#words cannot express how much I love this

[angelesca]

need sunday's touch so bad but he is being emo about it

wc: ~1370 // content & warnings!: pining, so close yet so far grr, sunday x gn!reader, pet name("little bird"), kissing n' touching but nothing explicit, slow burn-ish a/n: i wrote this as a sequel in mind (part 1 here), but you could likely read this as a standalone. however, i make references to part 1 so it would probably flow nicer ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

"SUNDAY," YOU FIRMLY STOOD YOUR GROUND, "WE CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE."

the stars shone in sunday's eyes, shining golden with undying devotion to your sacred temple. between yours and his desperate eyes, millions of unspoken words traversed back and forth.

in his room, your hands gripped both arms of his chair, confronting him face-to-face. today, you will shatter your fears.

his eyes lowered, face tilted away. "i do not know what you are referring to."

your eyebrows furrowed. "don't give me that excuse."

you were both trying to hinder the fierce, unbreaking desire to tip the edges, testing patience.

all the emotions you have clutched in your heart weighed down on you, and it punished you the more you realised your fondness for sunday. when your eyes searched for him - and there he was - in the shadows without fail. when you caught the lift of his lips, cheeks, and eyes as your gazes met. and you do not realise how your smile naturally jumped higher until he abruptly left you alone. to acknowledge how much his presence affected you.

it constricted you slowly, a vice that gradually tightened as days passed. the love you reserved for sunday cast pain and joy - a double-edged sword.

"do you hate me?" you asked, resolute, yet trembling at the thought of his response confirming your anxieties.

sunday's eyes narrowed, questioning the nonsense you were spewing, tracing your hazy expression to figure you out.

"then why do you avoid me so?" you asked, "you have never stood within even arm's length. you have never handed me anything in person. you have never picked me up when i fell over. and... "

always so close but never there, your mouth opened but did not convey these last words. you shut your eyes momentarily. "i don't get it. please, tell me, anything please, just some words to explain this silent distance between us."

sunday's stare softened, wordlessly embracing your vulnerability. however, he was conflicted on whether to comfort you. to indulge in this new light at the end of the tunnel, which you forlornly wrenched with your hands, would be to infringe upon your divinity. his hands that have known endless suffering and sacrifice, could never dare to brush yours unless he craved to provoke the gods.

sunday paused a moment before announcing: "i will be leaving soon coming the charmony festival."

"... what?"

his words parted a greater distance between you two.

your vision clouded. the vice - tightened. relentlessly. twisting deep into your weakness, stripping you bare of your guard. you were hearing crashing waves and everything tipped over all at once. this was it.

"if you're leaving, i respect your decision. but you cannot leave me like this," you replied, biting your lip, "do not leave me to wonder what your touch would've felt like." wetness coated your eyes.

"my hands are unclean. i cannot grant you this." sunday vowed. his fingers opened but withdrew them just as quickly.

"so stupid," you muttered. your chest exploded, "then just taint me. corrupt. with your 'blood and sin'. after all, i am no saint either."

your fingers ghosted over his pristinely gloved hand. hands that, which 'hid blood and sin', had never once sullied a speck of your blessed body, gravely frightened of dulling your radiance with the slightest trespass into your orbit.

"i am not some deity that needs sheltering. i am just another existence, just as you are." you finished.

sunday's eyes widened, thunderstruck. you articulated reason into his stubborn mind: you were no godly being. your brightness made him believe he was not worthy of you; you were on the far horizon that was unreachable to him. yet, you were just another existence, just as he was.

he spoke hesitantly, "of course not. you are one of the strongest people i have had the pleasure of knowing. i know of your gratuitous kindness, strength and bright eyes. you are not anything less," his voice withered, "i did not mean to discredit you."

"then what is stopping you from me?" you taunted.

your ears drowned out everything but the rapid lifts and falls, and the deep and shallow pacing of his breaths. his fingers twitched in response, attempting his hardest to restrain whatever fragile control he had left.

he did not think you would confront him like this. he believed living in your shadow would make him insignificant enough for you to forget him after his plans. but you both could not ever forget each other. how could he forget you at all? he did not plan for this. how stupid he was.

he listened to your breathing, mimicking as you did to his, pacifying his wavering worries. your comfort and company felt natural, like home. the sun was dimming and the stars began to set in your eyes as they whispered reassurances. the apprehension of tomorrow was blanketed by your steady voice which commanded mountains and soothed fires.

you had stood on his horizon, finally within reach, and he was right there with you. the waves were slowing in his ears - he had returned to your shore.

he swiped the tears varnishing your glistening eyes, but not close enough to touch your skin. he was about to let the scales tip in favour of you. "so you would not mind? you would not mind me?"

your eyes formed their crescent shape and sunday melted into it. "you can be so stupid sometimes."

fervours resonated, heartbeat-to-heartbeat, pulsing for one another's precious touch.

it pained both of you greatly to observe how the other needed, yearned, yet never touched.

magnetised, yet ill-fated to repel; parallel lines that would never meet; the inverse ebb and flow of day and night. the universe tried its hardest to work against them.

to brave beyond the barriers enforced by universal law would be to risk everything faithful in the world.

with one more breath, all fears finally shattered.

your touches finally found each other, joining at the horizon.

initially, awkwardness hung in the air. shuffling and shifting. fluttering fingers and bashful staring. contented smiles and chuckles at the unimaginable situation they had wandered into. like a mirror, reciprocating back and forth, neither knowing what to do. overwhelmed but delighted.

sunday decided to make the first venture. he gently unfastened his gloves, to your surprise, and you learned every scar, bump and discolouration on his bare hands. it was not hideous, nor did it bear any sin. it was only human.

your hand crawled up his palm and he quivered at first before settling into your solace. fingers instinctively intertwining - a key and lock that fit each other. his thumb grazed your knuckles. you drew along the lines of his lips and he released an unsteady breath, nestling into your touch.

the way his palm timidly sketched the outline of your body but did not initiate further. how he shrank as much as possible to house you on his lap. when he looked at you, infatuated, puppy-like, waiting for you to throw him a bone. anything. he was all yours to command.

so you shed your shame and press a kiss on the corner of his lips. you did not move far, lingering in front of his face. it took him by surprise, evident by the pink flush on his face and the fluttering of his wings above his ears. akin to a dog wagging its tail.

he inhaled deeply. an indiscernible look flashed on his face. his brilliant eyes eclipsed, darkening, and his face tipped over. his lips hovered by your ears, on the verge of precariously meeting if you did not back away.

"bad..." he mumbled, "you are a bad little bird."

electric ran up your spine as the words left his deceptively innocent lips. you sat up straight, at attention, the sensation of heat overriding your senses.

"a-ah..." you could only focus on the fire pooling below your stomach, writhing, as a tornado stormed your mind.

he pulled you closer. hands snaking up your shirt at an agonizingly slow rate, teasing you, corruption taking over.

"do not run away now. you will finish this mess that you have made."

and you and sunday crashed, collided, and met each other, all at once.

a/n: yikes this was longer than i hoped for. there are still many dynamics that i can envision with sunday but this was long enough. hopefully this fic makes someone happy out there ahaha ;'') thanks for reading!!😘

[zer0brainc3lls]

Dps yap session about how Todd’s relationship with Neil and Mr Keating (mainly Neil) grew his character because I’ll never stop thinking about it (spoilers for the book)

In the movie we all know Todd has issues with public speaking but in the book, it’s not just public speaking. It’s speaking to almost anyone in general. He stutters and pauses between sentences, even being unable to finish what he’s trying to say.

“I… would…. Prefer…. Rowing….. sir,” - Todd “rowing? Did he say rowing? But here it says you played soccer at Balincrest?” - Mr Nolan “I…. Did…. But….” - Todd

The dots are not exaggerated if you haven’t read the book. That’s how it’s shown. Now he doesn’t speak to everyone like this, mainly if he’s asked about an opinion or something of that nature, despite this he speaks softly almost all the time in the start of the book.

But as time goes on and he becomes closer to the dead poets + Mr Keating he opens up, he may not speak much in meetings and in classes doing anything publicly still scared him but he opens up more nonetheless.

Towards the halfway/end of the book he watches Neil find his own voice through acting, standing up to his father and watching Neil grow confident in himself he too becomes more confident. Even putting a lamp shade over his head just for fun, in front of people, being silly. (The lamp shade part is never talked about omg.)

When Neil is performing he even mouthes the lines to himself, even though he knows Neil needed no help. And at the end of the play TODD starts the standing ovation (I think? He’s definitely one of the first.) with a smile on his face, no embarrassment, no shame. Just happy for his best friend for standing up and finally being himself.

This was never shown in the movies but after the play he reaches out for Neil, trying to tell him how well he did and when Mr Perry’s car drives off he screams Neil’s name. In front of a crowd of people.

After the car scene they go back to the cave, not just the dead poets, Chris is there to (someone Todd barely knows!!!) and you know what Todd does? He expresses his anger. In full.

“Todd suddenly jumped up and pounded the walls with his fists. ‘Next time I see Neil's father I'm gonna smash him. I don't care what happens to me!’ ” after this, HE RECITES A POEM IN FRONT OF ALL HIS FRIENDS, MR KEATING AND CHRIS. (THIS WHOLE CAVE SCENE WAS SUCH A PIVOTAL MOMENT FOR TODDS CHARACTER IM SO MAD THEY FUCKING CUT IT)

Todd gained his own voice watching Neil and the dead poets gain theirs.

Then Neil died.

After Neil died? Todd lost his voice. Almost. He almost went back to stumbling his words, he almost went back to speaking softly. But whenever someone tried to speak ill of Neil or Mr Keating? HE WAS ON THEIR CASE.

“You don’t seriously think his father…” -knox “not with the gun! Damn it even if the bastard didn’t pull the trigger he..” - Todd

“ ‘Who else do you think, dumbo? The administration? Mr. Perry? Keating put us up to all this, didn't he? If it wasn't for him, Neil would be cozied up in his room right now, studying his chemistry and dreaming of being called doctor.’ - Cameron ‘That's not true! Mr. Keating tell Neil what to do. Neil loved acting.’ - Todd

And in the books he took a large punishment instead of signing the note to get Mr Keating fired and of course we cannot forget the desk scene at the end of the movie. Todd may never be the same as when Neil was alive and Mr Keating was still his teacher but he grew a confidence from them, even them no longer being apart of his life could take away the impact they had on him.

Idk if this yap session is a “yeah no shit” kind of thing but thanks for coming to my ted talk yall

[patrice-bergerons]

I keep thinking about just how much love and affection there is from Admiral Hennessy's side in that final confrontation with James, and how it makes the whole thing all the more devastating.

Had Hennessy responded to the news of James and Thomas' affair with revulsion and anger, it would have been easy, far easier, to cast him aside as a "villain" — both for us as the audience, and also I think, for James.

But earlier in the episode we hear that James considers him to be a father figure and here, right before they walk into that office with Alfred Hamilton waiting for them in it, knowing full well what James has done, he still calls James son:

Good God. You perceive the danger about this to be imagined. I told you when this began to be careful of those people. To be aware of just how sharp and unexpected the knife would be if you discounted that danger. I'd thought you'd heard me, son.

There is no reason for him to do that, not to someone he is about to permanently cast out of his life. Once they walk inside too, Hennesy's lips utter that terrible pronouncement but his expression, his voice is so gentle as he does it. Alfred Hamilton is in the room with them and what James has done is so outside cultural norms, it severely limits what Hennessy can say or do. Without uttering the words, this scene is yet another entry in the show's collection of "this is not what I wanted"s.

In fact, while AH would like to avoid the scandal of his son having a homosexual relationship, I have no doubt there were ways to hang James that would be equally if not more amenable to him that would not cause such scandal, and yet they give him a way out of London without any charges to his person, quite likely because it was the best Hennessy could manage to salvage under the circumstances. And yet still, Hennesy's words:

I would like to defend you. I would like to remind myself that every man has his flaws, his weaknesses that torment him. I would like to help you recover from yours. But not this. It is too profane; it is too loathsome to be dismissed. This is your end.

I keep thinking about what James tells Miranda in s1 re the pardon to go to Boston: "They took everything from us, and then they called me a monster." But who called him a monster? Given how quickly he and Miranda have to leave London after that confrontation in Hennessy's office, not to mention the way the actual affair with Thomas is swept under the rug, I highly doubt he had any more conversations about it except what transpired in Hennesy's office.

It is so much more devastating I think when someone says I love you but what you are is too vile, too profane for me to ever accept. Says I love you but I cannot accept you, and perhaps that is why what James hears Hennesy tell him is that he is a monster.

[nxtaliaistyping]

Thinking about Morpheus making you ride him as punishment :(

Author’s note: oh my god the season 2 behind the scenes look has me screaming, I’m so excited. I need him back in my life.

18+ nsfw, fem reader, slight bondage

Morpheus is nothing if not an attentive lover, always putting your pleasure first. While you’re in his realm, you don’t have to lift a finger, don’t have to want for anything. He provides.

And while he spends long stretches ravaging you, of taking you apart piece by piece via his long fingers stroking your clit until you squirm and cry for him, or fingering you while your gush around his lithe digits, there’s occasionally times where he finds you…challenging.

That mouth of yours has a tendency to run rampant, undermining his authority. He is a king, a god…more than a god; an endless. And to think a bratty little mortal like you has the audacity to be in his domain, his kingdom, and demand more of his time and energy? Well, you simply need a correction. A simple reminder of your place.

So that’s why you find yourself straddling him, thighs burning as you move up and down. He looks every bit the king of dreams as he sits on his impressive throne, how high you both are allowing you to survey the room while you ride your lover to the best of your capabilities. An unseen force is keeping your hands pinned to the small of your back, not even giving you the slight relief of bracing your weight on his thighs or shoulders.

No, instead you simply have to rut against him, feeling every bit like a concubine, pleasing your ruler.

“Are you getting tired my love? That cannot be the case I’m sure, since you were so eager to have me earlier. Quite…insistent, were you not?”

You whine pitifully at his words, the ache of your limbs at the repetitive motions setting in. Morpheus doesn’t have quite the same need to cum that you do, after all you both are in the dreaming, as much a part of him as he is of it. He can withhold his orgasm for as long as needed, which seems to be long enough that you’re soaking his lap with your needy juices.

“Making a mess I see, so wanton.” He chastises, but still makes no effort to help you move.

“Please…”

“Hm?” He tilts his head, a neutral expression plastered on his regal features. “Is there something you need, dearest?”

God you just want to scream, but your outburst would most likely not help your situation, so you give him a particularly strong slam of your hips before batting your eyelashes. “Please just fuck me.”

Instead of your desired response, he simply tuts. “You misunderstand the situation. This is…correctional. Your penance if you will. After all, you were the one being especially mouthy while in my realm. So it’s only right you prove to me you’re worth the attentions of a king.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how reminding you of his status above you makes you whine and clench your pussy around him. Your body is an instrument he is especially well versed in playing.

“Perhaps I have been too accommodating to your every whim and desire. I have created a spoilt thing it seems, so used to not putting in the work to achieve what she wants. This lesson is needed.”

Knowing no other way, you fight against your bodies’ exhaustion to ride him with vigour, rolling your hips. Pleasant hums occasionally pass his lips, the minuscule praise like a drug as you move faster on his lap.

You must get too carried away, as he gives your hip a light slap. “Now now, do not allow yourself to get carried away. Remember, it’s rhythm that is important in sexual situations such as this. Not just how fast you can move your hips on me.”

At his reprimanding, you nod your understanding and mutter a soft apology, building a rhythm that works. The sheer fact you’re riding him on his throne, in his throne room, really settles in. Anyone could walk in, heaven forbid Matthew flies in and gets the shock of his (after)life.

But you can’t deny how much it turns you on, to be dream of the endless’s favourite mortal, his favourite little pet to entertain him. It’s almost power in a strange sort of way, but it thrills you nonetheless.

Eventually, your lover’s hips start to move up in time with your thrusts, causing the breath to leave your lungs quickly. Your hands are released, and you quickly move them to his shoulders, feeling the material of his black cloak under your fingertips.

“Touch yourself. Feel the pleasure that I allow you to take.”

You don’t need to be told twice, fingers hurriedly rubbing circles on your clit as he fucks up into you with tenacity. “Please…can I cum?”

“You can do better.”

A moan rips its way from your lips before you can stop it. “Please…please my king, I need to cum. Please let me cum, I won’t talk back again, I’ll be so good…please.”

A trace of a smirk tugs on his lips, and he gives a simple nod of his head. Blue eyes trace over your trembling form as you finish all over his lap. A few thrusts later, he’s buried to the hilt inside of your weeping cunt, filling you up. He allows you to slump against him, gentle fingers moving up and down your spine to soothe you, his release warm inside of your spent pussy.

“Was that to your enjoyment?” He mumbles lowly into your ear, and you can’t help the girlish giggle you make as you nod against him. His smirk is now transformed into a soft smile, not allowing you to see this moment of vulnerability as he presses kisses to your hairline.

“Do not make such demands of me again, unless you want your next punishment to not involve climax for you at all.”

[august-undergrounds]

bengal spice x vanilla earl grey. so delicious. especially with added sweetener.

this is so so good thank u :333

[iamthekingofsass]

Molly's Outfit by Cuyima

[eddysocs]

A beautiful gift made for me by @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard!

[noneuclideanwhimsy]

I wrote a thing because. Yeah

Evil G-man woke to the scariest thing he could imagine. A huge being made of stars and millions of eyes, each of them burning with a deep and terrifying rage loomed over him. The being was flanked by what looked almost like whales but with the teeth of sharks that were all a dusky brown and seemed to almost dim the void they were in. The whale like creatures he was familiar with. They were called Duskers, and they were hunters. The Bigger Fish always warned him that if he messed up too badly they would some for him, rip him to shreds like tissue paper. It seemed all too believable now. As for the being guiding them…it would strike fear into the hearts of anyone. Evil G-man instinctively tried to hide in the remains of their creators, but the rest of them was almost gone, consumed by each other.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please don't hurt me! Whatever I did I didn't mean!'

At his plea the fire in the being's eyes faded just slightly. It made a gesture to the Duskers to stay where they were. The being then began to compress, its body going to a state that Evil G-man knew well.

"G'! I thought…well, you had the Duskers with you and I thought you were going to kill me."

G' stepped forward shaking its head, and put a hand on Evil G-man's shoulder.

"No, not at all! We finally tracked down The Bigger Fish, we were here to attempt a reset. Speaking of, where are they?"

E.G. pointed to the shriveled white mass on what constituted the floor of the void. G' nodded gravely, and turned to the Duskers to explain to them the situation.

"Mister E.G., your opinion. Do you think that a reset is possible here?"

E.G. shook his head.

"They ate each other. There's no coming back from that."

G' relayed the information, then returned to E.G.'s side. It seemed every concerned.

"Are you alright? Are you injured?"

"No."

G's hand returned to E.G.'s shoulder.

"I want you to know you did something amazing here. There's no telling how many worlds they would have harvested from."

E.G. didn't reply for a long time.

"I used Mitchell and Nick to boost my power to defeat The Bigger Fish. They would have done the same."

G's gaze softened. It knew what was going through E.G.'s head.

"You aren't like them. Not at all.'

E.G. balled his fists.

"Am I like you then? Am I like Ga-men? Who am I like?"

"You are like yourself."

This seemed to upset E.G. even more.

"But who am I?"

G' took its time in responding, and before it spoke it ensured E.G. was looking into its eyes.

"You are something I could never hope of being. You walk your own path and have made the best of every twist and turn. You are someone I am proud to know, and am proud to have been able to see change."

The word "proud" sent something off in E.G., and his eyes began to water.

"Really? You…mean all that?"

G' just nodded, a smile forming on its lips. E.G. hugged him close, the tears freely streaming down his face now. G' let him cry, saying nothing and just rubbing his back.

"There we go…now, let's get you and your companions home, hmm?"

It offered E.G. a handkerchief which he gratefully accepted, and they both walked off together.

GSGSGSGSGSSGFSDTGDDRSFYHCDFFUVJFHGD YES YES I LOVE THIS HOLY SPARKLES

[mekakitsune]

this little guy right here doesnt even know they have my entire heart ☹️

[tatakaeeren]

I can't get these two scenes out of my head. His eyes and lips say everything without saying a word.

[rosiethedragongeek]

I LITERALLY LOVE THIS PICTURE SO MUCH YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND LIKE,, I'M CRYING

THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS AND THEY HAVE BEEN SINCE THEY WERE KIDS AND THEY'RE NOT KIDS ANYMORE AND THEY'VE KNOWN EACH OTHER THEIR WHOLE LIVES AND THE LIVE TOGETHER AND THEY SPEND NIGHTS AROUND CAMPFIRES TELLING STORIES AND THEY MAKE EACH OTHER DINNER AND EAT IT AROUND A TABLE TOGETHER AND THEY KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL AND I'M LITERALLY CRYING

[moved-to-cinnamon-phrog]

YT Series Yellow Guy: *Idiotic ray of sunshine*

TV Series Yellow Guy: *A character who is seemingly split into two different people/personalities whom one only comes out when his batteries are replaced because he's a biomechanical being modeled after a woman's dead/absent son in order to cope with his loss and thus keeps him in an endless cycle of confusion and disturbing situations and he will not hesitate to smash his friends' face in with a shard of glass and threaten to kill said friend*

[silverlombaxwitch]

Happy birthday watching and dreaming!!! Here's titan Luz to celebrate >:3

redraw of this

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[snaggletoothedbastard]

he <3

[leftski]

three cheers for the hrothgar big sit