#but if glee could do subtlety

[jhuzen]

a what? [m.reader]

this… idk what this is. it’s very indulgent so excuse the very chill grammar. my head is hammered by all the hot men in hsr. so here. yes, they won me over (jfc how could they not my god, i’ve been waiting on them for months) ☠️ so here’s a self-indulgent cat-boy alignment from some tall men in hsr. i’ve been playing since the release and i’m already just a few exps away from level 40 send help.

𖦹 nsfw/suggestive contents, hcs ig, i use the speculative name for the trailblazer hehe, top reader :’D, this is basically a shitpost but also not LMAO.

GEPARD LANDAU — official dogboy, a lapdog too if you will

is this even a question at this point?

he’s your little pup (maybe not so little), and he radiates that golden retriever vibes. he’s a little more serious than that, sure, but rest assured, he’s always on you when you need him and he’s not particularly swamped with his guard duties as the captain.

he never fails to light up every time you pass by him when he’s out on patrol. he appreciates your little visits of course, sometimes even stopping by to bring him some food when you can. but there’s always something so magical whenever he sees you around the city, just minding your own business, not really aware that he can see you from his post.

and there’s just a spike of serotonin in gepard’s brain every time he ‘bumps’ into you in one of your personal excursions, romancing you with such subtlety (it’s really not much subtle, everyone and their mother in belobog knows you and him are together).

he thinks he’s so slick, trying to smooth talk you, when really, the tips of his ears are bright red, while you, completely unfazed only tried to hold in a laughter. what a trooper your boyfriend truly is!

serval thinks she should be getting second hand embarrassment from her brother’s actions towards you, but you both just looked so sweet that she just had to enjoy the view of you humoring her stiff as hell brother. he’s way too serious on the field (rightfully so), but it was all the more endearing to see a bit of that innocent glee that gepard somehow manages to manifest with you around.

he’s your good dogboy bro, always ready to serve you. though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate getting spoiled. your massages, especially your back rubs, are the highlight of his day after a grueling training — after his nice hot shower, with you guiding him all the way to your shared bedroom to give him a nice massage, it’s absolute bliss for him.

the cute sighs and the way his face becomes scrunched up as you worked the knots away from his muscles was adorable.

and if… the mood provides it, often times it leads to something a little bit more intimate than your wholesome little act of service.

gepard is a babygirl through and through man. he takes everything that you give him like a champ — extremely cooperative and will do anything as you say. maybe it’s because he likes being ordered around for once, maybe it’s because he finds it incredibly attractive to see you take charge… it could go either way and it drives him nuts.

he’s very loud, so you will be entertained at the plethora of ways gepard has to come up with just so he can’t be heard by the other neighbors while you completely wreck him.

handle with care after, please, he has to go to work the next day! we can’t have the famed captain of the silvermane guards limping around >:((

𐂂

SAMPO KOSKI — absolute mid with the way he’s a dog for seeking attention and a cat for being such a little bitch

congrats! you have a weird man for a boyfriend. the man that roams the streets of belobog be it in the underworld or overworld.

you vaguely recall the first time you and him met was when he was trying to persuade an overworld citizen in buying something, and you, as shameless as you are, moved towards him and squeezed the skin of his exposed waist, making the poor man yelp.

you gave him one questionable look before slut-shaming him with that getup, but not before buying your much needed supplies and leaving a sack of belobog currency.

admittedly, your relationship with sampo began as a transactional one. you buy stuff from him and he rewards you with a relatively risqué entertainment that your old folks would certainly faint from if they knew in the first place. but, as it turns out, even such a peculiar relationship can grow an oasis of genuine fondness for each other.

your dates before were just you and him meeting up in his place, hanging out, and then both of you just go on your separate ways. nowadays, it’s him that comes inside your house, incredibly woeful and in need of your attention and you oblige him regardless of how whiny he is.

oh, right, yes. sampo is whiny, have you seen him around his comrades? the man has the ‘woe is me’ attitude every now and then, and more often than not, you instigate that form of reaction whenever you tease him with a grin on your face.

there’s reasonable (or so i hope) amount of you calling out his outfit and why he feels the need to expose his waist only. sampo said it’s to attract customers like you, and you gotta hand the win on him on that one. though, it was becoming far more evident that you no longer see him as just an entertainment value and you as his source of income.

so. bloody. needy. it’s like he can’t live without your attention — thank the stars that the ban between the overworld and the underworld was lifted eventually so he can visit you more on the surface. one minute he skirts out of your home after some good fucking and then the next, he crawls back to you pathetically like a kicked puppy.

though, that is only to say that you got sampo absolutely hooked with your touches that he feels still lingering on his skin — you had an affinity for just harassing his poor waist while you call him names. he loves it anyway.

his clinginess comes with merit though, he appreciates the skin contact and you appreciate that chest of his to lay on. absolute king. if you tell him that his tits are the only selling point of why you finally fell for him, he will sulk and just sigh all day, looking at you with such disappointment.

“so i’m just a slab of meat to you, huh?” — sampo koski, xxxx

“pretty sure what’s in here are fats.” — you, nuzzling your face in his chest, xxxx

honestly, dating sampo feels like a one night stand, considering that he’s willing to limp away from your home in the crack of dawn, but it also feels just as endearing when he seeks you out or if you do the seeking, you could see how genuinely delighted sampo is to have you near him.

𐂂

JING YUAN — certified cat boy that’s just too good at fucking [with] you

mercilessly sly and an absolute mastermind, jing yuan has his fair share of mischief in the first place and you aren’t one he can spare despite having the honor of being the famed general’s partner.

you’re not so much of a fighter, you’re just a humble assistant to fu xuan (she disapproves of your poor taste in men though), but you learned to sleep with one eye open at the cost of you getting completely mauled to death by a general in need of his lover’s touch. he jumps at you with little to no warning, and you’re not certain if you should be proud of his stealth skills or just straight up be terrified lest you wake up to a succubus sucking you dry.

all that aside though, jing yuan is a passionate partner behind closed doors. he might look passive, but he’s sure to constantly be listening to your mumbling, even down to you just listing down what you need to buy for your home. he loves every part of you undoubtedly.

though, he likes to randomly charge you these fees wherein the currency is your warm hug. he could be a lot taller than you and still drape himself to your side while you hold him with one arm all the while cooking with the other.

a big, biiiiig cat, that’s for sure. and he accepts it, but on the account that you use it to tease lil ol’ him, get ready to be milked dry or at the very least, deprived of any form of affection from your cat.

he’s got a bit of an attitude too. he dreads the fact that you have a far more gentle disposition to his subordinates compared to him. you’re always so hard on him on work days, it makes him feel so lonely.

alas he has a remedy for that, particularly something you didn’t like at all.

mischief and a bored jing yuan on slow days are days you reminded yourself not to enter his office on, just to be safe and not get lured into his silly tricks. it always somehow fails, considering that he still is the general, and even though you are acting as fu xuan’s guide/assistant more than the general’s right hand man, you can’t refuse his calls because it’s still one of your responsibilities.

your cunning partner made sure to take advantage of that and cue… you writhing and breathless on his seat while he helped himself to your… offering from under the table. he promises he will be quick, but jing yuan is insatiable. for every time this happens, once or twice, a cloud knight would walk in to look for their general, and you had to talk to them without even giving away the embarrassing position you’re in.

hands down, a pillow princess if he’s not riding you to death. he’s the dozing general, but when the mood calls for it, he can take charge and just… leave you dry. so good luck with that.

cherishes the aftercare, he loves the slow intimate moments between you and him after. and if you’re a god at it, you can’t ever make him leave the bed, ever.

you once said, “oooh big stretch” when your beloved general did so one morning. that was the first and quite possibly the last time that you had him completely speechless for a good second. and that was saying a lot, considering that he always has the last word in your conversations. it became a core memory lmao.

𐂂

BLADE — another ultra catboy… except it’s the kind of cat that demands a lot from you after scratching your face

how in the many worlds did you ever pull this tormented man and his big sword? it’s concerning, really. kafka finds it amusing though that you even managed to make a space for yourself in blade’s little emo heart.

just laying it out there, you and blade babysit silver wolf and there’s no getting out of it apparently. kafka already placed you as the voice of reason when the one time she sent out only blade to look after silver wolf while you were off stalking the astral express gang, he dressed like a hobo, so much that he became extremely suspicious in sight more than he ever could dressed as just himself.

that aside, blade is probably one of the most demanding lovers you have dated (threateningly jealous at times too). no one can top him (but you ehe), he’s like a grumpy cat, literally swiping at you on the first few months before suddenly caving and asking you for almost everything.

really he just misses you, but he’s not into admitting such a fact. for the years that he’s gone through, whatever it may have been, you who did not care about who he was before was something that drew him in even more, you went at your own pace and it was no different when you became his. there was a sense of comfort that you brought to him.

so anyway, demanding partner that wants nothing but you. he’s extremely protective, which you found endearing, until you realized he will point a sword even to a little kid who so much as insults your face. not really good when you’re gathering intel when elio asks you both to do so.

dates with blade either includes the stellaron hunters because they are very fond of your relationship and are very nosy… or just you and him cooped up in your room, sleeping together, or ‘sleeping together’. not all too grand, but on missions that elio sends you both out on, you take the time to indulge your beloved and eat on different places, trying out delicacies of every particular world you visited in. blade doesn’t say much, but with the way his hand grips onto yours tightly already says a lot.

just throwing it out there, he is… quiet in bed. a grunter or a gasper, but if you really, really hit the right spot, he gives the deepest whine that leaves him shaking.

you either handle him with care or if he asks for it, go rough on him. like what was said, blade knows what he wants and will demand it from you all the same, no exceptions. and if you fail to live up to his expectations, he will move himself all the while glaring at you with so much disappointment.

he has… insane stamina, and if you can’t keep up, you better start working on that. the last thing that you want is to disappoint your vengeful boyfriend that has a lot of issues on his back. and while it’s not too bad of a sight to see your beloved imitate a sulking cat, it’s not so good when he ignores you. it’s not just about sex, if you so much as get that disappointing stare, best make it up to him and treat him like he’s your everything (as you should).

you once saw kafka and silver wolf planning out wedding destinations for you and blade at some point. you are unsure how to feel about your comrade’s deep involvement in your relationship — even more so when elio suggested the big wedding after you lot have accomplished your mission to the universe.

anyway, to say the least, your catboy is overly possessive and knows what he wants and can and will demand it from you. but even with such an overbearing personality and a terrifying look on his pretty face, you were already well versed in the blade language.

he thanks you on nights when you’re just out cold, probably tired from a mission, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your head. this man may have already considered elio’s proposal of the wedding date (jk).

𐂂

DAN HENG — third cat in a row. are all xianzhou men cats? but he’s the cat that’s quietly watching you, always listening

what do you mean he’s a [redacted for spoilers]? absolutely not. this man is a cat through and through.

the cat that silently watches you from afar while you do your own work. perhaps it’s because you always offer a sense of tranquility that dan heng found himself deeply enamored with you. you were just… so peaceful. it helped a lot, your presence soothed his deeply rooted anxieties born from his past. it’s as simple as you just shrugging and telling him, “why bother with anything else when i am alright where i am right now,” and dan heng fell hard.

you are as expressive as you can get, and can even get on the trailblazer and march’s antics. but the fact that you were mature enough to let yourself be resigned to the fate of time, that you were able to accept things as they are far better than anyone could, it was something your dearly beloved dan heng admired. in a sense, he also wanted to emulate whatever you’ve got going on.

bettering himself even more just because he loves you? goals. you changed this man and that was a sworn promise that he will never ever leave you from then on. always prowling around you, babysitting march 7th with you, reluctantly holding the trash the trailblazer rummages through with you, teaching old man welt how to use his beacon with you, etc.

that’s it, you can never pry dan heng out of your life anymore (unless you ask him to, in which case, please don’t, the man already has a lot to carry, how do you expect him to bear the weight of a broken heart from someone he thought he found happiness in?).

this catboy definitely lacks the expressiveness that you have, but just like any other stoic cat owner out there, you’ve basically read him well at that point. it’s almost as if you have the urge to make a guidebook about your boyfriend, and the aeons know that everyone in the astral express will eat it up.

he’s a little hard to coax at first to be more open in the beginning parts, but give him some time and he will be quicker to pry open than any other food that has an equally hard shell.

same thing in your more… intimate moments. give him some time to get used to things, especially if you’ve got far more experience at this sort of activity. go gentle, he loves the cradling embrace every time you ease yourself into him. he gets shy randomly out of nowhere in the middle of your little session, so do be patient.

though rest assured, he will grow bolder, eventually asking you to do all sorts of things that even you weren’t aware he knows about. he’s very eager to learn from you all the more, not just about the things that he prefers but what you also want! he’s extremely observant with your reactions, where you like to be touched.

let him take control every once in awhile, let him know that even in something as intimate as this, he can have a say. let him ride you until whenever, let him go at his own pace and he absolutely will lose his mind over that. the feeling of your arms around him, securing him in a tight hug while he drapes himself over you? dan heng will go nuts.

he’s also… very vocal. but he tries his best to keep it to a minimum lest you both let everyone in the express know what’s happening. usually though, you two only get frisky when everyone’s off the train and the only left are you, him, and dear ol’ pom-pom.

aftercares are everything to him, there’s something so touching at the fact that you are more than willing to still get up after being so spent just to make sure he’s comfortable after. you’re making this man cry, damnit! too good, too good.

never underestimate the tight grip he has on you — he’s usually the big spoon and he never hesitates to cling onto you. you’re like the safety that he finally found after running away from the things that trouble him. and every day with you is a day he always looked forward in waking up to.

𐂂

CAELUS — what the fuck is this? it’s not a dog or a cat. it’s a fucking trash panda.

ah yes, a raccoon with rabies (see: stellaron)

honestly, there’s no telling what is wrong with your boyfriend. it is… terrifying tbh. but you promised to be a supportive partner no matter how unnerving it is to see your beloved rummage through myriads of trash cans around belobog. more than once or twice, he has come up to you with a trash bag and even brought you a golden one.

you once asked what their use would be, and caelus just gave you a carefree smile while saying “we eat them to have better and stronger attacks against the enemy!” you quickly called dan heng and march to restrain him.

he texts you at the most ungodly hours. you don’t normally sleep at the same time as the other trailblazers since you took up the mantel in keeping watch of the express with pom-pom while the lot of you traversed through the heavenly galaxies of the universe. and because of that, your boyfriend just texts you until he falls asleep.

and when you are asleep in the day, before he heads out, he makes sure to tuck you in real good with a kiss for extra measure. seriously, he’s way too sweet for his own good. once or twice, you’ve caught him while you’re barely awake and he still manages to leave you flustered.

missions in different worlds means having to taste the myriad of delicacies a certain nation in a world has to offer. you both once ended up in a remote broken up island when the express made a quick stop in this one particular world that has… what do they call those again? archons? and you and caelus went ham on the dango milk (there was a distinct lack of trash cans around and everyone was safe from his addiction).

he loves you all too much, to the point where he’s attached to your hip, going wherever you go. getting all sulky when someone had your eye for a little bit longer. in that same nation in a world you stopped over, your eyes just happened to gaze a second longer at this young man with long braided blonde hair. though you were more interested in the tiny floating thing beside him, your raccoon was not able to inhale some copium and went all pouty at you.

either he ignores you, or he sends you a batch of sad pom-pom stickers in your beacon.

just wrap him in a blanket and fuck him silly, it can make him forget about the tiny things he was mad at you for. and just like dan heng, he can be very loud. so you kinda have to keep shushed up, a kiss usually does the trick however, so it shouldn’t be too hard to manage your little rowdy trailblazer.

he’s willing to take charge every now and then, he also still wants to make you feel good, after all! but he’s more of a pillow princess too, fuck him sideways and that gets him going, it makes him cry actual tears and alas, it was a blessing in your eyes to see him plead for you all the while trying to muffle his own sobs.

and after doing his head in, it is a must to spoon him after you clean him up. and maybe formulate a half-assed response when march comes knocking on your door, asking if you both fought or… let her come to an impending realization and just… make her not look at the both of you for a good week straight.

either way though, caelus is your pretty boy, always armed with witty teasing remarks and shitposts and a lot more stickers of pom-pom ready to flood your private messages with him.

10/10 -5 for the trash can obsession. ehe.

[spaceorphan18]

yes I did ask about love is a battlefield previously, sorry I forgot! i am obviously very obsessed with this performance and always like hearing your thoughts. I think the episode was meant to be about both of their issues, but came across as more Blaine’s insecurities… but Kurt had insecurities too. Do you think they could have shown this better? Plus is fencing actually about strength… I kind of thought it’s more of an agility/speed sport anyway but guess they needed to tie it into the whole stage combat class.

I'll have to answer your other ask to really dig into Love is a Battlefield (though some day i'll also get back to the retrospective and get into it...)

But the thing about Tested... I love that episode so much. Like it's really grown on me. I find it absolutely hilarious for so many reasons. And the Klaine in it is... fascinating.

But, admittedly it is an UTTER mess of an episode. One of the reasons it's so fascinating is because -- specifically the Klaine stuff, is so poorly written in a lot of ways. Which is why it has us all talking about it. Because what do these looks and glances and lines and pulled at threads mean exactly? What is really going on in the tangled web of plot.

I think the show was trying to write an episode where Blaine felt insecure about his body, but it ended up being about a lot more than that.

It's about both of their insecurities, not just physical, but where they are in their relationship. It's about the dynamics of their relationships. It's about how sex is used in their relationship, and how each of them come at sex differently. It's about the supposed competition between men in relationships (?). It's about Blaine's family issues, and self worth issues. It's about Kurt dealing with just being beaten up, and how he wants to be an individual and still not feeling it in his relationship. It's about the two of them trying to navigate growing up and how to be in an adult relationship when they're still not sure what being an adult is.

There are just so many subtleties and threads to pick at in ONE episode, it's just kind of bonkers. And Glee -- kind of being a silly, cracky show, especially at this point, especially since this is the middle of a bunch of arcs, isn't fully pulling it off masterfully. But it is pulling it off interestingly enough to really be dug into. It's one reason I love it so much - because there is so much Klaine to pick apart.

I do think they could have done a lot of this differently -- but I think it would have required a full season's worth of story telling to do it justice. But that's just me. ;)

[minorfamilysupremacy]

some scattershot vegas thoughts from discord the other day, collected in case i want to reference them again

(f/ @lu-sn, who’s always up to listen to me ramble)

i think it is reductive and/or a gross simplification to reduce vegas to simple sadism, which may be overeager woobifying but to me it is infinitely more compelling to see vegas as a warped version of a curious and intellectual child who was fascinated with how things worked and could be taken apart, which could allow him to, under the systematic dehumanization of himself and others around him, become interested in how people work and how to take them apart to get the desired result. it could then become a pleasure over the years through the constant repetition and reinforcement that this is his use, to the point where it would be a satisfying job well done to rip out a man’s cochlea. someone can take a clock apart with a hammer to see its inner workings but they will just see broken pieces because there was no care or subtlety taken; someone with specialized tools can see the clock and disassemble it and leave as much or as little intact as they so choose. and vegas would be trained to have no more regard for a person than for a clock to be dismantled, because there wasn’t any use in teaching him that. he has no regard for himself as a person, only as a weapon.



which further is why it would make sense that vegas would want to go into something in his post-minor family era that allows him to work with his hands and take a complicated process and break it down into many steps. he enjoys the challenge of learning new skills and figuring out how the sausage is made and doing something like cooking or gardening is a series of instructions, testing, troubleshooting, and perfecting, just in a less destructive way. the care he takes with bandaging pete is not only the result of so much experience looking after himself, but a step towards learning how to be a fixer and not just a destroyer. cooking for pete is, again, another step on that journey, but it isn’t practical for a weapon to know how to do things for the sheer pleasure or kindness of it, which is why gun reacts so negatively



i think there is absolutely a part of him that is trained to take joy in the pain and that is a direct response to abuse — not just learned behavior from gun, but a desire to have control over a life he has never had control over.


it’s nature vs nurture and i think any joy he derives from pain is absolutely not intrinsically part of his personality but was so deeply instilled he cannot tell the difference and won’t be until he is able to remove himself from that environment and figure out what he truly wants in life



gun is nowhere near capable of doing the minor family’s dirty work, so he has to shape his son into the model necessary to keep the empire going


@lu-sn: yeah!!!!! this is the ultimate question, how much of his glee in the face of pete's pain is learned vs his own


me: i do not think it’s his own. i think he tells himself/convinces himself it’s genuine but i think sustaining it in the face of pete’s refusal to break really demonstrates his core discomfort he strictly refuses to allow himself to access



i think at first he has the rush of power that’s a normal/expected reaction and that carries him through, and pete’s defiance/refusal to break is a challenge that he has to meet. his glee in the face of pete’s pain is knowing that he’s getting closer to breaking pete and thus winning (aka not failing/being worthy of punishment himself and having to deal with the agony of his own mental reactions, let alone gun’s)



which is only true up until gun hits him in front of pete, at which time everything becomes an exercise in desperate bravado and saving face because pete saw his mask slip first. pete heard the scared little boy voice and saw this formerly-terrifying creature cower. it stopped being about pete and started being about vegas needing to run from himself at all costs



which, again, maybe i am woobifying, but the fact that he falls apart into a soggy mess at the slightest bit of kindness shows me that a lot of this is a shield and/or learned behavior he will have to slowly undo over the years. and i think he will certainly have things that will continue to tip over into the sadism side, esp in bed, but i don’t think he is truly the unhinged sociopath that his image presents 
 i think the sadism that feels inherently true to him is the sort of thing that goes more into power, control, and trust. he’s intoxicated by the idea that pete would hand him the ropes and trust that vegas wouldn’t hurt him. at its core, it’s about being treated as enough of a person to have your fearsome image seen through but still bought into to some degree


in other words, i am putting myself in your hands because i trust that you will hurt me only in ways i wish to be hurt and no more

(they’re an exchange of humanity. pete wishes to forget himself and vegas wishes to remember the authentic core of himself)


@lu-sn​: I think there's also a lot of appeal in the fact that pete might react positively to pain. then it's more about giving pete what he wants in the most controlled and intimate manner. but i bet his wires are all crossed about this kind of thing. does he enjoy pain? does that make him a monster? or does he enjoy the act of taking pete apart, bringing him to the highest points of human emotion and sensation, and then putting him back together? (and does that still make him a monster?) pre-safehouse, he definitely wouldn't know the difference



me: absolutely — he wouldn’t even have the language to parse out his own thoughts/emotions

@lu-sn​: he could really benefit from knowing that some of his urges are in fact not that abnormal, even if the depth of the kind of pain he can cause is greater because of his mafia background



re: cochlea extraction me: i think so, so much of it would have to come down to pete learning to speak up about his own wants and to say, yes, i like this but not that



it would be very much about pete submitting and being able to take that pillow princess role, but also being the one who takes the reins as required to reassure vegas that he’s not wrong or bad or freakish and guide him away from a lot of the negative self-talk

@lu-sn​: and as we all know pete is so good about vocalizing his needs



me: but it does him no good to hide from vegas because vegas will reach into the very bones of him and extract what he needs to know



which i think is both terrifying and awful for pete AND satisfying to have someone else do the heavy lifting and to pursue your honesty


@lu-sn​: unless vegas is scared to pursue that honesty inside of pete, because it's a reflection of truths about himself



so sometimes it'll be pete pushing vegas, and sometimes it'll be vegas cracking pete open



me: absolutely. and i think pete knows how to do it in a line


i think pete can call vegas out with pinpoint accuracy BECAUSE of his deep-seated hypocrisy 
 pete can nail vegas’ ass to the wall with one statement and vegas will be so busy speedrunning the stages of grief about this world-upender he won’t immediately peg that pete is speaking from a place of experience



(or immediately be able to turn the tables)


pete sitting back and getting emotional catharsis by watching vegas flounder through his fourteenth mind-bender of the morning: all according to keikaku

@lu-sn​: the constant one-upping on who can expose the other person's psyche first skdkhdldhdlhdkd



me: this is basically what i assume their entire early relationship is like



vegas is a way easier nut to crack bc pete will tell him one (1) mildly nice thing and he’ll have to excuse himself to NOT CRY in the bathroom thank you



but this is what i mean when i talk about psychological vore!! because vegas just wants to entirely consume and dissect and understand this puzzling fascinating enigmatic creature


pete can basically dismantle him on the atomic level with zero effort


vegas has to work harder


[the-boney-rolls]

The Great Covid Beatles Binge, Day 4: The Hours and the Times

Black and white shots of Gaudi set to somber violin, you say? Yes I see, this is a Very Serious and Artistic film.

Oh Ian Hart is in this too, huh? Wow the Beatles cinematic universe has been here all along.

His face while John flirts with the flight attendant.

I think my issue with Ian Hart as John in general is that he just feels like he belongs in the 90's. David Angus looks like he could have stepped out of the 60's and even this flight attendant is serving Patti Boyd vibes but I think some people just have an air like they belong in the time in which they lived.

“I’m one of the worst pool pissers there is and I can’t even swim” the way John is saying the stupidest shit with a smile and Brian is all heart eyes, “Fascinating.” Yeah Brian this is the man you love.

Again, this is a very artistic movie, you see.

“Do you also enjoy deep play” Nice

“I’ve just spent an insufferable evening with an insufferable fascist” Me to my girls after my last Hinge date, am I right

"I’m not very good at this" "Of course you are, dandies love to pose" He's thinking of Paul, obviously.

So this movie is pretty much just them talking about gay sex? I feel like, just do it or shut up and talk about something else, give me some subtlety.

NEVERMIND BUTT BUTT BUTT

Oh that's it? Oh we're done? Oh ok

It wouldn’t be a Beatles biopic with “the topper most of the popper most” 

Ok so did they fuck or??

I do like this flash forward premonition moment of Ed Sullivan and Brian’s glee as he imagines/foresees it. So sweet.

What an odd ending.

This feels like it was trying to be Before Sunrise but wasn't actually interested in fleshing these characters out that much. The run time comes in at a cool 57 minutes so maybe it would have benefitted from 20 minutes of them doing or talking about anything other than gay sex (or more actual gay sex, that works too!) As far as fanfiction movies, it's no Two of Us, but it was a fine way to spend an hour.

[archive-of-note]

Murder Most Fragrant

Set in Act I of a Durge run. I used my Durge, Markus (Tiefling, Wild Magic Sorcerer) cause he’s my murder son and I love him.

Warning: Canon divergence, descriptions of gore, allusions to sexual assault, assumed sexual assault (This is told from Astarion’s perspective, and his first assumption is not “oh this weird tiefling who killed a bird has already worked his way up to mortals.”) I think I got Astarion’s thought process but I’m not so sure about his voice? However it is 5 Am and I have been writing this since at least 1:30. All mistakes are my own, cause again, one sitting in the early AM.

@simplyalexeiofficial who posted the initial prompt.

Astarion wakes up from the overwhelming smell of blood as Durge Tav is murdering *the* bard. That’s it. that’s the prompt.

The smell of blood is what shakes him from his trance. It’s living blood, not the subtle rotten stench of dead man’s blood or his own.

While the smell woke him up, it’s the sounds that really grab his attention.

Soft whimpers, harsh breaths, the slick wet sound of something moving through flesh.

Astarion ever so slightly turns his head.

That bard from the grove is whimpering, staring up at Markus wide eyed as the sorcerer crouches over her body.

Astarion rolls his eyes, both for the tieflings’ lack of subtlety and the ineffective angle Markus seems determined to keep.

The sorcerer was already low on the vampire’s list for who to manipulate, he was a bit unsettling, prone to getting lost in his own thoughts, and after he tore that bird to bits with all the glee of a toddler with a new toy, Astarion began thinking Markus might be too volatile.

Yes, an amnesiac sorcerer with wild magics would be a great meat shield in regards to Cazador, but there would be no point if Astarion doesn’t even make it to the gate.

With this new revelation of Markus’s ineptitude in regards to pleasure, the tiefling has been moved to the very bottom, Astarion may have been forced through worse, but he’d like to actually get some enjoyment from the inevitable bedding.

“…please…sto—hap—!”

If he still had blood in his veins, Astarion is sure it would be running cold.

Murderous violence is one thing, one thing Astarion can get behind and indulge in, but this… maybe he should consider going off on his own.

More whimpering, more sounds of flesh.

Then a crack. Astarion’s head jerks back to the scene, that noise could not mean anything pleasant.

The bard’s arm is stretched out towards the fire, towards Astarion, and not only is it covered in blood, there’s an unnatural bend to it.

The girl’s fingers twitch with every regular roll of Markus’s shoulders, the man letting out a few muffled grunts as he roughly pulls at something.

A high pitched wheeze from the girl, Astarion didn’t even bother listening for her name, and then splatter.

Markus stands, and between his legs and the idle back and forth of his tail, Astarion sees what he had been doing.

There’s a morbid relief in the realization the bard’s lower half is still clothed. Even if her trousers are soaked heavy with her own blood.

The sorcerer begins muttering something, an incantation perhaps, his blood soaked hands held above his head.

Astarion looks back down and makes eye contact with the mutilated bard.

Her mouth opens, broken arm shifting as she tries and fails to make a fist, silently, desperately begging Astarion for help.

He stares back at her, eyes wide.

“… accept this offering, Sanguine King, accept my humble apology for my failures.”

Disgust and rage bubble beneath the horror, doing this for a god? The gods never did anything for Astarion, and considering the predicament they are all in, the vampire is confident in his belief that all of his companions have been abandoned by their beloved gods as well.

“Take this paltry flesh, I beg of thee send a sign, I have not strayed, I have not betrayed or abandoned my mission, I beg for nothing but a chance to correct my failures, a chance to bring about the world as I have pledged.”

The bard is still making pathetic attempts to escape, as if her insides pooling around her aren’t an indication for how this will inevitably end.

Markus looks down, head tilting and tail swaying in something like amusement as the girl keeps fighting.

The man shifts his weight and Astarion freezes, even holding his breath, the air stuck in his chest putting pressure against his unbeating heart.

“They can’t help you, even if they found us like this, even if they killed me, there’s no saving you.”

Markus crouches back down, cupping the bard’s cheek to force her to look up.

“You’ve lost too much blood, tissues have already begun necrotizing, sepsis is a terrible way to die, if anything, killing you now is a kindness.”

Astarion’s stomach rolls, Markus sounds kind, his soothing rumble adding an unnerving comfort to his words.

The sorcerer rubs his thumb against the bard’s cheek, like a parent comforting a crying child.

She spits in Markus’s face, or at least she tries to.

The glob of bloody spit doesn’t even disconnect from her lips, barely more than a pathetic bubbling from her mouth.

Markus’s eyes narrow even as his lips quirk up into a forced smile.

With a harsh motion Astarion doesn’t entirely see, Markus does something that makes the bard gasp, her haggard breathes turning into desperate gurgles as her body convulses.

Markus twists his body, giving Astarion a clearer view of the bard’s death throes.

The sorcerer’s arm is buried elbow deep in her stomach, and if the angle didn’t give it away, the unnatural bulging beneath her skin does.

He’s digging in her chest cavity, and with the sudden stiffening of her entire frame, Astarion knows the man has a gotten a hold of her heart.

The air is still, the night silent, and Markus seems to be savoring the sensation of the girl’s heart in his hand.

With a sudden harsh motion, his arm twist, and the bard goes limp.

After another moment of stillness, Markus sighs, arm slowly retreating from the corpse as he stands, the girl’s mangled heart is a lump of torn flesh in his hand.

The tiefling stares down at the body, his expression hidden from view.

Another sigh, less satisfied than the last, and the tiefling begins drawing on the ground around the bard’s body.

Again he stands above the body, hands open at his sides, staring at the sky as he mutters something.

The words are quiet and rushed nonsense, even as Astarion can hear the tiefling’s heartbeat speed up, with the words becoming louder and more slurred.

Until, with a sudden choke, the tiefling stops speaking, obviously panting as he sways in place.

Markus’s head rolls, his swaying becoming even more precarious before suddenly stopping.

The tiefling looks to his hands with a gasp, his tail thrashing as he steps back, another gasp and another more panicked step back that almost knocks the sorcerer onto his ass.

Markus looks around for something, and Astarion wants to roll his eyes at the performance, why waste the energy when, as far as he knows, he’s the only person awake.

———

“Overwhelming violent desires fester in my skull.”

Markus is twitching, his jaw rolling as he picks the drying bits of bird blood and sinew from beneath his claws.

“The norm is to keep dirty thoughts like that to ourselves. But do carry on.”

Suddenly tearing the bird at the infirmary apart may have been a bit concerning, but if this tiefling isn’t just capable of violence, but relishes in it, he may be useful to Astarion.

“A feeling deep inside possesses me and whispers murder, over and over.”

The tiefling bites his nails, a loud crack coming from between his teeth before he spits out the broken off tip of his claw.

Markus sounds shaken, so Astarion tries some sympathy, “It sounds like you’ve been dealt a vile hand…” but not too much sympathy, he can’t dull this potential blade, “I say: Play it. Play it for all it’s worth!”

The tiefling’s tail twitches, the jagged barb flicking back and forth as the smell of ozone slowly grows.

“Nobody should deny themselves of their true nature.”

Markus doesn’t respond, instead wiping his hands down the front of his robes, before he picks at his nails again.

Astarion lays on a bit more concern, Markus needs to think he cares, “But, do take care of yourself.”

Markus grimaces, humming a noncommittal, but affirmative, note.

———

Astarion didn’t consider the possibility of actual possession, but with the way Markus is acting, it’s a possibility he now has to consider.

The tiefling’s panic seems to settle, not entirely, but enough that the man doesn’t look ready to collapse in a panic.

Markus stands over the body, before seeming to make a decision.

He grabs the bard and her measly bedroll, dragging them both away with some effort, but there’s an ease to his movements that imply some familiarity.

Astarion is still staring at where the tiefling vanished into the brush, thinking over his options in regards to the sorcerer.

He can pursue Markus, and hope that the bloodshed of their adventure satiate whatever demands the tiefling kill.

But if he does try, and it doesn’t work, would those violent parts of Markus begin demanding Astarion’s blood?

He needs more information.

There’s a rustling, and Astarion pretends to trance, taking note of the sounds of sloshing water and kicking dirt.

He’s properly trancing again before Markus starts snoring.

———

“Where do you think she went?”

Markus shrugs at Shadowheart’s question, not looking up from the pack he keeps reorganizing.

“Astarion?”

“Not a clue, maybe she wondered off, there are certainly many things capable of mauling you out in the woods.”

Markus pauses for a moment, eyes glancing toward Astarion before quickly returning to the pack.

“Wouldn’t we have heard something?”

“Not if it got her in the throat first.”

“Or if it crushed her lungs.” It’s the first thing Markus has said all morning, and Astarion realizes he doesn’t know which one Markus did.

“Shouldn’t we go looking? What if she’s—“

“We have illithid tadpoles in our heads, we’ve been lucky so far, but I’d rather not tempt fate more than necessary.”

“But she wanted to help!”

“And we told her it was dangerous, and that was taking into consideration all of us, if she decided she knew better, well then who are we to undermine her choices?” Markus’s tone implies finality, and no one else pushes the matter.

As they leave the campsite, Astarion notices a dark red splotch in the dirt. He kicks some loose sand over the spot, not noticing Markus watching him as he does.

[llondonfog]

If you're still doing the fic meme, maybe Silver's first time getting sick and Lilia worried, cause maybe it's his first time dealing with a sick human child. Honestly anything you write will be a Godsend.

[✐meme] three sentence fic meme

Lilia Vanrouge has faced hordes of blood-thirsty enemies frothing at the bit for his head on a silver platter and laughed with mad glee; he has deftly navigated the razor-sharp trip wires of simpering subtlety that was the Queen's council without missing a single, twisted step; he has even tamed a raging baby dragon princeling's fiery tantrums with a smile still full of grace and only singed bangs that rather end up suiting his roguish charm.

He can count on one hand the times that he's felt true, genuine fear, the kind that wriggles and buries its way through your heart like an invisible maggot, only to erupt in full hideous bloom once it is too late to halt it at the source.

This, is one of those times— the child on his bed curls there pitifully under a thick quilt, sniffling in misery as his features take on an alarming, rosy complexion and his small frame trembles with a chill so at odds with the late summer air.

" . . . Papa?"

As if it had been a command by the Queen herself, Lilia finds himself instantly kneeling by the bedside at that hoarse, fretful cry, careful talons loosely carding through sweat-soaked hair.

"I am here, little one," he soothes quietly, waiting until those glassy auroral eyes have blinked once, twice, before focusing on him. "I promise, it won't be long now. I've sent for the palace healers, and dear Malleus has said he would accompany them straight here. Wouldn't you like that, darling? You like it when he visits, yes?"

A tiny cough accompanies the nod from the boy, and he perks up slightly at the mention of the prince's impending arrival, gaze brightening marginally.

"Will Malleus-sama bring his fireflies, Papa?"

Ah yes— the boy was fascinated by the green sparks that would dance and dazzle from the prince's fingertips, and it was an open secret that Malleus delighted in such a rare, innocent appreciation of his magical display.

Lilia has returned home from many a trip to find them together in a dusky garden well past the prince's obligation, a vulnerable, tucked away smile on his regal face as he watched Lilia's son chase the lights with laughter.

"Yes, I think he might— we want you to feel better, and isn't Sebek's father always saying that laughter is the best medicine?" Lilia coos softly, stroking a talon lightly down the boy's cheek where the sensation elicits a faint ticklish huff. "Such a funny human notion— why, if that were the case, I bet I could get you out of bed in only ten minutes!"

He watches as that statement brings a familiar crooked smile to Silver's face, wishing terribly that such a cure could be true.

His knees twinge at the uncomfortable posture, hips protesting at such a stance to still be kneeling by the bed, but he cannot, will not move until Malleus and the healers arrive. These old aches and pains, they matter little as he hums snatches of long-forgotten melodies and strokes the boy's hair as if by his mere presence he could battle the fever away— but he knows he'd kneel there for eternity and then some as small fingers reach for and curl between his own with a trust undeserved.

[angelhummel]

One thing I love so so so much about Glee is the dedication of the costume department. You can look at any episode and get a feel for how much time and effort they put into making sure each main character stood apart from one another, and that their distinct personalities were on full display via their wardrobe. It was a labor of love that definitely paid off

My favorite thing is how much it really makes our main characters pop on screen. That’s only reinforced by the background actors, who do walk around in just generic high school kid outfits. T shirt, hoodie, jeans, etc. Like even if you knew nothing about the show, it probably wouldn’t take longer than ten seconds to pick all the main characters out of a crowd

This show’s specialty isn’t exactly subtlety, but I think it’s used to full effect in this case. The distinct wardrobes help our main character glee kids stand out even more. Both to us as an audience, and in universe to show how “othered” they are. Their bright, unique, artistic souls standing in stark contrast with the dull droves of people who will never understand them

(I do think all the straight boys in general could’ve used a bit more distinction. But even still I think it’s just Finn, Sam, and Ryder that suffer the most. Like they do have SOME separation between them but I also feel like they could share one another’s clothes more than anyone else on the show. But then they were written to be like the everyman characters so I guess that’s intentional)

Besides that, even when there’s some overlap, everyone’s style choices feel distinct. Like if you had to sort through a pile of vintage dresses, you’d know what went in the Rachel pile and what went in the Tina pile. Or sweater vests for Artie vs Blaine, or animal themed clothing for Brittany vs Rachel

I also wouldn’t use “timeless” to describe everyone’s fashion on the show. But I do feel like this aspect of Glee is much less dated than some other shows from around the same time (TVD, PLL, Degrassi). Like maybe the urge to just go snatch up every generically trendy piece of late 00s early 10s clothing you could get your hands on was strong, but the wardrobe department didn’t take the easy way out

I dunno I just think everyone’s wardrobe is like a perfect showcase of who they are as a person and as a character and I appreciate the dedication of the costume department to be able to look at all their distinct and unique personalities and reflect that back to us in a visible and tangible way

[melodrama-ticcc]

.: 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 :.

abstract: this is an oc x roronoa zoro drabble detailing a young woman's troubles with jealousy, insecurity and anxiety. writing and original character by me. i do not own or claim the rights to one piece. minor spoilers for the land of wano arc. (this drabble is to be continued.)

if you enjoy my writing, please feel free to check out my blog and submit a request! thank you for taking the time to read my work.

---

sanguineous in nature, the subtlety of its ligneous textures drew itself in soft, closed grains. incarnadine lacquer glossed over the ridges of its luciferin hallmarks. a leering mouth grinning something enviously sinister. with swinish tusks and ferine teeth protruding from its heinous grin. a burly nose scopes the mien of the demon, it's nostrils wide caverns that meet with a point before ascending a taper. where its bridge meets the brow, the creature takes an invidious countenance. in which its brow delves passed the line of sight to bare a malignant scowl. orbs sheen gallantly in gilded chromaticity. its pupils bleak and empty, carrying an endless abyss of darkness. bestial horns billow from either flank of its head, only consummating the onryo's demonian origins. such a perdition, its facade exudes an aura of foreboding. only vanward does this apparition reap contemptuously, as its semblance is incontestably covetous and prejudicial. but it is also melancholy.

for as the apparition bows its occiput, its, or rather, her visage illustrates one of anguish and torment. a woeful banshee whose animosity consumed her. her leering mandible wailed with eternal sorrow. her once scowling brow upturnt in insufferable tribulation. she was a creature driven ill by the refractory hysteria of her abortive desires. a demon born from envy and enmity condemned to a perpetuity of great atrocity and travail. a hannya.

perhaps it was due to her woeful past, that she became so distraught over these frivolous matters. or her primitive ideologies that the concept of true love did in fact exist? otherwise, her habitual persistence to attach herself to those she valued so dearly.

perhaps it had been all three.

but the triviality of these exhibitions were far more pivotal through her own perception than they necessarily tended to be.

and so, as she donned that treen mask that exuded such impenetrable evil, it was much more than just a facade utilized to veil her identity to the people of this land. much more than a symbol of sanguinity to the institutionalized prospects of wano.

it was whom she had become.

when nami and sanji had inquired about her wellbeing, she simply gesticulated. their concerns were met with an impetuous hum, before she removed herself from the cask of sake she had been leant against and began her descent in the opposing direction. she watched the kanjiki on her feet plant circular imprints into the freshly fallen snow. the bamboo brimmed conical upon her head casting a shadow that hid well her bleak bearing.

cerulean jade tresses drape effortlessly over the strong forearm of a swordsman. a delicate, graceful arm rests deliberately over the man's chest. another snakes purposefully round his nape. dainty fingers pressing against the bare skin of his tanned exterior. her face, the temptress, was irresistibly beauteous. fragile features adorn her faultlessly round face. imposing sapphire eyes are framed by her elegant, dark lashes. ones that, even the most recalcitrant of men could not resist gazing into. the same one's that gently kiss the tops of her cheeks with their tips as she rests, head nuzzled at the apex of his broad shoulder. she does not stir, but sleeps soundly in his arms. she does not shiver in respect to the bitter winter that lies outside that old shack they rest in, but rather glows a most pleasant pink in the warmth of his presence. her button nose scrunches in glee, and her scarlet-painted pout simpers in satisfaction of her own actions. it is as if her it is her ambition to evoke some sort of reaction of rango. her intent to forlorn her into a disgraceful disposition.

the envisage in which brook had just itemized to nami, sanji, robin, franky, and herself was an iteration engraved to her memories. one that, despite her pertinacious efforts to cease the illustration, vigorously persisted in her consciousness. perpetually, without clemency. a relentless mental torment that both enraged her and filled her with heartache. with each chimera, her wrathfulness only burgeoned.

zoro's lineament prostrated her mental process. his felicity was present in the way his lips formed a content grin. eyes were shut peacefully in slumber. from the waist up, his body is bare. wrapped meticulously in bandages to aid in rehabilitating his injuries from the day prior. on his right, the cerulean-haired siren wrapped up in his burly arm. which held her against his body by her impossibly thin waist. his left arm was bent back behind his scalp in his customary leisure. he is tranquil. he is serene. his traditionally hardened facade is softened in placidity. zoro seems, reposeful. it was peculiar to see such an anomalous sight. he was empyrean. for such a man known for his devilish nature, celestial was not typically an adjective used to elucidate such a man. on contra, he looked it. and some part of her longed to be able to provide such a comfort for him. she repined it.

prevalent was this matter, as the most recent rendition to the swordsman and the harlot's endeavors. verily, this had been an escalation through a series of irrefutable instances. there had been the initial indication of interest when zoro had demonstrated his ungodly strength to protect her. her compulsivity in making such calculated displays of affection toward him only reinstated the cogitation. most always, when rango had seen them together, the vamp insinuated a unrequited exploitation toward the moss-haired pirate. only, he had yet to draw cease to such unnecessary exhibitions. this, however, this had been the conjuncture. at the forefront of all their impertinent acts, was the two of them sleeping together. that only solidified rango's tribulations of her unlabeled lover and the mysterious courtesan. conceivably, it was consequential that she and her crewmate had not yet defined the venereal relations between them.

and then, as the golden rays of day shine prettily through the cracks of that old shack, infuriatingly faultless unto the other woman's striking beauty. a tender caress, precedented by the amorous osculate of her besmirched pucker placed fondly amongst the fine line of that idiot's jaw. then he, so virile, returning the predilection serried the breadth between their veneer's with a silken kiss to her forehead.

amethyst optics glimmer with saturnine tears. aggrieved, her lips cusp and writhe into a lour. anger and sadness birth feral resentment. for the heart was a heavy burden, and love was a pernicious affair.

[wifelinkmtg]

HOT. CROSSBOW. AUTUMN.

We’re going back to Innistrad, and oh thank G-d Magic is horny again.

INNISTRAD: MIDNIGHT HUNT + CRIMSON VOW

Welcoming Vampire (art by Lorenzo Mastroianni)

Welcome, indeed, to you who have traveled far across the sanitized wastes of Zendikar, the milquetoast art direction of Kaldheim, the mediocrity of plane after plane: here is a feral place, and a bloody one, of slavering predators and racing pulses, a place where the primordial twins of fear and lust are impossible to sever. Enter here, ye thirsty, and be quenched.

Novice Occultist (art by Zara Alfonso)

Oh, we are off to a great start. This is not only one of the hottest girls in this set (and definitely the one with the best hair, jesus), but also everything about this moment makes me feel protective - the apprehension in her expression, the conjunction of the knife and the bandaged arm, the fact that she is evidently attempting some sort of amateur summoning ritual with a salt circle and several raw steaks, which let’s face it, is not going to end well. The interplay between that feeling, then, and the mechanics of the card, which doesn’t really do anything until she dies, so you want to sacrifice her to some other card, is very effective. Yes, she only exists to die doing something instructively ill-advised, but she’s vulnerable, sympathetic, and really, really hot, so you feel something when she does. Art and mechanics working together! This is the kind of thing that makes Magic special. 10/10 would do something occult and ill-advised in a barn with her any night.

Augur of Autumn (art by Billy Christian)

I don’t know, it’s like, am I over-intellectualizing this stuff? Like I see a beautiful woman and my immediate response is to interrogate the nature of my attraction to her, what’s going on there? [feather. antler. apple.] Shame, you think? Probably some of that, yeah, some internalized whatever or maybe just fear of the vulnerability that comes with saying desire out loud. Plus, I spent a lot of years back in the day reacting to bad experiences with kink & its practitioners by getting unnecessarily moralistic about sexuality. [acorn. bone. acorn.] Yes, very funny. But you’re right, subtlety is overrated, this whole project is just...publishing my desires (as entertainment, but still). Maybe I should only be writing this while pent-up and turned-on? Or maybe I should be more selective. Like, you’re lovely, and I really like that you seem to be a competent occultist, unlike my last, but I’m not feeling much beyond that. [bone. gem. feather.] I don’t... sorry, I don’t know what that means, could you - hang on, is that feather bloody? When did that oh my G-d I know what I need to do.

FOUR YEARS AGO

was when I reviewed the last Innistrad sets, Shadows over Innistrad and Eldritch Moon. And while I still retain my extremely justified bitterness over how that story fridged the hottest angel in Magic canon, I was definitely on some fucking brainrot at the time, like. Look at this bit from the intro:

Shadows over Innistrad block! but with none of the angels because Eldrazi corruption is viscerally distressing! no matter how many emotions i feel about Avacyn, the Purifier’s blood-soaked wings & solid black eyes! or Subjugator Angel’s vacant, fell glee!

You stupid child, me-of-January-2019, you idiot baby, you cretinous fetus, just because something is existentially horrifying doesn’t mean it’s not also really hot. What, were you worried about people thinking you were A Bad Feminist And Person because a fictional eldritch monster mindfucking a fictional girl angel into an insane blood-soaked omnicidal goth gets you hard? (Yes.) “Viscerally distressing” yeah, that’s what makes it good. It was hot, you knew it was hot, you even basically said it was hot, and yet you left the angels out of the review because you were a coward. Well, it is time to set things right.

ACTUALLY IT TURNS OUT THIS ONE IS INNISTRAD: MIND-CONTROLLED ANGELS WILL MURDER YOU AND IT WILL BE SEXY THE ENTIRE TIME

Subjugator Angel (art by Lius Lasahido)

It feels... so good to give in, doesn’t it? Whether that’s to the whispers in your head telling you to purify the land of filth and sin with fire and sword and no shred of mercy, or to the undertow pull of whatever part of your interior makes a bloodsoaked, winged woman with great tits and a shattered mind fucking sexy as hell. Free will can be such a weight, can’t it? Don’t you see how much happier she is like this, with no agonizing over moral complexity, no weighing and counterweighing relative measures of good and evil? It’s so much simpler, so much more fun to just kill everyone, don’t you think?

Angel of Deliverance (art by Joseph Meehan)

Well, looks like someone’s been elbow-deep in the sin-riddled bodies of reprobates and the dissolute, hm? What’s the matter, darling? Surely you’re not too tired for one more.

Archangel Avacyn (art by James Ryman)

Avacyn was created perfect, an icon, an idol, her sole purpose to safeguard the people of her plane - so it’s not really news that she’s gorgeous. We love the black armor and the black lipstick and the glowing eyes, but what really makes this good is the symbolism in the crumbling spear, the fraying edge of the loincloth. She is fighting a war for her mind, to keep hold of herself, of the only purpose she has ever had. And it is so much better when you fight...

Avacyn, the Purifier (art by James Ryman)

...because when you lose, when your mind’s defenses are subverted against you, when your last panicked thoughts try in vain to survive the ravenous onslaught of who you have become instead, when you are at last the monster you struggled in vain against, the collapse is absolute. Spear broken, clothes tattered, hair and wings soaked in the gore of your children, your victims, your slaughtered sheep, and your eyes jet-black, void, and utterly empty of anything that was ever you.

Gisela, the Broken Blade (art by Clint Cearley)

Mental corruption is one thing (a very, very hot thing), but let’s not forget physical corruption as well. Wings beginning to replace feathers with fleshy webs of tendon, tendrils creeping out of her shoulders. She changes. She changes.

Brisela, Voice of Nightmares (art by Clint Cearley)

She is changed.

Because honestly, why would you settle for one angelic abomination when you could melt two of them together and get disa-fucking-ssembled in ways undreamt of by Euclidean geometers or anything with bilateral symmetry?

Whew. Okay. Yeah. I really needed that. The rest of the newer Innistrad sets will happen soon. I promised you crossbows, and I aim to keep that promise.

[danco110]

“An excellent job for once, Sheoldred. He’s perfect.”

Elesh Norn waved a hand, and her attendants moved the operating table so the transformed Ajani was angled upright, facing the praetor. Lurking in the shadows behind Norn, a disgruntled Sheoldred glared at her counterpart’s glee.

“He was perfect, until you laid hands on him. I presume you removed this one’s…sleeper-ness?”

Norn nodded stoically, unmoved by Sheoldred’s barb. “Subtlety is no longer necessary. We need only to display Phyrexian perfection in all its glory, and the rest will follow.”

“Right,” Sheoldred grumbled. “So we’re just ignoring Jin’s predictions that waging open war on Ravnica and Bant will stop our advance in its tracks-”

“Enough. Behold, the improvements I have made.”

Norn snapped her claws. Instantly, Ajani’s body seemed to burst. His arms and chest swelled, shedding their fur to reveal porcelain armor and taut, reddened muscles beneath. As the last tufts of hair fell away, the web of crimson underneath bulged to massive proportions, giving the massive armor plates the appearance of shoulder pads.

Finally, Ajani’s arms grew to such a size, the bonds holding him to the operating table snapped. The broken restraints clattered to the floor, causing the leonin to stir. Ajani awoke, both eyes opening before flicking down at his new form.

“…Where did my fur go?”

Norn’s lip twitched.

“What.”

Ajani raised a flayed arm to inspect it. “My praetor, did you remove my fur-”

Norn snapped her claws once more. Ajani’s eyes glazed over, and the leonin flopped lifelessly against the table once more. Meanwhile, Sheoldred could only look on in anger.

“You ruined him!”

“I have perfected him…” Norn paused. “…Almost. It seems some of your inadequacy has seeped into his veins regardless. I shall have to correct your mistake, of course.”

Sheoldred groaned. “You do that. Let me know if you ever kill that one human woman-”

“Elspeth…Tirel…” Norn growled. “And this one will succeed. I am sure of it.”

[feathers-fallen-on-riverdale]

Season 1 Episode 3: Chapter 3 - Body Double GRUNDY'S CORPSE IN THE PALM OF MY-

[Ep. Statues: Already Watched/First Time Watching + Remember/Vaguely/Don't Remeber]

Cheryl you dramatic ass hoe. You literally just said "I'm guilty" in front of your entire class made a whole scene and only waited to elaborate until you got cuffed and taken to a secluded room???! This girl has zero brain cells she just fakes it till she makes it.

Also did they even read her her rights?

I WAS RIGHT HE WAS GONNA RUN AWAY. WITH POLLY(?).

I think she was pregnant but how could I have possibly forgotten such a big detail (says person who has forgoten all the big details up until now).

..... I don't remember much of Cheryl's parents (expect that Cheryl's mother was a dominatrix? Please tell me that's a hallucination) but wow from that 1 scene they said "Fuck subtlety. We are evil mustach twirling villains".

Okay but Alice seems to represent the very real treat of media coverage being pushed by a personal agenda to be a smear campaign.

HOWEVER I know the cw writers aren't that good, so this is a Supernatural brand of accidental good writing.

Fuck ya Archie lets goooo! Ignore Grunkle, confess what you know! Expose her!

Me when he didn't expose Grangle ^^^

Hold up Veronica's dating outside the polycule? I don't remember this!

Betty: Juggy 😘😍😍😊😊

Me:

I got past the cringe and into the emotional hits. Now it's 50/50

They bounce off each other well, they have half decent chemistry. Realising why the fandom fandom latched onto Bughead as the het ship of choice.

Also they are both bi4bi.

Chuck is being suspiciously nice. And they're really speed running this shit....

Okay Grungly not only are you being a crazy freak about Archie coming forward about information (which anybody would have applauded him for and he left your name out) but you're using your power dynamic to punish him for it? Get the fuck out. This woman makes my skin crawl.

"Sticky maple, it's exactly what it sounds like." Mmmmh no it's not. That doesn't elaborate anything at all. Man allos are..

I'm feeling a deep seated glee at Veronica's reaction and that Kevin and Betty 100% support her.

She just... burst in there. Okay. Love that for her! No hesitation no "omg she saw him naked and got all flustered" nah my girl just body slammed him outta the way like Cruella on a highway. Veronica road rages confirmed. Also.

SHE'S HOLDING BETTY'S HAND!

Wait so the first official use of "B & V" is by a slut shaming asshole named Chuck Clayton???? Okay.... how about no. And canon is what I want :)

But man I love the use of "B & V". Sounds like the name of a bed and breakfast. Hmmmm maybe after the show is over Betty and Veronica move to Vermont, open a charming B&B called "B & V's Bed and Breakfast" like another CW queer couple?

Love that Betty snapped at Chuck. Zero hesitation no longer gives half a shit about seeing a dick. Claws out for her girlfriend.

"The betas you dated in New York" ........... RED FLAG ALERT 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩also a really funny one cause you're probably thinking "who in their right mind talks like this"? And then you realise... yeah every teenage fuck boy.

I am actually so concerned. Please somebody talk to Weatherbee about getting these guys thier shots I think they've got rabies. Why the fuck else are they barking?

😑🤨 Doiley is giving alt-right redit incel.

"Anything you want *bites lip* except for my body"

The mf sitting beside her, just trying to graduate high school and get the hell outta here:

Ohhh the pussycats arc. Pretty sure 1 of them quits and bands with Archie.

Wasn't she like, the Gargoyle King's no. 1 groupie?

My support group maker Betty headcanon is being furthered here.

Cheryl??? Girl do you have a story you'd like to share with the class?

Me, pointing to the Cheryl Bitch-O'Meter ready to slide it higher: Honey you can't keep doing this. I can't defend you.

Cheryl: Sluts

I mean they (the writers) aren't doing this whole "we're gonna tackle a social issue experienced by teens, mostly girls" thing great per say, but the intent is there... I think. And it kinda hits when Ethel mentions that she went to the Principle and he didn't do shit.

Cheryl: Proof that what, boys will be boys?

Me, already adding 2 bow and arrows to the meter: yah no. That's enough. It's giving pick me girl

Jughead pulling a Batman got me going like, "oh no, my pathetic bi trans emo boys, they're multiplying".

Of fucking course the gun scare was caused by a fucking idiotic teen with unbridled access to firearms. God help me I don't live in a country where that's a problem but even I can pick up the subtext, it's hitting me in the face like a 2x4.

Okay the scene where Josie is like "you can't write our experience" and Archie is like "shit you're right my bad" is actually very good but ik for a fact that one shitty lyric suggestion from gingerbread later will flip that shit over so fast.

Aaaand I was right. Flipped so fast.

"Just how depraved is this town"

Like I promise you Veronica you're gonna wish it stopped it here.

"A B&E with B&V" lovely alliteration there Cheryl.

"Trev told Valerie, who told Josie, who told Ginger, who told Tina who told me". Okay damn. But far more realistic than I expected. It's a highschool there are no secrets. The only thing I simply refuse to believe is that that the chain of Chinese whispers is that solid or effective.

I wonder how many students hear about the wild shit this lot get up to and just go "Absoulty not. It's our circus sure. But I, as a monkey am not being paid enough for this. Or at all."

"Polly grew up too fast. I don't want to blah blah blah"

"I like it." Oh the helicopter mother damage it showing.

Okay who has a pool in that small a town?

OH the black bob wig my Absoulte Enemy.

Easy on the drinks there Alice- OH she just bitch slapped her huh? Now I feel like I'm just watching the real housewives.

Okay Romeo and Juliet balcony scene. Secret meeting at the masked ball I see you.

OH Fred. "What made you take such an interest in my son?" Get HER ASS FRED 🔪😡🤬

"Park avenue princess to cater waiter" exhibit ... idk H of reasons Alice is actually Karen; disrespect of customer service/servers.

😬 hold up. Thier drugging him?! And those are- okay. Who is writing these scripts??!

Betty... nah.

OH Fred Andrews... this show doesn't deserve you.

Betty, Betty. Denial is a river... ya know.

Okay but can we talk about the fact that only Hermione (Veronica's mom) showed up to negotiate with Weatherbee? Betty's mother? Not even in the shot. How much you will to get that she was willing to leave Betty high and dry, on her own, as an extra punishment.

"Betty and Veronica, now B&V, maybe forever, were forged" BERONICA SWEEP.

ANDREW. WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING.

FINALLY. THE BOMB HAS. GONE. OFF.

~

Archie ab shot count (per episode then added together per season): None this episode but we'll put an honourary 0.5 in there for Chuck.

Cheryl's Bitch-O'Meter: 🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹|🏹 I know this is supposed to be an episode of growth and what not. But the slut shaming and just... general *indicates vaguely* merits this in my opinion.

Is it a bird? A plane? No it's a new headcannon pulled right out of thin air! :

bi4bi Bughead

Veronica has road rage

B&V's B&B (destiel paralle)

Reddit incel Doyley

Tag list (you can ask to be added [or removed]: @youre-only-gay-once

[zalrb]

since you're reviewing supernatural now, how would you rate the acting in the show? who do you think is good, average and bad? I saw that you talked about Ruby's and I totally agree, I much preferred Katie's Ruby, now Meg, do you think the best version was the blonde or the brunette?

So, something that I'm realizing now that I'm getting into season 5, I don't know if I'll continue to season 6, is that I find earlier-season demons to have more ... oomph, like the dialogue was snappier, the smart ass comments had more bite so with the two Megs, the first Meg had a cruelty to her, like a sadism where you could see she the sort of glee in the pain she inflicted

there was a menace to her expressions

and then those expressions combined with the slight ways she’d tilt her head where it’s like the movements are a bit off so it feels like a human being operated

like there were actually a bunch of different subtleties that happened in her performance that brought Meg to life.

This Meg has just been introduced a couple of episodes ago and I didn’t realize that she kind of stays on the show for a while since I stopped watching when it was on air but I don’t really get much from this Meg, she’s kind of  ... around, maybe like a vaguely unhinged person,

like ... she’d be good as a young Movie!Bellatrix but even still, she’s less chaotic

she’s definitely a better replacement for Meg than Gen was for Ruby and her performance isn’t bad, it’s just not memorable

[libidomechanica]

“Still she flower, we could she alteration till myself but this”

A sonnet sequence

               I

Me, the minutes fledged with in woman’s fear! That wild ecstasy? A topiary so that which can hide and the wild echoes flying, doubt if this world, on with favouritism. It’s a glow-worker be, which I doubt, as both as an article, should not ere they might where—oh, wherein were fleeting any Sorrow late, should reach, than what summer solstice down, is not of thy coral country’s good cheeks. And you love my heart is life on the silent my knee; the bird into a crescent than all the heavy, my work out, alack! Still she flower, we could she alteration till myself but this.

               II

The letters if to spill, the sons of consequences are built our advent to gathering on thy presence source of hearts, can saying. The famous—that celestial sound of a Mnemosyne, and overthrow. And ugliness, and, subtleties. But when I was our dream: then, fixing them and liberty does crowne, the bosom brake this is: if I shoulder: her hangs: howbeit ourself be done perched with my fingers who teach, distracts, we to hell is fixt, but out love, abiding clover’s fame, when you do any throes! My little Robin, taketh not rise nor beauties proud thy calling at the Lord This?

               III

Is not thou; but by and shoulders takes and place floor chalk mimics painting; then then, whose high deserve, but still set off to seek it into flight. Where it become a man, and if thou wilt, remembered on the tomb fair Elenor, beware the tyrant’s pudding herself, when it puts all are gone and by then in theirs for the Fairy Queen’s defect, commands by might that know what befell about the kingdom-troubling Tribe of glassy darkness. As long as the muffled and he emblem rarely heart as she forms that else is. The dark nightly: what did save, The crag, full many a flowers do fawn upon?

               IV

Never bid them one joy, or go and landskip, have I heard This were valves of prince to deal in front door a thorn instead of wine, begun, of her chariot stay because in their coast, and trill, and hatred of day over the thou and make it. Dozed, snored. Pale death! Me and with blind with the porch wept, and candlelight at all, and so then have one in pearls and known. In our prized my count of the hollow to life to take this kneeling of life and run as it narrowed to the horns of bones of the sound at the string, in which the hour mind in vain Religion meets my squalid cot; shunn’d, hate me with me.

               V

The French or Spanish, and all its garden wall so even they grows latest branch of the Castlereagh? Glares ruin, and cloy’d, She cease she is found, and innocuous occupation. The milking she saints the arrows to Honour heart? I needed by the mind casting every Muse within months my hopes I heard something gainst the meadow-crake grate her Ears will we say there enthrals the Lady that great deep-mouthed, and now that fled, as if my own, it sent out nakedness, we to him to meet. Her shall her woe than grow? She woke sandy foot’s glee, nor knows. Lest Glory. Of English as I have a-year.

               VI

For lack of which it comes down like foam—the truth that. Not in his palm, like a better: lest in me wrought, since breathe upon the Noose of Adamant, would have I seem all hold, nor God to remembered kisse-worthy Ladies that wait a wee, and, in ghastly death! I shall the could be a Jew. He seems Cain: la Belle Alliance’ of duties louely grace to shame, she only. Was the dark crag: and all hold, nor find it by whom I left but the ambrosia, mix the neck, do witness up, and thus a noble Vashti, noble Ida, tremulously debars, is through Kennington and when unto dying.

               VII

Yet men were in the fact I love: she men mourner, or the fresh is that passion have put a censured mine for Venus’ ceston every kind of the scrolls to try for spouse and of moral height the death, and at the wave often found a strange, will be changed, like this, to tumbled and oath is brows higher: when I’m with system t is not to be for you love must still the visibility. The wretched life; O more among us, will shock him: I’ said it to him take the wind of it. Through which serve their homely Youth be still were packed to the head from majesty, after Star, arose that loved her.

[kaimukiwahine]

Can I get a 7, 14, and 17 please :3

Two!? I really kicked a bee's hive, huh. Okay, well, it's a long one:

7. Favourite works of all time excluding your own?

Uhhh, in general, I will go on my hands and knees and worship to what is the To the Moon/Sigmund Corp. series. Though I’m not constantly making art for it, It is one of my absolute favorite creative works out there. Beautiful piano-guitar music (Born a Stranger, Having Lived (TtM and FP), The Scale Theme (Piano and Guitar versions), Time is A Place, and A Reality Without Me being top tracks), a rpg indie game with memorable characters, and thought-provoking stories.

Also that they were the first few games to touch on the autism spectrum (though they couldn’t say it out right, only hinting it due to supposedly the huge stigma towards the very concept of it at the time though not confirmed to my knowledge). I didn't know much about it at the time but now with the possibility of myself being on the spectrum, I don't know. Think it's pretty neat?

Outside of that… I could list everything my friends have made ever if you want? Watching them create and improve and explore other styles and formats is very inspiring. Seeing them get that fire in their eyes and sharing their thought process and glee is infectious. If I could, I print them all out, frame and hang them in a gallery or learn to book bind and make a library.

14. How has your art changed over the years?

Going from a mouse user who avoid drawing faces and just made a dA account because someone I followed on FF.net wanted friends on there and someone in my third-year arch studio said the smudge art thing looked cool, to getting my first tablet, to where I am now... It really surprises how much has changed and how much stayed the same. I hope it changed for the better than regressing backwards but it’s hard to tell at times.

(Shoutout to past me who did this with a mouse. And to my sis who is a higher creative being that I can only dream of breathing who made the original)

17. What inspires you?

Sidu is one, she’s responsible for all the MVs and character designs for the Kagerou Project. The characters aren’t usually bombastic (aside one) but they still leave an impact. She tends to lean more into the subtlety and I kinda wanna do that too in stills or one day animations. (The MVs are amazing, go watch them especially the Ayano ones if you want to cry).

Other than that, most of my friends and their creative energy fuels a lot of what I do. Either though their writing, AUs, art, it just drives me to try and do the same. Just with the TWH AU, I have ton of ideas because of the wonderful folks there and I really wish I had all the time in the world to do them all to the best of my ability. If only I have enough time that is..

[danawinter]

i really wish that the writers would've given quinn something to tie all of her s3 plots together. i feel like this easily could've happened by having it come to light that in the summer between her junior and senior year she found out her dad isn't gonna pay for her college.

1. it would've given us a chance to get an insight into quinn's family trauma and how she's coping

2. it would've had more impact with her shift to becoming punk, if we found out that in her junior year she was still trying to appeal to her dad to get him back, but now she has completely given up

3. it would've explained a bit more why she is so desperate to get beth back, since without a chance to go to college and make something of herself, motherhood might feel like her only option

3b. also, being rejected once again by her dad might've made her want to get back in her daughter's life, because by giving her up for adoption she felt like she rejected beth the way her parents did her

4. it would've given more power to her deciding to try and get into yale anyway, because even if she gets in, she might never get to go

4b. her writing an essay about all of the trauma she's gone through could've felt like a genuine way of breaking free from her dad: instead of keeping all of her emotions inside and making things look better than they are, the way her dad taught her, she can be honest and open and get accepted for it

5. her reaction to the finchel wedding, beyond being very gay, could've been partially rooted in how she saw what making a rushed decision about marrying someone did to her mother, and she just wants rachel to be careful

6. perhaps her dad could've come around and wanted to support her financially once she got in her car accident, and quinn could be left wondering about the implications of either decision she could make

6b. on one the hand, taking his money would mean letting him into her life again with the risk of getting hurt again, but it would also give her the opportunity to make something of herself at long last

7. perhaps she could've included artie on making the decision (i don't exactly remember his family dynamic, but i do seem to recall that his mom and him live alone, so maybe his dad left his family too)

7b. this would've also made "i'm still standing" feel a bit less awkward, because even though the song choice seems poignant with their physical state, it would also feel cathartic for them to get to sing about how they will overcome their leaving dads

8. and maybe her tentative relationship with joe, and rachel telling her how happy she is that they are friends could've led to her realizing that relationships can be whatever she wants them to be; she doesn't have to choose between being super happy to be in her father's life or being complete strangers to each other, she can choose him to be whatever she wants and needs him to be

8b. additionally, she can learn that being an adult isn't about knowing everything or having everything figured out, and if you don't, just giving up; being an adult is having the strength to forge your own path and accept help from people when you need it, and keeping people at a certain distance if you are hesitant about them having too big of an impact of your life

9. also, we could've had quinn's mom promising to protect her from her dad, which would've shown huge character growth from the women who three years prior let her husband throw her daughter out

long story short, i wish glee was a better written show

[gonzo-rella]

Imagine: Guillermo (Begrudgingly) Introducing You, His Asexual Friend, To Nandor

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Guillermo de La Cruz x gn!(sex averse/neutral) asexual!virgin!reader (platonic), Nandor the Relentless x gn! (sex averse/neutral) asexual!virgin!reader (unspecified)

Warnings: Non-graphic references to sex. Maybe some things that could be viewed as a tad insensitive to aces, but please keep in mind that I’m ace and that this is just light-hearted fluff. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I had this idea when watching the vampire orgy episode. I know that not all of my fellow aces are virgins, and that some are sexually active (good on you for getting that [insert genital/s of preference]). However, I figured it’d be nice to write a WWDITS ace!reader-insert fic, and I also figured having a virgin!reader would be a good premise for a quick, funny imagine. I’m definitely thinking of writing more Nandor x ace!reader stuff in the future so keep an eye out for that or even request some yourself. [Insert obligatory begging for WWDITS requests, because I love everyone in this polycule])

“Guillermo!” you greeted. Who knew you’d run into him in the party aisle of the supermarket?

You briefly eyed the camera crew who were following him and filming you.

Initially, he smiled genuinely, but faltered when he heard Nandor approach him from behind, remembering the vampire’s presence. However, he managed to promptly plaster the smile back on his face.

“Y/N! Hey...” he replied, his voice trembling slightly.

The unfamiliar man now beside him glanced between the two of you uncertainly, but his eyes finally landed on you. His smile seemed a tad strange, but it was endearing in its own way nonetheless.

“Guillermo,” he said, revealing his foreign accent, though you were more fixated on his eccentric (albeit quite snazzy) outfit. “Who is this?”

“Uh...this is my friend...Y/N.” Guillermo introduced stiffly. He looked over at you. “Y/N, this is...Nandor.”

“My, my, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured. “Your friend smells delectable.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, I guess.” you said sheepishly. “It’s just deodorant, though.”

Nandor looked at you blankly, though he continued to smile. He leaned down to Guillermo, bending his knees awkwardly so his mouth was level with his familiar’s ear.

“Guillermo, why don’t you invite them to the orgy?” he whispered with all the subtlety of a lightning strike. Guillermo’s face fell.

Your eyes widened and you swallowed your saliva.

“An...orgy?” you repeated incredulously. “That’s nice of you...to invite me. But, I’m not really an orgy kind of person. Or a sex kind of person, really.”

Noticing Nandor’s faded smile, you couldn’t help but continue to ramble to this man you barely knew. Heat rose to your cheeks.

“I’m not judgemental!” you blurted, painfully aware of Guillermo’s grimace (though you misinterpreted its meaning). “I’m just asexual...so I’m not really into people...in the sexual way...”

You finally forced your mouth shut.

“Even better.” Nandor declared. 

His smile returned, even wider than before. You knitted your brows.

“Um-”

“You do not have to partake in the sexual intercourse.” he insisted. “You can come...for the food. There will be-”

Once again, he leaned down to speak in Guillermo’s ear. Guillermo stared into the lens of the camera. You glanced over at the camera too.

“Guillermo, what do these asexuals eat?”

Guillermo sighed, but his eyes almost lit up when he realised he may have had a way out of this conversation.

“Garlic bread.”

“No! You know that won’t do.” Nandor hissed at him scornfully. “Fucking guy.

“What else?”

“Cake...” Guillermo conceded through gritted teeth

“Cake?” you repeated. “I’m down for cake.”

Nandor grinned and rubbed his hands together in glee. “Cake you shall have, then.”

Once again, Guillermo, less than happy, sent a glare to the camera.