#trying this out

[miryum]

Simon Riley who, when you moved in with him, also had to adjust to your little dog. He loved dogs, as evident by Riley, but your dog was not like Riley. Riley was a war-hardened German Shepard that could sniff out bombs and had survived a bullet wound. Your dog looked like it would pee on the helicopter that was sent to rescue it and bark at the medic before rolling over for belly rubs.

Your dog was all bark and no bite. They were a small, fluffy little thing who you spoiled more than Simon. It took them a while to adjust to Simon, but when they realised that Simon laid heavily on the couch after deployment and was willing to be their personal pillow, your little dog reluctantly accepted him.

As for the dynamic between Riley and your dog, your little pupper was insistent that they were the boss of the house. They barked at Riley when first introduced as Riley just sat there, waiting for it to be over. Soon enough, though, your dog was curled up with Riley, cuddling. That always made you coo and take pictures of the pair, though Simon grumped that he’d rather have you pay attention to him.

Speaking of attention not on Simon, when the hell did your shared bed also become the dogs’ bed? When it was just Simon and Riley, Riley had his own bed and kennel in the living room. And Simon loved you so much. He was so fucking happy when you moved in. Hell, he was happy just to have you in his bed. Waking up with you tucked into his side, protected by him, was something he adored. It was better than heaven. But that heaven was usually interrupted by your scrappy little dog wiggling its way in between you two. He would turn around when you started petting and baby-talking the dog, only to see Riley at the foot of the bed, staring up at him. That’s how both dogs began sleeping in your shared bed.

You adored Riley just as much as you adored your own dog. You loved going on walks with Simon, the dogs on their leashes. Riley was a perfect walker, next to Simon the entire time with such military precision that you doubted the canine even needed a leash. Your dog on the other hand… they weaved all over the path, pausing to sniff and pee every half block. Simon wanted to train your dog like he had trained Riley, but you refused. “Oh, shush. Look at that little face! Perfect already, Si.” Of course, he could never say no to you.

Speaking of Riley’s training, however, Simon could tell that his dog was slowly slipping farther and farther from his strict regimen. With the excessive treats that you slipped Riley, the dog was gaining some chonkiness, just as his owner. As his deployments got further and further apart and his retirement got more and more likely (perhaps because of the ring in his dresser drawer), he allowed himself to stay in bed longer with you rather than getting up to exercise in the wee hours of the morning. You didn’t mind, obviously. You liked the softness that Simon was acquiring and he was always a big man to begin with. Just because his tummy was becoming more squishy didn’t mean that he still couldn’t throw his weight around if someone was bothering you.

Simon, combined with Riley, allowed for ‘scary dog privileges.’ There was a time when a creepy man began following you when Simon was on deployment and you were walking Riley. Your own little dog was getting their hair cut, so it was just you and Riley. You noticed something was wrong when Riley’s ears perked up and his movements got a bit more robotic. You glanced around, knowing Riley’s instincts were never wrong. After seeing the man, you decided to head back towards the edge of the park, where more people were. When the man didn’t give up, though, and got even closer, Riley went full guarddog. He stepped closer to you and turned around to face the man. After a few loud, thundering barks that drew the attention of everyone around, the man scuttled away. Later that month when Simon was back home, both dogs cuddled up to you on the bed, he didn’t know whether to be mad that you didn’t tell him immediately (though he could never get mad at you) or to be proud that Riley protected you so fiercely. Anxiety and fear rushed through Simon, but you calmed him with a small kiss and Riley set his head on Simon’s stomach. Riley definitely earned the scratches behind the ears that he got.

Most dog owners took their dogs out for one last pee before bedtime and Simon was no exception. You always made Simon take the dogs out because you were usually cuddled up in bed or in the blankets all cosy. He never once complained, either tugging on his jacket if it was windy out, or pulling on a hat if it was raining. He would do anything for you, even if it meant braving thick snow that crept into his boots. Riley always went quickly, even though both owner and dog knew that he could withstand the freezing temperatures. Your little idiot, on the other hand, would take their merry time, sniffing and trailing around the yard (which you had asked for when you and Simon moved out of his apartment and into a real house on the outskirts of the city). There were even times when another dog would be walking by and your canine would bark and run after them. Simon was always quick to jog after and scoop the dog up. Once in a while, Riley would give a deep bark as well, as if telling off your dog. Simon would then trudge back into the house, muttering curses under his breath, your dog under his arm.

But, as much as he pretended to hate your dog, there was always a soft spot there. Soon enough, “my girlfriend’s” dog became “my wife’s” dog and then “our” dog.

[iifishizzleii]

könig & gaz - first meet

rare ship alert lmao. unedited :]

könig, who’s sent by kortac (much to his displeasure) on a co-op with task force 141.

he doesn’t like how they work, how their attention will divert from the mission the moment it comes to protecting civilians.

if there’s a chance that innocent lives can be saved, könig will do what he can. but, he won’t compromise a mission over a few lives, because what’s war without sacrifice? (not that their sacrifice means anything in the end, but to be fair, if you see a group of military men rushing one way, why wouldn’t you run the other way?) he has a job, and it’s a job that pays him to take lives. not save them.

the 141, on the other hand, work like they are. and it’s fucking annoying because they suddenly have a conscious for the lives they’re taking, as if the soldiers they’d killed in the field weren’t civilians in gear— as if they weren’t men who were someone’s husband, son, or father. but what does könig know? he’s just a colonel who’s been on the field longer than even price.

(the truth is, könig wasn’t raised knowing the value of human life. his father hated his mother, and his mother hated that he looked like his father. when he was diagnosed with social anxiety, it was just a label to the skin-crawling feeling he got whenever somebody stared at him for too long, the fraying to his nerves when the voices around him made the ones in his head scream louder. people had never done könig any good in his life. so, what did they deserve from him?)

he was forced to a briefing with the 141, and they were as insufferable as he remembered. price, with his unintelligible bear grunting that had könig leaning left because the hearing in his right ear had dulled, and the odor of cigarettes and stress that always followed him. ghost, who‘s staring was like a dissection he felt tugging at every nerve, dull eyes watching könig from across the table in a way that made the taller man want to peel out his eyes. soap, the blabbering bastard that never knew how to sit still without brushing up cozy against the masked lieutenant. all three of them were ripe for early retirement by könig’s hand, testing him with every indirect jab and comment made at the expense of their former enemy. then, a fourth man könig hadn’t bothered sparing any attention for asks price and question, and he turns.

his name was gaz. that’s what könig was told, at least, though he doubted it was the brit’s real name. not that he gave a shit. and ‘gaz’ was no older than thirty five.

he stood to price’s right, staring down at the map on the table with a sharp focus könig noticed. and while they weren’t many things on this Earth he enjoyed, one thing könig could appreciate was a weapon that was as lethal as it was transfixing.

he has big, brown eyes that swam with emotion, something könig’s bitter heart wouldn’t know a thing about. full, tanned cupid bow lips twisted into a thoughtful frown as price and laswell discussed their plans for the mission. his skin was copper, unlike the pale complexions könig was accustomed to seeing on Al Mazrah and Ashika Island. he has thick brows and sharp nose, and when he folds his arms across his chest, his biceps bulge under the grey-blue button up shirt he wears. the curve of his ass and muscled thighs are hugged by his tactical cargo pants.

he wasn’t stocky like soap, nor was he as intimidatingly huge as price or ghost. it was anything larger in size, after all, that people’s attention naturally gravitated to. könig would know. and between the four of them, gaz sits directly in the middle of being physically dominating. and it’s that which interests könig, because while any other less experienced man would chalk gaz’s size up to his skill, he knew better. gaz had every good of a chance of killing him as the rest of the men did. maybe even more, now that könig was aware of how his presence effected the group, and how easily gaz could use to his advantage.

“hübsche klinge,” könig muttered under his breath.

but, awareness seemed to lose meaning as he watched the young man across the room, dark eyes trailing up the thin fabric stretched across gaz’s stomach before lowering to watch his narrow hips as shifts to face price.

then soap cracks a joke and könig would have condemned him for it, unused to such easy going attitude while prepping for a mission, but the sight of gaz’s lips uncurling into a the barest hints of grin make könig freeze. he’s a grown man for christ’s sake, a force of nature feared by enemies and revered by allies. not even the sight of a his own family’s mangled corpses could sway him.

yet, watching that small grin on gaz’s face bloom into a full smile, an exasperated but amused laugh escaping plush lips at soap’s joke, has könig tightening his fists at his side, tracking the way gaz’s eyes crinkle in the corner from the stretch of his smile, his arms unfolding just to refold them oppositely.

könig decides at that moment that out of all the 141, gaz would be the biggest hindrance.

[mashedpotatosinacup]

HEY CHAT … HOWS IT GOING

[theleavesofwesteros]

A Generous Host - Loki x Alfar!F!Reader

A/N: Hey guys... I am back (ominous). Tbh for months now I've had creativity worms crawling around in my brain (kinda bg3 style), and I've been wanting and nearly writing for like a bunch of fandoms I'm in. But lately I've been having a rough time anxiety wise and I went back to an interest that I thought I'd left behind in like 2021 (Loki). But I fear I will never be free of my God of Mischief so like... I need to write something short for my blorbo. I have an OC in mind, but wanted to make this initial thing more general and just yk warm up the writing juices and see how I like it. All the best to anyone reading this, we got this and be kind to yourselves <333

PS: divider by the very talented @cafekitsune (tysm) :))

PPS: this was meant to be up like a week ago but yeah I procrastinate even the things I start up to procrastinate LMFAO

Word count: 2,248 words

She still remembered the thoughts that had flown through her mind as she'd first seen the opulence and grandiosity of Asgard's Palace. With all its gold, and height and beauty, it was no wonder that people throughout all the Realms spoke of it. Of course, her home, Alfheim, would forever hold a special place in her heart. Moreoever, it was often compared to Asgard. It was home to the Light Elves, after all. It was only natural that their home would be as beautiful as its inhabitants. She had always been considered to be one of the most beautiful Alfar to come out of there in the past few centuries. She was humble enough not to brag about that concensus or use it to her advantage, but she also did not deny it.

Therefore, it was with great grace that she accepted the All-Mother's invitation to go live in Asgard. It would be a way to see more of the Nine Realms, in fact, to see the very seat of them, and even for her to simply become more independent. She knew her parents had secret hopes of marrying her off, as well, and what better way than by throwing her into the locale of the biggest feasts and gatherings? Her parents had only further encouraged this, practically (but lovingly) pushing her into the carriage that would lead her there.

Upon her arrival, she was taken in by the All-Mother. The All-Father welcomed her, but he insisted he had very pressing matters to attend to and couldn't spare her much more than a greeting. She found she did not mind much. He had an energy about him that she did not much appreciate for some reason. He deserved respect, of course, and she knew that well, but she promised herself not to do anything that would land his attention on her.

Frigga gracefully offered her one of the many guest chambers in the large castle. She then showed her around the large estate, before finally introducing her to her two sons.

They did not look much alike at all, she found. They were both tall, and broad, but one seemed to overshadow the other with his sheer confidence and luminosity. He could've easily been an Alfar like her, she thought. The other, was all darkness and silence. He was curious about her, she could tell. He was intelligent, very much so, and that much was glaringly obvious. When their gazes met, she felt a tingle in her mind, as if it was being opened up. She firmly closed it off, or at least tried to, and was granted a twitch of the lips from the prince.

Frigga spoke soonafter.

"My lady, these are my two sons. I am very glad to be introducing you to them, as I am sure they are glad to be introduced to you. This is Prince Thor, my eldest." The All-Mother gestures to the could-be-Alfar.

Thor offers her a charming smile and bows carefully in order to take her hand (noticeably smaller in his large hold) and kiss it.

"A great welcome is in order for you, my lady. Welcome to Asgard." His booming voice proclaims.

She curtsies in response, bowing her head, too.

"And this," Resumes Frigga, moving to stand beside the other son, "Is Prince Loki."

The smile he offers her is different. Still very charming, but it feels as if it is not being given to her for free. He also bows and takes her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"My lady... I trust your journey was pleasant?" He speaks and she feels somewhat enchanted.

She wonders how it is possible for a voice to sound like that. It is both soft and rough. Cold and warm. Once again, she feels that tingle in her mind when his eyes meet hers. She is distracted for only a moment, and the tingle seems to spread throughout her whole mind. It lasts only a second, and she only notices it two beats later. His smile grows just a touch as he pulls away and stands beside his mother and brother, hands behind his back.

She gathers herself and curtsies again, feeling suddenly somewhat faint.

"... 'Tis an honour to make both of your acquaintances, your graces."

"I am of the belief that you would benefit best from seeing the castle through the guidance of a younger set of eyes, my lady. That is why I offered that same task to my sons." Frigga begins, speaking in a gentle cadence, and with a kind smile on her face. It seemed to be everlasting.

"Unfortunately, Prince Thor is set to depart on an adventure with his companions, the Warriors Three, very soon and this plan has been set in motion for quite a while. Prince Loki has gracefully offered his services to you, however." Frigga rests her hand on Loki's shoulder for a moment.

Loki's eyes are set on the lady. Gauging for a reaction. An emotion. Like an animal seeking out another's weakness.

She showed none. Instead, she remained graceful, as her parents would have wanted.

"I am humbled by the offering of your time and services, your grace."

Loki raises an eyebrow at her answer, before regaining his (seemingly constant) composure. Emotions seem to pass through him like ripples on water. They never last long, and they do not change the seemingly perfect picture he presents.

"It is no trouble, my lady. I can accompany you at any point in the coming days. My business is never... too pressing." He replies, a hint of an impish grin on his lips.

God of Mischief, indeed. It practically oozed from him, she thought. It wouldn't be a surprise if he sustained himself with it. Eating it from his plate whilst the others at the royal table ate venison and drank ambrosia.

She felt he was unlikely to have their tour of the palace be boring. Prince Thor seemed to sense the same, because he shot Loki a sideways look.

"Brother, I do trust you will make the lady feel welcome into our home and welcome her here gracefully even as I am absent?" The blonde syas pointedly.

Loki puts on an innocent look this time.

"Brother... that you would ever assume otherwise is a slander to my entire being, to my centuries of existence! Have I not always been an exemplary host? Particularly to genteel ladies?"

She swears she sees him bat his eyelashes.

Prince Loki apparently isn't as free as the All-Mother had said. No, rather, he doesn't make time for her. From what she gathers, he does not do much in the days following her arrival in Asgard. He mostly struts through the palace with his long legs, looking for potential sources of chaos.

Even worse, he never cordially and officially invites her to a tour through the palace. It is after a near week of her living there that he practically jumps out from behind a bush in the royal gardens to scare her.

He seems entirely pleased with her reaction, and plays it off as having seen something gleaming from within the bush. His grin is a bit too devilish for her to believe him.

"Ah, but my lady... it seems we both find ourselves here, together, at present. I suppose there is not much for me to do but to invite you on a tour?" He offers with the slightest bow of his head.

She's surprised that he's actually gone and invited her, even though his way seems to involve a forced proximity. Still, she must be grateful in the presence of one of the two princes. That is why she finds herself offering him a small smile and a bow of her head.

"I should like that, my prince."

Loki's eyes latch onto her again. She still can't quite figure out what has him so fascinated with her. His eyes are always seeking out something within her, almost. They're not too blue, neither not too green for it to be a discernible colour, so she can't decide if staring into them is like looking at the shallow waves that drag you into the current or like the vines that encompass you and strangle you. She thinks she doesn't really want to find out.

It turns out that he's not too bad to be around. If he's still staring at her, she gets lost in his nearly incessant retelling of all the pranks he's pulled throughout the palace and doesn't notice. Every inch, she assumes, must have a story related to his shenanigans. It's impressive to be sure, but she starts fearing for the integrity of her own rooms.

Another thing that distracts her is his voice. Again. She wonders the same things she'd thought the first time she'd heard it. How is it possible for it to be like that? It is like all the best possible qualities that a voice can have put together. Is it because he's meant to tempt?

His hand wrapping around her elbow pulls her out of her thoughts.

"My lady... I should hope that my stories aren't cause for you to throw yourself down the stairs? At least wait until supper, Father might even raise a brow." He speaks to her, pulling her back from the flight of stairs she'd (truly) been about to fall down.

She hadn't even noticed where she'd been walking, she'd just gotten lost in his lilting, velvet voice. She could respect that about him, at least. Perhaps Silver Tongue was an accurate moniker. Or would Silver Mouth be more fitting? Not that she'd been thinking of his mouth.

"Oh... my apologies, prince Loki... I was lost in my thoughts for a moment."

He seems entirely pleased by that. But then, he puts that reaction away to instead act offended.

"And here I thought you'd be listening and memorizing every detail of my words. I don't explain my past mischief-making to just anyone, my lady. I was being a grateful host, you see... just as Thor and Mother wanted of me. Yet now it seems they shall hear complaints of you rather than of me. How thrilling, and entirely shocking." He grins that chesire grin again. "Less than a week in Asgard and you are already stirring the proverbial pot, my lady..."

She tries to ignore him. She doesn't have to try too hard, though, because she gets lost in the intricacies of his accent. Her own behaviour surprises her, and she sighs, placing a hand to the nearby wall.

"I... Forgive me. And... thank you for the tour, my prince. I believe I am tired, and could do with retiring to my chambers."

"Oh, but of course, my lady... of course." He says with hyperbolic concern, even furrowing his dark brows slightly for effect. He was certainly good. "Allow me to escort you."

"Oh, no... I couldn't ask that of you, my prince. Moreover, I know my way-"

"Oh, but my mother would insist. I cannot simply leave our guest abandoned, yes?" He grins, already proud of himself. Of aiding her into the trap by playing a game that had been set up a week prior.

And so, he walks her to her chambers.

"Do you know, my lady, I rarely ever walk this part of the palace. Not for a century or so, at least, that is." He says as they enter the part of the palace set out for guests and dignitaries and such.

"Well, I suppose that is not surprising to me, my prince. The guests remain here... I should assume the royal quarters are on the other end of the palace, yes?" She replies, managing not to walk herself into a wall or down another flight of stairs.

"Ah, indeed, my lady. Have you already studied the plans of the castle from boredom? I suppose I will have to enrich your time here. As your host, of course."

She finds herself smiling. She feels his eyes on her again, and it's as if he's pleased and finally gotten what he needed from her.

When they finally reach her chambers, she turns to face him in order to thank him again.

"Thank you for going out of your way to escort me back to my chambers, prince Loki. And for allowing me to cut our tour of the palace short."

"It is truly no problem, my lady... we can pick it up another time. We mustn't let you overtire yourself, after all." He says carefully, but his eyes reveal that he is entirely aware that she isn't truly tired. "And... this was not out of my way. I believe I shall make this part of my palace a part of my usual rounds. It is always good to occasionally change routes when living a life as long as our own. Would you not agree, my lady?"

He seems entirely too pleased with himself, and she can't very well refuse a royal prince of Asgard his desire to walk through his own castles. However, her heart fills heavy with something when she thinks about the possibility of seeing much more of him.

"Of course, prince Loki," She replies gracefully.

The last she sees of him before supper that night is his easy walk away from her as he walks further down the hall towards his chambers on the other end of the palace.

She certainly does not spare a glance to his behind.

[creepypasta-meh-dudes]

I've been wanting to post some art on here for a while now, but just wasn't confident enough to. I like drawing but don't like my skill level so I just kinda feel icky when I show it to others, but I feel like if I put my drawings out there enough, then I'll build confidence <3

(Had to use references for this one ⬆)

(My version of Splendorman)

that's all I'm gonna put today buy yeye

[dontyouknowemma-itsyou]

santa fe

[justratqueenthings]

Posted chapter 3 ("Natty") of my Yellowjackets fic, Jackalope! It's starting to get kinda weird...

"Nat navigates her duties and relationships in the wilderness while also dealing with a headache-inducing stalker."

CW for a bunch of typical Yellowjackets stuff

[borkthemork]

You are a monster hunter.

Currently, your desk harbors several assignments to choose from, their deadlines ending on the same day. You only have one week to find the target, all before your client takes your soul if you fail.

(Monster Lover POV)

[lordofthesoups]

Pinned post time!

The name’s Soup Pronouns are he/him and it/its

As your resident pretentious piece of shit you can expect to find me mainly reblogging stuff about malevolent, tma and the locked tomb, plus weird/obscure/experimental music and films.

Although anything may take my fancy so don't hold me to this list.

Original tags to look out for:

#soup talks music #soup talks cinema #soup speaks the bullshit #soup takes photos

#photography <- this is about two years old

Alt accounts are:

The limb/art account: @arthur-lesters-spinal-cord

The neglected mushroom account: @soupandmushrooms

[evilbookworm]

Look at my Roblox recommend page.

it knows me.

[thefloatingidiot]

I have the object permanence of an infant with the self esteem of a teenager, and you expect me to be a functioning member of society?

[icarusk]

if anyone has bprd/hellboy doodle requests, they can be sent to my askbox :)

[destiel-wings]

spn analysis ask game

okay trying this. you can send me an ask (also anonymous) about something spn related that you want to know my opinion/analysis/interpretation/thoughts about, and I'll reply.

It can be something short or a quick question (like "who's your favorite...") or something deeper that i may write an essay about (like Dean's issues and psychological traumas).

It may take me some time to answer, (depending on how deep i go with the topic) but it may be fun ;)

[waggoboyo]

Funny