#this idea is rotting my brain

[infinite-orangepeel]

to keep you angels fed:

eaglescout!steve will be wearing a purity ring and perv!eddie will suck it off his finger in the sloppiest way possible and replace it with one of his own rings in the full fic :) this is his way of claiming him !

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Okay you can’t tell me that Vlad doesn’t have an organ somewhere in his mansion. Upon learning of this, Danny would teach himself how to play the Haunted Mansion theme on the organ and play it at 2am.

Vlad Masters is away on business in Gotham, and the Fentons are coincidentally there for a symposium on ecto-activity. So it’s perfect! Except he goes to the wrong house, er mansion.

Honestly, Danny thought it was one of Vlad’s many mansions. Scaring the old man is his favorite activity after all. There’s a higher amount of ectoplasm here, so it has to be Vlad’s place right?

When Bruce comes out (on one of his few nights off) and sees his carbon copy playing the organ, all thoughts fly out of his head. Danny finally looks up and also blue screens. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity until Danny’s cell phone rings (the ghostbusters theme??) and he panics. He jumps up and makes a break for the other door rushing through apologies “SorryWronghousegottagobye!” And runs out of the room. “Wait! Who are you?”Bruce exclaims as he rushes after him. They’re on the second story in one of the rooms he rarely uses. How did he know where the organ was? No matter. He’ll catch the kid on the stairs.

Except the kid is already almost at the bottom. How did he get down so effortlessly? The kid practically floated down the stairs.

Bruce gets to the foyer just in time to see the kid realize the door was dead-bolted in multiple spots. He won’t be able to undo them all before Bruce catches up to him.

He slows down and stands behind a pillar, assessing his next move. He needs to be careful here. This is a child after all, no need to spook him any more than he already has. He needs to slowly approach, and ask his questions.

But then the kid does the unexpected. After looking around frantically, he takes a deep breath. Two rings form around his middle and travel up and down his body. His black hair turns ghostly white. He looks back, almost directly at Bruce. His eyes widen as if he realizes he’s being watched. He whispers, barely loud enough to hear, “I’m so sorry, please don’t follow me.” Then, he backs through the locked door and vanishes.

[saewokhrisz]

swing with me

[juniemunie]

more deltarune sansnomaly cuz its feeding the ideas a lot

bonus:

[rafey-baby]

clumsy

cw: yoga instructor!Rafe being touchy and suggestive (is he even talking about yoga atp?)

wc: 890

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

Thinking thoughts about yoga instructor!Rafe who’s always correcting clumsy!reader’s posture with a warm palm on her waist. Pushing her forward with a soft press of his big hand against her back; tapping her thigh to get her to switch into a better position.

Heady breaths tickling her ear when he mumbles out advice on how to get the stretch to feel deeper, murmuring soft words of encouragement in a certain cadence that makes her tingle, something profound in her tummy flutter. 

He’d mumble out insane things that never fail to make her brain short-circuit. 

“This one’s a bit of a harder one but I know you can take it, yeah?” 

“Shit, you’re getting so good at this.” 

“You feel that?”

She signed up for the yoga class in order to help her achy muscles relax a bit, not expecting the instructor to be so…hot (for the lack of better words). Therefore, che can’t possibly focus her attention on his directions since all she can concentrate on is the way his muscles ripple under his shirt and his beefy forearms flex whenever he’d demonstrate a new pose with sweat glittering on his forehead. 

He’d make rounds around class and help everyone get their form right and whenever he’d get to her his hands would always linger for longer than necessary, making her assume she simply needed more assistance since she hadn’t really been paying attention when he was explaining it at the front.

“Clumsy little thing, huh?” He’d playfully mock her when the minute his hands weren’t supporting her she’d stumble on her feet.

Then one day after class when nearly everyone’s left and there’s only a few people loitering around, gathering their things, Rafe pads over to her.

She’s in the midst of taking a sip from her water bottle and his tall frame approaching her makes her look up; he’s clad in a black pair of workout shorts and a dark grey t shirt. Her gaze stalls on the way his tongue pokes out to lick over his pillowy lips.

“Hey, so I thought I could go over that one pose with you one more time. Just so you really get it for next time, yeah?” He suggests, merely wanting to help out the poor girl who’s always struggling in the back of his class. 

“Oh, um— sure,” she answers, embarrassment painting over her features because she knows exactly what he’s referring to; a specific position where she had toppled over and hit the floor, making Rafe’s eyes widen in concern and the other people around her gasp and ask if she was okay. 

It didn’t really even hurt that much, she thinks. At least not as much as her flimsy ego that got bruised up in the midst of it all, trying to cover up how humiliated she had felt with a small laugh, climbing back up to stand on wobbly legs accompanied by a flushed face.  

At this point they’re the only people left and she suddenly feels all too nervous because she’s never been alone with him before. Her inhales and exhales are turning labored, intractable. And she’s not sure whether her clamorous respiration is echoing in the empty room or in the empty halls of her mind. She mentally crosses her fingers and wishes it’s the latter, stepping on top of her shamrock-colored yoga mat. 

“So, what you wanna do is concentrate your weight on this leg, so you don’t lose your balance,” he taps her right thigh and she nearly stumbles on her feet once again; the corners of his mouth tugging up. “And then bend the other one right here, you think you can do that?” 

“Mhm,” she hums as she moves her limbs in the way he’s patiently instructing her to. 

“Just like that,” blue hydrangea eyes are glued to her, making her think he can read right through her as she swallows at the praise. 

“Then, you gotta lean your weight here,” he settles a hearty hand on her right upper arm, thumb mindlessly skating over her burning skin as she does just that. 

“There you go, Bambi,” he murmurs and a pomegranate tinge blushes over her cheeks at the nickname, rounded eyes trying to blink away the haze that clouds over them. 

“You feel it here?” His fingertips graze over her inner thigh and she manages a nod, limbs feeling mellow and spongy all of a sudden.

“Good, good,” he breathes out and her brain turns into a knotted ball of wool at his intoxicating proximity. 

”And if you ever feel like you’re gonna fall, just focus on a specific spot on the floor or the wall or anything, it’ll help, alright?” The words sound almost gravelly when he rasps them out as his palms rest on her waist, strong arms steadying her. 

”Okay…thanks,” she manages out, sucking in some air her lungs are screaming for since apparently she’s forgotten how important breathing is. 

He then pushes her forward a little, making her let out a small noise from the back of her throat in surprise. The sudden stretch of the position she’s now in making her gasp.

“I know, feels good, huh?” 

”Uh— yeah,” she squeaks out, feeling the cotton material of her panties dampening at the way he’s speaking to her; her thoughts turning into something indecent, muddy...

[courtmartialme]

i'm not late for royai day if every day is royai day to me 🔥🪶 also for royai week day 1 - raison d'être

[chromxena]

leaked screenshot from long awaited akechi game!

(i saw this and i could NOT resist. this is canon to me)

[definitely-a-real-man]

I’ve crawled out of the smoldering depths of hell and clawed my sanity back enough to make art again. Let’s fucking go! 😭

[multidimensionbb]

New Mini Event: The Great MCYT WIP Purge

Hello everyone! Luna here! I had an idea for a new mini event, and this time, it's all about the WIPs!

We all know fanartists/writers of all stripes habitually struggle to finish WIP(Works In Progress)s. I know I certainly do. After one too many stressful nights where I agonized over projects I'd forever left unfinished, I came to a solution: AN EVENT!

This event is all about finishing the WIPs! They can be any length, any medium, any MCYT corner--anything! There are no word limits, no finish levels, no nothing--all that matters is that you finish it to your comfort level so it stops haunting you at night (or maybe that's just me, who knows).

If you're a perfect angel who doesn't have any WIPs (lucky you) or you want to help someone else beat their demonic art block with a stick, you can sign up to be a part of the hype squad! Each participant will be assigned a member of the hype squad based on their interests (which will be determined similarly to a big bang, because I apparently love torturing myself with spreadsheets). The hype squad will help the participants with brainstorming and advice when they need it, because making stuff is always more fun with a designated partner in crime!

You can be a hype squad member and a participant if you'd like, just make sure you have enough energy to do both, okay? No burnout! You may also sign up with a pre-selected hype squad and save me a bit of a headache, if you already have a friend you'd like to run with.

If any of this sounds interesting to you, fill out the interest check linked below to help me out! It'll be open until the 15 of August, so you've got two weeks to decide! I hope you guys find this event as helpful as I do. We can do this together :^D

[katabay]

sam winchester, laptoppin it up :)

I feel like it's either extremely obvious that I've watched all 15 seasons of spn (11 of them as they were airing on tv) or somehow Not Obvious, despite the fact that I semi regularly reference it in one way or another.

god. anyway. sam. I will never recover from the poetic tragedy of sam. praying while being marked down as lucifer's vessel. the constant focus on wanting to be clean, the way free will versus pre-determination is in a constant state of narrative friction just by his character existing. the scope of horror in being damned and doomed before you were even born, by your own mother. wow. character of all time.

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app

[lydiannettelizabeth]

Pjsekai magical girl au where all the leaders are recruited by miku to be magical girls send tweet

[fishyupmywishy]

Accidental Hero AU

I want a fic of Azula getting worse.

Like she’s down right terrible. Completely evil and she knows that. She revels in being horrible. She was going to prove her mother right. That Azula truly is a monster.

Except…

Everything she does ends up becoming something that was good.

She bombed a building and killed a bunch of people?

The building was full of human traffickers that were about to kidnap a ton of kids.

She kidnapped a noble?

The noble thought she was going to torture them and immediately spills out their plans to steal tax money from the citizens.

And Azula grows more and more frustrated because everything she does ends up being something that makes the world a better place when all she wants is to watch it all burn. Like she truly believes she is irredeemable and has no interest in getting better because if she wasn’t wanted when she wasn’t evil, why should she bother being good at all?

(and if it ends with maizulee or any other sapphic Azula ship, well🤷‍♀️)

Accidental Hero Azula sounds absolutely hilarious to me

[izzystizzys]

“…I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I still don’t quite understand”, Fox says, for what must be the dozenth time that hour. His heartbeat pounds behind his eyes in an incessant drum of hurt, and his head aches with every breath like someone’s taken a rusty fork to the inside of his skull and raked his brain out. Fox’ eyes are beginning to burn the way they start doing around hour 80 of a shift, and he has to suppress the brief urge to check over his shoulder. Not even Stabby could come up with a ploy this contrived to make him sleep. Probably.

In front of him, General Grievous coughs awkwardly, long spindly durasteel limbs shivering with its force. “Certainly”, he vocalizes, in that deep, watery cadence. “For your glorious triumphs in battle, your awe-inspiring victory over me in close combat, and your undeniable warrior spirit, I accept you as my consort. I have proven my skills through the ritual capture, and thus, by Kaleesh custom, we are now wed, Commander Fox. I will honor you as my war-bride, and visit vengeance upon your enemies. I swear it to you.”

Expectantly, Grievous tilts his faceplate to the side, and Fox only just catches the suppression of the manic giggle that wants to escape him. Yeah, probably not Stabby - maybe a dying fever dream? Has the infected gash from that skirmish on the lower levels five rotations ago finally decided to end him? If so, it’s not fast enough for Fox’ tastes.

Here’s how it happened: Fox has no kriffing clue. All he knows is one moment an emergency alert tore him from precious Scream Closet time this morning, he went to rescue the Chancellor’s dumb ass again, and whoop, here he is on General Grievous’ ship with the war-criminal himself declaring them happily married. And eyeing him up and down like a piece of candy.

Why, Fox thinks, desperately, does this always have to happen to me?!

Chancellor’s still kidnapped, by the way. Fox has other priorities for the time being.

“I swear to aim my weapons in your service”, Grievous continues, when it becomes exceedingly clear Fox is not going to break out of his shocked stupor anytime soon. “I swear to aim true and strike with murderous intent, I swear to uphold the sacred bonds of our clans in the name of our union, I swear to raise a strong, bloodthirsty brood of warriors with-“

“Wait”, Fox interrupts, once his brain has caught up past the astromech dial-up sound it seems to be playing on repeat. “Uphold clan bonds? You murder your way through my brothers like a rabid nexu on spice on the regular!”

Grievous’ faceplate, which should be for all intents and purposes totally expressionless, does something that reminds Fox strangely of contrition. It has him gaping and shivering in discomfort, in any case. “A fact I regret, but acknowledge lies in my past before the fateful crossing of our paths. I am a warrior at soul, you must understand, my worthy mate.” Durasteel faceplates don’t turn soft. They don’t. And coughs don’t sound loving. They simply do not. “But I uphold the bonds of these sacred vows under Kaleesh law, that I swear to you, my beloved.”

“All I did was grapple you to the ground”, Fox says, mourningly. “Cody has kicked you in the head dozens of times and you’ve never tried to marry him.”

“He is not you, and his battle lacks the lustful vitality and love of violence of yours”, Grievous declares, and Fox really cannot tell whether the sound that erupts from him is a lovelorn sigh or a hacking death-gurgle. This cannot be his life.

Just then, a droid conveniently enters, putting a pause to all Fox’ sufferings. He’ll need to tell Thorn to research Kaleesh divorce proceedings. Or, better yet - he needs to blow up this whole karking ship including himself and destroy all evidence of this ever happening.

“Generals Kenobi and Skywalker awaiting in custody, Sir”, says the droid, nervously. “They are here to rescue Chancellor Palpatine, but we cut them off just out of the hangar bay.”

Internally, Fox rolls his eyes so hard it hurts his brain. “The Jedi can wait”, Grievous hacks out, and for once Fox agrees with him. Let the two dick around onboard, there’s bigger issues at hand.

“But Sir”, says the droid, all twitchy with an anxiety Fox eternally wonders who the kriff programmed into the damn things, “what if they try to escape and -“

A deep, growling noise erupts from deep within Grievous’ massive metal chest, amplifying Fox’ pounding headache by a thousandfold. “I have no time for this”, he snarls at the cowering droid. “Remove yourself from my and mine beloved’s sight.”

“Roger Roger”, the B2 squeaks, hesitantly, before adding on - “The Chancellor-“

Harrumphing petulantly, Grievous stomps one massive, clawed foot and makes what feels like the whole viewdeck shake. “I will twist his head off his body like a rotten fruit”, he declares. “That will get those pesky Jedi off my ship faster, and then we can continue saying our vows.” He pauses, thoughtfully, and then hooded eyes ringed by what must surely be rotten flesh fix on Fox inexorably. “It will be my wedding gift to you, beloved, an offering of peace to your brothers.”

Fox opens his mouth to protest, but quickly snaps it shut again when his husband already turns tail and storms off.

Huh. Maybe this marriage thing isn’t all bad.

[theoneofshame]

“I hate touching people, Harry” he says, his words contradicted with a thumb tracing the veins in Harry’s left wrist, Voldemort's attention to the blue web underneath the skin as intense and focused as he is in all things. 

Harry finds his voice while watching the movement. “But not me.”

Voldemort’s eyes slide away to stare past the burning horizon even as the grip entwining their hands remains cold iron. “No… not you,” is said with detached calm. Voldemort’s thin fingers flutter against Harry’s pulse, tapping out silent notes. It's good to know they're both uncomfortable. It banishes further insecurities from plaguing Harry. Helps him keep his head. 

Together in the dusk of a dying day, they’re alone. Without a soul around them, the rest of the world slips away. There’s no Dursleys, no judging masses to have to play savior to. He doesn’t have to be the Chosen One here. It makes Harry feel brave. He needs to ask.

“Why?”

Voldemort shuts his eyes. “As if you don’t already know.” He says it like it hurts. Maybe it did. 

Harry tightens the hold and cranes his neck to take in Voldemort's profile, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression. “Tell me anyway,” he whispers.

[reyl0ct]

The boys get a new case and for some reason the cat king shows up and he's bored and decides to join them on said case, despite their protests. The case turns out to be a Ghost haunting a house, oh and did I mention the house is full of dolls that the owner used to collect. The boy find themselves in a room full of dolls and of course the door jams and Edwin starts having a full blown panic attack trying to get out of the room. He slides down the door and almost hysterical.

"I can't do this case Charles! I can't! I have to get out of here, I can't breathe!" He is probably crying at this point.

Charles of course is trying to calm and soothe him, hands on his shoulders trying to shake him back to reality.

And see The Cat King has no idea about horror that is the spider made of dolls that ripped Edwin apart piece by piece in hell. However, he does NOT like the way Edwin is literally shaking and crying. So he yanks Charles cricket bat out of his hand and proceeds to smash every single doll to nothing but dust and a few pieces of porcelain here and there. The cat king notices the room has gone quiet. He looks over to see both Charles and Edwin staring at him.

Charles is looking at him mildly impressed and perhaps respect? And Edwin is looking at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, like he is his new hero and, oh yes, the cat king can definitely get used to that look. Maybe he should join these cases more often~

👀

[rebouks]

♦ simulated dreams ♦