#a little rough but I'm happy with it

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

With the end of season two comes a second redraw!

[Nov 2022] [June 2023] [June 2024]

[luckycharms1701]

Just read Mikey’s mating season, would write one for Raphael?

of course i will, anything for our boy in red! i will say that bay raph in particular is hard for me to write, so i hope this is decent

again, it's a lil spicyyy 🌶️ reader beware!

The first time it's brought up, Raph absolutely refuses to allow you to spend his season with him. Won't even have the conversation. Not even Mikey can convince him to just talk to you. It takes a literal act of God to force him into it- stranded in your apartment together while a late snowstorm rages, just as his season is starting.

Raph is naturally afraid that he will hurt you. But what he doesn't tell you is that he is afraid of the vulnerability. Raph's season is a highly emotional time for this passionate guy. He knows that he'll be more open- generally the first sign that his season is starting is when he admits something to one of his brothers that he doesn't actually want them to know. So forced into close quarters with you, alone- he's afraid of what he'll say, afraid that the depths of his feelings will drive you off.

He is shocked that when the time comes, his anger doesn't overwhelm him the way it normally does. Instead, it is his love for you that takes over. He finds himself feeling incredibly affectionate. He even chirps for you. (Once it's over he's mortified and you have to swear that you'll never tell anyone ever). The sadness he associates with this time? Again, all gone, because you're here.

The cuddling is real and it is. Frequent. Raph doesn't like to let you go and will often carry you around if you need to move from the bed. But good luck getting him to agree to let you leave the bed. He likes you there and he does not want you to leave. Surely he can go get whatever you need? You belong in his arms, as far as he is concerned.

So, Raph. Once you get him on board, he has rules. These are non-negotiable, because not following them could possibly result in him hurting you and that Will Not Happen. The biggest rule is that you cannot tease him. Teasing riles him up like nothing else and if he loses control and hurts you... no. It Won't Happen. He'll lock himself in a different room and take care of himself before he'll let you break one of his rules.

However, that doesn't mean that it's not a good time for both of you. It's hard at first, because Raph is so afraid to let go, but once he does? Once all that passion is set free and focused on you? It is absolutely some of the most intense lovemaking you've ever experienced in your life. And that's what it is- lovemaking.

All of Raph's affection and tender feelings take over, and he is intense but so gentle at the same time. When it's not mating season, he can be rough sometimes, although never more than you can handle. Not so during mating season. Even when he's pounding into you, driving you wild as you writhe under him, he doesn't hurt you. The only bruises you come out with are in the shape of his hands on your hips.

He is surprisingly quiet when he fucks you. Everything in him is so focused on you that he barely notices his own pleasure. He does chirp a lot, and when it happens the churring practically vibrates the whole bed. He prefers to draw sounds out of you instead. There is a certain dark chuckle he gives that warns you that you are about to get loud. He loves to quiet down so he can catch the nearly silent gasp that comes out of you when his fingers hit that spot deep in you.

He becomes an anxious mother hen when it's over. He hovers. It's a little maddening but he needs you to indulge. He needs to be able to make sure that you're okay, that he didn't hurt you. He is of course worried for no reason, you're fine. But he's still a little cuddly, so you enjoy indulging him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance Link Attack - Paw Groove

[millionsknives]

it's quicker & easier to eat your young

[mukuharakazui]

"Alphabet mafia" was funny (courtesy of @birthclod) so here are my alphabet mafia + nationality headcanons for Town of Salem's best faction (sorry to the roles without skins </3)

[fidgetspringer-art]

Since it's been recieved I can now share the suncatcher I made for @raptorjules for christmas! <3

The body is brass and the stars are made from nickel silver ✨️

[abyssalmermaiden]

sleepy cozy Aryaille now in HD

[b4kuch1n]

hi! birthday. which means it's finally time t

yo what the itch store is fixed up now

damn what? I don't know where this came from. look all the comics I put on g*mr**d a year ago are back here again with all the formatting and typesetting by @fireflysummers as well as the exclusive bonus art wtf who did this. my werewolf comic on here too what the hells!! that one also got re-toned for printing if u want to AND an exclusive cover spread !!! what the fuck!!!!! come see for urself I can't make this shit up

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 23 - Forced Choice

title: what started the whole mess

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: referenced torture

~

Doc was in charge. Doc was there to make sure nobody got lost. He was supposed to keep them safe.

He failed.

It was Ren who ran off from the group—though Doc would never blame him for looking for a public restroom. Then Tango and Impulse went after him when he didn’t come back, then Doc when none of them returned—

It’s day three in captivity, and Doc isn’t doing well.

They sawed off his arm—and it may be electronic, but Doc had still programmed nerves into it. It hurt like the devil. He’s fairly certain that he cracked a molar trying to not to scream, and even now, with the exposed wires sparking and the leftover chunk of metal overheating, Doc’s struck by such terrible phantom pains that he spends most of his time staring at the floor with his one eye, keeping his mind so laser-focused on it that he doesn’t have space to think about his arm.

There’s a screwdriver driven into his mechanical eye. They sometimes push it in deeper, twisting it around, scraping against his eye socket and restricting his ability to blink. That one, thankfully, doesn’t hurt as much as his arm. The head of the screwdriver had pierced the nerve sensors before it could get too bad, he thinks, so most of the pain came from the weight of the tool and its press against his organic socket.

They want him to work for them. They want him to build a murder machine, something like what he used to create the Perimeter but for people, and Doc won’t do it. He simply cannot allow it—on Hermitcraft, where they have respawns, sure. Here, on a cityworld with millions of civilians that don’t have free or easy access to respawning? He would never.

His first denial is what took his eye.

The next day was his arm, torn apart bit by bit—just a finger at first, then two, then three, then his whole hand, each time pausing to give him the opportunity to submit.

That had almost broken him. He’d barely managed to hold out.

It’s the third day, and Doc doesn’t know what’s coming next, but he isn’t looking forward to it.

The answer?

A surveillance screen.

There’s two feeds from surveillance cameras being projected before him—two grainy, blueish videos of nondescript rooms, one person standing on the left screen, a curled up figure on the right.

The left screen shows Ren. Doc recognizes his long hair, his strong build. He’s standing still, hands in front of his face.

He can’t tell who the person on the right is. He’d have to assume Tango, but their face is buried in their arms and their back is toward the camera.

“These are two of your fellow . . . residents,” his captor says, taking a step away and sweeping back his blond hair. “You know them, don’t you?”

Doc turns his head to look closer at the right (he’s taken to doing as such, choosing to move his eyes as little as possible). Is it Tango? Tango was wearing short sleeves, wasn’t he? This person isn’t.

His captor chuckles. “Hard to see him, isn’t it? The basement is so dark.” He pulls out a communicator, his long fingernails tapping on the screen.

After a couple of minutes, two new people enter the room on the right. They grab the slumped body by the arms, lift the person up to the camera.

It takes a moment for Doc to register what he’s looking at—a person wearing something over their face—but who—?

It’s Mumbo.

Doc’s stomach drops out of his body.

Mumbo’s here, too?

That means that the Hermits have been deliberately targeted. He’d assumed until now that his arm and eye had made him appear an obvious redstoner, but if they have Mumbo—

How long has Mumbo been here?

His face is—there’s some contraption belted around his jaw—

It’s a muzzle.

Mumbo’s eyes are barely open, his hair longer than it was when Doc last saw him, long enough to hang limply over his forehead. His mouth is covered by a steel trap almost identical to a dog’s muzzle, attached to a leather strap affixed under his chin and belted on the top of his head.

He doesn’t look good. He droops in the mens’ hold, unable to keep himself up. He doesn’t appear to be bound in any other way—as if they don’t expect him to try to escape.

Doc swallows, turns his head toward Ren. Ren has moved, starting to pace around the room—and—and he’s wearing a muzzle as well, if he’s seeing this correctly. Identical to Mumbo’s, belted over his head, clenching his jaw shut.

Unlike Mumbo, Ren has mittens handcuffed on—and Doc can imagine why. Ren cannot stand the feeling of being restrained, particularly around his head and neck. Getting stuck in a t-shirt is enough to send him into a panic. Wearing a muzzle would be like hell.

“Your friend on the left has been muzzled for about three hours,” the blond man says, and Doc’s heart pangs for poor Ren. “He doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself much, does he?”

Doc doesn’t respond.

When he breaks free of the netherite bands holding him to this chair, he’ll tear the blond man’s head off.

“Your friend on the right. . . .” the man trails off, frowning. “Well, I’m not quite sure how long he’s been muzzled. Four . . . four weeks? Five?”

Doc’s breath catches in his throat.

A month?

Mumbo’s been here for more than a month, and none of them realized?

They should have been there for him. Doc should have reached out, should have messaged him more frequently—he was going on a long trip, he’d warned them that he’d be out of contact for weeks at a time, none of them had thought to check if he was all right—

The blond man claps his hands together, frown switching to a smile. “So! We have a choice for you, today.”

Oh, no.

“Option A: agree to the terms we’ve already laid out. You build our machine, and we’ll free them both of their restraints.”

Doc can’t. He can’t agree to that.

“Option B: don’t pull any extra tricks to annoy me today—like choking one of my employees—and we’ll take the muzzle off one of them.”

Before they removed his arm, he’d almost escaped. He’d choked a tormentor nearly to unconsciousness. Such a shame that more entered right before the woman passed out.

“Option C: ignore both of those, and they both get tied up from head to toe. Your choice.”

Oh dear.

Well, he absolutely could not tolerate the first. It was unacceptable; he would not allow his own machine to end this world.

If he goes with the second, he will have to resist any of his normal behaviors. Silence when commanded to respond, snarky backtalk when commanded to stay silent, any sort of struggling—all will have to be suppressed. He will have to humble himself considerably.

But the third. . . .

“So, Doctor? Which will it be?”

Doc swallows. “B,” he growls.

They just have to survive this long enough to be found. Doc had yanked out a tuft of his own fur and dropped it where they’d been kidnapped. If Xisuma knew what he was doing. . . .

-

“Your choice, Doctor.”

Doc’s eyes dart between Ren and Mumbo. Ren, visibly shaking on the floor. Mumbo, motionless, slumped against the wall.

It isn’t a choice he thought he would be forced to make. He had complied with the promise that one of them would be de-muzzled, he had let them shave down his horns, he had politely responded to any and all questions (biting his tongue at every moment to not cuss them out), and now he has to pick?

He has to choose which one loses the muzzle?

This isn’t fair.

Mumbo’s been wearing it for at least a month. He probably has been underfed because of it—the feeds have been running all day, and someone entered only once to feed a straw through Mumbo’s muzzle to give him something to drink. His jaw is likely weakened from disuse and has possibly locked from the position it was forced into. He’s suffering intensely, that is undeniable.

Ren has only had one on for a day, and he’s had no less than five panic attacks. He likely would have already torn his hair out if his hands were free. He hasn’t stopped panicking and he isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Doc already knows his choice.

He despises himself, but he already knows.

It was always going to be this way. He had made the choice as soon as he was told to—no matter what he told himself, his brain had already made his priorities clear.

He nods toward the left screen. The blond man raises an eyebrow, then pulls out his communicator, sending another message to the men down there.

I’m sorry, Mumbo, Doc thinks to himself, staring at the crumpled figure on the right side. I’m so sorry.

The screens blink black as soon as Ren’s muzzle is released.

Doc’s eye remains fixed on the spot where Mumbo was, and he vows to punish himself when this all ends.

[anewp0tat0]

the majority voted for me to not photoshop and just work on the valentines day art to be posted later in the month. and yea I will do that. but I already started photoshoping regardless. so happy belated birthday Grelle!!

I was originally making William into Sebster, plus Nardo's face shape worked a lot more for William than it did for Sebs, and could I have just imported a whole new face in there? yea, but it would have taken longer, may not have looked great... plus I accepted that in the end, I do afterall headcanon Bassy to be Grelle's side toy while Will is her main. so she would want this.

[theeliampayne]

.

[cumulo-stratus]

Max r u okay😰

yeth

everything just sucks rn

my sister is gone (at college she's not dead) so i'm dealing with that and the house feeling empty, and school is starting soon, and my mom is at a new job, and there's gonna be a ton of new students at school who i don't know, and idk my brain isn't built for this

i got overwhelmed tn but luckily i ended up being okay with minimal crying 🥇🥇

and i called my sister so i got to talk to her!!

[legionofpotatoes]

nimona thoughts! still my top movie of the year so far!!

been thinking about how to frame my thoughts on this gem, and I ultimately arrived at a bit of a pretentious jumping-off point. but honestly, my favorite stories are always the ones that end up demoting the whats, the hows, and sometimes even the whos in service of the whys. it's the hardest question and context to tackle in any story, and it's worth interrogating the most in order to find any true meaning, any connection at all to what's told.

nimona shows exactly why walling yourself away from the "others" isn't good enough. it shows why you have to do the work and see them.

not just that it is dogmatically "the right thing to do". not just depicting what certain systemic injustices are, how they are deployed, and who they are targeted at. but the why. that simplest, purest shape of questioning an injustice dating back to your gentlest time as a child, when you were vulnerable, naive, and truly curious in the best possible faith. the question you would always ask was why.

you are picking up a sword to threaten the unknown. you've been told the whos and whats. you parse it thus. but you don't know the why. you are watching this happen on TV, contextualized, simplified, dramatized. you are connecting the dots. understanding the why.

nimona painstakingly drills down on that why. arduously, achingly digging past the institutions of fear fed by cycles of indoctrination and right down to the core of it. packaged in a simple-to-parse fantasy world built with deft, elegant metaphors and archetypes that immediately fall into place and make sense to a person of any age.

it is animation as a medium and fantasy as a genre both working in concert. a fun and colorful romp that ends on a gentle embrace of reassurance that tells children - both literal and the ones buried deep inside adults - that their first question to the world was always the correct one. because it was the kindest.

[lqcb97]

[spnintheyearofourlord]

Okay Dean “You know I am not much for prayin’ ‘cause in my book it’s the same as beggin’” and “I prayed to you, Cas, every night” Winchester, I see you.

[avalonia320]

Being away from home since August has been rough. Being a caretaker is rough. Watching my mom suffer is the absolute worst. I hate being too depressed to write. It's my biggest escape right now and I feel like it's being taken away from me. But I'm gonna give it a try anyway. I don't like being this person that's always sad, which is funny because I've had a lifelong battle with depression. But I never wanted it to win; I've always been a glass half full type, I always try to find the little bits of happiness and hope. I'm trying to get there again. I don't know. It's rough. But I promise I'm trying.