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poop-diddy-scoop · 28 days

Note

90’s bowie (was thinking maybe hours era?) asks you to pose nude for a painting. he is, of course, a gentleman, but things escalate a bit after a wine and cigarette break

david bowie x reader - chiaroscuro

a/n: i actually love y'all you are all my elite employees

The dimly lit studio was a haven of creativity, with paint-splattered canvases leaning against the walls and the faint smell of turpentine lingering in the air. David Bowie stood before an easel, his piercing gaze focused intently on the half-finished painting in front of him. His fingers, adorned with rings that caught the light in mesmerizing patterns, delicately swirled a brush loaded with vibrant hues of blue and crimson.

You, on the other hand, reclined on a plush chaise longue, draped in a silken robe that clung to your curves like a lover's caress. Your presence exuded an air of confidence, a testament to years spent in front of the lens and the brush alike. Modeling was your craft, your livelihood, and you wore it with the ease of someone who had mastered their art.

David glanced over his shoulder, his mismatched eyes alight with a spark of anticipation as they met yours. "I hope you don't mind me saying, darling, but you have the most exquisite form. It's positively begging to be immortalized on canvas."

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you arched an eyebrow. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Bowie. But I must admit, I'm not entirely surprised by your request. After all, it's not every day that a rock icon asks you to disrobe for a painting."

He chuckled, a melodic sound that seemed to dance through the air like a forgotten melody. "I assure you, it's purely professional. I'm working on a new series, exploring the juxtaposition of beauty and vulnerability. And who better to embody that dichotomy than you?"

You feigned a thoughtful expression, tapping a finger against your chin in mock contemplation. "Well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse? Consider me your muse, Mr. Bowie."

With a flourish, you shed the robe, allowing it to pool at your feet in a cascade of silk. David's eyes widened imperceptibly at the sight before him, his lips parting in silent awe. But there was a reverence in his gaze, a respect for the human form that transcended mere physicality.

As you settled into your pose, limbs arranged in a graceful tableau of curves and angles, David set to work with a quiet intensity. The rhythmic scrape of the brush against canvas filled the room, punctuated by the occasional murmur of approval or dissatisfaction from the artist.

Hours slipped by in a haze of creative fervor, each stroke of the brush imbuing the painting with a sense of life and vitality. And through it all, you remained the steadfast muse, unyielding in your commitment to the artistry unfolding before you.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows lengthened, David called for a pause, setting aside his brushes with a weary sigh. "I think we've made excellent progress today, don't you?"

You nodded in agreement, stretching languidly as you rose from the chaise longue. "Absolutely. I can't wait to see the finished piece. Though I must admit, I could use a break. Care to join me for a glass of wine?"

David's eyes brightened at the suggestion, a playful smile gracing his lips. "I thought you'd never ask, darling. Lead the way."

The two of you retreated to a cozy sitting area nestled in the corner of the studio, where a bottle of wine awaited with two crystal glasses glinting in the soft lamplight. David poured with practiced precision, the ruby-red liquid swirling hypnotically in the glass.

As you settled into the cushions, a comfortable silence descended between you, broken only by the occasional clink of glass and the crackle of a cigarette being lit. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with a palpable energy that seemed to thrum beneath the surface.

It was then that David spoke, his voice low and velvety with a hint of mischief. "You know, darling, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you took a sip of wine. "Oh? And what might that be, Mr. Bowie?"

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "Would you be opposed to a more... intimate collaboration?"

A shiver raced down your spine at the suggestion, your heart quickening in your chest. But there was a fire in David's eyes, a hunger that mirrored your own, and you found yourself unable to resist the pull of his magnetic presence.

With a coy smile, you set down your glass, reaching out to trace the contours of his face with trembling fingers. "I think that can be arranged, Mr. Bowie. After all, art knows no boundaries, does it?"

As David suggested returning to the painting, you obliged, slipping back into your pose with practiced ease. The atmosphere shifted slightly, the air tinged with a hint of anticipation as David's gaze lingered on you, his thoughts undoubtedly lingering on the momentary diversion you had shared.

With a gentle clearing of his throat, David redirected his focus to the canvas, his movements fluid as he resumed his work. But the tension lingered, a palpable undercurrent that pulsed between you, threatening to ignite once more with the slightest spark.

Hours slipped by in a blur of artistic fervor, the brushstrokes flowing effortlessly from David's hand as he brought the painting to life before your eyes. And as the final touches were added, a sense of satisfaction settled over the studio, a tangible reminder of the creative synergy you shared.

With a comical hurrah, David set his brushes aside, stepping back to admire his handiwork with a satisfied grin. "I think I'll call this one Chiaroscuro," he declared, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his mismatched eyes.

You laughed in agreement, the sound ringing out like a symphony in the dimly lit studio. With a playful swish of your robe, you made your way over to David's side, admiring the painting with a critical eye.

"It's brilliant," you remarked, tracing a finger along the contours of the canvas. "You've truly captured the essence of light and shadow."

David beamed at the praise, a flush of pride coloring his cheeks as he turned to face you. "Thank you, darling. But I must admit, you were the true inspiration behind it all."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his words. "Well, it takes two to tango, doesn't it? And you, Mr. Bowie, are an excellent dance partner."

As you settled back onto the cushions, David joined you, the warmth of his presence a comforting anchor in the sea of creativity that surrounded you. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you found yourselves lost in conversation, the words flowing effortlessly between you.

At length, you found yourself unable to resist the urge to compliment him profusely, your words tumbling out in a torrent of admiration. "You're incredibly attractive, David. From the wisdom in your eyes to the deft touch of your hands, there's something undeniably alluring about you."

David's cheeks flushed pink at the praise, his gaze dropping bashfully to his lap. "Oh, stop it, you're making me blush," he chuckled, a hint of self-consciousness coloring his words.

But you pressed on, determined to express the depth of your admiration. "And your hair," you continued, reaching out to tuck a stray lock behind his ear. "It's positively iconic. I've always been a sucker for a man with long hair."

A playful smile tugged at the corners of David's lips as he leaned into your touch, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I must admit, it's taken on a life of its own over the years. But I'm rather fond of it, if I do say so myself."

The air crackled with tension as the words hung between you, a silent invitation lingering in the space between heartbeats.

David's hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise, "I feel like a sleazy old man next to you” he starts with a laugh, “but you're very attractive there's no denying that, love".

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at David's self-deprecating remark, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you leaned closer to him. "Oh, come now, David. You're hardly sleazy. And besides, a little bit of flattery never hurt anyone."

David's cheeks flushed pink at your words, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours once more. "I suppose you're right," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's impossible to deny the truth, isn't it? You're undeniably attractive."

You nodded along with a teasing smile, your fingers trailing lightly along his thigh as you moved closer to him. The heat of his skin seared through the fabric of his trousers, sending a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine.

"Yeah?" you prompted, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper.

David's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes darkening with desire as he met your gaze. "Hm?" he replied, his voice husky with longing. "Oh, really."

A charged silence hung between you, thick with unspoken desire as the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

"I've always been drawn to your eyes," David confessed, his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of the studio. "There's something about them that's utterly captivating."

You smiled, a soft blush blooming across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "Is that so?" you replied, your tone playful yet tinged with vulnerability.

David nodded, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the back of your hand. "Absolutely," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "They're like windows to your soul, drawing me in with their depth and intensity."

As the robe fell open, pooling at your feet, David's eyes widened in awe at the sight before him. His breath caught in his throat as you moved closer, your hands deftly undoing his belt with a confidence that sent a shiver of anticipation racing down his spine.

He watched in rapt fascination as you stroked him into hardness, his breath coming in shallow gasps as desire surged through him. And when you straddled him, sinking down onto his length with a slow, deliberate motion, a guttural moan escaped his lips, raw with need.

"God, you're so tight and warm—" David began, his words cut off by a sharp intake of breath as you clenched around him, your walls pulsing with a rhythm that threatened to drive him to the brink of madness.

You smiled at the reaction, a knowing glint in your eyes as you began to move, your hips rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm that set his blood on fire. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, building to an exquisite crescendo that threatened to consume him whole.

David's hands found purchase on your hips, his grip tight with need as he urged you on with a wordless plea. His eyes were dark with desire, pupils blown wide with a hunger that mirrored your own.

"More," he pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper against the backdrop of the studio. "Please, love, more."

You complied with his request, increasing the pace of your movements as you rode him with a fervor that bordered on desperation. And with each thrust, David's moans grew louder, echoing off the walls of the studio in a symphony of pleasure.

"Ah, yes," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that, darling. Don't stop."

As the intensity of your lovemaking reached its peak, a primal urgency washed over you both, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each thrust and each gasp, the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a symphony of passion.

And then, with a shared cry of release, you came together, your bodies trembling in the throes of pleasure as waves of bliss washed over you. David's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered words of love and adoration.

"Oh, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You're incredible, yes you are."

You clung to him, your heart overflowing with emotion as you basked in the afterglow of your shared passion. His touch was gentle and comforting, his hands tracing soothing patterns along your back as he pressed kisses to your shoulder in a tender display of affection.

"You make me feel so alive," he whispered, his words a vow of devotion as he held you close. "As if I were freshly 30 again."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love as you returned his embrace, savouring the closeness you shared. "Touche," you replied, your voice soft with exhaustion.

"I could stay like this for a while, no?."

#david bowie smut #david bowie x reader #david bowie fanfic #david bowie 90s

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dailycharacteroption · 1 month

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Hybrid Class Review: Investigator part 3

(art by LaminIllustration on DeviantArt)

Archetypes

The investigator boasts an interesting set of archetypes, so let’s dive right in! I tend to divide these archetypes into four categories.

Perhaps the first group I’d like to go over are those investigators that are still expressly detectives while dropping the alchemy in favor of other specializations. Perhaps none is more iconic here than the sleuth, which feels like it was made specifically to be a non-specialized detective that drops alchemy entirely in favor of having a pool of luck to help them through the day. Meanwhile, the Jinyiwe focuses on divine mandate and gains spells from such a source, while the Psychic Detective instead uses psychic magic and their sensitivity to gain clues and insights as well as defend themselves. Scavengers also exist which use quasi-magical gadgets instead of alchemical potions, and the Questioner augments their interviews with bardic magic. Additionally, Spiritualists (the archetype, not the class) channel the spirits of the dead to gain answers, while Malice Binders turn witchcraft lore against the wicked.

Of course, some investigators keep the alchemy while still having their own specializations as detectives. Bonded Investigators make use of a familiar ally, for example, while Steel Hounds are never without their trusty firearms. Ciphers investigate by being supernaturally unnoticeable by those that would stop them, while Cult Hunters and Infiltrators both finds ways to find and put a stop to secret societies and insular groups. Others specialize in gleaning secrets from the dead, such as Gravediggers and Dread Investigators, though their methods differ. Empiricists use unfailing logic to defeat deception and trickery, while Profilers use psychological profiles to determine suspects. Forensic Physicians are trained to glean secrets from the dead in a more mundane manner, while Skeptics use their keen senses and knowledge of parlor tricks to reveal fake hauntings and deal with the real ones. Meanwhile, Guardians of Immortaility, Lepidstadt Inspectors, and Ruthless Agents are known for their dogged pursuit of their goals. Finally, Hallucinists use mind-altering substances to reveal the truth, while Lamplighters reveal with alchemical light sources.

Of course, there are some so-called “investigators” that actually deserve investigation of their own, notably the Conspirators, who hide their activities and deceive others, and the Masterminds, master manipulators that can coach their allies on plans in advance.

While plenty of investigator characters may not actually be professional detectives, some of these archetypes are expressly not that while still using their brilliant intellect. Some are scholars and archaeological collectors, such as Antiquarians, while others study mysterious beasts like Cryptid Scholars. Meanwhile, Cartographers and Star Watcher, who study their charts for very different effects, are also a possibility. Engineers create inspired devices, while Holomog Demolitionists destroy with shocking precision and cunning. Utterly ignored but shockingly competent is the Majordomo, who serves dutifully and organizes those under them to great effect, while Tekritanin Arbiters put their brilliant minds to resolving conflict. Natural Philosophers meanwhile study nature directly, while Portal Seekers study the realms beyond the natural. Finally, Reckless Epicureans test their experimental formulae on themselves, while Toxin Codexers specialize in understanding poisons even beyond the standard investigator’s knowledge.

As you can see, these archetypes come in all shapes and sizes, but all in the end fall back on the core theme of the investigator, which is finding the truth. That truth may be the mysteries of a crime or misdeed, or they may be more esoteric such as scientific advancement, occult mysteries, and beyond.

That does it for today, but tomorrow I’ll share some thoughts on the class as a whole.

#pathfinder #hybrid class #review #investigator #archetype

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dragynkeep · 9 months

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Oscar's Volume 6-onward design has echoes of one of the iconic, later designs of The Little Prince, which I believe is what people often brought up in comparisons when arguing for his allusion before, but it's not the one most are familiar with (the all-green with a yellow scarf).

I also think there's some interesting parallels to be found between Oscar's story (what little of one there's been) thus far, and the six planets The Little Prince has visited before Earth in the story. I could see the drunkard being Qrow, and the businessman or the lamplighter being James.

That being said, as with a lot in RWBY, they could have done so much more with it.

honestly the "they could've done so much more with it" is pretty much there for all of the rwby allusions because they're so bare bones, they really don't matter at the end of the day.

however, it's weird that they choose to evoke an outfit of the little prince when oscar is less of who he is: having begun the merge with ozpin into whatever they will become as time goes on. would it not have made more sense for oscar to have this type of outfit when we first meet him & then have his style transition into mirroring ozpin's as they begin the merge?

having oscar be defined by orange & green, with the green keeping him in line as an oz host & not really his own individuality, instead of yellow & green just further muddles it.

if this was something that was "planned from the beginning" of oscar's conception, then they really didn't get it across very well unfortunately & this seems to be a consistent issue in these characters.

i would love for there to be some easter eggs between them, hopefully some aus or fan rewrites can give oscar a better treatment than the canon has lmao

#rwby #rwde #oscar pine #ais.txt #answered #q

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signalhill-if · 1 year

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Hey folks! It's just about time to start thinking about art.

I've tried to sit down several times and work out a style for Signal Hill, and it's just never looked right. Eventually I concluded that if I wanted art that looked right, I'd need to hire somebody else to do it for me.

So I'll be commissioning paintings of the characters from a very talented artist, @/wuntrum (not tagging because I am shy <3), whose are you can peruse here. Not only are they talented, they also have a comic called Signals, so it's like the universe is trying to tell me something haha. This is going to be over a pretty big time span because obviously it's quite expensive and it takes time to make art, but expect to be seeing the first piece in the next few months.

However, I still have some time to decide who is going to be the first up! I don't want to decide entirely on my own, so I'm going to make it a poll.

I'm also narrowing the options down to just characters we've met in the actual game so far. All of their portraits will be based on their in-game introductions. I'm going to give you a description of what I'm thinking for each one, the pros and cons, and I'll let y'all have the final say (or maybe like... the second-to-last say. If it's close enough I might pick). Without further ado...

Doc

I'm hoping to eventually have two versions of Doc, one with and one without the plague doctor outfit. The one you'd be getting first, though, would be with. It would be a full body painting of him standing against an abstract desert landscape, something that could function as both standalone art and have the title placed on the right. This one is probably also going to be the most expensive? Unsure, I won't know until I run the concept by the artist. Also it might be a little sad if the first piece I get is one where the character's face isn't even visible lmao.

Yasmin

This is the image that's been caught in my head for MONTHS, actually since super early in the game's development, haha. Yasmin reclining in a couch covered in pillows and draped with translucent fabric, possibly holding her pipe or possibly with arm outstretched to the viewer. Gah. I want to see it soooooo bad. But also maybe it would be good to leave this off until later, so we've got the vibe down a little better before getting started on this one?

Yvette

Yvette's intro is similarly iconic, seen from a low angle in a fancy robe perched on the fancy staircase. I've got a very good idea of what this one would look like since I've tried to draw it several times before, so that would be good re: references. It'll also be less expensive than the others, since I don't want this one to be a full body shot. So that's a big plus.

The big downside with KC is that I'm not 100% sure which concept to go with- I could do her at the beginning of Lamplighters, in her windbreaker, with her feet kicked up on the table, smoking. Or I could do something inspired by Test Run. For that reason, it's probably best to leave her until Test Run comes out, but I'll throw her in in case y'all really want to see her intro scene lol.

Levi

Levi is similar in that I'm not 100% sure about the concept. It would certainly be him with the knife in Tracking Number, half body, but I'm not sure what angle or mood to go with, so I'd probably be leaving it somewhat up to the artist to decide. Might be better to leave him until later, but again, I'll include him in case y'all really want to see him.

#i have a feeling which one is gonna win but pleeeeeaaaaase consider the actual composition not just the character!!!#if you pick doc we still aren't going to get to see his face in a proper portrait for a long time lol #we've gotten some interesting results before in polls so i'm actually not sure what's gonna win out here!#we'll see #also this poll is gonna be open for a week but let's be honest. we'll know in a day lol #update #poll

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chthonicy · 5 months

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The Lamplighter by Crystal J. Bell

In "The Lamplighter", a Young Adult Horror & Mystery written by Crystal J. Bell, we follow the story of Temperance, a young woman trying to solve the kidnapping of two girls in her eerie hometown, while trying to provide for her young sister and mother by being the town's only lamplighter. The story shows how she tries to battle hardships, loss, love and misogyny, while discovering unsettling truths about the town's famous figureheads that attracts sailors all over the world.

Crystal J. Bell wrote this story so well that Tempe's loss and spiraling became my own. I devoured this book 2 days in a row, while even at work, because I was so captivated by it. The details of the town were so beautifully described, and Tempe's persona resonated so much with mine. She is an icon for all women, the way she put her family and work over everything else, even though no one supported her simply for being a woman.

The fantasy elements of the book left me speechless. Not going to lie, I was expecting more of it, but in the end they completed the book in a good way. It left me craving for more, not believing what I was reading. But, as a stand-alone is more than enough. Crystal J. Bell gives all the details that were needed for a beautiful epilogue.

All in all, I love this book, rating it 5 stars, and I recommend it from the bottom of my heart. Temperance has a place on my hall of fame heroines.

#the lamplighter #crystal j bell #goodreads #mystery #thriller #young adult #fantasy #review #booktok #book #eerie #temperance #tempe #gideon #prudence #figurehead

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lab-rat-girls · 6 months

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Hey this is an alternative blog for @gmanwhore to irl post! I might like. Put canon calls on here occasionally but it will mostly be me talking about my memories. My irl list is below, shifts happen randomly. Especially important ones will be green.

Oh yeah as a whole you can call us the Rainbow Collective. The lovers, the dreamers, and me if you will.

Icon by me!!!!!!

Half Life/Portal/HLVRAI:

G’: he thinks he’d blow our minds; g’ (starman by david bowie)

Ga-men: imaginary line imaginary minds; ga-men (labrynth by miracle musical)

Evil G-man: and by your judgement of my merit I’ll iherit nothing; e.g. (inherit nothing by phemiec)

Dr. Colette Green call me for your lover’s alibi; colette (call me by blondie)

Dr. Wallace Breen: how many milligrams of you are still left in there?; breen (marsha, thank you for the dialects but I need you to leave now by will wood)

Caroline: the devil likes to make my heart a double bed; caroline (Hermit The Frog by MARINA)

Barney Calhoun: kneeling in the stained glass tomb; barney (your body, my temple by will wood)

Gordon Freeman: you don't know me I am the only son; freeman (Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford and Sons)

Russel; we wrote some songs by the lamplight's gas!; russel (Ragtime Punk by Abney Park)

Cave Johnson: and I love me; cave (kiss me, son of god by they might be giants)

Gordon Feetman: read me my rights please!; feetman (6up 5oh cop out (pro/con) by will wood)

Bubby: come and go out my mind; bubby (2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye!) by will wood)

Danganronpa:

Kiyondo Ishida: you’ve gotta wanna break the hearts of all those pretty porcelain dolls; kiyondo (wrecking ball by mother mother)

Kiyotaka Ishimaru: don't you make me waste my breath!; taka (Marsha, Thankk You For the Dialects but I Need You To Leave Now by Will Wood)

Makoto Naegi: i’ll find strength in pain; makoto (the cave by mumford and sons)

Celestia Ludenburg: her kiss will bring you to your knees; celeste (vampire by the orion experience)

Hiyoko Saionji: when I rule the world; hiyoko (when I rule the world by liz)

Homestuck:

Karkat Vantas: my name was soiled by a last call spill; karkat (hand me my shovel, I’m going in by will wood)

Rose Lalonde: I’m afraid I can’t prescribe the diagnoses you seek; rose (marsha, thank you for the dialects but I need you to leave now by will wood)

Roxy Lalonde: you’re telling me I’m holding up eleven fingers?; roxy (...well, better than the alternative by will wood)

Jake English: I might rap like an english chap; jake (Welcome to Tally Hall by Tally Hall)

John/June Egbert: like action movie hero boy (Action Movie Hero Boy by Lemon Demon)

Aradia Medigo: and as your gasping for the last of air you'll tra la la la la; aradia

Equius Zahhak: the ship doesn't swerve as it heard how big the iceberg is; equius (Surface Pressure from Encanto)

Mituna Captor: I don't care what we do I wanna get all dolled up with you!; mituna (All Dolled Up by The Orion Experience)

Doc Scratch: you understand mechanical hands are the rulers of everything; doc scratch (Ruler of Everything by Tally Hall)

I ♡ Amy:

Amy Lee: all those pretty words you say to me pick me up whenever I’m feeling down; amy (queen of white lies by the orion experience)

The Walten Files:

Felix Walten: murders of murderers living in fear of it; felix (murders by miracle musical)

Boozoo

Bon

The Owl House:

Luz Noceda: i wanna live better days; luz (could have been me by the struts)

The Collector: I can run faster with no wind resistance!; the collector (no wind resistance! by kinneret)

Popee The Performer:

Papi: I can’t ignore what’s under dance floorboards; papi (2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye!) by will wood)

Popee: so squeal like a troll or cry like a baby with autism strapped to a celling fan!; popee (thermodynamic lawyer esq. Gfd by will wood)

The Amazing Digital Circus:

Pomni: please please what the hell is going on; pomni (help me by or3o)

Caine: nothing matters anymore; caine (a chattering lack of common sense by GHOST)

Fionna and Cake:

Fionna Campbell: there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword; fionna (soldier, poet, king by the oh hellos)

The Scarab: never came down from her last trip on jesus; scarab the god auditor (thermodynamic laywer ESQ. GFD by will wood)

Candy Queen: feels so neat never wanna be myself again; candy queen (sweet by phemiec)

Slugterra:

Pronto Geronimole: so spread the word across the land; pronto (the cult of dionysus by the orion experience)

A Series of Unfortunate Events:

Lemony Snicket: when all hell breaks loose like all hells always do; lemony (your body, my temple by will wood)

Team Fortress 2 (note for these two it is just the classes, not the characters):

PNK Pyro: you must detroy beyond all recognition; pyro/sparky (burn him down by kitsch club)

PNK Medic: my heart is in my hand...eugh; medic/doll (the masochism tango by tom lehrir)

Miss Pauling: left foot over the right; miss pauling

PNK Spy: the roar of whispers in every crowd; charlotte/spy

PNK Soldier: you gotta wanna be a battering ram!; Sam/soldier

Saxton Hale: SAXTON HAAALE

Red Scout: I was born with the brains and the brawn!; scout

Grey Mann: the world screams kiss me some of God!; grey mann

Doctor Who:

Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge Stewart: the crew stayed at their posts and the captain at his wheel; brigadier (the wrath of fate by abney park)

Ace: hello world I’m your wild girl; ace (cherry bomb by the runaways)

Adric: (tag pending lol)

B.O.S.S: Colonal Walter was shocked when he heard from the Nile; B.O.S.S.

Undertale/Deltarune:

Susie: my dreams are getting so strange I could tell you everything I see; susie (ballroom blitz by sweet)

Gaster: there was only one of you until you split the world in two; gaster (dr. gaster by shadrow)

Flowey: your best friend; flowey (yeah just his theme)

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared:

Yellow Guy: I say “pardon me I’m dancing for no reason!”; yellow guy (make believe by steam powered giraffe)

Lesley: No matter how we twist and turn, we're still dancing in chains; lesley (her little song. yeah)

Five Nights at Freddy's:

The Marionette: you had a heart you hadn't felt; puppet

Sundrop: I'm walking on sunshine!; sundrop

Micheal Afton: look at this loser drinking coffee; micheal (it’s gonna get weird from gravity falls)

Circus Baby: try your best to hold onto to sanity; circus baby (join us for bite by jt music)

Ballora: to dance to spin to fly away; ballora (her song. lol)

Bendy and the Ink Machine:

Sammy Lawrence: i try to play Caruso but the needle skips the groove; sammy (The Haunted Phonograph by Thoushaltnot)

Bertrum Piedmont: don't you know you have to be this tall to die; bertrum (Art of Darkness by The Stupendium)

Daniel "Buddy" Lewick: dreams do come true; buddy

Henry Stein: he will set us free; henry

The Ink Demon: I can't believe you used to truly scare me; the ink demon

Hatchetfield Trilogy

Professor Henry Hidgens: spotlight on mr. ingenuie; professor hidgens (Show Stoppin Numder from TGWDLM)

Webby: harlequin dolls he'd be lost without her; webby (concertina ballerina by alternative radio)

General John McNamara: it is the monsters who should live in dread; john mcnamara (monsters and men from black friday)

Ruth Fleming: should I let the coals burn out; ruth fleming (just for once from nerdy prudes must die)

Ride the Cyclone

Wiggog Y'rath: whatever we want we get!; wiggly (the summoning from nerdy prudes must die)

Paul Matthews: I DON'T LIKE MUSICALS; paul

The Amazing Karnak: the sun is rising as it is descending; karnak (karnak’s dream of life from ride the cyclone)

Noel Gruber: I sing songs until the break of dawn; noel (noel’s lament from ride the cyclone)

Doki Doki Literature Club

Natsuki: let’s make something to adore; natsuki (cupcake circulation by strawberrysana)

Fran Bow

Itward: hear my voice; itward (be born by tally hall)

Helltaker

Beelzebub: honey do you have a hot meal?; beelzebub (your body, my temple by will wood)

Hazbin Hotel:

Nifty: stitch sew cut pull; nifty (housewife radio by GHOST)

Lucifer: devil's in the house of the rising sun; lucifer (the devil went down to georgia)

Emily: now I know what's real what's fake; emily (rather sleep by Kero Kero Bonito)

Charlie: I can't fear you now!; charlie

Lackadaisy:

Rocky: golly what a day!; rocky (oo-de-lally from robin hood)

Freckles/Calvin: uhhh still gotta think up a tag

Chainsaw Man:

Denji: I wanna fuck shit up!;denji

Subway Surfers:

Frank: he'll get by without his rabbit pie; frank

Poppy Playtime:

The Prototype: it seems she broke me but I swear she can go fucking die; prototype

Elliot Ludwig: in a world of pure imagination; elliot ludwig

Poppy: let's sing it again!; poppy

Dogday: I'd like to know why you are all alone while I am lost at sea; dogday

You're Not My Neighbour:

Scarlet Milkman: and I'm starving!; francis

Francis Mosses: been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to go; milkman

Miscellaneous:

Nacha Mikaelys: times square doesn't shine as bright as you; nacha

Mclooy Rudboys: we're the terror of the skies and a danger to ourselves; mclooy

Izaak Guass: you're a toymaker's creation trapped inside a crystal ball!; izaak

The Sun (The Embodiment of Selfish Destruction)

Deity (The Embodiment of Decadence and Lust)

Homestuck AU Caroline: your eyes are dead like outer space; caroline

Wavesprite: shutup you're stupid; wavesprite

Homestuck AU Colette: call me fighter!; hs colette

Sunshine: I am not the sunshine I am not the moon at night; sunshine

Cabinet Man: I won't hurt you unless you cheat; cabinet man

Bones: your baby teeth would pray for you; bones/tommy

Terezi Vantas: they will tear your city down; t vantas

Karkat Medigo: it's the fate of the stars; k. medigo

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tuppencetrinkets · 2 years

Text

Sorted screencaps from The Boys, S1-3. Found HERE.

A-Train / Jessie T. Usher #16,800

Actress (Stormfront) - Charlize Theron #500

Adam Bourke - P.J. Byrne #1,370

Alastair Adana - Goran Visnjic #1,800

Also Ashley - Sabrina Saudin #900

Anika - Ana Sani #1,300

Annie January / Starlighter - Erin Moriarty #78,000

Ashley Barrett - Colby Minifie #14,700

Becca Butcher - Shantel Van Santen #7,800

Billy Butcher - Karl Urban #64,800

Black Noir - Nathan Mitchell #183

Blue Hawk - Nick Wechsler #1,600

Cameron Coleman - Matthew Edison #1,300

Carol Manning - Jessica Hecht #915

Cassandra - Katy Breier #3,500

Cherie - Jordana Lajoie #1,000

Connie Butcher - Lesley Nicol #248

Crimson Countess - Laurie Holden #1,700

Donna January - Ann Cusack #3,200

Eagle the Archer - Langston Kerman #1,400

Elena - Nicola Coccia-Damude #2,900

Ezekiel - Shaun Benson #1,000

Frenchie - Tomer Capone #30,000

Gecko - David W. Thompson #357

Grace Mallory - Laila Robins #7,500

Gunpowder - Sean Patrick Flanery / Joel Gagne #950

Homelander - Antony Starr #80,000

Hugh Campbell - Simon Pegg #1,300

Hughie Campbell - Jack Quaid #82,800

Janine - Liyou Abere / Nalini Ingrita #1,300

Jonah Vogelbaum - John Doman #1,500

Judy Atkinson - Barbara Gordon #400

Kenji Miyashiro / Mouse - Abraham Lim #1,800

Kevin Moskowitz / The Deep - Chace Crawford #22,174

Kimiko Miyashiro - Karen Fukuhara #20,000

Lamplighter - Shawn Ashmore #4,300

Lenny Butcher - Jack Fulton #800

Little Nina - Katia Winter #2,200

Madelyn Stillwell - Elisabeth Shue #12,400

Maggie Shaw / Maeve - Dominique McElligott #23,600

Mesmer - Haley Joel Osment / Aram Avakian #3,700

Mindstorm - Ryan Blakely #411

Monique - Frances Turner / Alvina August #1,500

Mother’s Milk - Laz Alonso #25,000

Nathan - Christian Keyes #2,500

Popclaw - Brittany Allen #3,300

Robert Singer - Jim Beaver #1,800

Robin - Jess Salgueiro #800

Ryan - Cameron Crovetti #8,000

Sam Butcher - John Noble #500

Soldier Boy - Jensen Ackles #8,900

Stan Edgar - Giancarlo Esposito #6,400

Stormfront - Aya Cash #15,400

Supersonic - Miles Gaston Villanueva #3,400

Susan Raynor - Jennifer Esposito #2,900

Tessa (TNT) - Kristin Booth #600

The Legend - Paul Reiser #1,800

Todd - Matthew Gorman #1,200

Tommy (TNT) - Jack Doolan #600

Translucent - Alex Hassell #800

Victoria Neuman - Claudia Doumit #7,500

Young Butcher - Luca Villacis / Josh Zaharia #300

Young Lenny - Bruno Rudolf #800

Young Mallory - Sarah Swire #1,600

Young Nadia - Elisa Paszt #200

Young Sam Butcher - Brendan Murray #150

Young Stan Edgar - Justin Davis #800

Young Starlight - Maya Misaljevic #500

This content is free for anyone to use or edit however you like; if you care to throw a dollar or two my way for time, effort, storage fees etc you are more than welcome to do so via my PAYPAL. Please like or reblog this post if you have found it useful or are downloading the content within. If you have any questions or you have any problems with the links or find any inconsistencies in the content, etc. please feel free to drop me a politely worded message via my ASKBOX (second icon from the top on my theme!)

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sturmhondsdemjin · 8 months

Text

Six part two

There’s something about the two of them, the way they ignite at different temperatures, Alex’s frenetic energy and Henry’s aching sureness.

In an instant of sudden, vivid clarity, he can’t believe he ever thought he was straight.

And when Alex looks again, he finds Henry watching him raptly, eyes bright and smiling.

Henry drops his head back on the pillow and groans something that sounds like “fucking eyelashes.”

“Hmm,” Henry hums, the tip of his nose catching on Alex’s. “If I had known this was all it took to shut you up, I’d have done it ages ago.”

With a feat of Herculean strength, he summons up two whole words: “Fuck you.”

Distantly, through a slowly clearing fog, through a messy kiss, Alex can’t help marveling at the knowledge that he’s crossed some kind of Rubicon, here in this room that’s almost as old as the country it’s in, like Washington crossing the Delaware. He laughs into Henry’s mouth, instantly caught up in his own dramatic mental portrait of the two of them painted in oils, young icons of their nations, naked and shining wet in the lamplight. He wishes Henry could see it, wonders if he’d find the image as funny.

“So,” Alex says, changing tracks by stretching languidly, “I guess I should tell you, I’m bisexual.”

“Good to know,” Henry says. His eyes flicker down to Alex’s hip, where it’s bared above the sheet, and he says as much to himself as to Alex, “I am very, very gay.”

Alex watches his small smile, the way it wrinkles the corners of his eyes, and very deliberately does not kiss it.

Part of his brain keeps getting stuck on how strange, and strangely wonderful, it is to see Henry like this, open and bare in every way. Henry leans across the pillow to Alex and presses a soft kiss to his mouth, and Alex feels fingertips brush over his jaw. The touch is so gentle he has to once again remind himself not to care too much.

Henry looks back up at him, his mouth open and incredulous, and he throws his head back and laughs, and it’s only him, the nerdy, neurotic, sweet, insomniac rich guy who constantly sends Alex photos of his dog, and something slots into place. He leans down and kisses him fiercely, and then he’s grinning and gone.

#sturmhond reads #red white and royal blue #history huh? bet we could make some (book)#cornbread knows what i have done (book)

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dujour13 · 1 year

Text

Thanks to the OTP asks I thought it would be fun to go back and write the fateful meeting in the basement of the Defender's Heart instead of just having it as a flashback. Too iconic a moment to gloss over. Best pickup line in the game and he wasn't even romanceable.

The Lark and the Crow on AO3

“Hey Delvan.”

The guard didn’t even look up.

“Hey Delvan, it’s awful damp down here. We’re both gonna catch our death. Whaddya say you chain me up upstairs instead? Save us both gettin’ the chills. I mean, you’ll have to take the chains off my feet so’s I can walk up the stairs, but after that I’ll sit still and let you put ‘em back on me, honest.”

“Shut up, Woljif.”

The tiefling sat quietly for a few moments, his tail swiping back and forth on the mildewy floor of the tavern basement. He sniffled pointedly a couple of times.

“Ooh, I’m startin’ to feel a little light-headed,” he wheedled, crawling into the lamplight. “I’m shiverin’, got hot and cold sweats. Itchy palms. I think I got a fever.”

“Shut up, you damn guttertief!” The guard finally looked his way, but only to shoot daggers. “Can’t you see I’m trying to read?”

“Whatcha readin’?” Woljif asked, scooting as far as the chains would allow. “Got any raunchy bits? Why don’t you read it aloud?”

“Ah Holy Inheritor and the Host of Heaven will you give a man some peace?”

Woljif sat back and sighed. A tiefling just couldn’t get a break in this city. Maybe he wasn’t coming down with fever, but he really was shivering, and his joints ached from trying to sleep on the cold stone floor, and the cuffs on his wrists and ankles were biting into his skin something ferocious. The worst thing, really, was knowing that the light and warmth coming from the stairwell were being denied him, not because of anything he did (honestly, what was breaking into some rich gnome’s shop, other than redistributing wealth to the poor—namely himself?), but because of the accident of his birth, the pair of demonic horns spiraling from his temples.

His yellow eyes darted to Delvan. Them righteous Crusaders, holdin’ it over everybody, when they’re just as petty as the lowest Thiefling, and I got it on authority.

A malicious smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

He coiled, and then with a sudden mental push he leapt forward, chains jangling, and a sinister blue flame shot up around him as a looming shadow sprang forth, reaching its talons towards the guard.

“Surrender thy soul, Delvan!” he roared in his very biggest demon voice.

It was perfect. The guard half-jumped out of his chair, fumbling his book and nearly toppling over backwards. The look on his face was absolutely worth what followed.

He lunged at Woljif, who scrambled back into his dark corner, the grin on his face rapidly fading.

“One more time and I’m gonna kick your teeth in, all the gods damn you!” Delvan yelled.

Woljif flinched. Delvan hadn’t hit him yet, but this wasn’t the first time in his life he’d found himself staring up into a fist.

“Come on, where’s your sense a’ humor?”

Delvan backed down, shaking his head and muttering as he collected his book.

Woljif crouched in the shadows in silence for a while, beginning to lose hope. His wistful gaze went to the cheerful glow at the top of stairwell again, and then, tantalizingly, as if to remind him of his sorry lot, someone up there started singing.

With a simple lute for accompaniment, the singer had a good, rich voice with rough edges that resonated in your breastbone in a way that made you feel funny. Woljif couldn’t make out the words, but the melody was sweet and a little bit sad, swelling with hope, then flowing into bitter regret in each chorus. It was the sound of a distant world Woljif had only ever dreamed of. One day, when he finally came into his fortune, he would hire a bard like this guy, and he would sit on his throne in his palace and just listen. And eat snacks. He became aware his eyes were watering and turned his face away from Delvan. It’s just damp down here, he told himself.

When the song ended he waited, but apparently that was all. “Hey Delvan, is that a new bard up there?”

Delvan marked his place in his book with a finger. “Yeah, it’s this Andoren fellow.”

“Oh, from the Ambassador’s caravan that got attacked? I heard about that. Heard he was the only survivor. How’s that for luck? They send folks to go clean up by now, or is all their stuff still lying around out there on the road? Be a shame if—”

“Woljif, will you shut up.”

A little while later another guard came down the stairs.

“Where in the nine hells have you been?” Delvan cried. “I’ve been down here with this gods-damned spawn of the Abyss for what feels like weeks. I’m at the end of my rope.”

The other guard just shrugged as he pulled up a chair and reached for a deck of cards. “Got caught up in the strategizing. Captain’s planning an attack on the Gray Garrison, try and stop the demons pissing all over the Wardstone.”

“Aha! A little offense is the best defense, I always say,” said Delvan. “State of my nerves, I’ll lead the charge if I get a chance to smash a few horned heads.”

“Yeah, well, a frontal siege with little more than the Eagle Watch and a few stray Crusaders is more likely to get smashed than do the smashing. And we don’t have time to wait for the Queen’s troops from Nerosyan. So you just go right up there and volunteer for the front lines, ‘cause nobody else is real keen.”

“Hey, uh, sounds to me like you Crusaders could use a secret way past the Gray Garrison’s defenses,” interjected Woljif, eagerly moving into the lamplight again.

The two guards spared him nothing but an annoyed glance.

“We’ve got a fighting chance,” Delvan said. “With Irabeth and that—”

“I know a way into the Gray Garrison,” said Woljif.

“—Andoren and his band, we can give ‘em a run for their money, I’ll wager. I don’t see as we have any choice. You know what they were—”

“Hello? The solution to all your troubles is standin’ right here!”

“—saying yesterday? That the demons found a way to corrupt the Wardstones, make ‘em all explode, blow holes in every major city in Men—”

“Don’t make me summon my shadow again,” Woljif warned.

Both of the guards turned on him. “Gods, will you quit running your mouth?”

“It’s true! I know a secret way into the Gray Garrison. Smuggler’s passage. Crusaders gotta live, right? Moonshine, love potions, books with naughty pictures. We’ve been runnin’ stuff through there for years. I can get you in.”

The two guards looked at one another. “So where is it?”

“Well, that’s confidential. Can’t go spillin’ Thiefling secrets right and left or I could end up floatin’ down the Sellen. Tell you what: you unchain me, and I’ll take you right to it.”

Delvan shook his head. “Yeah, right. Another one of your schemes. Shut up, Woljif.”

“Fine! Get your arses bashed in. See if I care. Bunch a’ blowhards. Less sense than a kobold with a concussion.”

“Maybe we should tell Irabeth,” said the other guard.

“Yeah, you do that! Go tell her Woljif can save all your sorry arses, and all I ask in exchange is a little freedom. Is that too much?”

Delvan sighed. “Irabeth is a very busy, and very scary, woman. I wouldn’t waste her time.”

The other guard scratched his head. “You sure he’s lying?”

Delvan looked at Woljif and ran his hand over his brow. “Every other word out of his constantly flapping mouth.”

“Now that ain’t fair,” Woljif protested. “I been straight with you. Most of the time. The thing about the puppy—ok, that was a little fib. Just testin’ the waters.”

“And the chest of gold hidden where only you could find it? Split it fifty-fifty?”

“You’ll never know.”

“And the fever? Feeling chipper all of a sudden?”

Woljif coughed.

The other guard looked skeptical now too.

“Aright, listen, I’m not lyin’ this time, I swear on my old Gran’s dear, sweet head. Anyway if Irabeth is sore at somebody for wastin’ her time, it’ll be me. Just go get her.”

Delvan nudged his companion. “Go on. It was your idea. You tell her.” Then he turned to Woljif with a malevolent grin. “Looks like either way, I win. If you’re not lying, we get a secret passage into the Gray Garrison, and if you are, I get to sit back and enjoy the show when Irabeth realizes you’ve played her.”

“You are a sad, sorry little man, Delvan.” Woljif tried to fold his arms across his chest in triumph, forgetting they were chained.

The other guard shrugged and headed up the stairs.

It took some time. Delvan went back to his book, and Woljif shrank back into the shadows, his heart racing. Finally, escape! Fresh air in my lungs and cobbles under my boots, he thought. And a quick trip back to the shop, and then his foot would be on the road to fortune.

Except that Kenabres was burning. Didn’t seem real safe out there at the moment. Well, one thing at a time, he told himself.

A few minutes later, there were voices on the stairs. Woljif leaned forward to get a look. There was the guard, but he was not bringing Irabeth after all. Instead, Woljif realized, it was the bard.

He was a handsome, tawny-headed half-elf, not very tall for his race, dressed in warm colors (lots of different warm colors, from a soft blue tunic and a wine-colored jerkin to a pair of forest-green trousers and a doe-brown cloak), laughing about something with the guard as they came down the stairs. He had a kind, friendly look to him. Probably a lot easier to run circles around than Irabeth.

Woljif looked him up and down, ignoring the strange sensation the bard’s voice produced in his stomach. If he played it right, this guy was his ticket to freedom.

“Hey dreamboat.”

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #woljif jefto #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #messed around with canon a little bit

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