#this was cruel anon... cruel...

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

There is a a newspaper clipping from when Johnny killed Bob, MURDER is written in big letters on it with Johnny and Pony’s names circled, there is a note with it.

HE SHOULD HAVE DIED TOO

All the money is missing from the tip jar

He rips the paper up immediately, huffing and backing away. He doesn't bother to look at it, let alone go near it after he's read it. Ripped up and done with.

“What-fucking-ever.” He grumbles, before wandering off to the shop part of the DX to find Steve.

“What's up with you?” Steve questions, meaning it more lightly than it came out.

Soda merely grunts in response, taking out a cigarette and leaning against the wall, covered in tools.

Steve raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't question it with how easily he can tell Soda's pissed off. And he goes right back to work.

The two sit in silence for a bit before Soda tells Steve what happened, and Steve tenses up almost immediately. 'Yeah, I'd be pissed too' he probably replies.

Eventually, after talking for a bit and Soda and Steve pat each other on the back, Soda's calmed back down and came back to the counter to ease his mind with hopefully a better question...

[magicicephoenix]

*Gives Sun headphones so that he doesn’t have to listen to everyone saying “Rats make me crazy” anymore*

*HOWEVER*

*IT’S ACTUALLY A BLUETOOTH CONNECTED HEADPHONES.*

*AND I JUST PUT ON THE RATS MAKE ME CRAZY ONE HOUR LOOP MWAHHAAHHA!!*

oh my sweet summer child. don't you know that red means STOP?

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

what a beautiful day to not give a flying fuck about the sexuality of a dude who's an actor.

[quiddling]

Maegor in a pin-up pose with his b̶i̶g̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶a̶i̶r̶y̶ titties out. Asking for a friend

sometimes i look into my ask box and it really leaves me actually speechless

[kerosnes]

draw a block tales chararer

kkayayayyy :9

i’m cruel kinging it oughhh

my 3rd time drawing block tales ever (last time being.. in like nov last year lol)

[block-tales-headcanons]

Headcanon bout the player and the ice dagger.

Sometimes... The the player just- puts like fruit flavoring on the ice dagger or dips it in any fruit juice just so they can suck on the ice dagger like a popsicle.

Yes the player has cut themselves by doing that, and they keep doing it anyway because the ice dagger heals them.

(bonus: this ice dagger popsicle consuming was especially prevalent in chapter four, occasionally the Cruel king would be summoned and he would catch the player eating up the flavored ice dagger-sicle mid battle, and would look at them with bewildered disappointment.)

that woudl actually ge so funny line imagine youre a dead king and then youre summoned as a spiriy and all of a sudden you see uour enby child licking a sword with strawberries on it, it was the same sword that KILLED YOU and drove you mad

[starry-eyedblog]

legitimately the only thing I can think of is husband!price coddling his partner, they're all bleary eyed from crying out of desperation for physical touch since he's been deployed for so long- just the pure neediness. needing him there in every way, physically and emotionally. just like him muttering small "'m here, I have you baby" or "feels too good now that I'm back, yeah? gonna take all of me anyways, love"

(the last sentence is nsfw but either way just... the reader being needy for him in every way when he returns home)

- cruel anon

cruel anon hello !! how are you? you're constantly keeping me fed with ideas and i love it. i need price to soothe me in his arms while i cry

warnings/tags: john price x gn reader, crying, clinginess, smut

you've spent most of this month in tears, desperate to be in your husbands arm, safe and sound. for some reason, his latest deployment was taking a real toll on you.

days seemed longer and the house felt too big without him. cooking just for yourself was becoming more difficult and going out to socialise just didn't seem to fill the gap in your chest.

but finally, it was the day he was coming home. you knew that his time home would fly by and you'd be waving him goodbye again, but thankfully he had been given a wee bit longer off this time due to how demanding and rough his latest deployment had been.

you were now waiting in the living room, sipping on a tea anxiously while you waited for the front door to open. any minute now and he'd be kicking his shoes off and sweeping you off your feet in a bear hug.

after around fifteen minutes, you had finished your cup and decided to go pour another. as you stood up from the comfy chair, that's when you heard the swift click on the front door.

you dropped the cup down, uncaring of where it lands as you rushed through the hallway to the front door. tears instantly pooled in your eyes, making your vision a bit blurry but you didn't care. all that mattered was that your husband was finally home again.

"hey honey, miss me?" john chuckles, dropping his bags onto the floor to open up his arms for you - which you happily ran into. he picked you up, squeezing you tightly before gently setting you back down.

salty tears streamed down your face as you pressed kiss after kiss onto his lips and face. after a minute of this, warm hands gently cupped your face, forcing you to stop moving and stare up. "hey, shh what's wrong baby?" john soothes while using a thumb to rub away some tears.

"i don't know, i guess i've just missed you a lot." you sniffle, your hands wrapping around his waist and holding on tight, never wanting to let go. your chest feels light now that your husband is back safe and sound.

john leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, "well i'm here now huh? not going anywhere honey." he whispers and you nod slowly, tears still streaming down your face.

it's been a few weeks since then, and your emotions haven't got much better. you cling to john where he moves around the house, desperate to just be with him. his physical touch always settles you, keeps you happy and calm.

john hasn't minded, he honestly thinks it's cute. you're acting like a needy house cat, and he's more than happy to treat and spoil you. the two of you haven't really gone out to be with friends since he's been back, too wrapped up in re connecting with one another to even think of leaving the house.

completing simple tasks around the house requires him by your side now, and whenever anything get's too much or goes wrong - he's quick to step in and help. you feel like you've struck gold with your husband. most people would find this emotional and physical clinginess too much, but not john.

he understands how hard it must be for you to be home alone for months on end, trying to keep everything together while also making sure you're getting out enough and staying on top of things. he's always well taken care of too when he gets back, you pamper him to the point he doesn't need to lift a finger.

this time though, it's you needing that extra support and closeness and john is more than happy to be there however you need. after all, why wouldn't he? john loves you, deeply.

it becomes even more apparent during sex, the way you cling to him and never want to let go. being able to have his bare skin on you while he fills you up is so comforting. he's surrounding you with his body, voice and scent; to the point where all you can think about is 'john john john john john.'

you cry and moan, gripping onto him while he slowly slides in. his lips are pressed to your ear, whispering filthy things. "feels so good that i'm back, right sweetheart? oh i know i know, c'mon you can take all of it i know you can. s'just been awhile yeah?"

it's emotional and euphoric, the way you tighten around him while tears stream down your face. he loves the sight of you broken before him, so dependant and trusting. it's something he'll never forget for the rest of his life.

the fact you trust him so deeply, letting him pleasure you to the point of exhaustion, still gripping onto him and crying for him. how could any man ignore such a beautiful bond with his wife?

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

The tragedy that is MC's family is constantly haunting me 😭 I'm over here, being like: omg [insert ro]!! such a cutie!! <33

that little tiny voice in the back of my head: the parents probably look at the remaining siblings and see glimpses of their dead children and they just have to deal with that.

LIKE WHAT??? bro let mw simp in peace 😟😧

Man. And I’ve only just gotten started. (so sorry)

[butmakeitgayblog]

cruel intentions anon here 🥹 can u share something with us? like a small snippet or a scene you've scraped or idk just some ideas? I've read the fic twice but I fear I'm fr addicted to them 😭

Well I'll admit I don't have too much since I've started focusing on only one project at a time, but I have a bit of a oneshot that goes with this pic

Set a few weeks after the, ahem, conclusion of The Bet. Nothing smutty posted here unfortunately, but it will be. Oh it will be smutty. Clarke does not leave Lexa looking like that for no reason 😌

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're whistling.

Honest to God, actually whistling. 

A jaunty little tune devoid of melody and structure. Nothing more than a slow sling of notes that doesn't really have any direction in particular, because the point isn't the song itself. 

It's the mood.

And that mood is… happy.

So, so fucking happy. 

Terrifyingly, unmitigatedly, euphorically fucking happy.

It's weird and you hate it, and it's embarrassing to even think about, but you wouldn't trade this feeling for anything. 

And really, who could blame you. Not when life has never been this good. All rose colored glasses and kiss-filled memories that dance like bubbly champagne around the empty space in your head.

You genuinely don't think anyone has ever been as blissful in the existence of the world as you are right now when the doors of the elevator slide open, and you swagger your exceptional ass into your penthouse's bottom floor. 

You drop your purse on the bench and toss your keys on the countertop, praying it leaves a scratch for your stepmother to have a stroke over. Just for the hell of it. You undo the clip and feel your hair untwist in tousled ringlets draped sensually across your shoulders. 

You whistle a few more notes, and contemplate grabbing something to eat, before deciding there's nothing else in the world that you need.

Because you're in love. 

And it's that love that keeps you smiling as you walk down the hall, adding an extra click in your steps just to hear the crispness reverberate off the walls you don't pay for. It's that same love that makes your heart race as you slam the antique handles down and throw open the parlor doors with a flourish, lightheaded and so goddamn euphoric you would fucking hate the chipperness for them if it were anyone else.

It's that love that makes you so stupid that you don't even bother to look around before your eyes land on her. Beautiful and formidable as she stands behind the bar. Her lips purse at the shotgun bang of the doors, but she doesn't even jump, and her control next to your chaos makes you love her even more.

“Miss me?” you burst in with a deep chested purr.

Because you're in love and you love her and you absolutely want her to know it.

You just… don't know how to fucking say it.

Not yet.

Grey-green eyes widen like a warning shot, darting from you to the corner of the room and right back again, so quickly you would've missed it if you hadn't been staring quite so hard.

“Not particularly, no,” she snips in that contemptuous drawl of hers without missing a beat, and pops the cork back on a bottle of gin that costs more than your semester's tuition. 

You, belatedly, follow her eyes to the corner of the room and see your housemaid diligently running a duster across the frame of your great-grandfather's portrait. 

Fuck.

Your heart drops right down to your asshole, but you send up a silent prayer of thanks because at least you hadn't tacked on the pet name ‘lover’ like you'd been using so much as of late. 

That's been the closest you could get.

But Sherri doesn't seem to have heard you. Or at least she doesn't pay you any mind, not having paused from her work for even a fraction of a second at your grand entrance and social faux pas.

You stand frozen, staring at Lexa still working her magic behind the bar, adding a splash of something red to a drink before taking a sip and grimacing at its taste.

She smacks her lips and shakes her head and sets the drink back down like it's personally offended her. 

You frown at the whole display because you know she's not even a gin girl.

“Sherri,” she calls in that sweet little voice she reserves for the people she actually cares if they like her. 

“Yes, Miss Lexa,” your faithful maid answers, immediately stopping to look over.

Huh.

Apparently her hearing is just fine.

Delicate fingers discreetly land on your stomach as she passes, trailing down to your hips and snagging the bottom hem of your sweater, yanking just so to send you stumbling several feet away from the door and out of the way.

“You should take the evening off,” Lexa says once she's left you off-balance in her wake. “Go enjoy life for a change.”

“Oh, I don't think—” Sherry starts but cuts off at the soft tisk from Lexa's lips. 

“No. No. Now, there is simply nothing to think about, because that was not a suggestion, my chérie.”

You smile at the lilt of her teasing. Always in awe, because for the life of you, you'll never understand how she manages to be such a condescending bitch while still sounding so innocent. So warm and pleasant. 

And to be fair, it really hadn't been a suggestion. 

You stand forgotten in the late afternoon shadows and watch as she closes in on your maid like a huntress. All sculpted calves and four inch heels. Hands tucked daintily behind her back.

“But your mother—”

“Will never know,” Lexa whispers, bringing one long, sexy finger up to press against the pout of her smile. “I can keep a secret if you can…”

Sherri sighs in her defeat and shakes her head with the fondness of an exasperated mother, and you wonder if there's anyone this girl can't charm off their feet.

Lexa preens.

“Good. Now, a little birdy told me it was your birthday this weekend.” She pauses just long enough for your maid to nod in surprise. “And, well… I guess I just couldn't help myself.”

You cross your arms and make yourself comfy by settling a shoulder against the wall. More than thrilled to just sit back and take in the show as this fucking magician pulls out a bracelet from goddamn nowhere. 

She hushes the woman's flustered coughs, ignores hands slipping through greying red hair and automatic dismissals of, “no, Miss Lexa, this is—I couldn't possibly.” She soothes it all with honeyed words of reliability and sacrifice and devotion to our comfort, all while clasping the understated but opulent chain to an overworked wrist, connected to a woman who doesn't seem to quite know what to do with herself. Nimble fingers twist and turn the apparently well-thought-out gift so it lays perfectly in place, admiring her own exquisite taste in jewelry more than anything, you already know.

You wonder when the hell she got so thoughtful. 

She ushers the woman out with a firm, guiding hand to her back, mouth tipped in a demure smile as she assures her, this is exactly what she wants. 

The parlor doors close much more gently than when you'd entered through them, and she spins gracefully on her heel, looking so fucking pleased with herself.

You hold her eyes. 

Uncross your arms.

And slowly, loudly, begin to clap.

“Well aren't you made of sugar and spice and everything nice, Miss Lexa.”

She pinches the sides of her skirt and fans them out, dipping into a mere suggestion of a curtsey.

You move as though to reach for her because it's been six hours too long since you've had your hands on that body, but her pleasantries drop away as she sends you a scowl and slips just out of reach. 

“Next time, have a touch more decorum when entering a room,” she sighs over the authoritative clack-clack of her heels. “I had just gotten that bracelet. Didn't even have a chance to wear it out yet.”

Ah.

Now that makes more sense.

Fuck, you love how good she is at thinking on her feet.

“No one told you to kiss her ass with jewelry, for fucks sake,” you mutter despite the efficacy of her brilliance because really, she always had to be so damn extra about everything. 

“It was all I had, and thanks to someone,” she says with a pointed edge, “I didn't exactly have time to figure out another distraction. And since I'm fairly certain she at least already knows we're sleeping together, I'd much rather stay in her good graces. I can handle losing a bracelet in exchange for…”

She trails off and vaguely gestures to the air between you. 

The thought alone of someone else knowing makes you want to vomit. 

You cross your arms tighter. 

“Why do you think that she knows?”

That evil fucking brow of her flits up when she looks at you like you're an idiot.

“Because you're not quiet, and she's not stupid, and half of Greenwich knows what you sound like when you come.”

You grit your teeth and wonder if it's worth reminding her who came on your fingers while loudly calling your name last night, but when she struts her perfectly bubble shaped ass back over to the bar, you ultimately decide that, no, it is in fact not worth it.

Apparently done with the minor complication of your eagerness and the conversion as a whole, she picks up the drink you'd all but forgotten and holds it out at arm's length, letting it dangle from the mere tips of her elegant fingers. 

“For you, my darling.”

You still haven't figured out exactly what she's playing at when she calls you that, because you know she is never sweet for nothing. You know there has to be a barb in there somewhere. Some sort of slight on your character or something. She shouldn't just call you ‘darling’ for no reason… But for the life of you, when she looks at you like this - like you're the only thing that matters in her broad and expansive world - you can't figure what it could possibly be.

“Gin and… cherries?” you ask when you take the glass and give a tiny sniff of the drink. 

She smiles indulgently and twists away to retake her place behind the bar, and suddenly her grimace from her sip before makes sense.

She hates sweet drinks.

Well.

Unless she's kissing the taste of them from your lips. 

“So is this what we're doing now?” You examine your drink closer. It doesn't look poisoned anyway. “It's this what we've become?”

She hums in question as she picks up a second shaker and stirs the contents. You watch her grab a martini glass and begin to pour her own crystal clear drink and, yes, that's much more her style.

You truly are fucking a master mixologist. Which you suppose is bound to happen considering she's been making drinks for one person or another since the tender age of thirteen…

“My kingdom for some context, darling,” she murmurs when you're too enamored to answer, popping an olive into her glass and taking a healthy sized pull, moaning at the taste.

You down half your bramble in one go and traipse yourself around the back of the bar.

Setting the drink down at her side, you put your empty hands to much better use. Drift your fingers across the soft dip of her back and trace her hips, holding her steady as you press in and drape yourself along the length of her.

“Acting like a vintage married couple,” you clarify in a whisper. You reach up and pull her hair aside to expose the delicious expanse of her neck, and you wonder in what lifetime you actually managed to do something good enough to deserve the way she tips her head to the side to give you more access. 

You mouth slow, wet kisses along the sensitive spot just behind her ear as she sighs, “Is that what this is?”

“You tell me, pretty girl.” You smile against her skin when she shudders at the name. “Waiting for me to come home to you. Having a drink ready. Did you make me a special little dinner to eat as well?”

And you're still getting used to this.

This thing with her you've been playing at for the last couple of weeks. This truce or whatever it is that leaves you so off balance you never know which end is up.

Because you've never had something like this. 

Because where you expect a scoff and a rebuff of your entire charade, she only presses harder into you with a sensual groan. Where you expect her to fling your hands away and shove you off of her entirely as she would have before, she merely sets down her glass, and kisses your lips, and covers your hands with her own.

"Not in your wildest dreams, my love," she whispers with an adoring grin, and kisses you deeper again.

[aalexan]

i am quite literally a baby radfem in the sense that i am both a teen and have only been a radfem for 4-5 months? i have many trans friends my age who are very sweet people i enjoy being around, and i really like a few trans celebrities and the ones i don’t, i do respect for being bold and subverting the norm in some way. i would never want to call someone the wrong pronouns or name, but i can’t help but feeling like im betraying my trans friends when i engage with radfem content (even if its not inherently TERF). i really respect these people, but in my ideal world man and woman would be simply a biological label and everyone can present themselves how they want. this idea can directly affect the mental health of my friends and my relationships with them: so my question is, how do i treat this contradiction? is it even possible? should i treat it as i do christianity and religion, where i can respect the followers while criticizing what its rooted in? sorry this is so long!!

honestly, I don’t even think it necessarily has to be a contradiction. for me, even though I am a terf, I don’t harbour a hate for trans people, only a disagreement with their ideologies. i don’t think trans people are inherently bad or anything of the sort - I’ve met plenty of trans people who are really great! people just don’t understand what being a terf actually is, or what we believe in. I’ll be honest, I don’t know if it’s possible to change your friends minds. our disagreement with gender ideology is often seen as more of a personal, mean-spirited attack than what it is; a disagreement based off logical arguments and thinking. the most I can recommend is to stay connected with the rad fem community and like-minded people who understand why we think what we do.

[marronje]

oooh TogaChako Madoka Magica AU? They have SayaKyo vibes… doomed yuri 🤝

HIIIII I'm so sorry it took so long, but I read this and understood I needed to rewatch the entire show and the movies too XD

So I settled on a screenshot redraw, thanks for your suggestion 🤝

A bit of rambling. I first watched MM long ago, and only thought togachako suited the madohomu vibes. You opened my eyes somewhat!

The rivalry at first, the fact that Kyoko reached out to Sayaka first just like Himiko did to be rejected

The Sayaka's hero complex mirroring Ochako's

Kyoko being called a monster by her own family

The ultimate sacrifice Kyoko (Himiko) makes in the end

It hits me hard, thank you for the thoughts anon! (and for the waiting too)

[pearlescentparade]

more loyal knight w Cruel king hcs cause.. I need that old man so bad..🤭🤭🤭

If you decide to act all chivalrous around cruel king, going the extra mile to treat him with care and respect he gets sooo flustered. Every time you call him ‘my lord’ or ‘my king’ he just kicks his feet and twirls his hair like a teenage girl. Like yeah other knights do the same but the way you say it, the way YOU refer to him,,, it just makes him SWOON…

He WILL make you his personal knight, and lowkey his personal servant… As you follow him around everywhere he notices how you do sm thing for him that the other knights wouldn't: like fetching him a drink when he seems stressed doing paperwork for his kingdom, or taking off his heavy crown when he's sitting down reading his favorite book, or offering to help him with writing letters or putting together galas..

It's always the little things for him that he loves. You're always the first person to notice if the voices are getting to him or if the ice taking over his body is slowing him down some days and it just makes him CRAZY.

Eventually he just asks you to sleep in his bedroom with him, he will have everything in here moved or replaced for your comfort. If you tell him it's too much he just says he’s returning the favor. He wants to do things for you!! He wants to give you gifts and love bc you deserve it!! This also translates into him being a huge service top in bed, he will be at your every beck and CALL so have fun w thattt

You rlly got a whole ass king wrapped around your finger. Bless❤️

-🍊🍨

CRUEL KING CRUEL KING ASHUDSG!!!!

king getting princess treatment n it makes him so giddy bc it feels like he's being cared for and looked after rather than being served because it's simply duty,,,, amazing and immaculate idea!!!

[quiddling]

Love the way u draw meager. angry looking cat who's evilly evil

i had no intention of drawing this man as much as i have but that is the curse of enjoying drawing men with big boobs 😔

[the-future-haunts-you]

Since it happened to Builderman and Sheledsky….

M!A Cruel king into a cat!(5posts)

-🎨 Anon

* "Pardon?"

* "Here we go again..."

* [0/5]

[coro-sg]

Cool idea came to mind, nerdy grinder and EMO king, swap idea!

Take your pick of “erm, ackshually” or an emo 50 year old man

[block-tales-headcanons]

I can’t count how many times I’ve mentioned birdplayer or dadletsky on one of my headcanons but HERE COMES ANOTHER ONEEEE

Wing preening for Player and Shedletsky’s species (I wish I was good at coming up with species names because I can’t just refer to them as their species anymore) is a very intimate act only to be done by a very close partner (almost always romantic) or family

Player used to have it done by Shedletsky but he was never the most gentle with their wings (think memes of moms brushing their kids hair) and he is currently incapacitated at the moment and so Player has to find others to preen their wings

The only people they’ve felt close enough to let preen their wings were Kyoko, Griefer, Cruel King (surprisingly the preening that happens in the nirvana carries over to the real world), and surprisingly Terry (he always acts like he does it begrudgingly but he genuinely doesn’t mind)

Player has the hots for Kyoko and Griefer and see Cruel King and Terry as a father and older brother respectively change my mind

-nonbinary player enthusiast anon

players species could just be called

birbies