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at least i'm hot <33

#Traits

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#Figure

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#Bio

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I watched Green Planet for the first time (very cool, it's all about plants :3) and was introduced to a lot of highly specific and sometimes terrifying methods in which various plant species grow/feed/etc. and now I wanna make another alien/maybe parasitic creature oc but make it plant based

#ooc #Me watching how the giant water lily makes space for itself in waterways: wow that's vicious. I should make an OC about it. #my brain wants a lil evolutionary horror...as a treat #Probably VERY similar to my boy Victor but?? Fuck it we ball

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Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse by Spencer Wan

#The Spot

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DERRY GIRLS S1E06

#Traits #This is just Didi if u actually reject her

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me trying to figure out how The Spot eats: it's all very scientific and um hole-related

me also trying to figure out where his pp went: It's All Very Scientific And Um Hole-Related

#ooc #spottings #me in the back: look at how they massacred my boy............he can't eat hot pickle

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Honestly, she should be more grateful she doesn't have to deal with the mundane aspects of everyday life. She leads such a charmed life, having so few responsibilities and that certainly includes a lack of business meetings. Unless she ever has the misfortune of having one with André when she inevitably started trouble— she would argue it was never her fault though. If people just treated her nicely and did exactly as she said, there wouldn't be any trouble.

But causing mischief is far from her mind now— she's currently being led into an expensive car and the second her rear hits the seat, she happily sinks down into the seats and stretches her legs out (so roomy!); none of this surprises her, actually. She feels she deserves this sort of treatment and hopes he whips out a mini bar next.

"It seems reasonable enough— he was supposed to be one of the more beautiful ones, hm?" It never hurts to flatter your host. "That's why so many followed him out of Heaven." Or that's what she remembered her mother telling her when she was small. Didi always thought that the Devil being so stunning was rather ironic. Past lovers had called her something similar; devil woman. Although, she's not sure if it was for tempting them or because they had seen her angry.

Thankfully, he gives her something else to think about; he deals in debts and that's potentially dirty business. It's none of her business, but she does make a mental note not to borrow from him.

There are, of course, other ways to get money out of someone. And Didi has always been pretty good at separating people from their money. People liked to see her in clothes or jewelry they bought or splayed out on a bed they were paying for. So long as she got what she wanted, it was fine by her.

"Oh, I love hearing other people sing. I'm not terrible, but I'm not meant for a stage—" There's a sudden, short interruption and she can't help the small smirk that forms on her lips. He's very assertive, isn't he? Or perhaps just blunt? Didi's not positive but she's sure she'll find out eventually. Especially if saving her from boredom became a weekly occurrence.

"You must be very busy, hm. Very important, what with all these...dealings you've got." She is horrendously curious about what sort of deals he got into, but it's probably best not to pry so early. People tended to be touchy about their private affairs and she'd like to not get kicked out of a moving vehicle. "Which does make me wonder; do you have this time slot open for rescuing damsels in distress," No one who knew her would refer to her as a damsel. And certainly never in distress. "Or am I just incredibly lucky?"

He's (thankfully) caught her in a rather docile mood, his words easily rolling off her shrugging shoulders. "I don't, do I?" She replies with a half smile and tilt of her head. "But like I said— I hate, hate, hate being bored. I've got to find my fun somewhere. Even if that means infiltrating this little gathering." And apparently, a lot of her fun seemed to stem from bothering others or causing problems that other people had to fix once she left.

Nose wrinkles at yet another good point; they probably could have it removed rather quickly, no? Ah, well she isn't one to think about consequences or what happened after she caused trouble. That's just too far into the future to worry about.

Besides, everything she ever did in life was part chance and part her just chasing after her own ambitions— She didn't even know what city she'd be living in next week if she was being honest. But such a reckless life often led to her getting exactly what she wanted. For example, how would she have known she'd meet someone like him who could get her a better room in a better hotel? Fate and self-determined destiny strike again. "I promise I won't, hm. I'll be on my best behavior." She'll try, at least.

The business card he handed over is twisted over in her hand— the paper's nice. Letters slightly embossed— André Dacor Benicieux. Proprietor. It's stuffed into her bra for safekeeping before she links her arm with his.

"Cabaret de L'Enfer," Didi repeats, nodding slowly as an obvious question forms in her mind. "...I'm sure you get this all the time but does that mean you're the Devil?" If he was, he dressed nicely at least and was, so far, well-mannered. Just the sort of devil she always managed to get involved with...usually with disastrous results but again, she's not thinking much about tomorrow.

"But tell me all about this cabaret." Didi presses as they make their exit, wondering only for a moment about the poor saps in the other room before becoming bored with that thought. Best to keep moving forward.

#ch: didi #ofwealthandtaste

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i know i've mentioned this before but when Leslie gets drunk he gets a little musical. AKA he'll whip out his shitty keyboard and play you a little ditty called "Everybody Is Getting Fucked But Mostly By The Government" or "I Never Got Over What Happened In High School So Now Self-Deprecating Jokes Are My Coping Mechanism" and who could forget everyone's favorite "Cops Are Not Your Friend Especially Officer Pearson, That Dim Motherfucker"

#habits #love this lil guy #he truly is a just lil guy

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Gemma Arterton, photographed by Rankin for Hunger #4, Spring/Summer 2013

#Figure

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"Buck, honey, I want to try something." Jean looks him over for a moment before hefting the man up like a sack of potatoes walking a few steps then putting him back down. "Huh... you're lighter than I imagined."

😤 CEASE AND DESIST | Always Accepting Random Asks!

"Y'wanna try something?" That sentence meant nothing to him. She could mean trying her hand at brain surgery for all he knew, so he just looks at her with a single brow raised, waiting for the punchline.

Jean steps forward and Buck, unsure what she's attempting just leans away from her— wary as he was, he still smiles, beams really, flashing her that salesman smile in an instinctual panic response to...whatever this was.

It turns out she just wanted to take what remained of his dignity.

He didn't have much left to begin with but he could still feel it leave him when she picks him up. Buck was a bit fo a wirey fellow but this was ridiculous. "Putmedownputmedownputmedown—"

Buck's back on solid ground and staring at her, completely scandalized. "What made y'think to do that? I am a man not a lap dog."

#asmodcus #ch: buck #buck's hair sticking up every which way: This Is Not Dignified!

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SCRUBS 8.06 — My Cookie Pants

#Traits #Visions

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His jaw would ache later, he can already feel it— it would be worth it, he thinks, to rub at tense jaw and remind himself all over again how he'd taken Zachary. It's given him a small sense of pride honestly.

And other things as well. Between his legs had been aching for a while now, Jasper having grown quite hard from watching and now becoming desperately needy the more he sucked on Zachary's cock. It's a terrible feeling, really, being so uncomfortable in his slacks, knowing full well he could just relieve himself— but he feels he's unable, only because he was too busy holding onto Zachary, one hand gripping his thigh to keep himself steady while the other worked at his base where his mouth had yet to reach. In fact, he isn't sure if he could reach.

Perhaps, another time, he would be able to. For now, he believes they're both content with where he's at, and Jasper busies himself with fondling Zachary and feeling how his balls tense in his hand— "Hm?" Comes the humming question, only to be rewarded a moment later.

He can feel Zachary run his hands through his hair and them cum in his mouth. Brows furrow and Jasper does his best to take it; people often told him he had a big mouth, so he felt he should be able to handle this (he does well, but he can feel the threat of choking pressed against his throat)

He bobs his head a few more times until Zachary seems to be finished, pulling away with a slight groan and cum dribbling down his chin. I must look a mess, he thinks and chuckles breathlessly. "I'd say you're welcome but I'm going to feel this later, hm." Jasper lightly teases as he rubs his chin.

If Jasper felt inadequate about his current level of skill, he quickly got over it. The tentative licks, just testing the waters of what Zachary would enjoy, elicited a lovely sound from his partner, enough to spur him on and boost his confidence a little—

He might have been in his head a bit too much honestly, thinking far too long on how Zachary pleased himself that he wasn't thinking on how to please Zachary. Jasper's experienced head before, a quickly fleeting girlfriend using her mouth so deliciously that his head had been swimming for hours afterward— he supposed, the logical thing to do (and yes, he will run to the safety of logic in these intimate moments) was try and mimic what he'd want done to him.

His hand now slinks down, thumb rolling along the underside of Zachary's cock as his lips travel further down. Every inch he gains he licks, eyes darting up to gauge just where Zachary liked to feel his tongue. Lapping along the bottom or swirling against the tip— oh, he seemed to like it when Jasper's cheeks hollowed out to suck his length.

It surprises even Jasper when he gets nearly to the end, only stopping when he feels Zachary almost at the back of his throat. He blinks, head bobbing back than forth in a cautious manner— Zachary did feel so big in his mouth, enough so to earn a satisfactory hum from Jasper.

#id1eyouth #ch: jasper #nsfw #Verse: College!AU

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SAM ROCKWELL as ERIC KNOX CHARLIE’S ANGELS (2000) dir. McG

#Gaze

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Philo would like to say he doesn't take life in general as a great big joke, but when you've lived the sort of life he has and then, on top of it, do the things he's done, you've just got to make things funny or you really go insane.

But back to the job.

"Jennifer's parents gave this to me." They didn't care about vengeance or retribution, just that their little girl was home. The good thing about that was the fact that they wouldn't ask what he did to bring her home. "They just want their babygirl back home."

The gun is lowered and a bullet is embedded into Cain's thigh. The silencer made it sound like a soft metal clink, like you just dropped a loose screw and not like you just shot someone in the thigh.

The Batman voice is dropped and now Cain has to deal with a gunshot wound and some armed man who sounds like someone from your friendly neighborhood Geek Squad. "Oh, you have no idea? So you're telling me you're no help? You're telling the guy with the gun and the mask that you're useless to him? How many bad decisions do you make in a day? 'Cause this one is about to be your worst one if you don't tell me where she is right now."

He's doing his best Batman impression— Christian Bale era, specifically. It adds something to the whole masked mercenary bit. Although it's not a bit, he is actually a masked mercenary.

That being said; "Can't do that Cain." Because someone was not pleased with their little...cult thing. Honestly, Philo is a little excited because he's never had a cult job before.

Granted, he was not supposed to hurt anyone, just retrieve someone who's been brought into the fold (translation: brainwashed). Philo reaches into his vest pocket, silencer still trained between Cain's eyes. A photograph was plucked out, the edges worn from a distressed parent's fretting. "Where is she?"

#vitalphenomena #ch: philo

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#Lochlan core #badge

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Honestly, Gideon had never believed in the supernatural before all this. He's never seen a ghost. Never seen anything otherworldly howling in the fields at night. Never seen a glimmer of an inhuman feature in a passerby.

It wasn't disproved by science, but he knows what he's seen. And in most cases, if he couldn't see it, he didn't put much stock in it.

He sees it now. In the mirror in the morning, that green glint in his eyes that is not his own, new bruises and scrapes littering his form that he knows he didn't get while he was awake. It was barely a life anymore, but he couldn't escape it. Gyles wouldn't let him.

Ollie's voice sounds far away— the human body is very complex but not as quick to recover as people might think. Aches still linger from the change and even the few words he's managed to sputter out sting and burn down his throat. He'll feel raw for a few minutes, parts of him feeling like a fresh wound.

As selfish as he feels it is, he feels...relief when Ollie returns to him. He wished he was stronger and could push people away permanently...but it's hard. All he has is Gyles now and Gyles wasn't even pleasant. It's as if all his insecurities rolled up into one hulking mass, hellbent on tormenting him.

"...Thank you." It's croaked out and Gideon lets his eyes close. Even keeping them open hurts. He focuses on breathing and not the sharp sting in his ribs. "I'm...I'm alright." He's not in a mental sense...nor a physical one, but he's as good as he could ever be.

He grunts as she attempts to get him on his feet. Gideon wasn't a small person and he tries to be mindful of that, wiling himself up on his own two feet and trying not to lean so much on poor Ollie. Gideon falters only once, knees momentarily weak when they ask who Gyles is; he shouldn't tell her.

But they would know regardless. They've seen him and Gyles isn't someone you easily forget. "...Get me home. Please. I'll...I'll tell you but not...not out here."

To be inside...it's frightening. Because Gideon could see what was happening, what Gyles used his mouth to say, what Gyles used his hands to do— and Gyles could be terrifying.

And there was no easy way to overtake one another, it was all strength or another's moment of weakness. And while Gideon could be mentally strong at times, trying to fight off Gyles' will felt like trying to tussle with a Grizzly.

Ollie says his name and he wishes they could hear him cry out for them. Like maybe if he screamed loud enough they'd understand that it's not his choice. That none of this was ever his choice! That he was dealt a bad hand and now look where the consequences have led him—!

"Blimey, that's loud," Gyles grumbles, clutching his forehead as Gideon screams. "Oh, I've known Giddy— Fuckin' hell, mate, you're givin' me an ache—" The beast grumbles, the heel of his hand pressing hard into his eye like massaging away Gideon's frantic pleas would somehow work.

"I've known Giddy for a year now. I saved 'is life, y'know? Yeah, he'd be six feet under if I didn't save his sorry arse—" There's a yelp from Gyles, his body lurching forward like he was about to heave.

Maybe it was that last bit that did it.

The switch was never easy and certainly never comfortable. From Gideon to Gyles it was all skin stretching and bones pushing out into muscle in a painful way. The reverse was no better, all those bones popping back into their original places, skin being pulled tight across the sinew so hard it felt like he was on fire.

All he knew was that suddenly waking up on cold cobblestones, gasping for air in lungs that felt like they had only recently been formed, his joints stiff and achy as he stiffly reached out for Ollie.

In the end, he's no longer a threat. Not some big, hulking man eying them up for their next meal. No, it's just Gideon. Looking up at them with the wide, terrified eyes of a cornered animal. For a moment it's silent, him noting the distance they've put between them.

It's for the best, he thinks, I'm not safe. "I—I'm sorry."

#parvumchao #ch: gideon