#Questy's ramblings

[candymagnolia]

I literally can't stop drawing and thinking about Uncle Samsonite bro..

(also I thought this dude was some type of fever dream I had when I was younger)

other version↓

I literally drew him 7 times in school like bro..I CAN'T STOP WHYYY O⁠_⁠o!!!!

(this is probably one of my weirdest fixation of all ngl º⁠ ⁠_⁠ ⁠º)

[cellarspider]

6/30 The road to hell

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⛬

We return to the movie equivalent of an incompletely-assembled Ikea PAX / BERGSBO wardrobe surrounded by chips of particle board and eight thousand extra screws, Prometheus.

If that analogy made sense to anybody, congratulations! You too are succumbing to The Madness.

Content warnings for terrible archaeology, terrible chemistry, and blunt force trauma to the audience with a piece of exposition.

Increasingly extensive alt-text ramblings include the logistics of securing items in moving craft, linguistics, atmospheric science, colorblind-friendly diagram design, swearing about orology, and cursing the crew for their fictional crimes against archaeology.

Many on Tumblr are familiar with Chekhov’s Gun, a piece of writing advice that calls for economy of storytelling: if you mention a loaded gun in your story, it should go off at some point. Sergius Shchukin phrased it this way: “Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first act that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third act it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." 

So Prometheus takes the rifle down off the wall and smashes you over the head with it, just to make sure you saw it.

CH: “Wow, nice place.” D: “It's actually a separate module with its own self-contained life support. Air, food. Anything Miss Vickers would need to survive a hostile environment.” CH: “Okay, so she lives on a lifeboat.” MV: “Yes. I do. I like to minimize risk.”

Gee. I wonder if Vickers’ lifeboat living quarters will become relevant later.

Then, Chekhov’s rifle hits us with its next flurry of blows.

“Charlie, look. It's a Pauling Med-Pod. They only made a dozen of these.”

Gee. I wonder if the Pauling Med-Pod–-yes of course it’s going to be relevant later

You want a movie where a literal Chekhov’s gun gets fired off, along with Chekov’s crossword puzzle, Chekov’s ketchup packet, Chekhov’s swan, and Chekhov’s farmer’s mum, Chekhov’s everything all weaving back together again in a beautiful symphony of hilarious violence? Watch Hot Fuzz! Do it! Just watch Hot Fuzz! Not Prometheus!

I have said it before and I say it now, this movie is TERRIBLE at providing the audience with plot-relevant information. It hits you like head trauma. It bellows at you like Hans Zimmer has his entire orchestra hiding behind your chair, ready to let loose with an Inception Noise.

Vickers is here to make David mix drinks and to be a Corpo Ice Queen who demands that the team not make any direct contact with any alien life they find while they’re here. She doesn’t think they will, though. She thinks Weyland was delusional. But she’s the one in charge of the company money, so she’s the boss here.

Which begs the question of why she’s here at all, rather than back on Earth. This is actually a plot point, but because it’s not explicitly called out like the LIFEBOAT with the PAULING MED-POD, and everyone else has acted like loons anyway, it does not stand out. It just seems like another dollop of irrational behavior in the unpalatable stew of these characters.

However, Vicker’s demand that no direct contact be made? Very sensible! In fact, this was the point in the movie where I distinctly remember thinking in the theater “wait, they don’t have a first contact protocol already?” 

Like, Vickers doesn’t think that anything’s going to happen, but there’s enough of a chance that she’s giving orders not to engage. The sum total of their formal first contact attempt was yeeting a cultural message packet at the planet while in-transit to see if they got any response. The only one who appears to have been preparing was David–he basically spent the last two years learning comparative linguistics, with the aim of acting as a translator, should they get that far. That’s a sound choice, though its actual implementation is going to leave me incensed later.

But that still doesn’t answer the question of what they’re planning to do. Weyland certainly believed that they were going to meet aliens here. He’s arrogant enough to have demanded this whole project happen, and he didn’t have anything to say about what should be said if they made contact without him? 

This is, possibly, a plot point. But everything else that happens around this in the next five minutes is pure, howling madness.

Because they’re immediately descending into the atmosphere of this alien world.

This is too fast. In Alien, they landed on-planet to check out a possible distress signal, and it was a goddamn pain in their collective ass that they were only doing out of legal responsibility. In Aliens, they were a bunch of hopped-up marines ready to go shoot bugs. 

These are, again, scientists. The team leads are archaeologists! Aerial archaeology is a thriving field today that’s only going to get more useful as technology improves! There is no sense that they’ve done any scans, they don’t even know what the atmosphere is made out of, something we, right now, can already determine about exoplanets. Really! We can! 

We are explicitly told, in fact, that all this is happening within the same day as everyone waking up. The events of this movie appear to happen over two days, maybe three at the max.

And now, Spider yells at cloud. Or rather, the atmosphere.

The movie claims that if you spend two minutes on the surface without an oxygen supply, you’re dead. Why? Atmospheric CO₂ is over 3%.

Now, 3% CO₂ is not a fun time, and you will definitely experience weird physical and cognitive effects. But if you hang out in 3-5% CO₂, you’re going to be pretty okay for anywhere from four hours to over a month. 

What I've heard consistently is speculation that the movie meant carbon monoxide levels at 3%, which, yeah, that'll kill ya. In fact 2-3 breaths of 1.28% CO makes people pass out and die within under three minutes. 0.01% CO is enough to result in headaches and memory problems, as one redditor demonstrated to the internet back in 2015. 

But no. For whatever reason, the movie script says “CO₂”. Consistently.

And now, we get to the bit that had me screeching under my breath in the theater. Most people who saw Prometheus lost their sympathy for the human characters about 5-20 minutes after this point. I was ahead of the curve. I hated these characters before it was cool. Because they see a structure. They see what looks like roads.

Holloway, who I remind you all, claims to be an archaeologist, demands they set the ship down on one of those roads.

Let me tell you all a story. A few years before this movie first blighted me, I signed up for an archaeological field course. The university offering it didn’t have a dig permit lined up for the year I went, but their campus was in an area that had seen continuous human habitation for at least 15,000 years. They scouted out a bit of lawn, we cut the turf, and started digging. 

A week or two into the dig, we realized that the top layers were probably modern infill, dirt that had been trucked in from somewhere and completely jumbled. We started hacking away at it with mattocks to get down to the actual archaeology, which was delayed by a day or two when I struck 1940s asphalt. 

Like, literally struck it with my mattock. It felt like biting down on aluminum foil, but spread out over my hands to my shoulders. The professors rented a small mechanical digger to tear up the old car park, and also some of the plywood on the sides of our trench by accident. I have never seen a bunch of professors so gleeful about being turned loose on heavy machinery.

But finally, we got to what we were there for. A bunch of 13th century houses, and a Roman road.

I remember we made sure there was photo documentation that captured every fucking pebble on the medieval surface of that road, before we dug in. We were encouraged to sketch it, too. We took precise GPS coordinates of where the edge of the road started. We sifted through the road surface as we dug it up, finding dozens of tiny artifacts, because centuries of people had tossed little bits of trash onto the road, lost things out of their pockets and pouches, all the random little events that might happen on a stretch of road two minutes' walk from the parish church. 

I remember one student found the metal tag off of a horse’s bridle, that would’ve been used to identify it with its owner’s mark. Another found an 800 year old silver coin, tarnished on one side and perfectly, shiningly pristine on the other. It was beautiful.

And over and over, we were told: “A road is a find.” A road itself is history. A road is a place shaped by human hands, where humans have lived their lives. We can learn a lot from roads.

And that was what I was whispering at the screen in the theater, increasingly incensed. “A road is a find. A road is a find. A road is a find!!”

I was ready to reach through the screen and strangle that motherfucker Holloway from this moment on. The movie had lost me fully. Not because of this moment in isolation–if the rest of it had been consistently competent, I would have sighed and done my best to hold onto suspension of disbelief. But the drip feed of problem after problem had taken me from open and interested in the movie to actively spiteful in about 30 minutes or less.

So, fine. The movie seemed determined to make me watch a bunch of unprepared morons stumble to their deaths. Usually, this sort of movie doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t find much use for the kind of movie where you’re supposed to feel antipathy toward the main cast, as a free pass to watch them suffer. It’s why I still haven’t seen Alien Covenant. But I had been unexpectedly ambushed by just such a movie, and I was rooting for whatever horrors awaited them.

⛬

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⛬

Citations for alt text rambling:

1. https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/bane-vs-pink-guy--2

2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_bronze_inscriptions 

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumulonimbus_incus 

4. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%A1rm%C3%A1n_line

5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Everest

6. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olympus_Mons

[ivystoryweaver]

Decadent chapter 12

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Summary: Miguel loves you, but will he actually feed and accept himself the way you do?

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Content: nsfw, 18+ , cursing, blood consumption, scratching, wounds, dry humping, hand job, p in v, self-worth probs, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

“You love me?” He whispered, his eyes wide as his lungs tripped over the next few breaths he attempted to take.

“Yes,” you tearfully laughed out. “Yes, isn’t it obvious? I love you so much.”

Miguel’s eyes glistened as he touched his forehead to yours. “I wasn’t sure. I could only hope that this was more than just…” Pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth, he stopped his own rambling. “I love you too.”

This was it.

Miguel had actually agreed to feed.

You were alone with him, in the lab. You had drawn blood from your own arm (not in his presence) and Miguel was going to drink it, still warm and fresh.

He didn't want you to be hurt or cut, so this was what he was willing to try. And he worried that if he was near you while the blood was being drawn, that the temptation to....well - attack you? Might present itself.

As soon as you handed him the container of blood, his eyes flashed bright red and he jerked it out of your grasp.

"Do you have to watch me do this?" He asked, his lips pulling into a pout.

"Clinically, yes - "

You didn't need to say more before he drank the whole thing in one greedy gulp. When he was done, he set the container down and licked his lips clean, his hungry eyes finding yours.

"I know it's probably not enough, but we can do it again," you explained to him, stepping closer to examine him. "How are you feeling?"

"No, stay back," he warned, pushing off the stool he'd been resting on. Holding his hands out warningly, he put several feet of distance between the two of you. "That was just enough to make things better and worse. I'm really hungry right now, mi corazón. You should probably go."

"Let me draw some more blood, okay?" You proposed. "Just...wait in your office and I'll do it here and then - "

"No, not yet. I don't want to take too much too fast."

"It's ok, I only took about 250 cc's. I can still do about another 300. Then in a few days, I can do more," you explained. "And if we need to find another source, then that's what we'll do. We have to get you better."

He listened to you. He actually listened. You drew more blood and presented it to him. It was the maximum amount you should take from yourself for probably the next 3 days. Ish.

So you and Miguel formed a plan. He was going to take a few days off and try to stay home to see how he felt. The blood should make him stronger, but also hungrier, at least for now. He had to stay off the streets to keep from hurting anyone, and he was absolutely adamant about not seeing you - not until it was safe for you to draw more blood.

In the meantime, he would keep you updated constantly, in a clinical way. You would also be worried about him personally, obviously. You would try to figure out alternative sources of blood that could be fresh for him, without it being too much from you, and without Miguel having to break any more of his moral code than he already had.

The idea was to get him well enough to where he could go back to a safer feeding schedule, while continuing to look for a cure.

"I can't believe we have to spend three days apart," you pouted, safely keeping your distance in Miguel's office doorway while he grabbed some things from his desk before leaving early for the day.

"Lo siento, mi hermosa angel de la guardia." He smiled softly at you. "Safer this way."

"I know, but can't I at least kiss you before you go?"

He shook his head. "I gotta go, baby. I can't be here right now. I don't trust myself."

Definitely not worth an argument at this point. Not after he'd finally fed.

Day 1:

You analyzed and poured over data. You worked through lunch. Miguel video called you a few times to answer questions. Each call ended with him rattling off something lovely in Spanish.

You were so exhausted by the time you got home that you fell asleep in your work clothes.

Day 2:

You woke up to find Miguel had texted you late last night. It simply said,

'Miss you. Love you.'

You could squeal, you were so ecstatic.

You called him immediately.

Then you got to work, which included another call and a lot of questions about how he was feeling.

Hungry. He was hungry. But stronger.

You advised him to try to drink blood bags. He complied. Finally he seemed to be listening to your professional advice.

You saw Jackson at lunch. He wondered where you disappeared to at the gala and said he'd missed seeing you at work.

"I only skipped lunch one day, Mr. Watson," you playfully reminded him.

He told you he was going to make it his mission to make you eat lunch every day, even if he had to track you down himself. You appreciated the sentiment. Should you tell him you were with Miguel now?

Were you with Miguel now?

After all, you did sleep together again, he'd stayed at your house a few times recently, you declared your love for each other. Wasn't that 'together' behavior?

Probably should clarify...

Day 3:

Miguel was feeling better. The blood bags weren't ideal, but they were helping. He didn't need to feed every day. Back when you first met him, he could go days and days without blood, but that was on a more...well-nourished schedule.

He asked to see you...tomorrow.

Day 4:

You arrived at Miguel's house ready to pounce, absolutely desperate to see him. He did not disappoint you.

As soon as you made it off the elevator, his lips curled into a knowing smile.

"I missed you so much," you breathed as he lifted you up into his strong arms, causing your feet to dangle off the floor.

"Si, mi corazón," he agreed, sealing his lips to yours. The heat of his tongue made you weak as his hands worked their way over your body.

Sinking your fingers into his tousled hair, you practically climbed him, sucking on his lip, which elicited a groan of approval from him.

His hands traced down the curve of your back to scoop you up, hoisting your legs around his waist. You didn't make it far because he shoved you up against the nearest wall.

You gasped out as his erection pressed hard against your clothed core - memories of what happened up against the gala wall floating through your memory.

"Need you," he murmured against your mouth, the heat of his breath sending chills down your entire body. He gripped your hips, thrusting against your heat, his lips trailing across your jaw.

Your breathing quickened into shallow panting as the tip of his fangs scraped lightly against your throat. His tight grip on your hips almost hurt, but the way he pulled you roughly against his cock made you shake with anticipation and desire.

The lace of your panties rubbed across your clit roughly, creating a delicious friction as he demandingly dragged you back and forth while sucking a bruise into the skin of your neck.

"Miguel...yes," you panted, rocking your hips in time with his.

You felt his lips curl into a smile. "Come for me like this," he lowly growled into your ear. "Don't even have to touch you."

He felt so good. The tip of his thick cock strained against the thin joggers he wore, moistening the soft fabric as he rubbed you just the way you liked.

"Faster," you whined, twisting your fingers through his waves and yanking hard. Your hips ached from how hard his own were pinning you to the wall.

"Yes, fuck...yes," you moaned, your eyes fluttering closed as he found that perfect rhythm - the friction against your clit causing heat to flare out all over your body. You gasped for air as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering and going limp in his arms.

Miguel held you in his securely against the wall as you came back to yourself, touching his forehead to yours.

"You missed me?" He whispered, a knowing smile curling his lips. His fangs adorably poked out of his little smirk.

"Every second," you breathed, using your grip on his neck to pull his mouth back to yours.

You and Miguel decided to order dinner, so you could spend all your time...well, together, rather than cooking and cleaning up the kitchen.

Miguel did, however, make his signature margaritas.

You offered to slice some limes, which was probably the absolutely stupidest offer you could have made to your boyfriend - a blood drinker.

Unfortunately, you sliced your finger instead of the lime.

Miguel immediately halted salting the rims of your glasses. His crimson eyes shot open as his chest heaved. It took him a moment to get his bearings since he couldn't really think very clearly. Only he didn't get his bearings.

"Shit, shit," you hissed, dashing to the sink to run your dripping finger under the faucet's flow.

Too late - he came barreling at you, fangs and talons bared and eyes wild and glowing.

"Miguel, I-I'm sorry - "

He jerked your hand to his mouth, wrapping his lips around your finger and sucking vigorously. It stung a bit, but you supposed there was no real harm in him having a little blood. It wasn't as if he wounded you to get it, so he wouldn't have to feel guilty. And he had been starving for weeks, after all.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad for him to drink some of your fresh blood -

"Ow!" You gasped as his fang tore your flesh, deepening the wound on your finger slightly. Damn, that might need stitches.

He was unbothered and oblivious to your hiss of pain, sucking your finger relentlessly. He roughly grabbed your opposite hand, pushing your fingers between his legs to show you how hard he was. After all, it was you who had a mindblowing orgasm in the hallway. Now he wanted some relief.

Your finger really fucking hurt, but you honestly didn't want to discourage him feeding. And the paralytic hadn't kicked in yet because he hadn't exactly bit down - his fang had scraped you. So you slid your hand into the waistband of his pants and wrapped your fingers around his aching, hard cock, wishing and hoping things could be like they once were - with him feeding and fucking and using you.

He groaned appreciatively as you stroked him, using your fingernails to faintly tickle the base of him before giving him a few firm tugs. He still held your sliced finger in his mouth, his eyes closed in ecstasy as you roughly jerked him faster and faster.

It occurred to you that your finger wasn't burning with the initial searing pain you'd felt. In fact, if felt a little numb. Then you realized you were starting to feel spaced out. Your movements slowed, despite Miguel desperately attempting to thrust into your fist.

Your body started to go limp as the venom set in, and it was only when you started to collapse that he finally snapped out of his feeding frenzy.

He caught you in his arms, of course. He would never let you fall. But as he scooped you up, you could see the panic in his wild, red eyes. His lips were covered in your blood - a sight you not-so-secretly loved, despite the horror it made him feel.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he brokenly whispered, carrying you to the living room to lay your paralyzed body down on the sofa. He didn't seem to care that your blood was dripping all over his expensive flooring and furniture.

He went into triage mode, gathering a towel which he wrapped snuggly around your hand to stop the bleeding. You could see that he was horrified, but there was nothing you could do in this state. By the time the effects of the venom wore off, he would probably have completely panicked.

But he surprised you by holding the towel around your hand and waiting. He didn't try to clean up his face or make a bunch of apologizes. He just waited for you to return to your normal self, while he stopped the bleeding.

Your eyes lazily blinked a few times as you regained feeling in your extremities. Your finger hurt, but it was nothing compared to the puncture wounds and scrapes that used to litter your body when he would fuck you and use you like a toy.

He didn't say anything but you could see he was clearly distressed. You started to sit up, wondering how ruined this night likely was.

He assisted your efforts, swallowing hard as his gaze found yours. Your eyes flickered down to his crotch and then you realized he was still hard. The look in his eyes was desire and confusion regarding what to do about it.

He had knelt on the floor beside the sofa as he helped you, but now, he eased to sit down beside you. Holding his gaze, you dropped the towel from your bloody finger and climbed across his lap.

"It's your day to feed anyway," you softly purred, rolling your hips, pushing your core against his clothed cock. He groaned as his eyes fluttered closed.

Standing on your knees, you pushed down your pants along with your lace thong, standing for a moment to get them off your feet. You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers to the apex of your legs, forcing him to drag his fingertips through your soaked folds.

"I want this as much as you do," you quietly explained. "So don't you fucking dare pull away from me."

He sucked in a breath, seeming to teeter on the precipice of either giving in to this or completely shutting down.

You didn't wait, using your good hand to pull at the waistband of his joggers. "Take these off," you ordered, hastily working with him. "And this," you added, yanking up the hem of his soft t-shirt.

He stared at you, bewildered for a moment, but you encouraged him by wrapping your hand around his cock. Standing on your knees, straddling him, you guided his tip through your pussy lips, back and forth, tempting him.

"Do you want this or not?" You whispered, lowering yourself down onto his cock, hissing at the perfect stretch you felt as his heavy length filled you.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his hands squeezed into fists by his sides as he struggled not to lose any control he had left.

"Because I love fucking you," you breathed against his mouth, pushing up on your knees before dropping back down hard, "And feeding you. But you won't let me."

He absently nodded, only half registering what you were saying - so focused on needing to feel more of you. It was a lot to take in - the fresh blood he could still smell from your cut finger - the way you were seducing him. He couldn't stop this even if he wanted to. Talons extended, he tore through your shirt and bra like tissue paper, before scratching lightly up the curves of your body.

You moaned at the sting, but nothing prepared you for the feeling of him scraping just above your nipple, drawing a few droplets of blood. Using his tongue he laved your hardened peak, spreading red warmth around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

Oh fuck - that felt good. His talons didn't secrete venom. He was drinking from you without paralyzing you. Just the notion of it had you fucking yourself down on him at a furious pace, rolling your hips and squeezing your cunt around him with each thrust.

"Don't stop," you begged him, threading your fingers through the hair on the top of his head, forcing his mouth to stay on your breast. But he shrugged you off before dragging his index finger over your other soft mound, just enough to sprinkle your beautiful skin with fresh red drops of what he craved.

The next few moments were a frenzy of furious thrusting. You came suddenly as soon as he took your nipple back into his mouth. Miguel had wanted to suck you like this for so long and once he felt your cunt fluttering around his cock, he completely lost it, emptying himself deep inside you as your cries of ecstasy echoed off the vaulted ceilings.

He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your essense. Retracting his talons, he ran his hands over the curve of your back, pulling you against his chest, loving the feel of your breasts mashed against him. Your bodies remained joined as your harsh pants started to quiet.

Then he completely surprised you, saying, "I really needed that."

Easing back, you locked your wrists behind his neck and granted him a soft smile. "Yeah...you did. So did I."

He smirked disbelievingly. "I don't know if I understand that, mi vida."

"Understand what?"

He let out a sigh, hoping to explain without upsetting you. "How you could need...this. Me. And...what I just did to you."

Before you could really answer him, the food delivery arrived. So you excused yourself to the restroom to clean up, wash up, get dressed and bandage your finger. Miguel had shredded half your outfit, so you wandered up to his bedroom to find a t-shirt, which fell down your legs to almost knee level.

Miguel joined you with the delicious food delivery, smiling warmly at the sight of you, comfortable in his room, in his clothes.

"Thought we could just eat in here," he nonchalantly informed, "since we'll probably end up here the rest of the night anyway."

"Miguel O'Hara," you playfully scolded, secretly thrilled that he seemed to be okay with what happened downstairs. This would honestly be breaking new ground for the two of you - if he could drink your blood - wound you, even, and not push you away.

He winked at you before setting up the food on a small table in the corner of his expansive bedroom. As you started to eat, his eyes drifted down to your bandaged hand.

"I'm sorry," he softly uttered, setting down his fork. "Does it hurt a lot?"

You reached across the table with your opposite hand to squeeze his wrist. "I'm okay. It was just a scrape and it was my fault it happened anyway."

Slowly nodding, he joined his hand with yours, interlacing your fingers. You took this as a good sign.

"Miguel...don't shut me out. I can't survive it. You can't take your guilt out on me."

He frowned. "I'm not trying to do that. But I can still feel sorry that you're hurt. What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing," you passionately returned, squeezing his fingers. "I'm just...I feel like I just got you back and I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," he quickly refuted, his dark eyebrows shifting with concern. "You're never going to lose me unless you leave me. I love you."

Your heart did somersaults inside your chest as your lips parted with a sigh of relief. "I love you too. I love you so much, and I want you to see yourself the way I see you."

His crimson eyes widened with a bit of curious confusion. "How's that, mi corazón?"

Easing out of your chair, you circled around the table and knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in your own.

"You're perfect exactly the way you are." You could already see him getting ready to protest, but he had met his match when it came to stubbornness. "Don't argue with me, Miguel. I love you exactly how you are. That's the truth."

He swallowed hard, averting his eyes, but he didn't let go of your hands.

"I'll help you with whatever cure you want," you promised him. "I'll support you, but there is nothing wrong with you in my eyes."

Before you could profess anything further, he pulled you by the arms to sit in his lap.

"Come here," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against your throat before kissing your cheek tenderly.

"Thank you," he breathed on your ear. "You really are my guardian angel. It's just hard for me to not feel like a monster around someone like you."

"You're not," you insisted, brushing his unruly waves out of his eyes as your gaze found his. "Nothing is wrong with the things we do to each other, as long as we're both okay with it. I love it," you explained. "But if you don't, I'll respect that."

One of his fangs pulled at his bottom lip as he contemplated your words. "You're sure? You're okay with...what we just did - when I cut you and..."

"And scratched me and sucked me and drank my blood?" You shrugged one shoulder, easing your thighs across his lap. "I can see how it sounds when you say it out loud," you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Maybe it's you who needs to accept the monster in me."

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@twiggoblin @toobular

@lilacspider @imonmykneessir @saints-and-sinners @steven-grants-world @aquaarietes

[omarfor-orchestra]

non sono un esperto di città medievali, però mi sembra che più che dare a gaius la cittadinanza, uther lo abbia reso un "uomo libero"

cioè da quel che so merlin e gwen, tom, gaius ecc. sono tutti giusto un passetto sopra gli schiavi della gleba, infatti nel quarto episodio uther praticamente regala merlin all'altro re e lo può fare senza problemi, sono praticamente una proprietà

rendendo gaius un "freeman of Camelot" uther gli ha praticamente detto "puoi continuare a fare esattamente quello che hai sempre fatto, schiavo come prima, ma ti diamo questa bella coccarda che teoricamente ti dà più diritti"

il re continua ad avere potere di vita o di morte un po' su tutti, ma penso che anche a livello di processo un uomo libero (es. un cavaliere) ha più garanzie. cioè spesso uther (ma anche arthur) prende gente e sbatte in galera senza processo così senza senso. con un cavaliere non sarebbe così automatico e ci sarebbe probabilmente gente che si incazza (in Inghilterra poi ce l'hanno particolarmente con sta storia dell'habeas corpus e c'hanno anche ragione, però quello è stato inventato ben dopo l'epoca arturiana)

wikipedia dice che in realtà è più un titolo legato alla proprietà della terra, quindi mi sembra che gaius da "occupante" della sua stanzetta sia diventato conduttore d'affitto

okay scusa il rambling hahahaha ma ci avevo pensato anch'io vedendo quell'episodio e ho studiato un po' di diritto medievale inglese quindi questi sono i puntini che il mio bacato cervello è riuscito a connettere

Io ti ringrazio molto anon amo scoprire queste cose

[inkykeiji]

What is your Alastor’s goal? Like if the reader became so broken by him would he throw them out? Is he hoping for a balance of obedience as well as disobedience? We all know he gets bored very quickly so I’m wondering what’s your thoughts on this? Where is that fine line between entertaining to boring?

ah okay so!!! beware, i kinda rambled on beneath the read more ahahaha (*ﾉωﾉ)ᵉᵉᵏ

well if i’m going to be completely honest with you, he doesn’t necessarily have an overarching ‘goal’ since i’ve only been writing little fragments of their lives together/their relationship. he has a goal in each piece, obv, and they’re all very simple of course, because more than anything i write for myself and to explore a character i really love in silly lil scenarios my mind creates ehehe. but if i had to give him a larger goal that encompasses all of the fragments, it would be companionship.

as i mentioned in this ask, he’s drawn to reader because of her extreme devotion to him without the need of a contract; how she’s willing to do anything for him, to quite literally be his obedient little pet and always stares up at him with stars of worship in her eyes, all on her own. it’s pure, it’s real, and he loves that. but just because she is unwaveringly subservient, doesn’t mean she is incompetent or unable to do things on her own + be independent. she won’t cling to him unless he wants it.

he does give her tasks to do and hobbies to take up (certain books to read, certain activities to do etc.) because his pet needs to be well-read + intelligent and all of that. she has her own errands + duties to attend to as well, so she’s more than a mindless little doll (because you’re right, he would get bored of that SO fast); it’s more just that she has to be (and is) willing to drop everything for alastor the moment he wants her to—and he is absolutely drunk off of the potent power this grants him. there are an infinite amount of scenarios he can throw her into in order to play with this extreme level of ownership and control, which means he can always find a way to keep things interesting, fresh, and fun.

i write alastor as an extreme sadist and as someone who is only aroused and able to get off on serious sadism, right? her pain (physical, mental, emotional; any kind) is what ‘turns him on’. additionally, we know that alastor is extremely shady and manipulative, and has a bit of a sick, twisted ‘playful’ side to him—with means he isn’t above playing dirty, provoking reader into misbehaving or tricking her into breaking a rule, solely so he has an excuse to punish her or otherwise hurt her. he doesn’t need an excuse, obviously, he knows she’ll ultimately let him do whatever the fuck he wants to her, but it’s more fun when she unintentionally breaks a rule, because there’s an extra layer of psychological pain there; shame and guilt for disobeying her master.

he knows she loves it too, though; she loves playing that foul little game just as much as he does, and she isn’t entirely meek either; she will speak back to him on occasion, will beg him to stop or let some snarky little remark slip (she almost does this in the piece about alastor dressing you in white) or shove at him etc, but it’s really just this messed up little cat-and-mouse routine that comes with the 100% guarantee that she’ll never escape or leave him, no matter what he puts her through or how much she pretends to push back. i mean, she’d have to have some sort of streak of vile wickedness running through her blood to be as insanely attracted to him as she is.

so, really, that’s where the line between obedience and disobedience is drawn; she may be playfully bratty back, but never to the point of actual disrespect, and never for real. she might whine a bit about him intentionally tricking her into breaking rules etc, but she’ll also play up that aspect of guilt etc because she knows he gets off on it, and she gets off on serving + pleasing him.

wHEW okay, hopefully this answers ur questions!!! thanks for taking an interest in my iteration of alastor, that’s really cool and it makes me feel so aaaah happy n warm hehehe <33

[rook-writes]

we keep saying we're gonna use this blog more, and then we keep not lmao

anyways in the last week we've managed to write about 24,000 words and i am in hell (/lh)

-q

[candymagnolia]

Scrunchy Chunks!!

(well at least my version of what he will probably look like)

"Ska-rew YOU, Samsonite!" :D

I actually want to see someone else make their own version of Scrunchy Chunks, I'm actually quite curious! (⁠^⁠^⁠)

[corrodedcorpses]

This is so wrong. Part iii.

Pairing: Steve x Eddie x reader / Steddie x reader

Summary: You and Eddie haven’t talked to Steve in two weeks since you’d both found him in a compromising position. Steve has been having trouble in many aspects of his life since then and decided one night that enough is enough, he has to see you both.

Part 1 & Part 2 here but could probably be read by itself. Part 4

Warnings: Smut (18+), jerking off, voyeurism, language, perv! Steve, p in v sex, cream pie sorta.

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: Part 3 of “This is so wrong”! I can’t believe people actually enjoyed the first two parts, thank you everyone so much. This part is a little shorter as I’m pretty slammed with work and stuff but I’m definitely going to make a 4th part to wrap it all up! Hope you enjoy and as always, any feedback or thoughts are greatly appreciated!

It had been two weeks since you and Eddie caught Steve jerking off to the thought of you two. Two weeks since he’s seen you both. Two weeks of feeling sorry for himself… Two weeks since he’s gotten off.

Steve has been filled with shame and thoroughly embarrassed since the whole ordeal two weeks ago. He’s also upset that neither of you have contacted him since - but that’s not entirely your or Eddie’s fault. Steve hasn’t really left the house since… and he’s been avoiding picking up the phone… and has been turning down plans with all your mutual friends… but still, he misses you both so much.

He’s also been having trouble in other areas… He hasn’t been able to make himself cum since. Every time he thinks of that afternoon (which is a lot) he gets so turned on. The memories of the sounds you and Eddie made, the scent of you and the feeling of you chasing your release against his face, the feeling of Eddie’s hands and rings finally on him, the feeling of his dick stuffing the back of your throat, how easily he had settled into being submissive for Eddie and how much he’d liked it - It has him getting hard over and over again.

But, every time he goes to jerk off he just can’t seem to finish. His hand just isn’t you or Eddie. The memories only seeming to remind him of how much he misses you both.

It’s now 8pm on Friday night. He’s already turned down plans with Robin, much to her dismay, as she whined about hardly seeing him outside of work recently and even at work, he’s been distant. He just gave her some excuse about thinking he’s getting sick, which just started a whole new line of rambling. Saying something about how there’s no way she’d see him until he’s gone to the doctor and is fully over whatever it is he’s fighting.

To be honest, he’d kind of zoned out after that, just wishing the call would end so he could go back to wallowing in his own self-pity.

And so here he was, tightly tugging his raw cock as it starts to go soft for what seems like the thousandth time already since he started an hour and a half ago. He groans out a broken sob in anger, stopping his motions all together. He brings his other hand up to rub at his face, growing ever frustrated.

He’s about to call it quits and find something else, like a movie, to distract him when he decides enough is enough. He calls Robin back, hoping she decided to have a quiet night in if he wasn’t available. He’s in luck when she answers.

“Robin, hey, It’s Steve. I had kind of a weird questi-“ Steve starts to say but is cut off.

“Steve!” Robin interrupts. “I was just thinking of you actually and was maybe going to give you a call. I was thinking about the symptoms you’ve been having lately, and I have a couple of theories of what might be wrong with you. I already know you’ve been practically, constantly tired but what other specific symptoms have you had?”

Steve rolls his eyes at her ramblings, secretly loving that she’s obviously concerned.

“Robin, I don’t have time for this,” Steve tries to not sound desperate, “I’m kind of in a rush, I just need you to tell me: Do you know what y/n and Eddie are doing tonight?”

“What? y/n and Eddie?” Robin asks, “Um, I think they’re just hanging out at Eddie’s trailer, I asked them if they wanted to hang out before, but they said they were busy, and I didn’t really want to ask for any more details. Anyway, as I was saying, I really think you could have a mix of- “

“Awesome, thanks robin!” Steve says hanging up the phone. He feels bad, he really does, and he knows that Robin was just being nice, but he can’t find it in himself to wait another second. If you and Eddie weren’t going to come and see him, he would just go and see both of you.

*****

Steve gets to Eddie’s trailer in record time. He hardly focused the whole drive over; all he knew is he had to see you. Now pulling up at Eddie’s trailer, however, he wished he’d thought up some sort of a plan. He can see Eddie’s van parked out front, so he knows at least one of you are here.

He hesitates for a second before hopping out of the car. Fuck it, he thinks. He can’t embarrass himself more than he already has. He can hear Eddie’s music blaring from outside the trailer. He decides to try the front door as he’s pretty sure Eddie wouldn’t be able to hear him knocking over the music anyway. He’s delighted to find it unlocked.

However, as soon as he steps inside, he can hear it. The sounds of moans filling the trailer, coming from the only room down the hall. He quickly closes the door behind him, wanting to make sure the whole trailer park doesn’t hear you two.

He slowly makes his way down the hall. He was about to knock and call out to you both, he really was but through the crack in Eddie’s bedroom door he sees the obscene image of you both.

Eddie was behind you, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other tangled in your hair, holding your head down into the mattress as he roughly pounded into you. You had your ass in the air, moving to meet each of his thrust, both hands gripping the fabric to steady yourself as Eddie set a harsh pace.

Steve could hear your muffled moans and random string of obscenities that left your mouth, sounding thoroughly blissed out and cock drunk. Eddie sounded just as gone as you, grunting and moaning with each thrust as he fucked you into a puddle beneath him.

Luckily for Steve your head was down the end of the bed angled to the right, away from the door. The door to the room was also covering the view that Eddie would’ve had of Steve in the mirror.

Steve can feel the tent forming in his pants at the sight, already almost rock hard. Steve can’t help himself, its like his brain shuts off completely, all rational thoughts leave him until the only thoughts he’s having are about you and all he can think about is touching himself.

I mean, it has been two weeks since he’s come.

God, apparently, I can embarrass myself further, the thinks as he slowly unzips his pants, trying to make as little noise as possible to not disturb you two. As soon as his zipper is down far enough, he quickly pushes his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free.

He sucks in a breath as the cool air hits his hard, oversensitive cock. He tightly grasps the base of it as you and Eddie let out particularly loud moans and grunts. Steve thinks Eddie must’ve hit that particularly sensitive spot inside you.

Steve licks a long stripe up his palm, wetting it before smearing it along his length. He grips himself, thrusting in time with Eddie’s thrusts.

Eddie then picks up his pace, pulling out slow and slamming into you. You practically scream each time Eddie’s dick meets deep inside of you.

Steve stuffs his left fist in his mouth, biting down to stop from moaning. This is the closest he’s been in two weeks, just from watching you both.

Eddie reaches around to your clit, rubbing tight circles on the swollen bud. “Oh, yes sweetheart, you’re clenchin’ me so good.” You scream out and jerk your hips in response.

“God, I’m gonna cum from your vice grip on my cock babe, this pretty pussy gonna cum all over me? Fuckin’ soak my dick?”

“Yes Eddie!” you practically scream, “’m so close, want you to cum Eddie please.”

Steve loved seeing you both like this. Just completely relaxed and lost in pleasure with each other, maybe even more than he loved seeing you both pleasuring him. He was so close, hand faltering as he tried to hold of his impending orgasm. It was hard though as he was so desperate to just finally cum.

“aw fuck,” Eddie blurted out suddenly, “I’m gonna cum sweetheart, gonna fill up this little pussy.”

“yes, Eddie. Wanna feel you- wanna feel you fill me up. ‘m gonna cum soon Eddie please don’t stop.”

Eddie came from your words with a grunt, Steve following shortly after with a whimper he tried his best to hide. Eddie kept up his movements, groaning at the overstimulation but determined to make you cum.

“That’s it baby,” he encouraged as he came shortly after, gushing around him as you screamed his name. “Cum around me, soak this fucking dick… Make sure you put on a good show for Stevie.”

All the blood left Steve’s face at the mention of his name. He quickly stuffed himself back in his pants and did up his zipper as you collapsed on the bed, still coming down from your high and turning your head to the left, meeting his eyes.

Eddie smoothed his hand over your hair, thumb rubbing your cheek before he hopped up, making his way over to Steve. He opened the door slightly, leaning on the frame. Steve looked down at the floor playing with his fingers, too ashamed to meet his eyes.

No way this was happening again. Steve knew now you’d both never forgive him.

Eddie reached out his hand and tilted Steve’s chin up to meet his gaze, eyes soft. “Was wondering how long it’d take you to come join us Harrington” he said mischievously, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him inside.

Tags: @sllooney@alexa-33 @vanicahgg @ourautumn86 @shortstoriesbyher @may-machin @munsongirl86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @troubleonryloth @ali-r3n @hairlesscatsarenotnaked @quinnswife86 @marsrox @cam-peggio @thefreakofhawkins86 @dominoz @aurumbelis @babyary19 @imjinxx @steddie-as-he-goes @jjulasteen @non-binary-disastrous-mess @ilovecupcakesandtea @h0n3y-dw @translatemunson @smolbasilboy

[spiritedscorpio]

Idea: bsd characters on a ferris wheel

🎡

The BSD men on a ferris wheel

Includes: Atsushi, Akutagawa, Dazai, Nikolai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Fyodor

Warning: A bit of suggestive content, typical suicide mention for Dazai's part

A/n: Thank you for the idea, sorry it took a while for me to finish this!

Atsushi:

He was actually the one to suggest that you check out the nearby amusement park since you both had time off

He's never gotten to go to one himself so he was excited to experience one for the first time with you

Everything grabs his attention and he wants to see and try everything however he's drawn to a large ferris wheel first

His face lights up at the sight of it, the bright lights illuminating the night sky

While waiting in line you talk casually, the conversation repeatedly returning to the ride

When you get to the front of the line he lets you step inside first so he's there to catch you if you trip

As it goes around he stares over the side of the cart, admiring the view of the city

The peace at the height of the ride brings a sudden feeling of gratefulness to him and he tells you how much he loves and appreciates you

You ask him if you can kiss at the top and he's initially flustered at the sudden question but agrees, gently pressing his lips to yours when you reach the top the second time

Asks to go on it again with you before leaving so you can end the night with it

Akutagawa:

You had to beg him to go to the local amusement park with you as it's a place he would never usually go to

He immediately hates how crowded the place is so he sticks close to you

You say you want to go on the ferris wheel and he has no objections since he'll be separated from people

He sits next to you in the cart and watches the ground below him with a blank face

When he looks over at you smiling at the view in front of you, he can't help but slightly smile himself

You ask him if you can kiss at the top and at first he's against the idea but agrees when you ask him a second time, leaning towards you at the top for a quick kiss

Though he tries to hide it with his coat, you see a faint shade of pink on his cheeks

You giggle at his expression, saying how cute he is and lean onto his chest, relaxing against him as you continue to go around

He tenses up at first but hesitantly puts his arm over your side

Has no problem if you ask him to go again, he secretly enjoys the closeness and seeing you so happy in general and with him

Dazai:

He was immediately down to go with you to the amusement park; anything where he gets to spend time with you and get away from his usual work setting is fine with him

If you're on the shorter side he teases you and asks if you're tall enough to go on some of the rides

He simply agrees when you ask to go on a ferris wheel, following behind you as you lead the way

Offers you his hand as you climb in before sitting across from you

As you get further and further from the ground he stares down in awe "Wouldn't this be a wonderful way to end it all?" He says casually before looking over a you, a content smile spreading across his face at your expression

You ask if you can kiss at the top and he smirks, amused by your advance however he still agrees

He leans forward, pulling you onto his lap and locking lips with you as his hands hold your waist

The kiss was passionate, gentle, and seemingly innocent until he trailed his lips down your neck

He chuckles to himself when you pull away and move to sit next to him, your face a bright shade of pink

When you get to the top again he pulls you in for another kiss, snapping a picture so he can brag to Kunikida

Nikolai:

He was actually the one who suggested you go as he wanted to experience all the festivities with you

After going around and playing the games you suggest going on a ferris wheel

When you get to the front of the line he dramatically bows, gesturing for you to get in first

He sits next to you rather than in front

As you sit next to him he starts rambling, asking you random questions while you quietly listen, responding to his questions if they happen to make any sense

You suggest kissing at the top of the ride and he instantly agrees, thinking it would be like something out of a romance movie

He leans forward, cradling your jaw with his hand as he locks lips with you, the lights in the night sky illuminating both your features perfectly

He pulls you in again, taking a picture of the two of you before taking more with you in various poses

Ranpo:

After seeing posters advertising the local amusement park with pictures of the various snacks there he asked you to go

Once he's gotten something to eat, he doesn't particularly care where you want to go and just happily follows along

You take him to a line for a ferris wheel and he's quick to complain that its moving too slowly

When you finally make it to the front he steps in first, taking the seat opposite you

He boredly stares off to the side, sucking on a lollipop

You pout at him not paying any attention to you so you join him on the other side of the cart, taking the candy out of his mouth and putting it into yours

This catches him off guard but he quicky collects himself, taking the candy back and pulling you into a kiss "I think it tastes better this way" he says with a smirk on his face before going back to eating the candy

Once you get off he drags you to another snack stand since he finished his candy on the ride

Chuuya:

He immediately agreed to go with you to the amusement park, he was willing to do nearly anything if it would make you happy

As you stand in the line for the ferris wheel you start teasing him, asking if he's sure he's tall enough for the ride

He sits next to you, putting his arm over your shoulders and you lean against him as you both enjoy the view

You look up at him and ask if you can kiss at the top causing a smirk to spread across his face at you being uncharacteristically forward

When you reach the top he lifts your chin up with his finger and locks lips with you, your tongues sweetly moving together, all the worries of real life being washed away in the moment

The smile on his face when you pull away is unbelievably genuine and earnest-- sometimes you can't believe this man is also a port mafia executive

Fyodor:

Thought the idea of going to an amusement park was childish, you were grown adults, not children

If you tell him it'll really make you happy if he goes with you, he'll go when he can spare the time

He isn't a fan of the noise and children running around but he sucks it up for you

Has no problem going on the ferris wheel with you; anything to get away from those bratty kids

He sits across from you, crossing his legs as he blankly looks off to the side

Honestly he didn't really get the appeal of the ride but he did enjoy how you looked so happy while watching the scenery

You suggest kissing at the top and he agrees, he didn't care about PDA, if people cared, screw them

He also recalled a few peoples eyes lingering too long for his liking on you so this would be a good opportunity to show them you were taken

He pulls you to his side before leaning towards you, pressing his lips to yours as his hands held onto your waist

He bit your lip as he pulled away and started trailing kisses down your neck

Only when your neck was covered in a few obvious purple marks did he pull away, pleased with both his work and your reaction

[catcze]

Hi there. Can I request Childe, Xiao, Zhongli and Albedo With a talkative and clumsy gn! S/o? Thank you so much!❤️

Have a nice day!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

!!⠀Feat : Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo (separate) x GN! Reader

!!⠀## : Fluff n cutesy stuff <3

Something quick and sorta short bc I’m facing writers block ;-; Hope you like it though, hun!

⠀ ᝰ Childe

He can be a chatterbox himself when he’s around the right people, so the two of you can hold conversations for literal hours. It never gets boring though, because both of you know how to carry conversations and keep it interesting, even if its about the most mundane topics. He’d probably find your clumsiness funny, like when you’re mid-conversation as you stroll through Liyue Harbor, and nearly trip on the stairs had Childe not caught you. He’d laugh about it, and how you’re ‘falling for him all over again.’ The only way you you refute his claims is with a joking grin and, ‘But that must mean that I’ve somehow fallen out of love with you.’ Neither of you take it seriously, though, and that’s the beauty of it. Childe’s quick reflexes and his aptitude for being able to treat minor injuries is very helpful during more serious situations though–– you couldn’t could the number of time’s he’s had to patch you up because your hand slipped, or because you hadn’t noticed something was in your way. He’s always so gentle, too, and if you wince or flinch away from the salve he applies on your cuts, he’s always sure to give you a peck on the cheek and thank you for bearing with the pain. Those nights where he spends precious minutes of his time applying the cutest bandages on your cuts and icing your bruises are the nights when, despite the endless jokes and chatter from the both of you, the love is felt rather than said.

⠀ ᝰ Xiao

It’s an unexpected pair, to be sure. At first, Xiao surprised himself when he realized he was attracted to you. He was a skilled, quiet, poised adeptus after all, and you could hardly go a couple of minutes before filling the silence, dropping something, or injuring yourself. Sometimes all three. It took some adjustment on both of your parts, but at the end of the day, Xiao doesn’t regret giving your relationship a chance. Although he is one for silence, he finds that he had grown used to your voice and how you’d enthusiastically update him about the most mundane things. There was a cat down the street down your home that allowed you to pet it? The price of fish in the market had gone up again? You nearly fell off a cliff the other day? No matter what it was, Xiao was going to hear about it. Oddly, he doesn’t mind when you talk about anything and everything under the sun, and though he tries to deny it, it’s begun to feel... strange when he’s by his lonesome on the quiet balcony of Wangshu Inn. Incomplete, even. However, your clumsiness is definitely something he could do without, for your sake. Some days are less of a heart attack–– just him being concerned when you stumble up to the usual place with a limp in your step or a bruise on your skin. Xiao isn’t familiar with how those who are not quick to heal deal with their injuries, but he tries his best to not put too much pressure when he ices your leg, or not to wrap the bandages too tight. He’s so concentrated on not messing up, it’s very sweet of him. He’ll berate you for not seeing a healer, but when you explain that you missed him and didn’t want to keep him waiting, he’ll give you a half-hearted scoff and scolding. For his sake, pretend you don’t see the blush or the way his eyes can’t meet yours.

⠀ ᝰ Zhongli

Zhongli himself can be quite the talkative person when certain topics are introduced, but he’s always so interested to hear whatever you say, too! You two probably have a system for who gets to ramble–– like you get to unload about some incredibly interesting facts about Whopperflowers and Regisvines, and Zhongli will happily listen to you and periodically ask some pretty interesting questions too, and as soon as you’re finished with your topic, then it’ll be his turn to talk about some interesting client they had at the funeral parlor, and how he had to go out to obtain some specific items for the parting rites, and somehow it’ll cycle into the differences between LIyue’s climate now and the climate hundreds of years ago. It’s actually a very enjoyable agreement, because you both learn something, and you get to hear each other talk for lengths of time. Unlike your long-winded talks, your clumsiness is a funny contradiction to his poise and grace. Sometimes, as you two walk down the cobblestone streets, he’ll be practically gliding along in such a smooth, fluid walk, while you have to be incredibly careful to not lose your balance every couple of seconds. Zhongli is sweet, though, because once he knows of your clumsiness he’ll try keep your hands intertwined, or your elbows interlocked to that it’s easy for him to catch you before you injure yourself. Being very, very old and battle-trained, he’s also very capable of catching items that you’d drop. He never complains about any of it either, merely smiling to you in such a gentle way, and saying, ‘It’s my pleasure.’

⠀ ᝰ Albedo

Aside from when he talks about his alchemy and his research findings, Albedo is typically quiet, so like Xiao, he was also somewhat surprised when he realized that he liked you. You tended to go off on tangents when you talked, after all, and sometimes not everything you said had a particular main point to it. Despite it though, Albedo could never feel as if his time was being wasted when he did nothing but listen to you and your ramblings. Your voice is oddly soothing to him, and as much as he loves his research, he’s been told before (by you, actually) that sometimes it’s good to take breaks from it. It just so happened that he considered his one-sided talks with you as those breaks. He doesn’t interrupt you usually, unless it’s to add his own opinion on something in the conversation he found interesting. If he can relate to a topic enough, he’ll even actively converse with you! Those times, you try to slow down how fast you talk, too, since you’re happy when he’s able to involve himself in the conversation, too. Something that you two definitely talked about was boundaries, though. For example, he doesn’t mind having you with him while he does his research, but he’s warned you ahead of time that he prefers to work in silence so that he can concentrate on his work. Not to mention, he acknowledge that your clumsiness could be... a bit of a safety hazard when around such dangerous objects. Albedo tried to word it nicely when he broke it to you, though, since he’s been told before that he can come off cold and blunt, but he’s genuinely trying to do better for you, and that his was important because it regarded both his work and your safety. He wouldn’t want you to clumsily injure yourself in his lab, nor does he want to potentially endanger the both of you due to his lack of focus. You understand though and keep away when he’s busy, and he always makes sure you know he’s grateful, though he’s missed you when the two of you next meet. At the end of the day, the two of you are doing your best to make your relationship work, after all.

[alwaysyouinmyheart]

Quei pantaloni non li avrebbe indossati neanche la capotondi all'inizio di come tu mi vuoi

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

McShep One Shot - Black Hole

He wasn’t entirely sure how they’d started this particular conversation. They talked about everything, but this? People they’d dated. Men and women. People they’d wanted to date. People they’d never even bothered to ask. People they wondered ‘what if?’ about. There was a thoroughness to the banter that Rodney hadn’t expected to have with John during such an out of purview conversation. As though John wasn’t just talking about it, one guy to another, but searching for clues, digging around for information. It was almost... professional, like he got when he was working hard on figuring out a high stakes situation. There were always things they talked about, their thoughts spiraling from one thing to the next till they usually didn’t remember where they’d started from. It was easy, as easy as calculus or triple integrals. Talking with Colonel John Sheppard would never get old. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t get confusing sometimes. Because Rodney had figured out, nearly the moment they met, that he was supremely lost on the elf-eared, crazy-haired, smart-mouthed, just-plain-smart man in a way he’d never experienced, and wouldn’t dare pursue. Because how could anyone like John want anyone like him? But then he’d catch glimpses of John looking at him in a way that seemed far beyond the fondness of one colleague to another. Or John would say things that were very clearly compliments, but somehow far more appreciative of the matter at hand. Or their conversations would step right into entirely too confusing territories. Like now. “You’re as bright as a black hole and twice as dense, I swear.” John said, half laughing at his own description. “If someone practically waved themselves in front of you, naked, doing the macarena with sparklers in their hands, you’d have no idea they were flirting.” “You would know, wouldn’t you. Captain Kirk. You practically have flirting down to a science. Can flirting be considered a science? More like witchcraft, if you ask me. It’s ridiculous. Why can’t two grown adults just tell each other the plain facts. Just look at each other and say, ‘Hey, I like you. You obviously like me. Let’s do this.’ But no, there always has to be some sort of show. Grandstanding to attract a mate like a peacock is not my idea of how one person should woo another.” Rodney grated out, crossing his arms as he sat back on the one short couch in John’s quarters. The Colonel was sitting across from him, relaxed in his own chair, the chess game on the short table between them entirely forgotten by now. Rodney watched as John’s brows furrowed, watched as his hands went from relaxing to fingers tapping the ends of the arms on the chair in that enticingly rhythmic way that Rodney had once or twice (or two dozen times) wondered how it would feel on his own skin. John had that fidget of sorts, or was it a tic? Usually when he was trying to come up with a game-plan, one that required getting in to a lot of trouble, or getting out of it. But as suddenly as his fingers had started up, they stopped.  Rodney darted his eyes to John’s face and.... oh. What was that look? He’d never seen that look before. Or at least, not directed toward him. That was the look John got when he wanted something. Or someone. It made Rodney forget to breathe. All the air ceased to exist. Could a person live without breathing? Of course not. That was a stupid questi- John stood up without a word, the single action completely ceasing any further ramblings in his typically packed brain. In fact, Rodney had no thoughts at all. No sarcasm. No genius. Where had his genius gone? Apparently, it was on vacation. Because right now, he couldn’t understand what was happening. Or not happening. The confusion only got worse when John sat down directly next to him, turned to face him, his knee pressing into his.  “Hey Rodney.” John said easily, a spark of humor in his eyes as he took in whatever the hell kind of expression Rodney could feel himself making. “I like you. You obviously like me. Let’s do this.” John said his words right back to him. Rodney felt himself breathe again, but only because his heart started doing an ungraceful impression of a marching band and his lungs seemed to want to get out of the way of the noise. Could John hear that?! Because that was loud. That was... wait... “Are you mocking me?!” He demanded, frustration searing through him as he dropped his arms and sat straight up, facing John who just smiled. A real, warm, affectionate smile. It was like the one he usually gave Teyla, or even Ronon. Because Rodney knew John loved them like family. But he’d never turned that smile on Rodney. Not really. He thought he’d catch ghosts of that smile. But now... now he could see it, clear as day. And somehow, it was different. It was... “Rodney. I am not mocking you.” John said almost careful, like humoring a child. “In fact,” He scooted a little closer, “I have been trying every damn thing I could think of to flirt with you. If I’d know it was as simple as just telling you I want you, then I’d have done this a whole lot sooner.” “What, really?” Rodney was well aware his eyes were wide now, his voice a little tight. “Wait, do what?” He asked, brows furrowing lightly. Okay, so... maybe he could be a little dense. Maybe all the stuff he thought he’d seen was way more than just tiny moments of maybes. John’s face softened considerably, the smile fading to something gentler. It brought entirely new qualities to his already too handsome as hell face. It was really unfair. “This.” John said simply. And then he lifted both hands, palms cupping Rodney’s cheeks, effectively holding him in place as John leaned forward and... oh, OH. Any frustration, any confusion, any wondering went out the window and into the deep, dark depths of the ocean. Because John’s lips were obviously made of silk, and they fit so damn perfectly against Rodney’s, and when their tongues met it was instantly addictive, and Rodney could smell John’s aftershave, so warm and clean, and his hands were entirely too steady... more steady than Rodney’s. Because he could feel a fine tremble in every finger, flowing through every muscle, shaking him like he was freezing. When John pulled his mouth away, which made Rodney instantly whine, he was smiling. He was searching Rodney’s eyes. That same, adoring expression on his face. But Rodney could see it now. He could see what was different about it. “Oh.” Rodney said, almost flatly, despite the fact that he was feeling anything but unimpressed. John laughed, dropping his hands but staying close and Rodney found himself smiling back. “You’re right. You really should have done this sooner, Colonel. Quite frankly, I’m disappointed in you. You’re supposed to be the flirting expert.” John half-chuckled, half-scoffed. “Shut up, Rodney.” He stated, and before Rodney could protest, John started kissing him again. And honestly, Rodney was perfectly alright with that. Because there was kissing, and there was kissing. And John was, of course, incredibly good at it. Though Rodney didn’t have the time to think about it. Because he was thinking about what kissing could lead to. And the list was endless. Somewhere along the way, Rodney decided that people didn’t need to breathe to keep living. As long as he could keep doing this with John, he could live forever...

[3nding]

È purtroppo anche una questione di tempi e mezzi: Fedez ha a disposizione quello che Ascanio Celestini e i Modena City Rambles (o Luttazzi ancora prima) non avevano: sufficienti finanze e seguito per poter fronteggiare la RAI. Tutti si concentrano sulla lega in questo momento contenti del purtroppo solo temporaneo imbarazzo/inadeguatezza che traspaiono dal tweet di salvini, ma ieri Fedez ha in realtà scoperchiato sopratutto l'arretratezza e inconsistenza di chi non ha saputo né voluto contrastare le bestialità dette e scritte in questi anni. Fossero politici di professione o giornalisti. Siamo ancora al momento in cui c'è bisogno del personaggio famoso, dell'eroe per portare avanti l'agenda politica. Che disastro.

[sp1ne-sh0t]

Finally finished Control (at least the base game) and I gotta talk about it. Spoilers ahead if, like me, you foolishly put off playing until now.

Story:

I really loved the SCP-esque vibe the whole game gave off. I'm absolutely not a fan of horror, but it just worked so well here. You're by yourself through the whole game, but you never feel that sense of isolation and loneliness that a lot of horror instills, which I think works in its favor; both because of the way Jesse talks to herself/Polaris, and because of the other characters.

And man, the characters. They all felt so wonderfully real and alive! I got giddy and excited about all the sciencey bits right along with Emily 🥰, Darling made all the videos a joy to watch and I was so sad that I never got to meet him 😢, Arish was deadpan but still very earnest in his desire to protect everyone in the FBC, Ahti was a perfect balance of helpful yet mysterious, Langston talking about how much of an asshole his cat is, and his rambling poetry had me laughing my ass off for a solid five minutes, and Jesse.

God I love Jesse. She's so funny and snarky, and her little asides and quips about what was happening were so relatable. I love her so much! ❤ Also there was definitely some chemistry between her and Emily which I will absolutely be exploring in fanfiction in the very near future. 👀

Gameplay :

There were so many interesting mechanics and mods to tweak your experience with, the enemy types were varied enough that combat didn't get stale and it made me switch up my tactics, the countermeasures letting you essentially choose what kind of reward you want made them feel a lot less fetch-questy and more like, "well I'm already gonna be in the area, might as well score some new mods while I'm at it," and as @alexandrauditore told me, the progression of the powers you unlock really does make you feel super powerful and god like.

And speaking of god like, holy shit the Ashtray Maze.

That was THE. MOST. AMAZING. video game level I've ever played, and I will be listening exclusively to Take Control for the next month.

Seriously, the way they managed to tweak and edit the song to fit how far you were in the level was a stroke of genius I've never seen before and likely never will again. I felt like an unstoppable badass. For 15 minutes, I was the happiest person on earth. I'm going to be riding that high for months.

Also, I can't help but compare it to Assassin's Creed Valhalla, since it's the last game I played before Control. I've long been a fan of the AC series, and I enjoyed Valhalla for the most part, but quite often I found myself feeling like playing was more an obligation than an enjoyable activity, like I had to slog through to finish. Never once did I feel that way with Control. Every minute was enjoyable, even the few times where I was getting my ass kicked, but that was my own fault for not planning for the encounters. Not once did I feel like I had to keep playing to finish. I wholeheartedly wanted to.

Maybe it was the length and size of the game, maybe it was the way the gameplay changed up often enough to keep things interesting without feeling like it was all over the place, but I found myself enjoying it so much more than Valhalla that I almost feel...guilty? Idk. I'm getting off track.

Visuals:

The graphics were stunning. The reality warping, physics breaking elements were all rendered so believably, the Hiss were super creepy and horribly twisted, and the mocap and face rigging for the characters was masterfully done, no hint of uncanny valley. Their facial expressions felt so real!

Also, wow, the outfit designs! 😍 I'm still unlocking them all, but I love the designs so far. The Asynchronous Suit is my favorite. I wasn't a huge fan of the color scheme, but this mod gave me exactly what I was looking for and now it's even more badass!

DLC:

So now that I'm finished with the main game, I've started on the DLC. I'm almost done with AWE, for the unique mods, and so far it's been as enjoyable as the base game. I haven't played Alan Wake, but I don't feel like I'm missing context or anything. Looking forward to starting Foundation next.

Overall, Control is a phenomenal game. Easily a 10/10 and my personal GOTY.

[kenneth-the-mudmander]

One more till the funny number Questies! I just wanted to say thank you all for following! Im so happy Im in this community. ^___^

not just cause y'all listen to my silly ramblings and theories. But because everyone is just genuinely so kind and wonderful. I love seeing your art and reading your fics. All the theories and headcanons. Its been so fun! Questies for life at this point!

🍺 Handing out beers so we can all cheers when S2 is announced. Feeling it in my bones. Less than a month away till Celebration! Positive vibes! 🍻

[rook-writes]

sometimes editing is fun because you get into a fervor, sometimes it’s like bashing your head against a brick wall because you took a two week break and through the power of not only those 14 days but also the fact you were not the headmate editing last.

//screams in amnesia//

i’m having fun you guys i swear

(though at least the benefit with writing with plural amnesia shenanigannery is that all our shit is well archived so thankfully... you can always just scroll up a bajillion years if you’re worried about continuity lmao. still a pain trying to write novels though.)

-questy