#Hmmmmmm

[originalartblog]

When I first saw that new Harukawa art I thought Chuuya was wearing a regular coat over a black hoodie and even if I was wrong... when you compare his outfit to the other guys'... well.

[akanemnon]

It could get worse and it DID get worse

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[the-phantom-peach]

Whats your opinion on link between worlds? i love my dumb purple rabbit man-

I was just drafting a design for him last week! Definitely want to finish his and albw link design soon “€(-.-“)

but I’m SO sad I’ve never taken the time to play albw (YET) TT it’s definitely on the list of zelda games I need to finish bc omG I love ravio. I already know the basic plot of albw since I used to be so obsessed with him on release that I looked up spoilers, but I’ll definitely take some time to play it when I get the chance TT

[heavenlyyshecomes]

Sarah Barber, Vinegar

[niinnyu]

Sunsets and stars.

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x06

[crystallizsch]

Hey, prof. How are your classes? My new first-year students are quite behaved this year.

post-nrc yuusha brain worms are getting to me,,,,

anyways i finally figured it out- i want her to start working as the art professor at nrc probably a short time after graduation 👀

(so not really post-nrc since she's still there 💀)

[ghostbsuter]

Wonder MOM ( part 1 )

Happenings/mentions of:

Child abuse, possible trafficking, kidnapping and blood!

Nothing is explicit.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Someone was in that cage.

Controlled anger aside, Batman made sure his footsteps were to be heard, speaking slow and calm as he approached and slid off the cloth.

"Everything will be okay now, are you–?"

With the cloth aside, Batman got a good look at the unconscious person inside.

He knows that face.

Thats—!!

"B! B, can you hear me?" Oracle calls, considering no one else seems to talk, he assumes Barbara put them into a private line.

"I'm here, Oracle." He answers easily, hands gripping the lock and fishing out the familiar pick-locking equipment.

"You went silent for a moment there, B, we got worried."

He gives a grunt at that, ripping the cage bars open and carefully checking for a pulse.

It's there, barely.

"Oracle, call Agent a to prepare, I'm bringing someone over."

"Got it. B, be careful, please."

Bringing the teen, the same age as his youngest, out of the cage seemed a bit harder than thought.

With some manoeuvring and carefully placed feet, the big Bat brings them both out in one swoop, tight on his hold.

His head rolls to the side, groggily blinking awake and peering up to Batman.

"Batsy?"

"Sleep, I'm getting you out of here."

"...knew you'd find me." Messy black hair hides the way he squishes his own face into Batman's side.

"Mom's probably very worried..." he gives an awkward laugh, throat dry and burning with the move.

The movement and warmth lulled him into sleep quite easily.

(Batman's expression, even if stony and blank, covered in a dark veil, anyone can see the carefully hidden layer of fury.)

—

Patrol was cut short that night, the boy in Alfred's care, and Bruce didn't hesitate calling Diana immediately after.

"Hello—"

"I found him."

Diana, Wonder Woman, remained silent upon the response, a quite inhale echoing through the call.

"They brought him all the way to Gotham?"

The man nods despite knowing Diana wouldn't see, giving a verbal answer after.

"I have a report of all injuries he has been subjected to. I'll send you the list."

There is a moment of silence before a sharp hiss from Diana comes through.

"They took his blood–?!"

"Not much from what Alfred gathered, but enough to get a running supply for their... plans."

"I'm coming over. Bruce, you and I both know the dangers of his blood in the wrong hands."

"Let's discuss this once you're here, Diana. Safe travels."

With a click and the call ended.

One look, and he has the eyes of most birds and bats on him already.

"The boy. You know him." Damian steps forward, arms crossed and cape off. The others must have come back not long ago and eavesdropped on his conversation.

"I do."

(The fact he doesn't elaborate nor does anyone either speak up is quite hilarious, wasn't it for the situation.)

The silence goes on, eyes sweeping over Stephanie's furrowed, thoughtful expression, Tim's calculating gaze, cass's curious yet open body language, duck's suspicious raised eyebrow and Damian's 'I dare you' scowl.

At least they didn't wake duke with their commotion.

"What's going on?" Jinxed, Duke himself comes down the stairs in his sleeping clothes, yawning.

"Duke, you're supposed to sleep."

"Sorry, sorry, apparently family drama is happening, and they needed more support." He jerks his hand towards the gaggle of vigilante children(1)/teens/one adult that is only an adult because of age laws.

Bruce suppresses a sigh.

There's a giggle to the side which gathers the attention of everyone.

Around the same height of damian, slightly thinner, is the teen B rescued not long ago. And who should not be awake either.

Alfred gives a smile, arm out stretched to support him on his way to the batclan, eyening his form with tapt attention.

"Batsy!" Ignoring the snorts and coos, Bruce nods back.

"Danny." The kid grins broadly, approaching.

He gives a wave to the other, attention solely on Bruce however.

"Is my mom coming?"

"Yes, she is on her way."

"Wonderful!"

He claps, arms bandaged to his throat, sickly pale and absolutely looking like prime adoption bait.

Cass approaches, hands ready to sign the most wnated question of everyone in the room and Bruce is already feeling the words of denial at the tip of his tongue.

'New br—'

"No."

Cass isn't backing down, expression only getting more determined.

'Honorary brother?'

He doesn't stop the sigh escaping, especially when Danny jumps up at the words with glee.

"Yes! Honorary!"

She seems very pleased with that, holding her hand out for a silent request, qnd once approved, gave a nice headpat.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't tell your kids of me, batsy." Danny side eyes the man, grinning mischievous.

"It slipped my mind."

(No, he doesn't break under the gaze of every person's disbelief stare directed at him. He stronger than that.)

(B did avoid meeting anyone's eyes tho.)

"Wait, so who is the moth—"

A green portal opens in the middle of the cave, and it has the most tense and drawing weapons.

Wonder woman stepped through.

"That answers my question then."

"Mom!"

Diana swooped him up, holding him closer and ducking her head into his black hair.

The Lady peers up at Bruce with a smile. "Thank you."

Her attention shifts to the child. "Frostbite will be expecting us, are you doing good enough to walk or should I–"

"I'm okay! I can walk!" Danny puffs his chest to prove it, giving her a reassuring smile.

Diana's brows knit together in worry. "Very well." She accepts, reluctant. She leads him to the still open veil of green, nodding towards pennyworth and both bid their goodbyes.

For now that is.

The portal closes.

"So, how were we originally supposed to know about Diana having a son??"

"HIS MOM IS WONDER WOMAN????"

"I'm so glad this isn't another adoptive brother. Honorary is good enough."

"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US, B!!!"

"Does that mean we have a miniature Trinity of the originals?"

[pollyanna-nana]

I think it’s so interesting that Thistle sealed the Winged Lion away because it’s undoubtedly the reason why he was able to keep the dungeon going for 1000 years. And the thing is I don’t think we really know WHY he sealed it away, and he might not either!

He grows distrustful of the demon, like we see here, and at some point after this (and having more of his desires eaten, which we can tell by the WL’s increased size…) he seals it away. And knowing that he’s totally willing to do things like stuff his own grand nephew in a doll for going against him, it’s not like doing something like that is against his character. But, still. The fact that he just so happened to stumble upon the action that would allow him to prolong the kingdom’s existence as part of the dungeon is… interesting. Hell, even the Winged Lion is surprised that Thistle apparently did this without knowing that the demon ate desires:

This is just a hunch, but before taking Delgal into the dungeon and smashing the statue he talks about investigating the ruins a lot. And we know he does a lot of research, too. Could it be that he actually stumbled across the truth of the demon, but had the desire to do anything actionable with that knowledge nibbled out of him and forgotten about? But somehow, still had the overwhelming feeling of distrust in what the demon was saying?

He knows the Winged Lion lies and manipulates people, and yet he lacks the willingness— or perhaps, the capacity— to reflect that back on his own behavior. It’s fascinating, and makes me wonder how long he would’ve lasted if not for sealing it away. It could’ve been simply the same kind of lashing out we see him do towards the people he distrusts that serendipitously turned out to be the right move in this circumstance, or it could’ve been something more. Honestly I’m not even really sure what I think, I’d be interested in hearing other’s interpretations!

[ender-of-the-sender]

Chat what if i made a wiggly for my room

Like thats just 2 led light things from ikea, 6 pieces (or however many you can cut in half) of green tinsel and a red bow

[mr-cactis]

Wip

[artdcnaldson]

art virgin being taught how to eat pussy on reader while patrick coaches him and jacks him off ? - 🪵

YUMMMMMM <3333

“C’mon, just a little higher,” Patrick goads, one hand gripping into blond curls, the other wrapped around Art’s cock. He tries his best to guide him, but Art gets so fucking lost the second he gets a hand wrapped around his cock. “Let me see your tongue, baby. That’s it— lick right here— ohhh… see? She likes it.”

Art blushes, moans against your pussy. He knows he’s not good. He’s a slobbery, clumsy mess. His tongue is either too soft or too jabby, and his nose is all slick with your arousal. All of those things can’t be good, but you moan so pretty, he feels your thighs tremble on either side of his ears, boxing him in. Whenever he pulls a pretty noise out of you, Patrick rewards him by jerking his dick faster, giving him that delicious friction he needs so badly.

“Wrap your lips around… yeah, that’s it, baby—“ he can hear the smile in Patrick’s voice, the fine line the brunet walks between pride and condescension. “Suck on it, just a little. See? See how she cries for you? Bet her little hole’s dripping for you, baby. Lick it up.”

[akanemnon]

This deja vu comes with a free concussion!

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[jesuistrestriste]

thinking about drunk art coming to your apartment in the middle of the night to cry in your arms and then suddenly he’s looking deep into your eyes and trying to kiss you:/ it’s all tongue and clashing teeth and desperate grasps at your hips but he can’t really do anything to stop it. the room is spinning, and you’re warm, and you’re comforting him, and now he needs to be inside you

[aquared46]

Happy ao3 downtime. Have a little andreil fic. As a treat.

It was only because Neil recognized the cadence of the footsteps downstairs that his pounding heart calmed. He untangled his legs from the blankets, but didn’t rise from the bed. He listened as Andrew locked the front door, the pounding in his head and the sickness swirling in his stomach indicating he only managed about an hour of sleep. Vague images clung to the backs of Neil’s eyelids, a nightmare that slipped from his waking mind. Something Andrew had saved him from before he was even in the room.

Andrew wasn’t supposed to be back in South Carolina for another two weeks, obligated to spend time training with his team between games. Neil himself should’ve been on campus, ready for practice in the morning. Instead, Coach took one look at him yesterday afternoon and sent him away with orders to get some sleep. To give his vice captain a chance to practice for the real thing once Neil graduated in a few short months.

Neil couldn’t get any sleep at the dorms, but his and Andrew’s bed in Columbia called to him. Neil made the trip and collapsed into it, his mind wandering to the countless firsts they shared there rather than the onslaught of memories March brought.

Neil had survived three Marches since the riot, since his father’s people had delivered him to the basement in Baltimore. His fourth March should’ve been no different.

Except there was one thing Neil hadn’t accounted for: Andrew wasn’t there.

Neil was in his final year, Andrew was playing on a professional team states away, and Neil had never realized exactly how much he leaned on him in times like this. How the shared cigarettes steadied his hands, how Andrew’s palm on the back of his neck halted the crawling beneath his skin.

Objectively, he knew Andrew helped, but it was also something Neil should’ve been able to do on his own. It wasn’t something he wanted to burden Andrew with, something that pulled him away from his responsibilities because Neil couldn’t manage to get through just a few fucking days without nearly falling apart.

And now Andrew was standing in the doorway of their bedroom in Columbia, the light from the hall flooding into the room and illuminating Neil in all his disgrace. The sweaty skin, the greasy hair, the circles under his eyes, the t-shirt Neil had bundled under his head.

Neil had found it wedged between the nightstand and the bedframe, undoubtedly tossed aside carelessly on a good day that involved lots of kissing and touching. It smelled a bit like old sweat, but Andrew’s scent also clung to it, and Neil was far beyond denying himself such a simple comfort.

Andrew kicked the bedroom door closed, and Neil listened to his footsteps as he approached in the dark. There was a click as Andrew tugged the chain of the small lamp on the nightstand. Andrew always hated how bright the overhead light was.

Andrew gestured to Neil’s entirety. “This is not fine.” He snagged the shirt from under Neil’s head, wrinkling his nose before tossing it aside.

Andrew had called him just two days earlier. They’d talked as they always did, exchanging stories and sometimes just sitting in silence, knowing the other was there and listening. Except this time Andrew had explicitly asked how Neil was holding up, and Neil had said he was fine.

“I meant what I said.” Neil mourned the loss of the shirt, but tucked his face closer to the pillow, where some of the smell had transferred.

Andrew’s jaw tensed. “I thought you weren’t going to lie to me anymore.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you’re lying to yourself.” Something settled in Andrew’s gaze as he examined Neil, the tension in his shoulders easing. “And you’re an idiot if you think I’d make you bear this on your own.”

Andrew emptied his pockets on the nightstand, and Neil felt something loosen in him as well. As Andrew peeled off his jeans, Neil scooched over to make enough room on the bed.

“There were no games scheduled, so I got cleared for this time off weeks ago,” Andrew said as he slipped under the covers.

The relief Neil felt from his proximity didn’t lessen the weight of his glare. “And you’re telling me this now?”

“You should’ve known I’d be here for your yearly mental breakdown. At least you keep a consistent schedule. I was curious whether you’d be honest with me, but now I have to ask: Was it a lack of self-awareness or sheer bullheaded stubbornness that kept you from telling the truth?” Andrew was close enough Neil could feel the warmth radiating off him. “I didn’t believe you then, and your current appearance only validates that assessment. If I asked again what would your answer be now?”

Neil ignored his first impulse, which was to say he was fine. Not only was it the answer Andrew didn’t want, but it certainly wasn’t true. Frustratingly, everything Andrew said was right. The way Andrew could peel back his layers and see what was underneath used to be unsettling, but nowadays Neil found it reassuring. Even if it pissed him off. Even if Andrew told him things he didn’t want to hear.

“That I can’t sleep,” Neil said through gritted teeth. “That he’s the only thing I see when I close my eyes, and that I wish you were here.”

“That’s better,” Andrew said. “Certainly more believable.”

Andrew reached for Neil, settling his arm over his waist and tugging him closer. Neil sagged into the contact, shuddering with relief as he tucked his head under Andrew’s.

Neil breathed him in. “I should be able to bear this on my own.”

“You don’t have to. I’d rather be here when you don’t need me than be away when you do.” Andrew tightened his arm, tangling Neil’s legs with his.

Neil had been holding himself together by threads for the past few days. In Andrew’s arms, he was safe enough to let himself fall apart. His chest was tight, and he gradually lost the steady breaths he forcibly maintained.

Andrew held him through it, his fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on Neil’s spine. It was something Neil could focus on, something he could latch onto to draw himself back into his own body. Exhaustion crashed into him as soon as he did, but not before he made Andrew a promise.

“I’ll do better next time.”

“I know.”