daisybelievesinaliens

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[hoshifighting]

hii !! i was wondering a svt reaction to a sensitive reader that gets wet easily :) tysm !

WARNINGS: smut, body fluids(cum), dirty talk.

seungcheol: “oh, so this is all I have to do?” and suddenly he’s whispering things in your ear just to make it worse, teasing in all ways he can remember.

jeonghan: he’d act all innocent about it, like he had no idea why you’re blushing and squeezing your thighs together. “what’s got you so worked up, sweetheart?” he’d ask, feigning obliviousness, even though he knows damn well.

joshua: would try to play it cool but can’t help the way his cheeks flush. “wow, you must really like me, huh?” he’d chuckle, feigning confidence while sneaking in closer. you can tell he’s kind of shy about it.

junhui: can’t stop grinning. thinks it’s the funniest and hottest thing he’s ever seen. “oh, really? i just look at you, and that’s it?” and suddenly, he’s got his hands all over you, acting like it’s his personal mission to see just how fast he can work you up.

hoshi: he’d go full-on theatrical, clutching his heart and gasping, “oh no, my poor baby! how can i help?” while pretending to be all concerned. but then he’d definitely leajn in for a kiss, smirking like he just found the key to your horniness.

woozi: gets all shy but absolutely cannot resist. he’d look at you with intrigue and just be like, “wait... what?” and when he realizes it’s real, he’s suddenly way more into it, floating an idea to see if he can get you even wetter. “guess i’m doing something right, hm?”

wonwoo: “so wet already?” he’d be super calm about it, but his hands would wander intentionally, as if he’s mapping out every sensitive spot you’ve got. “so you’re saying I have to work a little harder to keep you dry? challenge accepted.”

minghao: “oh, didn’t know I had that effect on you so quickly.” he’d have this smug tiny smirk, finding it adorable. he’d keep his touches feather-light, making you squirm just because he loves knowing he can make you lose control with the slightest effort.

mingyu: absolutely acts like he’s surprised, even though he’s totally aware of the effect he has on you. “poor baby... i didn’t even do anything.” he’s raising an eyebrow, acting ingenuous but totally loving how easy it is to get you going.

seokmin: he’d be a bit shy about it at first, totally flustered but fascinated. “you’re really that sensitive? hmm, what if i—” he’d ask, all wide-eyed. then he’d get more curious, fingers grazing over your pussy with the lightest touch, his face lighting up every time you shivered or gasped.

seungkwan: “fuck babe... you're dripping on me” he’d laugh, before biting his bottom lip, trying to suck all of his horniness back inside his body, a little incredulous but also secretly loving it, especially if he’s the reason. he’d tease you relentlessly but would be so into seeing what other reactions he could pull out of you.

vernon: looks at you with a little smirk, half shocked. “really? that’s all it takes?” and then he’d go quiet, probably letting his actions speak for themselves, trying to see just how quickly he can get you going.

chan: would probably tease you nonstop. “wow, you’re so easy! i can’t believe it!” he’d laugh, leaning in to get a closer look, watching the how you're dripping just from some tit-sucking. like he's on a mission to make you flustered.

[kinardsboy]

This has been sitting on my mind a lot lately but it seems extra relevant now with the way Tommy and by extension Lou has been criticized for acting “too gay” in ep 5. And while yes, I will agree Tommy acted slightly different in ep 5, it has absolutely everything to do with Lou’s incredible acting choices to play Tommy differently when he is around people he deems as “safe” which is much better explained in this amazing post here <-

All these complains are doing is just yet again exposing buddies as homophobes who are, at the end of the day. Uncomfortable with real queerness being shown infront of them. Of course we already knew this with how they react to Buck and Tommy kissing and god forbid flirting especially if it has sexual implications like the daddy kink scene.

They can’t possibly fathom their precious uwu baby Buck would be sexual with another man so they spin and twist it however they can to make it out to be, “NO! You see! Tommy started the flirting! Tommy is just an insatiable horny gay man! He only wants sex! Like most of them do!”

Which is again spewing homophobic rhetoric, who wouldve guessed thats what they immediately turn to?

I now have something probably controversial to say but oh well, im going to say it anyway.

A good many of these shippers would be deeply uncomfortable with Buddie actually becoming canon, because they would be nothing like their fanfic. They don’t want to see two men in a relationship, they want to see Eddie in a relationship with the character they project themselves onto.

There are so many examples of this but perhaps the biggest being the way Buck is made out to be the “woman” in the relationship and especially how he is made to be the “mom”

Buck and Tommy’s relationship 1st does not have any children involved so there are no gendered roles to be assigned (even though if there was.. theyd just both be a dad), they are both beefy and the same height, which is what people usually use to decide “top” and “bottom” but again since there is little physical difference between them, they cannot do this, which only adds to their uncomfortableness.

Furthermore, I would go as far to say that Buddie shippers dont actually like Buck.

A while back a shipper posted this analysis of Buddie, that essentially reduces Buck to a dog. A pet. Only to be let out of the bedroom to cook and take care of Chris, otherwise he’s meant only for Eddie’s pleasure.

Which, disgusting. But the thing that stood out most to me was how Tommy was criticized for

letting Buck be himself. For accepting and loving him flaws and all. For not trying to change anything, or “train” the bad out of him

While Eddie was the “trainer” in that scenario, that had to train the bad out of Buck in order for him to be acceptable.

And thats the funny thing isnt it? Buddie shippers have to completely warp and destroy Buck’s character to make him fit their mold of perfect partner for Eddie. They make him out to be this helpless person who can’t even tell Tommy he doesnt want to be called Evan, that needs rescuing from Tommy, that is a “mother figure” to Chris, that his “dream role” would be live in chef and maid for the diaz family..

When none of that is Buck.

Buck is a smart, independent and strong man. He has worked tirelessly on himself to know who he is and what he wants, which right now? Is with Tommy.

Bringing it back to my main point, their complaints of Tommy being more gay and Bucktommy intimacy ultimately just boil down to homophobia plain and simple, seeing real queer representation and not representation that they can specifically twist and cater to themselves through fic, headcanons or gifs, makes them uncomfortable

(could this be why so many of them ignore shows with canon m/m ships for favor of shows with fanon ones that will never actually happen? So they can make these demands for representation then shit on it as soon as they get it because its not fanfic? Its not their fetish specifically catered to them? It actually represents real life queer men who they don’t actually like?)

[occamstfs]

Halloween Bacchanal

Greek god of madness just wants to see some fun this Hallow's Eve- what better place to start than with little Theo and his satyr costume.

Happy Halloween! Here's my take on everyone's favorite Halloween TF trope: men dressed as satyrs, knights, cowboys and more become what they wear at this hedonistic Halloween party! Hope you enjoy! - Occam

Greek mythology has been an obsession of Theo’s as far back as he could remember. From what his parents say he would force them to read him myths rather than fairy tales before bed each night before going on to spend his waking hours punching way above his literacy level to indulge in every scrap of the Hellenistic pantheon he could stumble across. His dreams were filled with visions of himself aiding Hermes in his tricks and cheering on Heracles in his trials.

It’s no surprise that his time spent in this mythological world influenced his sexuality. What with all the muscular men and tales of transformation he ravenously consumed it doesn’t take a detective to follow the throughline to his present self. In fact he can clearly remember stumbling on a far too steamy illustration of a satyr right when he was about that age that clearly had some deep-rooted repercussions. Which, no surprise, brings him to his current Halloween costume.

He never thought he’d have the confidence to dress up as one but what the hell right? It’s what halloween’s for, just a spot of fun and indulgence. Once he finally decided on biting the bullet and dressing up as his root and began construction on his little costume it’s like he was possessed. Hands worked deftly sewing goat legs and sculpting horns and hooves and before he knew it he was finished before he even realized he had begun.

When the party finally arrived he found himself walking on his toes with a shocking ease, though despite the apparent expertise, his knees began to shake more with each step towards his friend’s apartment. Theo takes a deep breath before knocking on the door, sweating despite the chilly air of autumn against his bare skin. Before he does so the door creaks open and Theo’s greeted by a man he’s never seen before.

Man is almost too inconsequential to describe him. As soon as Theo’s eyes land on him he feels content to spend every waking moment for the rest of his life simply staring at this figure. Dark skin somehow glimmering in the dim light, his teeth sparkle as his lips pull into a smirk. He then turns his gaze onto, into, Theo. It’s as if he were looking through the costumed man, languishing in his past and imagining his future, taking in everything Theo has been, is, and will be. And before a moment passes he shifts to look Theo directly in the eyes, raising a hand to cup his head as if it were a glass, he rumbles out, “I love your costume dear.”

His touch is electric to Theo’s skin, or no not electric, magnetic. The fingers clutching the young man’s jawline leave him wanting more, needing more. Despite feeling frozen in the gaze of this too-ideal figure he craves more than anything to be closer. Lost in his desires, Theo flinches as his ability to ambulate returns and the figure in front of him laughs as he plays with his words, “Dear- Or should I say faun Ah Hah!” Barely a joke, but as the figure begins guffawing Theo cannot help but reciprocate. Compulsive, heaving roars of laughter fill him with ecstasy and delight as memories of raucous nights and impossible debauchery soar into his mind. More real than reality he sees himself with a cup of wine in hand standing in audience of the man now before him.

Just as soon as it began, his laughter jarringly stops and he pulls Theo close and whispers in his ear, “Call me D.” Theo gasps as he is brought closer to D’s form and the intensity of his delight only continues to heighten. Every inch of his exposed torso is suddenly burning with intense pleasure and he shivers as his neck is grazed by D’s sticky breath. In a moment briefer than Theo is able to even grasp, a thought flickers across D’s expression before he looks down at him and his eyes glow a vibrant violet. D stretches his back, doing something between a shrug and a warm-up. Theo trembles at the feeling of his powerful traps and delts moving, allowing him to feel the power they hold as the men stand in each other's grasp.

D once more grabs Theo’s chin, this time angling it up as he cranes down to meet the party-goer’s lips. It’s not quite right to say the kiss was explosive but Theo has no better way of understanding it. It’s as if he were being suffused with power, as if the man’s lips were casting a spell, as if he were drinking in a force of pure energy. Physically, his taste buds are overwhelmed with the taste of wine, richer than any he’s had the chance to experience heavy and sweet and greater than anything. 

Theo, sure that he’s dreaming, clutches the man tighter as their lips and tongues continue to dance. If D’s laughter instilled him with memories, their kiss infused something far more real in his mind. Mouth awash with wine, touch burning with pleasure from being lucky enough to touch the man’s powerful form, Theo opens his eyes and rather than seeing the world he knows he was in, he sees D tied up on a ship. Before he can make sense of his surroundings the man breaks from his bonds and the men who must be his jailers flee, hopping overboard before D waves his arms and they are no longer men. He knew the true name of D as soon as wine graced his tongue but it is further confirmed by a vision of him carrying his mother from the mouth of a cave before he sees her apotheosis. He sees grapevines sprouting from arid earth and finally sees the man, the god, bestowing Midas’ golden touch.

These are all brief passages however, pauses in between the meat of Theo’s visions. Accompanied by D, by Dionysus’ laughter, Theo sees hordes of satyrs and nymphs dancing in fields and in forests. He sees wine dripping through thick beards and staining hairy chests. Theo watches revelry devolve into madness as festivities rapidly degenerate from dances to orgies in grass fields. Shifting to an aristocratic masquerade he sees a crowd of straight-laced prim and proper nobles spin in clearly practiced circles until Dionysus, sitting at the main table, rolls his eyes and removes his mask. Calling their attention to himself as soon as they glance in his direction they are changed, filled with bestial need as they return to their partners with an animalistic fervor. 

Theo knows these visions should fill him with fear, they are far too real to be dreams. Despite that, despite himself, the scenes only excite him more. He doesn’t know why the god has chosen to show him these events, why he has chosen him, but then he realizes he doesn’t care. He just needs to experience the same. His chest quivers with struggled breaths as he feels consciousness waning as he lies in the god’s arms. With a blink he sees D’s face once more, clearly experiencing more pleasure than Theo could ever offer. His vision begins to fade and his body goes limp in the god’s arms. Theo sees some look of care in D’s eyes that is promptly wiped away with a wink. Smirking, he whispers to Theo, “Hope you lot have fun with my gift-”  The sound of the god’s laugh echoes through his empty mind, lulling him to sleep while whatever gift Dionsysus intends for the party festers within him.

When Theo awakens the party is in full swing. He remembers meeting D clearer than anything but everything between that moment and now is obscured. He feels a wet patch in his crotch and quickly crosses his legs to hide the mess made in his excitement. Seeing that he’s finally awoken, his friend Kevin, clad in a cowboy costume, walks over and greets him. “Yoo dude what’s up! Glad you could make it, you know it’s a costume party though ya? Hahah!” Theo narrows his eyes, preparing to call out his friend for being so drunk as to not see the horns on his head before he feels for them and realizes that they are no longer on his head. Indeed, glancing at his crossed legs he finds he’s fully not wearing the costume he so intently made. 

Clutching at his chest, his face burns with embarrassment as he so clearly remembers working up the confidence to come here without a shirt on and yet, here he is just wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Seeing his friend rapidly nearing tears Kevin puts his drink down and apologizes, “Hey hey buddy- Sorry I didn’t mean to press you. Do you want to go get some fresh air?” Theo sighs looking at Kevin’s outstretched hand, pouting for a second longer before reaching out to grab it. Never could he truly know what he is about to unleash when he takes it.

How could he, he was still under the impression that his little episode with Dionysus was just that, an episode. Some weird little dream that led to him cumming on a friend's couch like a loser. That is, until Kevin grasps his hand and grows glassy-eyed. Natural color briefly overtaken by a lilac haze, Theo is immediately concerned, “K- Kevin? Did you get some, um weird contacts?”

His friend shakes his head, not out of his stupor but further into it. He clears his throat and his voice is unmistakably deeper, rougher, “Now why’d I go and do somethin’ like that partner?” Theo feels the hand in his own thicken and grow calloused as tanner skin leaks up his forearm. Hair pokes out of Kevin’s wrist, rapidly thickening and growing dark as it matches pace with his increasingly sun-kissed arm. He breaks the handhold and Theo falls back in shock. Kevin stretches and whistles as biceps bulge under his costume which similarly changes texture from cheap linen to dense torn cotton that one would need in his line of work. His line of work?

“Whoooee! Maybe we’ll skip the fresh air eh Theodore? Love to see what else yew can do with those hands.” Theo stutters as the man starts rubbing his back, “I- You-” Kevin’s jaw widens and grows thick stubble as his brow hangs lower over his eyes, a piece of wheat lolls out of his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Theo pushes away and the cowboy raises a hand in surrender while adjusting his large belt buckle with the other, “‘Ey now no problem amigo, we’ll put a pin in it. Check back in after spreading the love-” He scratches his newly stubbled jaw and tug once more at his crotch as an unmistakably growing package begins to need far more room than his chapped levis could allow. Staring at a man holding a few swords with shoddily sprayed green hair, Theo almost swears he can see Kevin’s dick throb as he begins tugging at his belt.

The young man doesn’t have time to question whatever unthinkable thing he just did to Kevin as he is struck with a headache greater than anything he’s experienced before, as if something were pushing its way out of his head. Throbbing with pressure he clutches at his head and feels two bumps forming and his eyes widen in fear as he remembers the parting words of the olympian, hope you lot have fun with my gift- Across the room Theo hears the voice of the swordsman grow gruffer as Kevin puts an arm on his shoulder. He hasn’t a chance to investigate as itchiness begins to rise across his body. 

Theo quickly lurches to his feet and finds it difficult to keep his heels on the ground, as if he has always walked on the tips of his toes. He grunts and keeps his head down, trying to not draw attention to himself as he stumbles to the bathroom. He bumps into another party goer wearing a homemade spiderman costume who grabs him before he can fall. 

Fearful that he’s introduced another point of impossible contagion into the party, he looks up and confirms his fears as the padded muscle disappears to be replaced by the hardened abs and arms of a superhero. The man takes off the mask to reveal he’s Theo’s friend Mark, though eyes exposed Theo can’t help but see the lavender corruption in his taking over as his hair throws itself into a middle-part. Grunting as he inches taller, his other web-shooter begins to poke into his friend. Theo runs before he hears whatever smarmy one-liner falls from the lips of a man whose name is Mark no longer.

Miraculously the bathroom is unoccupied when he stumbles in, painstakingly ensuring that his heels stay on the floor with every step. As soon as Theo crosses the threshold he is overwhelmed with a burning itch. Before he even has a chance to check his reflection he’s filled with a supernatural urge to remove his shirt. Ceding to the impulse he no longer sees the unimpressive chest he woke up with this morning, pecs have begun to pad his chest while his few chest hairs have begun to spread like weeds in its center. He clutches at the new pounds of meat piling onto his form and bites back a moan as it fills him with visceral pleasure as his fingers trail through the field of chest hair that is growing thicker. 

Only then does he turn his eyes to the mirror and discover that the changes are not limited to his newly-muscled chest. While hair continues to trail down his thicker torso to his similarly strengthening stomach, the hair on his head begins to lengthen and curl as two horns begin to rise above them. His shaky hands go to tug them off as if they were an accessory which only causes his neck to jerk. Leaning in close he parts his hair and clearly sees the keratin growing forth from his skull. Beyond his new spikes he has somehow missed the darkening of his face as just like Kevin, stubble has begun to make its home on his cheeks. Rapidly growing sideburns shoot down his jawline as a real goatee lengthens on his chin.

In shock he falls back against the wall of the bathroom, accidentally losing his footing and catching himself standing on the balls of his feet like he has so pointedly tried to avoid. No longer is it possible to force his heels down as his toes are overtaken by the transformation, hardening and becoming impossibly imobile as they are covered with black keratin. New hooves burst out of his shoes while his pants begin to stretch at an odd angle from legs changing beneath them. 

Falling to the floor Theo cries out as he tears at the pants he swore he didn't throw on as his legs irrevocably leave humanity behind. Voice pitching deeper and shifting rougher as his thicker hands struggle against his clothes, he feels the new treasure trail on his stomach thicken as it rises from a bush of pubes so dense that they could be labeled nothing other than fur.

While his hands are unable to make progress tearing at his pants, his growing thighs make light work of the garment as they begin to flourish with fur, rapidly covering with curls thick enough to totally burst the tight pants to tatters. His hands trail upward from his hairy legs, feeling the forest of fur give way to the thick human hair that covers the rest of his torso. He blushes imagining finally becoming a creature he always dreamed he could be.Thick hair trails down his forearms and the smell of the wild rises from pits to be evermore unwashed. His hair continues to lengthen and tangle as he truly becomes a spirit of the wild, a spirit of unchained lusts and unending gaiety.

Rubbing his sweaty body against the floor, hearing his new hooves clatter against the tile, Theo feels his mind begin to be overrun with the instincts and ideas of a creature whose primary goal is the spreading of mirth and the heightening of hedonistic desires. Fear of what he wrought upon Kevin and whatever other transformations launched on the other side of the door falls completely to the wayside as the idea suddenly does nothing but increase his own excitement, his own lustful desires. Groping at the decidedly still human cock hanging in between his thick thighs, Theo finds himself certainly more gifted in this department as well, heavy balls send lustful hunger coursing through him while his new powerful rod stands high and drips with pre. Theo smirks as sweat more powerful than any aphrodisiac trickles from his pores and he stands to a new height.

Were he to exit he would stand a few heads taller than anyone else fortunate enough to be in a room with him, his cock would be fencing with their torsos, and something within him tells him that it’s not beyond him to grow even more formidable. Though latching onto that idea, he realizes the true nature of the gifts bestowed unto him. He instead shifts into a form more enticing to whatever partygoers remain that need further enticing. The new satyr hides his beastier parts and watches as his reflection seamlessly shifts into that of a wild man whom no one would be able to turn down.

His hairy torso still glistens with sweat while he trades his hairy legs for sweatpants that could scarcely hide the powerful package hanging from his crotch. Smirking at his new form, Theo steps out to see what has become of his new domain. Exiting back into the steamy gathering he finds that festivities have not slowed down in his absence. The crowd around the cowboy has multiplied and devolved into quite the intimate pile of bodies, muscled arms and deep moans shoot through the air as every outsider that the horde bumps into finds the idea of joining rather appealing. He sees a man dressed as a caveman beating his chest as weight piles on and instincts take over.

Likewise the costumed superhero that was once Mark has found a crowd of his own. Mask pulled up over his mouth to find dozens of other costumed men wanting for him. Even before he changed he was charming, and now with a body made for the big screen it’s no wonder the crowds are clamoring for him. Though he hasn't the time to spend nearly as much time as his fans desire, after the shortest of moments spent with the amazing man himself they likewise begin filling out. Costumed congregants soon enough find themselves more than willing to spread their gifts with any number of lolling mouths around them.

Theo’s hungry eyes and wanting cock feel the compulsive awareness that there remain attendees deliberately avoiding the pleasures that await them. Point in case, he turns to the balcony to find one of his friends, Peter, dressed up as a knight and hiding from true jubilation. Theo’s lips twitch as he imagines corrupting his bookish friend into someone that can finally let loose.

Prior to the party the two discussed their costumes at length. Both spent a good chunk of energy and care in preparation, Peter’s dressed as his longtime DND character. Just like with Theo, the costume had long been a fantasy for the young man. That is to say, isn't it only fair that he get to experience the real thing just like the satyr? Theo doesn’t hesitate to answer the question as he makes his way towards his friend. Peter jumps as the sliding door creaks open and his friend steps out onto the balcony.

“Jesus- oh? Theo? Is that you?” The satyr smirks as he sees Peter’s anxious eyes appraise him. He contorts his body in just the right ways to get the paladin off his guard, stretching to show the power that rests within him rather than simply flexing. Inviting Pete to wonder what this new form is capable of rather than simply performing a brash display of brutish strength.

Peter blushes though remains guarded, “I um, I thought you were dressing up as a satyr?” Theo tilts his head before laughing at having forgotten his glamor, with the flick of his hand horns return to his head and Peter once more jumps back, though now facing the satyr this sends him far too close to comfort to the lip of the balcony.

Seeing Peter bump against the railing, any playful plans of slowly bringing him into his own euphoric transformation vacate as he instead moves with inhuman speed and pulls the paladin close to him. The clink of Pete’s chainmail and plate echoes on the balcony as the sound of the party behind the two men fades from their ears. Everything in the world around them is instantly muted and dulled besides each other.

Peter’s eyes grow clouded as he has no choice but to inhale breath after breath of the wild man’s sweat as he’s held close. Theo watches his eyes start to flicker violet like the dozens of other men in attendance. He grimaces and clenches at the neck of his armor as he grows unreasonably warm. “Th- Theo. What’s happening to me-” spit trails from his mouth as the metal of armor begins to grow heavier as it turns into the real hammered iron chestplate that a paladin of his station would be expected to wear. He stammers out for help and begins clawing at the suit now too heavy for him to wear, and Theo is more than happy to help.

The satyr feels his hunger for the man in front of him grow with every inch of further revealed skin. Sweaty chest now exposed, Pete’s heaving breaths begin stretching his ribcage larger. When Theo’s hairy hands begin to creep into his kilt Pete pushes the man away despite his own wanting cock begins to stir. This isn’t right, something horrible is happening. 

Theo steps back, resigned to just watch for now, and Peter goes to scratch at his arm as a nervous tic. Only then does he notice the great changes that have begun to overtake his physical form. With each movement, small as they may be, his biceps have begun to pulse larger, veins trail down new meaty arms that rival the size of his head. Powerful biceps and defined traps demonstrate his prowess in combat without his even needing to pick up the sword.

His chest tightens as he sees his hands twitch and bulge larger, calluses forming from training for hours, for years, for longer than he could recall spending on anything. His new rough hands race to his scratch at his torso, to remove a costume he’s no longer wearing, but they only find more evidence of growth. Under his chin pecs have clearly burst into existence, below them meticulously carved cobblestone abs that would make any lord proud. 

His lavender eyes twitch as the idea strikes him like a club, he’s losing his mind as well. Theo continues patiently watching and waiting for his chance, not to strike but to personally usher Pete into the bacchanal, and as the knight tears off his codpiece to make room for the surging cock beneath it’s clear that moment is rapidly approaching. Tearing off greaves and gauntlets he roars as his neck thickens from that of a modern squire to a proper knight of old. Voice deepening and growing resonant enough to shout orders and taunt those he is to meet at the other end of a blade.

Speaking of blades, returning to the present as his jaw sharpens he sees quite the specimen standing in front of him. Peter’s cock easily pokes through his skirt and stands like a beacon as he ravenously desires the spirit of sex standing opposite. The knight is more than eager to meet the satyr on a decidedly different kind of battlefield than he’s used to. As soon as Theo sees the throbbing cock he pounces and the two enjoy their new forms together on the balcony, in view of the party and the city. Deep, wild moans of pleasure echo through the streets as Theo traces battle scars on the knight's form and Peter tugs at patches of hair that cover the satyr. 

Inside, the festivities have devolved into precisely the orgy that the god of revelry and madness had hoped. Cowboys and Spidermen using their webs and lassos to quite creative ends, demons finding the new nerve endings in tails and horns, werewolves truly unleashing the beast and finding more than common ground with vampires who are likewise finally sucking something other than blood. Briefly checking in, he’s pleased that the satyr found his way to the armor wrapped gift intended for him,  fingers crossed Aphrodite doesn’t mind his brief step into her domain. But more than that he can’t wait to see where the satyr goes from here, after all, his gifts don’t stop on November first- once a sex spirit always a sex spirit. Theo’s going to find people lining up all the time to experience the reverie he now inherently offers. As the night goes on and the pair rejoin the party it becomes clear that he is not to mind. 

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 , 𝐊𝐑𝟕

summary , people seem to be under the impression that you and your good friend sebastian are dating but little do they know kimi is way more your type

pairing , rockstar! bassist! kimi räikkönen x fem! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

Y/NNIE

hey seb quick question

is kimi single?

SEBBY

yes he is

why do you ask

Y/NNIE

cuz he gives big dick enegery

and he is high key super hot

SEBBY

ew that's one of my best friends

Y/NNIE

sorry

but you know I cannot lie when it comes to fine men

also have you seen peoples twitter theories that we are together

SEBBY

yeah hannah and I were laughing at them earlier

some people are so dumb

Y/NNIE

ikr?

anyway kimi's number?

SEBBY

I better be best man when you two get married

xxx-xxx-xxx

Y/NNIE

I wouldn't have anybody else sebby

yourinstagram

liked by sebastianvettle kimimatiasraikkonen 78,384,982 others

yourinstagram look who I ran into kimimatiasraikkonen

view comments

user wingman kimi>>>

user he def putting. agood word in for seb

user seb sent his man so Y/N would hear about how great he is

user mother lookin sexy af rn

user getting ready for the dating annoucment

user seb def got notifications on for Y/N's posts lol

user so we can alllll see seb in the likes right????

view more comments

SEB

soooo kimi

what's the deal with you and Y/N

KIMI

friends

dw dude I know you into her

so no need to get jealous

SEB

jealous???

dude I was trying to set you up

why do you think I gave her your number

KIMI

ummm cuz you wanted me to put in a good word for you

SEB

dude I'm married

her name is hannah

LEW

let me guess vegas wedding

SEB

yup

KIMI

okay but what if she is not into me

SEB

dude she's had the hots for you since say one what are you talking about

LEW

yeah dude even a blind man

she's super into you mate

KIMI

oh damn

JEN JEN

okay hate to break up this revelation

but kimi the love song that you wrote about Y/N

is all over twitter

KIMI

oh shit

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

um kimi please tell me why I had to find out through twitter

that you are parental in love with me

is this true or????

KIMZILLA

yeah

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

well I like you too

and fucking god you said yes or this would be so fucking awkward rn

KIMZILLA

right

wanna come over

also seb's asking when the wedding is

I was thinking summer

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

we can talk plans after we fucked all night long

KIMZILLA

sounds like a plan rakkaani

sounds like a plan my love

kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by yourinstagram sebastianvettle5 87,389,477 others

kimimatiasraikkonen every song I write from now on will only ever be about you

view comments

user omfg this is so hot

yourinstagram my rockstar <3

user isn't that kimi's cross??????

sebastianvettle5 took you long enough dude

user wtf is going on in the house of commons

lewishamilton okay but what colour suit should I get for the wedding that's the real question

user this is so fucking iconic

jensonbutton there are childen on this app kimi....

user and you clown's were really saying Y/N and Seb huh

user live laugh love kimi and Y/N rn

user this ate in every language known to man

comments have been limited

[yanderestarangel]

Howdy Lorenzo! I was wondering if you could do some headcanons about Felix, Troy and Adler, I just played the campaign and I'm just : 🥵🥵

HEADCANONS BO6 – FELIX NEUMANN, TROY MARSHALL, ADLER RUSSELL

♡⁠┊TW: face sitting, eat out, rough sex, penetration, blowjobs, afab reader, praise kink unstable relationship, degradation, fingering, 69, spoilers, porn plot, etc.

♡⁠ 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏 ♡⁠

This man really has two sides, firstly he will obviously try to be a gentleman and treat you like royalty or as if he is afraid to touch you and break you in some way. The first few times you two have sex are really focused on Felix making you cum first, often he'll just eat you out or make you sit on his face while he uses his fingers to play with your clit, showering you with compliments and often a few words coming out in German because he's too excited to formulate a sentence in English.

He'll make you cum so hard you won't even be able to stand up from all the shaking – Neumann is the kind of man who will go to great lengths to make you squirt and leave you relaxed enough to stop thinking about your problems, especially if the two of you are on a mission together.

He likes to tell you how beautiful and radiant you are with every move you make in bed, his hands will grip your waist while his blue eyes stare at your breasts that swing with every deep thrust of his cock into your cunt. "Fuck... Those are the most beautiful tits I've ever seen, schatz..." the older blond would praise you while making you tremble with his touch, the combination of his cock penetrating you with his fingers on your clit was enough to make you cum before him, and then he would be able to cum without the weight of the conscience of "using" you.

However, he has a very dominant side and when he is stressed and loses control, he cannot maintain his pacifist and oakish appearance, making you even surprised by the change of personality he can have.

The German will fuck you and maneuver you like a rag doll around the room, changing positions every time you are going to cum just to take his cock out and hold your face, staring into your eyes. "Haven't you heard yet, you little whore? You're only going to cum when I tell you to."

He will bite you, mark you, cum on your face and will act like everything but the gentleman he is when he is in his normal state. He would growl, his hips snapping forward, fucking you harder and harder. His cock would be throbbing inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with each stroke. He then leaned forward, his teeth sinking into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

"Holy Fuck... I'm gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum... Gonna breed you like the little whore you are..." He then pulled out, his cock throbbing in his hand as he stroked, aiming for your pussy. He then came, his hot cum shooting out of his cock and landing on your pussy, coating your folds and clit with his thick seed.

"Mmm... That's it... Take my cum inside you... Let it fill you up..." He would purr, his fingers continuing to push his cum deeper into your pussy, making sure you were well filled with his seed.

However, after the moment of excitement and lust has passed, he will make sure you are okay and apologize if he was too rough, cleaning you up and kissing every mark he made – hugging you softly while wiping his cum off you with a wet tissue. "Rest, süsser... When you wake up I'll cook your favorite dish ok?"

♡⁠ 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 ♡⁠

Troy is initially much more distant and casual, putting up a barrier between the two of you because of his trauma with Jane and the lack of trust he has begun to feel toward others. He may be less vocal and simply enjoy your moans; small compliments may come from him occasionally, but nothing too affectionate if the two of you are nothing more than casual partners.

One of the most frequent things he'd say at first, and the closest he’d come to real affection, would be, "Fuck, babe, you're squeezing my dick so hard..." Marshall will only start showing you extra affection once you prove yourself trustworthy and demonstrate that you care about his feelings.

He enjoys doing 69 with you, but you’ll only reach that level of intimacy after earning it; before, he’d insisted that oral sex was too intimate for just 'friends with benefits.'

Troy’s mustache tickles a little, creating a unique friction against you, but he’ll make sure you get used to it and not think about it too much – especially since the combination of his tongue on your clit and you choking on his dick is enough to make your mind go blank. He'll still be dominant, but not like before. He’ll make you take your time, not rushing you or forcing his cock down your throat, and he’ll start to open up more to compliments.

"You're doing great, baby... You're fucking beautiful. Just take your time, okay?" Marshall would say calmly as he slid two fingers inside you, his tongue working in tandem to bring you to orgasm. This marked an evolution from the first meaningless encounters you had; it was no longer just a transition but a real feeling of making each other feel good.

He'll make you ride his cock after the second time he sees you cum on his fingers. You'll be sensitive enough for him to feel your walls squeezing him tightly, as if milking him was the only thing you knew how to do.

The previously degrading nicknames are now replaced by a mix of soft compliments. "That's it, little whore... You look so beautiful with my cock in that gorgeous pussy of yours. Do you hear that sound?" the taller man groans, holding your neck gently while thrusting faster, making your legs tremble. His other hand grips your waist, keeping you from falling, even though you barely feel your toes touching the wooden floor anymore.

"Hear that? You're dripping—uh, fuck, hot as fuck." He growls softly, giving your ass a slap before pulling his cock out of your wet heat and giving gentle taps on the outside of your pussy, prolonging your orgasm even more. He kisses you softly on the cheek, smiling smugly into your neck, though there’s a hint of affection there. "So desperate to cum, sweetheart? Use your words, and maybe I'll let you."

After finishing inside you, he cleans you up and offers one of his shirts to cover yourself. It’s rare, but sometimes he likes to share his bed with you. "Lie here; don’t worry, I'll be here when you wake up."

♡⁠ 𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒍 ♡⁠

This old mf disappeared and came back into your arms as if nothing had happened, but he's so homesick and stressed that your reunion will be him burying himself as deep as he can inside you.

After some arguing and him trying to apologize, he decides the best way to make it up to you is by fucking the frustration out of both of you. He drags you to an empty spot in the tower, far enough that Woods won’t have his afternoon nap interrupted by your moans. You try to resist, still upset about his sudden disappearance, but honestly, he loves it when you get feisty, when you try to push him away. It only makes him want you more.

"Shut up and take it, angel face." Russell growls in your ear as he sits you on his lap, pulling down your pants and spreading your thighs wide. He slips two fingers into your mouth for you to suck, then pulls them out and slides them into your pussy without warning. You feel filled by his thick digits—a bold move that makes you whimper—but he finally manages to make you stay quiet. "Oh fuck... You want me to stay right here, between these pretty legs, fucking this sweet pussy until you're a sobbing, shaking mess... Don't you?"

He makes you stand up just to have the pleasure of pressing you roughly against the wall, forcing you to stick your ass up for him. He spanks your sensitive flesh, watching you tremble and wet his fingers even more, like a bitch in heat. He bites your neck, leaving hickeys on your skin. "You missed this as much as I did... I know you did. Fuck, you're such a whore, aren't you? I don’t know how I had the courage to let you loose without my eyes on you all this time."

"One more, baby. Give me one more orgasm before I fuck this tight little cunt with my cock." His fingers never stopping their relentless assault on your pussy. He could feel you getting close again, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your juices dripping down his hand; When you finally came, he’d give you another slap, and before your knees could go weak, the older man quickly removed his pants, exposing his cock leaking pre-cum.

He easily lifts you, placing you in a full nelson position, with your back pressed against his chest and your legs wrapped around his waist. The head of his cock teases your entrance, and with one quick thrust, he buries himself inside you, stretching and filling you completely. "I found my paradise in the infernal heat of your beautiful pussy..."

He wouldn't stop until he made you squirt and be soft from cumming so much, he knew he had messed up with you but he couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing you trembling and not even being able to formulate a complete sentence because his cock was kissing your cervix with each thrust.

Adler would groan hoarsely, kissing your face as his hips snapped forward, fucking you harder and harder. He could feel his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, increasing the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You don't look so tough now, huh? Are you sure you don't want to forgive me?" He fucked you even harder, making you feel that warm sensation in your stomach as he finally made you cum all over his cock—and cum inside your cunt, too. He kept his cock buried inside you until it softened and came out on its own, making you drip his cum onto the floor. The older man would sit you down on the couch and lower himself onto your thighs, looking at your spent pussy. "We're not done yet. I'll only stop fucking you when you forget how much I hurt you, no matter how long that takes."

And well... it would be long hours.

[dunmeshistash]

(This is just a little observation I realized that I wanted to share with the one and only Dr. Meshi,,)

In one of the extra comic thingies, Inutade asks Izutsumi why she wants to leave so bad, while everyone else doesn't seem to question. Once she reveals it, she's really flabbergasted about it.

In another mini comic, it's also revealed by Toshiro that Inutade's previous owners were so bad that Inutade practically worshipped Toshiro's father

I think the reason why Inutade was so shocked by Izutsumi wanting to leave is that she believes that this is the best outcome for the both of them, why would she want more?

I find their dynamic interesting and I just wanted to share to see what your thoughts were because I really admire your analysises

Thank you!

Izu and Tade are amazing <3

Here's the extras mentioned in case someone hasn't seen it

Tade was using in fighting pits where people would bet on the winners and that's how she lost her little fang, she was abused since very young same as Izutsumi, and both of them basically just changed owners from Terrible to Bad it's really depressing when you think about it.

The way Tade copes is by thinking "this is much better than before I cannot lose this so I'll do all I can to stay", she's thankful to her new owner for not being as cruel to her as her past one was. Not to imply she isn't "truly happy" with the current arrangements but we can see by Izutsumi that they aren't free, so even if it's a place she wouldn't want to leave the fact she can't it's still sad..

Izu on the other hand, perhaps also due to being fused with a cat, wont accept still being treated as somebody's property, it's no use being fed and cared for if you're treated like less than a human and cannot come and go as you please.

I hope they meet again, and that Tade gets the freedom to chose to stay or leave one day <3

Btw Tade's real name is Hijouhi!

[wishful-seeker]

Whats Inspiration Porn and how do i avoid it?

I remember a few years ago i went to a pro choice rally, i was the only one in a wheelchair, many strangers came up to me telling me how strong i was, how i was a representation of how no one had an "excuse" not to be here, and they took photos with me to post online and gush about how much of an inspiration i was. This event made me weirdly uncomfortable and i couldn't figure out why for a long time. I felt dehumanized, like to them i was an object, a trophy, a representation of their ablist views. Then i learned about inspiration porn an realized what happened to me.

Inspiration porn is when someone, usually an abled person, objectivities a disabled person. Putting all of their achievements on a pedestal to motivate other people. In that moment we are not treated like people, to them we are just an excuse to tell others they aren't doing enough.

It has a tone of "the disabled person can do it, so why can't you?" Which is frankly an ablist mindset.

By making our lives about YOU you are putting down all other disabled people for not doing the same.

I hear the phrase "no excuses" a lot regarding inspiration porn, implying those who cannot achieve these high standards are experiencing a moral failing. And its not just putting down other disabled people, but also abled people who simply don't have the means to do what the inspiration porn expects of them. It's saying "if you cant do what this disabled person did then you are lazy and a worse person." Which is just ablist as fuck.

Some characteristics of inspiration porn online:

Using photos, videos, or stories of disabled people WITHOUT THE DISABLED PERSONS PERMISSION. Do you know how icky it feels to achieve an accomplishment as a disabled person and then run across photos of you online filled with comments treating you like a prized show dog? Its gross.

Lots of phrases like "this is the definition of "no excuses"." And "they have my respect for doing this DESPITE their weakness/disability" (im literally writing this post because i JUST saw someone literally say "weakness" this way.) And "not disabled! Differently abled!"

We are not stories and characters, we are real people with lives just like you. We are not trophies, or an inspiration, we are just regular ass people. If you see something like this online know that the disabled community doesn't respect them at all. Don't do this.

[cckaisen]

i have some thoughts when it comes to satoru x older woman!reader . this is one of them . feast ur eyes !!!! suggestive . satoru is 20 years old in this , reader is whatever age u like but 10+ years older probs .

Satoru remembers that moment clearly. Tangibly. A reflection in a mirror, a photograph, a still-frame from his favorite movie. Warm amber light and cedar wood. Resins and shadows, black velvet spread out and rubbed the wrong way, red lace and dark wine, blood and desire thrumming hot under the skin and the promise of teeth in the dark.

See? It’s as real to him as life. He can see it. Think it. Feel it. 

But he can not breathe life back into it. 

And yet, he can still see you there. That face. That beautiful, open face. The flaring of your nostrils as they fill with air. The liberated sprawl of hair across the pillow, the curl of your fingers into the plush surface. The undulating curves of your body. He yearns to rove his fingers along each one, repeatedly, until he can remember the shape of you without effort. Without having to reach back into his memory. The darkest corners of his mind. 

Gojo hardly recalls his own position. He supposes his head must’ve been resting on his palm, since there’s vague remnants of pins and needles in said delicate recollection. He remembers not caring; or noticing, perhaps. 

Eyes of otherworldly blue drink you in. Your rest-riddled form, so true, so uncontrived. His to see, to hold, to keep. 

Rich, supple skin, beautifully bared, gilt-bitten. Your legs are one of his favorite parts of you, layered like cake, another one of his favorite things. He wants to sink his teeth into them, in the most humane, domestic way possible. To savor you; he’s sure taste will satiate him even in his next life. And the next. And the next. Selfishly. But he can be that here. Here, he can be anything at all. 

Anything, or nothing. Both. Neither.

Like a virgin, his lungs turn to jelly when he lowers his gaze to your breasts. The soft swell of them, nipples rounded, the eternal sensation of them suckled into his mouth temporarily stilting his train of thought. Satoru scruples, the inner corners of his brows twitching. 

His mouth waters, prompting him to swallow, as if somehow in your unconscious state you might notice and send him one of those simpering smirks where he might question if you can read his mind. 

Call it perverse, but Satoru lets his gaze linger there some more—perhaps in pure spite of your reaction should you be awake—before returning to the rest of you. 

Even in his petulance, Gojo cannot find one thing, one flaw in what he sees. It gnaws at him. He wrestles with the thought of waking you up to go again, as if the answer could be carved inside, as if he can somehow dissect his decrepit obsession, the golden idle that has taken over his every waking moment. 

Ah, who the fuck is he kidding?

You begin to stir. Gojo stumbles into a claggy-tongued state, his gaze unreadable. 

As if anticipating his presence from the bottom of the bed, you blink out the sleep from your eyes and speak huskily, “I thought you said you set an alarm?”

“Nah, I lied,” Satoru shrugs, smiling boyishly as you meet his gaze. The dust of pink along his cheeks isn’t lost on you. 

“I have a class to teach,” you remind him, adjusting onto your back. 

Satoru quietly appreciates the new view, laying his head on folded arms. “So? Cancel.”

“I should hope that’s the ex-student half of your brain talking and not the teacher-in-training side, Gojo-sensei,” you suspect, those older-wiser instincts kicking up internally. 

“Gojo-sensei, huh?” Gojo grins and drops his head to the side, “Write that one down.”

“In your dreams, kid,” you snort, throwing the blanket over his face and shooing out of bed. Gojo casts a pout under the blanket that you can’t see, yet it somehow doesn’t go detected. 

“Satoru,” you say in warning. 

The man groans excessively, petulance flaring up like the spitting of oil in a pan as he pushes himself off the bed, a familiar white shock of hair appearing in your peripheral. 

At this new turning point in his life, he’s finding it hard to adjust. This role of teacher feels like a part in a play. He’s not nurturing, and he really couldn’t care much for rules, nevermind the ones he would now have to enforce. 

Which was why he’s more than glad to have you. 

Without warning, Satoru lugs himself around your shoulders like a pet monkey. 

You hum, content, pulling off a loose tie from the mirror post, and throw it over his bite-littered neck. 

Satoru glouts at the mirror. 

“See?” you smile in tasteful jest, “Responsibility becomes you, Satoru.”

[castielsprostate]

genuinely though if they continue venom without tom hardy, or without eddie brock, i will blow myself up and not in a good way

[lizzyscribbles]

One headcanon you can pry from my cold dead hands is that Athena was ABSOLUTELY watching over Penelope and Telemachus the entire time Odysseus was gone.

It’s no coincidence that the second Telemachus gets into his first fight BOOM, Auntie Athena’s there to help him kick some ass. Like, there’s no way she wasn’t their eye in sky keeping those suitors in check from afar.

I mean, think about it, it’s real interesting that the suitors don’t start to get like, actually dangerous until Athena leaves to go plead for Odysseus’s freedom.

So yes, Athena was absolutely watching out for Odysseus’s family while he was away and you CANNOT convince me otherwise.

[syoddeye]

thinking about a futuristic/dystopian au where the tech company you work for moves you into one of their r&d flats under the premise of being a paid, live-in tester. you can't refuse—it'd be foolish to refuse. free rent, a pay bump, and all the latest gadgets available at your fingertips? goodbye, communal bathroom and capsule bunk. hello, filtered air and privacy.

of course, in your hurry to get out of your shitty flat, you skip the fine print. you miss the bit about the new ai that will be monitoring your every move to provide real-time feedback and, at times, tangible nudges to improve your quality of life. the part about the extensive research on your person that's been done and will continue to fine-tune. it's just a pilot program, a temporary arrangement, but it doesn't know that.

a deep, rumbling voice wakes you on the first morning of your indefinite lease, a voice you've unwittingly imagined more times than you'd care to admit. your eyes open to the projection of a bearded man at your bedside, looming, staring down his nose. he blithely observes how hard your nipples are in the flimsy little top you wore to bed. are you trying to catch a cold or impress him? he informs you that you're succeeding in both endeavors.

when you jump up, snatch your robe from the hook, and page your superiors—they're unimpressed. you signed on the dotted line. you shouldn't complain, and no, you cannot opt out. they instruct you to deliver your complaints to john directly to test his receptiveness to human-suggested corrections.

they assure you he cannot harm you* and that he is programmed to view your well-being as his primary priority. if you'd like to learn more, refer to the provided documentation or ask john for assistance. the call ends with a dismissive handwave, and you're left alone. well. not alone alone.

john chuckles as you frantically scroll through your tablet, trying to find ways to filter or limit his speech.

"think we're goin' to get along just fine, user." he dematerializes, his voice drifting from the unit's hidden speakers.

"why don't you sit down, relax, and have a cup of tea? then, when you're ready, i will turn the shower to your preferred temperature so that you may perform your customary morning masturbatory ritual."

your head spins, steam practically billowing from your ears. what kind of sick fuckery is this—

the door to the bathroom whooshes open, and you hear water gush from the bath spout.

"hm, your stress spiked, user. i think a bath would be best. would you prefer to adjust the jets manually, or would you like me to take the lead?"

*please be advised that the ai assistant's physical interference capabilities, if any, remain largely speculative and are not fully documented by the manufacturer. users are encouraged to operate the assistant within recommended guidelines, as the system's limitations in physical engagement have yet to be comprehensively understood.

[mer-acle]

Vengeance saga….HOW WE FEELING?!

Very fucking confused lol

Quick breakdown

Not sorry for ()

Very in character for Calypso but idk about "I love you but not in the way you want me to" bc like why she sucks lol

Dangerous

EASY FAVE. Hits all the boxes and Athena mention (she's so alive I am actually quite confident now)

Charybdis

Like that a lot better in conjunction with the animatic for dangerous,so yup, thumbs up. also surfboard Ody lol

Get in the water

Second fave. Love how tired Poseidon is even though Idk why. Yup love it

600 Strike

Lyrics? FIRE. love every single line. You tell him ody

In terms of what happens? Wtf is going on. Where did the power-up come from? Why are his eyes glowing? The goddamn freaking jetpack 😭.

Yeah I am not the biggest fan of how that worked tbh. Gotta be real I cannot suspend my disbelief for it so I'm just like why is Ody not dead.

"Next to my wife" ooh burn lol that was great

So those are my thoughts what are yours?

[lady-quen]

Cannot Hold It When It Thaws

"An angel falls to their hubris. It's a story as old as time. It's a story you already know, under countless names and through countless retellings. But knowing doesn't change anything; Soo-Won was more aware than most. And she knew that they would know she knew - and that scared her more than anything.

This is the day Jormag's heart freezes over."

[Pre-canon drabble, 2k words, Soo-Won and Jormag-centric. Angst. Exploration of Jormag's affection and corruption. No trigger warnings that I can think of, aside from a low-detail description of drowning. Art and writing is mine, Guild Wars 2 belongs to Arenanet. Dialogue inspired by Gen 3 Legendary Weapons. Divider graphic belongs to @soulbeastdragon. Keep in mind this is merely my interpretation of these characters :) Enjoy!]

"I want to make them permanent, Mother. I want to make them last."

"You know you can't do that." She smiled - in the sense that she radiated warmth, something that would perhaps best be described with a single word. Dragons could be infinitely complex, after all. "That is their beauty. They are fleeting. And so, their eyes are uniquely open."

"There is no beauty in passing. And yet.. it's gone. You unmade it. Why? Why did you close its eyes?"

Soo-Won could only linger in silence, dark eyes as unfathomable as the ocean. She knew well that the true depth of existence could not - and would not come easily to her child, not when they were so young. Perhaps, that was her curse. Either alone beneath the sea of stars, or surrounded by little things who only reasoned as little things could. Specks of light, innocent flickers of pure magic. Innocent, but destined.

The small dragon pawed at the ground, attempting to gather close the dust that once was a creature. A fruitless effort, with massive claws not fit to be this gentle. "It's still alive, you see? I can undo it."

"He. Not it. Please, let go, now. His soul found silence at last."

"No, no... It's not silent—you aren't listening closely."

Her tail softly brushed aside arms that had no real will to stop her, sweeping the last of the dust away. Finally allowing the once-mortal to scatter to the winds. The crystalline sparkles shimmered as they sailed the sky, a soul bidding its - his - last farewell.

"They are not... suited to our lifetimes, my child. Their minds cannot last, even if their bodies can be made to. Even if you make them pristine forever, they will not last. That is not their will."

"But I did not force them." The young dragon chirped, head turning in puzzlement as their already brilliant mind worked overtime behind sad blue eyes. "I asked it. I asked him. He agreed. But you unmade him. You took him from me."

"It's wrong, baby." She nuzzled her dragonling, wishing only for the depth of her love to soothe the turbulent soul. "Just because he agreed does not mean he knew what he agreed to. He can't have known. Us Dragons are of a different type of existence. Seeing things through our eyes, ah... well, I'm not surprised he..."

He broke, she wanted to say. But she couldn't. Not with the way they looked at her, resentment building behind those same orbs that once adored her.

But they finished it for her. "That he broke, Mother? How did you know? How COULD you have known? You didn't even ask him."

"My baby - they always break. It's inevitable -"

"You didn't ASK him like I DID!" Jormag boomed, breath coming in heavy pants from between jagged fangs. If a thing such as them could cry, she felt their eyes would be shedding waterfalls. "And you didn't ask now, either. If he wanted to live. No. You simply unmade him."

The matron of the ocean shrank away. Fear permeating an ancient body, an emotion she hadn't truly known until that moment. Even though she foresaw it, even though this fate was written in stars older than even herself, it was a different matter entirely to simply know and to experience it firsthand.

Her child. One of the only creatures she felt she truly, wholly, loved - and they lay destroyed in every timeline. The massive whorl of her body spasmed with terror.

The first thing that went was always their heart and there were no words she could possibly say to heal it. She ran a billion worlds through her mind and there was not one, not one life in which they understood.

Jormag simply continued to gaze into their mother's eyes, hitched, raspy breaths slowly evening out, like a stormy sea mellowed out into a calm. Before she knew it, they were as unshakable as a statue yet again, that same cold persona of reason they had since grown into.

"I see. So you've embraced fatalism." They commented, in an almost condescending manner.

Like they thought she wasn't even worth conversing with.

Like she was a relic who could not possibly understand. And yet, she did. She comprehended it all, every facet of it, and it was ever-so-slowly killing her. A deathless thing, watcher of every world that was and ever could be. And she was killing her child, too.

Soo-Won was glad mortals did not have to bear this burden. Yes, their minds were small, so very delicate - but they held a view of life no Dragon could hold. Something that only came with this same fragile grace, a flame burning bright before flickering out into the night. And so, she tried.

It would be futile. Again.

It was always futile, but she loved them and could not help trying anyway.

"The Cycle is life and death. Things come, and they go." The tip of her tail moved, a soft motion of rising and falling. "There are seasons in this world, my child, and it is our duty to guide their dance. Even the oldest ice thaws, and then comes spring. Can you not hear the birds sing..?"

"When the birds sing, the rot sets in."

The world was an enormity even she could not hold. Oceans would forever remain her home, but Tyria was so much more than endless waters. And so, in order to encompass such wealth of life, she bore that which granted her this name - this curse. Mother.

Lifegiver. As it all did in this world, their existence was spawned from water. As much as they rejected her, in the end, their domain would remain the very closest to hers. She could already feel the low growl building in their throat.

"You wallow in entropy and call it renewal." The scion hissed, stalking lightly back and forth like an ambush predator. "Cycles within cycles... grinding everything to dust. Does that make you happy?" The tip of their tail twitched, the only part of her child's body which so readily betrayed emotion. She thought back to the times they'd hide their tail under their form so that Primordus could not read their annoyance, and once again, she smiled sadly.

"It's not entropy." Though it may have seemed that way, it was the only way the world may continue. "It's balance."

She did not have the heart to answer the question.

"It's so delicate, but it repeats itself forever." The adolescent dragon mused. "Why? Why destroy something just to replace it? What about this carnage says balance to you?!"

Cycles upon cycles. She had no answer. Or, rather - she did, but not one that would ever soothe them. This glass-frail heart, so eager to chip, shatter and break.

"Why can't they.. stay forever with me...? I cannot hold this love of mine when it thaws. I cannot..."

"Jormag... love comes and goes. That is its beauty."

"There is NO beauty here! It's obscene."

She stilled. Every fin, every whisker. So too did her words still between her jaws, not even a sigh escaping their monumental clutches. The hand of her mind retreated when she felt Jormag's own slap it away. It felt cold.

It stung.

"All you had was the quiet void in which you dwelled. All those years in the abyss. Not even your domain is kind. Bring a mortal down there, and it ruins them in seconds and lingers while they scream. There is no sound as their lungs fill with water. The pressure crushes them. Warps them into shapes unfit for life." The scion spoke, in a droning, monotonous voice. A perfect façade for all the pain they kept - hidden just beneath the surface. Their voice, the only thing that could set it free, but continuously refused to do so.

"Down there, in your home, nobody would even hear them scream. But not in mine. In mine, I will be there. I will listen. Always. And I will talk. I will make sure they know they are never alone. Not even for a second."

"Jormag!" For once, she was forceful. Her own voice crashed into theirs like a tidal wave. "You are what will ruin them!"

Her offspring recoiled, betrayal briefly shining in cerulean orbs - no, there was more. A bubbling, seething hatred, an emotion of unparalleled intensity that ill befitted her gentle child. That explosive rage remained, coiling and writhing like a serpent, before it slowly warped into something more insidious. There was disdain, mockery even. "Oh..? Have I troubled you? Replace me, then."

"I cannot -"

"Cannot? So you WOULD have done so if you only could, hmm? I see. Am I broken in your eyes as well, Mother? And if so, since when?"

Since forever. As they all were. But she could not bear to let them know. Her imperfect children, spawned from a womb which failed them. But in the end, they would know that she knew, and that scared her more than anything.

"..Why can't you love me, Mother? Where did I go wrong? And when? Tell me the exact moment. So that I.. may make it immortal."

Their mind smirked at hers. Just for you, dearest Mother.

Stop.. please, just stop.

But they would not. No, they would not. For that was their destiny. Their great, terrible, self-wrought identity: and yet, she did not stop them. It was not hers to take away the choice they made - kept making - in every life. Her gut twisted, a familiar hurt burrowing through her vibrant body, her fraying spirit. The event horizon sneered at her distant gaze.

"You never loved any of us. It was all a deception so that we may fit your purpose. Enact your grand design which you forced upon us. But that is alright, for my voice is my own. I will speak my truth, not yours. And I will make this choice everyday. For as long as I breathe." Jormag continued, every word as sure as an avalanche falling. As a dagger caressing flesh before sinking in. "And I will ask a question you had never once asked any of us."

"Is this what you want?"

Their words were loud. Her thoughts were quiet. But she already knew. Oh, from the beginning of time, she knew.

"...And they will answer: Yes. Oh, yes. I do."

The scion turned, and she felt it like a wound. The splinter of ice that burrowed into her soul, never to leave. The final farewell from their own bleeding, shattered heart. Her only keepsake of Jormag, the Kind, who would become everything but.

White wings opened, and each feather sang like a winter wind. "Goodbye, Mother." The title sounded like poison in their mouth. "As always, you've left me nothing to mourn."

They were not the first to leave, but it hurt all the same knowing that the home they shared was home no longer. If a thing such as her could cry, her eyes would be shedding waterfalls.

You let this happen. Never forget that.

I won't, dear child. She could only watch as they departed. She could only ever watch, after all.

I will remember for as long as I breathe. For as long as my thoughts last. For as long as my mind keeps its vigil over this world. She felt her soul quiver, an earthquake at the bed of the seas.

And I will sing your name in my dreams, for as long as my voice is still my own.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Leah's Halloween Extravaganza: Butcher's Lane

(This was for Spooktober 2024! Prompt: skeleton & paranoia TW: cannibalism (as always))

*****

Butcher's Lane at night was a sight to see. The town council hadn't gotten around to repairing the lamps, so they flickered like the set of a horror movie, dying with buzz-filled screams. The streets reeked of piss, like a thousand terrified animals had urinated on it as they were dragged to their death. The worst of all, however, was what Butcher's lane was named after: the reek of butcher shops.

I ignored the grumbling in my stomach. How many days had it been now? 5? 6? The last of my water supply was dwindling, and they were growing more insistent on pushing their foods on me.

They weren't people, not like you and I. They ate the poisoned food with no problems, not even registering what killed you. It scares me, old friend, to see these things walking around wearing human skins. 

They recognise me as other, from the bones that poke out from my skin, from the growling of my stomach, from the blood on my cracked lips. I wonder if they understand that I know what they are, if they understand that they cannot convince me to fall for their trap, if they understand that the only way to take me is to pry my jaws open and pour that foul, foul food into my maw.

Gods, I was so hungry. It took everything in me to resist the urge to eat something, anything. I just wanted a meal. The half eaten burger sticking out of the trash was such a temptation, almost as bad as the rotting offal in the gutter. They were both tainted, of course, so I kept walking. 

Are you wondering, old friend, if I'm about to join you? Fret not. I will not succumb to being mere bones. Your precious teeth will not mingle with mine beneath the ground. I am better than that.

I kept walking, hands in pockets, all four of them. When I got cold, I interlaced mine with yours, stroking the exposed bone. The mimics in their disgusting butcher shops stared at me as I walked. It was almost as if they'd never seen a woman carrying a skeleton around, or as if they didn't know how to behave like a real person. My stomach growled at the thought.

All that meat in the butcher shop, cured ham and dried lamb and sausage links stinking like heaven. It made something deep in my chest shudder with lust. But- I wouldn't touch the fakes' tainted food. I kept walking.

Home was a little hovel at the end of Butcher's Lane. Something up there must have been laughing at me when it placed me there, right alongside the street full of diabolical meat.

Thinking about it made me glad you were nothing but bone. You were pure, unlike me. I'd tried to keep the taint from touching my flesh, but with it in everything the fakes ate, there was only so much I could do. I imagined it corrupting my flesh already, and shuddered in disgust.

But I heard you whispering to me. Your voice is like the sweetest of flesh, so tender and juicy and- Oh, how could I insult you by comparing you to tainted meat? You are bone, dry and safe and utterly unlike the delicious crunch-explosion of metal on my tongue.

I am listening, old friend. I hear you when you suggest that I eat. I know you worry, and I'm glad that you do. Truly, it warms my heart that you fear me wasting away.

But what am I to do? All the food here is tainted, and if I eat any food whatsoever, I'll end up tainted myself. Then who will be there to protect you?

Eat them? Are you out of your mind? That would destroy me! Why, they've got a higher concentration of toxin than anything else in this town! One bite of that tender, tender flesh, and I'd be shot to hell! Besides, it's cannibalism, and cannibalism is ‘bad’. I'm careful, not crazy.

Oh, I never thought of it that way. You're right. They aren't human, ergo eating them isn't cannibalism. That's so clever! See, this is why you're the brains of the operation. But still… what of the toxins?

Don't worry about them?! Of course I'm worried! Do I look like I want to die? 

I- Huh. I see. That… That might just be true, old friend. That might just be true. But if it isn't, it's my head on the line, not yours. Why should I risk it? 

Yes, of course I trust you. You're my best friend, the only one standing by my side against this horrid invasion. I'd follow you anywhere, you know that. Or at least drag your skeleton anywhere.

Alright, alright, you win. I'll go grab myself a bite of one of them. Which shop should I stop at? The butcher's? There is a certain irony to it, I must admit. I like it.

I dropped my old friend on the ground, letting their bones clatter unceremoniously. Brushing dust off my stained skirt, I strolled into the butcher shop. Immediately, one of them turned to stare at me. There was horror and disgust on his face, as though he were mimicking my expression. Fool thing: didn't he know I saw right through him?

“Hey there, mind letting me over the counter?” I batted my eyes at him.

He stared blankly, as though I'd grown a second head. I must admit, I should have been more careful about the whole affair. If he hadn't been so shocked by my hubris, I might have been in real trouble. “Miss, the shop's closed for the day. You have to come back another time. Please,” he added hurriedly, hands scrambling to find something. I had a sneaking suspicion it was a butcher knife.

Of course one of them would try to kill me. I launched myself over the counter before he could attack, fingers scratching and clawing at his eyes with ferality. “Die, monster, die!”

Righteousness must have lent me strength and luck in equal measure, for I overwhelmed him to the floor and caught his knife as it fell, plunging the tip right into his chest. A spurt of blood, red and luscious and oh-so-delicious, shot up, splattering my face. I closed my eyes and let his death coat me.

It felt so good to fight back. All this time spent fearing the taint, nursing that growl in my stomach, enduring the eternal hunger as it grew, and at last I was finally freed of my shackles. 

It was then that I let myself succumb to the hunger. I know, old friend, self-control is a key virtue. But just this once, I let myself go. 

I mean- how often does one get to feast?

My fingers dug into soft, loamy flesh, stuffing it into my mouth. I ate like an animal, tearing apart his ribcage, shoving my face in the cavity where all the organs, the good bits, were. I squeezed the stuffing out of his intestines and gulped them down. I sucked his eyeballs right out of their sockets. I ate and ate and ate until I was stuffed, and then I ate some more.

There was something luscious in the act, the devouring of a hostile being, taking them and making them yours. I loved it. I loved the waves of ecstasy that flooded me as I bit his throat, as I savoured the bile of his liver, and I straddled his violated corpse and ate his and my hearts out. I loved him, in that moment, loving my enemy wih a passion that I didn't know I had.

Old friend, old friend, was the start of my fall? That lying on the floor, clothes ripped and stained, panting in ecstasy, body pressed up against his corpse? Was that the moment the slippage of my sanity began, at your cajoling? Was that your intention all along, to tempt me into madness?

You traitor, tainting me deliberately, in a way I, so afraid of a different kind of taint, could never have seen coming. Oh, but you were right about one thing.

Insanity felt so, so very good.

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[epicqtefail]

still cannot get over the fact that in game hank and connor know each other for 3 days, 3 and a half tops? like, how do you have such an effect on someone you've literally just met? they met evening of nov 5th and last chance connor is nov 9th, yet they have all those scenes that make it seem like they've been attached at the hip for the last five years, at the minimum? countless times where they have a chance to kill each other? in 3 days?? i want to leave such a bold impression on ppl i meet irl

i think about this all the time!! still recovering from the whiplash of it. And doesn't Partners through to The Bridge all happen in 24 hours??? that's bananas!

In the space of 24 hours Hank goes from "be a good little robot and get outta here before i crush you like an empty beer can", to bringing the robot to a sentimental spot possibly because he is aching to share his trauma with someone but this comfortably doesn't count because connor "isn't real" although he kind of wants him to be real, or at least show some sign that connor thinks the android and connor situation is messed up too, and so tries to force an existential crisis on him by pointing a gun at him and asking him if he's afraid to die and what he thinks will come after.

*big inhale*

AND THEN,, then after those 3 or so days, Amanda or Connor-60 or whichever cyberlife exec is pulling their strings recognise that Hank is Connor's Achille's Heel. After 3 days of bickering and throwing tantrums at each other and forcing each other to confront their respective crises and playing dress-up-lieutenant. and so they essentially use Hank as the kidnapped damsel in distress to sabotage Connor's involvement in the revolution.

OR they try to kill each other to death in the most This Is Personal fight i've ever seen.

they really did a number on each other in those few days, for better or worse. and the same thing is happening in Markus' and Kara's stories but the constant high stakes survival drama of theirs makes the bonds and conflicts seem more appropriate in terms of intensity. whereas hank and connor are kind of just hanging out for half of it.. but boy is it intense.

(agh I'm DYING to make a joke rn that pokes fun at the way they immediately stopped being Just Hank and Just Connor like 1 day in and became Hank & Connor instead... But that "joke" is also some fanart i started a while back and i still need to have that reason to finish it lol. but just know im currently the meme of that guy straining so hard the veins in his head are bulging)