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#it’s making some of your icons giant
unpretty · 11 months
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Wait wait what did your boss do with the sweet potato??? I'm trying to imagine how you'd eat a raw sweet potato, they are so solid. You could shave bits off I guess??? Did they microwave it?
he slowly sawed it in half with a plastic butter knife, put one half back in the lunchbox (presumably for tomorrow) and then microwaved the other half
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bogleech · 3 months
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I keep seeing RUDE memes comparing the new Dune sandworms to buttholes or fleshlights and I will not be that mean to them but I will say they just look wrong without the "petals."
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It's just not as visually cool or iconic a design at all, and if they really wanted to change it up, they could've just drawn from a different kind of nematode! Because a lot of nematodes do have the three flappy jaws:
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But a lot of other nematodes just already look like someone tried too hard to make an alien worm monster look completely rad and awesome:
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All you other people with giant worms in your games or comics or other fiction should also take a minute to look at some good quality 'todes
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Konig X Reader who works at an underground bar as a waitress wearing one of those iconic playboy bunny suits
(I got with a bit of mafia!konig because I am a mad woman) You hate your job. It's only natural that you do. No one would ever like working in a place like this - barely legal, filled with suspicious customers, only one grade above actual sex work. The payment isn't even that good, but you needed someone who would hire without a lot of questions and tips sometimes are better than your whole normal day job makes in two weeks. Meeting with the Vienna crime scene isn't something you wished for when you moved but, then again, at least it's Vienna's crime scene. Nothing too bad. Could be worse. Much worse. You hate this stupid dress, but at least your regular is here. Yes, this place is the worst one to have a regular in, but you're managing to find the best things out of a bad situation. You just...you need a bit of something nice in the pure shit of your current life. Konig provides just that. Yes, he is pulling you on his lap every time you come to him with a drink. Yes, he is fidgeting with the side of your fishnets and rips them away with the speed of light. Anxiously grips your hips and forces you to grind on his dick as you readjust and fire his cigarette. The corner of your dumb-standing bunny ears are poking at his mask, and you both giggle. You know that he has a gun and that the giant thing poking at your clothed pussy isn't it. You don't really care because the guy would respectfully grab your tits a few times, call you beautiful in three languages at once and then leave you a tip that would be enough to cover half of your month expenses. You know that this bar is a shitty place, an illegal place. It's no wonder it grows its own little crime cell - the place ought to be shot up at some point. You just hoped that the dumb suit would provide you with more opportunities to escape...alas, this is kinda impossible. You don't even think about getting out of here alive before you feel someone yanking you by your neck. Pressing you into a big, muscular chest with a familiar smell of expensive cologne, gun oil, and blood. In all of your days serving Konig as your regular customer, you never thought that he would be down bad enough to actually buy your hand in...well, not exactly marriage, but getting you out of the bar. And you didn't know that he liked the fucking suit so much that he bought you three copies and made you wear them around the house. His house. You are not allowed to leave, or else his good will make you into a rabbit stew. Well. At least Konig is still calling you his kleine Haschen.
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jgracie · 18 days
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I WANT IT ALL
masterlist | rules
❝ hellooo !! i absolutely in love with your works !! may i request percy with the song “i want it” all by lana del rey, specially this part of the lyrics:“do you think you'll kill for me one day?" / “yes of course I will, my darling” ? perhaps a mention of dark percy ? 😋 ❞ — 🦇
in which percy would kill for you one day
pairing slightly dark!percy jackson x reader
warnings house of hades spoilers? that’s when this is set, violence (percy bloodbends)
on the radio . . . i want it all (lana del rey)
After experiencing Tartarus together, you couldn’t help but notice how Percy changed. He used to always be able to crack a joke, even at the worst of situations, lightening the mood and raising your spirits. However, now he’s more… serious. Tartarus seemed to harden him up - his eyes, once a bright aquamarine colour, were now of a dark blue-green hue, like the depths of the ocean that even Poseidon wouldn’t venture
You still loved him with all of your heart. He was your precious boyfriend, after all. And besides, you probably changed a lot too after that. Anyone would if they were forced to hallucinate their boyfriend abandoning them like you did. The image the Arai had planted in your head that day, a curse sent your way by a girl you didn’t even know, haunted you. You never wanted to feel that alone and isolated again
Percy knew this. It was part of the reason why he became more protective, more territorial. Watching you wander Tartarus aimlessly, your voice cracking as you begged for his touch and being able to do nothing about it shattered his heart. After that experience, he vowed to never let you out of his sight 
The other members of the Argo II could tell that something had changed between you, too. However, they kept a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in case they made it worse, unable to even fathom what you must’ve gone through in Tartarus
For the most part, though, your relationship was good. Other than the nightmares and protectiveness, the two of you stayed the same iconic couple you are, and as time progressed, Percy felt himself becoming more relaxed, no longer needing to be by your side every second of every day
That was until the ship got attacked. You’d been having a couple days of pretty safe travel ever since you got out of Tartarus, and while you did enjoy simply being able to catch up with all your friends on a boat in the ocean, you should’ve known that something would come along to ruin this for you
It was early in the morning, and you were on watch duty along with Leo, who was manning the ship whilst adding some updates to Festus. The salty air made you think of Percy, and you found yourself suddenly longing for his touch, knowing how much he’d enjoy watching the sun rise over the horizon
“You can go get Percy if you want, Y/N, I’ll be fine here,” Leo mumbled. For someone who claims he’s better at understanding machines than people, he sure was good at reading your mind. Recently, you noticed he’d also been acting differently. According to Hazel, he found a girl he loved (NOT calypso guys don’t worry 🩷) while he’d gone missing, but for some reason he couldn’t bring her with him
You thanked him and were about to make your way to your boyfriend’s room when you suddenly heard a voice yell, “I will take revenge on you, wretched son of Poseidon!” You turned, finding yourself face-to-face with none other than the bane of Poseidon, Polybotes
“You think you can just leave Tartarus as you please? I, Polybotes, will make you pay!” The giant continued. Your feet seemed to be cemented to the ground as you stared at the giant, mouth open in a mix of shock and fear. He was supposed to be in Tartarus, how could he possibly get here? Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace. Why were you stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, you could relax until actually having to fight Gaia herself? 
“Y/N, look out!” Leo yelled, pulling you out of your trance. But it was too late. The giant picked you up, his nails digging into your back, forming crescent shaped gashes. Your nose scrunched at the smell of him as he took a good look at you before laughing (his breath smelled even worse. You had to fight the urge to vomit all over him)
Tears welled up in your eyes. You were completely helpless, with no weapon on you and your limbs still aching from your time in Tartarus. This was it. This is how you’d die. The giant was squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe, black spots beginning to obscure your vision. You sent a quick prayer to your godly parent, asking them to keep your friends safe on the rest of this quest, before you succumbed to the darkness
The last thing you remember seeing is a flash of bright blue - the ocean
“Thank Gods you’re awake! We’re all so worried about you!” Hazel exclaimed as soon as your eyes were open. Looking around, you noticed you were in the makeshift infirmary section of the ship, bruises littering your body
You turned to face Hazel, your eyebrows furrowed, “what… happened?” You asked, trying to push your memories of the incident with Polybotes to the front of your mind, but ending up with nothing, “I remember I was captured by that giant, then I saw the water move, then… nothing.”
Hazel was suddenly incapable of holding eye contact with you, unsure if she should tell you what happened or not. In the end, she decided on the former, knowing you’d pull it out of Percy eventually if you had to
“The water moving was Percy’s doing. We all showed up after hearing the commotion and when he saw you in Polybotes’ clutches he went… kind of crazy. I’d never seen him like this before, Y/N, it was a little scary. He willed the water to move him up to Polybotes’ height and demanded he let you go. When he didn’t…” Hazel stopped for a second, shuddering. What did Percy do? After seeing the way he handled Akhlys in Tartarus, you knew there was a side of him that he kept buried deep inside. Did it come out again?
You placed a gentle hand on Hazel’s, giving her a kind smile which willed her to continue, “he started controlling Polybotes’ blood… he made him choke on his own blood, Y/N, we’ve been spending the past five hours cleaning that up.”
At the sound of voices coming out of the infirmary, Percy barged in, nodding at Hazel before holding you tightly in his arms. You hugged back, glad to see that he was okay. Smiling at both of you, Hazel waved goodbye and left, knowing you two needed a moment alone
“Hazel told me what happened,” you said once Percy pulled away, still keeping your hand in his. At this, he looked at the ground in shame, remembering how much his treatment of Akhlys had scared you in Tartarus
Rubbing circles into your hand, he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N, my fear and anger got the better of me. I don’t ever want to lose you, you’re literally my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. Feeling your face become warmer as a bright smile made its way onto your lips, you said, “it’s alright, Percy. Thank you for saving me. I genuinely thought I was going to die then.” At this, Percy’s brows furrowed and the grip he had on your hand tightened
An aura of power exuded from your boyfriend, and when he said, “you wouldn’t die, not with me here. I’d kill for you, baby, you understand that, right?” You knew he meant it. If giants didn’t have to be defeated by both Gods and demigods working together, Polybotes would definitely be a mere pile of dust in Tartarus right now
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usedpidemo · 7 months
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Voguish (Itzy Ryujin)
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(Thank you for the commission! I hope its to your liking.)
—————
If you had any other choice, you’d rather be stuck at where you were previously: earning a modest income, just enough to get by from job to job, performing straightforward work, and most importantly, friendly clientele to attend to. It wasn’t surprising; you knew this industry was built on the backs of some of the most snobbish, arrogant people you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, but—
“You’re late. Again.”
Shin Ryujin was probably among the absolute worst.
If you’re going to make an honest assessment, Ryujin isn’t that bad. Serving as her head stylist for the better part of a year, she’s by far the client you’ve spent the most time with. She doesn’t talk a big deal about the money she’s making or prattle into a conversation intricately designed to inflate her ego to the moon, unlike some of the other A-listers you’ve had the ‘privilege’ of working under. 
However, her attitude is definitely up there.
It’s not even a little over a minute. In fact, you’ve been standing at her entrance door two minutes before the clock hits ten. Doesn’t matter if you’re in the right; her style, her rules. She doesn’t care that you're sweating buckets rushing her newly minted outfit from across the street up to the 27th floor. Any moment where she doesn’t look like a million dollars is a moment wasted.
“My apologies, Ryu—”
Ryujin’s glare puts the fear of God into your soul. “What did I say about using my name?” 
You pause. Gulp your throat. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Shin.” 
“Hmph.” Grimacing with disgust, she hastily snatches the dress from your possession, proceeds to slam the door on you, tone bordering on shouting, “Come inside. You’re late.”
Entering the door shortly after, you’re welcomed by a film crew in the process of recording her as she struts around the living room suite holding your dress in her hands. If there’s anything you’ve learned from attending to her, she’s as effortless of an actress as she is as a model. The moment her eyes face the camera, she instantly transforms into the picture perfect icon that has all of social media buzzing.
Moving out of the way has become muscle memory at this point. When she’s in front of the cameras, you’re merely an onlooker. 
“So this is my outfit for tonight,” she says enthusiastically into the camera, proudly flaunting the outfit—a convincing facade to the untrained eye. For the press, she’s this likable, larger than life figure living her best life, attending all these invitation-only parties and wearing the most stylish dresses. 
“It was a risque design, and I wanted to try something bold for once. It was love at first sight when I saw it,” she comments, and you know very well this wasn’t her first choice. They won’t know that this was the 12th option, handpicked just last night after weeks of trial and error, only to be thrown away right after. At her request, you had it ordered on incredibly short notice, and the plan almost fell through. It was hard to deny Ryujin’s wants, no matter how impractical or unfeasible they were. 
In a way, this was to be expected. Ryujin emanates this young, it girl energy. Like any aspiring icon, she usually wants to stand out from a usually safe crowd. Not that it hasn’t stopped you from interfering a handful of times, much to her annoyance. After all, you’d assume she was going to a casual party or some red carpet event, not a prestigious gala with some of the biggest people in the world in attendance. You name it: politicians, CEOs of tech giants, industry titans who make the cover of Forbes and Time every other month. There are high standards that must be kept, and she’s doing anything but uphold those standards.
The camera pans away from her, and she immediately tosses the clothing aside with zero regard whatsoever. You manage to save it before it becomes near valueless. No matter how bothersome she acts, you can’t bring yourself to call her out on her antics; not just because there are several careers at stake, including yours, but you know what she’s capable of doing when her patience exceeds breaking point. It’s a firsthand experience to catch Ryujin in a state that isn’t picture perfect.
“Where are you?” Ryujin shouts from the other room, irate. “Slow as ever, my goodness.”
When you approach her, she’s on her phone, seated in front of the mirror with her legs crossed, having commanded the camera crew to vacate the room, leaving you alone with her. It’s only when you are together that she’s her true self, and it’s not far from what you usually experience even with other people around. They understand it’s in their best interest not to interfere.
Turning her eyes, she catches you idling with her sharp stare. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there and look at me all day? You already do that on the regular.”
Her behavior’s something neither cameras nor testimonies will ever publicly reveal: that Ryujin’s practically a spoiled brat behind closed doors. Any attempts to expose her have been silenced by huge settlements, NDAs, and every legal bind in the book. And when those don’t work out, there’s the strangely coincidental disappearance of potential witnesses that read like every tin-foil hat post written by some gullible conspiracy theorist on the internet. 
In retrospect, perhaps there’s some merit to the rumor that her father is supposedly the head of some mafia organization, but you digress. She has never brought her personal history up in interviews, other than she’s been adopted by the founder of a relatively unknown investment firm. An elaborate lie.
She’s engrossed on her phone, unable to keep herself still while you struggle to apply makeup on her face. Time’s of the essence, she usually says, but she’s purposeful with how much time is wasted, with the primary objective of finding an excuse to lay on you. It was never going to be fair from the start. All the moments where you were late, in her eyes, were intentionally done to put you in the wrong. 
To be fair, the numerous stylists who’ve taken care of her warned you in advance. You couldn’t deny the opportunity for a huge paycheck.
“Miss Shin, please stay still,” you say, carefully stringing your words together, delivered in the least offensive tone possible.
To your surprise, she complies. It’s a miracle. She never obliges with your requests, let alone direct commands.
Applying the rest of her makeup takes only minutes. Usually, you’d be going back and forth, and you’d be in front of the mirror for hours. See how easier everyone’s job is when all parties cooperate and collaborate effectively? You’re doing your part like it’s second nature; you only wish Ryujin was this accommodating more often, and not whether her brain flips a coin to determine her attitude for the day.
“You look amazing, Miss Shin,” you comment, staring at the mirror, her face radiating with the glow of a million bucks.
Taking her attention off the phone, even if it’s only for a second, proves to be a chore, as proven by her particularly grumpy expression. She scans herself, peers through every little detail in the mirror—showing more interest in herself during this brief moment than her dozens of photoshoots over the last month—and gives the smallest of nods. You even see the tiniest of grins escaping her lips, too.
Her steely attitude unwavering, she commands you, sternly, “Bring me the dress. Now.”
A clap of hands and the door opens like magic. Your co-stylist briskly walks toward you, outfit in hand, promptly handing it over before immediately leaving the room. No words are necessary; she makes it clear who’s allowed to touch her, let alone dress her, and it’s only you. Handling Ryujin was as meticulous and methodical as preserving a historical treasure.
She finally gets off her chair, hands prepared to loosen her robe before something catches her attention. “Door.”
It’s common sense. You hurry over to the opened door, slam it shut. Then the magic happens.
Ryujin nonchalantly slips her bathrobe off her shoulders, letting it freely fall to the floor. She’s draped in nothing but the thinnest of underwear, her asscheeks openly poking through the fabric. It’s amazing how she’s allowing you to see her like this, her barest, when most of her shoots and red carpet dresses have been nothing but conservative. Sometimes seductive, but mostly safe. There’s nothing left for your imagination. On the other hand, you’re so used to this vivid sight, it’s almost part of your daily routine. You shouldn’t be fazed, but her perfect figure has you staring, shamelessly, like it’s your very first time seeing nudity.
At times, it leaves you vulnerable. Like now.
“You were doing quite well too,” she comments, snarkily, gazing at your blank expression through the reflection, snapping you from your daze.
Gulping your throat, you find yourself embarrassed, ears flushed red. Even while you go through the methodical process of measuring and dressing her, the shame lingers. You find yourself unable to glance at the mirror. The very few flashes and glints that meet you when you turn you face your reflection, you find her suppressing a tiny giggle. 
As you put on the finishing touches on her outfit, she brings the point home, “We’re already late by an hour.”
A quick look at your watch tells you it’s almost eleven. Ten minutes before the next hour. At first glance, it’s still early, but it can be deceiving. Parisian traffic is notoriously unforgiving, event or no event, showing no partiality. Getting from one place to another is a whole day’s work.
Then you remember the fans and paparazzi congregated at the hotel’s entrance. This crowd that you had to brute force through just to get her dress on time. The hotel security can barely hold them back, and you can hear several sirens screaming miles away, most likely police presence. Many persons of interest will be gathered in one setting, after all.
“How do you feel, Miss Shin?” you ask, taking a step back to let her soak in her meticulously curated appearance. 
She blinks rapidly. Then she takes a deep breath.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
—————
Everywhere you look lies nothing but chaos. Chaos and cameras.
Barricade is filled with an indistinguishable mix of both paparazzi and media from all over the world. Lights, whether from above or from cameras, flash in every direction that it’s almost blinding. Deafening shouts pierce through your ears that whispering is impossible. You’ve been to as many red carpet events as these journalists and photographers, but you’ve never attended an event of this magnitude until now.
Left and right, there’s a random celebrity being interviewed by a news junket. The women you spot are dressed to the nines, adorned in colorful and graceful garb, while the men are decked as if they're attending Sunday service. You can see it now: another round of fashion bloggers berating and cursing the men for their simplicity and lack of creativity, but that’s to be expected. 
Your phone vibrates from within your shirt pocket. It’s Ryujin, having disappeared somewhere in the crowd.
> Where u at? 😤
You immediately reply back. Your conversations have been practice for your future relationship:
> Can’t find you in this crowd 
> Taylor Swift is just across me XD
> Scarlett Johannson too
> And I think I saw Zendaya and Yuna talking with each other, can’t confirm though, they’re far away
To which she answers:
> Stop playing around.
> Get over here NOW
> Do you style any of them? 
> You don’t.
> Come here. NOW.
It’s a simple but strong warning. Aside from the fact that you’re there to attend to Ryujin’s needs and not larp as a celebrity, there's a change in her attitude during these events. She becomes strangely more attached. It’s become a byword for you to mention other women around her, yet she interacts with them in a friendly light for the cameras to see.
Ryujin’s preoccupied with what’s presumably the umpteenth interview of many when you finally reunite with her. She takes another moment to pose for the next wave of cameras, picture perfect as always, then after, she finally turns her gaze, meeting yours. It has been ten minutes since her last text, and you have many reasons to say why you’ve vanished.
None of which truly matters.
“There you are.” She says, glaring angrily at you, tone laced with contempt, sounding like you were gone for days.
“I can explain, Miss Shin,” you try to say, but it has no effect as she approaches you, careful as ever to keep a picturesque facade in front of the media. You can see her holding herself back from popping a vein. “Apparently President Biden and his wife are in attendance and we were told to make way for his entire security team—”
The way Ryujin pulls you by the ear while you both retreat from the chaotic crowd is comical. In a sea of cameras and eyewitnesses, some tabloid’s bound to catch you, take the unfolding scene out of context, and write a rushed article that spreads like wildfire, but no, it doesn’t draw an ounce of attention. She's a small fry in a pond of bigger fish, after all. Over your corner, you see a dozen Secret Service slowly guide the president along the carpet, parting everyone around old Joe. In a way, watching him brings you to a strange realization: that you can empathize with the poor geezer. You’re both in the same predicament, being strung along to places you have no zero interest in.
It’s an effective distraction. An air of tense, awkward silence falls upon you both as you stare at each other, your personal conflict hidden away from the public eye. You open your mouth, about to say a word, and—
Whack!
Ryujin hits you with the hardest of palms, all her pent-up frustration released with a single, powerful smack of your cheek. The force echoes throughout the enclosed space like thunder. Your lips draw a little blood. A quick rub of your face reinforces the consequence for your actions. Rough. Still, to say she looks unhappy after enforcing her will upon you is an understatement.
And just when you try to open your mouth (without the intention to complain; you’ve given up at this point), she follows it up with a second slap, with about half the impact of the first. This time, the other cheek. Her gaze is scathing, lethal, hypnotic—as if challenging you to try her already short patience. Say something, motherfucker, is subtly etched on her expressive lips without the need to verbalize them. 
Another tense moment of silence. She makes sure your eyes never leave her contact. When it finally breaks, her judgment echoes in your head like the toll of a death bell—a lingering reminder that you’ve truly fucked up.
“You’ll be seeing me after tonight,” she says, each word delivered like an arrow straight to your heart. Before facing the world again, she adds another devastating blow, “My hotel room. Midnight. Sharp.”
—————
For the most part, in the eyes of the public, you seem to have done a fantastic job styling Ryujin for tonight’s gala. Within hours of the event, numerous articles published of the event list her among the best dressed stars, praising the bold nature of her outfit, as she intended in that vlog-style video from earlier. It’s all smiles as you watch her from afar, casually mingling with every celebrity in attendance. In case she needs to remain fresh, have new makeup applied, or change into a new dress for afterparty purposes—sometimes all of the above—you’re closely on standby. Ultimately, she doesn’t; not a single time she has called or texted for assistance. In a way, it’s alarming.
Her reminder sticks firmly on the back of your mind. Every word she says, she means it—no matter how small or big they are. It lingers even as her personal driver and bodyguard messages you with the instruction to return to the car, where she’s mysteriously absent, having been commanded by Ryujin herself to send you and the rest of her personnel home. It’s uncharacteristically strange; either she’s changed her mind and is having a good time at the event, or she’s probably drunk out of her mind, and the latter is typically the norm.
When you retreat to your room, you nervously watch as the clock slowly ticks towards the inevitable. It’s like witnessing your death. You know you can’t stop it, and you can’t look away, either. With the understanding that you’ll likely see the sun rise when it’s all said and done, you don’t even bother to slip into your sleepwear. 
The clock turns midnight. Seconds later, you receive a text on your phone. The message. It immediately disproves any theory or hope of meeting her good graces:
> Meet me in my room. Don’t even think about hiding or running, cause I will know
Of course you comply; you really have no other choice.
Five minutes later, you’re at her door again, with nothing but your suit, ready to face her judgment. It swings open of its own accord. Without any formalities, you step inside the familiar living room, now tidied up and cloaked in near darkness—a stark contrast to the mess it looked earlier in the day. Not a sign of her presence can be seen or felt. If you’ve been feeling uneasy before, now you’re straight up anxious, and the terror leaves you pale.
The door slams shut. Now you’re completely in the dark, with nothing to latch or cling to but your own resolve, which is slowly fading too. You want to speak her name, but you know you’ll be trying fate again, and fate has dealt you a cruel hand already. You didn’t want to fall even further. 
Your slow breaths are the only sign of life.
And the faint voice in your ear.
Wait—
Before you know it, you feel your throat tense up and your body tremble frantically. Faint shadows coil around your waist and neck, and in that moment, your fate has been sealed. 
“At least you’re not late this time.” Ryujin whispers into your ear. Then your eyes snap wide open.
“Agh!” 
A powerful surge of pain overwhelms your entire body, renders you weak in the knees. You fall to the ground, barely keeping yourself from completely melting onto the carpet with your hands. Still, the pangs remain too much. You can barely hold up on all fours, let alone move your arms and legs. 
It’s not enough. A soft hand hovers across your arched back, brushes through your hair, before it’s immediately followed by a direct blow to your nape. Your shout of agony reverberates throughout the dark room while you’re forced further down on your knees. Nearly forced into a prostrate position, you’re barely holding on. Another hit of this force could knock you unconscious, maybe worse.
“You’re going to learn your lesson today,” says Ryujin, strutting from behind you, cloaked in what appears to be a white gown. She’s holding something that you can’t identify, but you can tell she’s not in the mood to play games. Sparks of electricity flash and fade close to her hand. It was a taser all along. You probably would have guessed that from the intense shocking pain you’re currently feeling.
“Bedroom, slowpoke,” she sternly commands you as she saunters toward the room first, leaving you alone to pick yourself up. You’re still reeling from the two shocks of electricity applied to your waist and neck; it stings. Your body struggles, aches, cries out in despair, but you ultimately muster up enough power to follow her minutes later.
What greets you in the bedroom is a dimly lit bed, with Ryujin as its centerpiece, and both ends of her figure bathed in a faint wave of orange lamp light. She’s draped in nothing but the same hotel-issued bathrobe from earlier, her legs crossed, gazing at you from behind designer shades, smirking with malicious intent. It’s regal, seductive, inviting, intimidating. You honestly could stare at this sight all day long.
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Before you entertain the thought, she cuts it off. “Strip.”
Her gaze lingers as you quickly bare yourself in front of her. She grins, giggles, adjusts her glasses with each piece of clothing removed. It flashes at her widest when you’ve divested your shirt and your pants, revealing your chest and your evident bulge, unknowingly growing hard behind the elastic fabric. It seems to spark a new idea within her, even though she’s the type of woman who follows through with her plans after they’ve been organized and premeditated.
She hops off the bed, slowly saunters toward you with trained, modellike fashion, using you as a makeshift catwalk. Turning the corner, she retreats behind your back, gripping a hand on your neck, craning the other down your bare chest. Her tongue tickles the back of your ear, which morphs into the smallest of smooches while she drags you to the bed like a hostage. As she hauls you over the mattress, she continues to feel your skin and body, your ears titillated by the gentle moans and whimpers from her sultry lips.
Your bump knees with the bed before she sends you flying over the edge. Temptation comes knocking at the door of your suppressed lips; you’re itching to cry out in pain, pleading for a bit more consideration. You know it’s a futile effort. When it comes to sex, Ryujin was anything but gentle. 
“Don’t look. Stay still.” 
Following her command is second nature to you; even when your positions were interchanged, it was merely an illusion—you were never in control. Ryujin plants a palm around your throat, forcing your stare against the bedrest. The clanging sound of something resembling a belt or a buckle keeps you curious. Tense, breaths keep you calm. Deep down, you know what’s about to happen; there’s no stopping it, you can only brace for impact. 
In the gap between the point of no return, she tells you her mindstate, how her frustration and apparent jealousy never receded. “I hated every minute I spent there. You have no idea how difficult it was to keep a face in front of everyone, especially after seeing Yuna. Fucking. Yuna.”
Your reaction comes out, not through coherent words, but through a labored groan. You feel her finger circle rings around your ass, sticky and wet. Of course she was there, social media couldn’t stop buzzing about her appearance—and she rarely shows up to these galas. Now it’s all making sense. After all, you were Yuna’s stylist before Ryujin snatched you away. 
Ryujin continues to apply lube around your sensitive hole, occasionally fingering you. Holding in the groans from the discomfort proves to be impossible, but she prefers to hear you whine, especially when her name is spoken. It’s the perfect reprieve from the evening’s frustrations, keeping her from raising her voice to the ceiling. “She pisses me off so fucking much. First stealing my thunder at every fashion week, now this? I thought she hated art galas?”
It’s evident that she doesn’t like Yuna in any shape whatsoever. If not for the cameras and all the famous people in the building, she’d already be trading blows with her. If there was any one person she wanted dead, it would have to be Shin Yuna. Of course, knowing this, you never included your time with her on your job application, let alone mention the fact you briefly spoke at the event behind her back. She was in an already spiraling mood, and you didn’t need to make it even worse.
“I was thinking of using dildos for tonight, maybe just my fingers even, but I don’t think it’ll be enough. I really hope you understand.” That last sentence—she sounds apologetic, remorseful, but the warning is ultimately shallow; she’ll rough you up, wreck you, ruin you, and enjoy every moment of it. You’re merely a blank canvas to her twisted fantasies.
“Oh, oh–fuck!” She cries out, joining your deep scream in harmony as she plunges the dildo into your warm, wet hole. This isn’t your first experience on the receiving end of Ryujin’s strap, yet every plunge feels as destructive and spine breaking as the first. No pleasantries or formalities, just apply the lube then hit. The idea of teasing you goes against her very blunt, assertive nature.
“Shit—oh fucking shit, you’re so goddamn tight,” she says, snaking a hand around your waist as her plastic dick slowly penetrates your hole, little by little. She has you grasping at pillows, staring at the ceiling then down to the sheets, until you find the twisted image of her hips slowly pounding against your ass, letting the pleasure of pegging overwhelm her. It should be excruciatingly painful, an agonizing reminder to never get on her wrong side, but no, there’s something hot about getting dicked by a tough woman like her that arouses you.
Eventually, she comes to her senses, finds her footing, and remembers that she’s meant to punish you, not reward you. She knows how good you make her feel, even if your cock is meant to be inside hers, not the other way around. You can’t help speaking your mind, and it boosts Ryujin’s ego to the moon. “Please. Fucking use me, Miss Shin. Fucking ruin my hole like how I ruin yours, miss.”
Even upside down, you can see how visibly delighted she is to hear those words every single time. Can’t hide that wide smirk plastered on her lips, no matter how upset she is. It’s intoxicating. No matter how hard you’re huffing, the pleasure she derives from using you keeps you going. 
Slamming your eyes shut, Ryujin does what you both want. Fucks you with her dildo hard, clenches and quelches with each careful, intricate stroke. Sometimes you’re in that position, taking her ass and ravaging her body as your own. Now it’s her turn, and she’s been taking after you. Between thrusts, she slaps your cheek, pulls on your neck and hair. You’ve built this alarmingly toxic work relationship, but the sex has never felt this invigorating, so cathartic. The perfect use of frustration to be channeled into something pleasurable and rapturous. 
You’ve never seen Ryujin this focused, this committed to wrecking you. She’s using your hole with such ferocity you think she’ll make you bleed out. Behind those glazed, pleasure-filled eyes, she sees nothing but red. Difficult as it is, you follow a string of moans from her lips hidden beneath a continuous echo of groans from your end. It doesn’t help that these walls are thin and everyone on this floor can hear your escapades.
Neither of you care. There’s a good reason as to why she booked the whole floor to begin with.
The bed quakes, and quakes, and quakes—until it doesn’t. 
A puzzlingly calm fills the room after countless minutes pass. Ryujin’s frantic breaths close the silent gap, having pulled the dildo from your hole. It’s slick. You realize the change of pace. 
“Miss Shin, why did you stop?”
She doesn’t reply immediately. When she does, she’s still catching her breath between spoken words. “I told you—it wasn’t going to be enough. Lay down for me, will you?”
Without a second thought, you comply. This gives you an opportunity to truly see her in the flesh for the first time tonight. She’s wearing a combination of corset and lingerie, her juicy thighs layered with lace garter. Hopping off the bed, she unbuckles the strap around her waist, tossing it aside to the floor. You then focus on her plump ass, accentuated by her slim thong.
Damn, she looks better now than she does naked. You feel proud that she’s wearing your tailor-made lingerie.
Before you entertain the thought of undressing the very underclothes you’ve prepared for her, she slips the boxers off your ankles. She climbs onto the bed, stands atop you. Even with her short stature, in this position, she’s larger than life, a dominating presence that only desires complete control. 
“Hmm, I don’t know what I should do. I could let you fuck me, but that doesn’t sound right for a punishment,” she comments, playfully placing a finger on her chin, jokingly thinking. For a brief moment, it does appear that she’s stumped.
When the idea hits her, her eyes widen, and she has this self-conceited look, as if she’s got it all planned out. 
She reaches a hand down to her knee, slowly peels one of the stockings down to her ankles. Then she does the same for the other half. The way she positions both legwear on your cock is intentional; it’s to stir the idea of pounding into her cunt a real possibility. Your gaze remains fixated on Ryujin’s face, ever flawless in her scantily-clad figure, being her model self atop you. 
As she tugs on the lace of her panties, you start reacquainting your mind with the image of her tight cunt. She lowers it, barely down her thighs, enough space to tease, enough to make your heart race. Her attention is nowhere close to you; she has other priorities, and fingering herself is one of them. She rubs a digit around her heat, moans out in ecstasy with the same energy as getting fucked. The trembles of her body send aftershocks that reverberate all over the bed. 
It’s already hot enough to get fucked by Ryujin’s strap, but this—the sight of Ryujin pleasuring herself, mouth gaped wide open—is a hundred times better. This is the same reaction she has shown throughout the numerous times you’ve railed her, even though you’ve seen that face during sex. Against the mirror, against the water’s reflection, against the tinted windows of her cars—her face serves as motivation that keeps you hard whenever she demands it. Your hands begin to move on their own, reach down to the groin unknowingly, unsure of whether she’d want you to masturbate or not.
You feel your hard cock, already partially soaked with precum, dripping on her garter. As much as you want to keep them on, you can’t go against the deep seated urge to masturbate with her. Her foot begins to lean against your waist, right as you begin to stroke your shaft with your fingers. Moaning alongside her, you thrust your hips upward, passionately murmuring her name, with nothing but a singular thought: her pussy.
It’s etched on your needy lips. “You’re so sexy, Miss Shin. Please let me fuck you, God—”
She whines as though your hot breath is against her neck, growling a tone higher than normal. Her left foot is slowly clenching around your balls, the other at the bridge between your thigh and your crotch, gently nudging your free hand to move aside. She’s beginning to apply pressure on you, perhaps a subtle gesture to make you stop and give way for her feet to take over, but you’re engrossed in the moment to fully realize. Then again, subtlety isn’t her speciality.
It’s only when her foot presses down on your active hand that you slow to a complete halt. You gently rest her soles on your shaft, slowly wrap her soft toes around your tip. For the most part, their grip is shaky, but when they stick, they feel so slick, so warm, and significantly better than whatever effort your fingers can muster. She can’t wear heels without a few kisses placed on them, you recall; something about being Cinderella growing up, how she prefers to be treated, to receive nothing but showers of praise and attention, and you’re doing just that.
Her digits seemingly acknowledge what they’re stepping on, and soon enough it becomes the perfect makeshift ring to stimulate your cock. Her toes just feel the best, most direct spots around your sensitive shaft, gradually building momentum for when you eventually paint her pretty feet. At least, that’s the goal. You’re both drowning in pleasure, chasing separate highs, but using each other’s bodies as conduit for your own personal gain.
And it’s not that she doesn’t know; she knows. You’ve caught a glimpse of her half-lidded eye peeking down. She sees it, merely chuckles at the notion, and continues to finger herself atop your helpless body. Mutual trust brings you together; she won’t stop you as long as you won’t do the same to her.
“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard,” you say, breaths hurried, and it isn’t a matter of if, but when. “Every part of you feels so good, Ryu.”
You’re past formalities at this point. She’s too far gone to care that you've called her by her casual name. Her fingers, both slick and warm at once, are catching fire from the frenzied pace she’s rubbing her clit, certain her dripping juices will find solace on your splayed figure. Racing with her orgasm, her underwear is halfway down her meaty legs, her very foundations shaking. Inadvertently pressing her foot tightly on your cock, she’s holding on for dear life, and it threatens to steal your soul before you reach that immaculate high.
With friction at an all-time high, one rough, slippery slip between her toes, all while your loins burn , moving as if you’re burying yourself deep in her cunt, eager to fill her with seed. The thin thread snaps. Sends you careening over the edge.
Your fall is accompanied by the endless scream of her name. To have your cock be graciously drained by her feet, it would be disrespectful not to. She’s still going, chasing that high even as your cum geysers all over her feet, spills over your knees, your belly, on the sheets, as if her own slick didn’t already make an utter mess of this five-star bed. You’re mentally cheering her on, distracting yourself from the endless cascade of seed gushing beneath you. 
This disastrous mess finds you again, this time in the form of Ryujin’s orgasm. She orgasms, cries her loudest cry, her features at their most corrupted. Her pussy gushes like a rushing waterfall, completely soiling her legs and panties with her slick juices. Your groin manages to salvage whatever her thighs haven’t absorbed, and it’s a sticky pool that latches onto her dainty feet. When she steps off your cock, the squelch of wet seed splatters on the sheets until she touches the ground.
You both take some time apart, let the aftermath of your orgasms fizzle out. Ryujin assesses the damage to her body; she’s still a model, after all. She hastily rids of the soiled underwear, treating it like some kind of contaminated object that can only be cleansed by fire. From the looks of it, she’s committed something dangerous, and you’ve done something scandalous. 
“Shit. We got carried away,” you say, lifting your head from the bed, panicked.
“No. You got carried away,” she replies, facing you with that familiar icy gaze. The honeymoon period is over. “Did I allow you to plant my feet on your cock? Huh?”
Swallowing your throat, you understand that she’s technically right, but also, she most certainly enjoyed the feeling of stepping on you—something you can use against her. Still, Ryujin’s word overrides all reasoning, no matter how logical they are.
You see her facade fall apart when she approaches you again. She climbs onto the bed like a cat, arches her back, and sends you back down to the mattress when she pounces on you. On her lips is the widest smirk you’ve ever seen on her. 
She wants more.
Rising to her feet, she plants her toes directly on your chin, oozing with the remains of your cum mixed with hers. “You did this, now you’ll clean it up.” 
As your tongue laps it up, she occasionally disrupts your rhythm by kicking you several times. Not that you’re hurting her (you couldn’t even if you tried) but for the delight of bringing you misfortune. It’s completely in line with the typical abuse and inhumane treatment you face from her during work hours. You won’t complain, but that was never in the cards, anyway. 
“I can’t believe my stylist is a complete freak. Fucking hell,” she comments, glaring you down as you give her toe the occasional kiss. She’s visibly disgusted by the realization sinking in, but deep down, she knows you’re the exact stylist she’s been looking for. 
—————
And as if that’s not enough, she’s found a punishment perfectly suited for you. 
“Just so you know, you’re not getting paid after the stunt you pulled on me today,” says Ryujin, in reference to your accidental disappearance during the red carpet. You’re laid out on the floor, prone, your groans stifled by the living room carpet. Meanwhile, her feet tread all over your bare back at a steady tempo, leaving what could have easily been hickeys red marks and footprints on your skin.
“How long do I have left, Miss Shin?” you ask, voice almost indiscernible.
“About ten minutes,” she replies, looking out the hotel room window, watching dawn slowly break over the Parisian sky. “Don’t ever disappoint me again, do you understand? Freak.”
——————
(A/N: First commissioned work complete! Definitely exploring elements out of my specialty, did you expect her to peg OC? Fun dynamic to write, thank you for reading!)
(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can send me a commission :D)
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coralinnii · 2 months
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Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 
Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳
‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧
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↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader
feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),
Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.
Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
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You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.
Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 
Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.
If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 
Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 
However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 
You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.
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Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.
Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 
If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 
Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 
Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 
He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation
Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.
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Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 
Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 
He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 
A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.
He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 
Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 
Really, how could he resist you? 
Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.
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Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.
Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 
“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”
He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.
Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.
This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 
Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.
Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!
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valstranquility · 1 year
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BEST MOMENTS - CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: for their favorite couple’s 5 year anniversary, fans share their favorite moments of them.
face claim: dina denoire
notes: pls excuse the translated french or any inconsistencies/errors
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JANUARY 23, 2018
Charles and Y/N were headed to their friend's birthday party when they took the picture.
They had been dating for 7 months at that point and were definitely in the honeymoon stage, never being able to keep their hands to themselves.
While waiting for the elevator to get to their friend's floor, Y/N thought it would be a great time to take a picture for her iconic fit checks.
Charles knew what she was doing but decided to interrupt her anyway.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek while she was taking her pictures making her let out a laugh. Charles smiled into her cheek hearing her laugh.
"Baby, you've gotta let me do this quick, we're almost there," Y/N said through her laughs.
"Let me be in one," he whined.
Charles had already amassed a small but dedicated fan base, causing him to keep many things to himself, his relationship included.
Y/N was a smaller influencer, but she also had a very dedicated fan base as well. They both decided they wanted to keep having their fun in private without any strangers looking into their relatively young relationship.
"Fine, but stand over there," Y/N sighed out with a smile.
She posted that picture on her story 15 minutes after her fit check causing many people to slide up and ask her who the mystery man was.
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YOUR BIRTHDAY, 2021
The video was short, only 17 seconds long.
You could hear people talking in the background, utensils clinking against plates, but the main focus of the video was Charles' words toward Y/N.
"Look who it is, it's the birthday girl!" he said excitedly.
"Look how beautiful she is, the prettiest girl in the world," Charles' voice turned soft.
Y/N's face turned warm. She let a giant smile take over her face and let out a small giggle. She would never be used to the amount of compliments he gave her.
"I love you," Y/N said to him.
"Je t'aime, ma bonheur," he replied softly.
The camera was then angled towards the table like it was about to be turned off but it wasn't quite yet. Before the video ended you could hear the couple share a quick kiss before Y/n laughed, saying, "You're not posting that."
"Watch me."
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AUGUST 2022
The trip to Italy was not planned.
Charles and Y/N were going to spend their break in their Monaco apartment but Charles decided to be spontaneous and surprised Y/N with a trip to Italy.
"Come on, it'll be fun. And we haven't been to Italy in a really long time," Charles said, trying his best to be convincing, but he knew the moment he brought it up she was on board.
"Fine," Y/N said, pretending like the decision bothered her.
"We're going to have so much fun," he said rushing to her, picking her up, and spinning her around causing her to let out a loud laugh.
Their trip was amazing.
They had incredible food and went to some of the best clubs. There wasn't a night where the couple stayed in, wanting to be out and about exploring every day
Halfway through their trip Pierre and Kika joined them. Y/N and Kika got close because their boyfriends were practically together all the time.
The first photo is from when the group went to a little party they were invited to by some people they met. Y/N and Charles were posing for a picture taken by Kika. They thought she was done taking it and leaned in closer to each other. They leaned in for a kiss but a flash going off stopped them.
"Sorry! You guys just looked so cute. Don't stop on my account," Kika said.
Charles and Y/N laughed before they shared a kiss. They took the phone back and looked through their pictures.
The second photo was again taken by Kika. The group of four were walking to a restaurant for dinner when the picture was taken.
Charles, ever so protective, wrapped his arm around Y/N's waist, guiding her the right way. Y/N, wanting to hold his hand, wrapped her arm around her back and grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers.
Learning her lesson from last time, Kika turned the flash off and took the picture, not sending it to them until each couple said their goodnights and headed to bed.
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MAY 12, 2022
Charles and Y/N were in New York after the Miami GP. They were celebrating Charles' P2.
Y/N had been to New York more times than Charles, so she thought she would take him to some of her favorite places in the city.
The whole night Charles had a hand on her at all times. Whether it was a hand around her waist or simply holding her hands. He was in a touchy mood and she noticed.
He kept asking her for kisses throughout the entire night, and she would be crazy to deny him. At one point he begged her to sneak into the bathroom with him so he could give her a proper kiss and not the small pecks she was giving him.
They were both aware that there were cameras on them all throughout the night but they couldn't find it in themselves to care. If anything it made Charles want to show even more affection. He wanted the world to know that the beautiful woman beside him was his.
JUNE 22, 2023
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liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, and 17,294,402 others
charles_leclerc I can't wait to make you my wife ❤️ Happy 5 years
view all 409,259 comments
user1 THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED
user2 OMG
scuderiaferrari Congratulations to the future Mr. & Mrs. Leclerc!
user3 this is the cutest thing ever
pierregasly Finally mate! So happy for you guys 👏
user4 HOLY SHIT 😭
user5 this anniversary post tops all the rest of them
francisca.cgomes so so happy for you guys
user6 they way she’s looking at him 😭😭❤️❤️
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themeeplord · 1 year
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@naffeclipse‘s cryptid boys, but they're a Monster Hunter icon!
I've wanted to make another MH World style icon ever since I made my first one. But I didn't know what I wanted to turn into an icon,, until now!! Making this was so much fun!!!
I'd love making more of these! I just gotta figure out what/who I should draw next.. and also get the time to draw it... :')
(Nerdy ranting and stuff under the cut)
Ah yes, combining two of my brainrots. No one asked for this. Only my brain did. Please don’t mind me in my weird little corner.
I would love to fight them in a Monster Hunter game! They'd DEFINITELY be a powerful elder dragon of some sort! I don't know what ailments they'd inflict, definitely bleed but I don't know what else. Maybe they can make the arena pitch black and move unseen in the shadows, only giving away where they are from their glowing red eyes. Maybe they can throw sticky demon goo at you, making little puddles where you slow down or even get stuck if you get hit by one of theier projectiles directly, kinda like being stuck in tar. And while you're stuck they're getting ready to swing their giant powerful arms at you!
Hands and face are definitely weak points. Breakable horns, back and claws! I wonder what their armor and weapons would look like!! :O
I can't help but fantasize about their music too! I think making it quiet instead of large and grandiose works better for them. Something that would fit their elusiveness. Low rumbling notes with some higher notes and fast tempo bits scattered around to keep you on your toes, never knowing when and where their next attack will strike as they stalk you in the shadows.
Is it weird that in one moment I wanna cuddle this creature and in the next I wanna fight them and make armor and weapons out of their body parts kljfbvlasjkvbs
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horsesarecreatures · 4 months
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Attendees of the 2023 USEA Annual Meeting & Convention were in for a real treat with this year’s keynote speaker, Dr. Temple Grandin. Dr. Grandin is an icon in the worlds of agriculture and autism and is most notably known for applying her own experiences as an autistic individual to her studies on how stress impacts both humans and animals. In this year’s keynote address, Dr. Grandin shared several different scenarios encountered in both her studies and the studies of her animal science students at Colorado State University that apply to the equestrian community. Take a look at some of our favorite takeaways from this year’s keynote address below:
1. Animals live in a sensory-based world. Get away from verbal language to understand animals and instead evaluate what is the animal hearing, smelling, and touching and use that to your advantage when exposing your horse to objects that often spook them.
“Sudden new things are scary for people with autism and for animals. If your horse is afraid of flags, don’t shove it in their face.," she said. "Decorate their pasture fence or arena fence with flags and let them walk up to it on their own.”
2. Exposure, conducted in the right manner, is the best training tool for your horse.
“A lot of animals lead sheltered lives," said Dr. Grandin. "I had a chance to go to the Keeneland Thoroughbred sale [Lexington, Kentucky], and the horses were terrified of the auctioneer because they hadn’t been trained for the sound of the auctioneer's voice. They also hadn’t been prepared for a strange groom or handler to hold them. What I realized was that when a horse was swapped from his regular groom to a new person, the horse became anxious and let out a giant shriek. I noticed that noise. I don’t think anybody wants to make that stressful mess, but they did. Now the horse was alone in this strange, creepy, scary new place, and his regular groom was gone. You have to expose your animals to enough different things.”
3. Horses think in pictures which can impact how and why they spook at certain objects.
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“This is an interesting study that one of my students did that explains why a horse might suddenly spook. If you look at this playset, you will notice that it looks totally different when it's rotated. My students walked young fillies and colts past this playset 15 times at the walk, until the horses just walked by it without stopping, raising their heads up, or flaring their nostrils. When this thing was turned, it became a new thing. It became something different.”
4. Everything feels different to horses at different gaits.
“The saddle feels different at a walk, trot, and canter," she said. "I suggest to students to put a backpack on and then walk, trot, and canter so they can see how it feels different. Sometimes you have to go slow and think about how you are going to introduce things to your horse. Since they are sensory-based, it is much more specific.”
5. Animals are very fear specific. Keep that in mind when dealing with a horse who habitually exhibits fear as a response to certain stimuli or when trying to expose a horse to something new.
“This horse was terrified by black cowboy hats because he associated a really bad experience with a person wearing a black cowboy hat," she said. "So black cowboy hats were very frightening, but white cowboy hats were fine—it was very specific. Now, if I put the black cowboy hat on the ground, it was a lot less scary, but as I brought that hat toward my head, it got more and more scary. And the problem with fear memories is that they are very, very difficult to get rid of. So let's try to not have that.”
6. Animals have emotions and, just like in humans, each animal or each horse is going to be very different in the way they manage their individual emotions.
“Fear is a proper scientific word," said Dr. Grandin. "When I first started doing scientific research in the early '90s, I wasn’t allowed to use the word 'fear' as they said it wasn’t scientific to assign human emotions to animals. But now we know that animals have emotions; they definitely do. Fear is real, and some animals genetically are going to have higher fear responses than other animals. It turns out with me that my fear center is three times larger than normal. You can have animals that are higher fear or low fear. An animal that is high fear is an animal that gets scared more easily; their heart rate and cortisol levels go up more, and when you put that animal in a high-stress situation they are more likely to get sick.”
7. The best thing for your horse is to let them be a horse.
“We have to look at what animals need," she said. "Dogs in an animal shelter need 45 minutes every day of funsies with the volunteer, that is what they need because we have bred them to be social. A lot of horses need to get out and run around in the pasture just to have a chance to be a horse. I am concerned that some horses are so locked up in stalls. You’ve got stallions with abnormal behavior? It’s because they have never learned that give and take of social relationships with other animals. Does the animal have a life worth living? Does it have a positive, fun, experience? Does it get to do things it likes to do? For a horse, that is getting out and running around. You want to let the horse have positive, happy experiences.”
8. Horses can be life-changing for people of all backgrounds, but especially for kids with autism.
“When I was in a regular high school, I got bullied and teased for being autistic," Dr. Grandin shared. "So I went away to a special school where horses became my life. The only place I had friends was when I was riding horses or getting horses ready for shows. I learned how to work with horses and there are a lot more troubled teenagers today who cleaning horse stalls, taking care of horses, and getting involved could be the best thing that has ever happened to them.”
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theaawalker · 5 months
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Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]
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Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)
You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he’s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.
"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.
Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”
You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.
During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.
“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.
You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.
“Sure,” you answer.
One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.���
Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.
“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”
Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”
Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.
When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.
Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.
“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”
You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.
The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.
She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.
Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”
His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”
Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”
All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?
At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.
“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”
That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.
You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.
Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”
He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.
He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.
“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.
You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.
He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”
You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.
What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.
“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”
Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.
You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”
You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?
After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.
• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •
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partycatty · 3 months
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I can't get enough of young Johnny MK11! I love him, god!🥵 How do you like this topic for fanfic? Fem!reader put his jacket and glasses on his naked body, and took sexy selfies.😎❤️‍🔥 Johnny saw this aaand here I’m already giving way to your fantasy hehe~
Thank you in advance! I like the way you write! Well done💕
i'm not sure if i read it right ?? lmk, but i went with my interpretation
johnny cage > call me
johnny's out late working, as usual. you've had enough of waiting and decide to bait him into coming home early
warnings: PHONE SEX TEEHEE
notes: do you guys also like genuinely tweak out wishing he was real? he's so perfect? peak malewife? wishing u were [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] rn?
masterlist
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• you were often left to your own devices when it came to living with johnny. he, after all, was a star constantly running around on new projects. any studio would be at his knees for just one contract. he was hollywood's richest man, and you were lucky to call him your boyfriend.
• sure, it had it's moments. the paps stealing upskirt shots from you wasn't ideal, neither was the bush stalking. but you could see past that. what was hardest was when johnny would be gone all through the night, dressed in that stupid ninja mime getup that you learned to loathe since it pulled him away more than his other works. does the world really need a ninja mime trilogy? yes, apparently.
• boredom overtook you, since browsing on your phone for eight hours was now becoming a horrible habit on your neck - and mental stability. you took to mopping the floors, tidying the countertops, dusting his awards. finally, you settled on your walk-in closet.
• it was spacious, big enough for you to each get a side. your side was always decently organized to your liking, but johnny's was... atrocious. jackets hung on one sleeve, some on the floor. the only thing that was neatly organized on his side was the giant rack of sunglasses. he always had a pair to match the outfit and occasion. he probably had about three pairs on him at work.
• as you tried to rearrange his clothing, his distinct, classy scent filled your nose, sticking to the inside of your nose and you couldn't help but feel heated. you missed him, him and his dick. you took a deep whiff of his iconic blue and purple jacket, the one he left at home knowing he'd have to get in costume anyway.
• you threw it over yourself, embracing your torso and spinning in the mirror. it fit him perfectly, but on you it was like a blanket. the sleeves sagged off of your arms and your midsection was swimming. his size was impressive, his form shaped like a greek god.
• you couldn't help yourself, the memories of him and scent turned you on. blame pheromones, dammit! but, you realized you could take advantage of this.
• throwing your shirt off, you donned the jacket again, wearing it like he does - chest exposed. a purple pair of sunglasses practically screamed your name from the rack and you put them on. you looked just like him...! no, not really.
• touching yourself in his clothes was not a new idea, but there certainly was a new idea blossoming in your head. you pulled your phone out and snapped a mirror selfie, trying to flex like he does but your muscles were muffled from the loose fabric.
• how's this for the next cagecon? you text johnny, attaching the photo. you didn't expect him to reply right away, considering he was at work. but before you could lock your phone for the moment, his name popped up within milliseconds.
• don't take me away from work, baby! johnny replies with a winking emoji.
• what if i want to? it's so lonely in your mansion, you reply with an angel emoji, sitting on the edge of your shared bed as you fight a grin. you angle the phone downward, capturing your bare chest. your nipples brush against the jacket, making them stick out through the front. johnny takes a moment to reply, but you feel your phone vibrate once, then twice, then three times.
• fuck, you're so hot in my clothes.
• i'm taking my break early. can't work with a boner.
• the third message was a short video of him palming himself through that stupid costume. the only thing you can thank that outfit for is how prominent it makes his bulge.
• phone sex through texts was also nothing new to you two, considering the distance. as your fingers sink under your panties, assuming that's where things will go before you get a fourth message.
• call me. please.
• you sit up straight, biting your lip. his desperation always got you going. you kicked your pants and panties aside.
• you send one last photo, your body spread out on the bed in his clothes. your hand conceals your dripping pussy playfully.
• why should i? you shoot the message out, giggling at your own words.
• johnny doesn't even reply, he opens your message and calls you. you eagerly accept his call. his voice is echoey and rough. you realize he's hiding in the bathroom. his breathing is heavy.
• "are you proud of yourself?" he asks in a low rumble, trying to stay quiet but his flustered huffing makes his voice whiny. "look at what you did."
• he sends a photo. his cock is eager and out, and you see a teardrop of precum on his tip. you happily exchange that photo for another one, a short video of you gingerly touching yourself. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
• "i couldn't wait til i'd get home," he admits, and you hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. "i want to, i want to come home and fuck you like that, but i'm here for another two hours."
• "you couldn't have waited?" you ask in disbelief, circling small loops on your aching clit.
• "no." johnny's reply sounded so sure of himself, so convinced in his words. he was as firm as he would've been if you asked him if he killed someone. he knew this to be a fact, he could not wait. "i can't help it, sweetheart. you're just so... god."
• his breaths get heavier and needier, you can sense he's speeding up on himself. you try to match what you assume is his pace, one that he confirms through another video. he held the phone below his dick, giving you a delicious view of his abs and bobbing adam's apple as he swallowed hungrily.
• his arms were painted white, but his hands were his usual flesh tone since he wore gloves for the costume. even still, his veins were incredibly prominent and really helping you reach your climax.
• "we gotta make this quick, baby," he grumbles into the phone, muffling his moans through bitten lips. you're a little louder due to your privacy, much to his delight. "people'll start looking for me."
• "johnny," you whimper out, back arching up off of the bed. "i'm already close." through your haze, you get a video of you masturbating wildly, the jacket now sliding down to your sides and fully revealing your tits as you fuck yourself. "i-i need you, i need you so bad-"
• "i know, baby," he breathlessly replies, straining himself to avoid moaning out your name and attracting attention. "let me hear how badly you need me."
• you could only spew out utter nonsense at this point as your orgasm is dangerously close. he seems to get the memo, though, and gives you permission to cum with him. your needy cries and his muffled grunts make a perfect chorus that you only wish were in person.
• when your breathing slows, as does his, you hear him chuckle to himself. a new message appears in your chat.
• his weeping dick was cradled in his palm, as was a entire handful of semen dripping down his fingers. he wanted to show you just how hard you made him cum from phone sex alone.
• "round one was now," he mumbles as you hear him tear a piece of toilet paper to wipe his hand. "round two is when i get home. you gonna be ready for it, princess?"
• the phone rests on your bare, damp chest as you fixate on the ceiling. you take the sunglasses off and wipe your face with a smile.
• "i'm always ready," you reply with a giggle.
• "that's my girl. see you in two hours. i love you." and with that, he hangs up, leaving you a naked, sweaty mess that's only concealed in his jacket.
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notebookqueenofnarnia · 3 months
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Okay Demigods
now that Season 2 has been confirmed (!!!!!!!!!!) I am here to make my official appeal that you ALL read the books. and yes...i mean ALL the books. Because here is what you are missing if you don't:
(mostly spoiler free. mostly vibes and chaotic no context)
OG PERCY JACKSON
Percy's INCREDIBLE sarcasm
Lots of chaotic Mr. D moments
Percy's unending absolute obliviousness when it comes to: his own abilities/powers, his own feelings towards a certain daughter of Athena, and EVERYONE'S feelings towards him
the full list of Percy's felonies (it's longer than you think!)
how much Percy thinks about Annabeth, especially in the third book
The Hunters of Artemis (everyone's like 'which godly parent would you have?' but im like ??? who cares??? I'm running off with the girls to immortal to hunt men i mean monsters)
soooooooooo much Sally Jackson is the Best Mom (to everyone who walks through her door) content
BLACKJACK. TRANS ICON BLACKJACK THE PEGASUS.
Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare. (this is how the audiobook says her name every single time)
Paul Blofis
Sally Jackson, author
Poseidon: Blowfish?
HEROES OF OLYMPUS
If you don't read these books you are missing out on some of the coolest female characters Rick has created: PIPER (an iconic), HAZEL (unintentionally hilarious), REYNA (beautiful character arc), and ANNABETH's point of view will have you loving her on a whole other level, trust me
Also: COACH HEDGE
Leo
All The Ladies Love Leo
the audiobooks are INSANE. It felt like a full cast read the book, but no. it was just one insanely talented narrator.
FESTUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS (im a dragon girlie)
Personally, I spent a lot of time reading the OG 5 wondering about how Roman mythology plays into Percy's world. Uncle Rick answered my questions and answered them SO WELL
Hazel the horse girl
Frank the horsebirddolphinman
Frank, gentle himbo, my beloved son
MY FAVORITE SCENE WHICH INVOLVES PERCY NOT KNOWING HOW TO DRIVE, A HARPY, FRANK, AND HAZEL AND THEYRE ALL SCREAMING AND IM PRETTY SURE STUFF IS ON FIRE
Forced Proximity for 7 teenagers and one chaotically violent satyr (that's Coach Hedge)
Eros/Cupid being one the most genius things Rick's ever written
Percy's hate of Ares transcending god magic
(also his love of Annabeth, but that's like obvious)
PercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabe
weird barely gnome things
this one giant whose name is definitely not pronounced like female anatomy
everyone thinking Percy and Annabeth are constantly getting up to the hanky panky
a statue made me cry
Gay Grumpy/Sunshine (or should that be Death/Sunshine) origins!!
TRIALS OF APOLLO
Apollo, vain himbo of godly proportions is forced to live as Lester Papadopoulos
Percy: why
a very chaotic twelve year old daughter of Demeter
she commands Apollo around
plant magic
terrible great haikus at the start of every chapter
Sally Jackson being the best mom to everyone who comes to her door
magic shoes
a sassy magic prophetic arrow that talks in Shakespearean English
so much gay grumpydeath/sunshine content
also yes sunshine's dad is Apollo
Apollo sings
Grover! Piper! Reyna! Hazel! All the friends! Everyone
Jason! (also im sorry)
what if there were some trees who were an elite squad of warriors who also answer to the chaotic twelve year old
gay moms of the midwest
unicorns
in the last book, chiron takes the campers on a 'field trip' to help take down the big baddie and he shows up dressed as a warrior soccer mom with granola bars, water bottles, and extra swords attached to his fanny pack
a different chaotic twelve year old while fighting to the death in a building that's on fire: "CAN WE GO ON FIELD TRIPS EVERY WEEK?"
chiron: "ROSE DEAR RAISE YOUR SWORD A LITTLE HIGHER!"
okay im not going to spoil it but in the last book there is also this extremely horrifyingly violent moment that Uncle Rick somehow turns into one of the most hilarious things i've ever read
Piper in the epilogue
CHALICE OF THE GODS
more insanely funny percy first person narration
Grover, Percy, Annabeth reunite ("the gang is back together!" "The three musketeers!" "Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey!" "Excuse me?")
have you met the god of himbos? (Percy has)
SO
MANY
EASTER
EGGS
for Season one. you can totally see how Uncle Rick worked on the script and chalice together
if you liked Annabeth shoving Percy into the water....this one is for you
Percy, supreme god of snakes
the cutest cutest cutest cutest Percabeth content you will ever read
hippie gods (yes more than one)
Percy is literally obsessed with Annabeth
Annabeth already being the Jackson daughter in law
Sally Jackson and Paul and
For the record: You CAN read Chalice of the Gods without reading the other series, but please please please read all these books. The audiobooks are phenomenal.
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flamevbirdv · 5 months
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video essayists for these trying times!
I watch a lot of youtube so I thought I could round up some recs!
verilybitchie my favorite of the list. bi, trans lense on queer media. expert on calling out lazy representation. famously known for their video "good lgbt representation is boring" but my favorite is a bisexual history of dracula
The Morbid Zoo incredibly smart and sharp commentary on movies and social media. horror fan, clown fan, twilight apologist. my favorite video of hers is the pale man:physical fascism
Maggie Mae Fish powerhouse of the media analysis sphere. I learn so much every time I watch any of her videos. very clear spoken and funny. if you haven't checked her out yet this is your sign. some of her greates hits are "LGBT in fantasy" "superman won't save the cat" "fight club, an analysis" but loki, stalker & the war on terror blew my mind
Princess Weekes bi black icon. the place to go for videos on pop culture, race, feminism, etc. her video how true crime reveals the corruption of the legal system changed my life, no hyperbole. also check out her video on "purity culture & fandom"
Rowan Ellis queer media and history. recently tackles cultural issues like "the infantilization of millenial women" and "corporate queerbaiting" the problem with activist characters is a personal favorite of mine
Ladyknightthebrave a channel with less videos than most of the folks above but you need to watch her video on holocaust cinema
Quality Culture channel shared by two people who love movies (and music!) and research the shit out of their videos. some I really enjoyed are "death note: finding meaning in a meaningless world" "the iron giant: a study in heartfeel film making" and the conflicting ideals of hayao miyazaki
The Princess and the Scrivener it's been a while since they uploaded a video but if you are a fan of disney, these are your gals. however I have to reccomend their videos on dissability and ableism "the wonder of misscasting" and the shape of ableism a joke on the shape of water, yes this video is that old
BONUS!
Elliot Sang he talks about the real world with probably the most nuanced view I've seen from a youtuber ever. another list of greatest hits: "ADHD: a nightmare under capitalism" " is tik tok ruining music?" and "the problem with video essays" LMAO
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jewish-vents · 1 month
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first - i just want to say thank you for making this blog. it’s so important to know that we aren’t alone in the many things we’re experiencing and feeling right now, especially when so many of us have become painfully isolated as of late.
i apologize for how long this one is going to be.
i’ve been feeling so, so alone recently. my tumblr dash has been cut down to just a handful of jewish blogs that i can trust to be kind and understanding and nuanced, but it means that the majority of the content i see is about antisemitism and the war. after a while, it becomes draining to scroll through what feels like endless sadness. i turned to looking at fandom tags instead of following fandom blogs, but it makes me feel equally as insane to click on a blog about race cars and immediately see a post with 60k notes calling what’s happening in gaza “the new holocaust”. i started going back on twitter, but fan accounts on there too are only safe for a day or so before the account owner shares some awful antisemitic tweet from an account known to be an anti-jewish extremist. i went back on instagram briefly, but i was soon afraid to look at people’s stories for fear i’d see something terrible and lose yet another trusted person from my life.
in person, i have to walk by signs saying “zionism = genocide” and hastily scribbled palestinian flags with the colors in the wrong spot on my way to class every day. a wall across from my apartment says “BDS” in giant letters. i haven’t opened my curtains in months because of it. a “protest” of about 25 people stood in the center of campus and yelled and waved their fists in passing students’ faces, so jewish students didn’t go to class on any of the days they gathered. i only have one non jewish friend left at school - the rest abandoned me because i either called them out on antisemitic rhetoric or refused to go along with the idea that anyone, palestinian or israeli, muslim or jewish, is less than human. i had taken several of them along to our hillel’s seder in the past. i don’t know who i can safely go with this year. i have a few jewish friends, of course, but i love bringing goyische friends with little connection to judaism along to experience how joyful and loving jewish holidays can be.
it feels like there is no escape from this fucking war. it sickens me that it’s the only thing people pretend to care about - where is the attention for sudan, ukraine, armenia, uyghurs in china, syria, guyana? how is putting an emoji in your twitter bio or putting a translucent overlay of the palestinian flag on your tumblr icon any sort of real activism? how have we gone from “antisemitism is wrong” to “(((zionists))) control the world media”? it seems like the war is a fandom to these people. it seems like nobody cares enough to fully read and think critically about what they share, let alone do real research beyond looking at an infographic somebody shared on their instagram story. they’ll add on “don’t forget your click today!” to an unrelated twitter thread that went viral, flip the bird at the local starbucks, and put “won’t you free my palestine” on their instagram stories. they’ll anonymously tell a jew online to commit suicide. they’ll feel secure in the knowledge that they’re the perfect leftist, that this is somehow “good trouble”. all this praxis, and nothing to show for it but massive surges in hate crimes against jews. good job, guys! you singlehandedly saved every innocent person in gaza!
it’s isolating. it’s scary. jews can’t mourn. jews can’t be angry. jews can’t disagree. jews can’t suffer. jews can’t be whole, complex people with diverse beliefs and experiences. suffering is a game, and the goal is to hurt the most, scream the most, die the most, all to appease western leftists whose closest connection to war and violence was reading the hunger games in middle school.
i’m tired of it all. i want a peaceful and just resolution to the war. i want the mindless hatred everywhere to stop. i want to be able to scroll through social media and see nothing but fandom. i want to walk through campus with my magen david showing and all the friends i lost by my side on the way to the hillel seder. i want to open my curtains again. i know the experience of one diaspora jew is nothing compared to what people living in israel and palestine are currently going through, yet i still need this all to end. i don’t think any of us can go on like this, but we must, because we have. for thousands of years, we’ve gone on. that still doesn’t mean it has to be this hard all the time.
all i can think is “now we are slaves. next year may we be free.” now we are slaves to hatred and violence and suffering. next year may we all be free. next year may we all be in jerusalem.
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the-awful-falafel · 11 days
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How liquid/goopy do you think Fake Peppino is?
Oh boy, Fake Peppino biology headcanons!
So, I lean more towards "something that tries to be solid, but can choose to / be forced into becoming more liquid-like, and is somewhat inconsistent throughout" for my interpretation, personally.
It's absolutely clear from in-game that Fake Peppino is goopy on some level, but I don't imagine that he's made up of a literal liquid. I think his body is more like an amalgamation of this vaguely dough-like, vaguely flesh-like gooey organic mass that is trying its hardest to be Peppino-shaped, "clothes" and all, even if it's just a distorted facsimile. I don't think his mass is completely stable in the way a full flesh-and-blood creature is (or hell, even as stable as most pizza monsters are with their presumably semi-magical biology), so his body still drips and shifts around, but it's got a high viscosity to it under normal circumstances, meaning that his body structure remains relatively cohesive when he's at rest or moving around casually.
That being said, I also imagine goop from his body can slough off forcefully if he moves extremely quickly / suddenly, like if he deforms or contorts too rapidly, or if he collides against something with sufficient force (see: the gooey spattering particle effects in his boss fight). Although, punching and kicking him sure felt like hitting something alive and semi-solid, from Peppino's perspective at least, so whether sheer force makes Fake Peppino solidify or liquefy is somewhat inconsistent and probably depends on the context. (When he's dazed or vulnerable I think he probably has a lot harder time holding himself together, at least.)
I figure you can't push your hand through him or anything (... unless he allows it). It'll probably feel more like pressing against greasy/slimy skin that's a little too squishy, with something subtly writhing beneath the surface. Although if you shook hands with him there would definitely be a firmness to it, maybe briefly fooling you into thinking he actually has bones.
His mass has shapeshifting properties, which allows him to quickly and easily shift into a near-liquid form whenever it's convenient for him, like when he wants to slip through tight narrow spaces, escape into cracks into the floor, or get past barriers or grates. (He also involuntarily slimes himself when he's feeling extremely stressed out, sometimes, but that's more uncommon.) In this state his mass is more like a thick semi-liquid living substance that only sticks to things it chooses to stick to, like some sort of giant gooey amoeba.
I don't think the solidity of his body is always uniform throughout, though. The inside of his body tends to be... looser, for a lack of a better word, and can profusely ooze liquid-like goop if a part of his body is removed or opened up that isn't really "meant" to be removed-- although it'll settle down and solidify into a more viscous state in a minute or two. His hat is a good example of this, based on his boss health icon.
Regardless of whether it's current behaving like a liquid or solid, all of his mass is alive, has something resembling a cellular structure, and all of it is Fake Peppino. Hope this helps!
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good-beanswrites · 3 months
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My thoughts on how the Milgram mv machine works based on the evidence we have:
(I know there’s been discussion about where exactly the interrogations take place, but wherever they are,) the prisoners are made to sit in a specific chair near the wall that houses the machine.
It’s ordinarily hidden, but the wall panels shift aside to reveal it when the mechanical sounds play in the dramas. As well as the walls moving, the chair transforms to restrain the prisoner and attach whatever it takes to access their brain. The fact that none of the more frightened prisoners try to run or break it makes it seem like they physically cannot. This is why Fuuta sounds so panicked, and why Amane is suddenly helpless in front of Es in their T1 vds.
(My mind conjures very classic sci-fi mad scientist machines with wires, pipes, lights, nodes, needles, etc, but I’d love to hear how other people visualize it.)
In some vds (maybe all? I’d need to check,) you can hear Es take some steps right before their iconic line -- it would make sense that for safety reasons, the power mechanism is placed across the room. Once again it could be anything, but the sound effect makes me think of one of those giant wall-mounted levers you have to pull down.
The voice dramas don’t really provide the type of crime details that an actual interrogation would reveal, and it’s odd that they’re placed before the extraction rather than after Es gets to see the new details. This leads me to believe the machine functions with priming. All Es needs to do is get them talking about their murder, so it’s on their mind.
The video produced is much like a (non-lucid) dream. Even if the prisoners figure out that this is how it works, they can’t control it just by thinking really hard about something else. The murders produce the strongest emotional affect, and that’s what it picks up on. If someone else used the machine, it would default to whatever gave them the strongest emotional reaction in the ~15 minutes beforehand, hence why Es’ video focuses on their daunting task ahead. (The Undercover theory is still a bit loose, though, given the private shots that Es wouldn't have known about). It’s why the videos are usually closely linked to the vd topics/beats. I also like to think that the reason their prisoner colors appear so much is because they’re looking at those colors on their uniform 24/7.
The bell rings to inform Es that it’s the optimal time to use the machine -- the prisoner has been thinking about things for long enough that the video will be about their crime, and if the conversation lasts much longer they’ll start thinking of other things. It’s at a different time for each prisoner because it’s based on the specific conversation. I guess Jackalope is listening in to the interrogation, timing it perfectly. (The only one that kind of messes with this theory is Yonah, because they just keep talking afterwards lol, but it could just show that the interrogation is still in Es’ control.)
Their “Sing your sins” is the final priming nudge to get them to think of their actions as a sin, revealing their guilt.
Once activated, the prisoner enters a sort of trance/sleeping state. It’s very much like REM sleep, with the machine forcibly activating neurons and recording the output. The prisoners have asked Es what they saw, meaning they don’t remember the mvs. I like to think the prisoners do experience the mv in real time, acting as the major version of themself that appears, but can’t remember it afterwards. It’s when you experience a dream, but as soon as you wake up you’re just left with fleeting emotions and memories right on the tip of your tongue.
The video plays immediately upon extraction -- whether on a huge projection or little screen depends on which room it’s in. It simultaneously saves the memory so that Es can rewatch it later (on those old TVs in the jailbreak mix). The machine downloads the song and video together, but requires special parts to retrieve them. The technology is pretty new and fragile, so if one is broken, there might be a delay between when Es can hear the extracted song and see it with the video. (That’s my justification for Kotoko’s delays -- after 9 prisoners the parts wear out, or maybe Mikoto himself overheats it with his complex situation.)
Based on the lack of conversation we get afterwards, I picture Es leaving before the prisoner wakes from the trance. The machine adjusts their brain back to normal before they awaken, restraints freed and able to return to the rest of the prison.
It’s very much like a dream, so it’s not harmful despite the amnesia/head injuries the prisoners have. It does, however, exhaust them. Brain activity alone takes a lot of energy, so forced brain activity with added emotional strain would cause them to feel pretty drained the rest of the day.
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