#see you friday!!!!!

[skelavender]

fitp iv spoilers without context

[chroma-imp-draws]

[sceletaflores]

he’s such a pathetic squirmy worm of a man. i need him under me immediately.

[not-roboto]

Screencap painting from "The Waitress is Getting Married" ( 9" x 12", Oil on canvas panel)

(Inprnt!)

[zillychu]

Consider for a moment: A slow-burn identity reveal “no one knows” AU with an emphasis on ghosts being taken seriously as an actual, world-changing threat.

Ghosts are treated as an exceedingly dangerous, but unavoidable force of nature. They can come and go without warning, through naturally occurring spontaneous portals. They're territorial, driven only by obsession and hunger for the living. Particularly powerful ghosts are on par with natural disasters.

Life goes on because there's simply no other option. All major buildings have varying levels of ghost shields, some stronger than others. Just about everyone has some form of personal shield, weapon, or general deterrent. For the most part, humanity takes this apocalypse in stride, barely keeping it all together because there's just enough safety to keep them all sane.

Which is why the rumors of Phantom being able to fully mimic a human body incites panic in Amity.

Phantom was already a nightmare as it was–one of the most powerful and intelligent ghosts on record. His territorial fights with other ghosts for haunting (hunting) grounds in Amity have made global news several times already. Powerful ghosts could appear more human–but to think he was transforming down to a cellular level? Hiding among them? Bypassing ghost shields and alarms? Picking them off one by one?

The focus is mostly with Lancer's class, and how the school deals with this new threat on top of everything else. Everyone is a suspect, no one is safe, and Danny Fenton in particular gets slowly more and more exhausted, apathetic, and… unnerving.

The stress, the lack of sleep, the fighting, no one to turn to, not even his best friends or family–it takes a toll on him. Starving himself doesn't help, but he refuses to do more than take small bites from the ambient life energy and emotion of the living around him. Nothing that won't actually do lasting harm. He begins to slip up more and more, which Sam and Tucker begin to notice but haven't quite connected the dots yet.

But, well. What else can Danny do when Pariah Dark comes knocking on Amity’s doorstep, and his whole class is in the line of fire?

[juniper-clan]

Moon 27: Walking on My Grave (feat @in-memoriam-tgwk Glowstar!)

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[marlynnofmany]

"Automatic updates? The thing that made Murderbot commit mass murder?"

Bringing this joke back in honor of today's CrowdStrike fiasco.

[jacketpotatoo]

Mariah should play Ethan I think. That would solve every problem I’ve had ever

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY ONE

October 1st -- Praise

happy first day of kinktober 🎃🎃🎃🎃!!!

masterlist

summary: You've been secretly hooking up with your coworker Spencer for two months. He notices something about you and wants to try something new. (I personally imagined circa season 10 Reid, but you do you bestie 😘)

warnings: praise, lots of 'good girls', oral [m/f both receiving and giving], light dom behavior, finger sucking, piv, safe sex practices, and a little bit of begging

word count: 3.1k (this one got away from me a little bit oops)

this is adult content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

You had never wanted to be one of those people, a girl with a huge crush on her coworker, but then you’d meet Spencer Reid. A year ago, you’d waved at him instead of shaking his hand when Hotch had introduced the two of you, and you’d felt the first flutter of butterflies. You had tried desperately to ignore your feelings, but the more you got to know him, the harder you fell. And then, about two months ago, you’d become another cliche. The girl who was sneaking around and secretly hooking up with her coworker. 

Now you were trying to avoid touching your knee against his as you sat on the plane on the way home from a case. The last time you’d simply accidentally brushed your hand against his, it had been like an electrical shock between the two of you. So it is just easier to avoid touching at all costs while in the presence of your other coworkers. 

The words in the book that you’re holding in your hands are absolute gibberish as you can’t focus on anything except the way Spencer’s hands glide over the page of notes he’s re-reading. You've always known he has captivating hands, but now you know intimately just how capable those hands were. This case was long, and before that, Spencer had been at a conference for four days. He hasn’t touched you in almost a week, and you’re becoming impatient. But you both had wisely made the promise that as long as you were on clock, so to say, you were only coworkers and nothing more. 

You look up as you hear him say your name. 

“Would you mind reading over this? I’m not sure it makes any sense.” He hands you his leather bound notebook. You place your book on your lap and look over into his eyes. 

“Me? I really don’t think I’m the person who…” 

Spencer interrupts you, “I trust your opinion.” It’s a simple statement, but it sets your skin aflame all the same. To hide your reaction, you focus on reading Spencer’s notes. 

“I think it’s great, Spencer. But you’re presenting this to college students, so I think it would be beneficial to use examples they may have heard in the news or at least know ‘cause of the insane amount of Netflix documentaries.” You roll your eyes as you mention the oversaturation of true crime television. But then suddenly you feel self-conscious and hand back his notebook. “I mean, I don’t know. It’s just a small idea.” 

“No, it’s insightful. You’re brilliant.” You can feel your skin heat in embarrassment, not comfortable with the compliment. Compliments often make you uneasy and you don’t know why. Well, that’s not entirely true, but you didn’t feel like profiling yourself to better understand this aspect. 

Spencer’s eyes observe you, and you watch as his tongue slips out and wets his bottom lip as he thinks. “I mean it.” He emphasizes. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly.   

“Good girl.” The words glide from Spencer’s mouth almost absent-mindedly and barely audible as he returns to his work. If he notices how much deeper your blush becomes, he doesn’t say anything. And you pretend you didn’t even hear him, or else you might make a fool of yourself.

Several hours later, you’re finally back at your apartment and getting into pajamas. As you pull a tank top over your head, you allow your mind to think about Spencer.

Good girl. 

He said it so flippantly, practically under his breath. Did he even mean for you to hear it? Did he know how it would make your heart hammer? You play it over again and again, letting yourself bask in the feeling. 

There’s a knock on your door, so you quickly pull on an old pair of yoga pants and race to your door. A brisk glance through your peephole causes that all too familiar heart tremor. Dr. Spencer Reid at your door, as though you’d summoned him with your thoughts. 

You swing open the door and let your eyes trail down his body. 

“I meant it.” He says immediately. 

“What do you mean?” You want to reach for him. He’s still dressed for work, and it takes everything in you not to wrap your fingers around his tie and pull him into your apartment. 

“When I called you brilliant.” He replies casually. 

“You came all this way to call me brilliant?” 

He smirks. “No, I came all this way to do this,” as he talks he steps toward you. 

You let a small breath of anticipation escape before he has his hands on either side of your face and is pressing his lips to yours. Your own hands find their way first to grasp at his waist and then around to his back, pulling him impossibly closer to you, desperate for the feel of his body against yours. The harsh sharp lines of him melding into the soft, lush curves of you. 

He moves you further into your apartment, shuts your door, and then pushes you up against the cool wood of the door, all without pulling his lips away from yours. Goosebumps spring to life across your skin as your body tries to process the head spinning sensation of the warmth of his body, combining with the chill of the door against your back. His hands are in your hair, possessive and needy, and you moan into his mouth. 

You feel the puffs of breath against your mouth as he laughs softly and then pulls away, his hands come to rest between your neck and shoulders. “I’ve missed you.” 

A small smile curves your freshly kissed lips. “It’s been like two hours since I saw you.” 

“I’ve missed being able to touch you.” He amends. The thumb of his right hand starts to move up and down the skin of your neck, and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating. His eyes search your face. “Did you like it when I called you a good girl?” 

Your lips part as if to reply, but no words come out. 

“Answer me.” He demands softly, his words are never harsh, but they still hold a sense of power. 

“Yes. I liked it,” you admit. 

He continues to watch you as his mind works, and then he makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “And would you like me to call you a good girl more often?” 

Need and want pools low in your belly, but you take a second to wet your lips before answering. You want your voice to come across as strong and sure, so there is no question that you want this. “Yes, please.” 

Your head is swimming in the overwhelming sensation of his lips back on yours in a matter of seconds. His hands explore your body, grazing and grasping onto your breasts before settling on your hips. He uses his knee to push your legs apart, and you move without resistance. A guttural moan breaks free from your throat as that same knee connects with the place that has been begging for friction since the moment Spencer put his hands on you. 

Spencer breaks away from the kiss. “You’re so beautiful when you moan like that,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses, licks, and nips along your jaw and neck. 

Your hips jerk involuntarily, but it instantly causes a wave of pleasure as you slide against him. “Do that again, baby.” You do as you’re told and again and again. His mouth continues across your clavicle, and then lower until his teeth scrape against one of your nipples over the fabric of your tank top. You gasp and push yourself closer to him, but he pulls away. 

He lowers himself to the ground as he works to push down your yoga pants. As soon as you step out of them, the pants are thrown across the room, Spencer not bothering to pay attention. All of his attention is on you. 

“Look at you, pretty girl.” His thumb traces over the damp spot in your underwear while his other hand travels up your leg, sending zaps of pleasure straight to your core. 

“All for me?” His eyes flash up to yours. 

“I’m yours,” you answer. 

“That’s my good girl.” You twist your hands into his hair when his mouth makes contact with your still clothed pussy, his tongue swiping against you. He only teases you for a second before he can’t take it anymore and pulls down your underwear to be able to taste you without a barrier. The room fills with the obscene sounds of him lapping at your core as he lavishes praises on you in between licking and sucking. “So perfect, so goddamn perfect.” 

You throw your head back with a deep moan. 

Spencer continues, undisturbed. “Yes. Keep moaning for me. I want your neighbors to hear how good you are for me.” His tongue circles and caresses your clit. “Do you want my fingers inside of you? Tell me.” 

“Yes, oh god. Fuck. Spencer.” You can’t think straight. The only thing your brain is capable of is focusing on how good you feel. 

Spencer obliges your request and plunges two fingers into you. Your fingers tighten in his hair. “I can’t believe how wet you are. And you’re taking my fingers so good. I bet you’d take my cock even better.” He hooks his fingers and massages against the swollen pressure point inside you. 

You lean forward over him, trying to keep your legs steady. 

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” You simply nod your head even though he can’t see with his face buried in your pussy. “You’re gonna come all over my face and my fingers because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 

Your legs shake, but Spencer uses his free hand to hold onto your hip and hold you steady. 

“It’s okay, you can let go. I’ve got you.” His fingers buried deep within you speed up and he focuses all of his attention on the pattern of his tongue against your clit, ramping up the building pleasure that’s threatening to bubble over. “You’ve made such a mess, a beautiful mess. Look at you, so good. So good.” 

You clench around him. “Yes, that’s it. I want you to come. Just like that.” You jerk against his fingers and jaw as the pressure cascades and overflows inside you. His name is the only thing you can say in between your moans. “I love when you say my name when you come.” His fingers slow their pace, and his mouth becomes less frantic as he guides you through your orgasm and the small after-shocks. 

When he finally pulls away completely, you watch slack-jawed as he takes his two fingers and puts them in his slick mouth, cleaning away traces of you. “Tasting you makes me so hard, I love it.” You lean back against the door with a smile. 

“Do you want me to help with that?” 

He laughs. “I’m not even close to finishing with you, my beautiful girl.” When he starts to reach for you, you grab onto his tie first and pull him closer. You work on his tie as you kiss his mouth, tasting the remnants of yourself.

In a matter of seconds, you have his tie off and thrown into the abyss, your shaking fingers focusing on unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes watch as you strip him of his shirt and then pull on his belt. But he can’t keep his hands off you, and they create a path over your skin. You undo the clasp, the tingling sound of metal like a beckoning call. 

After taking off his belt and letting it drop to the floor, you also head toward the floor onto your knees. Spencer’s hand’s end up in your hair, and your hands travel up his thighs to the noticeable bulge in his pants. “Do you see what you do to me? Only you can make me this hard.” 

You bite your bottom lip and work to take off his pants and underwear as he kicks off his shoes. Your eyes look up to his eyes, and he smiles at you. “Go on, I know you’re desperate for it.” One hand holds onto the base of him as your tongue circles the pink tip. He lets out a sharp breath at the contact. 

You watch his reactions, flicking and teasing his head, gathering the stickiness of his precum on his tongue. Then you circle your lips around him and inch down, your hand sliding up and down on him to meet your mouth. His mouth is wide open as he watches you, the eye contact between the two of you almost overwhelming. Your body doesn’t seem to care that you just had an earth-shattering orgasm because you can feel the steady thrum of need building. 

“Are you getting wet again just from sucking me off?” You nod and take him deeper in your mouth, the hand resting on his thigh feels a muscle twitch. “You have the perfect mouth.” His fingers in your hair pull slightly, not enough to cause pain, but just enough to cause you to moan on his dick. 

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come down that pretty throat.” You moan again, and he makes a low humming noise. “Is that what you want, sweet girl?” 

You pull off of him, a string of spit following you, “yes.” You take both hands and twist and stroke up and down him with a smile on your messy lips. 

“Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out flat. He takes his two fingers and sticks them in your mouth, and you instantly start to suck on them, never stopping the motion of your hands. “My perfect, beautiful girl.” He mutters and then pulls his fingers from your mouth. Before you can put your mouth back on him, he’s stepping away and then helping you stand up. 

When you’re on your feet, he kisses you slowly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, and you reach down with one hand to continue to stroke him. He breaks the kiss and lightly guides you to turn around and bend over, using your hands to hold yourself up on the door. “You’re so good for me. Stay there.” You look over your shoulder and watch him find his pants to grab a condom. He quickly unwraps it and slides it on before returning to you. 

He glides his hands over the back of your thighs and over your ass appreciatively, then squeezes your ass. “Are you going to take all of me?” The whispers tickling the back of your neck as he leans over you toward your ear, you shiver against him. 

“Yes.” 

He trails a hand down your spine as he pulls away and then helps you to set your legs further apart. You bite your lip, so ready for him, when he squeezes your hips. Both of you moan deeply as he guides himself into you, inching himself in until he’s seated completely. His hands are back on your hips, holding you in place. He leans forward and places a kiss on your back. He whispers in your ear again, “now you’re gonna be a good girl for me, and you’re not gonna come until I tell you you can. Do you understand?” 

You nod swiftly. 

He presses another kiss. “Words please, sweet girl.” 

“I understand.” 

He stands fully and slowly starts to pull himself out of you, dragging against every inch of your core. When he’s out fully, he pushes forward, again at that agonizing slow pace. You squirm against him, needing more. “You think you can take all of it, baby?” 

“Yes. Yes. Please. Please.” 

“You’re so beautiful begging for me.” You think he’s going to continue to tease you, but he doesn't. He starts to move faster and faster, building up a steady rhythm. Your nails scratch against the wood of your door. “That’s it, so good. I only ever feel this good with you. Only you can take my dick like this. You take it so perfect.” He gasps and rambles as he pumps into you. 

The base of your spine zaps pleasure through your body and you shake on him. 

“Don’t come yet, baby. Not yet. I could spend forever inside you.” 

You feel your arms start to get weak, but Spencer holds so tight on you that you know that you’re stable. “I need to –” you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“I know. I know. But you can wait, I know you can. Do you know how I know you can?” 

You shake your head. 

“Because you’re my good girl.” You press your lips together and moan. “Yeah, and you’re gonna wait until I tell you. And then you’re going to touch that swollen little clit of yours. It’s aching isn’t it.” 

“Yes!” You practically shout. “Spencer, please.” 

“Beg again.” 

“Please. Spencer. Oh god, please. I need it. I need it.” 

“Touch your clit, baby.” You cry out as soon as one of your hands makes contact. “You still can’t come, honey.” 

You whimper, but try so hard not to give yourself over to the pleasure. 

“You’re all mine, aren’t you.” 

“Yes, yours all yours. Only yours forever.” 

He bites out a harsh moan, and you know he’s trying just as hard as you to keep it together. “You look so pretty.” The words are just rambles, almost imperceptible. “Come for me. Come all over me.” 

You do so instantly, Spencer tightens his grip on you to hold you steady as you lose yourself in the feeling. He comes with whimpers and sighs and deep grunts. When he finally stops moving, your legs are gelatinous, so he holds you tight against him, your back against his chest. He pulls out of you and then turns you around in his arms. 

“You’re perfect.” He peppers light kisses across your face and lips and neck. “You did so good.” His hands are wrapped around you, both holding you steady but also keeping close to him. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, and he kisses your lips fully. When he pulls away, you open your eyes and look up into his eyes. “Are you okay?” He checks in softly. 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” He kisses you again chastely. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Another kiss and his hands massage down your back and your hips, checking to see if you’re sore. 

“I’m fine.” You answer before he can ask. 

“Did you like that,” he asks earnestly. 

“I loved it.” 

He smiles brightly and you match it. “Are you hungry?” 

“Starving.”

[somegrumpynerd]

I really want Nightmare and Dream to freaky friday swap into each other's bodies and have to deal with their enemies from the other side.

Like Dream is trying to get used to one eye and being encased in goop and how do you control these tentacles and every few minutes one of the boys appears to ask for something or show him something or just hang around him. He's trying his best to sound professional and stern (it's not a great impression) but also he feeds off negativity now right?? So why does it sting so much when they're around him?

Meanwhile Nightmare is goop-free and seeing in two eyes for the first time in centuries (and probably takes twice as long to do things because he forgets he doesn't have tentacles anymore). He's trying to sound upbeat and cheery (again, not a great impression) but also good grief people really bother Dream for things. It seems like every way he turns there's somebody who needs something or has a sob story or a complaint, and he's beginning to realise why Dream protects Blue so violently how are you emitting all this positivity please don't leave me. Also where is Ink. Every five minutes where is he what is he doing.

[ivanttakethis]

Till uses his microphone stand in Round 6 to act as his anchor, his sense of stability, his last lifeline to a world he's pretty much given up on.

It gives him something to focus on to drown out the crowd and the rain (and probably even Ivan). On stage, it's one of the only things he has complete control over.

But then it’s taken away.

When Ivan threw his microphone stand away, he threw Till's away too.

The kiss. The sacrifice. The silence that followed.

Till lost his anchor. He’s completely unmoored.

In Round 7, he doesn’t get that stability back. With a headset instead of a microphone stand, Till lacks any sort of control.

He has nothing to hold onto. Nothing to ground him.

Idle hands are the devil’s playthings…

[avocadoraisin]

my friend wanted me to draw M3GAN meeting Jason or Michael lmao

[pcerise]

MORE amethios

[housecow]

Who says you have to be one or the other? I think you could have lots of fun transitioning between a housebound cow on oxygen and the fattest soccer mom possible. Maybe it’s all in the timing, maybe start out as a housebound cow and shift into soccer mom mode later.

okay, this is hot as fuck. getting to experience the limits of what my body can handle and then losing a portion of the weight—not too much, just enough to be easily mobile again, managing my health as well. but i’m still, what, 350-400lbs?

the whispers i’d hear from the other parents… “she’s such a fucking cow,” “how much do you think she weighs?” “there’s just so much… flab!”

and little do they know this is my lightest from the last few years. that i’d been 600lbs at some point, needing help up from bed and from anywhere i’d plopped down to feast. that my husband had plumped me up to obscene numbers, reveling in the fact i was dependent on him for almost everything.

my present soft, full, wobbling figure is the result of hard work. not only to get active, but in denying both myself and my spouse. we know what we want, but it’s for the kids now! they need a mom that can keep up with them. sure, i get winded easily, can’t see my feet or even past my tits, but this is an improvement!!

others just see my huffing and puffing as a failure, when it’s the opposite. it takes dedication. the extra wide folding chair i pull out at every soccer game was bought with pride, and the way my husband squeezes that back roll he gifted me is comforting.

sure, it still takes a lot of food to keep up with being 400lbs… i still eat like a pig. sonic shakes at every game and countless fast food runs before 3:30pm school pickup. i RSVP to neighborhood/school bbqs and they have to spend double the amount on food (we chip in!) but it’s all a labor of love!

plus, when it’s just my feeder and i, he gets to tease me about it all. talks about how hot it was when i needed the walker. how much of a shut in i was compared to now—“remember when you couldn’t even drive because your belly was in the way?”

he’d lay a hand on my still-formidabile tummy, stretched out from the hundreds of lbs and a few of his kids. i know he wants so badly to get me back there, i can tell what he’s thinking. and if he started that process—funneling every night, telling me what to eat and when—i wouldn’t be able to stop him. but we’re responsible :3

[oldbutchdaniel]

Do you have any DM fic recs perchance....

anon i have sooooo many. here are a few random ones for tonight's reading pleasure:

cranefucker island circa '82 by katplanet

this one's part of the most crazy awesome series of all time, and i'd recommend the whole thing, but this part and specifically the last chapter made me so overwhelmed with DM feelings i genuinely wept and got nauseous. been thinking about it a lot so much lately

love me like you did (i'll give you anything) by pinkmoons aka @armandology

think about the end of this one often and it restores my hope in love and the world and the future to be honest

crawl into the birdcage by englishsummerrain aka @dykemarderozan

i've recced this one before AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN!!! can't express how much this changed my real world view of tv verse devil's minion. and the writing is crazy as always

Baby you can drive my car by Thunder__Puss

to be honest i read this one high as shit in the car with my boss but it was so awesome and enthralling i was like ohhh my god. oh fuck. holy shit. all the way through. i think i felt like i was there due to the quality of writing and the fact that i was high. i would like to reread it and you also should

immortal and life size by anonymous

i think i've slyly recced this one before but i can't rec it enough. we NEED to talk about corpsefucker daniel way more often than we do. and this one based off of a song from luke brandon field's daniel playlist no less. it's crazy work

[samijey]

#thoughts and prayers for Kit's poor hand