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brisquad-unit-4402 · 7 months

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luxiem and noisy sex

hey guys sorry i was mia for a while you see it was because i was [DEAFENING EXPLOSION AND AFTERSHOCK FOLLOWED BY COLLAPSING DEBRIS, THUNDER CRASH, BICYCLE HORN SOUND EFFECTS]

tags: established relationship, gender neutral reader, smut, bottom/top or sub/dom not specified

⚠️ blow job mention in shu's entry

⚠️ mature content under read more. content under read more is not intended for minors

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland

relatively quiet. ike doesn't make a racket often— it's more likely that he'll either tease you with dirty talk and come-ons

but once his brain gets too fucked out to stay coy, he's all shaky breaths and little whines

you can hear him quivering under his breath, as if getting caught would be a problem

which it very much isn't

invite him to get a little louder if you want an adorably flustered, adorably hard novelist. he'll feel so dirty if you do, but at the same time, he feels like making noise proves how much he trusts you

if you're noisy:

even though he doesn't make much noise, sex with you isn't complete without coaxing such sweet squeaks out of you

he takes it as a challenge, trying to figure out which part of your body is most sensitive by how loud you react

it makes him feel so sexy, and desirable, and powerful no matter what position he's in

prefers when you can't form words anymore, only helpless cries. oh, and if you actually do cry? god, he'll remember that forever

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro

brings a whole new definition to "loud in bed". like seriously, even if you've had noisy partners before, luca puts them all to shame without even trying

he reacts to almost everything, and it doesn't take him a lot to get there. sometimes you wonder if he's faking it, but no, he's just that aware of everything he feels

he starts out with exclamations, and somehow forms words all the way until the end of the night. the sentences stop making sense halfway through, and by the time he climaxes it's a miracle if he can even get through his words without tripping up

if you're noisy:

is he the luckiest guy in the universe or what? it feels great to have someone that gets what it's like to be loud

doesn't even care what you say or do as long as he can hear it. just being able to hear those noises has his engine revving

then again, when you're lips are pressed up to him and he can still hear the muffled sounds and your vibrating throat, he just wants to fuck until you both white out in the afterglow

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

shu doesn't take sex too seriously and just wants to have fun above all else, and you have to wonder if it's because he always laughs at least once when you sleep together

he's actually quite ticklish, and his moans sometimes end in giggles. they sound so sweet even though what you do under the covers is anything but

this is one of the few things he's actually insecure about. he's so worried that it might kill the mood or make his partner feel self conscious

don't take it personally. he whimpers plenty when he's not giggling, and the last thing he wants is a misunderstanding just because of how his body expresses pleasure

if you're noisy:

sometimes he wishes he could commit every one of your noises to memory. they're easily his favorite part of going down on you

he fantasizes about your voice getting excited often. if you're ever apart, he'd love to listen to you masturbate and call his name over the phone

hell, even hearing his name from your trembling lips has his cock throbbing, ready to fill that pretty mouth and give you something to really choke on

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma

tends to make more guttural sounds. growls, hums, and purrs galore. vox doesn't even try to make them sound sultry, they're just so low and irresistible, as expected of the voice demon himself

but if you catch him off guard you might just make him squeak in surprise and satisfaction. he even stutters and trips over his words

which is something he gets embarrassed over, especially since all his other noises are still on the low end of the spectrum, but calling attention to it gets him even more aroused

great sex usually ends with high-pitched whimpers and gasps, and the best ones have him screaming as he orgasms

if you're noisy:

your noises make him so unbelievably horny, you have no idea. the second he realizes you're loud, he wants nothing more than to hear you all night

it's a huge ego boost and fuels him to keep pushing his limits. anything to keep you crying out for him

he'll goad you into responding to his dirty talk just so he can hear you whimper in-between your words

whether you want to be praised or degraded, he tries to mention your voice and noises as much as he can since it's all he can think about

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

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cuubism · 10 months

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literally just smut, dreamling, prince/knight dynamic, uh. lowkey virginity kink. lowkey degradation kink. yeah.

The war camp is dark, the tent only barely lit by a few scant candles, but Hob is wide awake.

It had been a fantastically successful battle, that day. Much needed after a string of losses. They’d absolutely destroyed the enemy, Hob’s only just managed to clean most of the blood off himself—and he’s still riding that high hours later, blood pumping, restless energy racing as he occupies himself cleaning his armor and his sword.

Technically, he could get someone else to do these menial tasks. He’s a knight, he’s of high enough rank to request it. But Hob’s always believed a man should tend to his own weapons, should know every piece of them. It’s the same reason he takes care of his own horse, and his own tack.

Besides, the repetitive motion of the cleaning is taking the edge off.

There’s another thing that can cut the edge of the battle high.

Sex.

How fortunate, then, that Hob is on good terms with so many of the working ladies of the camp.

Not that it’s really so hard to be on good terms. The bar is so low that simply not behaving like a total dick seems to do the trick—but the fact remains that when Hob calls for one of the messenger boys who hang around outside to send for whoever’s working that night, he knows someone will come by. He pays them well, he gets along with most everyone, and it’s really not that hard to get one’s prick wet under those circumstances.

He’s just finished oiling the final leather straps on his armor, is hanging it up to await the next fight, when he hears the entrance flap of the tent, to his back, swish open and shut again. The rush of cool night air into the warm, close space.

“Be right with you, luv,” he calls, tying off the last strap, and a deep, sonorous voice responds—

“Please, take your time, Ser Gadling.”

Hob whirls around, nearly falls over like a buffoon he goes so fast. Standing there is not one of the working girls he’s come to know. It is, in fact, Prince fucking Morpheus, dark hair tousled by the wind, wrapped in a long velvet cloak that sparkles like stardust where the light catches it.

“My prince,” Hob stammers, trying to decide whether he’s meant to bow and managing only a dip of the head. It’s Prince Morpheus’s fault, this awkwardness, Hob would have managed with perfect politeness the sudden arrival of one of his siblings, or even the King himself. It’s only Morpheus that fells him so. “I—”

“—called for a whore?” Morpheus finishes, quirking a brow. Hob can only describe the look in his eyes as mischievous.

Anything Hob might have possibly managed to say is derailed by the rush of interest to his dick. That look, that phrase in Morpheus’s pretty, proper mouth— and what is he implying—?

“That’s… not the word I’d use,” Hob finally manages, throat tight. “Did. Did you need something, my prince?”

“As I’ve said,” repeats Morpheus, taking a fluid step closer to him. And he’s— he’s fucking barefoot in the grass. Lord have mercy. “You called for a whore.”

Hob should step back. Instead he’s rooted to the spot. Paralyzed by a swirling mix of fear and arousal. “That’s not— you’re not—”

Morpheus keeps advancing on him, liquid and predatory. The deep vee of his robe suggests he’s wearing nothing underneath. He’s got some kind of glitter under his eyes. And he’s— he’s so beautiful. Hob has always thought so, especially on that one blessed night when—

“Do you think me not a whore?” says Morpheus. He says it with allure, almost pride, not shame. “Do you think, my knight, that I have never slunk into some lord’s bed to steal secrets? That I have never used my body to seal an alliance, when my words were not sufficient?”

Hob should be horrified at the thought of his prince debased so. Instead, the image of Morpheus on his knees flashes through his mind, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from whining. “That’s not— the same,” he manages.

“Is it not?” Hob’s ankles hit his bedroll and he trips back, falling on his ass and bracing himself on his elbows, and Morpheus follows him, crawling up Hob’s body in a long, sinuous movement, the velvet of his robe soft wherever it touches his skin. “People can make sex their trade for coin, but it is different when I offer myself up in exchange for goods or laws or partnerships?”

If that’s all the case, Hob should find out what Morpheus wants with him now. Instead he asks, breathless, taken in by Morpheus’s eyes, “What did you trade for, then, my prince?” Maybe Hob doesn’t care what Morpheus wants with him. Maybe he only cares that Morpheus wants him. “When you let a foreign king bed you, did you use your mouth?” He touches Morpheus’s lips with his fingertips, and Morpheus smiles, sharp and pleased. “Or did you let him fuck you?”

The thought is as jealousy-inducing as it is arousing. Hob has no right to be jealous about his prince. But.

“What I needed to,” says Morpheus. “I have learned how to bait my lures. Many kings, I have learned, like to ruin pretty young men. Do you know—” he taps a fingertip along Hob’s lips “—how many times I have ‘sold’ my virginity? Played the hapless youth desperate for an older man to teach him, to use him?”

Fuck. Fucking hell.

“And did you learn?” Hob asks, hyperfocused on every point where their bodies are touching.

Morpheus tilts his head at him, suddenly all innocence. “Learn what?”

And, well. He does know how to bait his lures, it turns out. Even knowing he’s sinking his mouth onto a hook, Hob growls and flips them, pushing Morpheus down into the sheets. Morpheus lets out a startled breath that Hob’s pretty sure is affected but still succeeds in sending a thrill through him, and a powerful sense—careful, delicate, don’t hurt him. Even though the small part of Hob’s brain that’s still checked in to reason knows well that Morpheus is the one truly in control of whatever’s going on here.

“Should I teach you, then?” he asks, dragging a hand through Morpheus’s hair— so soft. “Show you how good I can make you feel?”

“Please,” Morpheus breathes, wrapping a delicate hand around the back of his neck. Hob really hopes he isn’t going to get drawn and quartered for this. Might be worth it, though. He doesn’t want to die, but if there were a way to go… “Hob, please.”

Fuck, his name in that wanting mouth.

“Got my mouth on you last time,” he muses, the sense memory of Morpheus’s prick on his tongue rushing through him, the hard press of the palace flagstones on his knees, “think I can show you something new, now.”

“I defer to your experience,” Morpheus breathes, as Hob pulls open his heavy velvet robe. As he’d thought, Morpheus isn’t wearing anything under it, and the thought of him walking through the camp like that to get here makes Hob want to bite something. Morpheus makes him so base and irrational.

Hob hadn’t gotten nearly this far last time. Had simply pulled open the ties on Morpheus’s breeches, let his prince tug on his hair as Hob took him in his mouth. Now, he has Morpheus fully unveiled to him, like a gift, like an offering, and, just like an offering, Morpheus stretches, arches his back, long limbs in relief and his cock laying hard against the crease of his thigh. He’s so pristine, always tucked away in his palace, where Hob has been out in the trenches—literally—getting sun-tanned and rough and dirty.

Although. Not so pristine as Hob might have thought. Apparently.

“You’re beautiful,” Hob tells him. “Your body is beautiful. I can’t wait to show you what I can do with it.”

Morpheus shudders, keeps playing along with their little facade of inexperience. “Will you ruin me for other men, Robert Gadling? Defile me, destroy my reputation so no respectable lord or lady will ever dare take me as their spouse?”

“You came crawling to my bed, pretty thing,” Hob says. Nips at Morpheus’s belly, which makes him cry out, such a pretty, keening sound, and then soothes where he’d bitten with lips and tongue. “You’ve been wanting it, I think. Someone to take you down, someone to fuck you.”

“Perhaps I simply wanted to reward my favorite knight,” Morpheus says, trailing off into a groan as Hob leaves another mark low on his pelvis.

“Should have told me you were the prize for valor,” Hob says. “I’d have killed twice as many men. Come to your bedroom still covered in the blood I spilled in your name.”

Morpheus actually moans at the image. “I’d have had you that way. My knight.”

“You can have me now.” It’s tempting, to do as he did last time, and take Morpheus into his mouth. But Hob wants to do something different to him. And he has the sense that Morpheus wants something different done. “Go on. On your belly.”

Morpheus’s breath leaves him in a shuddering rush, but he does as Hob says. Hob runs his hands down over his smooth back, his ass, his wiry thighs, kneeling between them and pushing them further apart. Morpheus whines, moving his hips in little circles to get the barest amount of friction on the sheets.

“You need it so badly.” Hob parts Morpheus’s cheeks with his thumbs, rubs over his hole, and Morpheus keens. “Don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, Hob, show me—”

Hob swipes the oil from the bag beside the bed—because yes, he is prepared for these sorts of things, if not specifically for his prince showing up—and dips his fingers in. Rubs them together to warm it, then slides one finger into Morpheus, without pause, straight to the first knuckle.

Morpheus lets out a choked gasp, fingers clenching in the sheets. The sound makes Hob’s cock twitch where it’s already straining in his breeches. “Hob—” he moans, strangled, “Hob, I—”

He starts to lift himself up, and Hob pushes him down with a hand on the back of his neck. Morpheus struggles for a moment and then goes boneless under him. Hob releases him and strokes his hair. “Good boy. You want it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Morpheus says shakily, pushing back on Hob’s hand when he starts working that finger inside him. “Please. Please.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Hob promises. Having Morpheus, his prince, his beautiful prince, splayed out under him like this is heady. If he weren’t so focused on Morpheus’s reactions, he might have lost his grip on his own arousal already. “But you’re mine.”

He slides another finger in, and Morpheus moans raggedly. Hob doesn’t know if he’s truly getting overwhelmed or if he’s still trying to play the clueless virgin, but either way it’s burning through Hob’s veins. He gets Morpheus writhing on his fingers, achingly hard in his own pants, taking each of Morpheus’s pleasured, crying moans as its own prize.

Morpheus is shaking, panting, as Hob pulls his hips up, undoes the laces on his own breeches to pull out his cock, lines himself up. Morpheus presses his face into the bed, fingers tight in the sheets. Hob touches his lips to the base of his spine, tastes the sweat there. “My prince?”

Morpheus swallows hard and it still doesn’t seem to clear his throat. “I am ready.”

So Hob braces his hips and pushes in, one long slow slide. He groans at the same time as Morpheus moans, so ragged it’s almost pained. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Well,” says Morpheus, “you are the first to have me so.”

Even aware that Morpheus is only playing at it, the words make Hob feel like he’s clinging to sanity by a thread. “You’ve been waiting so long, haven’t you?” he manages, as he starts to move, still holding Morpheus by the hips. Morpheus sighs at the slide, thighs trembling. It’s enough to make Hob obsessed. Morpheus is so tight and hot, Hob really doesn’t know how long he’s going to last, but he’s determined to give Morpheus just a bit of that ruination first. “Waiting for the right cock to fill you?”

Morpheus pushes back on him with a whine. “Yes.”

“Kept yourself as a prize for me?”

“Yes. Hob.”

Hob reaches around to take him in hand, and Morpheus cries out, bucking into his touch, pinned in place. Hob moves faster, each thrust pushing Morpheus into his grip, his breeches scraping roughly over Morpheus’s bare thighs, and it feels so base to have him like this, still clothed, taking him like a casual whore when he’s a prince. It feels wrong. But so good.

“How’s it feel?” he asks, voice gratifyingly steady. “For your first time?”

Morpheus lets out a wordless groan. Then, “Good. So much. I—” he trails off again, losing his breath. And this, too, is gratifying, reducing Morpheus, usually so eloquent, to broken sentences and simple words.

“Good, love.” Hob soothes a hand over his hip. “That’s good.”

But before Morpheus can settle, Hob increases his pace, pounding into him so hard and fast that Morpheus loses what remains of his balance and is held in place only by Hob’s hand on his hip, his arm wrapped around his belly. Each thrust pulls a sharp gasp from him, his face pushed into the sheets— and Hob’s nearly insensate with how good it is, but still he manages to pull Morpheus off in time with each thrust.

“Hob—” Morpheus chokes, “Hob, I’m—”

“You can come, love. I want to see you.”

Morpheus comes with a bitten-off cry, spilling over Hob’s hand. He’s so beautiful like that, Hob’s formal, perfect prince—crumpled in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, hair damp with sweat. It’s a collision of every illicit thought Hob’s swallowed down when he’s looked at him. In the palace, on campaign, at times when he was meant to be guarding Morpheus and when he wasn’t. He can’t last long thinking about that, seeing that, so he bends low over Morpheus’s back and kisses the back of his neck. One small, tender touch in this game of roughness and transaction, one touch before Morpheus inevitably swans back out of his tent, back to his writing and his diplomacy and his other diplomacy, and— fuck—

Hob holds Morpheus to him as he comes, wishing he could say, don’t go back to anyone else. You’re mine now, come to me. But those aren’t his words to say.

Morpheus slumps down to the bed, boneless and satisfied. Hob follows him, breathing hard against the back of his neck, finally releasing him from under his weight. Morpheus only winces a little when he pulls out, and Hob yanks off his own shirt and uses it to wipe off Morpheus’s stomach, between his thighs. Morpheus sighs, tipping his head back, a tiny smile on his face, then turns to face Hob, leaning on his arm.

Hob’s swiftly learning how weak he is for that smile on the face of the usually unreadable prince. He trails an exploratory finger along Morpheus’s jaw, up his temple, into his hair. Morpheus closes his eyes at the touch, slow and sleepy.

“Was that better than your many transactional trysts?” Hob asks. “Or do I have work to do?”

“I would not know,” says Morpheus, a self-satisfied little smile now curling on his lips. “Considering those did not occur.”

Hob blinks hard, mind going blank. “What.”

“I spun you a story, Robert,” Morpheus says. His voice is sex-rough, his hair a mess, his gaze drags over Hob’s body with a proprietary touch. “And it is a fun story, is it not? Plying secrets from between the sheets, returning home victorious when one was thought to be had. And,” he drags a fingertip down the center of Hob’s chest, “coming back to the bed of a lover. One whom one wants to be with. To be made his again.”

Hob is still stuck on this. “Wait, are you telling me you made all that up?”

Morpheus smirks. “Do you truly think that my words would ever be insufficient to obtain what this kingdom needs? Do you think I need to use my mouth other ways to get treaties signed?”

Well, when he puts it like that.

“It was a compelling story, though,” Morpheus muses as Hob continues gaping at him. “You seemed compelled.”

“Morpheus, why?”

“I wanted to see how my favorite knight would respond to knowing other men had had me,” he says, and keeps dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair in self-soothing patterns. Then his expression shifts from clever to almost shy. “And. I thought that if you knew the truth, you might defer too much to me. Treat me only like your prince.”

Hob’s stomach swoops. “And… what’s the truth, then?”

“That evening at the state dinner, when someone meant me harm and you saved me…” his voice holds a note of wonder now. “That. Was the first time that I had ever.”

“What?” He can’t lie to himself, the thought of being Morpheus’s first, for real, does spark something in him. But also. Morpheus is a prince. And Hob had been…

“I had never before had cause,” Morpheus explains. “I was uninterested in marriage. And I never found anyone worth threatening my reputation over. Until…” His lips purse, stressed now. “And I wanted you so. And. You wanted me.”

Hob is speechless, running through every second of that night in his mind. Sweeping Morpheus into his arms and out of the way of a blade. Morpheus’s wide eyes staring at the slice in Hob’s arm, the blood welling there. Blinking and finding himself crowded into a side hall, Morpheus panting into his mouth, the hunger of his pretty lips, heat and adrenaline running through Hob’s body, pushing Morpheus against the wall and sinking to his knees in front of his charge, his dear, his prince to worship. The tears that had pricked at Morpheus’s eyes as Hob had taken him all the way down.

Christ.

“Does that bother you?” Morpheus asks, uncertain now.

“I’d have shown you a better time then if I’d known,” Hob says, because doesn’t he deserve to be properly taken care of? “In an actual bed.”

Morpheus lets out a little huff of a laugh, expression easing. “I enjoyed it.”

“And then…” he lets his hand come to rest low on Morpheus’s waist. “You came back for more.” He kisses Morpheus and swallows his pleased sigh. “Hungry little thing.”

Morpheus’s breath shudders, and he clings to Hob’s hair, his shoulders. Hob’s about to roll on top of him again and kiss him properly, maybe more once they’ve recovered themselves, but pauses as a realization sinks in. “Wait. Does that mean—”

“Yes, Hob. You were the first man to fuck me.” He sighs. “Use that information against me if you wish. It is out of my hands, now.”

Hob is reeling with shock, and even more so with arousal, heat flashing through his body at the mere thought that all Morpheus had pretended at, newness and learning and raw, unpracticed want, had been, at least somewhat, real. And he had let Hob have that. Catch it. Had trusted him.

“Never,” Hob swears, kissing his cheek. “I would never. You’ll be my secret. Besides. I don’t think anyone would ever believe me even if I said. Me, with you? A prince? And a gorgeous one at that?”

Morpheus runs his hands over Hob’s shoulders. “You are handsome. And very gallant. I do not see what you mean.”

“Well, that’s flattering. And I won’t tell you to take it back.”

Morpheus runs his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dark where they trace over Hob’s jaw, shoulders, chest. “I have. Wanted you from afar. For a very long time.”

Obligingly, Hob kisses him, and sweeps his hands over Morpheus’s lower back, drawing him close. “You’re a prince,” he says, breathless again with want for this wonderful being. “You can have whatever you want.”

“So,” Morpheus nuzzles at his jaw, “I may steal my way into your bed? You would not mind that, Ser Gadling?”

“Sneak in, or stay, I won’t mind. I’ll give you all my secrets.”

Morpheus hums. “And your loyalty?”

Hob thinks he means it playfully, a continuation of his ruse from before—but it comes out much more serious. His gaze finds Hob’s with a deeper wanting than when he’d swanned into Hob’s tent, all draped fabric and fluid lines of desire.

“You have it already,” Hob murmurs, and Morpheus’s pleased sigh as Hob kisses him is a balm to his soul. “My prince.”

#if i don't post this attempt at 'just smut' now i'll end up crawling into a hole and eating the crumpled paper of it instead #just doing smut outside of a plot is like so hard mad respect to the people who write smut oneshots damn #dreamling #nsft #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ye olde prince/knight dynamic #my writing #this fic is actually absurd i'm sorry. but if at least one (1) person thinks this is hot i'll consider it a success. it only takes 1 #im cringe but im free

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lyss-sketchbox · 3 months

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Hot take from someone whos only played genshin as their gacha game but has been paying attention to the many rising gacha games after genshin.

I dont think ill be able to invest as deeply to other gacha games as much as i do genshin. That includes even hoyoverse's other similar games.

I think what genshin has above lots of other anime gacha games is both the character writing AND cultural representation. Idk its probably just me but i really like being able to look at a genshin character and see based solely on their looks their personality and cultural inspiration/home nation is. Unlike say Starrail where its almost indistinguishable where anyone is from (except for some obvious exceptions). Like idk look at Yunjin's opera song and Furina's performance. It fits THEIR character, it makes sense culturally why THEY were the ones performing it, and it represents the culture they came from beautifully. I dont think any other gacha games can pull that off without looking like forced pandering.

Its alot easier for me to invest into a story when the characters and environment has its own distinction and not just a bunch of random ass needlessly asymmetrical clothing and design traits with stats (extra points for being vaguely asian/modern/digital).

I know gacha games just do that they make you want characters. But good design motif and stories will make it so much easier and enjoyable to look at these characters as CHARACTERS and not just UNITS.

#lyssten to my rambles #genshin impact #yeah sorry if its a hot take #its just my opinion #and no i dont really plan on picking up ANYMORE gacha games #one is enough

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emdotcom · 2 years

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The Mario movie thing is so funny to me. Here, look at this:

Sonic movies (1, 2, & w/ 3 on the way) come out, does INCREDIBLE in box office, decimates Marvel films, who previously had a stranglehold

Nintendo sees this, wants a piece of that pie, buckles down to make a Mario movie Incorrect order of events, as pointed out here! Mario movie announced before the public knew about Sonic movie.

(Potentially because the previous Mario movie was so out there, did poorly, & was disliked by fans & then promptly forgotten,) they pair with Illumination, a studio that is largely known for making very sterile films

Btw, is it just me that finds it weird that there is no mention from Nintendo or online of the previous movie, in all this? Maybe I'm the only one who remembers this film idk

They announce casting. Everyone immediately boos because they cast Chris Pratt as Mario.

Immediate outrage, as Charles Martinet, the voice of Mario for DECADES, was not cast in his claim to fame roll

There is a (unsourced) rumor that a test screening for the film was met with disappointment, making Nintendo unhappy

Slightly corroborating this, Nintendo buys Dynamo Pictures, to make Nintendo Pictures, with the intent to make future movies in-house

Anticipation for the movie likens it to other sterile animated movies of the last 10 years, like the Minions movies

Trailer comes out.

People continue to boo Chris Pratt, a bad cast for a beloved character who is putting 0 effort into his voice, in comparison to all other VAs putting in 110%

Chris Pratt goes to bed "depressed," at seeing the response I was incorrect, that is an older article, about when he was thanking his wife for providing a healthy child, to which people drew immediate parallels to his ex-wife's son, who has many health complications & needed many surgeries.

But with your help, we can make him being depressed after media backlash reality!

Lol, &, may I say, lmao.

#gale chatter #mario movie #chris pratt #sonic movie #btw i 100% believe that rumor you cannot tell me that ain't what happened #also it is transparent that nintendo wanted what sonic movie had #damn maybe i don't do that batim video as my first maybe i do mario movie #my hot take is they should have cast both charles martinet & the super mario bros super show va #& used them interchangeably #bc. that would own #i wanted to mention thr jack black ass thing here but i feel it's too out there & irrelevant #at first reading the quote ppl got mad at i was little like 'oh dang is this not as bad as i thought'#but then i remembered 1) it's chris pratt he says rancid shut all the time & 2)#this response of stating he feels depressed while not like apologizing is just to do nothing but evoke pity #& he easily coulda apologized & been like 'i didn't mean it that way' or 'i wasn't thinking abt it & I'm sorry'#but he's not sorry. he doesn't see anything wrong with what he said. it's the internet's reaction that is thr problem in his mind #so he wants to make them pity him & feel bad that shit is TEXTBOOK manipulation i would know lol

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aq2003 · 5 months

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really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:

(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")

this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks

i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:

(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)

freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama

#THIS ISNT ABOUT ROSE WE CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT WHITE GIRL FOR 1 SECOND. IDC #ALL SHE DOES W REGARDS TO MARTHA IS REMIND HER THAT TEN ISNT GOING TO FALL IN LOVE W HER.#ALL SHE DOES W REGARDS TO TEN IS REMIND HIM THAT EVERY TIME HE LOVES SOMEONE HES FATED TO LOSE THEM. WE CAN IGNORE HER PAST THIS. GBLESS #martha jones #tenth doctor #dr who #ten and martha #'theyre like a rebound' shooting you with my laser eyes sorry. martha says it when she still thinks he's taking her on dates #if he hadn't opened up about gallifrey she would've been totally fine w him taking her back home #and meanwhile ten is very unaware of any kind of romantic element until like the fuckinn. last possible moment lmfao #they are doctor and mentally unstable bus driver. Or perhaps grieving man (genderneutral) and their One (1) friend that has to support them #um idk what this post is. i wanted to pick apart martha's brain for a hot second.#edit:#it's not like 5 am and i'm reading these tags and they're a lot more mean than i meant to put them down as #Not changing them bc i already wrote so much it's out there in the world already sorry. just imagine i'm saying this all nicely #10 era

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shower-phantom-ideas · 6 months

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Jazz becoming the next big Gothem villain is such a solid concept. Theres so much to explore.

She targets corrupt mental institutions. Corrupt companies who destroy their workers state of mind so they wont quit. She attacks landlords who make it impossible for people to live comfortably.

She is the staple anti-hero of anyone struggling to get back on their feet. People should have to work three jobs just to afford a crappy one bedroom, no utilities, half bath, in crime alley apartment, with a roommate.

Shelters should be aiming to gain a profit instead of using the donations to support others.

She is tired of these big name heros leaving children to clean up messes. She has watcher her own brother wither away to a shell of his former self trying to make a change and she is sick of it. Hell she herself is a child but if this is what it takes, then this is what it takes.

Enter from the left The Manipulator™️

Feared by all corrupt. People think she has mind control or something. When she targets someone they make almost a full 180 in their ways. “She will do anything to get her way or to make people into what she thinks they should be. And she mist be stopped” cries big business.

In reality she is the worlds best damn psychiatrist ever to be known. She doesn’t force anyone to change but gives them the choice to be better. To see how much more they can be. And it terrifies them. Helps them find themselves again and to move past their troubling pasts. No force and no mind control. No manipulating. No one but those who she has helped know the truth but when they tell the truth it only fuels the fire of her being controlling.

Theres one thing also fuelling the flames of mind control. Thats the fact that every single major hero to go after her can’t. Any who approach her find themselves no long near her. Superman just wants to talk, well she doesn’t, and he is then back in his city?!? Batman is stalking her to figure out how to deal with her but once he gets too close he suddenly finds himself in the batcave?

At first they think it’s teleportation but time is passing? Theres video feed and tracking of no they just went back themselves. No response from them the whole trip. As if possessed. (Lmao it’s just good brother danny pranking his sis a little by making her seem all powerful but also protecting her anyway he can. Or could be Dan instead)

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #jazz fenton #manipulator? I hardly know her hehehehehehe these jokes are peak for me atm #jazz snaps and does some changing of the world #vlad is funding her because hes scared of her #no good tags today boiz I gotta call my mom and the hot water is gonw #yes yes I know I know I said I hate my mother but I am a good boi and will bring her lunch today so she eats #plus my sistet never leaves the house so im offering to take her too so maybe she can get some sun light #oh I got a promotion at work too btw #not the one I wanted but meh it’s something right?#gonna be working mon-fri 10hour shifts so ill be a bit busy sorry #got a catboi danny post in the drafts for you later though so u wont starve I guess #who am I kidding plenty of dpxdc posters for yall I aint gotta be worried #oof that makes me sad kinda so im a dip

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ronkeyroo · 1 year

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❌ CARNAGE (Tw; blood/gore)

#snarling hot and bloody werewolf people sounds #i grossed myself out with the new blood rendering hgnhgnf 😭 shouldve went for my simple style #BUT #we have some hot jorrvaskr twins being sexy again #sorry for the damage bois ;_;#ill go sleep today has been….bad #take care guys ily #tw; gore #tw: violence #tw; blood #Farkas #vilkas #mid transfo #werewolf #werewolves #skyrim #tes #my art #skyrim art shenanigans

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andy-clutterbuck · 7 months

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4x02 | Infected

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thatonecrookedsmile · 6 months

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You will acept your fate... Before the end..

------

Without much creativity to come up with a good line/phrase. I had to improvise.

It's been exactly 1 year since Bendy and the Dark Revival released...jeez. Already? I'm telling you, time doesn't make sense anymore, everything is going slower and faster at the same time. It's crazy!

I was in the middle of drawing something more specific for the anniversary but…I didn't finish it lol. Like always! But I have this prompt that I finished a few days ago and that I was hoping to post along with 2 more drawings. But I think today is a more ideal day to post this.

So as a anniversary present I give you guys…Angst™. With the boys. Very ideal.

I remember having another idea for this prompt but the current idea popped into my head so I decided to abandon the previous one. I found it more interesting. A "What-if" idea I had at the time the game launched partially inspired by something specific I thought about these two. Based so much on what I've seen and read about these ink creatures, and on the general idea of "2 minds in one".

I confess that in the end I started to question whether this is the way I see the relationship between these 2 and all this business of "two in one package" that they have. And I still don't know if this is really my vision. I just had a drawing idea that I thought was cool and I just stuck with it until the end. I didn't have many second thoughts until I got to the finish line.

Changing the subject: The anniversary.

I can't believe it's been 1 year since this game came out. The time flies! Good to know this finally released after 3 years.

I don't think I've ever talked abouy my thought on the game before,or at least,not the game as a whole. I wanted to leave this for the specific anniversary drawing, but hey. Why not here?

In short: I really liked it! I've been waiting for this game for a good while so when we finally got that final trailer last year, you could say I was pretty excited for the next 2 weeks until release. I don't know if I knew exactly what to expect from this game, and there's always that fear that I won't end up liking what I play when it released. But I really liked it! Loved it, I would say. I had a lot of fun and I believe I can say that, in general, I had a pretty positive experience with it.

Of course, I have my own grievances and complaints about some things in the game (some probably talked about here on Tumblr and others not) that I would like to see improved for next game,The Cage. But even with these complaints in mind, I wouldn't say that it took away my enjoyment of this game. Especially considering that the positive points (or at least what I consider positive in my opinion) for me, prevail over the negative ones.

At the end? Yeah, I really liked Bendy and the Dark Revival. Happy to see it finally released and be able to play it. I personally believe that we are in a good direction when it comes to the games, and I can't wait to see what the future holds.

Happy 1 year anniversary BATDR! And happy birthday to both Little Guy and Big Guy (Little Bendy and the new Ink Demon,respectively).

Love you both.

#Sorry for the length of this post; I just had a lot to say lmao #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #batim #bendy and the ink machine #dapper bendy #cartoon bendy #the ink demon #crookedsmileart #at the end of the day I would say I like both BATIM and BATDR equally #And of course I keep Ink Machine close to my heart; without a doubt #Game changed me #but there's something about Dark Revival that I really love; you know?#Which makes me; on the other hand; say that I like DR more than IM #something that after 1 year I don't know would it be a hot or cold take here on this site lmao #but yeah #big fan of these games #looking foward for The Cage

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quins-makeshift-menagerie · 6 months

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Gentle reminder that my kofi link is in my pinned post. While The Other Q’s ER trip won’t financially destroy us it’s still going to be a big hit on top of having to get some major repairs done on the car before winter hits

#I #genuinely hate doing this #I wanted to open commissions instead #so people would at least get something in return that feels worth it #but i haven’t been mentally in the right spot to take those for months and this isn’t helping #at this point doing anything more than silly doodles to try and keep my spirits up feels exhausting #just gotta #hope things will be okay with Q and the car and everything else #sorry I’m just not doing so hot either #I’m still dealing with withdrawals from stopping my medication and now I’m getting a cold from sleep deprivation again #fun times #I’m so tired

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gatogotica · 10 days

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Herbert West is iconic gay representation for multiple reasons but honestly the most painfully accurate reason is that not only does he have a type (tall brunet male bimbos) that he folds for every time without fail, but he also holds out the classic homosexual hope that he’ll be able to turn said men he falls for. and they leave him for a woman every time. He’s just like us

#I’m sorry if making Dan a whole ass person and bending over at every turn for him wasn’t enough? honey he was never gonna stay!#and bitch don’t even get me started on Howard…#I was in support of Herbert’s cougar arc and I actually did enjoy Howard in Beyond but tale as old as time…Herbert just couldn’t keep him #always playing second fiddle to straight women SMH…he just needs to stop going after straight jocks it will only end in heartbreak #he’s too good for Dan and Howard anyways and that’s my hot take #my post #reanimator #herbert west #we all agree this dude is gay right?

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sunshinepixels · 1 year

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typical florida house

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ego-meliorem-esse · 7 months

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TBH your Francis sounds like he sees Matthew more as a pet rather than a child

I think thats the root of the problem. Not really a pet but rather a status symbol. Look at him he has a child who is a personification who looks like a mini version of him that means he is truly influential and an empire bla bla.

I consider love Arthur has for alfred pretty linear. From year 0 when Al is born he is loved fully. He is loved fully by his father (even if showing it would be less likely than cutting his own limbs off with a shovel) during the civil war, he is loved fully during the great war and the war that followed. He is loved fully today.

Matthew and François have a different love. Or rather, François' love is very non linear. I imagine it has spikes, but also periods of drops. When Mathieu is born François is proud. He loves his son but pride is stronger. Is always is for François. He has his own very kitch life, he is not made to be a father. Especially not to an emotional and sensitive lil babe. Mathieu is forgotten often and when he does ask for his needs to be fulilled, when he asks for any kind of attention form his papa, it comes to him with conditions. Yes, you can have new books imported from Paris but I will choose what you read. Yes, you may spend time with me but its going to be at a ball with hundreds of other aristocrats. Pets? Alright, but only the small and weak dogs that show status. It died during the winter? Oh well, that happens.

After a while Mathieu doesnt ask for anything. He yearns and accepts whatever comes his way in regards of a show of affection from the one who made him. If he gets attention its because he did something right, if he is forgotten, its becouse he isnt adequate.

I like to compare Arthurs and François' love by comparing their homes. Arthurs country mansion where Alfred grew up has signs of Alfred everywhere, in every room. You can tell there is a child living in this house. Not only is there a child living in it, you can tell exactly what type of person that child is, what their interests and hobbies are. One look at the bookshelf and you see what fascinates the boy. When you look at the very desk in Arthurs study, its cluttered with neat and precise handwriting with scribbles and doodles right under. The garden with fantastic and grand flowers has small patches of trampled flora at every point. The room where the child resides is always open, always visible from the staircase.

Françpis' home in the heart of Paris is clean. It smells of parfume and repolished wood. His hallway is cluttered with French history. The partlor is tidy except from vibeantly dyed clothing hanging drom the chairs and sofas. There is a half empty bottle of expensive wine on the table next to neatly placed, yet scattered papers. The only noteworthy contents of those papers is the exquisite handwriting that lays upon it. The floor is clean. The sofa is clean. The space is tidy. You can tell a man lives there. A man. Nobody else. If you were to take a peak behind the closed doors of the other rooms you'd find a room with a grand bed with eternaly disheveled blankets and pillows along with pieces of clothing hanging from the edges. Its a used bed. This bed is used by a man. Another peak behind another door at the end of the hallway shows a guest bedroom. A guest bedroom for a child. Some ten books are stacked neatly on the small yet elaborately decorated table next to the bed. A bed with clean and unwrinkled bedding. The colors of the room match to a fault except for the small personal items of the guest child. One could assume the child had no idea what the room they are staying at would look like and whatever it did look like, theyd spend so little time there that in the end it doesnt matter how it looks. The closet is extensively decored with patterns of gold and light blue without a scratch on it. The floor is clean and tidy. It would seem the child forgot to bring any toys while residing here. One wouldnt be at fault for thinking this man has some distant relatives or personal friends with children, and would ocassionaly let them stay at his home.

It's a long conparison but its the best way i can explain myself while sporting a pulsating headache after a long day of classes

So yeah, while I dont think Mathieu is in a position of pet by his father, he is in a position of child who is the result of an one night stand and has to visit his father whenever the court decides and whenever his father decides its convenient.

#long answer you didnt want #god im sorry about the rambling #i have feelings about this dynamic #love these asks #they allow me to dump this hot garbage mwahhhhhh #i will take any chance to talk about these two #hetalia #hws england #hws america #hws canada #hws france #meli speaks #ask meli #historical hetalia #my headcanons #sorry about the typos im losing my fucking vision lol

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