#Thank 😎

[necromorph-slayinglovemachine]

holy shit you have the best profile layout/theme anyone has ever had in the existence of the internet. this is amazing thank you for opening my eyes i feel enlightened

Pretty sure my blog layout’s been exactly the same for like 9 years I can’t bring myself to change it

[deedala]

SHAMELESS CREATORS NETWORK MAY THEME: THROWBACK

Shut Up It's Faceless/Silhouettes Summer!!

[blitzy-blitzwing]

I freaking loved drawing this. 🤩🤩🤩

Commission for @ivycorp

[9ffairs]

[allgremlinart]

commission for @sulkybender - a scene from their fic Beloved Of The Sun

[kriskukko]

under a canopy, pikes on a wall

[arvandus]

There's something special about the way Suo kisses you. Something in the way he lays you down beneath him, his hand gentle along your jaw, before he lowers his lips to brush against yours.

There's something special in the feel of him, in the way his lips coax yours to match his, as if you've always belonged to him, as if he's always known you.

There's something special in the way his earrings dangle, their tassels brushing against your cheeks like butterfly kisses, soft like feathers. They jingle and chime like laughter on a summer day, like nostalgia, like every good memory you've ever shared, and every good memory you have yet to make. His bangs fall too, kissing your forehead, and in that moment, he's everywhere all at once, as if every aspect of him from strand to thread, muscle to bone, is reaching for you, wanting you.

There's something special in his eyes, in the way his dark orbs see you, want you, need you. It's the way his pupils dilate, in the way he drinks you in. They're open doorways, a temple where you will be worshipped if only you'll step through and take your rightful place at his altar. It's a promise of love, protection, commitment that he binds himself with like a vow written on a thread of fate, a noose tied to hang himself with from your heart should he ever break it.

There's just something special about Suo.

[celorangeine]

bully doodles time 😎

+ random ass jimmy

[oriato]

Commission for @quinn-of-aebradore of their Tiefling Bard, Zenith! 💫 Tysm!

commissions

[nutria--oscura]

EDINBURGH LIKE SHOW: UNMATCHEDDDD

Forgot to take pictures with the cast but anywaysss

GOT THE COMIC BOOK (by @cerealforkart)AND FRAMED PICTURE (thank you @louthecoder) SIGNEDDD

[stevens-pastrami-sandwich]

SHRRGFFFF... OUUUUUEUEUUUUUU PROFESSOR BOXLEITNER NOOO DONT CRY WAAHH anyways og under the cut

[fulgurbugs]

Tressa + Therion Duopath - Departure/End

<-Previous comic

(full series)

[mikeru6]

jack and ralph’s stupid inside joke (but I animated it)

idea from @jack-merridoomed !! inspired by this post

[ultopias]

sherliam nyc life art dump pt.2 (❗long post) (part 1 here)

(i accidentally implied that sherlock wouldn’t cook anything william wanted in the first place, please overlook it for the sake of the joke)

the following are some stuffs i drew before chapter 74 was out, so they were only from imagination and don’t fit canon anymore. i still like them tho so i’m including them here

thank you for reading! let’s keep supporting yuumori next year too 🥰 happy holidays everyone 💖

[kurtmustdie]

Did you guys keep your bags from the merch you got at mcr show you went to because you couldn’t part with a memento from the best day of your life or are you normal

[cum-a-calla]

Roman getting so overstimulated from cumming so much that he just starts sobbing 🫣🫣🫣 flinching away from touch but also pliant to it. Its too much but dont stop bc youre literally his only anchor right now. He needs his soul crushed back into his body. He needs to get squeeezeedd

The first orgasm had rushed through him surprisingly quickly. It had been a while, and hearing the things you’d whispered into his ear and your eager, slippery fingers gliding over his cock had him thrusting into your fist within minutes.

You sit behind him, watching him in the mirror. It’s full-length, ornately framed in brushed chrome and clean enough that you feel you could reach forward and touch right through to the twin images of you and Roman inside. You’re snug draped over him like that, legs splayed out on either side of his as you wrap your arms around his body to jerk him off from behind. He’s got his button-down shirt all rucked up over his slim belly, no pants to speak of. He watches your hands in the mirror and occasionally even meets your eye, his pupils dilated beyond belief, like wet, blackened moons hovering above the fever-spots high on his cheeks. His cock barely wavers after the first climax.

“I can’t do it,” he mumbles, voice drawn high. He shakes, all the way from his core. You hold him, anyway. His hands are free, able to stop you from doing anything he doesn’t want to do. He keeps his fingers taut and tight on your thighs, almost tucking them underneath your legs. Completely surrounded by you, by your scent, your tickling whispers into his ear. He whines and hangs his head back, but only for a split second - he can’t resist watching himself like this. You know just how much he needs it, needs to be treated like a desperate little slut. Your own arousal builds between your thighs, but that can wait. That can wait for quite a long time, if need be. “Too much… can’t. Can’t do it again.”

“Not up to you,” you coo into his ear. He shivers and you pick up the speed, reaching your other hand down to cup him by the balls. You pull on them so deliciously slowly, almost like a long stroke. He inhales sharply and holds his breath, staring so intently at what you’re doing that it’s almost like he’s glaring, eyebrows drawn, a vein standing out on his forehead. Sweat slicks him from hairline to his throat, and he smells so good you could sink your teeth into his ribs. Kissing his damp skin is salty, exciting. “You’re my disgusting, needy boy and I want you to cum for me. I want it again.”

“I f-fucking can’t, you’re not - you’re not listening to me,” he lashes out. His tone is angry, almost as angry as his cock, swelling and flushing a deep pink that signals another release on the way. You give his balls a harder squeeze, a warning, and he looses that breath he was holding in a hiss. “Ah! - okay, oh - okay, please, please, I’m close! Please!”

“Use your big boy words, Roman. Tell me what you need or I’ll keep you on the fucking edge until it starts to hurt.” He makes these quick, panting breaths, hips rocking up once more. It’s almost like he wants to say it, the words building on the back of his tongue and disintegrating into pathetic little whimpers. You read all of this at once and act accordingly, ready to follow through with any and every threat at a moment’s notice. You ring your fingers around the base of his cock and hold it there, firm, squeezing him. He stiffens up and moans, almost a sob as it’s drawn out and trembling through the air. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

“Oh, I fucking want to cum, please let me cum! Please let me have it, please! I wanna cum, I wanna cum,” he cries. His voice keeps breaking, and in the mirror, you catch his chin trembling before he throws his head back again, hiding, blinking his tears back as he shakes out of his skin. A hitching gasp takes his voice away, and an almost imperceptible ‘please’ slips from those lips. He’s sniffling, trying unsuccessfully to swallow the sounds of his exhausted crying.

He’s beautiful. He’s a fucking painting, tensed and agonized and on the verge of coming completely apart one way or another. Every muscle tight. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that it really hurts, but the pain hides behind all the raging excitement of seeing him this way. You want to take a picture, you want this moment tattooed into the soft gray meat of your brain, illuminated behind your closed eyelids any time you blink. You could tell him right now that you loved him and it would be true. This Roman, this desperate, horrifically flawed being. Stripped completely bare and fleshless, everything exposed. Every nerve raw.

You loosen your grip and work your way back into a rhythm, slow at first, bringing him back. Showing him a kindness.

“See?” you say softly, lips against his skin. “See how good I take care of you? See how I can make you feel anything I want you to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I fuh-hucking - I do, I do, oh my god.” Roman openly sobs, eyes and cheeks and nose red. “Th-thank you, I want it, I- I-”

“I know. Good job. You’re gorgeous like this, you know that? I could keep you like this forever.”

“Keep… keep me?”

“Yeah. All mine.”

“For- for…” Roman stutters into a moan, voice rising out of him like a powerful tide as pleasure crashes between his thighs once more. He’s close, dangerously so, cock bouncing in your hand. He doesn’t bother finishing his thought, instead allowing it to carry him away. Completely at your mercy.

“Give me everything, Roman. Go ahead. Cum for me, good boy.”

He goes so taut he points his toes, his body a long, thrumming line of energy. He’s nearly shrieking this time, thrusting up again into your wet fingers, almost thrashing against you. You don’t go anywhere, tight around him, and hook your legs around his to keep them apart, keep them still from kicking. He whines and seems to have a little second rush as you do so, words spilling out of his mouth but remain indecipherable within the chaos of his crying and moaning. It takes him longer to relax his body down this time, catching his breath and letting the aftershocks pass through him. It’s easy to stroke his stomach, to run your hands up inside his shirt and stroke his chest. Your fingertips tickle at his collarbone and he hums, going limp against you. Aside from the odd sniffle, his emotions are back under control. You know he’d hate it, hate you staring at him like this, but you steal a long glance in the mirror. His eyes are half-closed, face blotchy with all that red. Swollen around the eyes, all cried out. The shape of his thighs is lovely, the shape of his cock even as it softens. The sparse hair on his lower belly.

“M’tired,” he mumbles. “You… you killed me, you… bitch.”

“I know,” you say, smiling behind him. The both of you rise and he haphazardly pulls on a pair of boxers, stripping his shirt off and throwing it on the floor as he heads to the bed. He scratches the back of his neck and does a little stretch as he stumbles. He spares an annoyed glance behind, an eyebrow lifted.

“Well… get up. You’re coming too, right?”

Right? A quick flash of hope, holding another breath. The only way he knows how to reliably reciprocate to you, to show a kindness, a tenderness. Don’t leave. Stay with me.

“Yeah - yeah, Rome. Need to rest my arm, it’s fucking dead.”

Roman’s face relaxes, smirking at you and rolling his eyes. “That’s on you. Pervert. I’m just a victim in all this. Now, less talky. More sleepy. Get up.”