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so-this-is-hell · 4 months

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Ok I watched the leaked episodes

Let’s start with the positives! I love positives!

- Alex Brightman put his whole Alexussy into this shit oh my god, Pentious and Adam actually sound really good. Adam singing is also really really good. Alex can sing in character and carry things well and I’m glad now he’s part of the project. Because at least it’ll be bearable if I see the other episodes.

-Vox is actually weirdly really compelling? Like I actually ended up enjoying the vibe he’s got and his own voice grew on me, I know it’s not what people wanted but it works well.

-Nifty’s voice is pretty ok, so is Charlie’s. They’re some of the better voices of the cast, Alastor’s performance was uh. It wasn’t bad so there’s that!

-the opening exposition was needed but also a bit hamfisted- wait shit the positives- uh, I love the direction it went? Art wise?

-the songs are pretty good, they get you from point A to point B, and at least wasn’t Poison levels of cringe in writing.

-Charlie actually helping Pentious in episode 2 try to repent and be a better person actually feels nice, like a crumb of what the show should of be-

…

Ok let’s get to the point.

-the episodes clearly are trying to shove as much of the plot as humanly possible, to the point that you get whiplash.

-Angel Dust, Vaggie, Valentino, Husk all have voices that either do not fit, crack from the pressure to perform, or are trying so hard to mimic the previous voice that it’s actually worrying. The Angel dust one in particular I’ll get to when I get to the point.

-The plot starts with the main antagonist, literally telling Charlie that her plan is pointless and she should give up. There’s no actual “I want” song to counter this, unless you count the song where Adam mocks her for trying and tells her the exterminations will happen twice a year now.

-Pentious at least wasn’t a creep like i was fearing in the script, but he comes off too pathetic? Like I know he was pathetic and that’s the point but why the fuck does he want to be equal to the Vees now? Didn’t he want to rule over hell himself? I know the instagram had him crop himself into pictures with the Vees but remember those aren’t canon!

-I realized I was able to hop in because I had Wikipedia level knowledge of these characters to the point they click in my head (and enough to where Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and Husk all felt a little off but that’s neither here nor there). But god I cannot imagine being a new person trying to jump into this show, this is bad. None of the characters get actually introduced outside of Charlie, the show references the pilot which isn’t part of the show so new audiences have no idea what they’re talking about, and the staff gets actually introduced in episode 2. EPISODE 2, TO PENTIOUS!? GIRLIE POP HAVE HIM COME EPISODE 1 THEN?

-Animation that’s either too floaty, too janky, too stiff or straight up traced. Which I don’t blame the animators for, Mammon was busy buying 10,000 dollars worth of peacocks to bother paying them more than a dollar per frame. There’s no charm here.

-Where did the fucking cat key come from? No I’m serious. Where did it come from? It just kinda exists now.

-Alastor’s commercial is just straight up MEAN and he’s often more mean than chaotic, which I know is ironic since he wasn’t a good person and I wasn’t expecting him to be but it’s to a point where it’s not even fun mean. He literally called Charlie’s endeavor “Daddy issues”. It felt like he was just there to slap Charlie in the face.

-Angel Dust rant is gonna be so long that I saved it for last.

I have to put it under the read more because of talk of SA! Fun!

Ok.

I’m saying this as someone who loved him from the pilot and was willing to excuse his behavior as “flaws he can work on” since Addict and everything else proved that there was more under the surface and he was a character that could change and grow and-

…

Angel dust, the rape victim… the guy running away from his abuser…

The Angel dust who has traumatic episodes so fucking graphic that he flashes back to them when he’s performing.

Saying “yeah no, fucking sexually exploit me! It turns me on!”

Viv, I know you’re not reading this but I mean this genuinely.

Fuck you.

As someone who’s family has experienced sexual abuse, as someone who’s family still has CPTSD because men in power decide to exploit them… how fuckin dare you make a character enjoy their own exploitation.

This isn’t me kink shaming a sexual character! He can be sexual and like sex! It’s never been the problem and hell it could of been liberation to have sex he deserves.

But no.

Let’s make the SA victim into the sexual harassment character, let’s make the SA victim the Stolas of the show where he wears down his love interest so thin that they have to give up.

Let’s make the SA victim still work under his shitty abuser, and make that into a joke as the abuser mentions wanting to rape everyone in the hotel.

Don’t pay to watch this show, I mean it.

Pirate it.

Hell don’t even watch it, find something better to watch. I’ve been binging anime as of late and I still like captain lazerhawk.

#hazbin leaks #hazbin hotel critical #oh yeah btw I reneg my statement of letting go of Angel dust #I’m stealing his ass #Viv stole from people anyways #Angel dust is now my character and I am keeping him away from Valentino #The radio dust au is gonna be my comfort from this

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miracles-and-butterflies · 8 days

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[Reincarnation AU]

Luisa, scrolling through YouTube: I hate this. What do you mean “Isabela sings Surface Pressure” or “Camilo sings Waiting On a Miracle”? What the actual fuck?

Isabela: Lmao, I’d need your whole song to be higher for my soprano.

Luisa: Um, forget that, what about the fact you can’t relate to our specific traumas? You already have your own fucking song about your own trauma, why do you need mine?!?

Dolores: I completely agree with Luisa’s points. The songs were made specifically for each of you, not anyone else.

Mirabel: I too hate the fact that everything I have must be stolen from me. Thank God, I can sue people and have it taken down.

Mirabel: Jokes aside, we need to talk about the attention on male characters. Camilo has two minutes of screen time and zero plot relevance, yet is more beloved than the four of us combined. Why? Because he is male. The same case can be made for Bruno. Every female character in our film is completely villainised and any misstep is blown out of proportion. ‘Camilo’ singing our songs, being forced to fit our parts, is proof enough of that.

Mirabel: The erasure and hatred of female characters in this supposedly ‘modern feminist era’ is an actual joke - we had more feminism in our rural town in Colombia that was stuck in the 1890s! And that was before the feminist movement picked up traction. All this love for men, character or otherwise, drives me insane. I don't give a damn about Alexander Hamilton and his measly papers, where is the acknowledgment for Kateryn Parr as one of the first women to publish a book? Emily Davison is dumbed down to an idiot for what she did for the Suffragette movement, Mary Wollstonecraft's work for what became feminism is left unsaid, Simone de Beauvoir—

Dolores: Okay! That's enough history for today. Thank you, Mirabel.

Isabela, filming on her phone: No, let her keep going, Diane would love this

#encanto #incorrect encanto quotes #encanto reincarnation au #isabela madrigal #luisa madrigal #dolores madrigal #mirabel madrigal

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wifetomegatron · 7 months

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this is a happy house ( we're happy here ). tarn / afab!reader. nsfw! mdni!

[ tw : unhealthy relationship dynamics described & stockholm syndrome undertones.]

Tarn has always been idealistic, if not detached from reality. Already was he all over you, servos accidentally tearing into the material of your coat — delicate fabric caught in the seams of his metal. There was no remorse as he continued to undress you, a newfound charge of energy surging through his frame. You should stop him. He was stripping you in the middle of the snow, out on the surface of Messantine. Where the air was already thin and the temperature ridiculously cold.

But you know better than to protest, not when his eyes have dropped into a dangerous shade of red. At least he was heating up fast. And you find yourself asking him in between shallow breaths what's gotten him all worked up.

" Do I make you happy ?"

You froze. There was a moment of shock, a residual pause where you had to reel yourself back mentally to process the words. And yet Tarn's intake continued to leave wet, hurried kisses along your neck. He bit down your collarbone with enough pressure to shock you out of your trance. But not enough to draw blood — for now.

Not wanting to test the limits of his impatience, you answered.

" Y-you do."

Your voice was trembling, and you tried to blame it on the chill. The sharp pain from his bite melted into a warm, ripe heat that seeped into the pit of your stomach.

Immediately, you were lifted, effortlessly sprawled atop your pile of clothes. Strong arms, parting your legs to place them on either side of his waist.

" Is that true?"

It was true. You like to think he does. And even if you have to grit your teeth to swallow the bile rising out of your gut whenever you think of his crimes, his sins, you know you'll eventually learn how to turn a blind eye to them. You have to.

So you gave him a nod, suddenly breathless when he caged you with both arms. The heat is suffocating you from all sides. You can no longer feel the ice, the wind. Only him. Only Tarn.

" You belong to me," He murmured down your sternum as he bites down the underside of your chest, "You will always stay with me."

Nickel had warned you about what his reaction to hearing Megatron's surrender might be. The Decepticon cause was his pantheon, and he was a devout who had just witnessed his deity abandon him. At this news, a small, hopeful part of you — one you thought had died, many, many months ago — had rejoiced at the idea. Maybe his grief will finally set you free.

Oh, but you've always been so naive.

Instead, this newfound freedom has housed an appetite in him that needs to come out: that needs to be bled and wrung and satiated. His hips keep moving, driving into you until you're just on the edge of consciousness. And you're partially suspended, at his mercy as he handles you to his liking. Then he slows and stops and pulls away to duck his head in between the mess, and you jumped when he gave one long drag across your clit —making you writhe and claw down his back.

You understand now. Tarn will never be without purpose. So long as he has that to cling to, you will continue to stay with him in this house. This dark and lonely house where the only music you can hear is his voice. His bird in a golden cage: singing as he touches you in all the right places.

Not knowing what else to do, you chose to submit to this want, tilting your neck to let him trail kisses down your jugular. Squashing whatever was left of that hope to trade it for his glossa.

( The illusion of choice is a beautiful, seductive thing. And Tarn was a collector of all things beautiful. And lonely. )

You can feel him smile against your pulse point, servos already working past your trembling cunt to start again.

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creat0r-cat · 10 months

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Iplier Egos Head Cannon - What Song in "Encanto" Did They Get Emotional During?

Darkiplier

Surface Pressure

Deep down he really does care about his “brothers”

He thinks he needs to keep up the tough guy act to make them think he isn’t afraid

He is

He REALLY is

He’s worried about the space/time continuum, keeping order, and making sure the ipliers’ existence stays a secret

He tries not to let the others see the tears that involuntarily start to fall as Louisa sings about her struggles as the strongest sister

Wilford

He probably heard all of the songs before watching the movie

He wouldn’t really cry for any of them in particular (feeling that he doesn’t necessarily relate to any of them)

However

He would look at certain egos to watch their reactions during different songs

He would notice the small things that happen and slowly learn more about his “brothers” based on the musical numbers and their lyrics

After the movie, he’d probably go and visit the egos that had the worst reactions (who got the most emotional or those who would straight up leave the room)

He did get a little bothered listening to “Dos Oruguitas” though

He didn’t get emotional per say

But watching Pedro die with the love song in the background kinda reminded him of when he lost Celine

Fortunately, he opted not to dwell on it too much

Actor

Waiting On A Miracle

This boy is INSECURE because of his breakup with Celine

Is he good enough?

Has he done enough?

Is he really worthy of anything?

He wants to be better

He wants his life to be better

But everything seems to slip through his fingers, coming back to resent him later on

He just wants someone to open their eyes and see that he’s worth their time, even if that person is Dark

Mirabel dancing on screen, singing about how she wished to be noticed as part of the family, made Actor tear up, wiping them away before someone could see them

Eventually, it got to be too much (especially seeing how Mirabel was pushed away by her family after trying to help them) and he left the room, using the excuse of getting more snacks

As soon as he entered the kitchen, he had a silent breakdown

Googleplier

Surface Pressure

I can’t really hear Louisa sing “I’m pretty sure I’m worthless if I can’t be of service” without thinking about Google and his first objective

Yes, his secondary objective is relatively important, but the first one is.. Well it’s his PRIMARY objective

If he can’t do anything other than hurt people, then what is the point of him being there?

His optics widen and his mechanical heart speeds up

“How do you feel?” survey pops up and he clicks on one

“I’m in this picture and I don’t like it”

Bingiplier

What Else Can I Do?

He’s imperfect

That’s all I really need to say, but I’ll continue

He’s always compared to Google and he knows deep down that he’s worth more than his search bar abilities

He doesn’t want to be perfect like Google

He just wants to be himself, which is hard when everyone is always doting on him for every mistake he makes

Isabella creating spiky plants and beautiful flowers in front of him makes his optics widen and he slowly smiles, feeling an odd mixture of happiness and sadness as he watches her accept her imperfections in spite of her family’s expectations

Dr. Iplier

He doesn’t really get emotional during the songs

However

When it’s revealed that Bruno has been shunned by his family because of his gift, he smiled sadly

“How unfortunate,” he thought, “for someone to be abandoned because of something uncontrollable and never be spoken of again for fear of taboo”

He’s seen patients in the hospital who never have anyone visit them

He always feels sad when he finds out that someone has been abandoned

He secretly makes trips to animal shelters for that reason, to visit the abandoned animals and give them some love

He gets happy again when Bruno is reunited with his loved ones who welcome him back with open arms

Yandereplier

Dos Oruguitas

He wouldn’t relate to any of the English songs enough to have a real reaction

He gets emotional during certain parts of the movie because he recognizes a lot of what’s going on in the Madrigal family (Toxic family roles and stuff like that)

He feels bad for the characters (especially Mirabel and Bruno)

But when “Dos Oruguitas” starts playing and we find out the heartbreaking truth behind Abuelo Pedro’s death

WHOOOO BOY the tears start FLOWING

He hates to imagine the pain Abuela went through, losing the love of her life

Yandere, being a very romantic man, can’t stand the thought of his own senpai leaving him

Like, she’s everything to him!

He’d become very protective of her after watching this movie, afraid of anyone taking her away from him

He’s fine with the movie though, loves the music for the most part

Yancy

Friggin ALL OF THE SONGS

He loves music and finds each of them so amazing

He also kinda relates to each of the English sung songs in their own way (except “We Don’t Talk About Bruno”)

WOAM: The want to be extraordinary and help others

SP: The need to be the tough one and look out for his fellow prisoners and weaker “brothers”

WECAD: The want to live life how he wants without being the picture perfect civilian that the world wants him to be

He thinks very highly of this movie and loves it to bits

He does eventually become frustrated with how often “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” gets sung by people both online and in real life

Like, he gets that it’s a catchy song, but still, give it a break

Illinois

Waiting On A Miracle

Yes, Illinois is a special adventurous and flirtatious boy

But not everything is really as it seems with him

His whole “Everyone falls in love with me” act is a facade

He’s trying to convince himself that he’s loved / cared about by someone

He took up adventuring to be different

To be a conversation starter

To be interesting so that somebody

ANYBODY

Would look his way and want to be around him

After all..

He wasn’t special or cool enough growing up to have many / any friends

He sees way too much of himself in Mirabel and ends up leaving the group for a few minutes to cry in the bathroom

Engineer Mark

Waiting On A Miracle

What else needs to be said?

If given pictures of Engineer and Mirabel everyone would say they were the same image

Insecure

Feels unwanted

Wants to be impressive and help those around him with his talents and ideas

Hides behind a false persona of happiness

THEY

ARE

THE

SAME

PERSON

He’s close to leaving the room but stays put, activating his space helmet which is also soundproof so no one can see / hear him start to cry

Poor man can’t hear “Waiting On A Miracle” without having a breakdown

#iplier egos #markiplier egos #headcannons #encanto #head engineer mark x reader #googleplier #dr iplier #yanderiplier #darkiplier #wilford motherloving warfstache #markiplier wilford #illinois jones #movie night #yancy #ahwm yancy #bingiplier #Actor Mark #encanto headcanons #encanto disney

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zero-to-zero-to-zero-again · 1 year

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Pocket-Sized Sidekick (2)

Link To Part One

Word Count: 1,970

TW's: Fear, Fearplay (Intentional and Unintentional), Violence, Injury, Implications Of Past Abuse, Threats Of Violence

Characters: C!Ranboo, C!Technoblade, C!Dream, C!Philza, C!Wilbur

Summary: Ranboo finds himself in a totally relatable situation where he's been abducted by one of the scariest supervillains in existence.

Ranboo gets bullied in this one >:)

"...dunno, the freezer?"

"I'm not putting a person in our freezer."

"He probably wouldn't take up much room."

"Don't be an idiot. He'll get blood on my ice cream."

"Scratch the hero. Why don't we just put Will in the freezer?"

"Nobody's putting anyone in the freezer."

The world was a bokeh photo. Clarity was slowly afforded to Ranboo. His mind swam as he gradually pushed himself upright. The argument had become little more than background noise. The entirety of his focus was on the sharp pain coursing through his back in bolts.

"Did you even try to get his suit off? See what we're dealing with?"

"Yeah. Things got an airlock or something."

Airlock? His suit had an airlock on it. Nobody could get the thing off without popping his head off in the process. Maybe he should mention something to...to...

Who was talking?

He could have sworn one of the voices sounded familiar and yet he couldn't place it. Ranboo having memory problems? How entirely out of character. A weary groan leaked from his lips. Dream was going to give him an earful for this one.

His eyes slowly lifted to take in his surroundings. It seemed like a normal enough room. A sofa, a television, a couple windows...all of which seemed comically larger than the hero-in-training. Nausea churned Ranboo's stomach.

Three figures jarringly proportionate to their surroundings stood around in the kitchen. As soon as one with suspiciously pink hair started turning towards him, Ranboo pulled a Toy Story maneuver. He immediately went limp as a ragdoll, dropping flat down against the wood surface beneath him.

There was a long pause.

"He's awake," the Blood God's menacing voice rattled his very bones.

"How do you know?" someone else inquired.

"Will, unless you're going soft on me, he's awake."

Shit. Ranboo made every attempt to suppress whatever fear the Blood God was detecting from him but acknowledging it alone only seemed to make grow stronger. His skin was slick with sweat beneath the impossible heat of his suit. It was like being in a greenhouse. Or an oven.

"Little hero."

The gravely voice was a stark contrast to the sing-songy tone it was forcing.

Ranboo dared to open his eyes only to find an all too familiar boar skull towering over him. A shaky sigh slipped from the sidekick's lips. His head lolled to the side like an answer to the call of darkness lulling him straight back into the state of unconscious he'd only just escaped.

A reckless pressure on his side startled him wide awake.

"Aw, don't die yet. If you keel over before we start interrogating, I owe Will twenty bucks."

Interrogating?

He really was screwed. No doubt about it. The only real question was whether the stress or the villain would do him in first.

"You'll be out a Jackson if you keep poking him like that," someone else from the kitchen pointed out.

The pressure hastily retreated.

"What'd you find on this guy?" the Blood God inquired. He canted his head like a confused puppy. "He seems kinda spineless for a hero."

Ouch. Mentally, physically, emotionally. What ways hadn't this guy wounded Ranboo?

It wasn't like the villain was even wrong. In fact, if Ranboo miraculously made it out of this alive, he swore to himself that he'd resign right then and there. Turn in his badge and what little was left of his suit and beg for his server job back.

"Nope. Our mini-man here is a ghost," a heavily accented voice replied.

"Alright, Casper, I'm going to need you to take your helmet off so we can have a little chat," the Blood God stated. Ruby ringlets in hollow eye sockets kept Ranboo pinned in place. The bright eyes cast a warm glow against the beige bone material of the skull on the villain's head.

No way in fresh hell was he taking off his helmet. It may have been busted in by the foot of the villain he'd stumbled across in the alleyway but it was the only thing standing between him and the three villains in the room with him.

"What, d'ya want me to say please?" the Blood God drawled. He brandished the dagger from his hip, giving it a skillful twirl between his fingers. Without warning, the blade was buried in the wood mere inches from Ranboo's head. "Or are ya looking for some proper motivation?"

The sidekick's heart stuttered to a halt in his chest. Where he once found fear within the red eyes bearing down on him, he was bombarded solely with promises of death. Demise. Something worse. He didn't usually make a point of considering fates worse than death but it was impossible to ignore when they were looking you straight in the face.

It was like he was frozen but couldn't stop twitching all the same.

"I-I can't," Ranboo ground out between chattering teeth. He could hardly breathe.

"Why not?" the Blood God demanded.

"Dream'll kill me if I show you my face."

The broad man let out a dark chuckle.

"You're really more scared of that homeless Teletubby than you are of me?"

There was a pause. The ever-present grin on the villain's face faltered. He leaned back only a hair's width but even that much was a mercy.

"Wait, seriously?" he asked in bewilderment. Ranboo felt the urge to apologize. Scaring people was kind of his whole brand and while he was doing a bang-up job, nothing was more terrifying than the prospect of pissing off Dream.

Someone let out a hardy laugh from the kitchen. The Blood God shot a lethal glare in their direction.

"He's more scared of a smiley face in tights than he is of you!" they wheezed. "You fell off, Techno."

The Blood God reached forward without looking. Ranboo braced himself only to find the villain's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger beside him. With disturbingly little effort, he pried the knife free of its wooden prison and threw it with inhuman grace.

With the sound of something shattering into pieces followed by an indignant squawk, the laughter ceased all at once.

"That was my favorite mug!"

The Blood God scoffed. "You say that about every mug I break."

"Stop breaking my mugs!"

"Stop making them such easy targets!"

"Oh you-"

"Uh-uh," a third voice-Phil, Ranboo presumed-interjected. "Take it outside."

"With pleasure," the Blood God snarled. He rose to his full, intimidating height. It was like he'd forgotten about Ranboo altogether. Not that he was complaining, of course. He cracked his knuckles as he strode off. Ranboo pitied whoever he was planning on squaring off against.

Two sets of footsteps retreated somewhere through the house. It wasn't until a door slammed shut that the chaos resumed, only this time it was far too muffled to make any of it out.

Ranboo was slow to push himself upright. Even so, pain zipped through his abdomen in reprimand. He drew in a hissing breath.

"Take it easy, mate," Phil prompted. He slowly came into view as he shuffled around the side of the sofa to kneel before the coffee table. Even without the costume, Ranboo easily recognized him. Only one villain in his memory bank had massive black wings like those.

Corvus.

"I want to help you but I can't really do that unless I see where you got hurt," Phil tried. He had a deceptively kind smile. When Ranboo didn't respond, he seemed to try a different approach. "The crows told me you seem to be having a bit of a glitch with your suit. Maybe I could help with that?"

Right. The crows. The whole reason this group of villains in particular seemed to have eyes everywhere was because they did. The crows were like little spies. Ranboo wasn't sure how it worked but somehow, the birds always got back to Corvus.

"Are you supposed to be...'good cop' or something?" Ranboo asked between pants.

Corvus chuckled.

"Something like that, I suppose. Look, I've been through this routine a dozen times. We take a hero, we get the info we can, the hero organization bargain for them, and we give them back with only a few strings attached. But I'd really rather not return a corpse because that would look pretty bad on us, wouldn't it? So just let me take a look, we'll get you patched up, and then you'll be on your way in no time."

So much of what Corvus said didn't make sense and yet, he made it sound like the most logical explanation he could convey. Was this gaslighting? This felt like gaslighting.

The sidekick sighed.

"Dream's not going to give you anything for me. There's plenty of recruits worth wasting the resources on but I'm not one of them."

The villain tilted his head in consideration.

"Is that so? Well, then I really should get working on those injuries if you're going to be staying a while," Corvus pointed out.

Ranboo drew in a deep breath. Weighing his options, there were only a few things within the realm of his capabilities. He could just lay there and wait for the bloodloss to pull him under, he could try to make a run for it, or he could take the suit off and pray that the villain was being genuine in their concern for his wellbeing.

None of them seemed to have an assuredly good outcome so he'd just have to go with the one that might give him the best chance of living.

He raised his hands under his helmet. The glove let out a weak chime as it connected to the mechanisms within. He drummed in a quick combinations of buttons and the lock reluctantly clicked out of place. With a deep breath, slowly raised his only method of protection up off his head.

With even more hesitation, he pulled his suit down around his ankles. He was just glad protocol called for them to wear clothes beneath the super suits. Otherwise he'd feel even more exposed than he did in that moment.

When he his gaze trailed back up to meet Corvus', he found the man gawking down at him with his hands clasped over his mouth. Did Ranboo really look that bad?

"How...how old are you?" Phil blurted. His tan complexion had faded to a sickly grey.

Ranboo chewed at his lower lip. Was he really meant to answer that? Then again, what harm would it do?

"Seventeen."

Something unreadable sparked to life in Phil's eyes.

"Does Dream know that?"

Ranboo's focus shifted elsewhere.

"I-I guess? He's the one that hired me."

Phil continued on staring for far too long before hooking his index fingers into his mouth. He let out a shrill whistle that nearly shattered Ranboo's eardrums. Right on command, a flutter of wings sounded overhead. A sleek, black bird claimed its perch on Phil's waiting arm.

"Go get Wilbur," Phil instructed.

The crow let out a caw before taking off in the direction the Blood God had gone off in.

Ranboo raked through his words with a fine-toothed comb in search of something he'd said that could have shocked Phil so badly but he came up with nothing. A not-so-convincing smile was plastered on the blonde man's face as he returned his attention to the tiny hero waiting on the coffee table.

"You just wait here, okay? Wilbur will take care of you. I just have to...er...grab the first aid kit."

The villain took off before Ranboo could even get another word in. He was left standing there wallowing in his own confusion. Ranboo had learned a thing or two about identifying a lie during his time working under Dream. The only real question that remained was:

Why was Phil lying to him?

#g/t #mcyt g/t #g/t writing #g/t angst #giant/tiny #giant/tiny writing #giant!wilbur #giant!techno #giant!philza #tiny!ranboo #accidental fearplay #intentional fearplay #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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whogavemoththerighttohyperfix · 2 years

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I have this HC that ocean has never seen any Disney movies cause her parents banned them.

the minute the choir found out she hadn’t seen any of them they binged every Disney movie with her

It also ties in with my other HC that they must watch at least one movie together a night or they will die

Originally it started out with them saying they’d go in order starting with Snow White but that never happened

Every single one of them suggested they played their favourite Disney movie first,

ocean got annoyed and ended up just making them go in alphabetical order

The other five of them all started a competition on what movie would be her favourite

Constance’s favourite movie is Winnie the Pooh, for oceans first Disney movie she sat honestly mesmerised, she absolutely loved it.

The others had a wonderful time watching this usually very “I’m so grown up and important” loose her shit over an animated bear

Mischa followed them up with Mulan , and yes Mischa did pick up her and penny and swing them around when “I’ll make a man out of you”

She loved it thought it was amazing. Honestly she wasn’t expecting to like binging them with them but it’s honestly the most fun she’d had watching movies.

Noel being the extra, France loving fucker that he is couldnt decide between beauty and the beast and hunchback of Notre Dame

they watched them both to make him shut up

Yes ocean did go on a long rant about how disgusting Claude Frollo was, she did agree with Noel on the fact it was a good movie but she did sit disgusted every scene Claude Frollo was in.

Beauty and the beast however was her favourite so far, she loved it, she laughed she cried. Enjoyed it thoroughly.

She also finally understood what song they were singing when Mischa would pick up anything.

She was also surprised on how much she loved the relationship in it (my home girl is aro ace and would never ship anything but she does think the entire thing was adorable-)

Penny’s favourite is bolt, (Alice in Wonderland is a close second) no I will not hear any one out for anything else I will stand by this still I die

Ocean thought It was amazing, she also didn’t expect it to make her cry but when mittens did her sprach about people leaving her veins she burst out in tears

She found herself humming along to the songs in it with penny who was singing them pull force.

Ricky’s favourite is actually meet the Robinsons, I will stand by this as well, he loves the future stuff, he loves the villain, he loves the singing frogs

Ricky had basically spoiled the entire movie for her before they even started cause he got excited but she didn’t mind,

Everyone in the room agreed that goob deserved better

And yes before anyone asks she did cry when mufasa died

After watching all of them? Encanto ended up being her favourite, Isabella was her favourite like anyone would have guessed.

She cried at “what else can I do?” And “surface pressure”

And for the group’s competition for what one out of their favourites she’d like the most? It was meet the Robinsons

#ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc musical #rtc headcanons #Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #constance blackwood #jane doe #penny lamb

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withoutyouimsaskia · 1 year

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Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XV.

GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey peeps. I’ve been going through previous chapters to refer back to things and I’ve noticed a worrying trend of Tumblr taking random sentences and putting them out of order. I’ve been amending them but only managed to get half way through so far... Anyway, hope you enjoy this one, it is so very soft, much needed after the last one. Have a good evening, all my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------

You remain there in the safe encirclement of Morpheus' arms, focusing on the pressure his hands exert on your lower back. The feeling of the hidden strength in his lean, lithe frame. His intoxicating scent, that is usually stimulating, is even more addicting now that you are pressed right against him.

It is sensory overload on another plane.

The embrace lasts for an indeterminate period. All sense of time has ceased. Everything you know is your sadness and his closeness.

You are a trembling, agonised collection of cells, with every nerve ending viciously vying for your attention.

Morpheus is the definition of serenity and you are the polar opposite of that adjective. If anything, right now, it feels like he is neutralising your despair, or at least helping you stop any more coming to surface and consuming your mind.

You understand that at some point, you will have to let go, and the notion of it pains you.

You nuzzle your face against his chest, and it is not lost on you at how needy the feline-like movement is.

Yet you don’t care. He doesn’t protest and the act is soothing.

The sensation of his coat against your cheek is softer and more luxurious than any material you have ever felt, even more so than cashmere. There's something else too; an otherworldly current running in the black fabric that hums with the cleansing resonance of a singing bowl.

You hold tighter still. Going from touching solely the collar of his coat to also a section of skin at his neck. It is cool under your clammy palms. A steady pulse ticks just under the pale surface; you dial into the rhythm and use it to calm yourself.

You count the beats. It takes 1000 of them before the tears eventually stop streaming and your breathing regulates.

Your grip loosens fraction by fraction as your drop in adrenaline turns your muscles from a twitching solid back to something more pliable.

Morpheus then withdraws, and the loss of contact is ache-inducing. You are immediately toying with the edge of your sleeve to distract from it, then upgrading to anxiously grasping your hands together when you feel the overwhelming emotions gaining traction again.

Seeking eyes rove across your reddened and blotchy visage. His voice is the whisper of mist on an autumn morning.

"Do you wish to talk about what happened?"

Your bottom lip quivers.

There are no words at first.

Then they come all at once.

A downpour. A deluge. A flood.

“I shouldn't have gone to that bar. Everything would be fine right now if I had listened to my needs. Been assertive instead of defaulting to being a pushover. I have so much evidence that proves that I’ve never been totally happy in those kinds of group settings and knew I wasn’t ready to be exposed to all those people, but I cared more about their opinions of me than I did about my own well being.”

Morpheus’ raven brows draw together and you can almost swear that you see a darkness flash in his eyes.

“Did someone hurt you?” He says lowly.

"Not physically," you clarify quickly before drawing a deep breath in through your nose. “I saw my ex.”

His jaw clenches at the mention of the person however, he remains silent.

“They’re engaged to someone else,” your voice is warped and creaky.

"I know I broke things off but I have been grieving our relationship and yet it seems like they've just moved on without a backwards glance.”

Your throat is thickening with uncomfortable heat.

“I guess I feel like they’ve replaced me so easily."

You swipe angrily at the tears on your face.

"I don't even know why I am reacting like this. I chose this path. I should just be happy for them, instead of dragging you back into my drama and wasting your time…”

You trail off, moving backwards one pace.

Guilt is starting to prickle in the back of your mind. Not too long ago, you had been reprimanding yourself for having less-than-platonic feelings for Morpheus. You had fantasised about kissing him, and had then gone through with it. Did that make you a hypocrite?

Tightness seizes your chest as the velocity of your mental spiral kicks up into 5th gear.

Morpheus steps forward to meet you.

"You do not have to explain your feelings to me, nor do you have to give them justification. Allow yourself to feel, Y/N. It will do you no good to smother your emotions.”

You want to believe him, to act on his advice but it is tough. You have no idea how to answer.

"I'm so sorry, Morpheus," you choke out.

His response is earnest and gentle, “You have nothing to apologise for.”

Self-loathing takes over from remorse.

“Yes I do. I put in so much fucking effort to steady myself, to quell my threat to The Dreaming and none of it has made any fucking difference. You must be so disappointed in me.”

You fix your attention on the pictures on the walls.

"Y/N, look at me."

You can’t do as he asks. You shake your head as your cheeks are wetted again.

He’s suddenly cradling the back of your head with his right hand. Willing you to connect your gaze with his.

The pull to look is potent. You acquiesce.

“This is a setback. Your progress has not been eliminated. You will stabilise again.”

The compassion in his ocean eyes is disarming.

"You are stronger than you realise, Y/N."

Your heart clenches. Maybe he is right. You have come remarkably far since the week of the night terrors.

You nod, moisture once more blurring your vision. You want to nestle back against him so you do it, sliding your arms around his slender waist.

You can feel his heart beating against the side of your face and you go back to counting the pulses. You wait until 500 of them sound before talking again.

"I should let you get back. I don't want to take up anymore of your time," you say the words against his chest.

"Come with me," he whispers.

You leave his arms, shaking your head, adamant that you cannot rely purely on him, and determined that you will not cause him anymore problems.

"You are hurting. I will not simply abandon you."

Guilt and discomfort twist your face into a grimace.

He looks at you with regal obstinacy. "I will not take no as an answer."

You appreciate that there is no getting out of this. And while it reads like Morpheus is clearly used to getting what he wants, you can also see that his persistence is coming from a place of care.

"Okay. But only for a little while."

"No, you will accompany me for the duration of every night until I am satisfied that your distress has been allayed."

"Absolutely not. I don't want to distract you."

"You would not be a distraction. I will complete my work as intended.”

Your brain is a flurry of activity, weighing up this suggestion. You are really tempted for you have really missed Morpheus.

"So it will be like job shadowing?"

"If it helps to think of it like that, then yes."

You nod slowly. “Where to first then?”

With a graceful movement of his hand, Morpheus indicates to the door.

There's a whoosh of cold air; you blink instinctively and when you recover, your surroundings have completely altered.

Lush green has been replaced by a much darker palette. Sand sits beneath your feet, midnight black in colour, buffeted into lazy swirls by a persistent breeze. There are mountains too, made up of a marl of greyish and brown rock. Low hanging storm clouds scud across a bleak looking sky, the sun barely peeking through the blanket.

It's rather desolate but breathtaking nonetheless. Completely different to the rest of the heart of the Dreaming that you have thus far seen.

You hear Morpheus’ footsteps retreating. Turning to follow, you are suddenly confronted by the truth of your location.

You are just outside of the perimeter you had spied from the palace ramparts. Positioned directly before the gates.

Gates that make all others pale in comparison.

You are gaping.

Sweeping, pointed arcs stretch up the walls and beside the doors. There are likenesses of animals and symbols that you recognise from your world. Beings and objects that you have no point of reference for. And faces. So many faces.

The detail. The scale. The history.

Stories were being told in these carvings.

Powerful emotions blossom in your soul. You are truly humbled.

You drag your wide-eyed gaze from the intricate monument to Morpheus.

A little smile pulls at his lips.

“The Gates of Horn and Ivory,” he states.

Wind whipping his coat, Morpheus strides towards the gate and lays his hands upon the pale stone.

An energy surge cuts through you, the remnants of it fizzling out for miles across the uninterrupted landscape.

He bows his head as if thinking and then stills completely.

You do not know what it is that he is doing but it feels strange to watch him so intently. You turn away.

There’s a profound urge to know if the sand here feels dissimilar to that of the waking world. You crouch down and dig your fingers down and across into the dark grains.

Something is different. You cannot pinpoint what. Maybe the grain size. Maybe the weight.

You go to scoop up more but Morpheus is back at your side.

You straighten quickly, brushing your gritty hand against your trousers.

“Where to next?”

----------------------

"I wish that I could fix it for you but instead I'll be right here coming through."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee @ponyboys-sunsets @fangirlmary @littledollll @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster @rosaren2498 @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream @madiebear @sandman-33 @sallysal9 @asiludida164

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lightning-and-sparks · 6 months

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I realized that I use a lot of older songs in TATOTRTT so here is what they mean.

Message in the Bottle - The Police: This song is about loneliness and how it’s hard to reach out and when you eventually do you come to realize that everyone is lonely too and you aren’t the only one feeling this way. Obviously, I picked this song because the subject of the chapter was Jack getting hit with a bottle and it was funny. The bottle itself was also technically a “message.”

Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd: I love this song so much, it was written about the protagonist's struggle with drugs and how it’s affecting their performance. Originally, I saw it more as some external force trying to fix the protagonist and help them back to their former glory. It felt fitting for a hospital scene.

Have a Cigar - Pink Floyd: I’ll admit this chapter had the wrong name for a while, I got it confused with something else so I apologize for it saying “lipstick stains on cigarettes” This song is also about the pressure to perform and how it becomes your responsibility to keep entertaining. This chapter has Jack struggle with the negatives of his career and status. Throughout this section, he does toggle with the notion of not finishing the tour

What I like about you - The Romantics: This chapter is more laid back and takes a break from the heavier content and focuses on the dynamic between Si’ha and Wander. Wander eventually confesses to his mother about his feelings and the song is about realizing that he does have these romantic feelings. Also, this song is a banger. It fits with the dance aesthetic too lol

Canary In a Coal Mine - The Police: This is honestly one of my favorite songs ever, a little history on it is that when people would go into the mines they’d bring a cage of canaries. The birds have smaller lungs; they would die if the air was toxic and when they stopped singing the miners knew when to get out. To the canaries, this was a death sentence. Jack in this fic is the canary, when he stops singing it becomes an issue. Wander & co are essentially going into that toxic environment and sparing him from his fate as a canary in a coal mine.

Cheri, Cheri, Lady - Modern Talking: This song was written when the lead singer saw the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen while on a trip to Miami. The song is about how confusing and difficult love and romantic feelings can be, but how the struggle is worth it. Jack and Wander have those feelings but they’re not able to express it with words, and like the writer of the song; lack the courage to talk to the woman. It’s also about how these feelings don’t care about the timing. Eventually, Jack leaves just like the woman in the song.

Working Man - Rush: I’m a huge Rush fan and had to weave some of them in, this song is about how one must keep on working regardless of how much they don’t like it. They don’t have a choice and need to keep going, their social life suffers and also their mental state. Jack had to get back in front of cameras and while in front of them be someone else. He is pulled away from his friends and doesn’t seem to have any time for anything else.

Call me - Blondie: On the surface this song kind of reads as a love song, in actuality it about a male prostitute which I didn’t even realize till I googled it. Jack obviously isn’t a prostitute but the way he is used and exploited makes him seem like one. Wander’s confession seems like my first idea of this song; which is genuine and a love song about being reliable. By the end that confession gets distorted.

While My Guitar Gently Weeps - The Beatles: I felt that this song had a lot of subtext about being exploited and altered into something you’re not. I feel like Jack is being changed to fit into what he needs to be as he struggles to decide if he wants his career or romantic relationship more.

#just dance 2023 #jack rose just dance #fanfic #jd sara #jd brezziana #wanderlust #jd mihaly

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greenandhazy · 10 months

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I just saw this amazing 3zun Surface Pressure art by @littlesmartart and it occurs to me that Jin Guangyao could easily take over a good chunk of the Encanto soundtrack all on his own

1. The Family Madrigal Lanling Jin

Zixuan and Zixun One strong, one graceful, perfect in every way Zixuan grows a flower, the town goes wild He's a perfect golden child And Zixun's super strong The beauty and the brawn do no wrong

Bonus:

Audience: Guangyao, what about your gift??? Jin Guangyao: Well... Jin Guangshan: He doesn't have one Jin Guangyao: 🙃

2. Waiting on a Miracle (For My Dad To Not Be A Total Asshole)

Don't be upset or mad at all Don't feel regret or sad at all Hey I'm still finally part of the family Madrigal Lanling Jin And I'm fine, I am totally fine I will stand on the side as you shine I’m not fine, I’m not fine

3. Surface Pressure [copies + pastes the full text of the lyrics with the word "older" changed to "a bastard," then additionally tattoos the sentence "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service" onto Jin Guangyao's forehead]

4. We Don't Talk About Bruno Meng Yao this is the one where Jin Zixuan comes home from the Gusu Lan lectures and is like "hey uh... remember that kid you almost killed on my birthday a while back? can we like... talk about that? because I think it's about to become plot-relevant" and everyone sings about how no they're not going to talk about that

5. What Else Can I Do? (feat. supportive shidi Xue Yang)

I just made something unexpected Something sharp, something new It's not symmetrical or perfect But it's beautiful and it's mine [it's a fierce corpse] What else can I do? [can I turn my dad into a corpse]

6. Dos Oruguitas hmmm. okay I guess this one doesn't really fit his storyline specifically but it could be a banger "trying to comfort Jiang Yanli at Jin Zixuan's funeral" song if we wanted to lean into that

7. All Of You nope this one doesn't happen. too much growth and remorse and forgiveness to apply to the Jin.

#jin guangyao #the untamed #lanling jin #jin zixuan

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jihopesjoint · 1 year

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okay i choose rose but i'm not interested in hearing about your romantic crush i want to hear you wax poetic about either ur biggest bts crush or general fandom crush you have thank u so much

matchy is choosing chaos in the inbox tonight as if i needed an opportunity to wax poetic about park jimin. jimin THEE stallion

IN HONOR OF FACE DROPPING TONIGHT I AM POSTING MY ANSWER

i was actually talking to @eoieopda recently about how i feel bad sometimes about having jimin as my bias because i think hyung line always needs more credit than they get, and i don't want the assumption to be made about me that i don't love and appreciate EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE MEN. i'm not gonna get too deep into that conversation, but it basically came down to "you could write essays on jimin." and i CAN. and SO I SHALL!!!!!!

jimin is the love of my life. in this essay, i will- tell you why.

i'll start easy. surface-level. have you seen him dance? idk. idk idk idk, he just puts me into a fucking trance every time. that black swan solo in mots on:e brings a tear to thine eye. he is the swan, that song is one of his biggest fears. he's got "youth" and "young forever" tattooed on him. you can age out of dancing very quickly if you're not careful. I'M ALREADY DIGRESSING OKAY ANYWAY. he has not let his background in contemporary dance hold him back in any way when becoming an idol. in fact, he's made a point of making his background his strength. hip-hop, but make it ~pretty~.

*ahem* jimin has been defying gender stereotypes since day one. 🗣️ yes, he felt pressured to express his gender identity in a hypermasculine way because that’s how bts was presenting at the time. and he was trying SO hard. but even outside of that, he was always going against stupid ideas of gender. i always think of that moment in bon voyage 1 (i think?) when the members were saying that men don’t check their selfies. and jimin was like, “there you go again. what on earth is masculinity?” i feel like we can attribute A LOT of bts’s transformation from the school trilogy to every era afterward to jimin’s presence in the group. he’s been there the whole time telling the members to challenge their views of what it means to be a man. they support each other, so when jimin wanted to express himself in a more authentic way, they encouraged him. they also learn from each other, so when they saw jimin leaning into that blend of the masculine and the feminine, they saw that they could do the same because it’s all fucking arbitrary. jimin still identifies as male. wearing the color pink and jewelry and makeup and openly showing affection don’t take away from that.

AND THAT’S WHY JIMIN’S VOICE IS SO FUCKING INTEGRAL TO THIS GROUP. oh my god dude. the range that he fucking has? and the majority of the time he chooses to sing in his upper register and falsetto? who the FUCK ELSE is doing that? not your fave, i’ll tell you that much.

jimin provides a level of comfort that i aspire to (and we should all aspire to). the members are all close and have individual relationships with each other, of COURSE. but jimin just seems to make each member feel uniquely special to him in their presence. i don’t know how else to word that. i truly think he is the glue that keeps bts together (not that i think they would disband without him or anything). but he's a libra (with a cancer rising). libras are mediators. libra prioritizes harmony, and cancer prioritizes comfort. and then his gemini moon, which prioritizes connection and communication. so i would imagine that the members just naturally gravitate to him for that kind of comfort and connection. AND THEN HE ENDLESSLY GIVES THAT SAME AMOUNT OF COMFORT TO MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF PEOPLE ALL THE TIME LIKE HOW??????

and then OH AND THEN he's just the funniest person alive easily like he's just so silly and light-hearted and how does one person just contain so many multitudes you know? there are so many sides to him (dare i say... faces). and i don't need to get into all the ways that i specifically relate to him because i think so many of us do. but i'm just so happy for him as he continues to understand himself and exhibit more sides to himself and HE IS THE LOVE OF MY FUCKING LIFE OKAY YOU CAN TELL THAT I RAN DRY HERE AT THE END BUT I JUST CAN'T PUT IT INTO WORDS ANYMORE PARK JIMIN I LOVE YOU

#this message in my inbox is like 2 days old i'm so sorry #MATCHYYYYY #park jimin

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 1 year

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Back again with more spicy bingo, this time for “Toys”. Quick question: anyone else remember Bilbo describing in the book how he had uncomfortable dreams that night listening to Thorin’s singing? 😏

Pairing: Bilbo x Thorin

Words: 1418

Warnings: Sex Toys (duh), Bondage

Bilbo felt a shiver travel down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold golden collar gripping his neck. His eyes were glued to Thorin’s broad back as the dwarf let him deeper into the mountain, the only light coming from the torches bracketed through the hall sparsely. A tug came from the chain held in Thorin’s hand, and Bilbo felt himself whimper as arousal burned deep in his belly. Hearing him, the dwarf king threw a smirk over his shoulder.

“Save something for the dungeon, Burglar.”

“That’s what you hired me to do though. I stole…for you.” BIlbo rasped.

Thorin’s grin spread. “Then perhaps you should have read your contract more thoroughly. All crimes are punishable in my kingdom…but I will certainly endeavor to make this as pleasurable as I can considering the circumstances.”

They finally reached a door, and before Bilbo could register that this was their destination, Thorin had him pushed up against the round wooden surface, plunging his tongue into Bilbo’s mouth. It was all he could do to hang onto the dwarf’s shoulders as Thorin’s hands roamed down his back, cupping his butt, before pushing at his thighs to start their journey back up his front. A deep moan escaped him as he pushed back, craving more. Anything and everything this dwarf could give him, and that’s when he realized he was already completely naked.

Thorin spun him around, his cheek pressing up against the barrier as his arms were pulled behind his back and cuffed in unyielding metal. Thorin’s breath and beard tickled his shoulder as the dwarf leaned to nuzzle his neck and whisper in his ear.

“Let’s begin.”

The door was opened to reveal a stone room lit only by the roaring fire and full of all sorts of metallic objects that Bilbo could only guess at their purpose. He did know he was eager to find out though. There was an odd, cushioned table in the middle of the room that Thorin led Bilbo to, lightly and yet insistently, pushing on his back, until he was bent over it, ass in the air. The chain fastened to his neck was attached to a hook in the ground, and his ankles were chained to a leg of the table. Bilbo was completely powerless to anything the dwarf wanted to do now, and the thrill that came from it rushed straight to his cock.

“Hold on, Burglar. I don’t want you to get too excited and ruin all the fun.” Thorin remarked as he took a golden ring and fastened it around Bilbo’s engorged flesh.

Bilbo squirmed against the uncomfortable pressure before trying to relax as much as he could.

“Do you treat all of your prisoners so well?” Bilbo purred.

Thorin chuckled. “I dare say you’re a special case. In fact, I’ll offer you a choice I don’t usually extend to those I have at my mercy. Gag or no?”

Bilbo felt as if there was lightning under his skin as Thorin’s hand ran a pathway down his back to rest on a single butt cheek. His other hand held a golden ball attached to leather straps that would go both around his head and over the top of it. Bilbo hesitated, feeling his mouth water at mere consideration of that thing stretching his jaw wide. However, ultimately he decided against it…this time. Thorin laughed again as he put it away, leaning over to kiss Bilbo’s shoulder.

“You’re going to be fun to play with, Burglar.”

Bilbo had to have blacked out or something, because the next thing he was aware of was a slight burn in his rectum as Thorin removed his three fingers with a wet squelch. Bilbo’s dick was so painfully hard straining to find any sort of friction or relief from the ring holding it tightly.

“This will be a bit of a stretch. Are you ready, Burglar?”

Bilbo cried out as something cold and unyielding was set against his butthole and inch by inch moved forward inside. He could feel his muscles spasming against the object as he tried his hardest to push back only to be held tightly to the table.

“Just relax.” Thorin cooed, his hand rubbing soothing circles into Bilbo’s back.

The hobbit tried his hardest, warring between the uncomfortable feeling and his desire for more. Finally, after such an agonizingly slow pace, the object was fully seated. Thorin gave it a slight twist, only for Bilbo to shout at the waves of pleasure the simple act brought. Thorin immediately let go of the toy at that point so that it sat just out of reach of that spot.

“I think you’ll enjoy this.” Thorin promised, his footsteps carrying him away.

Feeling rather affronted at being left like this, Bilbo tried to squirm and pull against his bonds just wanting to feel that gut-tightening feeling once more. However, before he could be too put out, Thorin returned, turning Bilbo’s head to where he could see him. The dwarf king was smirking at the sight of Bilbo laid out before him, and in his hand was some sort of two-pronged fork that was somehow alive.

“This creates vibrations when struck.” Thorin explained as he demonstrated it against the frame of the table. “So when I strike it, and then hold it right here…”

A sound far too inhumane to be accurately described as a scream tore from Bilbo’s throat as the toy inside him began to vibrate so intensely that it struck that spot inside him again and again and again. He felt himself starting to dry sob as the need to cum became almost overwhelming. However, Thorin’s little device never let up and the pressure created by the ring seemed to somehow tighten to an almost painful degree. And then the dwarf began to sing.

“Far over the Misty Mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day. To seek our pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells. While hammers fell like ringing bells. In places deep, where dark things sleep. In hollow halls beneath the fells.”

There was a relief so intense that Bilbo’s vision actually went white…

***

“So that’s when I woke up to discover a mess in my pants and you dwarves had already left. I realized at that point that I would be missing out on possibly one of the most thrilling adventures of my life, even if there wasn’t a sex dungeon waiting at the end for me.”

Bilbo turned his head to the side, finally deciding to gauge his husband’s reaction. Even though they had done plenty together, he couldn’t fight the warmth on his cheeks, recalling this particular fantasy. Luckily for him, any small amount of embarrassment he may be feeling was completely wiped clean at the comical way Thorin was staring at him. His jaw dropped wide, his face flushed, and his eyes hungry.

“If you want a sex dungeon, I can absolutely have a sex dungeon made.” Thorin rasped. “In fact, I’ll have one commissioned right now!”

“Thorin, it’s the middle of the night.” Bilbo laughed.

“I don’t care!” He cried, jumping to his feet, seeming to forget he was completely naked as he rushed to his desk for quill and parchment. “The stonemasons can’t refuse an order from their king, and I’ll forge the toys myself if I have to!”

“Thorin.” Bilbo tried again, a bit firmer this time. “It’s late. You have a very sated and content hobbit right here for now. Come back to bed. You can build your sex dungeon tomorrow.”

Thorin hesitated, the desire written so plainly across his face before sighing and conceding to Bilbo’s wishes. As he crawled back under the furs, Bilbo scooted closer until his back was pressed against Thorin’s chest. Sighing in pleasure, Bilbo let his eyes close, preparing for sleep. Then Thorin started to hum that damn song, and Bilbo’s eyes flew open as his cock twitched in interest.

“I don’t think it would be beneficial to condition me to your ‘Refugee Song’ in such a way.” Bilbo complained with a groan.

“I just couldn’t help thinking…I have a silver chain I could probably make use of.” Thorin remarked, tracing Bilbo’s wrists. “And a strap of leather that probably would fit perfectly across that pert mouth of yours…”

Bilbo leaned against him, downright moaning at this point.

“Go.” He ordered, watching his husband fly from the bed. “And get more oil!”

Stop me from getting a bingo. Next update is for the sweet bingo card on Friday.

#sweet and spicy bingo #the hobbit #bagginshield #spicy content #finally something that isn't bathed completely in humor #i've only got 2 spicy prompts left #unless you send me requests...

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generalwildcat · 1 year

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Who do you think should sing “Scream” from HSM3 EJ or Ricky and why? I know EJ already graduate high school and he won’t be in the musical but it is still possible he could be the one that sings the song.

I gotta think about this one a minute. This is probably gonna be a bit....

From the standpoint of the series thus far, Ricky makes the most sense. He has played Troy already, he's done Troy's songs, he's been the lead, he's had how many big numbers...we know that Joshua Bassett can handle singing it. I can totally picture it.

From the emotional standpoint of the song, it better suits EJ. We know how much conflict EJ has. We know how much he's been struggling. We know how much pressure there is on him. On a surface level, it's not too different from Troy. And, likewise, we know Matt Cornett could sing the song just as well.

Scream is all about inner conflict. It was a massive number in HSM3. We couldn't just hear the confusion and struggle in Troy's voice. We could see it. His movements, his angst, even the scenery and the camera angles. Troy was stuck once again between the person he was expected to be and the person he wanted to be. Even though everyone accepted him as a 'musical singer person', they still figured he was going to pursue basketball. Because before he was even a musical singer person, he was the basketball guy. Music was so obviously just a side thing, right? But Troy was starting to learn something about himself. He enjoyed music. He enjoyed performing. With Gabriella, a whole new world was opened up to him. He was starting to think that maybe music could be part of his future. Maybe that's what he was meant to do. But the thing was, he still enjoyed basketball. He still wanted it in his life. But surely he couldn't have both. (Never mind that he was also struggling with Gabriella being so far away at Stanford, that's a whole other layer. But for the purposes of the song specifically, i'm focusing on the inner turmoil between the I Want and the I Should.)

Now at this specific point in time, with the end of the third season, i don't think Ricky or EJ have the exact same connection to the song that warrants one of them singing it over the other. But we know how much can change over the course of a season so anything can lead any of them to Scream (both singing Scream and literally screaming).

While we did see Ricky struggling with whether or not he should tell Gina how he felt about her during Season 3, as of the end of the season that already reached its conclusion. Does Ricky have anything else in him that could lead to Scream? To him needing that moment? While he does have conflict (as every character does), i don't think there's one specific thing sticking out that climaxes to a Scream moment. His dad's continuing relationship with Miss Jenn (i love her) and how he really feels about that; pressure to do this relationship with Gina right because he knows he not only screwed up with her before but he also made mistakes with Nini so he wants to get this right (no Frozen pun intended, it just magically happened); if he does play Troy again, can he do that right, as in can he do better than the first musical; what does his future look like, or, one step further, does he know what he's doing with his future. While those are all legitimate concerns and thoughts, again, i think how everything is handled, how the story goes, and how the season plays out determines if any of those or something yet to be seen/that i haven't mentioned determines wanting or expecting Scream from him.

Contradictory, EJ has had some of the biggest struggles of any character. And all throughout the course of one season. There is a lot that can bring him to Scream. To needing to Scream. There's the aftermath of the documentary getting released; how's that going to affect him; how does, if at all, it affect his relationship further with his dad; what does this mean for his future; how does EJ as a person deal with everything, both mentally and emotionally. There's the relationship between him and his dad that already exists; we know how much Cash expects of EJ; we saw how strained their relationship was in Season 3; we know that, even though his dad says one thing he goes back on it (yes you can take a gap year no wait actually i don't approve of that after all, you're going to a fancy pants school so you can be a real man (an exaggeration but you get what i mean)). EJ did graduate, but he's not going to college right away...so what happens now? And, if his primary support system was Val, who does he have to lean on now? What does he specifically have to look forward to?

From specifically the emotional standpoint, that ferocity and angst and drama behind the song itself? At this moment, i lean slightly more towards EJ singing Scream. It feels like there's more of a buildup to that from him compared to Ricky. As we've seen with the past few seasons, a person doesn't need to be in the musical or play a certain character to get their song. There are other ways of doing that and, for the most part, they've all been done well. So with that in mind, i agree that there's a chance it could end up being EJ. And, especially with the range of emotions he's had throughout Season 3, i'm excited to see how EJ would handle it.

From specifically the wanting aspect? Who i'd want to sing Scream? I lean more towards expecting Ricky to sing it. Whether i want that or not? I think it seems like i know who i want, but that doesn't mean that's who i do want or that i'm going to stick with that. For me, it's mostly gonna come down to the story. But at the end of the day, i'm just going to get excited when someone starts singing the song.... Or any song from the movie, to be honest 😆

Am i looking too much into this? Probably. For all i know, i'm trying to read so much in between the lines and over think it that i'm missing the obvious answer right in front of my face. What i do know is, from a musical and acting standpoint, while Joshua and Matt are no Zac Efron, both of them have enough ability to do the song justice. The trick is going to make us believe them the way that we believed Troy without trying to be Troy.

Or, you know, if they really wanted to throw us for a loop they could just have both Ricky and EJ singing the song and turning it into a duet where we see both of them struggling before they ultimately come together. But there's no way in hell that's gonna happen 🤣

#high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts #hsm3 #high school musical 3 #scream #ricky bowen #joshua bassett #ej caswell #matt cornett #i'm thinking way too much about this

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 2 years

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Hey, can I request a Bucky or Loki with reader? She works as an admin for the team and schedules events or meet ups between them and requestees. Soon after her first year with the team, she found out that she was abused by her parents her entire childhood. She started to withdraw and spiral downward from the confusion and pain. Loki notices first and tries to help. He enlists Bucky to help figure out what is going on as well. One day, they hear her in her room singing Surface Pressure... 1/2

2/2 .. Singing Surface Pressure from Encanto in the living room. By the end of the song, she's crying. As she starts to cry, she just keeps asking: "Why? Why can't you love me? You wished that there was only two. You had four and you wanted two. Why did you hate me after I was 3 papa? Why did you still hurt me mom? I thought you loved me." From there, establish fluffiness somehow. I'm sorry, a lot of this legit happened with me. :( But I think it might be able to help others too. Thank you!

Oh anon, I'm so sorry you're going through such a horrible experience 💚 I can only imagine what you're feeling. I hope that you have friends and loved ones in your life who are supporting you through this ordeal!

I'm unfortunately not taking new prompts at the moment - with a baby on the way I need to get a sense of how many current prompts I can complete before opening to new ones, since there will be a lot of big changes in my life in the coming months. I'm also not sure I'm the right writer to write this prompt, as I have very little experience in my own life with family trauma and abuse - I don't feel that I could take on this topic and do it justice.

I do want to post your prompt here to see if there is another writer who feels that they could take on this story. There are so many amazing writers in the community - I hope that this prompt resonates with someone else who is able to write it for you 💚

Please stay strong, and don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it! I've asked for help for much lesser traumas than what you're experiencing 💚

#sweet anon asks #ask prompts #seeking a writer to take this on

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akillysheel · 2 years

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You Can’t Fool Me. ❜ ( 1/75 )

Summary: Kip gets more than she bargained for when she steals a man’s wallet. Characters: Kip, Jagger. Prompt: ❝ You can’t fool me. ❞ Warnings: Threat, mild violence, references to drugs and volatile mood swings.

A/N: I started a new drabble challenge in the hopes that it’ll get me out of a writer’s block! There’re no set characters nor prompts, but I think a lot of them will focus on Kip and Simon and the people in their lives, as well as their eventual crossover.

Kip winces as her face is pushed into the wall, its uneven surface digging into the soft skin of her cheek. “Hey, stop! That HURTS, you jerk!”

The stranger lets out a cold, humourless laugh, one that digs into her almost as much as the scratchy concrete does. Most houses in Leylan are sanded clean and even, though the alleyways are sometimes neglected. Why dedicate outstanding effort to places fit only to house their garbage cans? They’re a fussy breed, but they draw the line at futile endeavours.

His gloved hand is hot and heavy against the back of her head, fingers curling into her thick lavender hair and tugging her harshly upright. Her heart pounds like a drum as her back melds tight against his front. Fear tastes like the inner wall of a chimney, thick and ashen on her tongue as she clutches the neck of her keytar case for all it’s worth. She tries to tell herself that she doesn’t claim it, that it can’t take over and make her weak, but she’s terrified of this man.

“Let’s try this again.” His voice is smooth, singed deep with a mocking calm. “My produce. Where is it?”

“I told you I DON’T KNOW!” She struggles then– attempts to tug her keytar loose and swing it at him, but she isn’t quick enough. His large hand catches her wrist and bends her arm behind her head at an angle that borders on unnatural. Kip is a lot of things: a smart-mouthed pick-pocket, a darling sister, a talented musician - but she isn’t a masochist. Her pain tolerance has always been horrid, and the idea of having her bone snapped in a shady back alley has a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead, breath coming out in short, shallow puffs. “L-Let go, let me go–”

“See, I want to! I do. But that guy you looted–” He pauses to dig his thumb into her wrist, hard, as if he’s attempting to nestle it between the tendons without opening her up first. “He works for me. I’ve got to protect my own. And my business.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kip blubbers, knees wobbling. The last thing she wants to do right now is cry, but her resolve is crumbling fast. She can deal with rude people all day long, but big men that are morally bankrupt enough to get physical with her? It quickly becomes apparent how little she is in comparison.

“Mm… nah. I don't believe you. You can’t fool me.”

A strangled cry leaves her as he slowly applies pressure to her already-aching arm, fat tears stinging the corners of her eyes before rolling down her cheeks. “I–I don’t! I swear, I j–just took his wallet! I didn’t want anything else– I d-don’t know who you are!”

The man hesitates for a moment. The streets may have dulled his empathy somewhat, but they haven’t turned him into stone. He knows crying when he hears it. If this woman is lying, she’s quite the talented actress - and he gathers, from the instrument slung across her middle, that her skills lie in other areas. Slowly, he releases her, shoving her away from him with a callous thrust of his forearm. As soon as she makes impact with the wall behind her, she all but crumbles against it, legs shaking so hard that it’s a wonder she remains standing at all.

“Speak,” he demands tersely, shoulders squared in case she attempts to swing at him again. If she does, he’ll make sure it’s the last move she ever makes. “Who the fuck are you? Hm? Why’d you rob him if not for the spice?”

Kip stares up at him as if she’s seen a ghost. “S-Spice?”

Things are starting to click into place, albeit gradually. The shady back alley, the man’s cold exterior, this obsession with brotherhood and money and belonging… she’d unwittingly gotten her hands on more than she bargained for when she stole that man’s wallet. Not that she’d even known, for she’d emptied it of bills and coins before tossing it into a gutter. She sniffles pathetically, her arm (the one that hadn’t been bent behind her head like a makeshift boomerang) swiping across her face in an effort to rid it of tears. Her skin feels clammy to the touch. “No, I… I don’t do things like that. I–I just needed money.”

“You make money by selling those tabs, idiot.” He’s growing increasingly impatient with this girl, and the more she talks, the more he fears what he’ll have to do to keep her silent. He doesn’t take any pleasure in hurting people. Pride, perhaps, but not pleasure.

“Look, I didn’t know. I didn’t!” She grits her teeth, sharp canines bared in the form of a fierce snarl in spite of her red-rimmed eyes. She’s through with grovelling - and she’s through with this man’s accusations, too. He may be a street-rat, may have subscribed to a life of crime and debauchery, but her only sin is stealing cash to feed herself and her brother. “Look at me! I’m a low-life wannabe musician. I’m playing gigs in shitty bars with ten people in them at max. I have no money! I have no university degree! I have NOTHING! I have my brother and that’s it. You think I know ANYTHING about drugs or gangs or what part of town you run? I just want to pay rent.” She clamps her teeth over the tip of her tongue until the urge to cry again passes. “I know it’s wrong to steal. Just like you probably know it's wrong to sell these things. But I need to live. What else can I do?!”

There are several answers to that question, but he dares not say any of them. He's in a position where most of them can be thrown back in his face. Just get a regular old job. Stop putting others at risk. Just pick a different target.

He pinches the space between his eyes with a grunt of irritation. “At least give the guy his damn wallet back. Where is it?”

“I threw it away somewhere…”

He stares at her as if she’s spoken a foreign language, brow knitting with confusion before it becomes a hateful crease. “You stole it just to toss it?”

“I didn’t wanna be caught with ID that wasn’t mine, s-so I emptied it of cash and then threw it away.”

“There were eight tabs in there, you idiot! You’re telling me you didn’t see them while emptying his fucking wallet?!” He leans in close, and she instinctively backs away, pressing herself tight against the wall. Her teal eyes are blown wide with fear, her fingers closed tight around the neck of her instrument. “Do you have any idea how much money down the drain that is?! Shit’s EXPENSIVE!”

“I–I’m sorry–”

“Oh, you’re sorry!” He throws his arms upwards, and the need for subtlety leaves him completely. “Pack it up, fellas! The girl’s sorry!” Predictably, nobody comes running. Leylan may be a communal place, but people know better than to interrupt the goings-on in dingy sside-streets. There’s a reason that people like him operate in the shadows of dumpsters. He thrusts a finger so close to her face that Kip worries it’s going to go straight into her eye. “You owe me a lot of money, lady.”

“B–But I don’t have any…” It’s all but a whisper, watery and frail. She has very little to her name. An apartment she shares with Basil; an old treehouse that has no monetary value; the most she could do is attempt to pawn off some of the retro consoles sitting in that place, though it would break her heart to do so.

“Then you’d best make some,” the man hisses, pointing at her keytar. “I’m sure you can–”

“No!” Kip draws the instrument protectively behind her, shielding it from view. Her face is the equivalent of a pond’s rippling surface, cycling through emotions so quickly that it’s all but imperceptible. She wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to drop to her knees and beg– and yet she wants to do none of them, disgusted by the thought of giving into this man and his less-than-glowing personality. She’s grown to oppose those that are mean, and he has to be the most unpleasant person she’s crossed paths with in a long time.

… but this is her mess. Whether it was intentional or not, the result is irrefutable. Feeling guilty for being the cause of a drug dealer’s misery is arguably misplaced, but Kip hates to be at the centre of another’s inconvenience. Besides, she may not be interested in what he’s selling, but it isn’t as if stealing is much better. Two wrongs evidently don’t make a right.

Kip sucks in a steady breath, trying her best to look distinctly more adult than she feels. “I can work for you.”

Her eyes are trained on his face in spite of the mounting urge to run. She watches it change like the seasons, the kink in his brow gradually smoothing out, mouth twitching upwards with mirth. His unpredictable emotions threaten her almost as much as his physical build does.

“That’s less bad to you than selling your instrument?” His tone performs a dance, light and airy in spite of the grim arrangement forming between them. If nothing else, this girl is interesting. He’s seldom met somebody who has no interest in drugs that’ll then throw themselves into his path, not even out of necessity.

Hollowly, Kip nods. “This thing’s all I have that’s mine. It’s front and centre in everything that I do. If I lose it, I won’t be able to do gigs or…” Against her better judgement, she feels her face heat up with slight embarrassment. “Or post videos online…”

“Ugh, you’re one of those people… figures.”

She very nearly stamps her foot and yells at him to shut up, but her sense of self-preservation is thankfully just a little too sharp to do so. Instead, she swallows hard, like forcing down a bitter spoonful of medicine, before straightening her spine even further. She won’t be intimidated by him.

“I can do it. If I owe you money, I can work for you until I pay off my debt.” She lets a confident smile stretch across her face, despite the fact that she couldn’t possibly be further out of her depth. “How much do I owe you?”

“Around 40,000 paals.”

“What?!” And there goes the confident smile, replaced with an expression so stunned that it almost evokes pity from the man. “For eight tabs? What the hell is that extortion?!”

“Hey, I deal, I know how much it is. You clearly don’t understand what it takes to make this shit so pipe down, tiny.” His voice is back to that low, dangerous whir, and Kip backs off much like she would from a hungry lion. “You’re noisy, you know. It’s really off-putting.” A smirk crosses his face then. “But you’re fast, too. And street-smart. They’re two traits you need to do well out here. I think you could do it.”

He won’t admit it to her face, but he feels bad for her. She’s a prime example of someone who’s suffering the brunt of karma early, and probably disproportionately. She looks young and arguably as desperate as she makes out, clad in nothing but a muddied red jacket that is miles too big for her, cheap leggings and boots that look about ready to fall apart. It contrasts his suave black coat and his tailored waistcoat so plainly that it’s ugly. He wonders briefly if her brother has anything to do with this apparent poverty. Why is it only her getting her hands dirty for the sake of obtaining cash? If they live together, they’re stuck in the same space, in the same circumstances. What is he doing to help?

“... fine,” he says eventually, nodding. “I’ll take you on. But you won’t see a single coin of what you earn, understand? It's mine.”

Kip gulps and begrudgingly nods her head, only partially relieved when he claps and smiles. It’s wide this time, arguably real, but the veil of pleasantry is so thin that it’s all but translucent. She can see the shark beyond it, all black-eyed and jagged-toothed.

“Great! Then meet me here tomorrow. 7AM sharp. Don’t be late. If you are…”

“I won’t be!” Kip interrupts, waving her hands in a desperate attempt to appease him. She’s normally not one to take threats seriously, but he’s already proven that he can and will hurt her if she does something that he doesn’t like. She makes an attempt to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. “I’ll be here. B-Bright and early…”

He knocks her chin gently with a gloved hand, as if greeting a pet dog, before turning his back on her. To him, there’s no reason to worry about letting her go; he’s made his intentions clear. She’ll be seeing more of him regardless of the choice she makes. “I hope so. A young lady disappearing isn’t something I want to be hearing about on the radio, you know. What a buzzkill when you’re just trying to have your morning coffee, right?”

Kip deflates, the pin-prick tip of his threat popping what’s left of her resolve like a balloon.

I’m dead. I’m so, very dead.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #short story #drabble challenge #oc story #original cast #fandomless oc story #drabble #drabble challenge ;#kip ;#terrence ;#tomorrow ;

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