#SHARK AND I COLLABING AGAIN

[angstandhappiness]

SO PRETTY

This is what you call a honeymoon? Pacing around our separate rooms Running from our elaborate ruse We're doomed (Macaque) Please, forgive me, your grace (your grace) Can't even look me in my face And now I must lie in the mess you made? (The mess we made) No, I stole your fate (I don't understand) And now you're forced to love a man you hate (Wukong) I know you don't feel the same But I burn for you You burn for me? (I burn) I burn (I burn) (I burn) I burn for you

me and shark (@ninjasmudge) did a thing

[frankieunscripted]

My reasons to hate Drake

First things first, I'm the reales- wait, wrong theme. First of all, I would like to say this is NOT an unbiased recap, this is literally just me listing things I've hated about Drake for years. You might as well join in on the hate train. Go watch some YouTube video essays on this if you wanna know more!!! You'll find plentyyyy

Certified Pedophile ("allegedly"): Texting teen girls until they're of age and then go and date them. ew.

Cosplay Gangsta: disrespecting the culture as a whole, but especially what hiphop is about. Flexing money, cars, girls, drugs, clothes bc he never understood hiphop was never about flexing, but about being heard bc you're oppressed, about revolution. Now we got his die-hard fans running around acting like this is true rap. no. "You don't know nun bout dat!"

Culture Vulture: jumping from trend to trend in order to make it "his own", faking accents that he has no business playing with and dropping them as soon as he's done with this specific type of genre bc it's not trendy anymore. Adapting whole "personas" around this, instead of just merely collabing with other artists. Jamaican and African accents are just 2 examples here.

Blackness: Drake never really got out of his acting career. Back on DeGrassi he was acting as a high school jock. Now he's acting like a tough black guy who's from the streets and knows what it's like to be down bad, when this was never his life. Lil Wayne warned him to never change and act tough just bc he would sign to Weezy's label where the rappers were predominantly "gangsta type dudes". And what did Drizzy do? He's acting all tough and "outta dem streets". He's clearly overcompensating for not feeling black enough (I've already reblogged 2 posts about this, pls see these for further context). Drake's mad for not being referred to as a rapper who speaks on being black, when in reality the black experience was never of topic in any of his songs. He also doesn't give back to the community.

Lil Wayne: Drake had relations with fellow rapper Lil Wayne's gf (she actually was of age, ayoooo!) while Wayne was away in prison. Wayne got word of the fact his gf was cheating on him with the young guy he signed under his label and was pissed. Drake, in an effort to smooth out the situation, got Wayne's face tattooed on his arm. Say what you will about portrait tattoos, but this story is just so fucking typical Drake. How the fuck do you think this is gonna help anyone?

Validation: Drake donates money in the music video for God's Plan, only to earn more money with that video/song than he donated in the first place. He felt good about donating and then never did that shit again.

Numbers: As a great man once said: "Crack fiends bought 10 million rocks, that don't mean it's good. It don't mean nothing." (As you can imagine, that man was 2Pac). And with that I say that proving your worth in the industry by numbers don't mean a lot. It means you and your team figured out the market and started producing stupid, vapid, but terribly long albums to maximize streaming numbers, automatically bumping up your place in the industry. This is about quantity, not quality - good rap/ hiphop was never about that. Drake actively validates his music and status with his fame, money and streams and neither him nor his fans seem to get that says nothing about the artistic value of his music. "Numbers lie too, fuck your pride, too!" (I mean really, Baby Shark has 14 Billion views on YouTube - you think that's REAL artistry, Mister Aubrey?)

Cocky Ass Bitch: I would be okay with a lot of his music if Drake just knew his fucking place. He went pop ages ago, but still people (including himself) refer to him as a rapper - no even, as THE rapper, placing him in the Top 3. Sometimes I feel like y'all do this, just to piss me off personally. Apart from everything else wrong with Drake, there's nothing wrong with liking music like his persé. Not everyone likes conscious/ deep stuff and sometimes, when you with the homies, you just wanna chill and listen to something "mindless" - MIND you, I'm not looking down on "non-conscious" rap, I'm just saying not every artist has to be woke/ deep all the time and some "empty" party anthem about girls, fashion, cars and alcoholism is fun at times. These party anthems deserve their place. And a child actor turned rapper turned POP STAR is valid in my books - just not if it's Drake. Apropos cockiness: The dude compares himself multiple times to Michael Jackson and while that got a few good lines out of him, I believe it's close to fucking blasphemy. Drake and MJ on the same pedastal. I mean sure, questionable stuff happening with kids, both of them wildly successful in their industry (mind you, streaming like today wasn't around back then and many of the numbers cannot be compared), but one of them a real talent and the other one some guy who more or less made it as an industry plant. "I can dance like Michael Jackson? / I'd argue your skills really lack, son!" (okay sorry, I know, that was corny as fuck xD) Dude is flexing with numbers instead of poetic abilities -

About the art itself:

Ghostwriters: "What poetic abilities?", I hear you ask - Yeah, don't think I forgot! Best believe I been cooking this one. There's evidence for Drake having ghostwriters - which on its own is fine, don't believe every star writes every single bar on their own. My problem with this is, that Drake keeps his cocky attitude, even though many of his hits aren't really Aubrey-written and also many ghostwriters never get their credit (this is why they're called "ghostwriters", I know that this is not something specific to Drake, but slapping one more name on the credits ain't that hard, when you're worth a billion bucks already). This is the rap equivalent of flexing your homework when you know DAMN WELL copied it off of your best friend and did nothing for that success. I guess his song Right Hand wasn't about a romantic interested after all, but the dudes who been writing it!

STOLEN SHIT: Why in hell is no one mentioning this on here? Drake is KNOWN for stealing other artists' verse metres (referred to as "flows", y'all tumblr, idk how much you guys do know, okay?), melodies, whole beats, samples or verses in general. In no other studio would you see mentions of a "reference track" concerning songwriting. They take a song as reference and build around it as they construct a beat. There's PLENTY of evidence for this happening, one story really had me baffled, where a young indie-rapper met Drake in the early 2010s, gave him his CD to listen to and a whopping 5 years later the indie-rapper realizes Drake just fucking stole his entire song (a really personal one at that) on his latest album back then. Being indie, of course the guy had little to no means of fighting back with lawyers or anything, man's was working a 9to5 job and had other stuff going on. Before you wanna argue with me though: YES. There is a difference between stealing and paying hommage. One famous example is Drake biting Eminem's Superman flow on Chicago Freestyle: "But I do know one thing though/ Bitches, they come, they go/ Saturday through Sunday, Monday / Monday through Sunday, yo/ Maybe I'll love you one day/ Maybe we'll someday grow". The only good thing Drake ever did was changing Em's "Bitches" to "Women" on his song. Other than that: exact same few bars. This is a hommage. Why? Because Eminem, that's why. You can pay hommage to great, well-known artists with good bars. It takes a common ground of knowledge from artist to audience to make a hommage like this work. That can go well. Kendrick copies the flow of a Kanye West song on HiiiPower and it works just fine because you listen to either of the song and think: "Ah yeah exactly, that one part, okay, I see you." You don't pay hommage to a small, unknown, indie-rapper by copying his whole verse about his Mom, when you would never say stuff like that on your records before. You don't, because it wouldn't work. None of your listeners would understand the innuendo at all, because no one ever heard of the "great guy you'd be paying hommage to". So shut up.

Music: It's just not that good. Like yeah, he had a few bangers, but let's not exaggerate. Artistically Drake does not offer anything. If he ever did, he probably left all of that on the first few albums he still rapped on. His delivery sucks, his singing voice sounds like he's tryna be The Weeknd at times but isn't. The lyrics aren't special. What the fuck?

Euphoria: Even before getting deeper into hiphop, I've always hated the way Drake presents himself. When Kendrick said: "I hate the way that you walk, talk, dress" I felt that. I hate the way he "raps", the way he drags his words, the way he laughs, the way he "sings". Just a whole lotta shit I dislike about the guy.

Sneak Dissing: If you want beef then get in line, don't just kinda allude to it, you weak ass bitch

SENSITIVE ASS BITCH: I love a man who's in tune with his feelings but Drake being the cosplaying gangsta clown he is, acts like he's all tough when in reality, you can't really say shit to him, cause he "can't let this shit slide, ay".

Kendrick's Control Verse drops - a verse calling out multiple rappers saying Kendrick will come for them in friendly competition for the crown of being the best. Drake was mentioned. Everyone thinks it's kinda cool and goes along. Drake is mad. In an interview he basically said he found it fake because the next time he saw Kendrick "it was all love" and that he wanted it "to be real. Let it be real then". Okay crodie, next time you get called out in a fair rap competition, best believe I'll sock you in your fucking throat, I gotchu.

The Weeknd doesn't sign to Drake's label OVO after working with Drake for a while. Drake is mad again and feels betrayed. Why you gotta be like this?

Kendrick says that he doesn't wanna collab with Drake because their music is too different, not because of anything personal. He just doesn't see it happen in the near future because it would not match artistically. Drake gets mad.

Drake stopped beefing with Pusha T back in the day. Probably because he exposed his son. But still, if you want beef, then clean up your plate, bc you eat what you order and dont't just start to "let this shit slide, ay"

("allegedly") being involved in XXXTentacion's passing back in 2018 over beef. This beef started because of the flow of X's popular song Look at Me!, which Drake stole shortly after letting X know his management would contact him about a possible collab. As you can imagine, X was never contacted by Drake's people. The kid was 20 years old, man. He said some outrageous shit at times, but no one deserves to go out like he did.

Also, the famous DMX ("Y'all gon make me lose my mind!") once said in an interview that he'd like to punch Drake in the face and I support that. Kendrick and his homies laughed at the clip - as did everybody else, cause it's hilarious if a beast and a legend of hiphop hates Drake. Drake was mad at Kendrick laughing about it and not taking it seriously. What did he expect? Should Kendrick have went after DMX and made him apologize for what he said about lil Aubrey? How old are you? 5?

Drake gets mad at a lot of shit - bottom line. I could go on and on, but I've been writing this for hours, it's half past 3 am and I wanna sleep after uni and work, y'all.

DURING THE DISS-ERTATION: this section is about shit Drake did during the beef with Kendrick.

Saying Kendrick's Like That verse was weak af. That's your core response? Someone flames you and people are already throwing ass to the mere sound of it and you think: "Huh, that sucked anyway." Pathetic.

Calling Kendrick short (over and over and over again) as if his height is under his control/ his fault? - as if that takes way from Kendrick's skill, Kendrick's allegations againt Drake! - as if that means ANYTHING AT ALL to people over the age of like... 12?

Going after anybody's family in the first place. I know nothing is really "off-limits" in a rap battle like this, but please have the fucking decency. Don't mention my Momma, my kids, my dog, my fam, my friends who ain't got nothing to do with the fact that I hate you. I will say I am not proud of Kendrick for getting down on that level himself - but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Meet The Grahams and the sheer panic it induced. And sometimes I gotta be a little childish and yell "But Aubrey started ittt!"

Hitting on Whitney in The Heart Part 6. Don't go for another man's treasure, you absolute dog. Accusing Whitney of being unfaithful. My friend, this beef is about us (the Culture) hating you and the things you do. Stop trying to shift this into something it is not.

Reacting to diss tracks via instagram stories and memes, like he's that one popular girl in 7th grade who's gotta clap back to something someone said in school on her IG. Shut up.

Calling The Weeknd and his manager gay. Are we not over homophobia yet? Being queer is not an insult. Also falsely "accusing" people of being gay is uncool as fuck - but oh "You don't know nun bout dat!" bc false accusations are basically everything you do - and also possibly outing someone like that is fucking hurtful as shit. I know the people involved are probably not queer at all, but if they were - period.

Using AI in a song at all. Drake, you already proved you suck. Don't force it down our throats. What part of you thought it would make you look good? What part said it would be good to do in a diss track, when the world knows diss tracks are even more a show of capability than other songs. Nah, you go and use AI. Idc about your "mind games": Using AI Snoop Dogg is just weird as fuck cause the Doggy is still well and alive - if you want him to feature on your song, call the legend and ask hi- oh wait, you knew he woulda said "Aww hell nah!" cause everyone hates you? Huh. Snoop probably woke up one day, hit a blunt and asked "When the FUCK did I collab with Drake?". Anyway, using AI 2Pac is straight up disrespectful, when you know damn well the guy would've hated you if he knew who you'd become. Just doing this because it's 2Pac, because you can and not even asking for permission of Pac's people is crazy. Glad the shit was taken down anyways.

The 8 Mile "Airing Out Your Dirty Laundry"-Trick before the big battle does NOT invalidate future claims on you diddling kids. No. Not even if 2Pac says it first. Nah.

His Damage Control Effort in post to make it seem like/make us believe that he's in control, when Kendrick has been bodying him is hilariously embarrassing. Anyone can claim the mole was fake "all along" after it happened.

Making fun of Kendrick for his verse on Taylor Swift's Bad Blood is just stupid. Look at all the features Drake does. Rihanna, BadBunny, DJ Khaled, Future, PartyNextDoor, Lil Wayne, Diddy, Nicki Minaj, Wizkid, ..... the list is so fucking long (I'm just picking at random songs at this point, cause I do not want my browser/spotify history to be associated with Drake's music. I don't wanna go out of my way to say he NEEDS these people to stay relevant but let's face it: His discography and his success would be different if it weren't for them

Acting like he's so great for "finally making Kendrick rap again" - Sir, you don't write your shit on your own, stfu. You don't invest time and effort into your vapid albums. YOU should be thankful for Kendrick destryoing you, giving us the best few lines out of you in a long time.

Not addressing important shit. We been over the allegations, I will not repeat them in this post cause this is already long enough. BUT y'all on the same page as me, aight? Instead of addressing EVERYTHING, he just responds with diss tracks that aren't terrible but really not THAT good, yk? Not going into the shit that we want to se addressed.

Acting like disstracks need replay value. Idk if this is a Drake or a fanbase problem, but people really act like Drake's tracks were better, bc you can listen to them more casually. "Kendrick basically made a whole song about Drake" - THIS IS WHAT A DISS TRACK SHOULD BE! Notice how we don't call every song containing a diss immediately a "diss track"? That's why. Diss tracks were meant to hit your opponent in the stomach with witty bars, double entendres, nice delivery and good production. Diss tracks weren't meant to be club bangers - bonus if they do end up being some though, looking at you, Like That and Not Like Us.

Not reading into stuff properly or just not listening. This is a small one, but ngl I hate the fact they got the Mother I Sober reference wrong (The song is NOT about Kendrick being abused, BUT about Kendrick not being abused and his Mom NOT believing him and passing her sa trauma onto him, even though he didn't experience that). Also Kendrick explicitly says "DOT, the money, power, respect / The last one is better" on Like That and Drakes response (again) is "Huh, I have way more money than you and in the industry, I'm way more powerful than you. Also, you so short tihhihi." BITCH he SAID respect was the most important of the three and you disrespect him, not by calling him out by his wrong doings but by picking on physical features the man cannot change like a 5th grade bully.

Anyways. phew. If you made it this far... wow. I'm impressed. I'll keep updating this. Thanks for coming to my beef talk.

EDIT: Thank y'all for the positive reactions on this post. If you seek more info/ want me to further explain stuff/ have even more dirt on Drake, let me know and we can work something out. -Frankie out

[fanaticsnail]

"Someone. Someone Help Me."

Word Count: 531 - Sanji Pollen Drabble

Masterlist here, Pollen Masterlist here

@gingernut1314 tagged me a while ago to release a snippet of writing for WIP Wednesday. Only issue is, when I get writing: I can't bring myself to stop until it's completed. Like a shark with blood in the water, a cat being coaxed with a piece of smoked salmon, or more like a Snail with the temptation of a crispy slice of lettuce. So, I present this drabble as my small gift to you, dear. This is a small snippet of a collab piece @sordidmusings and I dreamed up a few nights ago - This portion of it being solely Sanji. The larger plot may include this portion as a break away from the main pairing to be disclosed later.

Warnings: Pollen!Sanji, MDNI, Sanji has inhaled pollen, Sanji can't relieve himself, Edging, Crying, Whimpering, Begging, rutting, Solo!Sanji.

Minors, this is not meant for you.

Part 2 Here.

Within the vacant halls of the quiet ship, Sanji was struggling to deal with a foreign issue he had found for himself. He only breathed in a small amount of the dust falling from the soft, white and yellow leaves: rendering himself completely in shock and desperation

He was clutching at himself, fisting his cock hard and fast with a sense of panic falling from him in waves. Although he had reached the peak of climax three times, he was unable to spill himself over the edge. For the first time in his life, Sanji was unable to pleasure himself to the point of spilling his hot cum over his thumb and into an awaiting, silken paper tissue. 

Oils, moisturizer - he even spat on himself - nothing was working. His spit even seemed to make his situation more dire, the taint of white and yellow pollen on his saliva making the veins on the underside of his cock fill even more with desire and pulsating blood. His shined, red, glistening tip of his cock was leaking with pearls of translucent pre-cum as he continued to pump himself desperately. 

He had tried so many positions: rutting into his palm down onto the mattress below him with the rough snap of his hips, sitting on the edge of his bed and pulling at only the tip, falling onto his knees on the wooden floorboards below him, lying on his back and feeling the coolness of the floor sooth his burning skin while he used one hand to circle the girth of his cock and the other squeezing the exposed tip.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, was working. He needed more. Something more that he couldn’t provide for himself. He climbed back onto the mattress and lied on his back, starting up the pace once more to drag his way towards the finish line again. 

Gasps, moans, groans and cries were not silenced, even with him clapping his unused hand over his mouth as he desperately brought himself to the edge of another orgasm; yet having it fall away as he continued to chase it harder with his hand. 

Sweat pooling at his temple, his jaw clamped like a vice, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as hot tears trickled down his cheeks. 

Whimpers, groans, hisses and stuttering breaths propelling him on to keep beating himself within his closed fist. Trickling out of the corners of his eyes, he began to desperately sob harder. He was being held hostage by his inability to climax, his tears falling freely from his eyes. His lips opened wide to reveal stringy and desperate dribbles of spit over his lips and into his palm, his eyes glazed and pupils blown. 

"S-Someone. Someone h-help me" he cried, his heart beating desperately hard against his ribcage. His sniffles, sobs and whimpers alerted none to his current predicament; the remainder of the crew pursuing their own interests away from the kitchen and crew quarters.

“P-Please,” he whimpered, his hot tears of frustration falling to join the drips of sweat pouring from his hairline, down his temple and onto the soft pillowcase below him, “Please. I’m begging. P-Please, I-I can’t do this anymore.”

[hxzxrdous]

Note: The following fic is a collab with @cissyenthusiast010155 She is an insanely talented writer and she's extremely kind and an amazing person. Thank you, babes, for getting me out of my writing slump. 🧡🫶

The School For Good and Evil

Platonic Lady Lesso x Never!reader

TW: None

UNWAVERING SYMPATHY

As the Monday morning sun slowly crept into the dormitory, you stirred in discomfort. Fatigue weighed upon you, amplified by your disdain for Mondays. Your dreaded shark week had arrived, just yesterday evening, leaving you in agony and pain.

Comfortably nestled in your bed, you contemplated rising for the day, it was barely 5am, so you could easily go back to sleep for another two hours. But your eyes widened as you felt it. You quickly stood up, turning on the light on the bedside table... There was a blood stain on the sheet. Panic surged as you looked down at your pajama, feeling the trickle down your leg, staining even your socks and slippers. You would've cried if you weren't in so much pain.

With a lantern in hand, you hurriedly gathered fresh clothes and a towel, making your way to the dormitory's shared bathroom, tiptoeing across creaky wooden floors to avoid waking your fellow Nevers. A warm bath offered a brief comfort, a hopeful start to a smoother day. Returning to the dorm, you cleansed the stained floor and changed the sheets before slipping into the first lecture, albeit slightly late. You entered just after the roll call.

"Y/LN..." The dean, Lady Lesso looked up from her parchment of names. "I don't recall you being on my attendance sheet..." Her voice was stern as her grey eyes continued to rest on you.

"I- I overslept, ma'am," you answered quietly. "I apologize, it won't happen again," you added.

The dean eyed you for a moment longer before returning to the attendance sheet. The room remained silent as she marked things down on her sheet with a frown.

"You may sit." Lady Lesso pointed to one of the desks with her cane.

Lady Lesso was walking around the classroom, waving around with her cane as she talked. As the lecture progressed, your cramps intensified, distracting you from the professor’s teachings.

You watched the fellow Nevers. Today you felt like they were more annoying than ever. Especially Hort and his single werewolf hair. You looked at Hort who was sitting next to your desk. His werewolf hair, triggering a sneeze from you. It happened again. You felt the leak through the pad. Soon, the bell rang and Lesso dismissed the class with her cane. The students hurried out of the classroom, all except for you as you remained seated behind your desk.

Lady Lesso continued to walk around the classroom once all students had left, looking at you, the lone student who had stayed behind. Her eyes narrowed.

"You," her voice was firm as she pointed with her cane at you, "stand up."

"I- I can't... ma'am," you replied quietly, your cheeks turning red.

"What?" A scowl appeared on the dean's face as she raised a brow at you. "I didn't stutter, I said stand up," she tapped her cane on the floor, waiting for you to obey.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

You carefully and slowly stood up, feeling the familiar gush once again. Now your blushed cheeks turned pale immediately. You looked down, another pair of your pants ruined. You would run to the bathroom if you wouldn't be so frozen from fear as Lesso watched you like a hawk.

This was more than enough to get her to lose her temper as the dean stomped to you. She was just trying to figure out what the matter was, but you were completely quiet. Her impatience boiled over as she grasped your shoulders, demanding an explanation forcing you to look her in the eyes.

"Well what is it? Cat got your tongue?" There were no other students around so she didn't need to be polite, not like the woman was ever polite.

"I know it's not like you're shy enough to simply be mute. So what's the matter? Do you need to use the bathroom?"

There was a moment of silence between you two as you were standing there, frozen... And your cheeks lost what color they had. Lesso's face went from confusion to mild curiosity as she stared at the stained seat...

"Yes, please," you replied.

The dean's eyes lit up with a mild shock as it finally hit her what you were going through.

How could she have been so ignorant…

Her face softened almost instantly when you finally admitted that you needed to go to the bathroom.

If the dean knew you were having your cycle then she would have been a bit more tactful than she initially presented. She understood that this was a very hard stage of life of being a girl, not just going through teenage angst but going through puberty too.

Lady Lesso sighed and turned her head towards the exit.

“You are dismissed.”

You nodded timidly and began for the door, but the woman stopped you.

"Before you go, Y/LN... You're free for the rest of the class today. Come to my office later when you'll have the time, I'll make you some tea." Lady Lesso said softly, sounding almost as if the woman cared.

Lady Lesso waited in her office for you, two cups of chamomile tea waiting on the desk. You entered, sitting down, your head hung low as Lady Lesso was rummaging through the closet in the back.

"Y/N... Clarissa Dovey once gifted me a blanket. It's enchanted so it helps with alleviating the pain and decreasing the... flow... I believe you need it more than me." Lady Lesso replied softly, walking towards you, kneeling down, putting the blanket on your lap.

"Th..thank you ma'am..." you said as you accepted the blanket that Lady Lesso had given to you, wrapping it around yourself to help with the cramps that always seemed to happen at the worst time. It seemed to work immediately and you snuggled up to the heat it provided, inhaling the lavender scent that came from the blanket.

"I can see you're tired. Off you go back to your dorm and take some rest. If you have any more trouble, don't hesitate to come to my office," the dean said.

"Yes ma'am," you said as you got up to leave, wrapped in your new lavender-scented blanket. "And thank you, again ma’am," you added before making your exit from the dean's office.

[pikatsum]

high tide (came and brought you in) - chapter one.

summary: you’d originally rescued the injured merman out of kindness, and perhaps a healthy undercurrent of fear of what others in your town might do to the creature. the last thing you ever expected after returning him to the sea, was for him to try to stay.

tags: afab reader, merfolk, mention of explicitly-inhumane fishing practices.

this fic is a part of the teahouse collab, on discord!

A hunting party had left port, yesterday.

It was made up of the usual kind of tourist, you gathered, overhearing the neighborhood gossip on the sandy, well-trodden path into town. It was made up of a bunch of trigger-happy business students, likely bored with another year of academia and looking for something visceral. Looking to harm in a way that was sanctioned— even celebrated, in some corners of your seaside town. Doubtlessly, they were after the biggest creatures they could catch: sharks, dolphins, or something even more dangerous. Most of those you passed seem to believe that they’d be headed to the outer reefs.

This year, the annual merfolk migration had come early. You had heard through the grapevine that some of the offshore boats had begun to radio in with the usual signs: faulty sonar, empty traps and a general sense of unease, the closer they got to the outer-lying reefs, where multitudes of traveling pods made their temporary homes. Anyone with sense usually knew to stay far away from merfolk-territory, no matter how temporary their stay.

But now that that the sudden departure of the town’s gaudiest fishermen had combined with this news, it was collectively generating more rumor than Baralou Island had handled in months. As the path transitioned to craggy, uneven sidewalk, you still heard people on their porches, gossiping about what could’ve drawn the group’s attention so suddenly. Perhaps it was one of the cartload of technological additions that they’d constantly been wheeling up onto the sleek convertible boat they’d rented. You’d already had to duck through their large group by the harbor yesterday, and through the small crowds that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.

One of their number had been particularly boastful, perched at the top of the gangplank. His cerulean hair almost blinding in the sun, you’d heard him claim that he possessed the skill to capture merfolk— “I could snag a whole pod, in a single net!” — Anywhere else, those statements would’ve warned a call to the coast guard, if not the police. On Baralou, however, it was met with scattered applause and a single wolf-whistle.

Anti-merfolk sentiment always reached a peak in the summertime. The reason always varied: a lesser catch of fish that year, an increase in hurricane warnings. Merfolk— intelligent, powerful and little-understood— made the perfect scapegoats. With the early arrival of their annual migration, it was the opinion of some locals that the large pods passing through the reefs of the island were choking out the tourism industry. Never mind the fact that it was barely the start of summer, and the migration never lasted longer than a month. Nothing got people riled up like the notion of losing out on their most important source of income.

As a former resident, you knew that Baralou took great, and often dubiously-legal pains to advertise itself as having the “safest beaches in the world.” Entire books recounted years worth of fishing competitions with consistently high numbers of so-called “incidental harm” to merfolk. When taking these years’ worth of torment and fear tactics into account, it was little wonder that no mer would dare cross the reefs near the island, these days.

As a teenager, you too had sworn you would never come back to the island again— though this was more to do with Baralou’s pitifully-tiny size outside of tourist season, and the maddening frustration of growing up amongst the same faces you’d seen since nursery school. Nearing the end of your college career has reignited that passion to stay away— but unfortunately, your budget wasn’t quite in agreement with those plans. A summer of housesitting for your aunt and uncle, as well as your waitstaff position at one of Baralou’s many dockside restaurants would ideally give you enough to leave for good, come the fall.

Although you could barely wait to repack your overflowing suitcases, your first weeks back home had reminded you that not everything here was abjectly awful. Your expression lightened once you’d ordered from your usual café, turning to find an outside table already occupied with your favorite resident.

Camie Utshushimi wasted no time in shattering your hopes for normalcy.

“I heard—“ she began in a low voice, as you seated yourself, “—that somebody on the south-side offered to guide the business yuppies to a huge mer pod.”

You exhaled your disapproval over a warm mug of tea.

“That’s gotta be a scam. Even if they wanted to go out there, those reefs are nationally-protected. The fines alone would keep anybody away.”

“Babes, you know as well as I do that won’t stop them.”

“Even if they make it—” you retorted, “—I highly doubt a mer from these parts would be so easily caught, especially by that group.”

Camie at least seemed to take that point into consideration, a brief smile playing at her lips. She took a slow sip of coffee, her warm brown eyes pensively scanning the water.

“If anything, they’ll snag a nesting sea turtle, or a manatee that got washed in by mistake. The poor thing.” still you frowned, considering, “I hope they come back with nothing. But with all that fancy gear…”

This seemed to shake Camie out of her reverie, turning from the sea with a dismissive click of her tongue.

“Nah, Inasa already gave me the deets— that’s all rented. Fat chance they know how to use all of it.”

“Are you sure?” your lower lip worried anxiously, under your teeth.

Despite her agreeable chirp, you knew by the actual look in her eyes that she couldn’t be fully certain. You both finished your drinks in uneasy silence.

Camie was always amongst the island’s earliest risers, which meshed well with you. Shame that she had a social calendar more tightly packed than a visiting royal— she was never available in the evenings, no matter how many nights you tried to invite her to join you at the beach bars. Regardless, she was your closest friend on the island, and if these short moments outside the cobblestone cafe were what you had with her each morning, it was something you were grateful for.

On your way home, you cut back through the fishing harbor— at least, until you were stopped by a growing crowd. You couldn’t make out what was going on amongst their fluctuating number, but with everyone talking and the piercing beep of a large convertible boat backing in along the docks, you could only assume the town’s ‘conquering heroes’ had finally returned. Disgusted, you gave up your gawking and diverted to walk along the craggy shoreline for the last half-mile, back towards your borrowed home.

Most beachgoers preferred the island’s largest offerings, located just outside the shopping district at the other end of the island. These days, you preferred this semi-deserted spit of sand, despite the high tide forcing you to walk through the shallows for most of the way home.

Your weak earbuds were cranked to the max, but still did little against the crash of the waves. Slowly, you picked your way through a bed of oyster shells— even if any accidental cuts would be soothed in an instant, once the saltwater raced over your feet, again. At last, you reached the end of the shell bed, picking up the pace as the wind pushed insistently at you, spraying sand into your face and forcing you to stop, until it calmed.

Your podcast faded to ringing static in your ears when you spotted the torn fishing net, lying ahead.

Its edges had gouged deep into the sand— and, as it was so close to the shoreline itself, the waves that followed had buried them under more silt, throughly entrapping it. It was doubtlessly lost from the harbor. Was that the source of the commotion you’d missed? But, more horrifying than its condition (so tangled up on itself that it resembled a massive bunch of seaweed) or location, far from the fishing harbor, was the fact that it was moving.

Fear coursed through your veins. You needed to call some kind of authority. There should be a phone number at the prior beach access for the wildlife conservatory, if you could just get back to it. You’d have to go back over the oyster bed, but if something was still alive in that monstrosity, there wasn’t much choice to make. You’d taken all of two steps back, preparing yourself for the pain, when an odd sound rose in the lull of the tide. You tore out your cheap earbuds and strained to listen.

The sound that followed defied explanation. You’d never heard anything close to it. The only comparative experience you could draw from was mourning. A harsh, desperate cry, from something that was quite literally on its last hope.

The next thing you knew, your hands were plunging into damp tangles of rope. You cursed as it slid from your hands, as you first tried to wrench it apart, and then upwards— but of course, its moorings were stuck fast. It vaguely occurred that you had absolutely no idea what you were attempting to unearth, but the thought was quickly forgotten. Whatever this was, you could hear breathing from within the mass— shaky, ragged, and quick. You didn’t have much time.

And so, you turned instead to the edges themselves. You plunged your hands into the wet sand and dug as fast as you could. Fortunately, the fasteners weren’t buried too deeply. It didn’t take long for you to pry one up, and then another, the raspy catch of breathing serving as an inefficient and rapidly-dwindling timer. Your fingers burned. Your arms ached. And yet, you continued to tear at the bindings, tugging at the base of the netting until you could finally start to pry up a corner.

You‘a heard of hysterical strength before, but you’d never truly acknowledged the sensation until the soaked, dripping netting was held high above your head. Very quickly, those considerations vanished entirely at the sight of the form underneath.

A pair of bright dichromatic eyes blinked at you through the gloom. The moment would be almost ethereal, if their owner wasn’t literally heaving for breath, both arms stuck akimbo in the holes of the netting. You gave voice to the only thought that actually made sense in this situation.

“…What the hell…?”

Your arms burned from the sopping weight of the net. Water and damp pieces of seaweed were falling on the both of you. With a grunt of effort, you finally stepped forward and chucked the excess portion backwards, before you immediately knelt to loosen the remaining bindings.

The man— not human, not fully, your brain warned— almost immediately began to thrash, displacing a spray of water between you as the tide came in. You bit back a yelp, but repressed the urge to flinch, caught up by the look on his face.

Whatever he was or wasn’t, you knew he was afraid.

You couldn’t be sure if he would understand, as you raised your hands, palms out. Was there really such a thing as a universal sight of surrender? Although your next movement forward earned a flash of sharp teeth, he didn’t move against you. With that, your hands returned to the net, and you set to work untangling it from his body.

You stared down at your hands as you worked, pulse thrumming in your ears. Outside of them, you couldn’t feel anything, outside the numbing sting of adrenaline. Because of that, your motor control was tenuous at best— all you could do was continue working at the net. Heart in your mouth, you snuck another glance up, to confirm your suspicions. Sharp teeth. Bright eyes. Fins, twitching and alert, where ears would be.

If anyone else happened upon your rescue of a beached merman, you would be in very serious trouble.

You re-doubled your efforts, trying to get him loose, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to grab something sharp—

—oh, wait.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow—!”

One painstaking pick-over of the oyster graveyard later and you had yourself a prime specimen. You’d exchanged a fair bit of blood to the sand, but that was neither here nor there. You half-ran, half-limped back to the fallen net, makeshift tool held high and set to work, ignoring the latest attempt to swipe at you. This particular shell had sliced open the ball of your foot, so, soon enough, it had started a tear into the tangled net.

The merman didn’t seem to appreciate your ingenuity. You’d barely gotten his right arm free before he was using it to grab onto yours, tugging you forwards as his other, bound arm tried to gesture to his throat.

“Wait—!” you panicked at the strength of his grip, “I’m getting your other arm out, just breathe—!”

A feeling like ice water ran down your spine.

“….Can’t…”

“You ca—?” you’d barely gotten through the repetition before you saw the small slits in his throat, gaping and closing frantically.

You had no idea how long the mer had been breathing above-water, but those rattling wheezes sounded like he was reaching his limit.

“Oh, shit— hold on!”

You cut through the last binding of his left arm and began to feverishly hack away at the snarled mass behind him. It wasn’t long before the shimmer of scales became apparent through the remaining bindings. You couldn’t think much about the full magnitude of what all you had uncovered— how could he speak? — because the merman in question could barely breathe at all. The small gasps of air he managed to draw seemed more like hiccups.

With no time to spare, you dragged whatever remained of the net backwards, wincing as a massive number of koi-like scales were caught and sloughed off in your haste. Supposedly the merman would sooner be alive than care about the finer details of his appearance.

The net had barely dropped before his powerful tail slammed down into the surface of the wet sand— sending fragments of it splashing back over you. You took a few steps back as the merman— tail uselessly trying to propel him forwards— was forced to use an approximation of an army-crawl to get towards the shallows.

Without the snarled ropes in the way, you only saw the injuries left behind. A multitude of bruising and deep scratches marred his back, some still sluggishly-bleeding. There was a long gouge of scales missing on his left flank, revealing the smooth muscle of his tail which seemed to share the unique dichromatic coloring of the rest of him. A few pairs of dorsal fins twitched valiantly as he tried to propel himself forwards.

Finally, the merman made it to the sea. It was easier going from there, especially after he’d managed to fully submerge his head and neck underwater. He stayed for a long moment, doubtlessly drinking in the relief of oxygen that he could fully process. But no mer would ever want to stay this close to Baralou’s shore. As he sank into the shallows, you expected him to tear off, instantly.

Instead, he broke the surface again, split hair tumbling over his broad shoulders, before another of those indecipherable sounds carried itself over the shush of the incoming tide, back to you. This one sounded like a challenge. He’d fought his way through whatever hell had gotten him trapped in that netting, suffered through a slow asphyxiation and crawled himself back to the sea. He’d very nearly been killed. But now, he seemed to dare the land and anyone living there to try it, again.

Caught in the early-morning rays, he was the most breathtaking creature you had ever seen.

In spite of the sentiments, the posted warnings, and the merman’s borderline war-cry, you made your way back down the sand and into the shallows. The merman had vanished far into the deeper waters by then. You doubted he’d return for such a silly reason. And yet….

A few small tide-pools were receding beneath the tangles of net you’d torn away. You knelt and began to dig through their broken coils, to extract as many of the curved, glimmering scales as you could. They were ivory, with splashes of wine red, each one with its own unique pattern. Perhaps, like snakeskin, a mer’s scales were destined to be shed. Still, you felt like they had to serve some purpose.

Once you’d gathered up as many as you could carry, you made your way down the shore, following the shallow trench that his tail had left. You went along it, into the sea, out until it lapped up over your kneecaps, where the merman had first shoved his face underwater, and then you went a bit further, just for good measure. It would be nothing but bad news to have these wash back up, after all.

There, you lowered your hands, and let the scales slip through, to the ocean floor. Even if the merman didn’t come back, perhaps the currents would be kind enough to return at least some of them back where they belonged. With one final glance outwards, you took your leave, walking determinedly towards the shore, even as the ocean’s receding current pulled enticingly, trying to lure you to follow, into its depths.

[riririkinzi]

GOLDEN HORIZONS AND BOLD TIDES

Hey guys! You remember my update about my Goldenheart Little mermaid fic that's been discontinued because I don't like the summary I made and that I'm gonna rewrite it in a different plot? Well I am while collabing with @long-distance-muse we've come up with some HC/Summary and stuff before the actuall fic cause why not (＾＾)人(＾＾)

HERE ARE SOME HEADCANONS/SUMMARY

• Valerin Adopted Bal when he was 2 years old, since his parents were killed that time and the incident gave him a scar on his face which makes him a prince of the merfolk kingdom

• Bal is a curious mer since forever, quite and shy yet he had an enchanting voice that would make anyone fall for him.

• Valerin would often tell stories of the world above from her point of view cause she knew how curious Bal is, and he loves hearing them.

• Merfolks below 16 are allowed to go above the surface if their acompanied by anyone above 16 which is the age of their adulthood.

• A merfolks life span is up to 300 years but when a human and a mers lips joined together for the first time, a mers lifespan would be cut into 200 and the human's lifespan would be the same.

• Merfolks would began to age really slowly when they reach 20 and so would a human if the 2 would kiss.

• When merfolks die their body dissolves into seafoam after their last breath and left what they last wore during their deaths.

• Bal own a garden where his most colorful flowers are gathered together of a circle like the sun.

• When Bal was 13 the noticed the guards brought home a statue of a young man around his age or maybe a year older and it was a head till it's chest.

• Bal somehow was mesmerized by it's young and handsome face, so he ask Valerin to keep the staue as a display for his garden and placed it in the center of the flowerbed and stare at it all day.

• Bal was also known for staring above, when the seas were calm, he would perch himself on a rock and stare upward for hours, watching the dim and distant star, lost in his own thoughts.

• On his 16th birthday the first thing he saw were the fireworks blasting off with different bright colors and stars in the sky so he sat on the nearest rock to gaze at it all night till the morning.

• A while after that night he found Nimona when she was in their shark form when he was collecting human items and together they would explore shipwrecks for human items.

• Nimona could have been adopted but prefer to be his Ward and Bal just accepts it.

• Nimona's still a shapeshifter and mistreated but the humans so she fled to the sea and decided to have her signature form as a mershark.

• At the age of 20, when Bal and Nimona went to the surface he spotted a ship with so many lights and music playing with the fireworks launching at the sky.

• Bal and Nimona reached the lifeboats to get a closer look, and from Bal's pov, he was amazed from the sight, so much joy, laughter, lanters glowing bright and music playing beautifuly with crafted instruments, and people were celebrating.

• But what caught his attention was him, Ambrosius, a Noble from a long bloodline of Knights, the center of attention and the man from his statue that must have grown.

• His heart was fluttered for he could not take his eyes of Ambrosius not even Nimona's voice can stop him.

• Soon a great big storm came, damaging everything from the ship, people panicked as Bal and Nimona got off the boats cause the humans are about to escape.

• Ambro wasn't able to reach the surface as he was drowning, Bal knew he was gonna die and had to save him and swim as fast as he can.

• The storm had calm while sun rose at it's peak, as Bal place Ambro laying down on the sand.

• For a moment Bal couldn't help but gaze at Ambro, his scaley hand carrassing his strong strucured face.

• He slowly placed a soft kiss in his forehead, breathing as Ambro had slowly opened his heavy eyelids halfway through but closes them again.

• Suddenly Bal heard footsteps of running and some shouting, meaning humans are coming so he heads back to the water as fast as he could and hid himself behind the rock.

• As the humans ran towards Ambro, they immediently carried his unconcoius body as Bal watches over while hiding.

• As he swam back to the sea, he couldn't stop thinking about the night he saved Ambro, how he first caught an eye on him and gaze into him.

• Every night he swims to the same shore where he dropped him off, sat on the rock on the shore, watches over Ambro sitting on the balcony as the moon shines bright, wandering on who saved him.

• He was desperate to tell Ambro that it was Bal who saved him and desperate to become human.

• He had no choice but to seek the sea witch as Nimona carefully and quietly follows him.

• Once he enters it's home, the seawitch didn't show her face but only it's eyes and tentacles.

• Bal asked and begged the witch to become human and so the witch agrees to do so.

• She warns him that if he gains true loves kiss with Ambro, before the morning after a year of being human, he'll have the ability to become human and merman anytime he wants, but if he doesn't he'll die and turns into seafoam.

• She also warns him that every step he takes would feel like he's walking on knives and broken glass.

• The seawitch reminds him that her offer isn't free since he must pay the price and that price would be 2 things he owns: his Arm and his tounge.

• So Bal accepts the offer as he lets the witch cuts his arm off and his tounge with her tentacles.

• After giving his tounge and arm to the seawitch, she immediently gathered everything to make the potion.

• Before handed the bottle to Bal once she's done, she also reminded him that he has to drink it on land before sunrise, and once he drinks it he'll feel the pain as if a swords pierce right through his body.

• Once Bal left the seawitch with the bottle he held onto, Nimona swam towards him begging him not to do this cause she doesn't want to lose him, his kissed her forehead and continues to swam up to the surface.

• Once he reaches the land, while the moon is at it's peak, he instantly drank the potion till it's empty, he groaned as if a knife plunged through him then his body collapsed as everything went to darkness.

• When Bal wakes up, the first thing he saw was Ambro looking at him, asking his name, and if he's alright, but since Bal couldn't speak, he stayed silent.

• Bal is taken in by an enchanted Ambrosius who feels a strange inclination to the mysterious stranger.

• He gets cleaned up and dressed in finery, which is when Nimona sneaks in and chews him out since Queen Valerin is worried and they’re mad that he just left them despite her asking not to leave them too (could be used to set up conflict on a sequel) but they ultimately understand how love can make people do stupid things so she lends her help as long as Bal doesn’t do anything stupid like turn into seafoam.

• In his rooms which Ambro gave Bal to rest in, he was trying to practice walking, it was hard and painful at first due to the seawitch's warning, but he learns to get ignore her and gotten used to walking more.

• Bal haves dinner with Ambs and they get to know each other better. Ambs starts theorizing that Bal might be royal because of his etiquette, wit and hopes so cause he down bad right now.

• The next day, they go on a date in the village, and they accidentally cause a scene where Bal’s feet hurt too much that he collapses and Ambs catches him. But that makes the hood he wears fall down, revealing that the noble was in town with a stranger.

• This makes it to the director, who is a guest who was staying with the insistence of Amb’s parents to help them set him up for a political marriage that would increase their political power while making Ambs happy. But the director just wanted another noble in the palm of her hands.

• For almost a year, the Director starts sabotaging their hangouts and tries to constantly embarrass Bal to the point that he is ‘commoner’, there are rare times that her plan worked but most of them didn't.

• Nimona catches on to her plan and informs Bal, who goes toe to toe with the director in the court.

• Ambs sees Bal in his element, and realizes that it was Bal who saved him from the storm, he wants to marry him whether he’s a noble or a commoner.

• Director realizes that the stranger is more of a threat than she realizes, so she switches tactics and instead of trying to chase him out, resolves to kill him.

• Nim, Bal, and Ambs notice and react differently. Nim tries to find a solution to bring Bal back to the sea where he’s safer. Bal starts second guessing because of one trap where Nimona got hurt in. and Ambrosius realizes that the person he loves is in danger and resolves to confront and stop the director before she kills him.

• Ambs confronts the director and is backed into a corner of either he marries the woman she arranges for him or his lover dies and he agrees to save Bal, and Bal overhears that Ambs agreed to marry another and is heartbroken.

• Looking for Nimona to make sure they go back safely and to turn into seafoam from despair.

• For the afternoon till sunset, he sat on a rock at the shore thinking about his death, and for the first time now as a human, tears from his eyes had shed down through his face from all the pain and suffering he's in, all of those sacrifices for nothing.

• Nimona finds Ballister in tears, learns about what happened, and shows him the dagger that she trades her hair for the seawitch, and tells him that he can return to a merman if he just draws Amb’s blood.

• Bal is conflicted but he doesn’t wanna leave Nimona alone with all the hair they have given up for (cause death is significantly harder to arrange visits for) and hides the dagger under his pillow.

• Ambs bursts in, sees Nimona and Bal, Nimona shifts and hides behind Bal and Ambs is afraid. Now Bal realizes he truly has to pick between the sea and land.

• Bal shields Nimona behind him and approaches Ambs, hugging him sadly before leading him to his bed. He beckons Nimona closer.

• Nimona explains situation, Ambs shares his side, lovers realize they can’t be together and Ambs takes the knife and lightly drags it over his heart, just enough to cause blood to spill on Bal.

• Bal faints from the pain of transforming again then lands on Amb's arms, he carries his body to the sea, where Queen Valerin waits for them after Nimona spilled the beans.

• Bal spent the next few weeks in his room in sadness thinking how he never got to say goodbye to Ambro, that 2 worlds can't be together, and most importantly that he trade his tounge, his arm for nothing, forever will he spent the rest of his 300 years of living in silence, but alteast he'll keep his memories of him.

• Valerin ensuing shovel talk and slight respect for the human who cared enough for her son to agree to a loveless marriage.

• Not only Ambro's parents find out the Director's plan but also that Bal was a merman and it was him that saved Ambro, and gave him their blessings immediently.

• Ambs sets Bal down and kisses him on the lips, magic sparkles, Bal got his voice back and finally can now be human-merman.

• Val is impressed by the power of their love and grants Ambs the power to turn into a merman, his life span would extend into 200 years with Bal and offers them to wed in the oceanic courts.

• They wed, kiss, all the wedding night stuff if you’re into that and officially adopt Nimona.

• Head back to land the next day to a fuming Director, shows off the wedding rings, Queen Val shows up in her ocean queen glory and demands the director’s arrest for threatening her heir.

The redesign of Merman Bal is coming soon along with some art and more. But right now enjoy on this list that me and the amazing @long-distance-muse made together

(This is a mixture of the Hans Christian Anderson, Disney and some little inspiration of @mvjerbs Prince Ballister AU)

[somefanficrecomendations]

April Monthly Recap

I’m back! I took some time off to finish out the semester and get my life back in order and I’m finally able to post again. I’ve barely had time to post about fics, let alone read them, so this month’s recap is a month late. But hey, better late than never?

BATMAN

Plato's Allegory of the Batcave by hppjmxrgosg (gen), 2k, Dick Grayson Character Study “So who do you think was the angstiest Robin?” Stephanie asked. In which Dick Grayson contemplates what Robin meant to him, what it means to everyone else, and how he has to reconcile the two. OR I get my filthy hands on one (1) Dick Grayson and shake him until a character analysis falls out.

Hat Off to the Bats by dietpudding (gen), 6k, Crack Treated Seriously "I've identified a pattern in the frequency of Mad Hatter's previous breakouts. Data shows he's more likely to stay put after he scores a new hat." "Go on." Steph perks up in her seat. Now that she knows to look for it, she can easily spot the manic twink to his eye that Tim gets whenever he's about to act a little unhinged. "I like where this is going." Tim's lips twist into a mischievous grin. "How comfortable are we with ghostwriting a heist?" "Extremely comfortable," Steph replies with an equally roguish smirk.

Ad Infinitum; Modified by familiarities (twistsandturns) (gen), 8k, Time Loop Tim is hunched over his computer, bouncing between a report for B (Batman, not Bruce) and a spreadsheet for B (Bruce, not Batman) when Jason stumbles into the cave. If it weren’t for the fact that Jason had been in a somewhat good mood lately, Tim probably would have been a little more concerned about this fact. Still, it’s weird when, instead of ignoring Tim’s existence like he usually does, Jason walks over to him directly and says, “I'm in a time loop and I don't know why. Fix it."

IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio (gen), 8k, Paperwork, Humor (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Shark Week by heartslogos  (gen), 2k, AU-Mermaid "Do you have a tail? That'd be cool." Bart says, "If you had a tail. Could we give you a sea-shell bra?"

DCU

myself and this body that they stuck me in by misspickman Superboy, (multi), 14k, Non-Binary Kon-El “Oh,” Bart says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “You look so pretty.” “I look like a girl,” he rebuts. He's not sure why he's even continuing this conversation. Bart, blissfully unaware of Kon's internal crisis, shrugs and says, “Well, I think you'd make a lovely girl.”

The Outlaws’ Guide to Parenting by Flowerparrish Pod Collabs (Flowerparrish), kbirb pods (kbirb), Opalsong (Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd), 4k, 40 mins, Podfic, Texting Roy: so you know how I had that fling with Chershire for a month or two a couple years ago? Roy: apparently the condom broke Kori: You have a child! Jason: of fucking course we're keeping her

SHERLOCK

The Least of All Possible Mistakes by rageprufrock (Multi), 118k, Female!Gregory Lestrade If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses.

[snelbz]

Better or Worse {13}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Warnings: language, s e x

This chapter is NSFW. 18+.

I feel like everyone can see my nipples.

Realistically, I know that nobody but Cassian even knows that I have my nipples pierced, but my subconscious brain is yelling that everyone knows.

My husband, ever the overgrown child, is currently making a sand castle. A huge sand castle at that and he looks like he’s having a blast.

Turning back to the pages of the new romance I’d brought with me, he wasn’t the only one. With my earbuds in, I blocked out the sounds of the people around us and lost myself in the story before me. It wasn’t anything like the stories I wrote, but that didn’t make it bad. I loved reading books in different styles, always allowing my craft to evolve.

I was just getting to a scene where the male main character was on her front porch in the pouring rain, ready to tell the female main character his true feelings— and hopefully get some slow burn smut— when a shadow blocked my book.

Glancing up to look at my husband, I pulled one of my earbuds out. “What’s up?”

“I’m covered in sand and need to rinse off,” he said, holding out a hand that was, indeed, white and sandy. “Let’s get in the water.”

Curling my lip, I settled further back into my lounge chair. “I’m okay. I can’t anyways, remember?”

His eyes flicker to my breasts as he purses his lips as I use my new piercings as my excuse to avoid the cold ocean water. “Just come in up to your waist.”

I place a finger in my book as I cock my head. “Just go in by yourself. I’ll watch you.”

He frowns, and I can’t believe that I find it cute when he pouts. “What if I drown?”

“You’re an excellent swimmer.”

“What if a shark comes at me?”

“Punch it in the nose.”

“What if I drift off with the waves and I lose you?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Then I’ll send out the Coast Guard until you’re found.”

His shoulders sag. “I don’t want to go by myself. Please?”

I sigh, and even I will admit that it’s dramatic as fuck. “But it’s cold.”

“It’s not that bad,” he says, having already been in once. He holds out his hand, again. “Please?”

I stare at him for a moment, but he stares back with the same intensity.

“Fine, up to my waist, no more than ten minutes,” I say, and bookmark my page before taking his hand and letting him pull me out of my lounge chair. 

If it were just because I didn’t want to get in, I would not be letting him lead me into the water. There is no way in hell that he wouldn’t drag me under, splash me, or do whatever he could to poke at me.

But thanks to his new favorite jewelry I own, I can’t get in the water for another eight hours or so. I’m not risking an infection from any piercing, but sure as hell not on my nipples.

True to his word, the water isn’t as cold as I feared and I even went out a little past my waist, careful to keep my breasts from bobbing into the water. Cassian stayed with me, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me sweetly. This was a public beach, families and couples and kids everywhere, so it wasn’t like we could get hot and heavy anyways. But still, I could feel the heat simmering just below the surface in that kiss.

The memory of Cassian’s mouth on me the night before had all of my nerves lighting up. He hadn’t let me touch him, had said it was about my pleasure not his, and I had come not once, but twice, all without him touching my overly sensitive nipples.

I told him I wanted to do something we’d never done while we were on vacation. We went to bars and restaurants with our family, but we never went out and did anything else.

I wanted to go to a club. I wanted to dance and feel the music pounding through my body and lose myself in the lights. Cassian was not nearly as excited as I was.

Still, when we got back to the beach, we each started getting ready. I packed a little black dress just for this occasion, along with a pair of strappy heels. My hair was curled, free of its usual updo, hanging loosely down my back which was mostly bare, thanks to the dress I had on, which was open-backed and showed off my ass magnificently.

When I walked out of the bathroom, I stilled.

Cassian is sitting on the foot of the bed, watching a soccer game in his underwear. Although he had showered, he hasn’t done much since then, when I took over the bathroom and he went to “get dressed”. 

Apparently, getting dressed means getting rid of his towel and pulling on his underwear.

And socks.

“Babe, there’s only fifteen minutes left and Illyria is down by one,” he says, eyes glued to the screen. “Let me watch the rest and I promise to dance with you all night.” 

I think that’s fair enough. “Can you at least finish getting ready while you watch?”

Something exciting happens on the screen and Cassian jumps to his feet. “THAT’S RIGHT, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

I suddenly hope our neighbors are currently out of their rooms. Letting him watch his game, I go to his suitcase and pull out a pair of black jeans, along with a black, long sleeve tee that I shake the wrinkles out of. 

As he sits back down, he glances over at me, and stills. I’ll never get tired of that, watching him look at me for the first time. His eyes go soft, then fill with lust, and his lips part as he lets out a breath. 

He motions for me to turn around, so I give him a little show, turning slowly. When I face him again, it’s clear his eyes were lingering on my ass. “Good?”

“Why do you always have to look so damn good while trying to make me leave this room?” he asks, the game long forgotten. “It’s torture.”

“It’s my specialty,” I say, blowing him a kiss and laying his clothes out on the bed. “We’re not staying if it goes to overtime.”

It didn’t. Illyria scored one more time with forty seconds to spare and the game ended. True to his word, Cassian dressed, brushed his teeth, and we were out the door within five more minutes.

The club, called the Pleasure Barge, was just a few buildings down from our hotel. It had pleasure cruises that left the beach every half an hour, but that was not my focus for the night. After showing our ID’s at the door, our hands were stamped and we were let into the club. The music was loud and I could feel the bass thrumming through my entire body. I turned to Cassian, to see if my excitement was mirrored on his expression.

He couldn’t have looked more miserable if he tried.

“Smile,” I said, pulling on his hand and finding a table along the edge of the dance floor. “Go get us a couple drinks and then we’ll dance.”

He mumbled something I didn’t catch, but headed to the bar regardless. A few minute later, he returned with a vodka cranberry for me and neat whiskey for himself.

I sipped through my straw and watched him. “You could try to have fun, you know?”

“There are far too many people here for me to have fun,” he replied, bringing his glass to his lips and looking around. 

“Finish your drink and I’ll make it fun for you,” I promised and his eyes landed on me.

It’s ridiculous how he can look at me and make me feel completely nude. It’s a talent that he’s always had, one that’s always made my heart beat a little faster and my knees shake. 

He downs his whiskey in a few gulps, surely hoping to make sure I quickly act on my statement. I try to keep up, hasilty making my vodka cranberry disappear before dragging my husband onto the dance floor. 

The music was loud with a heavy bass, and as soon as we were out in the mass of people, his hands were around my waist and my body was sliding up against his.

We haven’t gone clubbing since our early twenties, but I’ve always loved to dance. There’s something freeing about it, once you decide to not give a damn what anyone else thinks. 

I throw my hands in the air as I shamelessly rub my ass all over my husband’s groin. My back is pressed against his abdomen, and I can feel his heart beating erratically. It seems that he doesn’t mind dancing with me, after all. 

At least, that’s what I can assume from the way he palms my breast.

I swat his hand away as I laugh, turning to face him and sliding my arms around his neck. “We’re in public!”

“There’s at least twenty couples fucking in the bathroom right now!” He yells back. “I think me grabbing your boob is the most innocent thing going on here!”

I laugh again before getting lost in the music. Cassian must really love me, because I lose track of how many songs we dance to before he leans close to my ear and says, “Break? I need a drink!”

I nod so I don’t have to yell over the music and we find an unoccupied table across the dance floor.

“Stay here, I’ll get our drinks,” he says, giving me a chaste kiss and grabbing my ass.

I bite my lips as he goes, watching the way his muscles move beneath his shirt.

I pull my phone from the hidden pocket in my dress, checking my texts.

Elain has texted our group chat with pictures of a soft pink and gray nursery. She’s officially begun nesting, starting to put away the tiny clothes she’d received at her baby shower. This baby wouldn’t be here for another few weeks, yet she already has a larger wardrobe than I do.

I'm beyond happy for my sister and Azriel, just as happy as I was for Feyre and Rhys when they found out they were pregnant with Nyx. But it also felt like a shot to the heart every time I thought about the pregnancies we’d lost. Gwyn had suggested that we tell our families, to open our grief up to those that loved us. I want to and so does Cassian, but neither of us are ready.

Soon, we keep promising ourselves, and we will, but not yet.

I sense someone pause at the table next to me and I lean into him, smiling up at him, before I realize it’s not my husband. Jumping back, I put a hand to my chest. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

He lifts a brow, and he does it in a way that tells me he’s used to flirting. “No worries. I’m Justin.”

I blink. It’s been a long time since I’ve been single, and Cassian and I got together so young that I almost don’t catch what’s happening here. “Hi, Justin. I’m married.”

He laughs, and I can’t deny that he’s attractive. A few years younger than me, I’m sure, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five. His hair is a chestnut brown and his eyes are blue, and they’re scanning my body from the top of my head to my toes. “I don’t mind that. A lot of married women vacation here. Girls trip, right? I’m known to make a girls trip a little more worth while.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. I laugh until I’m snorting. “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to catch my breath, “I just…does that line typically work on women?”

He flashes me a grin. “You tell me.”

“Oh, Cauldron boil me, no—”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

I stare at him, nearly dumbfounded. “I just told you—”

“You’re incredibly beautiful,” he says. “By far the most beautiful woman in this place.”

I hesitate. “Thank you, but—”

“Would you like to dance?”

This guy just isn’t getting the hint. He takes my hand, but before I can pull it away and tell him hell no, I hear my husband’s voice.

…………

Cassian

��……….

I know I have anger issues.

I know my anger comes quickly and takes a while to fade, and I know that sometimes I get pissed over ridiculous shit, but there is nothing ridiculous about this prick taking my wife’s hand.

With both drinks in my hands, I stop behind Nesta and ask, filter long gone, “What the fuck are you doing?”

His stupid, smug grin melts away the instant he sees me. “Hey, man, I was just telling your wife how beautiful she is—”

“You were just leaving,” I say to him, interrupting.

“I’ve got this, Cass,” Nesta says, snatching up her drink as soon as I set it down on the table.

Nesta wasn’t going to dance with him, I know that, I could see the look on her face as I approached, but my fuse is short and I’m about to blow. My higher reasoning is gone and I’m pissed at this asshole who had the gall to touch my wife, at the club for existing, and at Nesta for dragging me here.

“Seemed to be doing real well while I was gone,” I snap, not tearing my eyes from the prick who’s still standing at our table.

“Excuse you?” I can hear the righteous indignation in her voice as she turns in place to glare up at me, the jackass behind us forgotten.

“I’m gonna go,” he mumbles, backing away. “You two have a good night.”

I want to say something, to have the final word, but Nesta beats me to it. “Go fuck yourself, Justin.”

Whirling back on me, her eyes are blazing. “Do you really think I was flirting with that asshole?”

“I don’t know what the hell was happening,” I say, losing the tenuous hold on my anger. “I walk up and he’s holding your hand and asking you to dance. What else did he say?”

“He hit on me and I told him I was married.” She emphasizes the word by holding up her left hand and pointing at her wedding rings. “But he wouldn’t take the hint.”

I know if I say something right now, it’s going to get me in trouble, so instead, I toss back the double shot of Gentleman Jack I ordered, feeling it burn all the way down. “I’m ready to go.”

“I’m not,” she seethes. “I want to dance, I’m having fun.”

I gesture towards the crowd on the dance floor, empty glass still in my hand. “I’m sure if you can find your friend in there, he’d love to dance with you.”

Her mouth snaps shut and she’s seething. “Wow.”

I shake my head. My hands are shaking and I feel like punching a wall, flipping a table. “I’m going back to the hotel.”

“No, you’re not.”

I turn to leave.

I know it’s a dick move. I know I’m being an asshole. But it’s better than causing a scene and I’m right on the edge of doing just that.

It’s taken me months to get to the point of being able to casually reach for Nesta’s hand, to flirt with her again, to be the guy that she needs and then there’s this guy…who comes out of nowhere and has the audacity to touch my wife like she’s not a goddamn masterpiece.

He has no right.

I crash through the doors of the club and into the fresh air, taking a deep breath.

Nesta’s night behind me. “I should’ve known.”

“Known what?” I ask, not stopping. I keep trekking ahead in the direction of our hotel.

I’m seeing red.

I can’t make it stop. 

“Known that you would make a mess of this,” she says, heels clacking on the sidewalk behind me. “You didn’t want to go in the first place. I should’ve known.”

Her words hurt me but I can’t stop. I’m too blinded by jealous rage. “Go back inside. I’ll see you later.”

She barks a laugh but there’s no humor in it. “You’re a dick.”

I don’t answer. She’s right and I can’t deny it.

I also keep replaying that asshole taking her hand over and over again in my head. Nesta wouldn’t cheat, I know that. There’s not a single doubt in my head that she’s loyal to me. That doesn’t stop the scenarios from playing out one by one.

He takes her hand and they dance and she has fun with him, instead of her boring husband who would rather be watching a soccer match in the hotel room. She laughs at his jokes and he smiles at her in that douche bag way he did.

It fucking infuriates me.

I spend the entire walk back to the hotel playing out stupid scenarios that would never happen and by the time we make it to the elevator, I want to turn around and go back to the club and break that asshole’s jaw.

Nesta angrily punches the button to call the elevator and in the back of my mind, I know I’m ruining our vacation. I’m overreacting and I need to apologize, but I can’t. She’s my fucking wife and no one other man will put his hands on her.

We don’t talk until we make it to our room, when I push open the door with far too much force and she follows me inside.

“Are you happy?” She snaps, plopping onto the bed and taking off her shoes with shaky hands. 

“Fucking ecstatic,” I say, kicking off my own shoes. “Can’t wait for what you have in store for tomorrow.”

Her back straightens as a newfound fury brews in her eyes. “You know, you’ve always been a jealous asshole, Cassian, but you’ve reached a new level tonight. Congratulations.”

“Don’t,” I warn, yanking at my belt, feeling like my clothes are suffocating me.

“Don’t what?” She yells. “Tell you that you’re being a dick when you’re being a dick?! I was having fun, Cass, and you ruined it! We were having fun! And then you started overreacting out of nowhere! All of the trust that we’ve built? Gone! Because you couldn’t even trust me to warn off some prepubescent twat without your help!”

“You don’t get it,” I hiss, and I know my tone is cruel, but I can’t control it.

“Of course.” She laughs, but humor is obsolete. “Of course, I don’t understand.”

“You don’t!” I yell, and she nearly flinches which hurts me more than it hurts her. “I didn’t touch you for almost a year, Nesta! Then this guy shows up out of nowhere and touches you without a second fucking thought!”

She stops then, the tension in her shoulders fading, if only a little. The anger in her eyes turns to concern. Sadness. “Cassi—“ 

“Do you know how many days I spent wanting to just reach over and take your hand? But I couldn’t.” My anger is dissipating, and now I’m just tired. Now, I just feel foolish for my outburst, but I shake my head. ���And this random fucking stranger just…does it.”

She takes a step towards me, but then stops. “You have to trust me to take care of shit like that on my own, Cass—”

“You shouldn’t have to,” I say, crossing the space between us and cradling her face in my hands. “As your husband, it’s my fucking job to take care of you, to protect you, and that includes someone putting their hands on you.”

“Doesn’t give you free reign to be an asshole yourself,” she murmurs, voice softer than it was before. Her eyes are on my lips, heavy lidded, lined with thick dark lashes. Her makeup is smudged just a bit from our time on the dance floor.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole, but seeing him touch you, even just taking your hand, when you’re the most precious thing on the whole, godsdamned planet?” I shake my head, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “I lost it.”

“You’ve always had a short fuse.” Her voice is whisper soft now and at some point, her hand ended up bunched up in the front of my shirt. “It only takes a spark to set you off.”

“And there you were holding a match and some kerosene.”

I’m not sure which one of us moved first, if it was conscious thought from either of us, but her hands were in my hair and her mouth on mine a second later. I had no idea where her phone was and I didn’t care. Nothing would interrupt us tonight.

She gasped as I picked her up, cradling her ass, her legs quickly wrapping around my waist. Then I was laying her down, covering her with my body, refusing to waste another second.

She clings to me, her dress hiked up and I grind into her, already making her moan. She reaches for my shirt and pulls it off, her lips only leaving mine for a second to pull it over my head.

If I felt out of control before, it’s nothing to what I feel now. I’m no longer in control of myself, my being. She has me in the palms of her hands, ready to do whatever the hell she wants. I need it, I need her. It’s been too damn long.

I slip her dress down her body and throw it away. She lays before me in nothing but a little lace thong, and those damn nipple piercings are staring up at me.

My cock is so hard it’s agonizing. Unbearable. I’m fumbling with the button of my jeans, but Nesta rolls me over and pins my arms above my head, kissing me fiercely. 

A year of lust and want and need, of longing and heartache and distance, has all been building up to this moment. 

Nesta leans back, breathing heavily, her eyes searching mine. “I need you. Now. Don’t be gentle.”

Without a word of warning, I roll us back, grinning down at her. “As you wish.”

I claim her mouth in another savage kiss, tugging on her bottom lip as she works on getting my pants off. For a moment, she seems to be having as hard a time as I was, but then I feel them go loose around my hips and we’re both shoving them down until my cock is free pressing against her thigh.

As I grab the waistband of her thong, Nesta lifts her hips but instead I rip them off her body, the shreds of lace landing on the floor by the bed.

She gasps and leans back to look at me, but anger isn’t lighting her eyes. Arousal is. “Those were expensive.”

“I don’t give a shit,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and scooting us both farther up the bed, until her head rests on a pillow. My lips are on her neck, finding the spot where her neck meets her shoulder and sucking. 

“Gods, yes,” she groans and I smile against her skin.

One of my hands skims down her body, pausing to tease the swell of her breasts, then the heavy underside, careful to give her nipples a wide berth. I drag it down her toned stomach, pausing as she shivers beneath me. I glance up at her. “Are you okay?”

She nods, eyes burning. “I need you, please, Cass.”

My fingers skim over her sex, making her jump, which brings a smirk to my face, and then I slide them between her folds. She’s already so wet, slick and warm, but that doesn’t mean she’s ready for me. It’s been months since I’ve been inside her, but hurting her is the last thing I want to do.

I slowly slide my middle finger inside of her, watching her face as I do. She gasps, and her back arches, and her legs spread wider for me. 

I give a couple of slow, taunting pumps inside of her before adding another finger. She moans quietly, and I can’t help the fact that I’m getting a little more rough.

Which she seems to enjoy. 

“Cass,” she breathes, and her hips are writhing, moving in time with my fingers, now slick and glistening as they pump. 

She gasps again as she reaches down between us, fisting my cock. I groan as she squeezes, and then my mouth finds hers once more. 

Adding a third finger, it’s now more of just a tease. She’s ready for me, undoubtedly, but I can’t seem to stop. I look down between us, watching as the sheets get wet beneath us while her hips sway and grind against my hand. Her breathing is hitched, her chest heaving, the sounds escaping her mouth echoing throughout our room. When her knees begin to shake, as her fingers dig into my back, I know she’s close. 

“Come for me,” I breathe. 

Her body tenses as she yells out a curse, and I feel her clench around my fingers. I thrust them back in one last time, deeply, loving the way she feels as she comes around me, and circle her clit as she rides out her orgasm.

The grip she has on my cock is nearing the point of painful, but feels so damn good that I almost don’t want to remove it.

Almost.

But I need to be inside her. I need to feel her, everywhere. To become one with her again after so long.

As she comes down from her high, I kiss her neck softly, sucking and licking, and pry her hand free from where she still held me. Stroking my cock, I climb over her, listening as her breathing evens out, before planting my free hand beside her head and meeting her gaze. There’s so much I want to tell her, so much I want to say, but I don’t need to. I see all of it and more reflected back in her eyes.

Lining myself up, I slide between her folds, coating myself in her slick heat and teasing her clit with the head of my cock. She gasps every time and my grin grows.

Her eyes narrow and she grabs my hips while lifting her own, trying to position me at her entrance. I keep just out of reach, teasing her, and watching as she becomes increasingly needy by the second.

“Cassian,” she whines, throwing her head back and I love it. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand, just like she has me in hers.

Leaning down, I drag my teeth along the graceful column of her throat. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

She grabs a handful of my hair, tugging my face up to hers and crashes my lips to hers. We break for only a second, just long enough for her to whisper, “I want you to fuck me.”

And then I’m plunging into her, heeding her request to not be gentle, as I push in to the hilt in one hard thrust. She tears her lips from mine in a moan and I watch as her breasts bounce and those piercings flash in the low lighting.

I wait there, deep inside of her, dwelling in the feeling. After such a long time apart, this feels so right, so perfect. My hands roam her skin and cup her face as I give her one gentle kiss before completely unleashing myself on her. 

I pull myself out to the tip and thrust into her once more, gaining the same reaction. I can’t stop watching her. After pulling myself up on my knees, I bring her legs up over my shoulders and grab onto her waist. She doesn’t want me to be gentle, so I won’t be. I know what she likes.

I wait for her eyes to open up, wait for them to connect with me, before pounding into her quickly, aggressively, relentlessly. 

She doesn’t give a damn that we’re not in the privacy of our own home, that these walls are paper thin. She moans, screams, curses my name, and it consumes me.

I’ve spent so many nights dreaming of this, reliving the memories of our sex life, but those fantasies didn’t compare to how she sounds, how she feels. I watch her chest heave, her breasts bounce with every thrust of my hips. I watch her eyes roll back, watch how her brows are pinched and her lips remain open. She reaches up to the headboard behind her and lays her palms flat against it, grounding her.

A burning sensation is growing low in my spine and I groan as I grip her waist hard enough to leave bruises. I’m not going to last much longer, I know that. It’s been way too long since I was inside of her, but I need Nesta to come one more time. I can tell she’s on the edge, can tell by the way her hips are starting to quiver and my name is falling from her lips like a prayer. I fucking love it.

I hold her legs to my chest with one arm while my free hand dips to our joined bodies. Swirling my thumb around her clit, I grit out, “Look at me, Nes.”

With great effort, Nesta’s eyes open, locking onto mine. She reaches for me and I let her legs fall apart, settling in each side of my body as I drive into her, my fingers rolling her clit.

Her fingernails bite into my back as she wraps herself around me. “S-so close, Cass.”

I murmur, my lips next to her ear, “Come for me, sweetheart,” and bite down on her neck.

As if she was powerless to defy my words, her orgasm slams into her, making her back arch, pressing her breasts into my chest, as she calls out my name. I fall over the edge right behind her, pumping into her in erratic strokes until I go rigid, eyes rolling in the back of my head, my cock buried deep inside of her.

The room is silent save for our heavy breathing. Falling to the side, I grab Nesta and roll her half on top of me, kissing her until I feel like I’m going to pass out.

When the kiss breaks, Nesta laughs quietly and buries her face into my neck. “Holy shit,” she whispers, “I missed that.”

“Me too.” I brush her hair back and kiss the side of her head. “We’ll have to do it more often so that you don’t start missing it again.”

“We can do it every damn day and I’m still going to want more.” She leans up and looks at me. The love in her eyes is overwhelming. 

“Good.” My eyes never leave hers. “Me too.”

When she kisses me this time, it’s gentle, slow. We kiss like that until we finally fall asleep. 

[dtupdates-archive]

♡—DREAM was active on DreamFanartAcc! He liked:

Happy new year!!!🎉🎉

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year ! 🧨🎉🎆

YIPPEE ITS DREAMNAP DAY

123

i found this old drawing from 2021 and i actually like it a lot so im reposting it

one last piece of 2023 🥳

judgement.

💫✨��Comfy night💙✨💫

earth duo doodles

summer will spring up on you again ☀️

“Sanders Sides? Wait no, Dream Sides?”

boobing along

Winter Dream! looks like he's waiting for someone in the cold ❄️ (wanted to draw the first design in non-chibi style)

they rocking those 2024 glasses 🎆

help he looks like a wizard

@.drmnaphugs's c!dream design in my style :DD

My part of the #dtkplusmultiverse collab!!! who’s up for a night in the woods ?

i forgot how to draw

my little sister made dream team cookies

The Dream team plushie ornaments

THE CHRISTMAS MAP IS COMPLETE !! Full MAP in thread !!!

Dream brushing us

?

VII - Strength

shark vs. fish

that one silly guy lucid drew (I’ll finish these soon)

Merry Christmas ✨🎄❄️

Minecraft, but my friends are fish .o.

@.DreamFanartAcc waittt come back later too im drawing rn 😭🙏

that video was so cute 😭💕

HAPPY DREAMNAP DAY💚🧡

[1/2] BOTANIST 🫐

[1/3] CAPTAIN 🍏

[3/3] ENGINEER 🍊

DTEAM AS THE MAIN TRIO OF CHAINSAW MAN WOOOO‼️

8 STAB WOUNDS DUO fuck yeah, android revolution?

I didnt enter, but Lilo and Stitch was a GO TO for #dtkplusmultiverse

Another gift for dtblr secret santa! Some good ol' warm dnfies :]

drew @.pawonfire's cdream design! you should definitely check out his art

manhunt outfit idk

dreamie

i miss dreamxd tbh

Manhunt shenanigans

Ya'll ready for this?

Tried to salvage the sketch I rushed on the day😭💔

sole survivor

little george! sure hope he doesn’t get stomped on :)

hi idk here’s dream as a painting i found

Fine I'll try painting

Another year..and more to come.💚

✨2024 here we go✨

“It’s within that brings that lonely feeling”

It's 2024!

did i eated

[untitled]

happy new year!!

whats wrong with my fish

your dream bakery🥐🍰

times changing :')

[pinky27freak]

Twisted Wonderland OC

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Biographical Information

MC: Veronica Prime

Gender: Female

Age:16

Birthday: September 18

Starsign: Virgo

Height: 167cm

Eye color: Hazel

Hair color: chocolate brown

Homeland: Earth, USA,

Family: Patricia Catherine, Hydra, Unnamed mother & Unnamed Father

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

Professional Status

Dorm: Ramshackle

School year. First

Class: Unclear

Occupation: student

Club: Unclear

Best Subject: Herbology

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Fun Facts

Dominant hand: Left

Favorite Food: Queso

Least favorite food: shepherds pie

Dislikes: toxic masculinity and Feminism

Hobby: Reading

Talents: Drawing

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School uniform summoning lines

Summon: Oh hey! Wanna hangout later? I want to see if Crowley can actually fly....

Groovification: Gosh, i need to dye my hair again! And its growing out too much! Gotta keep this cute lil persona up and running!

Home: I'm this close to painting our dorm different colors. Dont get me wrong i love this place but.. is very drab...

Home 1: Alot of these boys act like they don't care but deep down are very sweet. Vil gave us things for our house, Malleus regularly checks up on us. Trey even makes sure we have been eating properly!

Home 2: At some points in time it feels like Ace and Deuce live here from how much they come over! Not that i mind the company though.

Home 3: Poor Grim tried to eat a butterfly yesterday. I love that lil guy to death but it makes me nervous that he will eat anything.

Home tap 1: I'm really happy to have found alot of old books in this dorm. I love reading so much so it helps pass the time. Professor Trein even offered to lend me some of his to keep me entertained! He's so nice!

Home tap 2: Oddly enough, i haven't yet thrown a party at this dorm.... Kalim x Veronica party collab coming soon to a dorm near you!!

Home tap 3: Guess who fell off of a broom really high up a few days ago? Me! I was riding it with Epel and just lost my balance, and boom fell dowwwwwn. Ruggie, Leona, and Jack were also there. I actually think i scared Leona for a minute, poor Jack and Epel were beside themselves. Ruggie did help me to the infirmary though. I gave him a doughnut as a thank you.

Home tap 4: I confronted Idia about otome games, he has been avoiding me since. I should have lead the chat with 'Hey i love otome games do you got any recommendations?' Instead of 'Soooo i hear you play otome games?'

Home tap 5: My favorite dorm to hang out with? Honestly i can't choose, i love them all so much! But at the moment im partial to Octavile, Jade let me see a whake shark and his likable points went up.

Home groovy: Sometimes i really miss home, badly. But my friends have started to feel like family. Especially Grim, Grim is already family.

DUO:

[VERONICA]: If we don't win this fight, imma use my cute charm to get Malleus to win it for us!

[PATRICIA]: GRACIOUS you can be dramatic. Leave this to me!! *insert karate sounds*

[hushed-chorus]

Hey everyone! I hope you are all good! I'm listening to Manu Chao and writing some Selkie!Simon.

I've been working on a scattershot of things this week. There's a collab with the lovely @erzbethluna (which we have roughly planned and been laughing way too much about these past few days). This will be a long term project that we will take at a casual pace. I've also poked at What Remains After The Storm (thank you everyone who commented on chapter 8!), and begun researching my COTTA fics (a one-shot sequel to WRATS and a potential shipwreck/marooning fic because #OceanBullshit).

In terms of active writing, I've decided to focus on Selkie!Simon, because I've been keen to write this for quite some time. Here's a snippet

We drink more tea, eat more scones, and catch up on the past seven years. In between messy bites Simon tells me about all the places he’s been. He tells me about sand dunes, vast and sweeping, and children racing bodyboards down the steeper slopes. Seaside towns, where teenagers jump off cliffs into deep water and people ride pleasure boats. Harbours packed with crab pots and brimming with fishing boats. Morning vistas where the lucky may spot dolphins. The chaos on one beach when people thought they’d seen a great white, until it emerged it was just a basking shark.

“Have you ever seen a basking shark?” His hands are animated, spreading wide. “They have huge mouths, big enough to swallow a man, and they swim around with them wide open. But they don’t even eat meat. My mum told me they eat tiny things called plankton. They swim around waiting for the plankton to fall in. It’s wicked!”

Honestly, it sounds almost as terrifying as the seal.

Also, I'm publishing a secret crack fic this weekend. Here's a snippet.

“How come some sayings work and others don’t?” Petra asks.

I resist the urge to pull the lesson back on track. “Because not enough Normals understand their meaning. For example—”

“—but if I say to Sophie—” Petra lifts her wand, points it at her twin, “—pee your pants, she doesn’t pee her pants!”

Hello tags below the cut! Also, anyone else who wants to join in, consider yourselves tagged!

@johnwgrey @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @raenestee @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @yeonjunenby @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @stitchyqueer @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @tea-brigade @whogaveyoupermission @nightimedreamersworld @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @onepintobean @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @theearlgreymage @martsonmars @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @palimpsessed @valeffelees @j-nipper-95

[muffimtv]

https://www.tumblr.com/ashe-hallows/724195547623407616?source=share

ALL

1. what medium do you use most?

digital art, using my ipad and procreate! i also sew an insane amount

2. most popular piece?

probably my fursuit (a few hundred thousand views on youtube if that counts?)

3. your favorite piece(s)?

MY FURSUITS!!!

4. piece you wish got more love?

my sticker designs!

5. how would you describe your art style?

cutesy, simple, colorful

6. favorite thing to draw?

animals

7. easiest thing for you to draw?

sharks

8. thing you struggle to draw?

HANDS.

9. whats something you always come back to when drawing?

colors, i always change the colors on my piece one billion times

10. how do you deal with artblock?

cry, watch something that inspires me, cry

11. do you listen to anything while drawing?

music! i listen to EVERYTHING

12. describe your process while drawing

rough sketch (shapes, no detail), second sketch (detail), lineart, color, change color, change color again, lighting, tiny detail

13. talk about a wip you like!

MY STICKER SHOP. i have all my designs done i just need to actually set up a website!

14. whats your favorite thing about drawing?

seeing my silly ideas come to life

15. least favorite thing about drawing?

my godawful posture

16. how do you motivate yourself to draw?

i don’t! i get an idea in my head and it eats away at my brain function until i draw it

17. what is something youre confident about in your art?

i love love love my colors

18. something you feel like you need to work on?

people. since i started working on my stickers i’ve been neglecting my people drawing skills

19. where do you find inspiration?

a lot of inspiration comes from MilkyTomato! I work for her, and it’s really motivating to see her success

20. is your workspace, digital or not, organized (not neat, organized)?

my workspace for drawing is typically my bed, so uh. but for sewing it’s generally neat and organized! i have a pegboard for all my things

21. what do you think your artstyle would taste like?

rainbow sherbet

22. do you have a favorite color palette to work with?

pastels!

23. how many artstyles can you work in confidently?

three ish? my sticker style, my people style, and i can dip into realism on occasion

24. whats a compliment about your art that has always stuck with you?

a friend told me that my art feels huggable a year or so ago and i think about it always

25. what size canvas/paper do you use?

i typically use the square canvas setting on procreate

26. what do you physically draw with (pencil and paper, tablet, etc)?

my ipad babey

27. do you ever have multiple wips going at once?

always all of the time. i can never do just one thing

28. whats a piece you would like to redraw at some point?

i would love to redo some of my older ranboo fanart

29. do you use a lot of references while drawing?

oh hell yeah dude i cant live without references

30. whats something youre proud of about your artstyle?

COLORS

31. which fandom have you drawn the most for?

probably mcyt tbh

32. have you done a lot of collabs?

nope :(

33. have you taken a lot of classes for art?

not really? i took art in middle school and i did a semester of animation but that’s all

34. whats something you still like from your old art?

the love i can see in it

35. if you had one piece of advice to give your younger artist self, what would it be?

KEEP DRAWING!!! TRY NEW THINGS!!! GET SILLY!!!

[putschki1969]

2023/04/05 Blog post by Wakana  ご視聴ありがとうございました！〜歌とケーキと泣き笑い〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Thank You for Watching！〜Songs, Cake, Laughter and Tears〜

Two weeks ago, on March 25th, I held my “Wakana Spring Shark Festival Vol.2 ~Talk & Mini Live~”! And I invited Yuuka Nanri as guest♡ The theme behind the event was basically a birthday celebration for Yuuka. The cake was delicious (*'▽'*) An entire shortcake like that really feels special so it’s great♡ And once again, there was a problem with the live stream...! (T-T) Right at the beginning there was no sound... (T-T) I'm really sorry to everyone who watched it in real time. When the live stream starts, there is always a slight time lag so I will check the mic until the staff gives the OK. But this time I didn’t get an OK 😳 I was wondering what issue it could be....But everyone's comments were steadily coming in so I thought you were all able to hear and see me which is why I decided to start talking about some random stuff😂😂 Then I realised that there was a big problem with the audio and I was like, “oh no!” ( ; ; )

I was talking about watching Japan win the WBC while waiting for an appointment at the chiropractic clinic but alas, no one was able to hear that. However, I did get some comments saying, "I don't know what you're saying, but your body language is amazing" *laughs*, Anyways, I'm really sorry for making you wait so long at the beginning ( ; ; ) 

After that, we were able to start streaming without any issues! (all the staff did their best!!) We started the event with a mini live! First of all, I wanted to sing something spring related so the first song was "Yureru Haru"＼(^-^)／I had Shin-san play the piano for me many times before but I think it was the first time we performed this song together. I feel like we all have my collabs with Sakai Yurie-chan engraved in our memory☆😉I wonder if Yurie-chan is doing well in Hokkaido~♪(^^) For the second song, I chose "Flag", which will be included in my 3rd album "Sono Saki he", set to be released on May 31st! It was the first time for me singing it with just a piano as accompaniment so I was wondering how it would turn out, but as expected of Shin-san, he created a truly powerful arrangement…😳✨ Then it was time to pass the baton to Yuu-chan.She sang a the FJY song “inside your heart" and “Colors of the Wind” from Disney's Pocahontas! Wow, she is really amazing...😭She talks with such an elegant voice but the moment she starts singing, there is so much dignity in every breath...✨ Each word becomes a sound and sinks into your heart, making you feel nostalgic and warm. I mean, you’ll basically end up crying😂😂Tears are inevitable!😭It seems like everyone felt the same way! (I was reading your comments in the archived version and from what I could tell, you all started crying too *laughs*) And at the end, we sang "Yasashisa ni Tsutsumareta nara" together♪ Singing various melodies is truly fun♪(^_^) You can feel the infinite possibilities of adding colour to your voice! 

In the talk corner that followed, we invited everyone to ask questions in the comments while also trying to dedicate some time to questions that had been asked in the previous event. I honestly wasn't able to follow the comments properly, and everyone was asking quite a lot of questions!😂 You really had a lot of questions...Next time, I will try to answer some more! *laughs* I guess the number of unanswered questions will continue to increase~😂 There was also some discussion about the content of future broadcast events. What would you like me to do during the next shark festival? Some people suggested a tea party some sort of mukbang with gourmet food. I thought both sounded really interesting! So, let's invite Yuu-chan again and do a "Gourmet Mukbang / Tea Party" someday! \\\\٩( 'ω' )و //// Sounds like so much fun! Thank you all for watching! (^-^) I'm looking forward to seeing you again♪ 

I’ll leave it at this for today! In the next blog post, I will write about the album production which has finally reached its climax! Until next time~☆(*'▽'*)/ 

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

[ace-of-squirrels-card]

Turpentine is my all time favorite song. It was my top song from Spotify wrapped in 2023 despite being released on October 20 (wrapped was released Nov 29 lol). It's about searching for meaning in a meaningless life. Let me tell you what's so fucking amazing about this song: an essay, by me, ace of squirrel

Soak your clothes in kerosene

Cleanse the mind of ketamine

Slide your mom on top of me

Wash yourself with turpentine

Okay this song opens with very classic Tom lyrics. Wacky, silly, seems meaningless, casually vulgar. In many ways this entire album feels like a return to form, and that opening verse is a great example.

My arms, I've raised again

Today I don't feel bitter

I have no path within

Don't know if I'll get better

My own mind's unclean

Can't taste anything

What if I'm not like the others?

A broken man, a Frankenstein

What if my heart won't recover?

I'll clean myself with turpentine

Then there's an immediate tone shift to these really raw lyrics. These lyrics are heavy. It gives the impression of someone who woke up one day, no longer recognizing themself. As if to say "Is this what I've become?" Feeling like somehow, the whole is *less* than the sum of its parts. We're all just these broken pieces, haphazardly sewn together and hoping it holds. 

Meanwhile the guitar has this desperate, almost panicky feeling behind it. Somehow this is also very classic blink.

I feel like I'll cave in

I'm anxious, I am weathered

I've lost my way again

I know there ain't no treasure

These lyrics *kill* me, my god. These lyrics are saying we're crumbling apart, breaking at the seams. We're on this journey, we're lost, and we know that nothing good awaits us at the end? There's such a hopelessness to this verse.

My mind breaks with ease

Sticks and stones and dreams

We already have the ingrained association of sticks and stones being things that hurt us. Now you want to lump dreams into that category? Oh honey, who hurt you

Sharks smell the blood in the water

We're all just lambs to the slaughter

It's only all the time, this time

A generation lost and forgotten

Clawing at the lid of the coffin

Your God ain't coming back this time

We have this fun little moment that is very Mark here. We see these "spoken word"-like verses from Mark in a lot of his other songs (and especially collabs like Find My Own Way or Let Me Down). While a lot of the lyrics sung by Tom feel like an internal monologue, Mark's verses look outwards. The world around is more than uncaring. It's actively harmful, maliciously negligent. There's a sense of desperation and utter loneliness and constantly fighting to survive. 

Quit your job and have a drink

Take a pound of ecstasy

Blah, bla-blah, bla-blah, fuck

Wash yourself with turpentine

This ^ *this* ^ 

Self destructive, desperate. It's like they want to convey how meaningless everything feels and the best way to do that is not even bother writing a lyric here. Love it. 

Light me like a trampoline

Stick your dick in Ovaltine

Snort a bag of Dramamine

Douse yourself in gasoline

Throw up in the limousine

Jack off to a magazine

Wash yourself with ... turpentine

Goddamnit

Ughhhh this last verse. Amazing. It's back to classic goofy Tom, but it feels *very* different given the context of the rest of the song. Theater of the absurd. It really pulls together the meaning of the entire song. Its not so much some silly lyrics, and more like a desperate attempt to feel something. Anything. Self-deprecating at best and horribly self destructive at worst. 

Just from the perspective of a rhyming scheme, the structure is *chef's kiss*. They're showing off a certain mastery of language in this song that I would've expected from more ....respectable artists.

The song as a whole is about searching for meaning but struggling to find it. Filling the void in your heart with whatever you can, but never being fulfilled. Doing all this dumb shit, acting a fool even if you're not, because you feel so broken on the inside. It's this delicious dichotomy between deeply meaningful and hopelessly meaningless. Now THAT is classic blink (just look at Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, which somehow has a really heavy song about about a broken family dynamic but also a song about grandpa just ate seven fucking hotdogs). 

You can hear it throughout the entire album, theres this  apology to each other. It's all of them saying "I lost track of what was important. I forgot who I was because of dumb shit that didn't matter." And turpentine is that introspective lynchpin. 

Anyway y'all thanks for reading, that was a lot to come out of an account that mostly reblogs weird Danny phantom content. 

[doamarierose-honoka]

Will the Suicide Squad ever win over the hearts of the masses? The DC comic book team jumped to the big screen in 2016 with David Ayer’s lambasted Suicide Squad, which made for a better trailer than movie. Birds of Prey tried to give Margot Robbie her own moment, but that bombed. James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy touch was supposed to redeem the villains with 2021’s The Suicide Squad, but the half-reboot, dropped in theaters and HBO Max on the same date, didn’t exactly pop. Max’s Peacemaker and Harley Quinn animated series have found success in a sitcom-ier mode, but it’s hard to call either a true Suicide Squad vehicle. Pray for Rocksteady Studios’ Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League, which looks like fun... despite a number of delays.

But there’s good news for anyone hoping the Squad can truly assemble in kick-ass form: Suicide Squad Isekai. A collab between Warner Bros. Japan and Wit Studios, the new anime finds Harley Quinn, Peacemaker, Clayface, Deadshot, and King Shark jumping into an alternate universe to fight and crack wise. Amanda Waller is once again pulling the strings, sending them through some kind of interdimensional portal to complete a mission that will end in blood, one way or another. Set to Tomoyasu Hotei’s “Another World,” it feels like the perfect vehicle for the characters.

Here’s the official synopsis:

In the crime-ridden city of Gotham, Amanda Waller, the head of A.R.G.U.S., has assembled a group of notorious criminals for a mission: Harley Quinn, Deadshot, Peacemaker, Clayface, and King Shark. These Super-Villains are sent into an otherworldly realm that’s connected to this world through a gate. It’s a world of swords and magic where orcs rampage and dragons rule the skies—an “ISEKAI”!

With lethal explosives planted in their necks, there’s no running or hiding, and failing the mission means a one-way ticket to the afterlife! Can Harley Quinn and her crew conquer this perilous ISEKAI realm?! Brace yourselves for the pulse-pounding saga of the elite task force known as the “Suicide Squad” as they embark on a jaw-dropping adventure!

Suicide Squad Isekai has quite the assembled crew itself: Working with Wit is director Eri Osada (Jujutsu Kaisen), writers Tappei Nagatsuki (Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World) and Eiji Umehara (the Vivy Prototype), and on character work, manga artist Akira Amano (Reborn!) and Naoto Hosoda (Digimon: The Movie).

As someone who enjoys John Cena’s zany Peacemaker in both Gunn’s The Suicide Squad and his Max series, I can’t argue with the potential of handing the character to over to seasoned anime artists. I mean...

Suicide Squad Isekai is expected to roll out in 2024.

[icarianiscariot]

FOR THE FIC WRITER ASK GAME 13, 19, 29?

HELLO KAE THANK U FOR THE ASK :D this got a lil long bc it's excerpts of writing so putting the link to the question list here up top lol

these were fun ones eheheh

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

answered here HOWEVER sometimes i DO plan things.... (usually if me and hua are brainrotting over a particular au, we'll hash out all the details ahead of time LMAO)

for example, the 10tihay kaisae au has an entire outline for it!! the order of events, how i want things to get resolved, little details about each character, etc.

planning usually happens for the Long Complicated Ideas because that way i can keep track of any twists or developments i want to get to before writing them down

(but also i will write Out of Order so usually if i have an idea, i jot the scene down itself and insert it wherever it ends up needing to go lol)

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

HMMMMMMM i could be mean and give u a tidbit i've already sent u sdlfkjskldfj but lemme find something that i'm 90% sure you haven't already seen uhhh....

HAVE SOME RYUKURO

Igaguri's head immediately snaps up from his laptop when Kurona unlocks their dorm door. "Where have you been, man? Everyone is fr—" and despite the hoodie Kurona is wearing, Igaguri's eyes zero in on the hand-sized conglomerate hickey on his neck. "What happened to you?!" Before Kurona can even begin to respond, Shidou follows him through the doorway and gives Kurona's roommate a cheeky wave. "Sorry for stealing your shark. It will happen again."

an eventual tidbit for "home is where your teeth sink, love"!! i'm having a good time writing all these dynamics eheheheh

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

OOOOO have a fic that will never be posted !! hua and i were collabing on a rinsagi hoodie swap fic back in like. april or may? and we both got caught up in other projects and never got to it. i was writing isagi pov so have this:

bachira (12:55pm) why do you need rin-chan’s contact isagi WHY ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ isagi (12:58pm) that was creepy never send me that one again bachira (12:58pm) ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ Isagi sighs and tosses his phone down onto the bed. At least Rin’s hoodie is the same soft material as Isagi’s own – not that Isagi would’ve expected differently, it’s just… Weird, to be wearing Rin’s hoodie. Because of course, as soon as Bachira had confirmed no contact, Isagi figured fuck it and put on the hoodie he had on-hand. No one needed to know. He looks down at himself, sees “ITOSHI” plastered over his heart, and tries not to think about it. It’s no different than his own, really, just a little bit bigger, the sleeves coming down over Isagi’s hands and the hem a little baggier than his own, and Rin probably never wore it anyway. Hesitantly, he lifts the collar to his face and breathes in. Blue Lock laundry detergent. Of course. Yeah, Rin probably never wore it anyway.