#idk this is probably stupid

[babybluelove2]

the losers club as pretentious dance convention kids cause i just went to my last dance convention (at least with my studio, i am sure i will go to another one) (still :(((()

౨ৎbill is one of those stupid good contemporary dancers. always wearing baggy clothes, only ever dances in socks. he is friends with the ground to the point where like gravity does not pertain to him. weird contemporary solos but. not so far that hes straight up dancing to a recording of a person talking

౨ৎeddie is 100% a ballet dancer. his technique is to die for although he struggles to emote. what sucks is that he isnt your stereotypical male ballet dancer - his leaps are average height, hes flexible and has gorgeous lines, he despises pas de deux...the works. this however is a great combination for a convention dancer !

౨ৎstan pretends to be a ballet dancer...he is lying he is that kid who traveled around with a convention every weekend and is super versatile and performative but in that specific way that you can tell hes a convention kid. really his strength is weird contemporary, not the slide-y rolling around on the ground stuff like bill, the weird stuff. the you-are-a-bird, you-just-got-electrocuted-and-all-your-movement-is-intiated-from-your-neck (directly inspired by two combinations i learned this season) stuff. freak

౨ৎben is a lyrical dancer cmon! ben is so a lyrical dancer. he is the male lead in all of his studios intense sad romantic lyrical pieces cmonnnnnhhihjbnk babe can perform! he gets uncomfortable with the weird shit that stan likes; he doesnt love jazz or hip hop but like. hes good at it hes just not confident enough to fully sell it

౨ৎbev is a jazz girl, definitely gets into commercial work when she starts dancing professionally. she is most comfortable with commercial jazz funk, as opposed to the energetic triplette-little-kid-doing-molly-long-choreo-where-they-keep-doing-one-leg-over-and-over-again. she thinks the camera is fun, and the camera man loves her.

౨ৎi am going against my better judgement and making richie a hip hop dancer ik i am sorry i try to make richie as uncool as possible but. hes a hip hop dancer :/ annoyingly good musicality and movement quality. also just has fun; there is no way he takes it as seriously as like. eddie. his movement style also lends itself well to contemporary even though hes not super technical. figured out he could hold a handstand and is now on his hands whenever possible,,, deliberately changes the combo so he can do a little twirl on his hands

౨ৎmikey is a tapper! i love tap as a style but convention tap is either good or just complete dogshit because so many people skip the classes because they dont tap at their home studio. i know his tap shoes are cool asf definitely fun colored. is the perfect mix of style and performance and also technical tap ability. he can do the other stuff dont get me wrong but he always pulls through with a banger tap solo

[gal-o-guacamole]

Ok but do you think they've been to Libido bath

[benrybenrybenry-chr]

being into sherlock holmes is so stupid like. yeah here's my blorbo, you don't know him. you think you do, but unless you've systematically fallen in love with him through the personal writings of his retired army doctor best friend you really don't. yeah. he's one of the most popular and well known characters in the world. I have interacted with at least 60% of the current fans. hey do you think he associates the sounds of waterfalls with death? do you think he'll ever get over that? I won't. good talk

[ghost-proofbaby]

too sweet (astarion ancunin x reader)

"you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain. pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. [...] you're too sweet for me."

summary: astarion realizes you're too sweet for him, and he probably shouldn't let this go further than necessary. but, oh, he's going to. isn't he? (based on this request and the song 'too sweet' by hozier <3)

pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for games regarding camp dialogue with astarion, discussion of astarion's past trauma, talks of self-loathing/disgust with sex, vague mentions & allusions to sex having been had, manipulation at it's finest! minors dni.

wc: 2k+

a/n: i just wanted to get inside this man's mind when he drops that fucking line the second time he tries to sleep with us/tav. why does his face fall like that? why?

divider by @firefly-graphics <3

As Astarion observes the rise and fall of your chest in the soft morning light, he can only think one thing: shit. He fucked up. 

And he had spent most of the early hours trying to retrace his steps, trying to decipher exactly where his monumental mistake had begun, but it seemed useless. 

It could have been somewhere between the first and third bottle of wine shared with you last night during festivities, where he’d sweet-talked you to the high Hells until you’d agreed to return to his bedroll in the dead of night. Where he’d made the joke that wasn’t all that funny – the joke that he loved you. Three pretty words tried out on his tongue, and they hadn’t been nearly as light-hearted as he’d wanted them to be. More of an experiment, a quick sip to see if he liked the taste. And he had fucked up, because he did like the taste. He liked the sweetness that stuck to every corner of his mouth as he delivered the sugar-coated lie to you, his entire face falling as a new weight appeared in his chest. 

But perhaps it had been the first night he tasted you – well, your blood, that is. The night he’d awoken from a nightmare of Cazador and in his vulnerability, had chosen you as his victim of yet another experiment. A test to see if he was truly free. One drop of a thinking creature’s blood, that was all he needed. But you’d given more than he’d bargained for, and your cloy ichor had coated his taste buds so addictively, and he had just known that night was only the beginning. It was the first time, but certainly not the last. 

He thinks he could drink in whatever you offered him, and only that, for the rest of his days while still finding some sickly, twisted version of reprieve regardless. Not a drop more than he needed, always vying for more. 

He’d be okay with that type of hunger, that type of yearning, and that might have been his first real mistake. 

Or maybe, just possibly, it had been that very first meeting. Maybe he had doomed himself from the moment he’d pressed a blade to your neck, when he had dragged you to the ground with him and felt all that warmth, all that fear, radiating off of you. So frightful, and you still had offered your help to him when it was all said and done. Perhaps that was when he had well and truly screwed himself over. One simple introduction, void of his usual wine and flowers, and he’d locked himself in for pure trouble. 

Not even the fun kind, at that. What a shame. 

At the end of the day, or rather the beginning of the day as it is now, it doesn’t matter where his threads had started to unravel. All that matters is that they were – every carefully thought out line of his plans had all frayed, all detangled from the bigger picture, all because of you. 

Heart of gold, blood of honey. You were far too sweet for him, and he knew it. 

“Having fun, are you?” 

“I am, it’s hard not to with you.”

You’d taken each of his tactics in stride, hadn’t you? Whereas his face had nearly crumbled beneath the weight of that beautiful lie, insides twisting uncomfortable as the humor had slipped through his fingers, your eyes had only glittered as you bit back a smirk. To so lightly tease him, to banter right back with him, instead of see the truth behind it all. He didn’t know if you were simply that naive or if you were another kindred soul – Perhaps you were finding just as much safety, just as much sanctuary, in whatever dance he’d dragged you into. An entanglement of lies, a blithe facade, a daring smile that whispers come now, play with me. 

And play with him, you had. 

You’d played with him, you’d drank with him, and you’d now slept with him. Twice. 

“You’re up early,” your voice murmurs, silken tone cutting through all his racing thoughts. 

He hadn’t even noticed you had stirred, rousing yourself out from underneath his stolen blankets to peer at him curiously as he perched on the edge of the bedroll. As far from you, and as far from your sweetness, as possible. 

“Oh, you know what they say, my dear,” he chirps, rolling his shoulders as the act wraps him back up. The charismatic charmer. The illusive rogue, trained impeccably to coax you in and secure his safety, “No rest for the wicked.” 

He’d awoken before you last time, too. Had watched the sun rise and enjoyed the warmth of it plastering across his skin long before you’d ever woken up. He half-hopes you’ll be less talkative this time; he half-hopes you’ll try to rope him into whatever discussion you can, if only for a few extra seconds of your attention. 

You were too sweet. Too sugary on his tongue, too soothing in his chest. He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 

You hum thoughtfully, the blanket slipping and exposing more of your chest. With the light flickering in from his tent’s entrance, he can easily spot those two scarring dots along your jugular where his fangs fit perfectly, “I don’t know if I’d describe you as wicked, lover.” 

“No?” Roped into discussion, it is. “How would you describe me then?” 

He’s not comfortable in this lighting. He feels feverish beneath your steady stare, the way your eyes take their time as you look over every inch of him. The languid observation has him convinced you’re seeing right through him – your glance can pierce right through all his armor and expose every flaw. You see him for the monster he is, you see him for the bitter soul he’s become, you see him as the unworthy spawn he believes himself to be. 

He almost swears that you even see right through his nice, simple plan at hand, not so easily fooled as he had believed you to be. 

“Charming, certainly,” you suddenly sigh, sitting up and keeping your body mostly covered still with that knitted blanket. He’d only snagged it because the shade of the wool nearly matched your eyes – not that he was paying attention to your eyes, of course, “But then again, you’d have to be to have bedded me twice now, wouldn’t you?” 

“We can always make it thrice,” he banters back, ignoring the bile that builds at the insinuation. But if that’s what it takes – laying on his back over and over again – to guarantee your protection, he’ll do it. He’d do it a thousand times over to keep himself as far away from Cazador’s chokehold as possible, “Does that entice you, love?”

When he turns his body fully, beginning a carefully and calculated crawl up the bed roll, ready to slot his body back between your thighs and encourage you to have his way with him, you stop him. The heel of your foot delicately presses against his chest, your head tilted curiously before you shake it. 

“Who’s the eager pup now, Astarion?” 

He likes the way his name drips off your tongue. Almost as if he might be made of the same sugar and spice as you, the same pure honey flowing through your veins also inhabiting his. You say it like a song, articulate it like the sweetest fruit. 

He shouldn’t like it. It shouldn’t be able to overpower his lingering disgust with himself so easily. 

“It’s hard not to be eager when it comes to you,” he says the line with good practice, beckoning a purr to his tone that had always won over the victims he’d entrap in dark taverns back in the city, “I said the Gods had made you just to ruin me, and I meant it.”

He’d meant it more than he’d realized. It wasn’t just your body that had been sculpted to draw him in – it was everything. Your entire aura, your entire glacé demeanor. All that innocence and all that geniality enticed him more than he could ever admit. You were certainly going to ruin him, so wholly and so entirely. You’d already started to, really. 

You don’t respond at first, and he swears he has you. You’re locked in on his distraction, caught up in his web, just as he needs you to be. One lithe hand lifts to your ankle, cool fingers wrapping around your warm skin as he begins to lower his lips, ready to pepper kisses up your leg. Prepared to offer you his mouth, his body, in return for the one thing he needs. Self-loathing be damned. 

Old habits die hard, right along with pride, and he’s not quite ready to bury either at your grave yet. 

But just as he presses the first chaste kiss to your skin, nearly taken back by how your sweetness still breaks through the salty surface, you’re pulling the limb away from him. Your knee draws back and a disarming smile has risen on your cheeks, eyes glittering at him just as they had the night before. 

“I suppose I’ll have to come find you when everyone is asleep, then.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

What exactly had he been waiting for? You, of course. But had he been waiting for you to find him solely for what had transpired? To explore your portfolios of talents once more, as he had put it? Or had it been for something more… precarious? 

Was he nothing more than a prey, waiting for you to be his demise? 

Had he actually been waiting for this? 

The challenging look in your eyes as they reflected back stars, the warmth of your skin so close to him he nearly melts into you. The upturn of the corners of your mouth, outlining the way you certainly know something that he doesn’t. A look you wear well, a look that shakes his foundations and rattles his bones. 

“As tempting as you are, I’ll have to decline. Duty calls, as they say.” 

Can you see right through him? 

He should be more deflated when you start going through the motions; he should be pouting or overthinking it all as he watches you gather your clothes once more, covering up the few bite marks of his that litter your skin. Every moment you prepare to leave his tent should be one spent overthinking where he’d gone wrong – why didn’t you want him? Was his plan even going to work? 

Were you truly too sweet for him? Would he have been better off trying to romance the likes of Gale for the safety just shy of his grasp now?

He doesn’t, though. For once, his mind is quiet as he watches you patter about. The bile retreats, the disgust fades. For the first time in a very long time, Astarion is leaving this interaction not feeling used. 

Maybe it’s in the way you cheekily snatch one of his shirts as you both pretend he doesn’t notice it, or maybe it’s in the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair as you pass him to pick back up your discarded weapon. Maybe it’s in every shy glance you offer him, or maybe it’s in your ever present grin. 

Watching you leave should worry him, but it only feels like a breath of fresh air. A wind that comes sweeping in with the promise of next time just as you pull back the flap to his tent. 

And he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting patiently for you to turn back to him until you do just this, offering him one final glance that sets him aflame, “Oh, and before I forget – you can feed on me tonight, if you need to.” 

Heart of gold, blood of honey. He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Then I’ll see your delicious self tonight,” he takes a pause, one big and unnecessary breath filling his chest alongside that warmth you bring to him. The fearless leader, the kindest soul. His most apt nickname for you yet falls off his lips in a content sigh, “My sweet.”

He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 

But he’s going to. Gods, he is going to. 

After all, the sweetest fruits always fall from the most forbidden branches, do they not?

[totallyradicalmucky]

Most chaotic polycule

[ar0rin]

stolen idea

[yukiire]

the hell marine festival event and power couple card still have my heart, shoulder and neck

[liathgray]

Second art piece i’ve done for the Green Screen AU… they caused a panic at a MacDonalds btw

Rest of AU: first, third, fourth

[mugentakeda]

category 5 jetko moment

[boinky-doinky]

This is very much screenshotted from my insta but here’s a Tim wip I found in my camera roll that I never posted here

[jondoe279]

atp i genuinely doooon’t care if the old guard two is the worst thing put to film i just want to see the best character of all time (andromache the scythian) and her loser henchmen and everyone’s favorite girl nile freeman again

[oceanwithouthermoon]

kaido and nendo casually watching saiki freak out over his crush and barely reacting or caring about why is so funny to me

[pkaykim]

Oofurixmas2022 for @meela-31

[artsy-1diot]

LITERALLY STARTED MAKING THIS DRAWING LAST NIGHT AND I THINK I ACCIDENTALLY PREDICTED THE FUTURE WITH IT WHAT THE FUCK

[qbebou]

i understand why ppl don’t believe quackity rlly didnt know abt the working conditions with the admins, it’s his server, he should be overseeing everything, etc etc. but i think many ppl aren’t taking into consideration how massive of a project the qsmp is and how big the team is. on top of the roleplaying admins (eggs, capys, bunnies) there’s likely lots of offscreen admins, builders, mod devs, writers, artists working on the project as well. it makes total sense to me for q to have hired and trusted ppl to handle parts of quackity studios that he a. didn’t have time for b. didn’t have the experience to make the best decisions for or c. that he just didn’t want to do. at the end of the day q is a content creator and yes that means he also is a businessman and yes he owns quackity studios but he’s also shown himself to be INCREDIBLY busy and things like managing finances, vetting, hiring, and paying out employees takes a lot of time and can go super wrong if he didn’t have the knowledge or experience regarding how to do such things. he’s also shown himself to be pretty hands off with a lot of the server administration stuff, afaik he still isn’t op’d on his own server which makes sense bc he does have a team running things behind the scenes. i worked administration in a small office a while back and we had plenty of miscommunication issues bc my boss didn’t handle every part of his business. he didn’t even know how much i was being paid bc he had hired someone else to do the onboarding, offboarding, and payment for employees. even tho our team consisted of like 13 ppl at any given time, there were still miscommunications. and we were all seeing each other in person! we weren’t even dealing with differing time zones or different languages.

at the end of the day, q is young and inexperienced. he trusted the wrong ppl to handle parts of his business. all we can hope for is that things change for the better, the whole quackity studios team gets paid fair wages, have stress loads taken off of them, and feel safe and comfortable continuing with the project. i rlly hope pommes admin comes back bc the qsmp wouldn’t be the same without her even if another admin took the place of pommes character. idk if lea would want to come back but i feel like the door should be open for her too and she still deserves compensation for the work she did in her time working on the team. i have high hopes that things will get taken care of and some restructuring happens within the company

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

guys please pray for me