#LIKE 👌👌👌���👌👌👌👌👌👌

[still-fatemeh]

Xx_st1ll_fat3m3h-xX

1. change all the e’s in your url to “3” 2. change all the o’s in your url to “0” 3. change all the i’s in your url to “1” 4. add some dashes everywhere 5. put “Xx_” and “_xX” at the beginning and end 6. your new emo chat forum url

[b-blushes]

ohhhhhhhh u know my t-shirt problem (places that I know about don’t sell T-shirts that meet all criteria of 1) big design I like 2) affordable for me 3) thick 100% cotton 4) base colour I like 5) shop based in the uk) and how I was thinking about Lino printing but the conundrum is my hand strength/uhhhh hypermobility. Also Lino printing seems like a Whole Thing and I’ve not done it onto fabric before.

I just had the idea of using some of my existing drawings. Scanning them. Enlarging the images. I can trace them into T-shirts by sticking it all to a window temporarily (technique I’ve used to trace full size clothing patterns onto reel of printer paper so the original pattern stays intact and I can cut up the traced one). Paint with fabric paint (or ideally fabric marker??? Do they make those with staying power these days???). Fix. Profit?????

FEELING PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS I WILL SAYYYYYYYY

[novaoinova]

Aaaa, little details of your new adorable animation!

Jayce nodding along, his hair getting tossed and Viktor smiling..

Detail of Viktor looking at his hand before smear-framing out and looking like Kermit as he does so! 😁

Probably my favourite is Jayce dropping his arm limp and taking a deep breath looking like that, beautiful 👏👌

I love when people stop animation to look at that silly smear frames that gave me so much joy

[crimsonthornedrose]

Literally found this cosy jumper top/fleece thing last night and it's saved me because I lost the heating panel for my house, so it's like an ice cave in here until I'm payed 😆👌

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/774226722348498944/when-crucifixes-dont-work-against-lust-demons-so?source=share

Working more on that idea and instead of using actual babies doing a monsters inc.

Maybe using/having baby clothes that have been sadly outgrown from (babies/children outgrow clothes fast fast), and using that as a repellent. After all, I remember that concubi hate the smell of innocence(? I think), so it is more like being near children for too long or children things and bam, natural lust demon repellent 👌

If you are afraid of a good time that is

-🍵🪶

That's already much safer!

If you stock up enough, and have decent aim, you might even get out of very sticky situations (perhaps literally).

There's nothing that'll kill a pursuing concubus' mood more than being hit with a toddler's used socks.

A starved, desperate concubus might still harm themself to reach you, however.

[an-evil-tomato]

Daily Feb: 8/28

Laios again...but the monster version. It's what he would want. 🐕

Monster Laios hunts down all sorts of adventurers to see what they taste like (apparently different magic users in particular tend to vary greatly based on their skills and what system of magic they use).

Didn't get around to drawing a full body thing, but he's got 3 tails. This I am certain of.

Also I know I've put The Wolf Shirt in the background, but he is in fact a dog chimera (and I'm so sorry for the war flashbacks FMA fans).

Also also, have been enjoying keeping the texture of my sketchbook in these digital drawings. Adds a certain... je ne sais quois...👌

[alextydaisuda123]

I got carried away by changing the palettes of Soul and my favorite Pepperman. I wanted to see how it would look. It looks like it even changed our personalities, lol🤣👌

[silenzahra]

THE BABIES READY TO PLAY TENNIS ����🧡

Love the poses and the lighting so much!! And also how Luigi is so ready to kick asses while Daisy is just having fun 🤭😂

felt like redrawing

hopefully they hit these finals for me too 🫠

[azathothweirdo]

Don't you love it when people make up pointlessly complicated theories because the themes of the story have gone completely over their head 👌

It's just really weird when aoex is not like subtle or secretive about it. I was seeing people unable to comprehend children are sometimes accidents a week ago. It's funny but also a frustrating confusion because it ignores the strong story line of how Shiro became their dad. He didn't need to be related to them biologically, he became their father because he loved them. He wasn't perfect, he failed, but he raised two really good boys who are growing into good men. They both just lost their way a little due to his death, but they'll work out. That is such a much stronger and powerful message than Shiro secretly being their biodad.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Tiger Mabel is peak 👌👌 full grown she’d be the biggest cat in the Pines fam lol. Wouldn’t even take long before she’s too big for Stan to try and scruff and drag around, and turns the tables on dragging him around.

I was thinking for Dipper. It would be funny if he was like. A black-footed cat. They’re very tiny, being smaller than the average house cat, BUT ☝️they are technically wild cats. So I think it would be hilarious if they all think he’s just an exotic coat house cat for a while because kitten Dipper is baby tiny. Stan is so happy about this. He’s not the smallest anymore.

And then Ford looks into it and informs him that hey. Good news. Dipper will likely always be smaller than you. On another note, he’s actually a wild cat species.

Stan is just ☹️ on one hand things could’ve been worse for me. I could’ve been smaller like Dipper. On the other hand, why do I have to be a domestic house cat while everyone else gets to be wild cats? >:(

Oh well. At least he has his mom and nephew pines as house cat pals.

Alternatively. It would also be funny if Dipper was a domestic house cat, but one of the large cat breeds, like a maine coon or a ragdoll. The kind of house cats that can be like 15+ lbs. He goes from small kitten to large house cat, outgrowing Stan when he’s older.

Stan is very annoyed at once again being the smallest cat.

I like the tiny wild cat idea! It matches with how he and Mabel are similar to the older twins, but still fundamentally their own people.

Stan's also more of a homebody then the other three. He's the least likely to seek out adventure or mystery, only really doing so because of Ford. He still likes excitement, but more civilization based kinds then hiking in the wilderness looking for Bigfoot.

If Dipper grew up bigger then Stan I think it would break him. He'd sulk for weeks about it even Dipper was like, less than an inch taller.

Goes into his small cat corner and doesn't talk to anyone for like three days. Ford has to use his human hands and drag him out, then work with Mabel to cheer him up. It involves giving him a lot of bacon, snuggles, rides, and making Dipper crawl on the floor so Stan's still taller.

Thankfully I think neither twins human heights ever surpass the Stan's, so he still has that.

[mimpinightmare]

"Oh my Beloved Nerds~ My Shayla~"

I miss them

[mikibaby94]

Another Luaisy moment 💚🧡

I really enjoyed this scene from @krackaroo21 fic, I really just adore these scenes the Luaisy is just 👌😩 chefs kiss

This took longer than I thought it would, pretend like I could draw sunshine airport, I really tried 😭

Also look out for more fanart 😏

CRAVINGS

Close ups 👇

[zarstarss]

new hyperfixation character unlocked

[milla-frenchy]

Oh WOW. The emotions, this is pure perfection 👌😍😍😍

(let me tell you that I'm gonna keep sending you tiktoks if you bless us like that 😍) This is everything I love in a Javi fic: him haunted, unattainable. In need to forget, for a moment

And you did so good, bb 👌❤️

Javier Peña is a hard man to hold onto. He never stays in one place too long. Never lets anyone get too close. You’ve known that since the moment you met him.  But that doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door in the middle of the night, his knuckles rapping against the wood like he already knows you’ll let him in.  

These first paragraphs were already perfect. So him

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You could’ve called.”   He huffs a quiet laugh, but it’s humorless. “Didn’t think I needed to.”  

ughhhh how many hearts has this man broken? He would SO break mine too 😂🥲

It’s always like this. Heated, frantic, like he’s running from something. Like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Damn, Odi...

You break the kiss just enough to whisper, “Javi.”   He breathes against your skin, his lips dragging along your jaw, down your throat. “Don’t,” he murmurs. “Don’t say my name like that.”   Like you mean it. Like this means something.   But it does.   And you both know it.  

You're breaking my fn heart on a sunday morning wtffffff (I love it so much, please never stop ❤️)

Because Javi loves like he fights—reckless, desperate, and always ready to leave before the dust settles.

HOLY FUCK????

This is so brilliant. Such a perfect line OMG I think this is the most accurate sentence I've read about him, I'm speechless 👌🤌👏

Amazing fic baby 🙏❤️

Love me like a loaded gun

fuckbuddy!jJavier Peña x f!reader // 1.3k

There's things I wanna say to you but I'll just let you live. Like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did.There's things I wanna talk about but better not to give.

summary: Javier Peña is a man who never stays, but that doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, seeking solace in the only way he knows how.

-or-

my interpretation of Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey if it was a Javi fic

warnings: mdni, 18+, unprotected emotions, unprotected p in v, a lil fingering, a lot of angst

notes: this is the doings of this tiktok (which I suggest you watch the 23 seconds of it to get in your feels before reading) AND the song that was on the tiktok Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey and then I heard 2 Hands by Tate McRae and it was over for me. Thank you @milla-frenchy for doing what you did. Thank you @thundermartini my baby for reading this lil guy over for me and always hyping me up and cheerleading me with everything especially my moodboard crisis that seems to be never-ending.love you both so much 💖

masterlist

Javier Peña is a hard man to hold onto. He never stays in one place too long. Never lets anyone get too close. You’ve known that since the moment you met him. 

But that doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door in the middle of the night, his knuckles rapping against the wood like he already knows you’ll let him in.  

You shouldn’t.  

But you do.  

Javi steps inside without a word, the familiar scent of cigarettes and whiskey clinging to him, sinking into the space between you. He looks like he had a long night—tie loosened, hair a mess, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on his shoulders.  

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You could’ve called.”  

He huffs a quiet laugh, but it’s humorless. “Didn’t think I needed to.”  

He doesn’t. He never does. And that’s the problem.  

You watch him shrug off his jacket and take off his tie, tossing them over the back of the couch like he belongs here. Like this is just another night, another excuse, another way to forget whatever the hell’s been haunting him.  

Your stomach twists.  

“Mmm, guess not.” You say with a voice softer than you mean it to be.  

Javi looks at you—really looks. His dark eyes flicker with something unreadable, something caught between hunger and hesitation. He’s good at this game, at keeping his distance even when he’s got his hands all over you.  

You should tell him no. Should tell him that you’re done being the thing he comes to when he needs to bury the parts of himself he won’t face.  

But then he steps closer.  

“You want me to leave?” His voice is low, rough, but there’s something vulnerable under it, something he tries to hide.  

You could say yes. You should say yes.  

Instead, you reach for him.  

His lips crash against yours before you can even think, all teeth and desperation, almost angry, like he’s trying to take something from you—like he needs this more than he should. Your fingers slide into his hair, and he groans into your mouth, deep and ragged.  

Your fingers move down and twist into his shirt, holding on like you can stop him from slipping away. But he always does, in the end.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the heat of him through his clothes, through yours. You hate how easily your body reacts to him, how familiar this all is, how much you want him even when you know he won’t stay.  

It’s always like this. Heated, frantic, like he’s running from something. Like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You let him back you toward the bed, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

You break the kiss just enough to whisper, “Javi.”  

He breathes against your skin, his lips dragging along your jaw, down your throat. “Don’t,” he murmurs. “Don’t say my name like that.”  

Like you mean it. Like this means something.  

But it does.  

And you both know it.  

His hands slide under your shirt, rough fingertips against soft skin, and you shiver at the way he touches you—possessive, desperate, like he’s trying to brand himself into you. Like he wants to forget everything except the way you feel beneath him.  

Without a word, he grips the hem of your shirt and tugs it upward, his knuckles skimming along your sides as he peels it over your head. His eyes darken as he takes you in—bare skin, breathless anticipation, the way your chest rises and falls beneath his gaze.

His fingers find the clasp of your bra, unhooking it with a practiced ease. He pushes the straps from your shoulders, letting them slide down your arms before tossing it aside.

Javi’s hands are on you in an instant, palms rough against the softness of your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks.

You let him pull you down onto the sheets, let him hold you the way he only does in the dark. His hands are reverent, his mouth sinful, his body pressing into yours like he can carve himself into your bones. And you let him, because you need this too.

And he doesn't hold back.

Javi is all over you, his hands skimming down your stomach, pushing your pants and underwear off with the kind of urgency that makes your breath catch. His fingers brush against the heat between your legs, and he exhales sharply, like the feel of you alone is enough to unravel him.

"Always so fuckin' wet for me," he mutters against your throat, his voice rough, almost angry. The way his fingers stroke over you is anything but. It's worship. It's desperation. He spreads you open, a slow, teasing drag of his fingers before he slides one inside you.

Your back arches. "Javi—”

He cuts you off with his mouth, swallowing your moan as he works another finger inside you, curling them just right, like he knows your body better than his own. Maybe he does. Maybe that's why he keeps coming back.

His free hand grips your thigh, spreading you wider, keeping you in place like he needs you to stay right there—needs this to last. But it never does.

You reach for him, tugging at his belt, desperate for more, and he lets you, pushing his jeans down just enough to free himself. He’s already hard, already aching, the tip dragging through the slick between your thighs before he presses in, slow and deep.

Your head falls back, a whimper catching in your throat as he stretches you open, as your body takes him the way it always does. Like he belongs there. Like you were made for this.

Javi groans, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath ragged. "You feel so fuckin’ good."

His hips start to move, slow at first, deep, like he wants to drag it out, like he wants to feel every inch of you. But then your fingers dig into his back, your nails biting into his skin, and something in him snaps.

He thrusts harder, deeper, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. You cling to him, gasping his name, and he hates it, hates the way it makes something crack open inside him, so he kisses you rough and messy, like he can make you forget what you just said.

You don’t.

And neither does he.

It’s fast and desperate, a little too rough, a little too much, like you’re both trying to take something from each other that neither of you can really give.

But right now, it’s enough.

For a moment, it feels like he’s yours.

For a moment, you can pretend.

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit, dragging you closer to the edge, until you're falling, unraveling beneath him. You cry out, your body tightening around him, and Javi follows right after, a shuddering groan pressed into your skin as he spills inside you.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Heavy breathing. The warmth of his body still pressed against yours.

Then, like always, the moment starts to slip away.

Javi pulls out too soon. Rolls onto his back. And when you glance at him, when you see the way he stares at the ceiling like he’s already somewhere else, the ache in your chest spreads like wildfire.

You don’t ask him to stay. You don’t ask what this is or what it could be.

And he doesn’t offer, doesn't pretend this is anything more. 

Because Javi loves like he fights—reckless, desperate, and always ready to leave before the dust settles.

And you let him.

Even when it breaks you.

[greykolla-art]

“I’m a SHARK-” said Alastor the deer demon, “because it’s a good metaphor!’

(NO I will not do a part 2!💕)

[counting-stars-gayly]

I’m actually LOVING how Rick Riordan, and the other writers of the show, took his initial concept of a Percabeth rivalry fueled by that of their parents and kind of turned it on its head?

Now, instead of Annabeth being wary of Percy because he’s a son of Poseidon, he’s wary of her because she made a callous impression on him. They get off to a rocky start even before finding out who Percy’s father is, and when they finally do, Annabeth doesn’t care. Instead of them fighting because of who their parents are, they’re fighting over their own opposed worldviews.

Then, instead of them arguing over which of the gods is cooler and who was right in the story of Medusa, they realize that, just like Medusa, Annabeth is a victim of her mother and that, unlike Medusa, she is a far kinder and stronger person, unwilling to repeat the cycle of hurt. They realize that, like his father, Percy often acts without considering potential consequences and that, unlike his father, he is a far kinder and stronger person, willing to step up for someone he wronged and whom he cares about.

Instead of Percy and Annabeth’s rivalry being focused on that of their parents, it’s focused on who they are, themselves. But the path to friendship is still the same: a realization that they have each other’s backs, no matter what, because they’re not their parents after all.