#i spent so long writing this

[darkfluffydragon]

More lore on shadow milk cookie and pure vanilla cookie and wind aecher cookie also since pure vanilla cookie rules the vanilla kingdom what will happen to it and how will the republic and the ancient cookies react to the beast... Please give me lore I crave for it

I have a lot of drawings planned for this au, but actually getting to do them is a whole other thing. I keep getting distracted by little side quests, and my motivation jumps from one project to another faster than I can keep up. Though, most of the little comics are seperate scenarios that occur in the au, focused around the trio.

Despite this, I can still share some of the lore through writing form >:D

I’ll start with the question of how exactly Shadow Milk Cookie managed to influence Pure Vanilla’s Souljam so easily. In the original story, Pure Vanilla resists Shadow Milk with White Lily’s help. In the Phantasmagoria AU, Shadow Milk Cookie tries again and succeeds.

There’s one main factor (or two), that contributed to this. Both of which happened long before the Beastyeast episodes. It happened during the Dark Flour War, when Pure Vanilla Cookie used Dark Moon Magic to banish Dark Enchantress and sacrifice himself. Dark Moon Magic taints the soul here, and the spell had a far greater consequence than anyone realised. Those imperfections in the Light of Truth gave Shadow Milk the perfect opening to sneak his way in and achieve victory.

Or perhaps, the true catalyst was the academy. When Pure Vanilla Cookie snuck into the restricted section and discovered knowledge long buried and lost.

Next up, Windy! Shadow Milk Cookie has met Wind Archer in the past. Briefly, at least. As a scholar and seeker of knowledge, he would have tried to find a way to meet Millennial Tree Cookie. Though he would only succeed when he becomes truly desperate to stop the corruption plaguing him and his friends. He would plead for an audience with the god, and upon meeting him, would be told that they could not help him. That the apparently all-knowing god could not help them because they were creations of the witches, who even the gods themselves did not truly understand.

All those nights of scouring ancient texts, all the weeks, months, perhaps even years, of clinging onto that false hope. It would cause Shadow Milk to feel resentment at the unfair situation. They did not ask for this power, they were simply created with it. What had they done to deserve such punishment? Did they not do everything the witches asked them to do? Why were the witches not helping them?’

He would want someone to resent, someone more tangible than the witches that created them. Who else but the god that stood before him? The grudge would remain, even after centuries had passed in the seal. It would remain long enough that when he comes across the guardian once more, he would gleefully take the wind god and break him at the first chance he had. Anything to provoke Millennial Tree Cookie, who had denied him the salvation he begged for all those eons ago.

Does Pure Vanilla Cookie still love White Lily Cookie? The answer to this is, at first, simple: No. He does not love White Lily, not anymore. Shadow Milk Cookie knew that the affection was a variable, one that had ruined his first attempts at gaining control. He would remove it as soon as possible, to cement his control. Pure Vanilla Cookie is quite literally unable to love White Lily anymore. Surprisingly enough, Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t deem the bond he held with the other ancients much of a threat to his manipulations, so he left those relatively untouched.

While Pure Vanilla isn’t able to love White Lily anymore, it doesn’t mean he’s lost any feelings he had for her. They’re still there. Specifically, he’s in love with the memory of her. He remembers how he used to love her, how he had waited so long for her. How he remained stubborn in his choice of love. Pure Vanilla would love those memories, cherish them even if he could no longer understand them. He cannot love the current White Lily Cookie, but he could love the White Lily and Pure Vanilla that once existed.

This lack of feeling wouldn’t go away in the aftermath either. Shadow Milk Cookie is very thorough in his methods, and the lost love wouldn’t just return. Even if his influence is gone. To regain Pure Vanilla’s love, White Lily would have to earn it again. The problem, however, stems from how much they would have changed. White Lily is no longer the White Lily from the academy that young Pure Vanilla fell in love with, and Pure Vanilla is no longer the virtuous hero and king the stories claim he is. They’ve both changed. So much so that one could even question if it was even possible for Pure Vanilla to fall in love with her again.

It’s very strongly a role reversal scenario.

#fyp #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #crk #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #wind archer cookie #phantasmagoria crk #white lily cookie #I spent so long writing this #the question made me very excited #thanks anon :D

[little-box-of-autism]

Deliverance I [Spellman Siblings]

A gift for @dirtytransmasc that has been a long time in the making.

The first time Mansk sees her smile – a true smile, not a threatening display of fangs – is moments before she tips over the edge of the cliff, and something twists painfully inside him.

Irrational, he’s only known her for a week now, why does the idea of her death bother him so greatly?

The squad rushes to the edge, they just finished claiming all their banshees, and within moments a blur of teal, yellow, and light blue shoots up from below with a whoosh of air that sends a few of his fellow recoms stumbling back.

There’s a ring of laughter – high and free – and Mansk spots her perched on the back of the banshee now flying just above them, and relief fills his chest. Something keeps pulling him towards her, maybe it’s the way the darkness feels less suffocating in her presence or the way she looks at him, eyes knowing but not judging.

Later, when she is flying loops around him and her hand skims the top of his head, Mansk finds himself fighting the urge to reach out and touch.

“Come on! You’re so slow!”

Reyzì tugged on his arm, giving an exaggerated groan as she tried to hurry him up, pulling Mansk along as they moved towards the old Avatar Compound. Their arrival at Hell’s Gate had seemed to bring out a lighter, almost childish, side of the siblings.

There was no fear, no hesitation. Her hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled.

Mansk allowed himself to be pulled along – the corner of his lips just barely tugging upwards – a bit startled by her brazen touch. It wasn’t comfortable, it never was, in fact, Reyzì’s touch had felt like a balm. It had shocked him the first time, instinctively recoiling when her fingertips had pressed into his forearm through the material of his shirt, expecting the familiar burn and itch that usually came with physical touch, but it never came. They had been climbing up into the floating mountains and he had been reaching for a handhold when she had, without saying a word, directed his hand towards a vine rather than the jutted rock he had been aiming for.

Reyzì had stared him in the eye and retracted her hand, moving it to push on the rock Mansk had been about to grab. It had come loose, tumbling down past them to the ground.

She kept touching him, always telegraphing her movements before making contact and she never flinched. Her touch never burned; it never made him itch in a way that’d usually have him clawing at his skin. It was gentle and firm.

Mansk couldn’t say how much the Avatar Compound had changed for he only had vague recollections of the place, but he knew it had changed. As Reyzì pulled him into the building he could see the touches left behind by the siblings. Every pole, beam, or spare piece of wood had been carved into and decorated with intricate designs; no doubt done by Rävi. Little trinkets and bits of metal or tech were scattered across most surfaces, and Mansk knew they were left behind by Ro’eyk.

The bright colours – garlands made of beads, feathers and leaves, and woven drapes – hung from the ceilings and clung to beams and poles. Paintings decorated the walls; some were just splashes of colour while others depicted beautiful scenes.

Reyzì had dropped his arm, scurrying off to what looked like a radio, and Mansk found himself just standing to the side, eyes taking in the room around him with the occasional glance back to her.

Z-dog looked at him with a smile on her lips, shaking her head lightly before turning back to the little device Ro’eyk was excitedly showing her. Mansk didn’t notice, too consumed with her to even look at his fellow soldier.

“~ Oh, fair and flighty love My aerolite above The only dove I see ~”.

A tune started – happy and light – and he heard the tell-tale sound of a banjo. Reyzì stood in the middle of the room, smiling at him as she began twirling around with the music. Her movements were fluid, moving like she was one with the music and Mansk found himself watching her every movement.

“~ Could you love me more If by the sun and moon, I swore That I would never flee? ~”

The scream rattled the squad, but it shook Mansk to his core. The frustration, anguish, and anger had torn out of Reyzì’s throat in a way that sounded painful, the tears in her eyes and the heaving of her chest only made something in Mansk’s chest twist.

He wanted to do something – anything, everything – to help her but how? Mansk did not remember ever being comforted, so how was he to comfort her?

Mansk found himself just standing there, a few inches away from where Reyzì sat in the nook of some large and twisted tree roots, unsure of what to do. Mansk could follow orders, and he could take a gun and shoot at a target, but comforting someone was completely foreign to him.

So, he waited.

Waited for Reyzì to show him what she needed.

Then he feels it, a tug on his pants. At his knee is Reyzì’s hand, curling around the fabric of his pants while her gaze stays fixed on something in front of her – far in front of her – and she just gives a light tug.

The space isn’t very big, at least not for two full-grown na’vi. Mansk is about 9’4’’ and Reyzì is closer to 8’10’’, but somehow Mansk manages to squeeze in beside her. Physical contact, even through layers of fabric, that doesn’t make his skin itch or burn, is still new to Mansk but as Reyzì slumps against his side, the weight of her against him feels right.

They stay like that for what seems like hours, the odd sounds of the forest and the squad milling around the camp behind them become background noise; the only thing he focuses on is the weight of Reyzì against his side. Eventually, morning comes, Reyzì’s hand is in his, and Mansk realizes at some point they had fallen asleep.

The Colonel Quaritch was looking at them and his expression was…... soft, and he was smiling too.

Mansk watches Reyzì.

He finds himself doing that a lot; just watching Reyzì throughout the day, and he frequently finds her watching him in return. At first, he hadn’t been obvious about it, years of training made it easy to watch her without giving it away and the tinted sunglasses helped disguise just where his eyes tended to linger, but after Hell’s Gate Mansk had forgone trying to hide his gaze on her.

Reyzì didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed quite pleased with his watchful gaze on her, smiling at him whenever she’d catch him staring, and would often leave whatever she was doing to approach him.

Though Mansk hadn’t expected Reyzì to come up to him after bathing.

It was a relaxing day for the squad – a rare thing nowadays – and everyone had leapt at the idea of being able to wash off the accumulated grime from their bodies, with the exception of Ro’eyk who had to be wrestled into the river by his siblings.

Being in the military tended to desensitize one to nudity between the communal showering and the lack of privacy in an active warzone, most people had seen their squad naked one way or another, and as such the recoms hadn’t had any issue stripping down in front of each other.

It also seemed that the siblings weren’t much different and Mansk wondered if communal bathing was a na’vi thing too, or if it was unique to the siblings.

Even though Mansk was used to bathing communally, he still preferred privacy and had taken the opportunity to go further upstream, ducking behind a large rock to breathe in solitude. He made quick work of cleaning himself, even cleaned his clothes and laid them out to dry on a rock, and then took the opportunity to relax.

The water was clear – clean; Mansk can’t remember a time when he ever saw truly clean water – and it wasn’t cold either; it was chill but not unpleasant, and as he rested against a rock he enjoyed the sensation of the moving water against his skin. It only came up to his waist, sitting down as he was, and at its deepest parts it only seemed to go up to his chest.

The telltale sound of swishing water disturbed by movement had Mansk’s eyes snapping open and the only thing that kept him from reaching for his weapon – always kept in arms reach – was the familiar scent that drifted over to him.

Reyzì

“Gideon.”

His first name comes out like a sigh, content and comforting in tone, and a small saccharine smile is gracing Reyzì’s features as she says it. It’s been weeks since she started using it but every time it spills past her lips it’s like listening to a hymn.

“Rey.”

She looks beautiful, he thinks, watching as she comes to sit in front of him.

Mansk can’t help but trace over her form with his eyes, taking her in like an art piece, and he can feel how her own eyes trace over him in return.

It should bother him more, knowing that she can easily count the tally marks on his ribcage. All 496 of them.

Reyzì’s hair is still braided but lacks its usual adornments and decorations, nor is it pulled back from her face instead it falls freely over her shoulders to where they end below her breasts. There are scars he hasn’t noticed before, all are old and faded but remain as blue-silver lines across her skin.

There are three small ones, thin scratch-like lines that are only two inches long, on the curve of her hip, and four little puncture scars reminiscent of a bite on her collarbone.

He wonders where she got them, though Mansk has an idea where the bite mark came from.

Her stripes paint a captivating pattern across her skin, stretched over lean but toned muscles, and a distant part of his mind lingers over the parts where their pattern mirrors his own in some spots.

There is a delicate touch to his sternum and a tingling warm spreads from that spot. Leaning forward now, Reyzì softly traces her fingertips over the tattoo on his upper chest – a three-headed angel of death – and for a moment his breath stutters.

“It’s beautiful Gideon.”

Later, after they’ve changed back into their clothes and made camp for the night, Reyzì has laid herself against his side and she absently plays with the dog tags hanging from his neck.

“Can I have one?”

“Hmm?”

“One of the dog tags; can I have one?”

Mansk blinks down at her for a second, and watches Reyzì rub her cheek against his shoulder while still playing with the metal tags hanging from his neck.

“Mhmm, yeah.”

She rewards him with a saccharine smile, a pleasant-sounding purr coming from her chest.

Mansk spends the next day watching Reyzì, or more specifically the silver dog tag that is now attached to a braid that dangles right beside her face. If he looks close enough, Mansk can make out his name stamped on the metal.

A low, steady purr rumbles in his chest throughout the day and builds in strength every time he catches sight of Reyzì touching his dog tag in absent thought.

The near-silent sound of soft and shuffling footsteps approaching his door woke Mansk from his sleep, his body reacting before his mind and in mere seconds he was holding his pistol, aiming it directly at the door to his room.

“Gideon?”

“Rey?”

Reyzì’s amber eyes stared back at him, head peaking past the door and the sight of her was enough to soothe the prickling nerves in his mind.

The Soldier was still close to the surface, ready to take over but it seemed the sight of Reyzì relaxed him as well.

She was already slipping into the room before Mansk had even fully lowered the gun, and he watched as she softly closed the door behind her with great care before turning back to face him. Reyzì was clad in nothing more than an oversized shirt – one she had likely stolen off someone in the squad – and what looked to be a spare set of Z-dog’s gym shorts.

“I couldn’t sleep, I was hoping I could stay with you?”

Mansk’s throat bobbed for a second, unsure how to answer in the moment. Reyzì had taken to sleeping beside him whenever she wasn’t watching Spider sleep – to make sure the kid’s mask didn’t malfunction or slip off during the night – but this was the first time she had asked to join Mansk.

Reyzì never did seem comfortable staying overnight at Bridgehead and he couldn’t blame her for it for he equally despised having to return here.

“I’d….feel safer, sleeping with you.”

Mansk didn’t speak, he couldn’t, so he instead chose to nod and shift, making room for Reyzì on the bed between himself and the wall it was pressed against. He watched her silently pad over to the bed before crawling into it, tucking herself against his side as Mansk moved to lay back down, dragging the blanket over them as he did.

It was only now, as the warmth of Reyzì’s body pressed against his side, did Mansk remember he hadn’t worn a shirt to sleep. Before her, Mansk had never found skin-to-skin contact pleasant but now he found himself craving her touch and the soothing balm it brought.

The light pull on his arm was all Mansk needed to turn over, curling himself around Reyzì who tucked her head beneath his chin in the hollow of his shoulder and neck, and slotted herself into the curves of his own body like she was always meant to be there.

It was like a puzzle piece slotting into place, or two broken pieces made whole.

Sleep was never something that came easy to Mansk, it only was made worse by the memories of his time in Black Ops, but the steady rise and fall of Reyzì’s chest and the low, soft barely there purr lulled him to sleep faster than any sedative he had ever been given.

Blood was a viscous fluid; thick, heavy, and burning hot against his skin.

The scent of iron clogged his nose and the bitter taste of it was like syrup on his tongue, choking him as it dripped down his throat.

“Mif'letzet.”

Screams; bloodcurdling and shrill, piercing into his ears like ice-picks. There was no break, no stopping for breath, the screams were never ending as they grew in into a symphony of agony and pain.  

“Budelis.”

He can feel it – the bones breaking beneath his hands; that glide of sharpened steel through flesh; the rattling of their chest as they screamed and begged for mercy that would not be given, could not be given.

“Şeytan.”

There’s the phantom pain of hands upon his skin; nails tearing and clawing across legs and arms as they tried to pull him down, the deathly coldness of their skin contrasting against the molten blood that covers him.

“Qātil.”

“Ma’Gideon.”

Mansk comes back to himself slowly, his body not quite his own, and underneath him is Reyzì. His hand is on her throat, not choking but still there and a bitter coldness envelopes him at the sight.

He wants to yank himself away, tear his hand from her neck and run, putting as much distance between them as he can, but the hand that grips the back of his neck holds him there like an anchor.

“You didn’t hurt me, it is alright.”

There are more whispered assurances, soft words meant to comfort him, and Mansk can’t do anything. Reyzì slides her three fingers into the space between his four – they fit perfectly – where they remain against her neck. Mansk can’t meet her eyes, but he can feel them staring at him in a way that feels like Reyzì is examining his very soul.

In slow careful movements, Reyzì gently tugs his hand away from her throat, repositioning her hand in his as she lays them against the bed. On the back of his neck, the pressure increases minutely as Reyzì guides his face to the space between her shoulder and jaw. Mansk can’t find it in himself to resist, letting himself relax into her embrace until his entire body is on top of her own and almost every part of them is touching.

There’s no itch, no burn and urge to claw at his skin where they meet but rather a feeling of soothing calm blooms from each point of contact.

Reyzì is humming a song – its tune soft and gentle – against the crown of his head as nimble fingers stroke the skin of his neck just below his queue, and fatigue is washing over Mansk like the incoming flow of a tide, strong and gentle in equal measure. There’s no fighting it, not while his face is tucked into Reyzì’s neck and his body is wrapped in her warm embrace, and as the sleep overtakes his senses Mansk feels the ghost of a kiss press against his forehead.

#reyzi te le'ey rohoza'ite #recom mansk #mansk #mansk x oc #mansk x reyzi #spellman siblings #recoms #recom squad #i spent so long writing this #there will be a part 2 eventually #pray my adhd cooperates #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar the way of water

[phoenixkaptain]

Mara Jade, an ex-spy for the dragon, Emperor Palpatine, now a knight of Princess Leia Organa, is on a mission to rescue the princess’ twin brother from the tower he was locked in.

A.K.A.

Someone had to write Luke as Rapunzel and I am someone

#star wars #luke skywalker #mara jade #maraluke #lukemara #fic rec #my fic #i spent so long writing this #and for what #idk i’m stressed so i’m posting it #enjoy

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

#tloz #a link to the past #zelda #link #my art #I was happy with that first one but for some reason decided it still needed a companion piece so I spent way too long on that second one... #I don't think there was any time during the progress where I was happy with it but hfduhdfu at least I got to Attempt drawing moss hell yea #I also at some point sat in Pyu's art stream and said I enjoy drawing legs As I was being murdered by the infamously impossibe (imo) squat. #it's ok I had fun !! but I need to learn how to let doodles be doodles or I'll never finish stuff at this rate dfsuhfd #if everything in my tloz tag looks like it was drawn by different people uuuh 2023 was art crisis year ngl...... #I'm falling back into my old ways rn though #anyway I think about these two a lot I think they're both stone faced and awkward ppl in different ways but they try rly hard to be friends #like I like to think it starts out so incredibly awkward and a bit sad bc they keep stepping over each other's toes accidentally the harder #they try but idk they find comfy middle ground idk in my brain they have a very interesting friendship I wanna get around to drawing it #in a proper way that might make sense.... #if I don't write 200 tags I will die maybe it's bc I grew up on dA or smth #and yes I know how to find 1 (one) type of mushroom /I/ am not mushroom girl unfortunately smh

[kedreeva]

Okay if you haven't yet, and you have Netflix/Paramount+, consider giving "School Spirits" a chance.

It looks like a silly little cheesy teenage ghosts show, I put it on for background noise, and then got totally engrossed in the mystery. It's VERY well written, very well filmed, the mystery was GREAT and the payoff at the end is also great.

One of the things majorly lacking in shows I've recently tried to watch is that they try to do a twist/reveal at the end that comes out of nowhere. They don't want you to guess what they're doing. This show doesn't do that. This show wants you to guess. They give you seven different mysteries and enough clues to guess (most of) what is going on, so that when you get the final puzzle piece to any given mystery, it feels GREAT.

The story premise is this: a teenager in hs wakes up as a ghost in the hs, and doesn't remember how she died, and with the help of the other ghosts, tries to solve the mystery of her own death.

Simple premise. BEAUTIFULLY executed. Not all of the questions that arise get answered, but the main one (what she doesn't remember) gets solved by the end of the season, leaving the "why/how and what comes next" to be carried to the next season. It does a cliffhanger RIGHT. But now I desperately want to see the second season (which I believe has been approved, so it's a matter of waiting).

So pretty please, if you're looking for something to do and a great, engaging lil mystery to watch, consider! School Spirits!!

#school spirits #there is so much in this show #Spike and I finished watching it today #her for the first time me for the second #and the second time through it was even better because I was picking up the right threads #the first time through there are SO MANY CLUES #but there are also SO MANY MYSTERIES that you aren't sure which clues belong to which mystery #and then the last half of the last ep hits #and dumps out all the final puzzle pieces to several mysteries #and we spent like an hour digging through thoughts afterword #pulling out themes and clues #and there are some potentially REALLY CLEVER things done #and actually they 100% followed through on the things they set forth and paid off so far #so I feel pretty confident some of the things we pieced together actually belong to the puzzle #and aren't just mistakes #or coincidences #and it's been so long since I got to see actually good writing STAY good writing through #I'm so stoked for this series

[minamill]

Family album

details under the cut

#i'm so happy with how this turned out!! #i spent so long on tiny unimportant details but i love them #like how the stamps run of out ink by the end and you can see the last bit got stamped twice #there are smudges by the drawings bc crayons smudge everything #wren's first shaky attempt at writing #the plastic wrap and fingerprint smudges #the little photos in the corner having multiple copies bc when you print the tiny ones they always do multiple #idk man i put a lot of my own crinkly photo album memories in this one #*summers #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #gen 1 #*dana #*dawn #*rhea #*cedar

[lemonadeslice]

tragic: local video game company puts out their first half-decent horror game in nearly a decade but forgets to give it an ending, random internet artist forced to macgyver one

#everyone and their mother has been talking about how much better an interrogation scene would have been as an ending #but what can i say? everyone and their mothers are right. podcasts should be made illegal #i don't really want to post these bc i think many of them are ugly and also my attempt at writing dialogue is very sad #but i have spent! way! too long on these to leave them sitting in my folders forever so #the quarry #i wish my mental stability was as strong as the grip ryan's earbuds had on his shirt

[fatuismooches]

There's just something really cute about being the segments' firsts. Their first hand-holder, first kiss, first hug, first date. They all have memories of you from which their creator imbued into them, but they didn't actually do those things with you. It's not their specific memories. It was merely Prime's memories from that stage of his life with you. So, in reality, they're all kind of... sad little clones who haven't felt the touch of love in their entire lives. Solely fulfilling their duty as one of Prime's segments. The affection they remember never actually being experienced by them personally. The feelings never actually felt by them.

The younger segments especially get more worked up about it. Especially when they see you being so blatantly affectionate with Prime. Oh, how they wish that could be them. That you could give them the time of day too. It ends up frustrating them to the point where they nearly break equipment in the process. The older segments are more aware of their place, so they don't show their urges much outwardly, but that doesn't mean they aren't disappointed.

When you finally get comfortable enough around them, they're tripping over themselves to figure out how to persuade you best so that you'll spend them with them instead of the other segments. So that they'll receive lots of kisses and your attention will solely be on them, for the first time since their creation date. (Would you care to join me in dissecting a body, dearest? No, [Name] would much prefer to examine Ruin Guards with me! As if. They would much rather help me out in the lab instead.)

Once you give them a taste of what you have to give, there's no going back. Because the thing about being their firsts, is that they'll demand for you to be their seconds, thirds, and fourths as they truly can't be enough. They might suffocate you, but you'd like that, wouldn't you? You have two hands, shoulders, a lap, a back, and more for a reason!

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #gives them all a little kiss #haiii guys i spent all evening doing math hw. so am tired #im going sleep now <3 #i have exams again soon ... but ive been working on my fic here and there #its erm... already 12k+ words and i have sm left to write. i hope u guys like super long fics #pls send help

[fictionadventurer]

There's something about reading really great writing that's so relaxing. You can just sit back and let the words wash over you, knowing that you can trust the writer.

#random thought of the day #books #part of the reason i'm not getting writing done today was because i spent most of my free time reading from books i've let sit for too long #i haven't been able to sink into good fiction for a while #so elizabeth goudge felt like a spiritual experience #cleansing and uplifting #it always takes me a while to get into her books #there's a learning curve of a couple of chapters to adjust to the style #but once i break through it's bliss #it becomes easy as breathing #there's nothing quite like what she does #i love books that understand that goodness isn't boring or trite #you don't need to have 'darkness' and 'grit' to be complex #like one bit that took my breath away was the talk about sallie and david's marriage struggles #they're both good people who love each other #but they also have their differences because they're human and that causes struggles #not marriage-breaking struggles just nuanced life struggles #and i'm not sure i've seen something like that in a book before #it's a good marriage they married the right people but that doesn't mean life is perfect #goudge uderstands that marriage isn't happily ever after--heaven is #and a good marriage is two people partnering up to help each other reach that goal #it's so much more adult than any 'complex adult' work i've seen

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

PLEASE MORE BUTTERFLY HOWDY CONTENT HES SO FUCKING SILLY

OKAY HERE'S A COMIC SHENANIGANS THING

#this looks best if you click through instead of scrolling #which is kind of stupid to say After The Post. but yk. #spent way too long on this. worth it tho #its always worth it For The Bit #and this was good practice! ty for the opportunity! #the version of butterfly!howdy i have in my head is. hes a lot. i love him <3 #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #howdy pillar #yassified howdy <3 #i am so so so soooo tempted to make a butterfly howdy tag just to compile it all #i love compiling things. i like having specific collections In One Uninterrupted Place #alright well my hand hurts and its 5 am so im gonna queue this and go sleepies #wait fuck whats in the queue for tomorrow. today. #hm... ok this is a sunday post then. tomorrow is Booked #yall get a brief break from the butterfly howdy shenanigans #*got. im speaking to future people from the past rn. wild. ty tumblr for allowing time travel #its a tangled mess of yarn anyways #i am once again So Tempted To Write For This #perhaps one day i will fulfill my dream of writing a fic about howdy chrysalizing. metamorphosizing. whatever #id make it slowburn laughingstock perhaps... Probably.... i care them too much not too.... #something for future me to enjoy! as a treat <3

[shepards-folly]

I wanted to draw them again so yeah

#shep arts #empires smp #esmp #flower husbands #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #esmp au #(<- kinda its not a serious thing just a silly au i made for I want to draw silly things purposes) #once again I spent far too long trying to figure out the playground section in a park… #i am thinking about them so much I've made a fanfic in my brain but i absolutely will not write it <3 #i did draw scott in a jacket based on xornoth intentionally... i think its silly to imply that he just steals xor's clothes

[finniestoncrane]

What's a kink of each of the riddlers that you feel like you haven't really talked about?

More Riddler Kinks

Riddler Headcanons hooray, finally getting round to this one after the event!! it's a long one too oops... ok i am got INTO this. some of them i think i've mentioned before but i am so glad to put my silly little thoughts into more detail 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: so many potentially triggering kinks here, cnc, piss, free use, roleplay, rough sex, violence, monster fucking, nude photography

dano

i have written about it a LOT but he definitely has a thing for cnc/rape play

and with him, it comes from a space of feeling like he's not good enough, and follows his life's trajectory of having to take things he wants rather than wait patiently for them to come to him

he wants to be in control of a situation, something he's never had before in any aspect of life

something that allows him to feel like he's in charge, that he's got the power

and at the same time, it's so emotionally fulfilling for him to be trusted by someone to that extent

to know a partner is willing to allow themselves to be so vulnerable around him, to get to be so close and intimate with someone

to feel like he's someone you have actively chosen to trust and let him take part in something like that

and to speak to him like an intelligent adult while you cover rules and boundaries and safe-words

that's so healing for him to experience, and it only amplifies his sweet and adoring behaviour outside of your more intense bedroom sessions

plus, any excuse to offer you the most satisfactorily sickeningly sweet aftercare, that's what he's really after

arkham

i play with this man like he's a fucking doll honestly there's not a kink i wouldn't give him, but allow me to delve into my most recent fixation

because i'm giving him a piss kink and no one can stop me

i don't think it's so much about the piss for him, more about the mess and the sense of control over someone's behaviours and habits

definitely about the embarrassment and humiliation

because the minute you let yourself go, the minute you're vulnerable standing or sitting in front of him

bound by his rules to not interrupt him for bathroom breaks

knowing that any mess you make is your own fault

that's when he gets his kicks

and the ability to chastise and degrade you for making a mess of yourself and having very little self-control is an added benefit

telling you how ashamed you should be, while you can see the smug smile on his face and the growing tent at the front of his stupid cargo pants

i don't think he'd piss in you or on you though. as messy as he is i think even he knows standards of good practice when it comes to germs and such

(he's filthy, yes, but very picky over certain textures and substances, it's the autism)

plus the act of him defiling you would be too much, since this idiot harbours intense feelings of admiration and respect that he's too scared or embarrassed to admit to

gotham

i don't think i've gone into too much detail about his medical fetish, but he definitely has one

i mean, i did write that thing on the autopsy table... but anyway!

definitely veering towards the experimental side of medical roleplay

he'll get all of the correct gear on, nothing inherently sexual about it unless you're into that kind of thing

protective gear though, a smock, rubber gloves, maybe a mask

and you'll be expected to be fully nude, all of you exposed to him so that he can test the limits of each part of you

see how every square inch of your skin reacts to his touch

or to his various 'tools' that he's got, sterilised and prepared to work on you

there's no medical benefits to this, he's not aiming to fix you

but he is definitely good at making you feel much, much better than you did before you were laid down on his table

teased, torturous edging, new experiences and toys

until you're a shuddering mess, ready to be eased up for some aftercare before he cleans up for your next appointment

his desire to study you, to see what makes you tick and what makes you make the sweetest sounds is what motivates him here

and he will take rigorous and extensive notes during and afterwards

and then study them in his down time (or alone time)

telltale

corruption, for sure. like his whole personality revolves around being the best and greatest manipulator and schemer that ever was

so corrupting your innocence, real or roleplayed, gives him everything he wants from a sexual encounter

and in a relationship

it's not like he's 24/7 on with the whole "i am your master" thing

but it leeches into everyday life easily enough when you spend a lot of time in his company

any roleplay scenario where he can play an authoritative character while you are a weaker, more innocent position works for him

professor and student, master and servant, he's not beyond playing god and having you pretend to be a nun either, and there are more taboo pairings he's willing to try

there's often elements of bondage, dominance, spirit breaking, orgasm control

anything where he has the higher ground

and he can teach you and show you new and exciting, or scary, things

having you beg to show him the correct ways, to educate you, to give you a new experience, to touch you in a way no one else has

that's what gets him off for sure

twojar

100% is into breeding, and definitely barebacking

the idea of fucking you completely raw (pending your health checks. he's completely clean and fine, but you on the other hand... he needs the documents)

that's what he's most into, especially if he can incorporate some other kinks into the foreplay or actual sex

and then have the grand finale be painting your insides with his cum, letting you feel the warmth of him

but it has to end with you under him, whichever position you prefer the most he's not fussy

with his cock buried deep inside of you

cumming inside of you and holding himself there, keeping you pinned to him

thrusting a couple more times for good measure so he can be sure he's pumped his seed as deep as it can go

and holding you afterwards, telling you how good you took him

his perfect little breeding stock, his sweet little cumdump

filled up and ready to bear the fruits of his labour

btaa

there is no doubt in my mind that every waking minute that he isn't spending on schemes or building his little gadgets

is spent playing fantasy roleplay games, of any kind, on any platform, alone or in groups

he's a huge nerd! it's one of those things that he'll never outlive, once a big dweeb, always a big dweeb

so a big thing for him is roleplay, and specifically, roleplay where he can involve some monster fucking

he can either play the hero, slaying the beast and then saving the girl, who promptly rewards him with herself to use

or being the hero who sets out to defeat the creature and instead ends up fucking it

or let him be the monster and he'll show you how monstrous he could really be

as long as it involves preparation, dramatic reactions, practice and rehearsing, preferably a script with some room for improv

and, of course, the most extravagant and detailed costumes (accurate to the scenario or time period, obviously)

then he will be a very happy, and satisfied, boy

zero year

i haven't really talked about this but it's a huge one for me personally with him

but i think he's a big fan of free use obviously like he just screams it

loves nothing more than a sort of semi-permanent situation where you spend days completely naked and at his mercy

and add a bit of roleplay into it, maybe you're his live-in housekeeper

cleaning for him, cooking for him, washing him, feeding him

and whenever he feels like it, he can stick his dick in you

but you can't react to him unless he gives you permission

you gotta stand there, kneel there, sit there, lay there while he fucks you without making any sounds

and comitting to whatever task you were in the middle of when he decided to start going at you

i just think it would absolutely send him to the moon to know that when you're walking around naked, bending over in front of him

hanging on his every word and obeying his every command

he could also just decide to press his cock inside of you nonchalantly

unburied

he's literally devoutly into cuckoldery, but he's the bull

imagine watching your partner get railed by some ineffectual dweeb with a penchant for riddles

knowing that he's giving it to them with all he's got, making them scream in pleasure and shout out his name

making eye contact with him at some point

and having him wink at you? stick his tongue out? give you some finger guns?

all with the most smug, self-satisfied grin you've ever seen on a human being

and then to top it off, he's calling out sex-themed riddles?

and laughing at you when you don't get them right?

that's not something you can come back from

that changes someone, on several deep levels

and truthfully, that's the part that he likes the most

the emotional scarring on your ego, and the little stroke his gets

knowing he's so annoying that he's unforgettable, which would be the biggest crime to him

btas

i have these ideas about him that always revolve around something artsy or classy

and while i think he would be into some dorky roleplay (he's definitely pretending to be a minotaur, sorry)

i do, selfishly i suppose, think that he would be into body worshipping

specifically in the form of erotic photography

he'd be keen to take pictures of you, in poses, costumes, scenarios, roleplays

directing you, encouraging you, watching you loosen up and let yourself go

whatever you were comfortable with, that's key here

and he'd cherish seeing your face afterwards when he showed you the final products

knowing he'd captured everything about you that he loves and finds attractive

pictures that he'll keep if you want, or destroy

it doesn't matter to him in the end really

he takes them because he thinks of you as his muse, the act of photographing you, of being allowed the vulnerability

to create with you in mind

that's what he finds most erotic and exciting and ultimately, an expression of his love and adoration for you

young justice

if you managed to get him to find the courage to admit to it, you'd learn his favourite thing is uh...

well... just because it plays into his... awkwardness, and shyness, and inexperience...

just... it makes sense that he has a virginity kink

but interestingly, it goes both ways

while he's so keen to have you show him the moves, and pretend to be inducting him into your little black book

teaching him how to touch you or how to move his hips

he's equally interested in switching the roles up a bit

it's a challenge for him, sure, but he's the riddler! there's no challenge he can't live up to

even if that means weeks of practice and lessons with an acting coach to get past the initial nerves

it would all be worth it to pretend that he was confident, dominant, and knew what he was doing

that and the satisfaction of taking something from you, something important

the honour in knowing he's your first (or at least pretending)

and the lasting impression he might have on you for that

that's the kind of idea that has him rutting into you like a fuckin beast

#i spent so fuckin long on this so please for the love of god #finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #gotham riddler #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #batman unburied riddler #bu riddler #telltale riddler #twojar riddler #riddler #the riddler #btaa riddler #btas riddler

[kiiyuq]

A Countdown, Of Sorts

And the taint of wine-red and copper bleeds and stains across the foreign skin, like a mark more damning that the kisses fluttered there previously.

Here's the artwork I created for @fleet-off's absolutely amazing fic, Passing Time, for the @kinnporschebigbang. It was such a great experience. The writing in here is incredible, I swear every time I read it I can't even breathe, its so, so, so good and well written.

A really, really special thanks firstly to Fleet for working together with me during this whole period. I loved talking with you about the fic, and getting to see your writing every time genuinely took the words out of my mouth, because I just didn't know how to express myself properly about it. This has been such a fun experience, and you've bought Pete and Vegas to life so perfectly. Another big thank you to the mods of the KPTS Big Bang event for all the work you've put in the past few months, and all of the organisation that's been happening behind the scenes, none of this could have happened without all of you. And an extra thank you to @no1petesimp and @xhangkyuns for dealing with all my screaming for the past few months as I got through all the rough patches, I love you two so much, you mean the world to me <3

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche fanart #kinnporsche the series #kiiyuq #vegaspete #pete saengtham #pete phongsakorn #pete phongsakorn saengtham #vegas kornwit theerapanyakun #vegas theerapanyakul #I love them so much theyre my babies #my honour their murderous intent is justified #we spent so long gushing about these two #esp pete's dimples i just love them so much #seriously go read all of fleet's writing its so fucking good

[vegasol]

«3! 2! 1! Happy new year!» Everyone screams excitedly all around them.

Then, as they tend to do, all the couples kiss. And for a stupid second, it feels like the whole world consists of only couples. It makes Eddie feel like there’s a giant spotlight on him, pointing him out in the crowd. Look, there’s the single guy. The virgin, with no one to kiss.

He looks at Steve, who’s right next to him. Steve’s got his arms around Robin, she’s got her arms around his neck, and they’re just done giving each other a kiss too, a big ol’ smack of puckered lips. Eddie wonders if he should look away, but then they release each other and Steve turns to look at Eddie, catching him looking.

So Eddie just hovers, awkwardly frozen in place by Steve’s gaze.

“You alright, Eddie?” Steve prompts, reaching out a hand to place it comfortingly on Eddie’s lower back. It feels so warm, makes Eddie feel all fuzzy. Or maybe that’s the champagne.

“I don’t have anyone to kiss,” he blurts, tongue loosened by alcohol and way more honest than what is good for him. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he adds lamely, because his drunk self apparently thought that was an important amendment to be making.

“Uhh..” Steve stares at him, confused. Like his gears are grinding away ever so slowly. He’s had plenty of the champagne too, Eddie knows.

“You could kiss me? I don’t mind,” Steve offers, and it suddenly feels simple. Yeah, why shouldn’t he? Steve’s just offering to help, it doesn’t have to mean anything. He kissed Robin too, so it’s no big deal, right?

He lets Steve’s hand on his lower back pull him in gently. They’re the same height, no need for Eddie to bend his neck at an awkward angle or anything. He just steps right into Steve’s space, their lips suddenly just an inch away from touching, their breath suddenly mingling.

I don’t know how, Eddie is about to say, but he doesn’t have time to before Steve closes the rest of the gap. His lips are soft and warm and plush as he puckers them against Eddie’s. It’s nice. And Eddie thinks that’s going to be it: just a sweet, chaste, innocent kiss among friends, before Steve will pull away again. He’d be okay with that.

But instead of pulling away, Steve presses his lips harder to Eddie’s. In surprise, Eddie parts his lips, to draw a breath, to say something maybe, and again Steve surprises him by catching Eddie’s bottom lip in his. Eddie’s breath stutters and he forgets everything about everything. He forgets that people are watching, he forgets that this wasn’t going to mean anything. He forgets how to stand on his own two legs, so he sinks into Steve’s arms, holding on to him desperately as he lets Steve deepen the kiss.

It's like fireworks are going off, not just in the sky all around them, but inside Eddie, too.

When Steve finally breaks the kiss and lets him go, Eddie feels like a changed person. New year, new Eddie. Now that he’s tried it, he never wants to stop kissing Steve.

And Steve, King Steve, he’s gotta know, the way he’s looking at Eddie grinning all smugly. It must be written clearly all over Eddie’s face.

“Maybe you can return the favor next year,” Steve says, and Eddie can only nod.

“Uh huh. I will.”

#look; i spent way too long on this and am going to bed way too late because of this; not to share #I fully wrote it sleep deprived at 1-2am so please don't hold any typos or grammatical errors against me gfjdklshfs #hope this can bring a bit of new year cheer to y'all #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #stwgdailyprompt #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie holiday fic #vega writes #my writing #happy new year everyone!

[mueritos]

a small moment of kindness that touched me today. speaking about our struggles as grad students in class with classmates. our small group is all BIPOC; another latine and two arabs, one who is palestinian. we are speaking very honestly about our fears and frustrations. feeling useless. feeling scared. upset at the world and its horrors. angry at other peoples' silence. but at the same time so so full of joy and hope. i talked about being scared of being forgotten, and we continued on with our group task of creating a liberation health triangle.

professor transitioned us back to the full class and while our professor began speaking again, my Palestinian classmate--so beautiful and with the most wonderful curls--leaned close to me and whispered "I'll never forgot you." I almost didn't hear her so i whispered back, "what?", and as sweetly as the first time she said, "I'll never forget you. And I'll never forget what you said last semester. You were the first person in this entire program who spoke of your frustrations. I felt less alone."

the walk home from class was very cold, but i could not help but let myself repeat the moment in my head over and over again.

#muerto talks #the way we are all forced to carry on because of the horrors of this world #and we can still choose to be kind to each other #what i took as a frustrating and vulnerable moment in my 10 am class last semester #was a moment where she could find some solidarity in someone else's words #and my small comment about being scared of being forgotten.... #i just #man let me appreciate the small moments of joy and love please #we are so exposed to cruelty and i have been seeing war and murder and violence nonstop #i spent the rest of class giggling and joking with them as we did our class role plays #it had been a long time since i had laughed that freely #i need to remind myself of this joy #it is so so important to #getting emotional writing this but it was beautiful

[mochiwrites]

This is probably one of the weirdest alliances Joel has ever been in. And he’s been in some pretty weird alliances before. The Red Banners are the first to come to mind on that one, with Ren’s weird accent and all that.

But The Bad Boys might just take the top spot.

Upon first glance, his alliance with them seems pretty well put together. Joel has partly teamed with Grian before, back on a world where he seemed to be chained to the red mist, blood thirsty and out for whoever he could find. It had been fun, when Grian was also red and they ran around together.

So he knows how Grian operates, how he thinks and functions. He’s a good ally, loyal and eager.

(Joel pointedly ignores how nearly every ally Grian has ever had has died permanently due to his own hands.)

And then there’s Jimmy and well… Jim is Jim. In a good way, whatever that means.

The fact of the matter is, they’re a good team. With their Bread Bridge and then Bread Bridge version two in the sky. The Sadder Badder Ladder podcast. Joel likes teaming with them.

But this? This is a bit odd, even for him.

They’ve pushed their beds together. It’s hard to cuddle on a singular bed, and well, Bad Boys call each other babe and all that. Joel isn’t going to shy away from snuggling with Grian and Jimmy, especially when Grian fits against his side so easily, and Jimmy can easily wrap them both in his golden wings. Grian’s sleek cat tail tangles with Joel’s own (perks of being a wolf hybrid and all that), and sleep is quite peaceful.

It doesn’t start out that way though.

“Griaaaan, come on!” Jimmy whines as they all settle in for the night. They’re on the dry part of the mansion’s roof, the moon high in the sky above them. It casts them each in its soft blue glow, illuminating their figures. “You did it last time!”

Which is why Joel can see Jimmy’s pout so well.

Grian hums nonchalantly, kicking his shoes off and laying back in his bed. His ears twitch. “You willingly offered last time, Timmy. And now it’s actually my turn.” He shrugs.

“Because you had a rough day!” Jimmy points out. He’s kneeling on his bed, body angled toward them both.

Joel himself is already laying down flat on his back. He’s waiting.

“If you wanted your right and proper turn, you shouldn’t have given it up!”

“Griannnnnn!”

“Timmmmm.”

This is something that happens every night. The three of them get ready for bed, and Grian and Jimmy bicker over who gets to listen to Joel’s heartbeat. Honestly, Joel doesn’t get it. He knows it’s related to some kind of thing that neither Grian or Jimmy will actually tell him about. He’d ask, but asking feels… wrong, almost. Like if he does, Grian and Jimmy will stop.

So he doesn’t really question it, instead letting it happen.

Even if it’s weird. It’s such a weird habit, but none of them ever talk about it in the morning. In fact there’s not even any mention of it when they wake up.

(In retrospect it isn’t that weird. It’s normal to listen to your partner’s heartbeat. But what’s weird is it’s Grian and Jimmy wanting to listen to his. His? Joel’s? The red, lone wolf?)

A head on his chest makes him pause, and he looks down. He sees two fluffy ears and ashen blond hair. “Hello Grian,” he greets, watching as the other snuggles close.

“Hi Joel.”

“Comfortable?” He lifts a brow.

“Quite.” Joel can hear the smile in Grian’s voice.

He looks over at Jimmy, finding the other pouting as he lays down beside them. Without a moment of hesitation, those golden feathery blankets are settling over the pair, drawing a content purr from Grian.

But Jimmy is still pouting, most likely bothered that he lost to Grian. Which honestly, did he expect anything different? In a match between Grian and Jimmy, the winner is already decided.

Joel sighs, “Here, Jim.” As per usual with their weird little routine, Joel holds his wrist out to him as he wraps his other arm around Grian’s waist.

Jimmy’s face brightens as the pout leaves his face, and he holds Joel’s wrist in both his hands, fingers pressing carefully against his pulse. Joel feels the tension leave his body almost immediately as Jimmy relaxes against him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He then hears Jimmy make a curious trill, “Grian? Are you asleep yet?”

“Yes,” Grian answers, even as he pops an eye open to look at Jimmy. “I’m the sleepiest lad you’ve ever seen.”

“He’s a sleepy lad, boy,” Joel jokes, making Jimmy choke on his laughter.

“Stooop!” he exclaims, but he’s smiling.

Grian laughs, “We better stop, Joel. Wouldn’t want Tim to become a mad boy.”

“Or a sad boy.”

“Stop, stop it! It’s sleep time!” Jimmy laughs again, Grian and Joel’s own laughter joining him. After a moment or so, Jimmy calms down and he looks at Grian, expression turning bashful. “G can I… erm…. can I have your wrist?” he questions.

Something in Grian’s expression melts, his gaze turning soft and empathetic.

(There’s another thing Joel will never understand about Grian and Jimmy. Whatever the connection is between them. The silent understanding, the way they take one look at each other and just seem to understand what the other is thinking. Upon first glance, you’d never expect that from their dynamic. Not when Grian is so set on being a menace to Jimmy. But Joel gets that special look when it’s just them. He gets to see the way Grian is always touching Jimmy in someway, the way he presses against him, almost like he’s clinging to him. The way Jimmy will tuck Grian against him, and hold him.

Joel feels honored, not just to see it, but to be included in it. Like he’s been given a special sort of trust that no one else has. Not that he’ll ever tell either of them, of course.)

Reaching over Joel, Grian offers Jimmy his wrist. And Jimmy takes it in one of his hands.

Humming quietly, Jimmy pressed his lips first to the skin of Grian’s wrist before doing the same to Joel’s. “Good night,” he chirps.

Joel feels Grian’s lips through the fabric of his shirt, the contact leaving him warm and contented. “Night, Tim.” He feels Grian’s tail tangle with his own, and his purrs are soft, soothing.

Though it’s a little difficult, Joel reaches for Jimmy, pressing a kiss to his head before doing the same to Grian. “Night.”

The Bad Boys are certainly a weird alliance, but Joel is an expert in weird at this point. It doesn’t matter all that much to him, because he’s given both Grian and Jimmy a piece of his heart anyways. Weird or not, it doesn’t change the fact that these two are his. And every wolf protects their pack.

#mochi writes #poly bad boys #smallidarian #smallidarity #gribeans #solidrian #trafficshipping #the bad boys #limited life smp #I hope these are the right tags Oh Boy #anyways I blame stellar for this #got me crying in the club over the bad boys and heart beats #smth smth grian as a watcher likes to listen to heartbeats of his partners because he spent so long looking at them live #smth smth jimmy as a listener likes to feel heartbeats because he’s spent so long listening