#grasshopper posture

[yogadaily]

(via Pinterest  || Curated with love by yogadaily) 

[paarksunghoon]

super hard & horny jake with sleeping f reader

for all the ppl out there who might be startled reading this request, please know that my works always contain consent even if it’s not explicit between the characters (i.e. previously discussed or part of the plot).

***

“Babe, are you awake?”

Jake’s voice echoes throughout the quiet of his bedroom. He can faintly hear the quiet chirps of the grasshoppers from outside and peers down at your sleeping figure beside him.

You look so peaceful like this, cheek squished against his pillows with one leg propped in a triangle. Your lips pucker into a pout and Jake admires your sleeping form.

It’s too bad, though. He’s so hard he can’t enjoy his girlfriend in his bed properly.

“Baby, please wake up.”

Jake puts his hand on your waist and gives you a squeeze but you don’t budge. His eyes trail over that t-shirt you borrowed from him and gives you another squeeze when his fingers have dipped underneath the fabric. But you still don’t wake up, not even with his hands all over you.

He looks down at his lap and sees his cock straining against his boxers from the wet dream he had before waking up. Jake whines quietly when your body does shift, even though he’s pushing his hand up higher until your naked bottom half is presented to him.

You can use me, is what you said to him one Thursday night while completely sober. I’m into it if you’re the one waking me up.

And, well, Jake is down to try almost anything at your request. He loves you that much.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself as he stands from the bed to rid himself of his plaid boxers. From the foot of the bed, Jake slowly peels the blanket off of your body and spreads your legs until your pussy is presented to him. Still careful with his movements, he sees that you haven’t woken up.

“Really? After all that?”

Your stillness doesn’t deter him. Jake moves himself back onto the bed and pushes his face until he’s able to stick his tongue out and lick you. Dry. You’re dry. But you won’t be by the time he’s pushing his cock into you.

“So soft,” he mumbles with his eyes closing shut. Jake pulls himself from you to check on your status. You’re still asleep.

“Wake up.” Jake sticks his tongue inside of your folds and massages your inner walls before licking fat stripes up and down your pussy in repeated motions to spread his spit all over you. “Need you so bad.”

He pulls away from you and situates himself behind your body, pulling you up until you’re somewhat arched. Jake takes himself in his hand and watches a wad of spit drop from his mouth to your slit until he’s rubbing his tip over you.

Jake sees you stirring. Your eyes blink open as if to assess the hour of the night like you were expecting it to be bright out. You shift until Jake pushes his tip inside of you and he bends down to kiss just below your ear as he pushes the rest of himself inside of you.

“What’s going on—ohhh.”

“I’m so horny, baby,” he whispers against your neck. Jake props himself up on his palms and thrusts into you until you’re voluntarily arching your back against his chest. “You didn’t wake up for me.”

“It’s okay,” you moan lowly. “I like waking up to this.”

“Yeah? You like waking up and feeling my hard cock inside you?” To make a point, Jake pushes himself forward abruptly and relishes in your gasp.

“Mhm.” You fall back down on the pillow below you but keep your posture for him. You feels the weight of his hips slinging like he’s close.

“Had a dream about us.”

“Oh yeah? What were we doing?”

“Exactly this,” Jake moans. “Fuck, you feel so good. So good.”

He barely pays attention to you, too focused on his pleasure to care about anything else. You love when he gets so lost in his euphoria that you’re almost an after thought because it always leads to mind blowing sex once the guilt settles in. You don’t really care that he gets off before you do from time to time. What follows is his magical mouth and fingers, sometimes together.

You arch your back even deeper until it feels like your ass is pressing back against him. Jake pushes his hips into you harder and faster until he pulls out and spills all over your folds. His cum is warm and sticky. Jake can’t help but gaze at you in wonder as he pushes his release around until you’re pressing yourself back against him.

Jake doesn’t need to ask you if you’re up for another round with the way you moan as he sinks right back into you.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[ilium-ilia]

Daughters with Soft Underbellies

john price x fem!reader | cowboy/outlaw x preachers daughter | masterlist

Chapter Four: daddy needs his lunch

tw: threats, minor threats of non-con, minor character death, surprise austrian death

The remnants of your life rattles in your lap as you trot along campestral American terrain. 

You sit on the back of Kyle’s horse—a large, sweet beast named Bear—with your carpet bag on your lap and your legs thrown over the side of the animal. Unforgiving heat plagues the back of your neck as the mid-morning sun reaches high into the beryl sky, beating down and baking the earth and you along with it. Anxious hands grip your bag as you keep your head down, eyes staring at the sage brush and thickets that pass you by. Grasshoppers jump through the air as the earth around them is disturbed. You smile as their wings flap. The dirt looks just the same as it does in Penmosa, but the air smells fresher without the livestock to kick up muck. 

It’s been hours since you’ve departed from the camp, and a single word has yet to leave your mouth. Your rump aches from your uncomfortable seat, but you keep your kvetching to nothing more than a thought in the back of your mind. Really, you’re glad that you’re here with Kyle rather than any of the other men. Riley intimidates you, Soap is too odd and mouthy, and John Price makes your skin crawl with a nervosity you can’t quite name. 

Quiet chatter bleeds from the front of the pack where John Price leads the way as you cut through untraveled lands, but it sounds like buzzing flies to you. Unimportant. Something not meant for your ears. You keep your head down and mouth closed as you allow them to chat away. As the horse sways, you remind yourself that you’re nothing but a guest here. 

(It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.)

The only thing you’ve been able to think about all morning—despite the fact you’re absolutely looney for traveling with such disgraceful men—is how you missed Daddy’s sermon this morning. You wonder if the church feels quiet with your absence. You wonder if he even realizes the gaping hole left in the pews. Your fingers gingerly reach for the cross on your necklace as if your guilt can absolve you from your skin. 

“Awfully quiet back there,” Kyle suddenly hums. His voice has your head perking and back straightening. Angry muscles tighten along your spine from your poor posture, but you hide your wince. “Doing alright back there?” 

You aren’t aware of how dry your mouth is until you swallow. “Yes, thank you,” you answer monotonously. 

“Comfortable?” he presses. 

“It’s a little warm,” you admit. 

Kyle nods in agreement. “There’s a canteen in my saddle pack if you need it.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Course,” he shrugs. “Exposure can kill just as easily as a bullet. Need to keep yourself fed and watered if you wanna survive out here.” 

You’re embarrassed by how quickly your fingers reach for the clasp on his pack. It comes undone with a simple flick of your fingers, and you’re eagerly reaching for the leather canteen before your mind can fully process it. It’s not cold, but it is fresh. As you take a sip, you let the water sit on your tongue, hoping it’ll rehydrate your mouth and bring it back to life. 

“You got a hat?” Kyle asks as you put the canteen back. 

“Afraid not,” you murmur. You pause as you secure his saddle pack. “I’ve got a scarf.” 

“You should put it over your head,” he recommends. “The sun can be brutal out here on cloudless days like today.” 

Taking Kyle’s advice, you rummage through your carpet bag until you find your headscarf. It’s made of thin, dainty silk that you put over your head and tie under your chin with ease. You pray the sun’s rays haven’t done too much damage to your skin, but the reprieve lets you breathe easier. 

“I hope Riley didn’t scare you too much last night,” Kyle then says. “He can be rather crass at times, but I promise he’s all bark and no bite. Well, concerning us, anyway.” 

“It’s alright,” you assure. “After all, I was the one who trespassed.” 

“I thought you were just wandering?” Kyle teasingly goads. 

“Well, the trespassing was an accident.” 

“Of course.” 

Bear interrupts your conversation with a peeved huff as the small caravan crosses over a particularly rough patch of terrain. His hooves slip over the chossy terrain, kicking rocks on either side of him, but he manages to keep steady. Kyle coos as he leans forward, hand patting the animal along his neck to calm him. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you murmur just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. 

“Didn’t you already?” Kyle deadpans. 

You huff. “Well, another one.” 

“Of course.” 

“Why the… you know. The mask? It’s a little off putting.” 

Kyle’s shoulders hunch before falling limp. He leans back with a sigh, but straightens himself back up when he feels himself bump into you. “Dunno. Guess he was accused of killing his family back home in Manchester. England, yeah? Showing his face would get him accosted, or worse. I think he’s just grown used to wearing it, that's all.” 

“He killed his family?” you repeat, hushed. 

“Oh, course not. No, he’d never. His family meant everything to him. Simon spent weeks tracking down the people who framed him and killed them. Settled the scores, and avenged his family. Couldn’t quite clear his name, though. He’s a good man,” Kyle recalls. 

“Is that why he’s here? To get away from that?” you question. 

He shrugs. “Part of it, I suppose.” 

You nod your head as you adjust the scarf on your head from falling past your hairline. “What about you?” 

“Why am I here?” Kyle clarifies. “Price was about all I had back in England. Lost my parents from consumption. Well, my dad died from consumption, but mum’s pneumonia wasn’t much easier. He’s taught me everything I know, so when he left, I did too.” 

Your throat grows tight as he reminisces about his parents—about their deaths. You pull your carpet bag closer to your chest as you shift on the horse, as if your pitiful belongings can be of any comfort to you. 

“I’m sorry about your family,” you offer. 

“Yeah, me too,” Kyle sighs. 

You swallow and change the subject. “So then, Mr. Price?” 

A long pause settles between the two of you as you come to a vast, verdant pasture. Bear begins to move smoother on the kinder land, and you notice you’re not being jostled around as much as you were previously. Wildflowers brighten the slade with vivid yellows and purples, and suddenly the sun no longer feels quite as overbearingly warm. 

“It’s a long story,” he finally relents. 

“Oh,” you chirp. 

It’s difficult to hide your disappointment at his evasion—it soaks your tone until it’s dripping wet. Feeling how your letdown emanates from your bones, Kyle looks over his shoulder at you before nodding at the short train of horses ahead. 

“Soap’s also got a long story,” he explains. “I dunno much about it, if I’m being honest. All I know is that he doesn’t seem too keen on returning to Scotland.” 

“He’s a curious man,” you note. 

“That’s a polite way to put it,” Kyle deadpans. 

“Is that why his accent is different? Because he’s from Scotland?” you wonder. 

He nods. “Yeah, he’s up further north than any of the rest of us.” 

“Is that why his hair is so strange, too?” 

Kyle’s laughter is so forceful that it nearly scares you out of your seat. He manages to calm himself quick enough so as to not garner too much attention from the others, but his words still titter. 

“No, I think it’s because no one’s been brave enough to tell him otherwise,” he humors. 

The mirth Kyle shares with you is so contagious that you catch yourself chuckling as you sway on the back of his horse. Now content with knowing that you’re well hydrated, he allows silence to fall between the two of you once more as the small band of outlaws, cowboys, and a wayward woman continues to cut through the lush pasture. 

A duo of deer stand proudly along the environs of a small weald that skirts the edge of the pasture. Perking up, you blink at the creatures as they curiously watch you pass by. One of the deer—a beautiful doe with a wiggling, wet nose—prods at her young calf, but the boy does not seem alarmed at all. He stares, unwavering, before eventually listening to his mother and returning into the safety of uncultivated trees and bushes. 

After another mile or so, the speed of the caravan begins to dwindle, and you find your body leaning to look around Kyle. John Price has his head held high as he surveys the land with his horse stopped. She whinnies as he orders for her to trot in a circle, and he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied with what he sees—a lack of people. 

“Right then. What do you say, boys? Lunch time?” he prompts as he looks back at his crew. 

When everyone begins to nod and grunt in agreement, they quickly dismount. Kyle awkwardly manages to swing his leg over Bear’s back without kicking you, then he offers you his hand to aid you down. The moment your feet hit the earth, you feel every muscle in your body scream. Your tailbone pops as you stretch your legs, and your bum feels numb. Sighing, you place your carpet bag down before stretching your arms high into the sky as if you could cup the sun into the palm of your hands. 

It’s then that you realize most of your pain comes from more than just riding a horse through the hardly civilized backyard of the United States. Though you’re not particularly disfigured, your cheek still throbs with that dull ache, and your scraped knees scream at you when you bend them a certain way. The skin is still angry, and its sting is hard to ignore when you walk. But there is a pleasant breeze, and the wildflowers wave at you as you adjust the skirt of your dress. This country is as good of an emollient as any, and your father’s steeple isn’t even here to ruin the view. 

“Hungry?” 

John Price’s voice has your head whipping to the side so fiercely that your scarf falls down the back of your head. You don’t even bother to fix it as he stares at you expectantly with his arms extended. In his hands lies more of the same jerky you were given last night for dinner, along with a generous amount of hardtack. 

“Thank you, Mr. Price,” you murmur. As you take the food into your hands, your thumb swipes over the hardtack, forcing a few crumbs to flutter into the uncut grass at your feet. You wonder if this would count as your daily bread. 

“Just John is fine,” he waves. You stare down at your food as you wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. Thumbs hooked into his belt buckle, he continues to stare at you. “How’s your cheek?” 

Blinking, you look up at him and fight back the urge to press at the wound. “It’s fine.” 

John hums. “The swelling isn’t too bad.” 

“Yes, it’s… fine,” you repeat, gauche. 

Still, he does not leave. Harsh, cobalt eyes wander over every inch of your face before he trails lower. His gaze sears your skin as it settles on your throat, and then your collarbones. When you shift, uncomfortable under the pin of his gawking, he looks back up at you. 

“Ought to keep that necklace of yours hidden,” he recommends. 

Looking down, you witness the way the charm on your necklace glints in the glory of the sun. It’s so bright it nearly burns. “Why?” you ask. 

“You shouldn’t put stealing past anyone who we might run into out here,” he shrugs. “You might get hurt. Or worse.” 

Swallowing, you feel the sweat on your palms begin to soak into your hardtack. “People would kill over a silly necklace?” 

“I’ve seen people get killed for less, and that’s a fair amount of gold you’re lugging around, little lamb,” he says, his voice grave. “If you won’t take it off, at least keep it tucked underneath your blouse.” 

All you can do is stand there and blink as John walks away, leaving you with your hands full of food and your mind riddled with worry. Shoving salted jerky in your mouth to hold between your teeth, you quickly shove the charm of your necklace between your breasts, keeping it well hidden beneath your clothes. You don’t think your heart could handle losing the only trinket you have left of your mother. 

Only then do you allow yourself to enjoy your meal. As much as one can enjoy hardtack, anyway. It is—well—quite firm against your teeth, and as you bite into it you fear you might crack the enamel and splinter it into a million pieces. It’s bland and salty on your tongue, and you find your lips puckering. No more easier on the jaw but more tasty, you chew on your jerky next. It’s certainly nothing compared to your salted pork—a luxury you can no longer afford now that you’re out in the thick of the heartlands—but it’s enough to fill your stomach and quell its growling. 

Kyle offers you his canteen again when he notices you’ve finished eating, and you use it to wash down the sawdust texture stuck on the insides of your cheeks. Then, you stretch your legs. Miniature daisies dance at your feet as you wander the pasture, and you revel in the kind zephyr that teases the skirt of your dress. 

It’s strange to be here. As if it wasn’t odd enough being in the middle of nowhere with four men you don’t know, it’s even worse knowing that you should be working. Pews need cleaning, and Daddy needs his lunch—something you always prepare—and here you are, enjoying a makeshift picnic with a band of outlaws and crooks. Teeth sink into the flesh of your lip, and your face throbs. Guilt erodes your chest until your ribs are brittle enough for your heart to puncture, and still you ignore it as if your bones aren’t turning into dust at the soles of your shoes. 

“You hear that?” 

Riley’s gravelly voice cuts through the quiet afternoon, ripping your attention away from the nature around you. He stands staring at the hill on your left with quiet eyes and tense shoulders. Rolls of lush grass sway as it covers the earth better than dirt covers a grave. Riley stares past the hill, eyes squinting at the horizon while his fingers itch for iron. 

“Hear what?” you question. 

He snaps his head in your direction as if he had forgotten all about your existence. Jaw flexing, he motions you away. “Get back,” he bites. “I think someone’s coming.” 

Breath catching in your throat, you quickly fumble with your scarf as you pull it back over your head. His warning has caught the attention of the other men, and they all stare at the same hill that Riley does. Stumbling over a small thicket, you quickly make your way to Bear who’s busy eating his own lunch as his head dips low to graze on the grass. 

You situate yourself next to him just in time to witness someone come up over the hill. A large man on an even larger horse gallops over the horizon. He travels at a leisurely pace, then halts the moment he catches sight of the group. The stranger sits back on his horse, but not even the distance can erase the anger emanating from his body. 

“I think we just found trouble,” Soap murmurs. 

“There’ll be no trouble unless he makes any,” Riley chuckles darkly. 

A single gunshot rings throughout the air, quickly followed by a squeak that rips its way through your throat. The sound echoes over the rolling hills, and it’s enough to get the horses to perk up. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not shooting at us,” Kyle assures. “He fired a round in the air.” 

“He’s headed this way,” Riley huffs. 

John rubs his hand over his chin as he looks back at everyone. His eyes stay on you for longer than what feels comfortable before he brings his attention back to the stranger. “Just be quiet and let me do the talking.” 

It takes the man little time to close the distance with his horse galloping at full speed. Riley’s hands shake with the hardly restrained urge to reach for his gun, but John stands cool with his hands on his belt and a smile on his face. 

The stranger slows the moment he’s within talking distance, and your tongue shrivels up at the sight of him. He’s the largest man you think you’ve ever seen—even larger than Riley. He sits proud and broad on his horse who huffs and puffs with exertion like he’ll be crushed beneath the weight of his master soon enough. Similar to Riley, his face is obscured by an odd mask, though it’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. Nothing short of an executioner’s hood, black cloth obscures the entire circumference of his head and face, excluding two holes in which his pale eyes peer through in a glare. 

“You’re on my property,” the man barks in an odd accent. It’s different from John’s, and even stranger than Soap’s—something else you don’t quite recognize. 

“My apologies,” John chuckles cordially. “We’re just passing through. We thought we could cut through here off of the main trail. We’re in a bit of a hurry.” 

The man adjusts his grip on the reins of his horse, and it’s only then that you see the pistol in his hand. It flashes in the rays of the sun, bright enough to singe your eyes, and despite the heat baking you alive, you feel your blood run cold. 

“Do you think I’m a fool?” he spits. “Do you really expect me to believe that you weren’t aware this was private land? That makes you a trespasser, doesn’t it? And trespassers get shot.” 

John’s shoulders tense through the cotton of his shirt and the leather of his vest. His six shooter sits loud and proud on the side of his hip, yet he doesn’t reach for it. 

“Or,” he says, hands gesturing to either side of his body, “we leave and you never have to see us again.” His voice is too firm for his words to be a suggestion. 

The stranger is quiet for a long moment as if sincerely contemplating John’s offer. His pale eyes scrutinize every detail of his face before glancing at Riley, then to you. His gaze burns you to the point you nearly wince, but you attempt to save face by keeping your feet steady as Bear continues to peacefully graze next to you. 

“Or,” the man counters, “we could make a deal.” 

John hums, sincerely surprised. “Well, I’d never say no to an offer,” he chuckles. “What’s your proposal?” 

“Times are tough. I work these lands with these animals and sparse crops by myself. No ranch hands or workers, just me. I’ve no wife to come home to, or children to raise.” A swift air of arrogance surrounds the man as he holsters his pistol beside his hip. Your head grows light when he points a finger in your direction. “If you let me take that one there, and I’ll consider it fair payment for your trespassing and let the rest of you leave without a bullet in your back.” 

It’s as if every last bit of air has been syphoned from the earth. No matter how much you will your lungs to expand, your diaphragm refuses to relent. Instead, the useless muscle seizes and flutters as you stare at this man and replay his offer over and over in your mind. His words echo just as bad as his gun does; relentless and deadly. Your feet urge you to run, but you’re stuck in place. 

John’s chuckle is sonorous and warm. Stomach churning, you watch as he looks back over his shoulder at you with florid cheeks and bright teeth. His gaze is warm and kind despite the chill his titter sends down your spine, and if you were any more like your father, you would have slapped him for the gesture. 

“I’d take good care of her,” the man assures with a haughty grin lacing his tone. “I just need a bitch for breeding and-” 

John doesn’t even give the man any time to explain himself before his fingers wrap around the holster of his six shooter. Head whipping around, hand raising, he pulls the trigger before anyone can comprehend his actions. A single shot fires and leaves a cacophonous screeching in your ears as your hand covers your mouth in an attempt to swallow your scream. With wide eyes and a fluttering heart, you watch as this stranger falls off his horse and plummets to the ground like a boulder crashing off the steep palisades of a canyon. 

Once his body stills, you notice a newly made hole in his mask sitting right above the two for his now lifeless eyes.

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates

[banananutmuffin28]

HIII, I saw you were available to take questions about sub squid game woman so I knew this was my moment 🏃‍♀️ sooo sub Kang No-eul with a fem reader fucking her with a strap-on and all the dirty talk about breeding or something like that. I know it's weird but it was something that occurred to me a few days ago lol 😭 anyways, feel free to ignore this if you like 😽

(This was done with google translate sorry 🧃)

A/N: God, I saw this and then immediately had to move it to the top of my list omg. [This is fueling my lust for stoic women who have a secret pathetic side]. I tried my very best to keep her personality as canon as possible, even if she is a sub! Also, omg?? That is some very good Google Translate haha. What is your native language? Warnings: Smut, Dirty Talk, Use of a Strap-On, and a Breeding Kink.

A Happy Family--Sub! Kang No-Eul x Top! FEM Reader

Sweet, silky moans echoed across the walls of your bedroom. It pierced through the silence of the night, and joined alongside the chirps of the grasshoppers and the quiet hoots of the owls.

The clock adjacent to the wall nearest to you read midnight, though its gentle ticks could barely be heard above the delicious groans of your girlfriend.

A small, small part of you warned that if you didn't stop now, the two of you would be going until early the next morning and inevitably be late to your shift.

And yet...you still couldn't stop yourself from sinking your teeth into No-Eul’s supple lower lip.

The noise that left her mouth made your pussy pool with arousal.

No-Eul was writhing desperately underneath you, her face a blazing inferno and her neck slick with sweat.

The buttons of her jacket were open, allowing the fabric to hang loosely around her shoulder blades.

 The bottom of her gray shirt had ridden up, exposing her deliciously toned stomach. Her body leaned against your shared bed, sinking weightlessly into the mattress the further you trailed your gaze downward.

You couldn't help but grin.

Who knew such a stoic woman could unravel so easily under your touch?

Immediately, almost as if she had read your thoughts, No-Eul's skin flushed redder and her posture stiffened shamefully.

Frowning, you slowly pause your ministrations, shaking your head.

That simply wouldn't do.

"Come on, Eul, don't be shy," You coo, watching as tremors began to break out all along her body. "It's okay for you to be a good little slut for me."

Smirking, you ended that sentence by thrusting your knee into the center of her soaked cunt, feeling her juices seeping through her underwear and onto her pants.

Whatever protests were bubbling up in her throat died in an instant.

Without sparing another second, your mouth met with hers roughly. The kiss held no gentleness, instead exposing the terrible need you had for No-Eul. Her mouth parted open eagerly, allowing you to slip your tongue inside with little to no resistance.

You savored how her eyes went wide when you pinned her hands to the wall.

Already, you could feel her grinding her cunt against your thigh.

"Baby."

Your petname left her lips in a breathless gasp, causing your core to grow hotter.

Wordlessly, you let go of her right hand in order to slip your fingers under the thin waistband of her leggings.

As she eagerly spreads her legs, you begin to speak.

"Do you remember when we met, Eul?"

Your girlfriend paused, her squirming dying down as she tilted her head to the side.

Before she could open her mouth, though, you pressed a hot kiss to her stomach.

"You were so cold to me, No-Eul," You whisper, feeling your face twist into a pout against her skin.

Desperately, No-Eul put a hand in your hair and began to stroke your head.

"You know I was busy, baby," She murmured, lightly sinking her fingernails into the back of your neck. "I...fuck, I was so focused on taking care of our little one."

You smile, tugging her pants down in order to rest a finger on top of her clothed slit.

No-Eul's breath stuttered.

"Mhmm, but she was just your little one back then, remember?"

Teasingly, you run your hand up and down her pussy.

"I remember how hard I had to work in order to get you to trust me to help you take care of her, Eul."

"H...hey it was different back then and you know it," Your girlfriend weakly protested, trying futilely to grind herself against your stilling hand. This close, you could feel her heartbeat stuttering as she began to squeeze her thighs around your wrist.

"You...ah-y-you know I trust you more than anyone else now, love."

"Mhmm," You say, before finally pulling down her underwear so that you could plunge your index finger into her soaking cunt.

"And that's why I love you, Eul."

–

Kang No-Eul was never quite an expressive woman.

You, of course, knew that from the very moment you met her.

The two of you met in the amusement park; She served as one of the mascots while you manned a mini game stall for kids.

You remember trying to introduce yourself to her, only to be met with a simple nod and the sight of No-Eul turning her back on you in order to walk in the opposite direction.

...you would be lying if you said the action didn't embarrass you. But, despite that humiliation-and quite frankly, the budding anger-your curiosity also peaked.

You wanted to know more about her.

The longer you stayed, the more you learned about the other woman.

Her mouth was always pressed in a perpetual line, and unless she was entertaining children in the amusement park, she was practically emotionless.

No-Eul never joined the dinner parties your co-workers held on Friday nights, nor would she ever willingly engage in conversation with anyone.

Instead, everytime her shift ended she would always rush into her van and disappear until the next morning.

Your other co-workers told you to not waste your breath, and that it was just in No-Eul's nature to isolate herself from the rest of the world.

But, you were a stubborn thing, and continued trying to befriend her regardless.

It never quite worked.

Hell, you were sure that if not for you accidentally spotting her talking to a North Korean broker, you would have never pierced through her shell.

Even now, as you were sucking her swollen clit, you still couldn't help but smile at the memory.

No-Eul had been carrying a babe in her arms, arguing with a heavier man about the living situation of her daughter.

"You know I can't take care of her in my current state," She had hissed, her beautifully piercing eyes narrowing at the short man. "I live in my damn car, for fuck's sake. I need to make sure my living condition is stable before I can take her in."

The man had scoffed, shaking his head as he stood unmoving in front of the taller woman.

"No-Eul, I'm a broker for North Koreans, not some guy running a daycare. I can't keep entertaining a little baby while working with so many clients."

Had you not spoken up and offered to help, you don't think she would have ever opened up to you, nor would your relationship blossom to how it is today.

–

"Baby, keep going," No-Eul whined, interrupting you from your thoughts.

You blinked slowly, before a smirk spread across your face as you stared at the other woman.

No-Eul was naked now, her clothing lying somewhere on the floor.

Her hands scratched your back painfully, betraying just how much she wanted you to fuck her.

A heavy strap hung around your hips, the curved, black tip growing wet as it collected her juices.

Harshly, you grab her hair, relishing in how she gasped in surprise.

Ever so slowly, you circled her entrance with the strap-on, then stilled.

Her frustrated pants were like music to your ears.

"I'm not going any further unless you beg for it," You sing songed.

No-Eul groaned loudly, as if she was trying to mask how hard she was blushing with her grunts. Quickly, she began to push herself onto the cock, and her words morphed into a low whine.

"Do I really need to, baby?" She protested, gesturing to her red cheeks. "Isn't this embarrassing enough?"

You frown, and begin to pull away.

"I won't fuck you then, Eul."

"Wait!"

No-Eul yelped before you could say anything else, desperately digging her nails into your skin. 

"Shit, baby, don't leave after teasing me like this."

She closed her eyes, refusing to meet your gaze.

"It just isn't fair, baby."

You only respond by sucking the skin above her collarbone.

She gasped.

"Fuck!"

“You gonna beg now?”

Ever as stubborn, No-Eul grunted, and tried to rise up from her position underneath you.

You merely tsk, and lightly sink the tip of the strap on into her needy little hole.

The effect you had on her was immediate.

“Oh!”

You watched as No-Eul’s face contorted into one of pleasure. Her messy bangs clung to her sweaty forehead, and her eyes became half-lidded. 

Feebly, she pushed your back forward, trying to sink the toy deeper into her pussy.

A tiny grin danced on her lips.

“Yes, love, just like that. Good girl–”

Instantly, your hands gripped her shoulders roughly and you slammed the dildo into her. Her pussy squelched, and No-Eul’s breath hitched at the unexpected motion. Anger began to sift through your veins, and you began to pound in and out of her mercilessly.

 No-Eul’s eyes widened for a split second before taking in your expression. Something flickered in the depths of her irises, almost like–

Fear.

“You don’t get to command me,” You hiss, slamming the strap-on deeper into her tender cunt, and relishing in the frantic grunts it drew from her. Forcefully, you yanked a handful of her hair and began to pull back, all while not stopping your brutal pace.

“You are my little slut, you hear?” 

When No-Eul began to protest, you thrust the dildo even deeper inside of her, and clamp your teeth onto her pretty neck.

Almost as soon as you began, you started to slow, trailing kisses down her forehead as you drank in her moans. She continued to writhe on the bed, hips awkwardly thrusting upward.

“Why’d you stop?”

You raised an eyebrow.

"You know why, Eul."

As you paused, No-Eul's bottom lip began to tremble.

Fuck, you knew she was reaching her limit. After all, your girlfriend could only be edged for so long.

She stood still for a couple more seconds.

And then, you heard it. 

“...please.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it was uttered oh so shamefully that you couldn’t control the growl that escaped you.

No-Eul’s pretty eyes were closed and her face was pressed against your shoulder blades, clearly not wanting to be seen.

A Chesire grin started to worm its way up your lips.

“What was that, my love?”

No-Eul gritted her teeth, her face becoming fifty shades redder as she hissed into your chest.

Before she could retort, you started to thrust into her once again.

It was so easy to see how any bits of the ego she had left disappeared from that action alone.

Cursing, she tightened her hold on your waist.

“Please!” She whined, grinding her soaked cunt on the strap once again. “Love, stop teasing me please.”

No-Eul panted into your ear.

“I need it.”

It was as if an animal had been unleashed from inside you. Quickly, you began to rut into her pussy, thrusting into her as if your life depended on it. Below you both, the bed started to creak as you fucked her deeper into the mattress.

“Awe, now that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” You purr, nipping the lobe of No-Eul’s ear. “Don’t you wish you had said that sooner?”

“Shut…shut up,” No-Eul growled, though her voice held none of the conviction that it did earlier. She gritted her teeth, tears pooling in the edges of her eyes as her sore cunt took in more and more of your cock.

You re-adjusted yourself so that the dildo was facing the direction you desired. Then, you began to hump into her again

Filthy moans filled the air as No-Eul whispered pitiful pleas into your ear. Try as she might, she couldn’t quite stop the drool that fell from her lips, nor the little mess that became of her hair.  

“I’m going to fuck that brattiness out of you.”

The only indicator that she even heard you at all was the little nod she gave you before she threw her head back.

It wasn’t long before your breathing grew haggard, though you refused to slow your pace. 

Smirking, you press your face into her neck as you murmur, ”I’m going to put a fucking baby in you.” 

You didn’t miss the way No-Eul’s walls clenched around the strap-on.

Her eyes flickered open, confusion and want mixing together in her irises.

“What? But, that’s not a real–”

“Hush,” You hiss, roughly squeezing her breast in your hands. “Focus on the way I’m pounding into you, Eul.”

You sunk your teeth into her skin.

“Don’t you want me to make you a mommy?”

No-Eul’s whole body shuddered, and she clamped her thighs tighter around the strap. Sometime during the mayhem, her fingers intertwined with yours, letting you brush her knuckles.

No-Eul couldn’t speak anymore, choosing to instead nod eagerly against your chest.

“Imagine that,” You coo, blowing your hot breath against her collarbone. “We’ll have another little one running around our small apartment. Don’t you want that?”

Her pussy seemed to grow impossibly wetter, if the squelches were anything to go by.

“Yes, love!”

A familiar tightness began to coil in your lower body, making you speed up. 

And, by the way her breathing quickened and the almost desperate way she jerked her hips towards you, No-Eul wasn’t far behind.

“Cum all over my cock,’’ You growl, jutting into just the right spot. You rested a hand along her stomach, patting it gently.  “Let me put a baby in here, Eul.”

“Do it,” No-Eul all but shouts, as cum begins to coat the strap-on. “Please, baby.”

You moan as an orgasm rips from you, trailing down your thighs and falling onto the bed beneath. Gently, you help her ride out her high.

You didn’t care about the damn mess. You could clean it later. 

No-Eul collapses onto the mattress, with you following suit not long after. She pants, watching as you unbuckle the dildo from your hips and crawl onto her.

“You did so well, No-Eul. You were such a good girl for me.’’

No-Eul only grunted, trying to pretend that she didn’t glow from your praise.

“Never speak of this again,” She grumbles at last, the vibrations of her words tickling your skin.

“Oh? So you don’t want to talk about giving our little one a sibling?” You giggle teasingly, watching as your girlfriend sighs into the embrace.

“You know what I meant, baby.”

“Mhmm.”

You shift to spoon her, and pepper soft kisses all around her pretty face.

“I know, Eul. And, I can’t wait to grow our little family.”

[valentine-cafe]

May I order an affogato please?

(Afab)

It wasn’t often – at least you tried to tell yourself that – but the occasional nightmare would happen, and make sleeping one of the hardest things to do for you. You would usually try and slink off to the garden outside to get some fresh air, or maybe curl up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book, but sometimes you’d just lie in bed and watch your lover as you desperately tried to fall back asleep.

The nights he was gone were the worst. You’d find yourself hugging his pillow while you were curled up in bed reading, or slipping on one of his jackets as you walked the garden to pass the time. But Vesp wasn’t a fool. He knew something was up, and you just hoped you could handle it better before he caught on. So what happens when Vesp finds out? How long had he known?

-🎐

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : affogato !! . . . vampire lieutenant ⊹ afab reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕verse 781 ꮽ  vespasiano 781

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a charming, vampiric lieutenant with years of experience turning his hairs grey

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... your husband finds out that you can't sleep without him when he's off to the military, and confronts you on it one night ⊹ cw ٬٬ reader with sleep issues . 

"Fancy meetin' you out here." His voice startled you more than the occasional mosquito that was buzzing next to your ears in the warm night of the little italian town. Heels spun to face the direction of your voice. You stood face to face with your husband, gaze softened and a small smile curled at the corners of his lips.

The grasshoppers and birds made their last song for the night, before even they went quiet and slept. A thing you found yourself quite jealous of. Though had you known your husband would have been home tonight you would have waited for him in bed. You instead donned yourself with the usual large leather jacket.

"Good god, Vesp you scared me." You gasp, mocking expasperation as you dash him gently on his chest. He can read you like an open book. Not just with his telepathy. Just by looking at you.

Oh you're exhausted. The circles peek through in the slightest by the occasional flicker of the candles inside of his family home. Of course his calloused thumb moves to drag along the lines in a careful motion as he croons along. "You're tired amore."

You let out a little laugh of amusement, tired? Well you were, though you felt nothing with the caffeine rushing through your blood. Sleep was a maiden in distress and you simply didn't have the power to save her without your other knight. You'd tried so many times but the monsters always won.

"What? Can't a darling go out and enjoy the fresh night air?" The little snort is convincing enough to make him huff in response. Head cocked to the side as a thick eyebrow lifts itself in question. "Your posture is slouched and your body is clearly exhausted." Damn your husband, and damn his consistent accurate call outs.

A small wave of anxiety waves through your stomach at the deep sigh. Why are you anxious though? It's fine. You just can't sleep without him, that's nothing uncommon. "My back is just hurting a lil. I'm alright, really Vesp."

"If you were alright I'd expect you in bed by now." He chuckles and redirects your body towards the staircase to his bedroom. Swiftly motioning your body over to the first step to walk you to the balcony entrance you came from. "And you wouldn't ramble to Pietro for 2 hours straight."

"It wasn't two, it was thirty-minutes at best." No, it wasn't. You had really spent about two hours rambling random facts to your husband's brother, who had been busy doing his work. Typing away at the keyboard like a maniac. And he was the one that supposedly rambled more than anyone in the house, other than when Albertino was home.

You'd rambled so much Pietro had to ask you if you could go and talk to someone else. Of course he'd let you down nicely, smiled apologetically as he said it. But you didn't know who else to talk to. Your mother-in-law was a possibility. But she was headed to bed soon, you wouldn't want to disturb her getting ready for it.

"I know it's hard when I'm not here baby."

You freeze in your step into the the bedroom. Eyes sweeping across the bedroom and rearing back at Vespasiano. His emerald eyes droopy and hinting melancholy. God damn it all again. All you can do is gulp and take a deep inhale before you let loose the demons that have been haunting you.

"It's. . . Okay." You start, and find a stunt in your words not knowing how to continue. The sound of clean cut nails scratching against stubble intterupts the silence. "Is it? Because it seems like 's a real bother f' you baby." He hums in response and moves up to you, with a swift wave of his hand at the door to close it.

His arms wrap around you and pull you close. "How long have you known?" You murmur into his shoulder and close your eyes. The immediate physical contact and warmth of his touch lets your body rest in all the ways it hasn't allowed you to these past couple of weeks.

"For a while." He hums, combing at your hair with his fingers. While his lips search for your temple. "Mama told me." He sighs and guides you towards the bed. Settling you onto the plush bed.

"Sneaky woman. Always snoopin' in my stuff." The joke passes from your lips as a little grumble and earns a fit of laughter from the man that undresses you with utmost care and affection. Joining in on it himself to get into the bed with you and cuddle you up.

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

[pinksobg]

How to atract better the lover|love you so deserve

already in a relationship and single reading

for reflection only. hope it resonates and you enjoy. hope you all are doing very well :)

pile one - singles -

dolphin - 20 - true.

When meeting someone new, preferably tell the truth from the beginning and don't settle for anything less than respect for the person you are from the beginning. The advice is to be spontaneously you, the carefree energy, being true to your personalities and tastes. "I like this, I like that, I don't like this".

hermit - get to know yourself, and you can even reinvent yourself or, better yet, another skill or quality of yours, valuing your individuality.

the moon reverse - the tip is to also think about the practical, logical and tangible world and not just (and only) feelings. a balance between reason and emotion is advisable.

6 of Wands reversed - if necessary, correct your postures that harmed you in the past.

-----

in a relationship -

v

27 - fox - think quickly

30 - grasshopper - take a leap of faith

The advice from the cards here are basically to invest in your relationship. analyzing the responses you give to your partner on a daily basis or when you meet. If you tend to respond impulsively to a text message, for example, when you're angry, try taking a step back: take a break to do something else and then analyze the situation again: "Should I really talk like that?" "Now, do I understand myself and my partner better?"

about the grasshopper. Both, seek to strengthen trust in the relationship. whether with open conversations or questions, like, "what do you think we can improve in our relationship?"

I wish the best for you! If necessary, seek professional help. trust yourself. 

-------------------------------------------------

pile 2 - singles -

39 - moth - surrender.

connect with your spirituality.

38 - lizard - make your dream come true.

The advice is to go after a dream, especially if it's a good old dream that you still want to fulfill. It can also be going to a place, doing a hobby that you've always dreamed of, when and if possible.

what great messages!

hierophant - if you want, try to avoid listening to the unnecessary judgments and prejudices of others. live well according to your values, value them, if you want, value and/or invest in your lifestyle.

king of wands - take action when necessary and do the things you are passionate about, or add passion/love/appreciation towards your actions.

7 of Wands - stay true to yourself, protect yourself with healthy boundaries.

-- in a relationship -

oh, yes!

31 - groundhog - time to forget

reverse judgement, page of hearts, the fool, 7 of hearts, 4 of hearts.

well then! the message is apparently advice to learn to forgive your partner if necessary and if you want to<. especially if there are past hurts. learn to forgive and be forgiven. either with a frank conversation and/or inner meditation on the events.

It is advisable here to connect with new people: friends, family. even beloved animals. Receiving loving energy from other people or areas of your life can be beneficial to your healing process.

explore more, have a snack with a friend, visit family, pet a beloved animal, whatever you want. take yourself for going out.

If you like the idea, talk to your partner about it, about forgiveness and each other being able to have a good moment of individuality if this is your case (or one of these is your case).

I wish all the best! Seek professional help if necessary. take good care of yourself.

----------------------------------------

pile 3 - singles -

oh! sharpen mind! good!

38 - lizard - make your dream come true

Ask yourself what your ideal life, your ideal relationship, would be like. How can you contribute to your good dreams right now?

12 - canary - sing your own song

invest in self-love and listening to yourself

queen of spades - again, assertiveness and honesty in your reading. Don't accept less than you deserve and speak for yourself when you want/necessary

10 of swords - if you want, heal yourself from past pains; as with good physical and mental rest

hope you be a lot of happy!

-----

in a relationship -

31 - groundhog - time to forget

24 - eel - bring your ideas to life

the advice in the cards is to learn to also listen to your voice in the relationship, also value yourself, your ideas. You are also a person who deserves to be heard and valued. Another piece of advice from the cards is to learn to forgive and be forgiven. These achievements, improving the relationship, if you wish, can be done with a little more self-love, investigation of your own feelings, desires, needs and ideas. Don't feel alone and seek help if necessary and desired. open and calm communication, preferably, about these important issues such as forgiveness, emotional responsibility, etc., can help your relationship if that is the need. remember that you are important and valid.

If necessary, seek professional help and be very happy, giving yourself more peace and a voice.

[number-one-toku-robot-lover]

"The locust jump is composed of three phases, cocking, co-contraction and triggering."

"In the cocking phase, the tibia are fully flexed and a locking mechanism is engaged to prevent the tibia from extending prematurely.

During the co-contraction phase, the tibia extensor muscle contracts simultaneously with the flexor muscle and power is stored in the extensor apodeme, cuticle deformation, and the semi-lunar process at the femoro-tibial joint.

During the triggering phase, inhibitory neurons reduce the tension in the flexor muscle to allow the locking mechanism to disengage and release the stored energy to extend the tibia and produce the jump."

"The jump direction is determined by the orientation of the prothoracic legs as they rotate the body to point towards the target prior to the jump. The elevation of the jump is determined by the posture of the metathoracic legs."

"Because the energy budget for a grasshopper jump is constrained by the energy that is stored in the elastic processes of the limb, energy used for rotation has to come at a cost to energy used to generate linear velocity."

David Cofer, Gennady Cymbalyuk, William J. Heitler, Donald H. Edwards; Control of tumbling during the locust jump. J Exp Biol 1 October 2010; 213 (19): 3378–3387. doi: https://doi.org/10.1242/jeb.046367

Goode, C.K., Sutton, G.P. Control of high-speed jumps: the rotation and energetics of the locust (Schistocerca gregaria). J Comp Physiol B 193, 145–153 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1007/s00360-022-01471-4

[nerdy-the-artist]

Batta, the Culture of the Zebesian Space Pirates

The Metroid Prime series has introduced the internal workings of the Space Pirates and expanded on it in subsequent entries. However, it is largely agreed upon by groups with the Metroid community (myself included) that the Space Pirates are a faction made up of many species. After all, the biology of the different enemy types in the Prime series alone is wildly different from game to game, aside from a bipedal, hunched posture. It can be assumed, therefore, that any discrepancies from game to game when describing the inner workings of the Space Pirates to simply be the culture of those individual species. For instance, the Urtraghians have far more brutal forms of punishment than the forces seen on Tallon IV. Now that then begs the question.

What about the culture of the Zebesians?

This exploration will, admittedly, be full of conjecture and fanons that I enjoy, but I hope you will enjoy either way.

The name Zebesian seems a bit strange to those who know the inner workings of Metroid lore, specifically about the Chozo, who were the residents of planet Zebes before the Space Pirates stormed the planet. The two big schools of thought as to the name from a Watsonian perspective are either that the Zebesians were driven off of Zebes in years past during the Chozo’s warlike past or that the name comes from their settlement upon Zebes that essentially became the way most of the Galaxy thought about the planet.

While I prefer the latter explanation, the former explanation does have some basis to it. Some of Dread’s many murals depict Mawkin soldiers coming into conflict with the Zebesian Space Pirates and defeating them. It is certainly possible that this is how the Chozo first settled the world. There was once a time when the Thoha Chozo were on good terms with the Mawkin.

Still, from both a Watsonian and Doylist perspective, I prefer that the Zebesian name comes from their takeover of Zebes, likely the latest conquest of many. From throughout the series, the Chozo are not seen to have been particularly active in galactic politics during the age of the Galactic Federation, mostly being relegated to advising more public figures. They are rarely mentioned after their demise, outside of their ruins. Therefor, with the Chozo mostly being dead and buried, their world conquered by the feared Space Pirates, the limelight would then be cast onto that world as the source of the Metroid threat, thus leading people to call them the rulers of that world. It’s not exactly how I will be situating things in my own rewrite of the manga, but it does fit better from a purely canonical perspective. Furthermore, from a Doylist perspective, there is evidence to posit this same position. (Special thanks to @sepublic for pointing this out) The internal data for the Zebesian sprite refers to them as Batta, the Japanese word for grasshopper/locust. While this can be attributed to their hopping behavior, it also fits to see them surrounding a planet, consuming its resources, and leaving barren rock behind, with Zebes being their latest, and most successful, operation. The manga displays them descending onto worlds, massacring populations, and enslaving the survivors. The origin of Samus Aran’s adoption into the Chozo comes from them massacring the population of a colony in order to steal its main export wholesale.

The individuals we see in the manga are spiteful, remorseless, and cruel, happy to kill a child for fun. They also show fear and cowardice in the face of armed resistance from Federation officials, and Mother Brain describes them as inclined to capitulate to the highest power present. This cruel, despotic leadership style appears to be an inherent trait to Zebesian culture. Furthermore, the Space Pirates are displayed as having genetically altered themselves to withstand Zebes’s environment very soon after securing the world, suggesting an avid fascination with genetic manipulation, a trait that gets taken to the N’th degree in the Prime series, along with a fascination of mechanical augmentation. From Meta and Proteus Ridley, to the grafted metal implants of the Tallon IV pirates, to the exoskeleton apparatus used by the Urtraghians, the Space Pirates as a whole seem to love cybernetically augmenting themselves and their underlings.

One of my favorite fan interpretations of the Zebesians comes from @dappercritter and the fanfiction piece “No Other”. Quite frankly, I have to include the paragraph wherein the description of the Zebesian race lies.

“The chimeric splice-junkies who had the nerve to call themselves ‘Zebesians’ she wasn’t surprised by. Those ‘settler colonists’-a term which they use to feign altruism and keep the GDF from assaulting their new base, had always been a thorn in Samus’s side since they tried to take her and the Chozo’s old home by force. Of course, they’d come back for more at some point, even if they deserved every other beatdown.”

The Zebesians are described as “chimeric splice-junkies”, a term which I absolutely love for its descriptiveness and color. These guys love to juice themselves up on whatever science team has cooked up. They love genetic modifications, cybernetic implants, and anything to make themselves stronger and give them an edge in combat. The main villain of this story, Ganzer, is the apotheosis of a Zebesian. He has replaced his lobster claws with metal claws, he has wings on his back, chainsaw blades grafted to his arms, a shoulder mounted cannon, a visor in place of his eyes, extra armor over his exoskeleton, and even a reptilian tail. Additionally, there is an explanation here for the name of these Zebesians. These galactic jerks are not just genocidal maniacs, they are something far worse: lawyers. They have lawyered their way into exploiting the Federation’s rules of engagement. After all, orbital bombardment on a colony is illegal. So, as any good lawyer would do, they have designated their most valuable planet as their residential colony world. Doesn’t matter that they breed Metroids, produce weapons, and store their fleets there, cuz that’s where the children grow up, at least on paper.

Furhermore, given their distinctly crustacean design, I can imagine that their “splice-junky” lifestyle comes into play during a specific recurring period of their life; molting. When a crustacean molts, the new shell is soft and malleable for a time, in which time they are extremely vulnerable. Defensive claws and stingers are effectively useless, leaving them defenseless until their body hardens. This time could be perfect for Zebesians to how in the infusion tank to get ‘roided up on whatever DNA infusions they choose/have chosen for them, or to have cybernetic implants grafted into them, where the shell will then solidify and seal the implant on. You can just imagine some excited Zebesian chittering about how they ordered the new model of targeting armature, lamenting that they have to wait until the next molt to get it installed. It honestly opens up some room for a bit of downtime in their culture which I think could be explored further some time.

Hope you all enjoyed this one! I may make a similar post for some of the other Space Pirate varieties. I do have some unique fanons for the Urtraghians that could be cool to share. Let me know if you have any suggestions or fanons of your own!

[pi-roach]

A few nights ago i had a dream where i was knock off batmans adopted bastard son who was known as his son and second in command to where i never took off my son Batman mask and was in constant physical pain because of me constantly fixing my posture while body guarding him and then one day i fell down the stairs and met the real normal Batman and he was red in the face slurring words drunk and told me he was my real father and he has a minor fling with a blonde woman and he dumped me on that other guy (also btw I’m wearing an eyepatch now ) and then another woman at this abandoned highschool with a bar in says “isn’t that literally just robin though” and then it cuts to robin, who also has an eye patch, in a red shortsleeved shirt and normal blue-jeans drinking a shot (btw in this shot he looks like a teenager. ??) and then i cried because Batman hates me and is my real father and then i get to watch the beginning of my fathers knockoff Batman tv show where i am his sidekick and it says “he was the happiest kid in town, kids made fun of him for reading books-”

(quote dream me: today im reading the ants and the grey hopper ((double context, my brain was talking about a weird alternate version of the ants grasshopper story)) and then they laughed at me and adoptive father knockoff Batman shook his head and looked down, put his hand on my shoulder and when i asked him why he said i was being bullied, “

-and then looking at his eye-“ (SPECIFICALLY SINGULAR, REFERRING TO THE ONE I DONT HAVE YET) “you could see how happy he was in that glistening eye”

and then i relived wildcats if their ship was an alien space ship that crashed into a large pond waterfall hanging over a cliff

and then i woke up

‘Batman fans does this ever happen in the series btw

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Syndrome

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

In one of the earliest episodes of Psycho Analysis, I discussed the villain of Incredibles II, Evelyn Deavor. Evelyn is just a genuinely awful twist villain for not only being completely obvious, but for having a nonsensical and impersonal motive that makes her look like a vindictive idiot. And while there is so much wrong with her, things I detailed in that review (though probably not quite as well as I would now after doing this for a few years), there is one big issue that holds her back, one that no villain in her shoes could avoid: She’s standing in the shadow of a chubby ginger nerd with a Heat Miser hairdo.

Syndrome (real name Buddy Pine) is really something else when it comes to Pixar villains. While not the first to be genuinely, irredeemably evil—Hopper was already right there—he had a lot of things that the grasshopper lacked. For one, we get to see Syndrome’s backstory and how he ended up becoming the way that he is. But more importantly, Syndrome just has a much more stylish presentation that elevates him to being what I consider Pixar’s very best villain.

Motivation/Goals: Over the course of his many, many evil monologues, Syndrome paints a pretty vivid picture of why he is the way he is. It begins with his initial monologue to Bob, where he recounts the faithful night Bob cruelly rejected him and told him to fly home. Only… there’s one teensy little detail missing from the recap. A very French detail.

Yes, Buddy’s memory proves to be extremely self-serving, as he ignores Bob was at the time dealing with the terrorist and “World’s Greatest Punny Supervillain Name” winner Bomb Voyage to paint himself as a poor, innocent victim of a dismissive and cruel super. Note also how his posture in his version has him with arms wide open as Bob cruelly looks down upon him. All of this goes to show that his big desire for revenge, a core aspect of his motivation, is just completely fabricated by his warped, evil mind. I think he really was just looking for an excuse to go on a killing spree and Bob telling him to stop endangering his own life inadvertently created the world’s first super-school shooter.

Syndrome later elaborates on his evil scheme, because simple revenge isn’t all he’s about (it’s just really nice he gets to take it, that’s all). In another monologue, he details how his murderous robot was meticulously created so that he could fabricate the perfect deadly enemy for him to beat in a staged fight, thus turning himself into a beloved superhero and winning the public’s adoration and respect. With every other hero dead by his hands, he could now soak in all the attention he wanted, and then when he’s old he’d sell off all his tech creating a world where everyone is super (meaning, in his words, that “no one will be”). Syndrome’s initial scheme is very ego-driven and narcissistic, which honestly makes it perfect for a campy supervillain like him.

Of course, he ends up having one more plan when everything else goes awry: Steal Jack-Jack and raise him as his own. This is actually a nice recycling of his cameo from a deleted opening scene for the movie, where he was actually an old enemy who tried to kidnap Violet as a child and who ends up dying in a horrible explosion for trying to fuck with Bob and Helen’s kid (seems they liked that fate for him, because they kept that too). It’s pretty demented as far as a backup plan goes, but it certainly fits him.

Performance: Beloved Kevin Smith collaborator, former Scientologist, and Dave Seville actor Jason Lee is genuinely the perfect sort of guy to voice a villain who comes off as incredibly comedic, but he also gets to show off some really good range when it’s time for Buddy to drop the laughably evil schtick and dip into being a smug, sinister supervillain. All in all, he gives us the exact sort of Silver Age supervillain hamminess to keep you engaged even as he dips deeper and deeper into horrifyingly evil actions.

Final Fate: You’d think that after nearly dying from a bomb getting caught on it as a child, Syndrome would ditch the cape. You’d think that, being a former hero worshiper who absolutely had to know that Edna Mode was the hero designer, he’d be aware of her stance on capes in costume design and would ditch the cape. But no, Syndrome apparently really wanted that classic hero look, and as all truly stylish men must do, he paid the price for looking good. The price in this case is being sucked into a jet turbine where he was shredded into a fine paste before whatever was left violently exploded in a massive fireball, but hey, that's what you get for ignoring Edna's fashion advice.

Best Scene: I think his introductory scene when he fully reveals himself to Bob is, ahem, incredible, especially on repeat viewings. From the chilling moment where he makes Bob aware of his true identity to his warped self-victimizing recap of Bob rejecting him to getting caught monologuing and then tossing Bob away by accident, it takes the nerdy little fanboy from the opening and recontextualizes him as a laughably evil mad scientist who is at the same time an extremely disturbed murderer with a horrifyingly personal vendetta.

Best Quote: Syndrome has some of the best quotes in the movie this side of Edna, and he drops a good 50% of the film’s most iconic and quotable lines. But the one bit of dialogue that sticks out to me personally is the one he drops during his big (re)entrance into the film, where he makes Bob realize who he is by simply saying, “After all… I am your biggest fan.” It’s so simple and bone-chilling and really sets the mood of the film going forward.

Final Thoughts & Score: Syndrome is just really an amalgamation of everything great you could have in a villain in this particular type of movie.

On the superhero movie side, he’s obviously taking a lot of inspiration from envy-driven tech geniuses like Lex Luthor and Dr. Doom. He has a personal grudge against the hero, and is determined to use his technological prowess to outdo them and show the world he’s better than the supermen. Of course, Syndrome takes it to an entirely unhinged level by being an unrepentant serial killer, but he’s very much still in the spirit of those aforementioned supervillains. Much like them, and as previously mentioned, his version of the events that led to his rebirth as a villain are very skewed to paint him more as a victim, with his take being how he was unfairly treated by his idols rather than as some obnoxious nuisance who could have been severely hurt or killed and whose bumbling led to a disastrous chain of events. It seems very much in the same vein as the stories where Doom blames Reed for however badly his face is scarred, or Lex blaming Superman for making him bald. Syndrome just takes these classic comic book tropes and mashes them together into one fantastic package. Now if only he somehow involved super-intelligent gorillas in his plans...

Now let’s look at the James Bond side, because everything from the score to the island lair to the evil henchmen are pure Bond villain territory. Syndrome has Bond Villain Stupidity down to an art form; even when he points out being “caught monologuing,” he still does it multiple times where he otherwise has the titular family dead to rights. He had ample opportunity to kill them several times, only to end up with egg on his face because the heroes managed to use his time gloating to form a real plan of escape. And then there’s his death which, again, is caused because he felt like gloating instead of just fucking leaving. He even has a sexy henchwoman who betrays him for the incredibly sexy Chad of a hero, though Bob doesn’t need her pussy when he has it galore at home. Syndrome wouldn’t feel too out of place going up against Jimmy B, if I’m being honest; nothing Syndrome does is any sillier than Moonraker.

I think what’s truly impressive is just how they managed to balance Syndrome being utterly vile and absolutely hilarious, which is no easy task and can lead to a villain being insufferable rather than entertaining. Syndrome has some great jokes, great body language, and the voice of Jason Lee, a voice that exudes comedic energy in every syllable; he also nonchalantly orders children to be murdered, gambles his henchwoman’s life just to call Bob’s bluff, tries to kidnap a baby, and is basically what would happen if H. H. Holmes had robots. It’s such an amazing combination of traits and it all gels together into one of the best and most fun superhero movie villains ever crafted.

Yeah, that’s right. He’s one of the best superhero movie villains. This man easily clears most of Marvel and DC’s movie villains, and deserves every single point of that 10.5/10 I’m giving him. He’s Pixar’s best villain, and exactly the sort of fun, campy, yet ultimately deadly and threatening bad guy that all superhero movies deserve. Literally no part of The Incredibles is lacking, so why should the villain be any different, right? If only the sequel could have kept up even half the energy… Maybe if they’d given Evelyn Snow Miser’s hair, she’d have been a better villain.

[buckstriviacorner]

EVAN BUCKLEY 9-1-1 | 1x07 – FULL MOON (CREEPY AF)

Salabhasana, also known as Locust Pose, is a foundational backbend posture in yoga that strengthens the back muscles, improves flexibility, and energizes the body. The pose gets its name from the way the body mimics a locust or grasshopper with its limbs lifted.

[yogadaily]

(via A Step by Step Guide to Yin Yoga for Beginners - YOGA PRACTICE  || Curated with love by yogadaily) 

[themushroomprince03]

This is my favourite photo from any play ever (The play in question is James and the Giant Peach)

There’s just so much going on here I don’t even know where to start

First of all, everyone’s costumes look absolutely incredible, but that’s besides the point

Centipede and Earthworm are bein gay. Good for them. Good for them.

WAIT CENTIPEDE HAS A CROWN??? WOAH KING OF THE CENTIPEDES

Grasshopper having a mental breakdown in the corner

Ladybug’s face, posture, and everything is so funny in relation to everything else

Everyone is either asleep or dead

If they’re sleeping, then wow they chose the worst sleeping positions possible

And more!

[mx-lamour]

my memorys super stinky and i forget who i do/dont send asks too so ignore if i did hehe; im sending asks to people with 'ask me anything' in their bio thingy; feel free to answer or not, or however youd like!

what is your favorite holiday or occasion/theme?

what fragrance/scents put you in a good mood?

what kind of weather do you love?

if you could have a dream about anything, what would you dream about?

what kind of treats do you love/make you feel happy?

what's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

what kind of music are you craving/listening to right now?

what's something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

I love asks! ty! ♡

Favorite holiday/occasion/theme:

Mabon and weddings.

What fragrance/scent puts you in a good mood?

Petrichor and cinnamon/pie spices.

What kind of weather do you love?

That summer thing where it rains gently but the sun is still shining and the color green gets super saturated.

The kind of still, perfect temperature where you almost can't even feel the air, and it's dark but the sky is clear and you can see the stars.

When it's going to rain, hard, but not yet, and there's the sneaking undercurrent of a breeze, too low to be wind, and it's the kind of uncanny dim where you have no frame of reference for the time of day, and everything in the world seems to be holding its breath.

I like liminal weather.

If you could dream about anything?

I have no idea how to answer this one, haha. I'm always dreaming.

Treats that make you happy?

Cheesecake is the first thing that comes to mind. I eat it very rarely, but it's delicious. The consistency is very rich and satisfying.

My mom used to do homemade cheesecake sometimes, and I have a serious nostalgia for grasshopper (mint/chocolate) in particular.

My husband and I pilgrimmage to the Cheesecake Factory around Valentine's Day most years. (I think my favorite there is the mango lime flavor.)

Oh gods. Tiramisu. I go crazy for tiramisu.

What's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

A fascinating new one: I just learned how to tack up and ride a horse for the first time! I did it for research/writing, but now I really want to ride a horse again. It was very cool. I got the info I needed for my fic, but I don't think I've yet figured out the vocabulary to really fully describe the experience. Very stimmy, though; soothing and exciting. That good riding posture, man. I get it now. I get why people love horses.

Current music:

Pretty much just constantly on my D&D and fanfic playlists. Here's kind of a random selection...

"Start a War" by Klergy/Valerie Broussard is stuck in my head rn.

"Two Gypsies" by Solace is what I listen to about Ezra's mom.

"The Pines" by Roses & Revolutions is for my Immortality fic.

"Lover. Fighter." by SVRCINA has been a good all-purpose one.

"The Empire of Winds" by Alpine Universe is just a serious vibe.

"Dracula" by Bea Miller is one of my latest bops.

"No F.E.A.R." by Madalen Duke, also fun.

Something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

Embarrassing old men.

(I was going to add something to that, but I literally just wrote it and busted up, so. I guess that's it. 🤣)

[the-composer]

fangedstories​:

“I will have you. I will have you begging to be let go but I will refuse as long as your ways do not change. Oh…what lovely screams I’ll get out of that whore mouth of yours…”

“I admire your ambition, grasshopper. I wonder if this nasty side of yours is you posturing, or if it’s legitimate. Regardless, you're simply not cunning enough to capture me and the Composer sharing borders with you would be awfully angry if you touched a hair on my pretty little head. ♡ Keep threatening me, though. I’m having a great time."

“You’re just cranky because you can’t have me and the only way you could is by abducting me. ♡”

[fcntasmas-archive]

negan from twd is just hopper from a bug’s life