#I’ll write this one day

[nanaqcime]

established Radioapple and Alastor meets the archangels.

alastor immediately does what he did with Lucifer, taunt and antagonize them. It’s both funny for him (and me) and it’s in Lucifer’s name xD

meanwhile said archangels try to get along with him because, well, they want to fix their relationship with their younger brother and accepting Alastor is step one!!!

[rabbitholessk]

have a hc that Cardan took Jude to a hidden lake during the day, when the sun was out, assuring the folk would be asleep.

He noticed after her return from her exile, and after the snake debacle, that Jude was unsure around water.

He took care to make it seem like a date, and it was, but more importantly a healing exercise for Jude.

The whole time Cardan is patient and doting on Jude, but also careful to be his typical playful self to keep her from getting defensive.

After a few hours spent frolicking in the lake Jude quietly thanks Cardan on the way back to the Brugh. She doesn’t specify for what, but they both know what her gratitude is for.

[jareicanon]

one of the funniest things to me is that xander isn’t even actually british but people are so determined to ignore that. Me? I create obscene hcs about Xander adopting quirks from living in England that he only starts using when he moved back to America — but when he was in England, he refused to conform and just irritated so many people that way. Another hc I have is that he himself denies being british venomously, bc if there’s one thing about Xander is that he tries to be honest (sidestepping chapter 1, say this is set pre-canon), but not one person from that class believes him, so he’s stuck at stalemate

[kuradoberijam]

Yes I’m one of those people who think Drift’s spirituality is bogus. Yes I’m also currently formulating a Dratchet au where Ratchet goes into a metaphysical store to buy Thunderclash a gift for the holidays and meets Drift who is there that day because it’s one of the days he can’t call in sick based on moon shenanigans and have it actually work. Ratchet sees through Drift’s worksona, they hit it off, hijinks ensue. They fall in love.

[remxedmoon]

practicing self care (projecting my stims on my blorbos)

greyscale vers below the cut!

[femmeidiot]

reminder that on this indigenous people’s day the community of standing rock is still engaged in multiple legal battles surrounding DAPL which trump authorized the building of after Obama stopped it. The draft EIS statement is out now for public comment in the US so if you live in the US try to make public comment. There will likely be draft public comment statements published that you can easily email within the next few days.

here’s info on the EIS and public comment : https://www.nwo.usace.army.mil/Missions/Dam-and-Lake-Projects/Oil-and-Gas-Development/Dakota-Access-Pipeline/

The comment period closes on November 13th

[demonic0angel]

Story Idea

Story idea where the Batfamily stumbles upon a painting that was kept away because it's considered haunted and take it home. It has reportedly caused hallucinations, dizziness, headaches and nosebleeds, unnaturally unlucky incidents, “accidental” deaths, and much, much more, whenever one is kept in someone’s home. It's one of the Team Phantom members, but I like to think it's Jazz because she's a good introduction to the ghost craziness.

However, at night, they discover why the painting is called haunted. When night falls, the painting talks and has conversation with people, just like a regular person. At first, only Jason could see it and he thought he was going crazy until Jazz was eventually able to chat with all of the Batfamily members and says that she’s actually part of a collection. A collection of 7 paintings that were all created by her little brother for their family, which also included his portrait, and they have to collect them all or the paintings will continue to wreck havoc on the mental and psychological health of everybody around them. (The only reason the Batfamily is safe is because Jazz is a less haunted painting than the others and the Batfamily are already halfway insane).

Cue ghost and spy shenanigans as the Batfamily all have to search for the 7 paintings created by D. P. Fenton, a mysterious individual who created 7 works of art and trapped his loved ones’ spirits inside of them.

Sketches of the paintings

[charlie-artlie]

Bonnie in the real world 💖

[theorphicangel]

mhmmm thinking miguel forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror as he fucks you from behind.

“see how pretty you look, mi amor, you’re taking me so well.”

Miguel would praise you constantly, cupping your face, forcing you to watch yourself.

“you look away and I’ll stop, okay baby?”

miguel would have your legs spread in front of the mirror, your pretty pussy on display. he’s positioned behind you, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your clit, not allowing you to cum until you call yourself pretty and mean it wholeheartedly.

“i—I’m beautiful .”

“dígalo outra vez.” [say that again]

“I’m beautiful.”

“ahhh good girl.” he whispers into your ear, increasing his pace on your clit. “see that wasn’t so hard was it?”

[notherpuppet]

I KNOW YOU USUALLY DRAWING RADIOAPPLE BUT I JS WANNA SAY I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW ALASTOR AND HUSKS RELATIONSHIP THE TOXIC OLD MAN YAOI IS AMAZING!!!!!11

I’M MULTISHIPPER AF

I know the majority of my fanart is radioapple (I just think of too many antics for them haha) but I like to travel on many ships 🚢

I am limited by my drawing hand and the hours in a day 😭

[inkkill]

[800db-cloud]

i’ve been wanting to do this since day one

[magicandmundane]

Something something Clone Force 99 breaking binders in every season finale

[library-ghoulette]

Headcanons: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x reader who loves to bake

SFW, gender-neutral reader

Some cutesy fluff that I haven't been able to get out of my head all week. Because we've seen him go to town on that whipped cream in RHRN, we know this man has a sweet tooth.

He finds out about your hobby when you bring baked goods to a staff meeting or a Ministry potluck. "Who brought these cookies?" "Er, I did?" "So good... Did you get them at that little bakery in town?" "Oh no, I made them!" "You made them??"

He would never outright ask you to bake for him, but he can't help bringing up those cookies every now and then. Just... wouldn't it be nice if there were something sweet at the budget meeting next week? People would probably like that?

You bring a batch, plus a little box with a few set aside especially for him. You pass it over to him in secret so that no one gets jealous, and he falls for you, hard.

He becomes your go-to person to test new recipes on.

Loves to hang out in the kitchen while you bake, chatting your ear off the whole time and stealing little tastes of batter and handfuls of chocolate chips.

Wants to help, but you always end up banishing him to a stool a safe distance away from whatever you're baking. It's not that he's a fuckup, but he gets nervous when he's outside of his comfort zone, and that's when you get chaos in the form of dropped eggs and tablespoons confused for teaspoons.

Asks questions about what you're doing and seems genuinely interested even if he doesn't really get the technical aspects.

Yes, of course he wants to lick the beaters. And the spatula. And the bowl. Yes, it does send your mind to filthy places every single time.

Prefers brownies and cookies just slightly underbaked and gooey, warm out of the oven. He's impatient and hates having to wait for anything to cool down.

He's definitely one of those people who make nigh-pornographic noises when they eat something delicious. Exclamations and expletives, moans, praise.

He has so much confidence in your abilities that it borders on delusion. This is a man who will see the most heinous challenge on GBBO, one that reduces the contestants to tears, and scoff, "Heh! You could do that, easy!"

He's careful not to take your baking for granted or make you feel unappreciated. He knows what it's like for people to constantly demand more and more, and he's not going to do that to you.

Realizing that sometimes you get a sugar craving when you don't feel up to making anything for yourself, he teaches himself a simple recipe for those occasions. Yes, it's just a chocolate mug cake made in the microwave, but he's so proud when he makes it for you. He always adds a generous dollop of whipped cream and some of whatever sprinkles he finds in your stash, usually Halloween ones.

If you find some expensive piece of equipment or fancy ingredient or novelty cake pan that you want but can't justify buying for yourself, he won't rest until you let him get it for you. Or, if you protest too much, it will just show up on your doorstep one day.

The first time you make a birthday cake for him--pulling out all the stops with luscious fillings, homemade buttercream, fancy piping tips--he tears up. Just stares at it for a moment in shock before blowing out the candles. Barely wants to cut it. Insists that you get good pictures of it before he does. It's one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for him, and it makes him feel so, so loved.

[joeyalohadream]

Been playing with a canon divergence au in my spare time where Gale and John meet when they’re children in Manitowoc. Gale is five and John is eight.

John names Gale ‘Buck’ and Gale follows this older boy around like a shadow because his home life is garbage and John is so cool. John loves it. He teaches him everything, fusses endlessly over Buck’s ratty clothes and his bruises and how small he is. They’re inseparable.

They’re best friends for a couple of years (maybe 3-4), but one day, Gale’s dad gets in trouble with some bad people (gambling, etc) and he packs up his son and his wife in the middle of the night and takes off for Wyoming.

John is devastated and with the time period, has no way of ever finding this sweet little boy again. But they think about each other all the time.

And then, a decade and half later, Gale walks into his assigned room at flight school and John sees him and its butterflies and happiness and disbelief and “you remind me of my old friend Buck from Manitowoc”.

[theproverbialpen]

Desire.

Lucifer Morningstar (pov) x gn!reader

I’ve come to realize getting high makes me horny, so uh… here’s the consequence of that, I guess.

CW// uh idk honestly. Smut? I’m gonna be honest this is just elaborate foreplay idk how to tag this lol. 18+, Minors DNI

Silk. Skin. Sweat. Teeth. Bites and claws and cries and lips. Hair and hands and eyes and desire. And Desire. In pupils the size of the moon, deep as the sea and alluring as the pale lunar glow, Lucifer found a longing so intense it nearly broke him. Perhaps by the end of the night, it would.

But no, no he… he had to contain himself. He had to hold back, to stay in control. For once in his foolish, reckless existence, he had to remain disciplined. Because in his arms was an angel, a beauty, a savior. His savior, from the hollow and empty loneliness that had carved out every semblance of self he ever had. For this first time in years, his bed was warm, his heart was full, and his mind was at ease. For the first time in years he felt wanted. He felt desired. And so he fought to keep his own beast of desire caged within his chest, locked away by steel and fury and sheer force of will. But with each sigh that escaped his lover’s lips, each moan that reached his ears like a symphony, he felt the caged rattle and shake. Desire wished to be free. Desire wished to take and take and eat its fill of the delectable meal beneath him.

He pressed his lips to their neck, traveling down the curves of their body and leaving a trail of wet, teasing kisses in his wake. His lover groaned beneath him, the deep sound rumbling through their chest as Lucifer slid his hand around their waist and onto the small of their back. He would take it slow, tantalizing slow, letting this ghost of his touch drive them to the edge. He dragged his teeth across their hip bone, holding them down as they squirmed and shuddered. A smirked tugged at the corner of his mouth and he let his forked tongue snake forth from its den, lapping up the blood that had begun to flow when they jolted upward, their body craving friction. Lucifer pressed a gentle kiss to their navel, his face resting on the soft pillow of their stomach. He forgot how warm skin could be. He wanted more. He needed more. And he knew they did too. But he would be patient. He would not mess this moment up.

“L-Lucifer,” came a shaky stutter above him. The dulcet tone of their voice was strained, laced with yearning and desperation. Desire crashed against his chest, his heart beating along with the pounding of its fist. He could almost feel the blood in his veins as it rushed to his face and his crotch all at once. The sensation was nearly as intoxicating as his lover’s cries. “Lucifer, please,” they begged, barely above a whine. Lucifer then made his fatal mistake.

He looked up.

Their face was flushed, hair sticking to their forehead where sweat had begun to bead. Their eyes were lidded, doing little to shield that intense longing that laid beneath their stare. Lucifer watched, transfixed as their chest heaved while they struggled to catch their breath. His gaze wandered upward, landing on plump lips, swollen and glistening with drool. It was like something out of a magazine, an image so erotic even the most shameless of sinners would hide their face. They were the very picture of fervor, of lust—of love, even. They were the picture of desire.

Lucifer wanted to fuck them into the mattress until they screamed.

“Luce I-” they began, trembling as he rubbed circles into their sides with his thumbs. He could feel them shake under his hands and where his chin was resting against their torso.

“Yes, beautiful? Don’t get shy on me now,” he taunted, the veil of arrogance doing little to hide the anticipation in his own voice. He used the humor like a safety blanket, one last layer to shield his lover from his feral need. Like a padlock on a rotted wooden fence, it was all he could do to bolster the cage trapping his own desire. If he could play it off, they could keep making sweet, tender love. If he could play it off, his lover didn’t need to find out what kind of sinner he could truly be.

“Please, Lucifer, just- just fuck me already, please,” they begged, and just like that the dam was broken. Lucifer’s eyes darkened into a crimson red, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of their hips hard enough to bruise.

“Darling,” he cooed, his voice dangerous and low. “You gotta be careful what you wish for. Haven’t they told you never to make deals with the devil?” One last one-liner. One last desperate, feeble attempt to save Lucifer from himself, from drowning in the desire that threatened to overtake him. One last out.

“Lucifer, I need you.”

Desire wished to be free. Desire wished to take and take and eat its fill of the delectable, irresistible meal beneath Lucifer Morningstar. Desire was about to break the King of Hell. But as he settled between their legs, pressing his palms into their knees and spreading them wider, Lucifer decided:

He was not going to let this moment go to waste.