hands.  Every time Javier feels the crush of bones or the splitting of flesh beneath his fists, his chest fills with pride and accomplishment.  The splattering of blood and the swollen, mangled bodies of his targets after he’s through with them become like therapeutic art; his hands are his chosen instrument and he paints his canvas for the evening with bloodshed and barbarism, expressing his bottled-up fury at his past failures and the grief he still keeps buried deep for those he’s lost.

Even the squelching of the red sticky liquid that pools out from where his blades land true and the gurgling of blood-filled mouths become welcomed melodies to his ears.  The final desperate gasping for air and the crunch of shattering bones act as the percussion section of a violent orchestra – one that Javier that conducts with the passion of a musician who’s finally found his muse.

He almost likes it when they fight back – giving him permission to discard any restraint he might have been exercising over his savagery in the name of efficiency.  With every blow he lands and every vital organ he guts, Javier feels like he’s fighting for them all: Carrillo, President Gaviria, Helena, Christina, sweet little Olivia’s mother, freaking Puff the cat.  Fighting for them now like he should have fought for them back in Columbia.

His actions do not go wholly unnoticed.  The DEA picks up chatter about a masked vigilante who seems to only target drug lords and narcotics organizations, one who seemingly appears out of nowhere to strike deadly and crippling blows to the cartels before disappearing without a trace.  It sounds like something straight out of a comic book.  A few news outlets run a couple of pieces on him, but the NYPD and federal agencies are all too overwhelmed by this War on Drugs™ that Javier knows they’ll never win, to look a gift horse in the mouth.  For now, the hunter does not become the hunted.  Once again, luck favours Javier Pena.

Though he is satisfied with his ongoing results, Javier is nowhere near immortal or indestructible.  He bleeds and bruises, his ribs crack and his knuckles split.  He’s constantly dog-tired and concussed, every part of him is scraped and achy, but he heals.  He’s alive. 

Each poorly set bone break and new scar carved onto Javier’s body is worn with pride – collected like trophies that fuel the fire of his resolve and righteousness. 

He doesn’t feel the guilt anymore.

The only time self reproach creeps up on him is when Javi lies to you.  He feels the low stir of something uncomfortable in his chest when he claims to be going on a DEA nighttime raid and your sweet response is to tell him to be careful and wish him back to you soon.  It feels even worse when he slips out of your warm, safe bed while you remain unaware and asleep like an innocent angel, and it surges hot and shameful when he slips back under the covers while it’s still dark and you welcome him, soft and inviting, oblivious to the violence and brutality that now clings to his naked skin.

He should leave you be, let the goodness you radiant remain unsullied by his darkness, but he can’t.  He fell for you hard and fast, head over heels since the day he saw you buying a hotdog from the vendor outside the DEA’s downtown office.  Chain-smoking away the stress induced by the bureaucratic red tape he had waiting for him upstairs, Javi watched in slow motion as a mugger took advantage of your attempts to balance your belongings with your lunch – violently grabbing your purse off your arm.  His fists clenched instinctively and he was about to leap into action when you rendered him unnecessary - karate chopping the perp with your briefcase without a drop of mustard falling from your hotdog.  He’s amazed, amused, tickled – a litany of light and joyous emotions Javi had forgotten were possible.  He comes over to ensure the would-be mugger doesn’t retaliate and asks if you’re okay; he swears the smile you give him is more dangerous than Escobar himself ever was.

You’re the most perfect thing in Javi’s life and the only thing he has just for himself.  You play no role in his quest to snuff out the insidiousness that sinks its teeth deeper and deeper into this city everyday, and unlike the women of his past, you aren’t an atonement for his previous complacency and deep seeded regrets.  You just let him be – and he’s just Javi to you, not Agent Pena or even Javier.  Just Javi with whom you happily wile away hours talking about nothing and everything, who holds you when you cry to sappy movies, who you convince to try every ramen joint on the island of Manhattan, who pulls the most stomach caving, soul shaking orgasms from you.  In return, you give him a new peace – one where his nightmares end with soft and loving arms hugging him awake, where the confessions of his past misdeeds and failures in Columbia aren’t met with pity or judgment but with compassion and tenderness; a peace that seems to know no end - entangling and weaving its delicate and ever-growing tendrils with something that reminds Javi of hope.  You give him a peace he didn’t know was possible for someone like him, and one that he’s not sure he deserves.  Javi loves you.  But he lies to you.

He thinks, no, he knows, that one day it will all come to a head - the people he hunts as DEA, the vigilante justice he dispenses at night, and the life he’s come to treasure in the home he’s built with you.  And when that time inevitably comes, Javi hopes – prays - that whatever grace has deigned to keep him from succumbing to fates suffered by many better men than he, will once again come to his aid and prevent him from losing what’s truly important, what makes his life worth living.

That time might be tonight.

The evening has been wonderfully typical, bellies full, you and Javi are on your way to try a new ice cream place for dessert when you hear two gunshots ring out.  Then more shots in rapid succession as sirens approach.  Javi pushes you down behind some parked cars - finding a safe line a sight from which he assesses the situation to ensure that the two of you are a safe distance away before properly reading the scene. 

With some weariness, Javi realizes he’s played a role in what’s happening in front of him.  Two nights ago, he took out the numbers man and head of security for the remnant of one of Pacho’s old distribution networks.  It seems a local gang has decided to take advantage of the sudden power vacuum and take the territory by force.  But with the NYPD now arrived on scene, the rival gangs unite against their common enemy, and Javi counts four, five, police officers currently being pinned down behind their patrol cars by round after round of gunfire.

He should help.  But he doesn’t have a firearm on him and his DEA badge alone isn’t going to do any good.  He could pretend he’s a citizen, but that would never fly – for all the same reasons he wears a mask during his nightly crusades, Javi knows he would be identified sooner or later, and without some flexibility to do what’s needed, he would likely find himself pinned under a hail of bullets like his brothers in blue.

And you.  How could he leave you?  You must be so scared right now.  He looks over to you and to his shock, not only do you look calm and determined, you’re holding out the black cashmere scarf that you’ve unwound from your neck, offering it to him in your open hands.

Javi looks at down the scarf, then up at you – confused, stunned.

Pushing your scarf towards him, you give your brave boyfriend a wise and reassuring smile, “Take it, Javi.  You need to cover your face, don’t you?”

It takes Javi more time than the situation affords him to comprehend what you’re saying.  How long have you known?  His world is simultaneously eerily still yet wildly spinning, with you at its calm centre.  Wordlessly, Javi takes your scarf and wraps it swiftly around his head until only his eyes remain exposed, securing the ends with a tight knot against the back of his head so his makeshift mask doesn’t slip.

Your eyes now wide and worried, you nonetheless press a confident kiss to Javi’s lips through the luxurious fabric, “I’ll be fine, I promise.  Go and be careful, my love.”

Feeling Javi return your affections and the air of something like ‘thank you’ puff through the soft wool against your lips, you hold steady the look of adoration and devotion in his chocolate brown eyes with one of your own before you see them turn towards the ongoing cacophony of bullets with a steely resolve. 

Holding your breath, you watch your Javi slip into the night.  “Come back to me,” you whisper, unaware that you’ve already been gifted the promise of his safe return. 

[honestreviewsblog]

Tale of the Nine Tailed Kdrama - A Fan's Journey (with spoilers)

Ep 1-4

It's been so long I can't even remember some parts of it cos we watched it before but stopped watching by the end of ep 4. Probably because we just can't understand Yeon's obsession with Ah-Eum??

Ep 5-6

It has a slow pace but it also feels like their relationship is going way too fast?? You get what I mean? I'm so curious about Yoori's identity tho cos I feel like that's one of the things that they haven't discussed as thoroughly as Shinju's and the fox bros obvs. So I'm definitely really waiting on that being revealed.

I'm so curious about the fox marble as well. I've watched a couple of gumiho kdramas in the past (My GF is a Gumiho, Gu Family Book, My Roommate is a Gumiho, to name a few) and the "bead" or in this case I think is the "marble" has to be really important. It played a pivotal role in MGFIAG so I'm kinda scared that Ji-Ah still hasn't told Yeon that she exchange the marble for his freedom.

Ep 7-9

Am I the only one who feels like everything is painstakingly slow?? To be honest I just wanna know more about Rang and I'm watching this because I'm just really curious about Rang.

10-12

OMGG bb boii Rang was stabbed by Yuri when she was hypnotized by the serpent skskskskks. The ending was sksksksksksks WTHH. I have so many questions.

13-16

I forgot to update this omg hahahaha. Anyway, we finished it and I still can't believe Rang died. Like—I STILL CAN'T. It's so unfair 😭 To be honest, I didn't really cry much when Lee Yeon died (sorry I just know he's gonna live I've watched season 2 first) so when he died I was just like, "Well, okay get a move on" but dammit nothing absolutely nothing prepared me for Rang dying in exchange for his brother being reincarnated. Like sht that hurt so bad, I cried buckets. Especially bcs, he's finally getting his happy ending now?? He has a family, he has people he wanted to take care of, it's so cruel 😭 I just wanna cry to the writers of the show and tell them, "WHYYY it's so unfair!! Just bcs he's not the main protagonist?? He gets to be killed off like that?? How could you" 😭 Even though I absolutely know deep down that Rang dying is part of his redemption arc.

By the way, those 3 days where everybody's dying is soooo unnecessary to be honest. All those people killed off by the serpent and for what?? To be honest, I can totally see Old Lady's point—it wasn't executed well (I mean at least have a conversation first with Lee Yeon and try to work things out before you jump and change a person's lifeline for goodness sake!!) but it really is unfair for all those people to be killed off bcs of his personal goal. I know some part of my rant might be a bit unfair for the main couple and the serpent is definitely the one to be blamed but just that unfairness again is making it seem like a single person's life feels more important than 900 who died so unfairly without reason.

Anyway, happy for Lee Yeon he get to be exactly what he wanted to be, which is to be human and to be by Ji-a's side.

I FINISHED THIS!! 8/10. It's really good story wise, I've watched season 2 first so I might be a bit biased to say I liked that season much much better than this one. Probably bcs Lee Yeon's character in season 2 isn't too sappy or cheesy or ugh romantic. But i still loved this drama, the CGI is always amazing, the soundtrack is to die for, the cinematography, the lights, the slow-motions is just *chef's kiss. I've been craving some good fantasy drama and this just hits the spot 😌👌

[voyaixis]

Caterpillar in Slow Motion

Info:

❗In 2023 we will travel again through Germany, France, Spain, more information shortly.❗

✔️Follow me if you like our #adventurelife .👌

✅Everyday new Pictures

✅All pictures & Clip's are created by us

Tags:

#slowmotion #foryour #insects #Caterpillars #animalsoftiktok #animal

Music www.bensound.com

[a-heaven]

Can we talk abt how they changed the source of Ryo's injury.. like... Honestly I love it. Like yeah the plaster's ✨ cute and quirky✨ and somewhat symbolic coming from a reckless fight before Lan Di appeared but?? I like it better that Lan Di gave him the cut and now he keeps touching the plaster when Lan Di crosses his mind it's so much more powerful and I love it sm hsjfhshf

so fukin trueeeeeee tysm. them giving the plaster more importance beyond aesthetic purposes is a smart move and makes the story more interesting. i've got to say though, i'm not a big fan of how the story keeps changing A LOT plus now we have the problem of "which one of these are canon"

[cassifiction]

Can you write sevika x a really cuddly fem reader?

I fucking love cuddles. I love writing about cuddles. It’s the best. Excellent request. Also, love your headcanons and fics 👌

Send me requests!

Craving attention – Sevika x cuddly fem reader

Short fic, sfw, 800-ish words. CW for Sevika being a bit of a bitch.

-> next request: Sevika x chubby fem reader (headcanons, sfw/nsfw)

“How much longer?” you whined, taking one of Sevika’s hands in your own and absentmindedly rubbing circles on her palm.

“Not much. Come on, just wait until I’m done here.” she whispered while halfheartedly attempting to wriggle her hand out of your grasp.

Sevika was sent to go oversee the transfer of some very valuable cargo, a task that Silco considered important enough for her to be there. Luckily it wasn’t a particularly dangerous task, otherwise Sevika would never have let you tag along with her. You had been feeling in need of attention that day, specifically HER attention, so you decided to follow her to work to see if she would allow you to hang around her. It promised to be a slow and boring day for her, so she had reluctantly agreed.

Finally, Sevika managed to free her hand from yours just in time to take a clipboard that was handed to her by one of the workers. She turned away from you slightly, studying the list and the numbers on it, confirming everything was looking as it should be. Still feeling a little neglected, you instead tried to reach for her other hand, the metal one, but she moved it just in time for you to miss it.

“Cut it out.” she said, a little more sternly than before. “I’m almost done.”

You pouted, but with Sevika’s back fully turned to you now, she couldn’t see it. Just playing hard to get, you figured. She would usually just let you do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted, within reason of course. You would hold her hand, hug her, sit on her lap and kiss her if the situation was appropriate. It was only during high-stakes and potentially dangerous missions that she would tell you to back off, if she would even allow you to tag along to missions like that in the first place. Which she usually wouldn't

Seeing no good reason for her to deny you some attention, you instead reached out to hug her from behind. Third time’s the charm, right?

As soon as Sevika felt your arms wrap around her waist, she tensed up. Then, she grabbed one of your wrist with her free hand and quickly spun around, freeing herself from your embrace in one quick motion. You were facing her now and she looked angry, her hand still firmly grasping your wrist.

“Thought I told you to stop.” she hissed. You winced, surprised by her sudden outburst. “I’m not playing, alright? This is work, this is serious. I can’t be cuddling my girlfriend while I do this. Do you even know how important this cargo is?”

You meekly shook your head.

“Of course you don’t. Now, can you not be such a spoiled princess for five more minutes and wait until I’m done?”

You nodded, feeling embarrassed and defeated. Sevika let go of your wrist and resumed her work, gesturing for one of the workers to come over and check the clipboard she was holding. There was nothing else left to do but watch from the side as you attempted to wait and be patient. Sevika’s words had hit you harder than they should have. Maybe it had been justified, but it had also hurt.

But like she had promised, after five minutes of waiting she was done with her tasks and ready to leave. With a light tug on your arm, she signaled it was time for both of you to leave. You silently accompanied her to Silco’s office, only lightly holding onto her arm, less intimate than you would usually walk.

“Silco?” Sevika called out as you both entered his office. Her voice echoed off the walls. No response.

“I don’t think he’s here..” you said quietly, already turning around to leave but Sevika grabbed you before you could do so.

She wasn’t holding you by the wrist this time, but your hand. Not like she was berating you. This felt gentle. Tugging on your hand lightly, she guided you to the couch in the corner of the room. Without saying a word, she sat down, still holding onto your hand. Then, she pulled you down onto the couch with her and onto her lap. Her arms quickly found their way around your waist and her head rested softly on top of yours.

It took you a second to register what was happening, but when you did, you immediately melted into her embrace. This was exactly what you had been craving all day. Her full attention, her arms around you, her body close to yours. Feeling her warmth and taking in her scent. You hummed contently, closing your eyes and enjoying the intimacy.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” she sighed, moving one of her hands to stroke your hair and the side of your face. “Just having a bad day. Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” you murmured, your head buried in her neck. “I know I’m a bit much sometimes.”

“You are.” she chuckled. “Especially when I’m trying to do my job.”

She moved her head a little to press a kiss to your forehead.

“But it’s also what I love about you.”

Notes: apology cuddles apology cuddles apology cuddles apology cu

[esoraluco]

MY BEAST!! My slimy man of the ocean 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥my creature. my guy i made. he looks so good in your style and i already love the first warm up sketch you did of him, but this!! This is even cooler. somehow! How is your brain doing this you should tell us all...

His pose is so good- it shows all his features/details and is clear and dynamic! As i said before i love the motion of the seaweed wings!! And his cool clam pearl canon, perfectly replicated 💖💖💖 everything is well replicated but the canon is directly pointed at us and it's so neat. good composition right there!! Every detail is just 👌👌👌👌👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍 i love all of it so much, it's hard to focus just on one! and that's a good thing!! The plastic sea creatures look really good too i want to touch them 🐡🐠🐟🐡🐡🐡🐠🐠🐟🦞 👈🐰 Also you made him handsome with his cool sharp teeth and his wavy spiky hair 💖💖💖

i am exploding again out of joy because of how good this is and i can't properly express the immense joy within me to see my Creature in your wonderful style again!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💥*slow motion explosion*

A commission I did for @ocularose of their Spamton SeaNeo!! Thank you again for commissioning me :D

[azul-marie]

Marie your taste in fictional men is👌 could I request hcs with Yohei, Zen (bc big bois go brrr) and Anne and their s/o muttering their name in their sleep? (Haha ik it’s cliché but,,, fluff)

hello! thanks for requesting! i’m glad my taste is to your liking, haha. this was quite sweet to write! i do hope you enjoy reading. stay safe. ❤️

note: fem. reader

genre: romance/fluff.

characters: yohei kanbayashi. gaho zen. anne faulkner.

yohei:

“yohei.”

your voice is as soft as dust tufts floating about the moonlit air. he hears it only because he is restless, tossing and turning and unable to sink into bed as well as he wanted. it stops him, makes him look over, sure he’s woken you up and annoyed you — but still you sleep. yohei follows the moon shining shadows across your lovely face, dancing off lashes and curves of lips. he thinks you might be frowning. or perhaps it’s just the light. either way, his instincts tell him to touch you, wrap you up tight. hopes you dream of him as much as he dreams of you, and finds refuge in your welcoming arms.

zen:

“zen.”

your voice is heavy, groggy with sleep, muffled by the warmth of skin of his bare back. for a second he’s afraid he’s accidentally rolled over you again or taking up too much of the bed. he haphazardly turns to apologize, blinking drowsy eyes awake, but finds you asleep and clinging to his waist, pretty face scrunching up at his sudden movements. zen nudges you slightly, just in case. you say his name again, in a whisper this time, and his somnolent heart melts. a kiss is pressed to your temples, easing your dreams. he returns to rest with anticipation of hearing you say his name at dawn’s grace.

anne:

“anne.”

your voice tickles the back of their ears. they’re slow to process the sound you made was of their name, fatigued as it was. his head turns the slightest motion, a hum sounding from his throat in drowsy response. anne’s eyes peek open when you whisper again, something close to their name. with a huff he turns over to beck at your call, but softens when he sees you fast asleep besides him. they relax, get comfortable, watch the rise of your chest and the fluttering of lashes when they brush hair away from your pretty face. you curl into his touch, reach for him in person and in dreams. he falls back to sleep with the sound of his name on his ears.