#y'know just as a treat

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(*Breaks into your inbox* WELL. I guess I'm starting on drawing some comic fragments for my arcs! I won't send you every single fragment I'll draw, but I felt like dropping angst on you today. >: ) )

(NOO MY BABY BOY, MY SWEET CHEESE, MY SILLY RABBIT, HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO BE SAD /lh

I am so excited to see where this goes! There's already so much emotion and details here!)

[uncanny-tranny]

The whole "breasts shouldn't be politicized because the primary purpose of breasts is to feed babies!" can be a fine jumping-off point, but I really wish people thought deeper than that when we talk about the ways in which bodies are politicized and restricted.

Like, why's it that when we talk about breasts, they must have some Higher Purpose? It's true that breasts aren't inherently sexual, but they aren't valuable solely because they can potentially feed a baby. A human body doesn't have to serve a Higher Purpose in order for it to not be legislated against or policed, and I just wish people would remember it isn't always about babies, about other people, about anything else other than the people who have that body.

[lets-go-banana-fishing]

My favorite kind of ship is the acts of service hoe finding a guy that got never taken care of and deciding to STEP UP

[ghouljams]

PLEASE CAN WE HAVE MORE KÖNIG WITH HIS LIL DEMON

I will always write more of König and Fetch.

König jolts in his chair, knees hitting the underside of his desk as your hands slide over his thighs. He looks down at you in a panic, your eyes glowing in the relative shadow of his desk, then across the wood at the Lieutenant standing at attention. The soldier's nerves and concern radiate off of him, eyes fixed to König as he tries to put his composure back together. KorTac runs a tight ship, König runs a tight ship, he can't have his men thinking he's got... women under his desk. Or one woman in particular. A very determined one who rubs her cheek against his knee and attempts to push closer.

"Dismissed Lieutenant." König tells the man.

"But Colonel, I haven't finished my-"

"Dismissed." König says more forcefully, the man straightens past perfect and nods before artfully scrambling out of the office. König sags back against his chair, drags a hand down his covered face. You are going to be the death of him.

"Fetch," he groans, exasperation coloring his tone, "What are you doing Schöne?"

"You seem tense." You nuzzle closer against his thigh, pulling yourself further from the shadows. König rests his elbow on the arm of his desk chair, his cheek against his knuckles as he stares you down. 

"I have been out of the field for," he takes a deep breath, rubs his eyes, "too long now." You hum, and fingers dragging up his thighs to his belt. "You will excuse me if I am-"

"Tense."

"Not entertaining you." König corrects. You pout, your fingers stilling. You don't need entertaining, that's just rude. You've been perfectly content sitting in König's shadow while he did all his silly busy work. You listened to all the stupid whining from the other KorTac operators, and watched your commanding officer give orders with an ever growing hunger. 

To say you were obsessed with the brutal efficiency with which König operated was an understatement. If you'd thought it was only his kills which had bought him a demonic companion you were witnessing first hand how incorrect an assumption that was. You've never seen a man command such degrees of respect and fear.

"Then let me entertain myself." König hums, eyes flicking to the door. You're getting better at reading him, but you can't tell if that's anxiety or amusement in his eyes.

"Lock the door, Fetch." He says after a moment. You hardly waste the time it would take to get up, flicking your wrist in the general direction of the office door to hear the metal click of the lock turn. The rest of your focus is on opening König's belt. He slides forward, closer to the edge of the chair, legs spreading wider on either side of you. You're not one to pass up an open invitation.

You pull his cock free of his pants and whine at the sight of it. Even soft he's a beast of a man. At some point you have to find whoever matched you to him and thank them. Truly they are doing the devil's work. 

You push up onto your knees and press your lips against the length of his cock, tongue darting out to taste his skin with a pleased hum. König wraps a hand around one of your horns, a firm reminder of his authority. Not that you need it. Oh no you are always well aware of his status as your superior officer and summoner. That's half the fun of being summoned in the first place, knowing you're at his command, or at his feet in this particular instance. 

"I told you Schöne, I can't entertain you." He reminds you, setting the paper down to sign before picking up another. You pull off with a frown, that gets his attention. König pushes at your horn, tipping your head back to look at him with a smile in his eyes. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” He clarifies, “I meant do whatever you want.”

Your drooling is working well for you so far, slicking König's quickly hardening cock enough to stroke it. His thick length is already too much to get your fingers all the way around. You're better with your mouth anyway, always mindful of your teeth when you close your lips around the head of his cock to suck. Tongue circling while your hand twists and pumps his length. You just remember to glance at König, too focused on your work. He's reading over a report, eyes scanning the paper as you bob your head down his cock. You whine, desperate for a shred of his attention.

Your eyes go wide. Whatever you want? He nods, and pulls your horn to press your face against his cock. As previously mentioned, you’re not one to pass up an open invitation. Quick to start pumping his cock with your fingers again as you duck your head to lick his balls. Dragging your tongue along the thin sensitive skin, feeling the texture of his coarse hair. Whatever you want? Oh you are going to worship him. Whatever you want means König cumming is not the end goal. Besides, he has to work.

You’re not meant to be let off leash. He’s supposed to give you orders, not hand you the reins. You trace every line and vein of his cock with your tongue, press languid kisses along the length of him, absolutely lose yourself in the taste and feel of him. Sweat, salt, military issue soap and the bitterness of pre-cum coat your tongue and fill your nose. König keeps you well fed but you haven’t seen battle in weeks. Now the lazy waves of lust that roll through him with the roll of your tongue feel like the best meal you’ve had in years.

You squeeze your fingers around the base of his cock as you wrap your lips around the head, easing your way down with fluttering lashes. You swallow, tongue rubbing against the underside of his cock until you reach your fingers. Then your hand drops to your lap and you still with your nose against his pubic bone, enjoying the feeling of being full. The heavy cock on your tongue, the ache in your jaw, the pressure of him stretching out your throat… You purr around him, earning a very pleased hum from König above you.

His hand leaves your horn to pet your hair as you cockwarm him. Your thoughts are fuzzy, your skin warm, all of you lulled by an affectionate hand, the scent of him, and a cock down your throat. Your fingers slip between your legs, lazy and indulgent, rubbing the slick from your cunt along your slit to circle your clit. When König is done with his work he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you for being so needy, you want to be ready.

[gophergal]

Fem Red Oktoberfest doodle. I just loved the idea of them dressed up all formally

[96percentdone]

some of you guys talk about Damian like he's an adult man who just happens to be really small and not like. A six-year-old. every week there's like at least three new posts in the sxf tag talking about damianya and why its bad and its always because of damian's behavior like it isn't just like. standard faire six-year-old behavior. why are we upset that the six year old who experiences child neglect and grew up wealthy acts like a brat sometimes. he is a brat; he's fucking six.

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

[simplepotatofarmer]

i think what hurts the most about this racism towards natives is like. it's been there for three days, had to be approved, and no one has said anything.

and i get it because if you're like me and can't sit down to watch streams completely and are just catching snippets while doing other work, it was absolutely possible to miss it.

but there's so many people both behind the scenes and people who are fully watching the streams that it should have been caught. something should've been done before this point.

except it feels like racism against natives and indigenous people is treated less seriously by far. that's just not okay.

[cupcakesmoothie]

Me reading the newest Spy x Family chapter: "Oh shit, lore?"

Melinda's mind gets read:

"OH SHIT, LORE???"

[kassycreations]

My ideal Disaster Cousins dynamic is one where Lloyd is (rightfully, honestly) an asshole and an annoyance to Morro and Harumi. Like he will go out of his way to inconvenience the both of them in any way he possibly can as a small payback for what they did. It isn't on the same level as taking over someone's body and having them fight their family or reviving their father as an evil husk but it gets the point across

[mad-hunts]

[uncanny-tranny]

So often, twink death is framed as a bad thing. However, the "twink death" for trans men* is frankly one of the most healing things you will bear witness to (pun intended).

[eyrieofsynapses]

Been thinking about The Two Live Crew Job again, specifically about Sophie and Eliot with the bomb, and... y'know, it's interesting to me, how Sophie looks to Eliot while they're trying to figure out what to do with the bomb. He's not the expert in the room, not really—that’s Parker and Hardison, truth be told, though Eliot’s got more field experience with explosives, and we see that in how they're the ones providing feedback. Heck, Parker's the one that comes up with the solution with the instant pudding. Nate takes the natural leader position, and he and Sophie are... Nate and Sophie. But it's Eliot that we see Sophie consistently coming back to, who she locks eyes with.

That could be for plenty of reasons. He does seem to have the steadiest control of the situation, likely because he's the best at dealing with high-stakes life-threatening issues (the hitter with extensive military experience is, of course, going to be better under that kind of pressure than the ones who are technically civilians). But I think maybe there's another layer there: he's the one she can trust to be blunt.

See, Eliot's not going to try to soften this. He's a tactful person as a general rule, but he also knows when to be honest. Sophie doesn't want this to be softened. I suspect that's because it introduces a layer of instability; if she only hears optimistic viewpoints, there's an uncertainty in what could go wrong, a fear about what might really happen. But Parker and Hardison and Nate don't necessarily get that—in fact, they themselves won't want to stare down the flat truth, and they may take the optimistic standpoint simply to keep themselves comfortable, even without realizing it.

Conversely, Eliot's not (and never has been) the type to try to look only on the bright side. You don't get to do that in his line of work. He knows how to look at all possible outcomes and take the scene in as-is, and he understands that some people don't want platitudes. Sophie's one of them. She knows, then, that she can trust him to tell her exactly what's happening and what the stakes are, no sugar-coating, no shaky voice, just steady truth.

And she knows, too, that he knows when something is a lost cause—and he understands when to cut his losses. Eliot can be impartial in the moment, no matter how much he beats himself up about it later, and he can weigh the odds and decide, coldly, when to abandon her.

The others can't do that. Parker, even here, even now, two years before The Long Way Down Job, could never choose survival over Sophie in that way. Hardison and Nate? They'd stay, no matter how bad the odds, no matter if it was sure that they wouldn't make it. But Eliot can. More importantly, he's the one who can drag the other three out of there.

He's the one Sophie can depend on to keep them alive. Even if it means she dies alone, even if it means she loses that slim, tiny chance she could live—he'll get them out, and they'll live. She won't let them stay behind, and she even shouts that at them, yells at them to get out, and she knows even as she does so that Nate and Parker and Hardison might not listen. But Eliot will. No matter what, Eliot will, and he'll listen to her and follow her orders.

It's Eliot that she watches, and it's him that she keeps steady with, because he'll be honest with her, and he'll be honest with them, and he'll keep them safe, the same way she "[makes] sure we’re all okay," as Hardison so poignantly puts it.

And do you know what else? In spite of all of it, though, in spite of being the one to be blunt, he still manages to be gentle. He's reassuring, holds her gaze and speaks soft and even and gentle, calming, steady, sure. He's the one who hates explosives, who knows exactly how bad this could be, and he stays steady for her.

This is their second year working together. It's mere months after she apologized for lying to them, point-blank, in The Second David Job. Yet there's still this trust, this holding anchored balance, that they'll keep the crew safe together.

But here's the other thing. It's not just that they trust one another with the rest of the crew. It's that Sophie trusts him to keep her safe, and Eliot trusts her to keep him safe, even if "safe" doesn't mean physically. Because sometimes "safe" isn't about that. Sometimes it's safety in reassurance, even when everything is going to go horribly wrong. Sometimes it's safety in keeping secrets, or listening to each other without judgement.

And sometimes, it's about safety in knowing the truth, no matter how vulnerable and terrible it may be.

[side-b-bumblebi]

Men who view women as their intellectual equals 😍

[maxphilippa]

No, dude, Silvercandle isn't toxic. They were both playing by the game. Silver also regretted the stuff he did. They're on good terms now. They talked about stuff. If anything they were just complicated at times but that doesn't mean they were toxic.

[raayllum]

the dragang getting captured by pirates and rayla being put particularly at risk (maybe a snarky comment? maybe bc she’s an elf) and callum being angry and desperate and “i’ll do anything” and that’s what leads to him being on the boat in the storm <3