#( day 1 )

[wigglesdtuff]

THIS Diva

[nyoclosmom]

finished piece for today wooo

feb 1st- dark desires

plus timelapse cus why not

[quintessenceofdust88]

Bucktommy FluffFebruary - Day 1

Today is the first day of @bucktommyfluffebruary and I'm so excited to join! I'm not sure how many prompts I'll be able to do, but I definitely want to do at least one per week! Anyway I hope you enjoy this one!

Day 1: Non-Sexual Intimacy

bucktommy | rating G | words: 714 | minor tw: migraine

DAY 1: NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY

The bathroom is dimly lit and silent, the only sound is the soft sloshing of the water on the bathtub. Buck enters as quietly as possible, closing the door softly behind himself and looking at Tommy with a small smile on his lips.

His fiancé has his head on the bath pillow Buck's gotten him a few weeks before, his eyes closed in delight. 

Tommy doesn't get migraines very often, but when he does, they're bad. When they started dating, he'd find excuses to keep Buck at bay when they hit and ride them out alone.

But after the one Buck came to surprise him and found Tommy lying on the bathroom floor, in too much pain to even get himself in bed, he'd decided enough was enough. 

“I wanna help you when you're not feeling well, Tommy” He had told him, and Tommy, for once, had believed him.

Now, if Tommy feels a crisis approaching, he'll text Buck, and Buck will be over as soon as he can to help him.

This time, he's doing something Bobby told him that helps with Athena's headache. He prepared Tommy a warm bath in a candlelit bathroom with no sounds, trying to lower his sensory input as much as possible.

After fifteen minutes, he comes back. The flickering flame of the candle brings an eerie glow to Tommy's sculpted face, and Buck's heart skips a beat. God, his boyfriend is so handsome.

“Feeling better, babe?” Buck whispers, and Tommy opens his eyes just a slit, smiling softly at him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Thank you” He whispers back, and his voice doesn't sound as strained anymore, which makes Buck sigh in relief.

“That’s good. But don't thank me yet, the best part is coming now” He says, and Tommy smirks at him, his eyes closed.

“Hmm, I'm afraid you're gonna have to do all the work, I'm not all that better yet”

Buck huffs at him, nudging his bare shoulder, and Tommy chuckles softly. 

“No, it's not that” Buck clarifies. He positions himself behind Tommy, sitting on a stool. “I’m gonna try something that’s supposed to help, let me know if it does, ok?”

Tommy just hums in agreement, and Buck takes it as his cue to go on. As gently as possible, he places his fingertips over Tommy’s hair, feeling his soft curls between his fingers. Then, he presses just slightly, and his boyfriend lets out a groan. Buck withdraws in an instant. 

“Did it hurt?” He asked, and Tommy opens his eyes, looking at him. 

“No!” Tommy clarifies, and taking Buck’s hand in his wet one, gives it a small kiss and places it back on top of his head. “It… It felt really good.”

“Well, I’m glad then.” He tells him, pressing a gentle kiss to Tommy’s forehead. 

“Can you… can you continue doing it?” He asks, almost shyly, and Buck is ridiculously endeared.

It does something to his heart, knowing how strong and closed off Tommy is, to see him being so shy and vulnerable around Buck. It makes him feel like Tommy trusts him, and it’s such a good feeling. Buck likes to be the one Tommy relies on. 

“‘Course I can, babe.” Buck says, and gently starts stroking Tommy’s hair. 

He keeps the massage light and slow, making sure to press on the areas Bobby said he should: the back of Tommy’s neck, the base of his skull, and his temples. Tommy keeps his eyes closed, occasionally humming or groaning pleasantly when Buck hits a particularly sensitive spot. Other than that, though, they remain silent. It amazes Buck, because he’s never been good at comfortable silence, but with Tommy he’s able to enjoy it.  

They stay like that for a little longer, and the water must start to lose its warmth, because Buck can see a few goosebumps on Tommy’s arm. His boyfriend is so relaxed that he doesn’t seem to notice, so Buck presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you dressed and in bed.” Buck suggests, and Tommy nods at him.

Before leaving the water, though, he takes Buck’s hand in his once again, and gives him that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“Thank you, Evan. For taking care of me.”

[fabseg-creator]

MLB Femslash February 2025: Alyanette

Day 1: Marinette and Alya (Ambition; Start)

You can see the two besties work together. They begin a great project (translation un french: grand projet). Tikki and Trixx assist their holders.

This draft is made for the @mlbfemslashfebruary event.

[a-deep-ocean-of-secrets]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary

Day 1: Non-Sexual Intimacy

Summary:

After the longest shift of Buck's life, there's nothing he wants more than to curl up with his man.

Read below or on AO3 (3.2K words)

Buck could barely keep his eyes open as he pulled his Jeep into Tommy’s driveway after the longest 24 hours of his life. His shift had been an unrelenting slog from the moment he entered the station until the blessed moment he had finally been free to leave that particular circle of Dante’s hell. 

Call after call. Big calls. Little calls. Batshit crazy calls, like the woman who had hysterically rung 911 believing her husband, who was unresponsively stretched out on their ancient recliner in the living room, was dead. When the 118 had arrived with their sirens blaring and fearing the worst, they were baffled when the man perked right up and began talking to them. He hadn’t been dead, just dead set on ignoring his wife’s constant stream of conversation. 

And so it had gone. When coming back to the firehouse from a tedious call, the team had hardly had a moment to eat or clean or decompress before the alarm would shrilly blast throughout the station, and, with loud and despairing groans, they got back into the truck and off they went to serve and protect their community. 

Someone had to have uttered the dreaded Q-word. (Probably Ravi.) And when Buck got his hands on that certain someone, there would be hell to pay for the cursed shift he had just barely survived. 

And worse yet, Tommy had been just as busy—or even busier, god forbid—at his shift over at the 217 because the two had hardly been in contact for the last 24 hours. Texting his boyfriend a steady stream of consciousness of his innermost thoughts and feelings (interspersed with plenty of funny photos and memes) had become the highlight of Buck’s work days, and he had been cruelly denied the pleasure that was rapidly growing into an all-consuming addiction. 

When he cut the engine, it was as if he was a marionette whose strings had been snipped and he slumped forward and pillowed his arms on the steering wheel as he contemplated how pathetic it would be to fall asleep here in his vehicle instead of braving the twenty or so steps to Tommy’s front door. As awful as it’d be to have to walk (he’d been on his feet all day), he’d for sure wake up with a terrible crick in his neck if he stayed here. And besides that, his boyfriend was inside that house, which made it the obvious winner. Still, it took far too much energy to rouse himself to get out of the Jeep.

Grabbing his trusted duffle bag, Buck opened the car door and only whimpered a little as his feet landed on the unforgiving concrete driveway. He sluggishly shuffled his way up the walkway of Tommy’s postwar bungalow, dragging his feet in silent protest. When he reached the cheerfully painted canary yellow front door and stomped his feet on Tommy’s hilariously apt ‘Welcome! Just kidding, please go home’ doormat, he tiredly dug through the pockets of his sweatpants and pulled out Tommy’s house key. Dangling from it was a silver helicopter keychain and Buck couldn’t help but giddily smile at it as it gleamed in the early morning sunlight. 

Inserting the key into the lock, the door easily swung open as Buck made his way inside the home he had come to know as readily as the back of his hand. With his mind on autopilot, he quietly de-stressed. 

His Jeep was parked alongside Tommy’s truck outside. His keys clanked together as they plopped into the ceramic bowl on the sideboard in the foyer, right alongside Tommy’s own set of keys. He toed off his ratty sneakers and tucked them under the sitting bench, right next to Tommy’s worn boots. He dropped his duffle bag onto the leather cushion next to Tommy’s. 

It was all so automatic, all so routine. He had done this more times than he could count. Buck just fit in Tommy’s home, in his life. The synchronicity of it all wormed its way through the veins of his weary, exhausted body and warmed him from the inside out. The feeling was not dissimilar to being wrapped up tight, snug as a bug, inside an electric blanket on a cold winter’s day.  

Biting back a jaw-splitting yawn, Buck went to the kitchen for a glass of water. The house was quiet and peaceful as dewy morning light trickled in through the east-facing windows in radiant, golden shimmers. 

He entered the kitchen and his eyes were immediately drawn to the crock pot situated on the butcher block countertop. Older than Buck, the weathered, cream-and-blue crockpot was adorned with a homely floral pattern, though the original design was now hard to discern through the various stains and scorch marks tarnishing its kitschy facade. It had been one of Grammy Kinard’s prized possessions and Tommy couldn’t bear to part with it when she died ten years prior. He had even fished it out of the trash when his father had callously thrown it out after her funeral. 

It was an eyesore compared to Buck’s modern and sleek GreenPan slow cooker, but it prepared a meal just as well and he could never begrudge Tommy his sentimentality, not when it was one of the many traits he adored about him. He peered through the plastic lid at the firehouse chili simmering away on low heat. 

In a few hours, the house would be filled to the brim with the rich, hearty aroma of tenderly slow-cooked beef, tomatoes, and beans. Fragrant with the mouthwatering scents of garlic, cayenne, ground cumin, oregano, and chili powder all melded together. Later, Buck would prepare Bobby’s famous and flavorful honey jalapeño cornbread to accompany the delectable chili. He licked his lips in anticipation of how decadent their dinner would be. They would feast like kings tonight. Which was perfect, as both were heading into their stretches of 96 hours off. 

Grabbing the pitcher of water from Tommy’s fridge, he poured himself a glass and was absentmindedly sipping it as he eyed the coffee maker and found the carafe full of a fresh brew and being kept warm by the machine. When they awoke from their post-shift nap, coffee would be readily available for consumption. That kind of proactive thinking had Buck so often hot under the collar when it came to his boyfriend. 

He gulped the last of his water just as he spied a paper bag resting innocently on the counter with a familiar logo plastered across it. Clinging to it was a neon blue sticky note. Buck reached forward and plucked it off as he was greeted with Tommy’s familiar, blocky handwriting. 

I stopped at Baked Bliss on my way home and picked up some sugar for my sugar. ~ T 

“Dork,” Buck couldn’t help but mutter with a low chuckle, but his expression turned helplessly fond as his finger reverently traced over the clumsily drawn heart Tommy had placed after his initial. 

Baked Bliss was a bakery that opened a few months ago near Harbor and quickly became Buck’s go-to place to stop when visiting his boyfriend at work. They had everything: cookies, cupcakes, muffins, cakes, cinnamon rolls, and more. Tearing into the bag, Buck groaned loudly as he pulled out a key lime coconut cronut. His absolute favorite. 

It was beautifully baked and flaky, with coconut icing encircling the top and garnished with fresh lime zest. The citric scent tickled his nose in the most delightful way as Buck wasted no time taking a gigantic bite. He moaned indecently as soon as the pastry dough melted on his tongue. Barely stopping to swallow, he proceeded to devour the baked treat. 

He knew he wasn’t exactly the classiest of eaters. 

Maddie had given him shit for years about his seemingly abysmal table manners, but she was his sister, so that didn’t really count, right? And to be fair, he had tried to curb the bad habit around his partners with varying degrees of success. After the emergency tracheotomy, he had been too scared to really eat around Abby, worried he’d nearly kill himself again like the idiot he had been. Ali and Natalia hadn’t stuck around long enough for him to move past his early relationship jitters, so neither had been subjected to the full Evan Buckley Experience™. At a certain point in his relationship with Taylor, she’d just roll her eyes and mutter about him needing a pig trough. Which was rude, but her caustic sense of humor had never bothered him. So he liked people who were bitchy and a little mean? He had a type. 

She had that in common with Tommy, but luckily for Buck, Tommy found his table manners adorable rather than grotesque. So he was free to stuff his face as much as he pleased, all while his prime rib of a boyfriend gazed at him with doting eyes. More than once, Chimney had gagged at their antics and ordered them to stop being so disgustingly in love. 

But Buck had no intention of stopping, thank you very much. 

Once the cronut was gone and Buck’s fingers were licked clean, he hummed happily to himself as he surveyed the kitchen. After dealing with a shift just as backbreaking as his own, his boyfriend had driven to Buck’s favorite bakery to pick up his favorite treat and then driven home, prepared their chili, and got a batch of coffee brewing. 

Buck adored him with everything he had. 

Speaking of which, where was Tommy? He had yet to make an appearance and the house was serenely peaceful. Placing the glass in the sink and throwing the bag into the recycling bin, Buck turned on his heel and made his way to the bedroom.  A trail of Tommy’s clothes was randomly thrown around the hallway and guided his path. He pushed open the bedroom door and leaned against the doorway as he took in the endearing sight. 

Tommy was flopped haphazardly across the bed on his stomach. It was almost as if he had face-planted onto the mattress in his haste to get into bed and then was too tired to wriggle his way under the covers. So, instead, he had given up the fight, falling asleep right on the spot. His sturdy back rose and fell with deep, measured breaths and he peacefully slumbered as every exhale came out as a wailing whistle. He was clothed in nothing but his black boxer briefs that did amazing things to his ass, accentuating every ample curve. He must have showered at Harbor, for his hair was fluffy and free of product in the way that drove Buck wild, making him resemble a precious newborn chick more than anything else. 

Like an artist admiring his magnum opus, Buck pressed his shoulder into the doorframe as his eyes slowly and devoutly took in every feature and quirk of the man he loved with his entire heart. 

He began with the elegant swoops of Tommy’s arches and the thin, wiry scar stitched across his right heel from a childhood accident. Then, there was the way his second toes were just a smidge longer than his big ones; a fact that Tommy was embarrassed by, but Buck was completely enamored with. He loved tracing them on movie nights as the two lounged on the couch with Tommy’s feet in Buck’s lap. He’d massage them, digging his fingers into the arches and watching with glee as Tommy squirmed and attempted to hide his snorting laughs into the curve of his shoulder. And every time he had the gall to deny that he was ticklish there. No matter how much Buck made him giggle. 

Buck’s eyes slowly dragged up Tommy’s strong legs. He admired how they were splattered with downy leg hair, like numerous paint strokes slashing Tommy’s skin. He still remembered the first morning he woke up with Tommy in his bed. The other man had been a furnace at Buck’s backside as sweltering heat blazed across Buck’s naked, sleep-soft skin. His thick arm had been thrown proprietarily across Buck’s stomach, anchoring Buck to him as if afraid he’d slip away in his sleep. 

Which was completely ridiculous, because where else would Buck want to be than bunkered down with his beast of a man? Their legs had been tangled together and Buck’s neurons had been firing off in all directions as he shifted and felt the delicious friction of their leg hairs rubbing together. A far cry from the soft suppleness of women’s legs, even the ones who hadn’t enjoyed shaving. Not better or worse, just different in a way that had Buck’s engine revving. 

Buck’s eyes purposefully traveled upward to the two dimples grooved into the swell of Tommy’s lower back. God, did Buck love those two little craters crafted into the moonscape of Tommy’s skin. They were like homing beacons to him; it didn’t matter where they were or who they were with, but his thumbs always found purchase within those two dimples. 

When they were spending their weekends at the local farmers’ market, Buck’s arm would be slung around Tommy’s waist as his thumb settled into one of the dimples. Cuddling together on the couch, his hands always found their way under Tommy’s shirt to those two little furrows. When Tommy was above him, his thighs bracketing Buck’s hips as he rode him with reckless abandon, Buck’s hands always locked around his waist, his thumbs pressing into the skin with enough force to bruise. 

Those dimples were designed specifically for Buck’s thumbs. He firmly believed that. 

Buck’s eyes feasted on the sight of Tommy’s muscular back and the wide expanse of bare skin. Now, that was a canvas masterpieces were painted on. Dotting the landscape were numerous freckles and moles of varying sizes and colors. They were peppered up and down the slope of his spine. An entire universe of stars was contained to Tommy’s back; Buck’s very own starry night. 

Swaying in the doorway, Buck suddenly had the brilliant thought that the only thing better than admiring Tommy from a distance was getting up close and personal. Better yet, getting his hands all over the man in question. He quickly stripped off his clothes until he was left in only his boxer briefs, lowered himself onto the bed, and began crawling up it. 

His hands and knees sank into the sinfully soft mattress and Buck let out a weary sigh as any remaining tension from his hellish shift completely seeped away. He slithered along Tommy’s side until his head could rest on a pillow and he was pressed to Tommy’s robust body. Now that he was in close proximity, the freckles and moles were even more mesmerizing as they stood out brilliantly against Tommy’s creamy skin. 

With the utmost gentleness, he brought his callused fingers to Tommy’s back and began tracing over the various spots and splotches, forming his very own constellations. Not the hunters, maidens, or fierce creatures charted by the ancient Greeks, but renderings of his imagination brought to life against the backdrop of his boyfriend’s skin. 

A racing rabbit. A sparrow in mid-flight. A daffodil with its petals raised towards the sun. There were infinite possibilities to explore and create and Buck couldn’t wait to come back to them time and time again. Tommy was his North Star. The most dazzling one in the entire night sky, and all Buck’s. 

Overcome with affection, Buck replaced his fingers with his lips as he kissed the individual knobs of Tommy’s spine. He could feel the heady warmth of Tommy’s skin as it splayed before him. He deliberately worked his way up the curvature of Tommy’s back and had just reached the bend where his neck met his broad shoulder when movement below caught his attention. 

Tommy snuffled himself awake as a shuddering sigh passed through his body. And like an overly-indulgent cat in a sunbeam, he stretched out his long limbs. His back rippled intoxicatingly, like a pebble bouncing off the surface of a calm lake. 

“Ev’n?” he sleepily murmured as he buried his head further into his pillow. “Iz t’at you?” 

“Yeah, babe. It’s me,” Buck whispered, keeping his voice low as he propped his chin on Tommy’s shoulder. He tilted his head and watched as Tommy’s face began to come to life. A furrow developed in the grooves of his forehead as his eyebrows scrunched towards each other. His dry lips smacked together as he worked up to speak. His eyes blinked blearily and Buck watched enraptured as he caught the barest flicker of blue. 

Moderately more awake, Tommy sleepily asked, “How was work?”

“Long. Exhausting. Bizarre.” Buck punctuated every word with a kiss to the shell of Tommy’s ear and enjoyed the shiver that swept through his boyfriend’s massive body. He was so responsive, in all ways. It drove Buck mad, and if he weren’t so physically drained he’d do something about it. But alas… 

“What were you doing to my back? I could feel you.” 

Buck felt a flush spread rapidly across his cheeks that surely was the same color as his birthmark, but he didn’t demur at being found out. Honesty was the best policy and all that jazz.

“Tracing constellations.” 

Tommy snorted as he raised his head and met Buck’s gaze. Humor and fondness were clear in his eyes as the two looked at each other. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“You have an entire galaxy mapped out across your back. How could I resist?” Buck let his fingers tenderly run up and down Tommy’s spine as he spoke. 

Tommy’s lips quirked. “You’re so weird. I love it.” 

From anyone else, the words would have had Buck ducking away self-consciously, but from Tommy, they were a compliment of the highest order. Tommy never made him feel as if he was Bucking things up by simply being himself. He embraced all of Buck’s oddities and tendencies. He didn’t just embrace them, but was enthusiastic in diving into Buck’s psyche; always asking for more, more, more. 

It seemed Tommy was not as tired as he let on because, within the blink of an eye, he had rolled onto his back and had Buck gathered up in his arms. Their bodies were pressed together from head to foot and Buck reveled in the gluttonous sensation of so much skin-to-skin contact. The combined heat of their bodies was an inferno unto itself as it burned and burned. Buck basked in its dizzying glow. 

Like a brand, Tommy pressed his lips to Buck’s temple. Buck hummed contentedly as he burrowed further into Tommy, his earlier exhaustion creeping in as sleep tugged persistently on his drooping eyelids. 

“Sleep now,” Tommy whispered, already halfway there himself. “I made coffee for later. And chili.”

“Can’t wait,” Buck replied. He couldn’t wait for all of it. The coffee. The chili. The cornbread. The upcoming four days spent together. The weekend trip to Napa Valley that was planned for next month. Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Year’s Eve. 

The rest of their lives. Together. 

Buck slid his head down Tommy’s chest until his ear was fitted over the steadfast heartbeat reverberating from within. 

Thump—thump—thump. 

The most beautiful sound in the world. 

And so together, they slept. 

@bucktommyfluffebruary

[littlemusic-muse]

Day 1: First Meeting

Working with grey scale or black and for most of this month. Let's see how this go!!

[occasional-yan-stuff]

Yanruary day 1- sharing a meal

description: Gn!reader, SFW

warnings: Force feeding, restriction of movement, kidnapping, past punishment (implied), resistant reader, past non-consequential kissing, coercion, manipulation

"Open wide!" He said gleefully. He didn't wait for you to respond. He knew you wouldn't obey him. Instead, he simply squeezed on your cheeks to get your mouth open and placed the fork inside, the steak along with it. It tasted good and that only made you hate it more. It only made you hate him more. You wanted to spit it out but you knew what would happen if you did. Begrudgingly, you chewed and swallowed.

"Theeeere we go," he was far too relaxed as he spoke. His voice would almost be comforting if not for the situation.

"Now how about you open up without me making you, hm?" he tilted his head slightly. His tone was sickly sweet as he encouraged you to do it. Almost like a kindergarten teacher. You responded by keeping your lips shut tight.

"Come on, don't be like that," a small pout emerged from his lips, "You can't have dessert if you don't finish your dinner."

Wondering what he meant by 'dessert' made you shudder. You almost certainly wouldn't like it. He would probably kiss you again or give you another gift you didn't want. You just wanted to be out of this place. Anything else he could give you was more of an insult than anything. Just another reminder that he longed for you too much to ever let you go.

Your eyes drifted down to the plate in front of you. It was mouth watering. It smelled divine. It was decadent and shiny and ever so vibrant. The plate was so large but it looked small as the only dish on the long mahogany table. Still, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tilted your chin up. He wouldn't make you give into him again.

"I'm not going to let you starve dearest," he said, specks of frustration and passive aggression leaking in through his smile. When you responded with only a glare, having resolved not to speak to him the previous day, he let out an exasperated sigh.

"How about this," He punctuated his statement by stepping behind you in order to whisper in your ear, "If you can finish the food that I so lovingly prepared for you," there was a pause, perhaps for dramatic effect or perhaps to reconsider his plan, "I'll let you out of the chair."

What? It was too good to be true. There had to be some catch, some plan. Then again, his words brought back your awareness of the ropes that bound you in place. You had stopped noticing the discomfort of them digging into your wrists, waist, and ankles, but his words returned the feeling to you. You realized how gross you felt and how badly you needed a shower. It would be so easy to run away if you were finally out of this chair-

NO! No! nononononono! You had promised yourself you wouldn't give in to him. You had promised yourself he wouldn't wear you down. You had promised yourself that you wouldn't let him win. Was this really all it took to persuade you.

He noticed you faltering and smirked before slowly raising the plate of warm food closer to your face.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" There was a smugness in his voice that you absolutely despised but... he was right, wasn't he?

Slowly, reluctantly, your mouth slid open.

[the-catmans-offical-2]

I'm overworking myself but, trying to draw and post more!

Day 1: Crossovers

IDW Sonic × FMA 03 >:)

[yink07]

Hi guys! I apologise, I wanted to post the drawing first but unfortunately I wasn't home all morning and couldn't publish it (because it's on my iPad) 😅

So here's the drawing for day 1 of my event - Good Omens Chocolate Gift Box [Ineffable Husbands Edition 2025];

The prompt is:

‘Your laugh is contagious’

Drawing without the prompt text undercut ⤵️

[st-loveconfessions]

Day 1: Send someone a funny meme or picture

Welcome to our month-long Acts of Kindness challenge. Today's challenge is all about the joy of knowing someone is thinking of you.

We all know the situation. You’re doom scrolling on tumblr and come across a cool meme that really reminds you of that one moot who loves cats, or the author of that spectacular werewolf AU. Man, you think as you keep scrolling, I'm sure they'd love this!

Today's challenge is to not keep scrolling but to share that meme or pic or video with them. You can send it via DM or tag the person in a reblog, whatever you prefer.

Have fun and spread some joy! ♥️

[pistachiopie]

favorite side character <3

[miryel89]

Mirytober - Day 1. Mirror @dbdpromptober

[13thdoodle]

[ Ectoberhaunt24 Day 1 : Past Present Future ]

Here they aarrreee~ The chaos trio UwU

This is based of my DP RET Time AU, where trio are basically adopted by CW to be his wards and given powers over past present and future respectively

Sam got Past, Danny Present, Tucker Future

Ok I be so real, I actually have no idea how Sam's past power works, but I do like hourglass time aesthetic, so I gave it to her askjdnaskdj

the hourglass shape was actually me trying to draw the proper hour glass shape but draw one side too straight but I was like wait no I might be cooking sth here akjsdnakd

It kinda look neat n reminds me of those one sided die or impossible loop

For Danny, I gave him string games/cat's craddles to connect multiple points of presents together. I use this butterfly(?) shape as reference bc sth sth butterfly effects

Drawing hands.... (my beloved) (my detested)

For Tucker, he get to have fancy screens bc future tech tm I do give him the rings that match all 3 of their colors uwu

Blue for Danny, purple for Sam, and yellow-orange for himself. That also reflects on their robe. I was gonna give them all the same purple colors but I messed around with the base color change and the blue one looks really cute on Danny with purple textures so here we are sakdjansjkd

kinda reminds me of this fabric type a bit

[occudo]

@jonmartinweek day 1 First Kiss // Season 1 heavily inspired by chewsdaychillin 's fic however do we manage wich I highly recommend! So good! (The rest of the week not going to get this long posts, I just got inspired by the fic)

[tamelee]

SNS-Month, 1: Sun & Moon. We're going on a journey this month 💕

[casuallyanidiot]

Yantober Day 1

Love at First Sight [Yandere Forest God x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove do not Eat! MDNI, NSFW Noncon, oral sex (recieving), Yandere, Implied kidnapping

You go into a newly acquired piece of land to survey it for your job when things start to become strange...

1.7k words

There was something wrong with these woods.

You were used to seeing some kind of anomaly in your field studies. Maybe the deer or rabbit population was too high, or you would find that an invasive species was beating out a more native one. It was never crazy though outside of the normal, exhausting sludge that was conservationist work. You were sent out by the local government to different wildlife reserves, or areas that were undeveloped to do some basic surveying and then come back and give them updates.

This forest wasn’t any different, initially. It was a newer addition to your city’s ownership, sold to them by a smaller, dying rural town. There were talks of what to do with the land, but first you had to be sent down to make sure they wouldn’t violate any regulations or kill off an endangered species. Not that they really cared. After all, your job was to get professionally ignored.

So you went in, camping gear and your truck in tow, and you began to explore.

Again, it was normal at first.

It was an average area. Normal flora and fauna. In fact, it was kinda impressive how well the area seemed to be doing. There was hardly any trash, no signs of destruction, no weird occurrences. It made you feel kinda happy. You went about your days just noting stuff down, humming happily all the while.

It was fine until the staring started. It began with a squirrel or two. They would just sit there, unmoving, unblinking, always just in the corner of your vision. Odd, sure, but maybe they were trying to see if they could get some of your food you always carried with you? Days passed and it escalated to a couple of birds added in, perched on branches and hidden by thick leaves. Then some bunnies, not even eating or twitching their little noses.

You thought you were going crazy, but nothing could prepare you for when the bigger animals started doing the same damn thing. The deer were one thing, already unsettling and strange, but having a bear watch you, still as a stagnate pond, was terrifying. You weren’t sure what to make of it. The only time the oddly behaving creatures would move were when either you’d get too close (in which they’d back off) or when you explored the forest (in which they’d follow after you in some sort of procession). 

You noted it all down of course. You assumed that it might be an illness, or perhaps they were used to humans? But they didn’t look unwell, and from what you understood, this place was rather isolated, so there was no reason for them to approach you this often. You felt a sense of growing unease with each passing day, with each filled page in your field journal. This was getting too weird. The thing of note was obviously the staring, but you figured that it was definitely not in your area of expertise.

That’s why, after weeks of camping and surveying the woods, you decided to get the fuck out of there. 

You packed up your campsite with little fanfare, hundreds of tiny gazes trained on your back. You glanced around as you loaded up a final few things into your truck, and you had only just realized then how many of them there were. The fauna crowded around the clearing you had settled in like a bated audience, and you shuddered. If you weren’t getting paid so much to stake it out here, then you probably would’ve hightailed it much faster.

“Okay… got my keys…” You mumbled and shuffled through your pockets quickly to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Should be good to go now.”

“Go where?”

You spun around, nearly jumping out of your skin in shock. Behind you stood a man, imposingly tall with a stony expression and dark skin. You pressed your hand to your now rapidly beating chest as he towered over you with a tilted head.

“Where are you going?” He repeated, and he prompted out a hand that was seemingly carved out of a deep bark to beckon your words out. You were shocked. His hair was seemingly made of vines connecting him to the earthen ground and shifting in unnatural ways.

“Uhhhh, back home?” Was all you could say in a slightly unsure voice. Seriously, you were at a loss for words. You had never seen such a person, and through your stuttering mind, you were able to guess that whatever was wrong with this place was probably his doing.

The man’s eyebrows (which looked as if they had been carved into his face) furrowed slightly. He placed a hand on his chin in contemplation, his dark hollow eyes and pure emerald pupils narrowing slightly.

“But,” he started, and it felt like his words rung over a hundred times in your head, shaking and lumbering through every node of your soft brain tissue. “But I thought you had come to live here,” He mumbled and reached forward to touch your arm. You flinched back on instinct, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Flower…” The man chided softly. His seeking fingers were more insistent this time, and you could not move back quickly enough before he was snatching you up and drawing you close. You cried out softly as you fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and sighed, shivering in contentment. You cringed at the feeling of shifting, wriggling grass and vines.

“Flower, surely you must know that you cannot go,” He sighed while he ran his hands over your scalp. You blinked. Flower… why was he calling you this? You pushed him back slightly, just to look him in the face.

“I’m sorry but, who are you?” You asked. It wasn’t just a name thing, but rather to say ‘who do you think you are?’. He hummed in response, and you can see him taking in every little thing about you. Suddenly, he laughed.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel, my flower? You ask my name but I know naught of yours,” He said with affection blooming between every roll of his tongue. Your vision spun, and suddenly your back was pressed against soft earth and damp grass. You gasped and cried out. Before you could even protest, your shirt was ripped open and your pants were pulled down.

“What silly things you wear,” He chuckled and placed kisses along your neck. The feeling was strange, slightly rigid. “Is this what mortals wear nowadays? So revealing,” He murmured and toyed with the shredded fabric. Your eyes were wide, and you tried to wriggle out from under him. He merely grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back, the vines from his hair enveloping you and wrapping around your limbs. You squeaked as your thighs were pulled apart by the coiling greenery, digging into the softer flesh. 

“I must admit,” the man moved back, letting his breath ghost over your parted legs and crotch. “I was rather taken with you from the moment you arrived.” 

The strange man held you down as he buried his rugged face and strangely glowing tongue in your entrance while stroking your privates with grooved, deft fingers. Your back arched, and you desperately tried to break free. Your frantic pleas for release were soon broken by the sounds of your breathy moans, and your voice rang like a bell in the clearing. Each lap of his rugged tongue sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling. 

“W-what? Stop that! Let me go!”

Your keys were discarded in the grass, and those fucking animals just kept staring. You could see your writhing, pinned form in the reflection of hundreds of deep, black unblinking pools. You felt sick to your stomach, and no amount of fluttering arousal could disguise that.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had company, and you come here looking like that. No, you’re going nowhere, flower.”

It felt like years were passing as he kissed, licked and held your hips in place with a tender firmness that would have you blushing if he was your lover. Or at least a lover you chose. Your begging was drowned out by your own frantic heartbeat and the humiliating squelch of your own pleasure. Never had you faced such cruel adoration, such gentle violence. Any place that had previously shown off exposed skin was kissed in a brief moment of reprieve from the onslaught. Your arms, your calves, your collar bones which had only just peaked out from under the neckline of your shirt.

Your truck, covered in mud, but still rather nice nonetheless, slowly began to be pulled into the ground by the flowers and flora rapidly growing on the vehicle. Your things! You tried to reach for them, but a hand of his reached up and entwined his fingers with yours.

Your screams of both pleasure and fear were carried by the wind, weaving through trees and filling the forest as naturally as the rustle of leaves. He continued to eat you out, and it was like you could feel his words in your head simply from the graze of his palm. It was overwhelming, and with each wave of heat, each tremble of your body, you sank further and further into his hold.

“Oh, look at you, my flower,” He pressed reverent kisses to your naval. “How you shall bloom in my care.”

More pressure, more bitter white flashes dancing across your vision as you keened and cried. Branches rustled around your face, and you wondered when they had even gotten there in the first place. They sprouted from his back and shielded you from the sun and sky. 

“-made for me-”

“-love…”

“Flower…my flower…”

You caught bits and pieces of his voice, nestled in your ears like sticky pollen. It was too much, and all at once you had come undone, spilling over his face with an anguished, strangled noise.

It was hard to think after that. All you could feel, all you could know was that you were being dragged back into those deep, dark, very wrong woods with a loving smile slotted against your lips and flowers in your hair.