#also I can not for the life of me draw side profiles

[sillyboycam]

I’m sorry if this blog is just giving you ABSOLUTE whiplash but you love it so it’s fine

I love love love nicktoons unite

And I gotta say Jimmy Neutron just MIGHT be my favourite, or just, all of them.

Anyways here’s Jimmy and Timmy having cuddles because they literally got spared their life (somehow) again

Love ya enjoy

Art is by me ——————> @sillyboycam X_X

[holoscout]

another day another fern and jermaine sketch dump whats upppp

[crushmeeren]

ᝰ KATSUKI’S NSFW ALPHABET .ᐟ

̽ ⋆ ﹒♡﹒ GOD…. The epilogue is KILLIN ME!!!!! I had to write the brain rot out of my brain.

‣ ‣ cw ; spanking, choking, lil’ bit of degradation — vanilla otherwise.

master list ‣ ‣ @i-the-fluffo

ᝰ A ‣ ‣ AFTERCARE { ༝༝ what’s katsuki like after sex? ༝༝ }

Often, sex ends with you becoming dead to the world, falling asleep in record time because Katsuki’s fucked out all your stress. Fortunately, or somewhat unfortunately for you, Katsuki is unable to leave things unclean. He downright refuses to relax.

So even when you’ve started to doze off, harsh panting turning steady and mellow, Katsuki runs his fingers through your hair, presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and demands you “get the hell up pillow princess, we aren’t sleepin’ in this fuckin’ mess.”

On the rare occasion he’s able to convince you to join him in the shower, he’ll ask if you want him to wash your hair. Sometimes, if you aren’t itching to be back in bed, you’ll say yes.

Katsuki also has a habit of positioning you so the spray of hot water will hit your back. Strong arms will wind around your shoulders, hugging you close to his chest, and every inch of you will keep warm.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ B ‣ ‣ BODY PART { ༝༝ katsuki’s favorite ༝༝ }

I can’t seem to shake the idea that Katsuki is an ass man.

He finds reasons for his hands to be on your ass no matter what. Cooking? He’s behind you, grabbing a handful and squeezing. At the gym? He’s spotting you while you do squats, smacking you every time you finish a set. When you have to get up from the couch after the fourth episode you’ve binged because you need to pee? Yeah, he’s there too. “Helping” you by shoving a hand up the back of your shorts to palm the curve of your ass and lever you up.

Don’t even get me started about the hand prints he leaves during sex.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ C ‣ ‣ CUM { ༝༝ where katsuki likes to cum ༝༝ }

Katsuki loves when the tight heat of your pussy locks onto his cock and refuses to free him, sucking him in like it’s begging to be stuffed full. It destroys his determination to pull out every time.

If he’s not burying himself inside you, he’s keeping a steady pace until his balls draw up tight, until his stomach clenches in warning, before he slips free, pumping his cock and covering your ass with glossy threads.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ E ‣ ‣ EXPERIENCE { ༝༝ how much does katsuki have? ༝༝ }

Katsuki’s dipped his toe into the water a few times, so to speak. No, he’s not one to sleep around, but you met him in his mid to late twenties. He’s had time to venture out and explore, as most people in that phase of their life do.

How else do you think he got toe curling pussy eating skills?

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ F ‣ ‣ FAVORITE POSITION { ༝༝ katsuki’s favorite ༝༝ }

Katsuki’s under a spell fucking you from behind. The first snap of his hips jiggles your ass and it leaves him slackjawed, fingers digging into your squishy hips to use as leverage while he yanks you back to meet each heavy thrust thereafter.

The curve of your spine, the clench of the muscles in your upper back, and the fact that the side profile of your fucked out expression is on display when it’s not shoved into the sheets all fill him with pride. It soothes the hidden primal urge in his brain.

To Katsuki, it’s a victory high when he pushes all the right buttons to shred your voice and shake your thighs while your ass is in the air.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ H ‣ ‣ HAIR { ༝༝ does katsuki shave or care? ༝༝ }

Katsuki does shave. Not bald, because it’s odd to him when there’s no hair. A small nestle of blonde curls is all that remains above the base of his cock. Sometimes, when you sneak your hand past the waistband of his briefs, and your fingers tease through the coarse hair, his brain starts to buzz.

In the case of whether or not he cares if you shave, his opinion can be summarized down to this — he does not give a single shit. He cares more that you do what’s comfortable for you rather than what you think he wants.

Whether your pussy looks like a hairless cat or a lions mane, you’ll scream his name.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ I ‣ ‣ INTIMACY { ༝༝ is katsuki romantic? ༝༝ }

Sometimes.

There are times when you need Katsuki to fuck you silly. To push into you so hard it bruises your hips, hands braced on the wall above your head to keep yourself from a concussion.

Other times, his fingers will search for yours and tangle together, ending with them pinned to the mattress. Katsuki’s face will bury itself into your throat, warm breath fanning your neck until it’s damp as his hips flex with the effort of making love to you. The tip of his cock slides across your g-spot and your back arches, tits pressing into his chest. Katsuki’s moan splinters, and he’ll chant “I love you, love you so fuckin’ much,” until your knuckles turn white.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ J ‣ ‣ JERKING OFF { ༝༝ does katsuki jerk off? ༝༝ }

Once, maybe twice a week, in the shower, he’ll curl his fingers around his cock. You’re the star of his show, whether you’re there in reality or not.

Eyes closed, Katsuki will brace a hand on the wall and remember the time you jerked him off in the shower. The memory of hot water on his chest, your soapy tits pressed against his back, and how he met each drag of your hand with a roll of his hips. It’s one of his favorites.

Usually he tries to avoid a mess, so he doesn’t touch himself in bed often. But when he does, he stares at the collection of filthy pictures you’ve sent him. Maybe a video of you sucking his cock, if you felt generous enough to allow him to record one.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ K ‣ ‣ KINK { ༝༝ katsuki’s kinks ༝༝ }

Spanking you, admiring your skin as it swells and burns hot to the touch, always sends heat sinking through Katsuki’s belly and straight to his cock. He wouldn’t do it if you didn’t squirm and cry out, pressing your ass into him to silently ask for more.

Along with spanking, Katsuki will flatten you to the mattress, haul a leg over his shoulder, and latch his fingers around your throat. The feel of your pussy fluttering, reacting as soon as he restricts your air flow, shoots adrenaline down his spine.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ L ‣ ‣ LOCATION { ༝༝ where katsuki likes to fuck ༝༝ }

Your bed is preferred. It’s big, comfortable, affording you the privacy Katsuki demands. He’d chew off his own arm before another person witnesses you unravel for him.

Other than that, he leaves the decision to you. As long as there’s some sort of solitude, and it’s not icky, Katsuki’s more or less fine with it.

You’ll get an earful if he isn’t.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ O ‣ ‣ ORAL { ༝༝ katsuki’s thoughts on oral ༝༝ }

Straddling his face, so slick that he laps at your pussy like an ice cream cone, tongue sliding over your tender clit again and again — that’s what curls pleasure low in Katsuki’s pelvis. Giving him the surreal sensation that he could cum from the slightest brush of his fingers.

When it’s reversed, and you’re the one with the aching jaw and swollen lips, Katsuki’s calloused palm will cup your jaw, thumb running along the bone underneath your eye, and his hips will thrust slowly to meet the fluid motion of your bobbing head. Eventually, Katsuki’s patience will run out, and you’ll be in his lap before he cums.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ Q ‣ ‣ QUICKIES { ༝༝ katsuki and quickies ༝༝ }

Katsuki prefers savoring the moment, so quickies aren’t his favorite. He will though, if you’re both pent up and it’s all the time you have.

It’s not a quickie by definition, but Katsuki enjoys waking you up in the middle of the night, squeezing between your legs and slipping his dick into your sleep soft body to seal you as one. Clinging to him with heavy limbs, moaning in his ear about how good he feels, he brings you both over the edge in no time.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ S ‣ ‣ STAMINA { ༝༝ what’s katsuki’s stamina like? ༝༝ }

Katsuki’s ego would bruise if his stamina was anything less than stellar. To be fair, he’s trained long days and even longer nights to achieve it. Repeatedly working himself to the bone for even an ounce of progress.

But, you make him weak. Katsuki’s man enough to admit there are times when his pleasure wells up so hot, so fast, that the iron grip on his control slips. He can’t help but suck in a sharp breath between his teeth, snap his hips forward and finish inside you.

The saving grace is that he can go multiple rounds without begging for too much of his stamina.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

ᝰ T ‣ ‣ TEASE { ༝༝ does katsuki like to tease you? ༝༝ }

Teasing you until you’re flustered, until your expression is cracked with pleasure, it’s an achievement in Katsuki’s mind. In between the slick rejoining of your hips, when he can catch his breath, he’ll open his mouth and mutter with a rich, low tone “So fuckin’ needy for my cock, yeah? Can’t even go a day without it, you spoiled rotten princess.”

You love to hear Katsuki belongs to you, only you, and he uses that to his advantage to turn you to mush. When he eats you out, he moans, pulling back to stare at you with heavy lidded eyes, teasing you with “You love that I’m a fuckin’ slut for your pussy, don’t you?” The words sink into your skin, a flash of heat slicing through your belly, and the nod of your head is jerky. A few more swipes of his tongue and you’re cumming.

[zyafics]

BROTHER'S RIVAL | 03

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — You and your brother were born Pogues, but once your family made enough to move to Figure Eight, you became a Kook. Unfortunately, Rafe doesn't welcome Pogue-born Kooks. It doesn't help that your brother is determined to steal the 'King of Kook' title from him. So, if your brother is attempting to steal something from him, Rafe will return the favor.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, and usage of drugs.

Rafe: i don't like being ignored after giving u the best orgasm of ur life

You didn't expect to see that message flash on your screen. Especially since you're with your brother, helping him load all the shit he bought from Heyward's into the back of his truck. You didn't even know he got a truck.

Lowering your brightness, you type back a haste reply.

You: don't type that shit Dean sometimes reads my text

Rafe: but it's true

You: that's an overstatement

Rafe: how about you come over here and we'll test that?

You: no, thanks i'm with my brother

Rafe: maybe he should fuck off

You roll your eyes at the message, just as your brother calls your name. Slipping the phone into your back pocket, where you are positive Dean won't be able to reach, you turn back to see him standing on the trunk of his truck with his arms outstretched.

"Did you hear me? Bring me the next case." He declares, his tone chipped with semi-annoyance at your distraction. You were about the grab the box, but with his attitude, you decided to put your hand on your waist and stare him down instead.

"Do I look like a dog to you? Say it nicer."

Dean sighs but doesn't argue back. Rather, he prepares himself to lunge through the next few words. "My dearest sister, the light of my life, the only person in the world who I would kill for, can you pass me the goddamn beer?"

Close enough.

You reach for one of the cases of booze set near your feet and hand it off to Dean, who easily takes it off of you and stacks it in the back of his cargo bed with the rest.

"I still don't understand the plan here." You confess, picking up another box and starting a momentum. "You're going to host a party, so what? What does that gotta do with anything?"

Your brother decided that he wanted to start hosting parties at your house. Since now he's intersecting himself into more Kook spaces, he wants to also start stripping away the pride of certain members too. According to Dean, Rafe is the top host for the grandest parties on the island—his containing a multitude of wild nights and adventures, all oozed out of his all-expensive paid amenities.

But you, for the life of it, don't understand how this has anything to do with his goals. Dean confirmed, after your little encounter with Rafe on the golf course, that he did have plans on taking the title of Kook King from Rafe. That Rafe's hatred of him was not unwarranted. However, he didn't tell you why.

All you know is that for the duration of this summer, your brother is going to do everything he can to convince the rest of the Kooks to follow after him.

Dean sighs, approaching you at the far end of the tailgate, crouching down till his face is to your level. "It's simple. Kooks are superficial and flimsy. They are only loyal to the Camerons because they have money. So, we need to shift the tides."

You are not getting in the middle of this.

"We—" you gesture to yourself, then to your brother, "are not doing anything. You are trying to do something with something we don't have a lot of. AKA, money."

While your brother does have a cushy job that pays better than most living in The Cut, and your mother secured herself as a respectable accountant who works with several high-profile Kooks—your family is nowhere at the levels that the Camerons is.

Dean chuckles. He finds it humorous that you're trying to distance yourself from this ongoing rivalry, drawing a line that you would not cross. Though, he knows, you would choose his side if it came down to it. "I know," he agrees with a nod. "But that's not the only way we can even the playing field. We can get power elsewhere."

"You do realize that this is just a meaningless feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, right?" You remind your brother. You know that he's competitive and stubborn; when he sets his mind on something, nothing you can or do can change it. "That it's not going to matter in the long run?"

His jaw locks and it takes several beats before he answers. "It matters to me."

Your older brother pushes himself back up to his height, jumping off the trunk onto the ground, and starts carrying the boxes himself. Without your assistance. You feel like you pushed a button you didn't know existed, and step back timidly.

"Fine, tell me," you announce after a few minutes of unbearable silence, trying to retain Dean's attention. "How are you planning on getting power?"

"No, you don't care."

You grab your brother's arm before he hauls the next case onto the cargo bed. Finally, he turns to you. "But, you care," you rectify, in a small voice, "so that means I care too. What is your genius plan, Lucky?"

Dean lights up at the nickname you used. An inside joke between the two of you. When you were children, you two were obsessed with the film Lilo & Stitch—so much that you had adopted the nicknames as your own. However, for the better part of your childhood, you had a difficult time remembering it was Lilo. You kept calling it Lucky. In turn, you kept calling your brother 'Lucky.'

"Alright." He sets his current case on the tailgate, turning back to give you his full attention. "Y'know how Kook doesn't just party? They do a lot of other shit too. They smoke. They do drugs. They fuck one another on the off-chance that they could gain something from it—a job, an inside scoop, maybe even the life of a housewife."

You raise your brow at his example. "Men can't be the sluts?"

"Can you let me speak?"

You raise both your arms in surrender. He cuts you a playful annoyed look before continuing on his mastermind.

"So, that means, Kooks change loyalty based on whoever has most access to the things they want. The drugs, the alcohol, the parties. Everything. If I can take that away from Rafe, they will shift their loyalty."

You cross your arms, considering his words. "You can't honestly believe that's true. They have more loyalty than that."

"I don't think so," he shakes his head, the firmness in his voice makes you wonder how he's so confident about it. "They're not like Pogues. Loyalty isn't the only thing they have left."

You don't respond. Instead, you remember. You can't shake off the rising guilt in your gut, knowing what happened the other day with Rafe—your brother's enemy—and how your brother still doesn't know. While you don't consider yourself a Pogue anymore, you know you are loyal to one thing.

Dean.

Your family.

This, you are certain.

In that moment, you decided that you need to put some distance between yourself and Rafe. That whatever happened that night was a one-time thing, a flunk in the system, a brief moment of vulnerability.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket again and this time, you pull it out, expecting to see another text from Rafe.

Unknown: come on, don't ignore me

You swallow hard, clenching your phone in your palm. Dean has returned back to lodging his cases onto his trunk, picking up his own routine without you.

"Hey, Dean," you call out, to which your brother hums in response. "Have you talked to... him?"

It takes a moment for your brother to register who you are referring to, and his whole body goes rigid. "No," he says with gritted teeth, not bothering to hide his discontent. "I blocked that bastard months ago."

He glances down at your phone clutched in your hand. "Didn't you?"

You know you should. You know it would be better for you. But, something in you just doesn't allow it to happen. That you wonder, for a moment, if he would ever change and need help. To get back on his feet. To make amends. You couldn't let that happen without you.

"Yeah," you lie, "I was just curious."

—

The party is full of Kooks. You didn't expect this many people to show up, especially knowing that they're supposed to be resenting you and your brother, but somehow you were proven wrong. Perhaps it's because Dean went all-out that drove them, or because Kooks didn't like to miss out on something on their own street, but they're here.

You wonder, for a split moment, if what your brother said has some merit.

The party wasn't just Kooks. He invited the Pogues too. Unlike you, where your friends dropped you upon learning that you were moving to Figure Eight and you didn't care enough to keep in touch—Dean carefully kept in contact with his childhood buddies. Because, at heart, Dean still sees himself as a Pogue.

You didn't care. You took advantage of it. Dressed in your best party outfit—a skirt that barely covered anything, a top with such a large cut that practically revealed your cleavage—and a fuck-it attitude, you descended to the party and have fun.

You drank, danced, and even grind against a couple of guys on the dance floor.

That's when it hits you. Where is Dean? Usually, by the time the second guy got too handsy with you, he would appear out of nowhere to shove the guy off. An overprotective streak that you can't help but roll your eyes to, it's also a measured move that allows you to know when and where your brother is at all times.

Taking the final sip of your drink, the liquor of mixed fruits and vodka slipping down your throat with a burn, you separate from the guy to search for your brother. He wasn't outside, where most of everyone is, lounging around the lit pool; he wasn't on the roof, where Kooks were jumping off the ledge into the water below; he wasn't gone—his truck was still here. When you went inside, you searched the first floor to find him nowhere in sight. That's when you head upstairs. Opening the door to your room, you didn't find Dean.

You find Rafe instead.

"What the hell?" You exclaim, your words slightly slurred as you step into your bedroom and lock the door behind you. Rafe turns around, his previous attention paid to the various frames decorating your walls now pins onto you. "What—what are you doing here?"

"I heard there was a party," he shrugs, his demeanor completely casual while his hands rested inside the pockets of his khaki shorts. "Thought I'd check it out."

"The parties downstairs,"

"Huh," he hums, feigning innocence. "I must've gotten lost."

You aren't satisfied because, despite your intoxicated state, you can clearly see through his lies. Crossing your arms over your chest, you accuse, "thought you gave yourself a house tour the other night?"

"I did," he chuckles, closing the distance. His height towers over your own, and as he meets your gaze, a smirk rises over his face. "I got distracted."

You swallow hard, your heart skipping several beats knowing exactly what he's alluding to. It doesn't help that Rafe carries the same look behind his eyes—the same glint he had when he made you come.

"You know," Rafe begins, trailing down the length of your body, causing heat to bloom under your skin, before meeting your eyes again. "I talked to girls before and none of them has ever made me work as hard as you."

He's referring to the fact that, while you're replying to his texts, after your talk with Dean, they've been mostly monosyllabic answers. One-sided attempts at a conversation. You thought he would take the hint to leave you alone.

Once again, you're wrong.

You cross your arms and challenge him, "Go talk to one of your girls, then."

"Nah."

You don't know if it's the alcohol or his words, but your entire body is buzzing. You should leave, and go back to your search—what were you looking for again?—but something made you stay rooted in your spot. Rafe takes note of your internal battle and takes advantage of it.

Moving even closer, until he's nothing but a breath away, Rafe lowers himself to your level, his mouth right beside your ear. "You know what I can't stop thinking about?"

"How you can't seem to take no for an answer?"

"No," he chuckles, his breath fanning the crook of your exposed neck. "You and your little moans as you called out my name."

Your legs squeeze together, arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach as your mind flashes to the vivid memories of that night. Of Rafe touching you and making you come with the skillfulness of his hands. You can't help but imagine what he could do with his tongue.

Pulling together whatever little restraint you have left, you set a hand on his chest. "Well, cherish it. Because it's not going to happen again."

You're proud of how steady your voice sounds. It's almost believable.

But Rafe doesn't look completely convinced. A cocky smile forms on his face, his eyes diligently scanning your features, picking you apart under his scrutiny.

"You don't believe that."

"I—" You begin, stuttering. Goddammit. "I do. I'm serious."

His hand raises to cup the side of your profile, the pad of his thumb drags across the plump of your bottom lip and they part unconsciously. His smirk broadens.

"Look at you opening up for me. Showing me how much you want me."

You internally groan. He's so infuriating, hot, and obnoxious, that you can't believe you're falling for any of it. You need to do something. Flattening both hands on his firm chest, you give him a light shove, forcing him to release.

Turning, you head for the exit when Rafe captures your wrist, spins you around, and crashes his lips onto yours.

Everything zeros into this moment. All those nightly fantasies of Rafe kissing you finally come to life as he groans against the taste of you. His hand travels to the nape of your neck and holds it tight, using it to steady himself as he presses closer, pulling you in, needing to feel nothing but skin-on-skin.

And you allow it. You don't know if it's because of the vodka mixers you had, or because Rafe is just an incredible kisser, but the way he sucks the plump bottom of your lips draws out a breathy moan, and your skin buzzes with fervent heat. His free hand descends down to grab yours, before placing it against the hard bulge under his pants.

"Do you feel what you do to me, princess?" He murmurs against your vodka-stained lips. "I fucking need you."

Your eyes connect with his, but meet nothing but the pitch-black of his dilated pupils. "You're drunk," you say breathlessly.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, leaving tingles in its place, before he confesses, "Not enough."

Then, his mouth meets yours again.

Without breaking for air, Rafe steps forward, causing you to step back. It becomes a two-person dance, and it doesn't end until the back of your heels hits the frame of your bed, tumbling you onto the mattress.

Rafe is immediately on you. Your back flattens against the sheets, your heart thundering, as Rafe parts from the heavy kiss to lay wet ones on the side of your throat, teasingly, nibbling the tender skin until he leaves a mark, before moving down to the valley of your breasts.

Half of you wish you weren't wearing such revealing clothes. The other half wished they were already gone.

Your core aches as Rafe's hands fall between your legs, skimming the short skirt, until he feels the patch of your panties. "You're so gorgeous," he confesses, before chuckling at the slickness collecting on his fingertips, "and wet."

He tells you to lift your hips and you oblige. Removing your skirt, he toss it to the floor, and his eyes zoom into the red pair of panties you decided to wear tonight.

"Did you know red's my favorite color?" Rafe asks. You shake your head softly. "Do you know why?"

"Anger issues?"

He grins, his thumb gently stroking the drenched spot in a way that causes your hips to buck off the bed. But he pins you back down. "It's because it's a good color to fuck to."

"Never knew you were the type of guy to set the mood."

"Didn't need to. You did it all for me."

You open your mouth to retort when his thumb massages your clit in such a sensual manner, a moan rips from you. Rafe watches the way your eyes flutter from the ounce of pleasure, how easily stimulated you are by his touch, and he revels in that feeling.

"You want me," he murmurs, full of confirmation this time, but you don't answer. Rafe watches the way your teeth sink to your bottom lip, embarrassment flushing your face as you refuse to accept it. "Say it."

"You want me," you correct, changing the subject as you arch into his hand.

His fingers stop their magical strokes, and you whine. "No, princess, you want me. I want to hear you say it."

Desperation seeps. Your core aching, pleading for stimulation, and he is right there. You have half a mind to push him off and finish the yourself, voyeurism included. But, you don't. As your eyes connect with him, you breathe out with reluctance, "please make me come."

It isn't exactly what he wanted, but he takes it.

His fingers slip under the band of your panties, pulling them off and discarding them. You thought he would do the same methods as the other night, his fingers finding your sweet spot, but he surprises you when he lowers his mouth and finds your swollen nub.

"Shit," you whisper breathily, his mouth suctioning the clit in a manner that causes your back to arch. Your hands go to find his hair, threading your fingers through his roots as you grind on his face. "That feels so good."

"You taste so fucking good," Rafe growls, the vibration of his words causing your stomach to tighten. When he sees how responsive you are to him, he slips two fingers into your pussy, feeling your walls immediately fluttering around his digits.

He fingers you, as he sucks on your clit. The double stimulation causes your head to spin and your heart to hammer out of your chest, your stomach coils with the familiar pang of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Rafe," you moan, gripping his hair tighter. For a moment, you're afraid of hurting him, but it's quickly dismissed when he flattens his tongue against your slit.

"Say my name louder."

"Rafe."

"Would you do anything I say to come?" Rafe asks, taking the opportunity to get something from you. And you're willing.

"Yes," you whimper, tipping your head back against the bed. "Anything."

"Moan louder for me, baby."

You do.

"Play with your tits."

Your hands push up your top till your breasts are exposed, using a hand to grope the flesh, brushing your fingers through your perked nipples. Groaning from pleasure, it arouses Rafe further, his fingers penetrating deeper and faster into your cunt, while his mouth returns to your clit.

"Oh, god," you moan, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as your pleasure crescendos through your body. Your legs attempt to squeeze close from the sensitivity, to push Rafe out, but with one strong arm, he widens them instead. "Please don't stop."

Rafe doesn't respond but you can feel him grinning into your pussy, flattening his tongue across your slit as your core pulses around his digits. Nothing at this moment could be more perfect, the slow-burning building to your orgasm, the pleasure rippling through your veins.

Nothing can ruin it.

Until you hear your brother calling out your name.

"Shit," you swear, your heart rate spiking through the roof, and a hand slips between your thighs to push Rafe away. But he doesn't move. "Rafe—fuck," a clever roll of his tongue against your heat causes your mind to short-circuit, and you limp back onto the bed as Dean's voice grows louder.

Like he's outside your door.

"Rafe, please," you beg.

"Please what?" Rafe taunts, lifting his head from between your thighs, the lower half of his face dripping with your arousal, while his eyes gleamed that same mischief he had the other night. "Make you come? Or stop?"

You don't know what you want either, and it doesn't help that Rafe continues to stroke your cunt, his thumb rubbing your clit to make up for the absence of his hot mouth. Your legs twitch from the act, again, attempting to close around him, but he pushes them further apart.

Your door rattles. And Dean calls out your name again.

"Are you in there?" He asks, "are you okay?"

No, you want to rasp, but nothing comes out. Rafe grins devilishly, before lowering himself back onto your clit and sucks harder—quickening the arrival to your blinding climax.

"Rafe," you whisper roughly, your mind caught between two forces. The door continues to rattle as Dean tries to force the lock open, a protective trait of him needing to make sure you're okay, while Rafe has you in the most compromising position.

With the worst person.

"Go out with me."

"What?"

You think you heard him wrong, that Rafe definitely isn't asking you out while he's between your legs. But you didn't. Rafe lifts his head and repeats the question once more. "Go out with me."

"I—"

"Come on," Rafe soothes, his fingers fastening their strokes, your walls clenching around him. "Go out with me. Or else, your big brother's gonna come in and see you mid-orgasm."

"W–What do you mean?"

"I know you don't want me to stop," Rafe taunts with a smirk, "And I know your brother probably got some way of getting that door to open. So, you got two choices: either accept my date and come, or your big brother is gonna see me between your legs."

"I—" Your breath shudders as Rafe's signet cool ring presses against your heat. "You're despicable."

"Yet I'm here," Rafe lowers himself back on your clit, sucking languidly as if you don't have a threatening force outside your door, seconds from being let in. Your heart piercing out of your chest. "Come on, princess, go out with me."

Your mind is caught in a tailspin. Half of you want to tell him to fuck off, that you can't believe Rafe is using your moment of weakness to coerce you into a date, but the other part is wrapped in the absolute pleasure of your onslaught orgasm. The white-searing hot power that's coursing down your spine.

"Fuck," you say breathily, eyes fluttering shut from the way Rafe suctions on your clit. "Fuck, fuck, okay, okay. I–I'll go out with you."

You don't see it, but Rafe is grinning between your thighs. He goes faster, harder, pushing you over the edge as you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moans leaving your lips.

And just in that moment, the locks disengages.

With whatever mental capacity you have left, you quickly shove Rafe onto the floor and throw your blanket over your body. Dean barges into the room, blinking out his drunken haze, while his eyes scans the space for any disruptions.

"Did you hear me?" He asks with a subtle slur, scanning your face to see you comfortable in bed. He doesn’t know what got you here. "I've been calling out to you."

Your heart is hammering, and you pray that Dean doesn't approach the bedframe or look on the floor to find any semblance of his enemy hiding out. Rafe, thankfully, doesn't make a sound—though, you’d imagine he's hiding behind a cocky smile at the situation he's in.

"I—" you don't know how to answer him, "I was listening to music. Sorry."

"Oh," Dean says, taking the excuse as acceptable. He glances back at the door. "Why was your door locked?"

"It—it's a party," you explain, surprised at how easy the lie is flying off your tongue. "I didn't want drunk people to stumble up here and have sex on my bed."

"Right, right, smart," Dean nods, and he turns back around. "Alright. I'm going back down. Sleep tight."

You hum back in response as Dean stumbles out of your room, and you finally feel like you can expel a breath. The moment the lock clicks, Rafe lets out a rich laugh, straightening himself into a sitting position as he turns his head and connects his gaze with yours.

"Nice lie."

"Fuck off."

"Can't, you promised me a date," Rafe grins cheekily, pulling himself to his feet while he holds out something in his hand. "I think this belongs to you."

Your panties.

You snatch it from him, heat flushing your face as you want to nothing more than to bury yourself into your sheets. Well, you technically already did. Regardless, Rafe takes one final look around the room, at you, before he says, "I'll text you." And before he leaves, he gives you a sharp look and a reminder, "And actually respond."

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Navigation — Part 02 | Part 03 | Part 04

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[the-ancient-dragons]

EXTRA OVERCOMPLICATED ICEWIIIIINGS

You know how it goes, Joy Ang is cool and I'm not yadda yadda move on.

Details and explanation below!

Otherwise, next week is the last Pyrrhian tribe: NightWings!!!! See you then!

More overcomplicated dragons.

If the RainWings are the design that destroys Joy's work the least, this one takes the original IceWings and tosses them out the window. Going into this design I knew it would be hard, but boy was I unprepared to get art block for 2 months because of it.

I eventually found my inspiration in the girdled, spiny, and horned lizards, They. Are. So. Freaking cool. If you think a crocodile skink is awesome, look up girdled lizards. Not as fancy with the eyeliner but they are SPIKY!

I fell in love in particular with the giant girdled lizard. I knew I wanted the scales of the IceWing to look rough and like they were made of actual ice or diamonds - or covered in frozen sleet and snow - and this lizard was basically perfect inspo for that. Also, blue spiny lizards. They are basically real life IceWings, full stop.

But even though I had perfect references to draw from, I still struggled with the head shape. I wanted them to feel like a reptilian polar bear, which is why I slightly blunted it, but I think I should have gone with a more angular shape instead. I can always change it later when I do their full-body.

I did have a very fun time with the horns, however. I wanted them to be a mix of narwhal teeth and icicles (yes, narwhal 'horns' are actually overgrown teeth. One tooth, usually, but sometimes they can have two!!). Before I get distracted I should explain how they grow: the scales at the base of the horn are constantly growing and essentially create the horn. That's what gives them their narwhal-like spirals.

I chose a similar approach to the neck spikes (untangling that mess was fun, let me tell you. Grids are very useful when doing many scales/spikes). At the base of each one you'll notice a scale forming it. On the back, I wanted to give a good side profile of the spikes. Technically, they are ever-growing, and need to be trimmed or sharpened constantly.

Now, as I was drawing them, I asked myself: why do IceWings need a mane of spikes?

A stupid question, you might wonder, but to me it's very important. Animals look the way they do for survival. So, while it's important visually for the ice theme, how could they be explained scientifically?

And then, when thinking of polar bears, I got my answer.

How the hell does a giant sparkly dragon hunt in the north? Seals would probably be part of their diet, but it's hard to sneak up on them if you're a ten ton reptilian flying creature, so I imagine they would tackle the problem like a polar bear would by waiting by a breathing hole and pouncing at the right moment. They already look like a frozen snowbank, so that part is easy.

But any hungry polar bear would be doing the same thing, and like a giant dragon, they would be waiting downwind of the breathing hole too. They wouldn't pose a threat to adult dragons or dragonets larger than them, but in real life polar bears are dangerous hunters and prey on humans. Why wouldn't it prey on a dragonet it thinks it can take on? Things in the WOF universe seem to be extra big (or scavengers/humans are tiny) so I think it would be a feasible for a desperate bear to hunt a dragon. They cannibalize, anyway, so going after another apex predator isn't out of the question. In this case, the horns and neck spikes would be a dragonet's saving grace, discouraging attacks from behind and especially on their necks. A bear's teeth could never get through their scales, but they could still crush their airways and choke them, and the spikes would keep them away from their necks and protect them from that fate. As they grow up, the neck spikes' length and strength could be used to determine a dragon's health and help them select good partners.

Finally, continuing with the bear theme: for the scales, I took inspiration from polar bear fur (which is actually hollow) to help design how IceWings preserve their body heat. In polar bears, its used to make them look white by reflecting the light of the sun, but in IceWings it could keep the cold out. Air pockets would create a barrier between them and the outside elements, and whatever gets in would meet their thick layer of fat that does the real warming. Yes, IceWings would be squishy, but you'd probably poke your eye out or stick permanently to their side a la tongue to cold metal pole.

Don't hug IceWings; they're very cold.

[cabinetofquriosities]

Sea of Love

Agatha x Rio || Warnings: extreme fluffiness and smut

Leave a review on Ao3!

(Listen along while reading)

Full playlist

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Once she helped Billy find his brother, Agatha decided to take time on her own to figure out her after life. She wasn’t ready to leave the Earth behind. Not only because she was afraid to face Nicky, but also because she was finally allowing herself to exist outside of anger and fear. She wanted to be a better person once she truly passed. In the meantime, she had more to do.

The first on her list of priorities was the very woman she had run from for centuries. After had finally coming to her senses and forgiving her, she was not about to spend any more time apart.

Rio had shown up to a house in the woods where they first met after being given a note by Billy saying Agatha had left something behind for her. She had been mourning Agatha, wondering if she had truly crossed over.

She couldn’t find her in the underworld and she feared she was beyond her reach the way that Nicky was. She was supposed to be reunited with Nicky once Agatha crossed over, allowing his return only with the presence of both of his parents in a cosmic curse to her. It was Rio’s punishment for letting Nicky live that she wouldn’t see him in the afterlife until Agatha followed. When Agatha began outrunning her, she was unknowingly depriving Rio of Nicky as well. Now, Agatha was dead, Nicky was still gone, and Rio had no family left. She felt utterly betrayed by the sacred balance, by the authority she had served her entire existence.

It felt like Agatha was still around, but she convinced herself that she was losing her senses to grief the way that so many others did. She couldn’t be a hypocrite. She had to face her loss the way that so many others had. She had done it with Nicky and now she had to do it with Agatha. She had to feel what it was like to be on the other side of this.

The house was a mid-century beauty. It was wooden with red and orange stained glass. It was familiar.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, finding a familiar outfit waiting for her in the entry way. She stripped down with a small smile before slipping on the diamond coated black lace.

Looking around, she saw the house from the Witch’s road where she reconnected with Agatha. Where Agatha had rejected her. She wondered if this was the gift of a memory from her beloved or a last twist of the knife.

She looked into the mirror, looking over her outfit with the plunging neckline. She was in the same exact position that Agatha was in when Rio had leaned in and said-

“Boo.”

Rio jumped out of her skin as the cool puff of a ghost’s breath brushed against the back of her neck. She whipped around to find Agatha in the same outfit from that night. She looked stunned in a way she rarely was and stumbled back.

“Careful…” Agatha said, taking her hand to steady her.

“You’re dead,” Rio said, feeling her ice cold fingers and seeing the slight glow emanating from her.

“And now I’m-“

“A FUCKING GHOST?!” Rio spat out, “Great. Of course. My ex wife found the one thing that would piss me off the most…”

“What is your issue with ghosts?” Agatha asked, crossing her arms.

“They are completely out of line with the natural order of things!”

“Oh, whatever,” she said, waving away the idea of the universal life cycle, “Hell… or wherever I’m going… can wait.”

Rio rolled her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t let Agatha be pulled under. She had a place by her side carved out in the afterlife she had managed to find enough loopholes to secure it so long as Agatha kept a low profile there. A cottage modeled after the one they had before everything had fallen apart. There, the two of them would be able to be together again with their son. However, she never expected her to draw it out this long.

“Agatha… If you just cross over… I would never allow you to be punished for anything you have done on Earth. I have a hidden place for you. Okay? You don’t have to be afraid of that.”

Rio wanted to tempt her to the other side, but wouldn’t use the cottage or their son to do that.

“While I appreciate all of that, truly, I’m not ready to be confined to a hidden alcove in the underworld. Not yet. One day, once I make a better mark here, I will.”

Rio sighed, hissing through gritted teeth. This woman would never stop driving her crazy. It would be better to wait for her to finish things out and voluntarily come rather than crossing over now and wreaking havoc out of restlessness. Or, even worse, refusing to see Nicky. She wanted them to be a family again in the underworld, but only if all parties were ready. She wanted it to last forever.

If anything, Agatha making things right on Earth would make it easier to keep her by her side without hiding her once she reached the afterlife. She would never be able to cleanse herself completely of all she had done, but she could do enough good to even the scales. A balanced conscience would allow her to stay within the rules of the sacred balance once she was finally taken to Rio’s side of existence.

“Fine. I will not… interfere,” Rio said with pure exasperation.

“Thank you,” Agatha said honestly, holding her hand in hers.

“So… you’ve already learned how to be corporeal. I can feel your touch,” Rio said, brushing her thumb over the back of her hand.

“I’ve always been a-“

“Quick study. I know,” Rio said with a wistful smile.

“Come on,” she said with a pout, her voice dropping low, “You don’t want to stay angry with me…”

Rio’s heart raced the way it always did when she took that tone. She smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Suddenly, Sea of Love began playing over the speakers. Agatha draped her arms across her shoulders, gazing into her eyes.

Rio knew she had no hope of holding a grudge when they began to dance. She rested her hands on Agatha’s waist and pulled her close. She hoped against hope that this was their new beginning, their new chance. For once, she believed that things would be better.

“Is this us now?” Rio asked softly.

“What do you mean?” Agatha asked, tilting her head.

“Are we…” only Agatha could cause Death to be tongue tied, “Is this our relationship now? Are we together?”

Rio didn’t want to put her heart out there again to have it shattered. Agatha’s lips relaxed into a smile.

“Yes, Rio. We are.”

“Good,” she said, blushing at her own trepidation.

“An unbelievably powerful celestial being who can’t believe that someone would stay with them? Now I’ve seen it all.”

“You didn’t want me before…”

A veil of sadness fell over Agatha’s face. She regretted every cruel act she had done to Rio. She understood why she treated her that way after Nicky, but it didn’t make it any better. She cradled her cheek with one of her hands.

“I always wanted you,” Agatha said, “I was just… I wanted someone to blame. It wasn’t fair to you. But I never stopped loving you. You are the only woman who has ever had my heart. You still have it. You will always have it.”

Rio’s eyes welled with unshed tears.

“I felt so alone in the world without you,” Agatha said in a shameful whisper.

“You won’t ever be alone again,” Rio said, blinking out tears that Agatha wiped away while her own rolled down her cheeks.

“Why does this feel like we’re renewing our vows?” Agatha joked, sniffing.

“Because we just did.”

“At least we didn’t need the ‘Until death do you part’ line in there.”

“I always thought it was strange in today’s society that marriage had to end at death.”

“Agreed. A serious commitment issue. You’re stuck with me forever,” Agatha said.

“Good,” she said, leaning in.

Rio closed the space between them. She locked their lips in a kiss, tightening her arms around her waist. Their body temperatures were finally at the same level. Death and the dead.

Agatha licked the inside of Rio’s mouth, tasting her. She cupped her chin and pulled back, looking into her eyes. Rio’s pupils were blown out, her lipstick smudged.

“Let me take care of you,” she breathed, putting a hand on Rio’s chest.

She guided her back onto the couch, pushing Rio and forcing her to sit. Rio opened her legs before realizing she was wearing a body suit. She sighed, scrambling to take it off. Agatha took her hand and shook her head. Rio tilted hers in confusion.

Agatha suddenly turned more translucent, her ghostly form melding with Rio’s. She filled her lover’s body with her own consciousness, moving for her. She undid her bodysuit, slipping it off. Rio gasped as Agatha slid her hands over her own body.

Agatha rose from Rio’s form, looking down at her. Rio’s heart was racing from the intense experience of being possessed. She smiled up at her.

“Let me see… what new things I can do to you…”

She reached down, her hand disappearing into her abdomen. Her energy spread throughout Rio’s body, reaching through every nerve. With one flick of her hand, the other woman arched up, shaking violently from the all consuming pleasure. Agatha moaned along with her, able to feel whatever she felt. They were connected in ways she hadn’t felt before.

She wiggled her fingers, making them both tremble. Rio felt arousal rush from the pit of her to her cunt. Agatha’s touch forced her body to ungulate. She turned her onto her front, bending her over the couch. Rio gasped and rutted against the cushion.

Agatha’s lips brushed against her ear. She was swept away by the pleasure they shared, sinking further into the woman squirming below her.

“Fuck… mmm… Do you feel me?” She whispered.

“Yes…” Rio gasped, “More than I ever have.”

Rio thrust her hips over the cushion, gasping and grinding like a feral animal. Agatha hummed, surging through her until Rio’s body finally seized, her climax washing over her and Agatha alike. The two of them cried out, cumming together. Agatha slid her hand out of her, becoming corporeal again. She wrapped her arms around Rio from behind her. The two caught their breath and languished in the comfort of the other.

“That was incredible,” Rio breathed.

“It really was.”

Enough time passed and they were able to get up. Rio stood on shaky legs before sitting on the couch. Agatha joined her, sitting on her lap and nuzzling herself into the crook of her neck.

“The dead have better sex. Who knew,” Agatha said with a satisfied smile.

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If you enjoyed this story, please reblog it!

Thank you for reading ♥️

[thecraftydragonc]

Hello everyone, I am opening up donation commissions! Specifically for these donation drawings the cause I want to focus on is the ongoing genocide and humanitarian crisis in Palestine. It is more important than ever to donate to help Palestinians as Israel's attacks only get worse by the hour. It may be easy to feel disconnected from something happening on the other side of the world, or that there’s nothing you can do to help. However, even just a small act of kindness can change someone's life. I know this small donation campaign won’t single handedly change the world, but I am hoping it can be that small act of kindness that someone needs right now. 

So, how will this Donations for Drawings campaign work? It’s pretty simple, you donate to a cause that helps Palestinians and I will draw something for you! The more you donate, the better the drawing will be, but no donation is too small! This campaign will run for 2 weeks from 5/29 to 11:59pm PST on 6/12. Additionally the campaign won’t end until we reach the goal of at least $100 in donations (but we can go over the $100 goal in the 2 week timeline). I am accepting donations to family fundraisers, eSims, and donations to organizations/charities, however escape funds and eSims are a priority right now. If you need help figuring out where to donate, here are some options. This isn’t every fundraiser out there but it’s a good place to start.

Family Fundraisers (These are all vetted fundraisers): Gaza Funds (If you’re having trouble deciding on a family to donate to this site will automatically suggest a fundraiser when you open it) Operation Olive Branch Help Gaza Gaza Evacuation Relief Fund fundsforgaza | Instagram | Linktree

eSims: https://gazaesims.com/

Organizations/Charities: PCRF CareForGaza Supporting Displaced Families in Gaza https://piousprojects.org/campaign/2680 State of Palestine | World Food Programme Doctors Without Borders The National Emergency Appeal: Medical Aid for Palestinians Crips for eSims for Gaza | Chuffed | Non-profit charity and social enterprise fundraising (if you can’t donate an eSim yourself you can donate here)

Once you donate you need to send proof of your donation to me. This can be done through a direct message or this google form https://forms.gle/bUzTb4bgCefc3Wec8. Proof of donation should include a timestamp, what type of donation you made, and how much you donated. Please remove or blackout any personal identification or banking information. Also, specifically for eSim donations you must also show that you forwarded the eSim to gazaesims@gmail.com. I am only accepting donations made during 5/29 or later.

For the drawings themselves, I am up for drawing anything (though I’m best at drawing dragons), Oc’s or Canon characters, just nothing that is NSFW, gore, or has hateful imagery. In your message please include a link to the character's profile (like a toyhouse page or wiki for canon characters) and/or include a reference image. The more you donate the better the drawing will be! Images of Palestinian solidarity can also be included in the drawing for free if you’d like, just specify that in your message. Additionally, these drawings will likely be posted to promote this donation campaign as well as donating to Palestinian causes in general. I can either tag you in these uploads or you can remain anonymous if you wish. 

Thank you for reading all of the info for the donation commission! If you have any questions feel free to ask.

Additionally, if you want to help Palestinians but unfortunately can’t donate, there are still so many ways you can help! You can participate in boycotts https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott, do your daily click https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/, call and email your representatives to demand a ceasefire, and keep yourself educated by listening to Palestinian voices and learning from resources like https://decolonizepalestine.com/.

[dontbelasagnax]

Ok fine! You’ve convinced me! I’ll learn how to draw specifically so I can draw codywan kissing, you’ve spread your gospel successfully

…

How do you draw tho fr cuz I can doodle like, funky lookin birds but people is fully out of my depth send help

AAAA HELL YEAHHHH!!!!! LET'S GOOOO!!!!!

You've opened a can of worms asking me for art advice so *cracks knuckles* buckle up.

I sort of (only a little bit) use the Loomis method for easy head drawing. Here is a playlist of YouTube videos by Proko. Highly, highly recommend that channel for your art tutorial needs!

I start with a circle. For side profiles, I draw a line down the side of the circle to determine where the features will sit upon. I draw a triangular shape to mark where the orbital socket is. Around the middle point of the circle is where the jawline ends and the ear begins so draw a line there. There are proportion rules which are good guidelines when starting out in art but since I've been doing this my entire life, I have a feel for things and just wing it. That's to say, I put in a line implying the jaw based on vibes.

Next, I draw the eyebrows and brow ridge. Then the nose. I find I majorly base my proportions on this area so if anything is off, it throws the rest of the face off.

Then I draw the lips and chin... or in Obi-Wan's case, his beard. I will mark in his sideburns and hairline as well. Now, about ears: generally the top of the ear begins right around the top of the eyebrow and stops at the base of the nose. At this point I like to draw his eye, define the cheekbone, and refine the eyebrow. I'll finish scribbling in hair and that's it!

(Cody is much the same but I forgot to take useful progress pics 😂)

Extended Art Advice 👇

Tip #1: Draw lightly. Do not ever grip your pencil tight. This only leads to pain. You will notice I didn't erase at all. This is partly because I know what marks to make because I've done it a million times before and also because my lines are soft enough I can make lots of them and choose to deepen the ones that work.

Tip #2: Practice, practice, practice. Artistic skill is just loads and loads of accumulated knowledge and muscle memory from practice. This sounds boring but, in reality, you should make it fun.

Tip #3: Draw from observation/USE REFERENCE! The only reason I can get away without using reference when I'm feeling lazy is because I've drawn the same things over and over enough times it stuck. Aka I did lots of practice.

Now, to combine all these tips together, let's talk about how to use reference and how to make practice fun.

Reference is a huge aid when drawing at any point in your art journey. But I've found that in order to learn from what you're looking at, you need to think critically.

You obviously have something you want to draw. Reference helps you with that. You'll start out trying to draw what you see. Eventually you will run into an obstacle where you've messed up and things aren't looking good. This is to be expected. Every time this happens, think about what isn't working and find solutions with your reference. Analyze your subject to find your answers. Draw it again. Do not be afraid of failure. Each time you fail, you must look for a solution and this will lead you closer to your goal. This is how you grow as an artist.

I know, it sounds dreadfully boring and like a shit ton of work. It is a lot of work but you can make it fun! You love Obi-Wan and Cody so make Pinterest boards of Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison. Whatever you want to practice (may that be eyes, mouths, hands, hair, the face as a whole, etc) draw them. Ever hear tracing is bad? Fuck that. It's a perfectly valid tool to help you learn. If you're drawing digitally, pull up your reference in the art program of your choice, lower the opacity a little, make a new layer and trace what you see. I honestly find tracing to be very hard so when I've done this, I prefer to try to find shapes that will aid me when I'm actually drawing. If you're drawing traditionally, you can print out the photo and trace over it with a tracing paper or use a lightbox. You can also up the brightness on your computer screen and tape a piece of paper and trace that way.

Photos aren't the only references you can use! You can always look to your favorite artists' work and try to figure out how they do it. Often artists will break things down into more easily digestible shapes that will help you better understand how things work. Remember, if you ever copy or trace someone's art, it is for learning purposes only and you shouldn't post it. Feel free to take elements of people's art that you like and put your own spin on it though. For instance: I really love how this one artist draws men's tits so I studied a bunch of their art and now I'm much better at drawing them.

Oh and did you think you only get practice in while studying? Wrong! There's no reason you should shy away from trying to make the art you really want just because your skills aren't the most refined. Spoiler alert: you will grow the most when you push yourself out of your comfort zone. Draw codywan kissing. Draw it really enthusiastically and through profuse swearing and gritted teeth... but never a clenched hand. Don't hold back from the fun stuff just because it's hard. Aim high, land low, and shoot even higher next time.

In the beginning it will be especially frustrating. You'll feel like everything you make is a failure and nothing works out. You'll feel like you're not making any progress. Trust me, you are making progress and I believe in you.

If something really isn't working out and you find yourself growing distressed, take a break. It might last an hour or a week. Just take the break. Don't push it. Come back with fresh eyes and less stress. We all have days where nothing comes out right. Sometimes I can't even draw anything resembling a human face. It's okay. Whisper-yell expletives at your artwork and take the break. It will be okay.

With all that said, happy drawing and even happier codywan kissing!! 🧡💋🩵

[aleebeesplats]

Soul bond[OUTDATED]

“An eternity alone is a cruel thing to be subjected to. To be surrounded but isolated, heard but forgotten, so powerful, yet so weak at the same time. The story is your life, but is that really all there is to it? Is that why you did it? Allowed them to exist despite the obvious growing issue? You wanted to feel understood despite not knowing who you were or where you began. You’ve crafted life at the expense of their freedom. You’ve replicated freedom through life.”

More info about this au under cut

This really started as a joke cuz I wanted to draw more Stan and Mari friendship art but as god has it it’s not so much a joke anymore(yay). This whole AU centers around Stanley and Mariella “becoming human”.

Character refs for Stan and Mari. I might change some stuff up with their colors and designs but this is the main idea for now.

In this AU Mariella now works in the same building as Stanley and her job is to attend meetings. Employee 317 did this everyday of every month of every year. She first meets Stanley while waiting for those who were supposed to attend, surprised and confused at the sudden disappearance of everyone.

Mariella and Stanley are creations of the Narrator, so they don’t look exactly human because of that.

(They have normal noses in side profiles)

I was inspired by Friday Night Funkin for their stylized faces. In terms of expression they are much more animated in comparison to the Curator or the Narrator.

Speaking of Nar-Nar, here’s the man himself. His first form is more like a “concept” than an actual “appearance” as he didn’t really care about what he looked liked and cared more about getting through with the story. His current form is much more human and he often spends time in it outside of the parable in his office. I wanted to keep his figure blocky and sharp cuz I went by squares as his main image.

Now the Parable wouldn’t be anything without the building, lo and behold “Coworker”.

I suck at drawing buildings, but for all you need to know for now is that it always expanding in the inside (where the story takes place), and also it is alive, capable of thought and emotion to some extent. Yayyy living infrastructure.

Some additional early sketches I made while trying to figure out stuff.

I thought it would be funny if Nar and Curie dated for a week before realizing they swung different ways. Things are good between them but it’s a little awkward at times. I was stuck between making Nar-Nar an eldritch creature or just an old man, but then again why can’t he do both.

Quick height chart doodle. The egotistical old man strikes once again, he really made himself so tall because he thinks it’s funny being able to see over people’s heads. In a way they look like Kirby to him.

That’s it for now. I’ll try to not burn myself out so that I can draw more for this au. It seems shallow right now but that’s on purpose‼️

Also, none of the things I draw in this AU are meant to be romantic. They are Queer-platonic at most. This is just me exploring bonds in hard times +what it means to be human (self-projecting like hell).

[mcytblingsbracket]

Welcome to MCYTblings!

Hello everyone! I have decided I really enjoy running brackets, so I am here to run a mcyt siblings bracket! I'm personally familiar with the empires/traffic life/hermitcraft side of mcyt, but any mcyt fandom is allowed here for this bracket :D

Obviously, this is characters not creators and this is for fun/entertainment, so please keep this lighthearted! Tonetags help convey that you're just being silly or not serious, so click here for a masterlist of them. You can submit siblings from canon, fanon, or personal headcanons, even ones commonly shipped together, just don't do shipping content in the context of them being related.

Current Blog Activity: The MCYTblings V2 Bracket has concluded! Feel free to create celebratory works (or continue working on anything you promised via propaganda) and tag the blog in the, for I will continue to reblog :D

Create your propaganda and send it in the ask box/tag me in it :D

TAGS

#mcytblings polls

#mcytblings info

#mcytblings propaganda

#mcytblings update

#mcytblings other

INFO

Polls are set to one week and I'll post the next wave of polls soon after it ends.

If you tag this account with propaganda, I will reblog it. If you reblog a post with the text box, I will reblog it. If you put propaganda in the ask box, I will post reblog it. Basically I'll reblog anything, I'm not picky.

Submitted siblings can be literally anyone in the MCYT content sphere you want. They can have age gaps, it can be found family vibes, it can be adopted, it can be biological, they could be from different spheres of mcyt, there can be any amount of characters in the sibling ship , etcetc! For example, you can submit Grian & Pearl as siblings, but you can also submit Grian & Pearl & Jimmy & Lizzie as siblings or whatever else :D

Character & Character (*sibling name here, if they have one*)

Once we get to the end, if all runs well and people enjoy this/want me to run another, there is a high chance that I will start another version of mcytblings with a new set of submissions. New siblings can be added and old siblings who lost can make a comeback (aka anything goes, but previous winners can’t run again). Depends, honestly :p

Profile picture is drawn by @joifee go check them out: https://joifee.tumblr.com/post/740267745344651264/roseblings-my-beloved-late-night-drawing-they

This account is run by @deityoftherain who uses they/fae/star pronouns. As one may expect just on that information, please be as wonky and fun with your headcanons and such when doing propaganda! I’m not going to censor things, though I do ask you to promote your ships and not put down the opposing ships unnecessarily, thanks :D

Current Bracket

Winners

V1: Jimmy & Lizzie aka Seablings

V2: Acho & Scott aka Denholm Siblings

[arnaerr]

2024 summary

Each year, I want to write some kind of summary, but each year, I get too overwhelmed with the holidays season to do so. This time, I came prepared, so I wrote this text a bit earlier bc I knew that by now I will be a sleepy shrimp.

2024 was one of the toughest years for me, if not the hardest one so far. Dealing with the lay-off and long term unemployment took a hard toll on me and my mental health, but I'm still here despite it all, and I'm still creating. Really happy that I finally managed to find a job and can finally rest from grinding portfolio work and fighting for my life. Somehow this year turned out to be the most productive too. Something-something, strong emotions (even negative ones) are the best fuel for the inspiration.

This year, I focused more on my brushwork so I can bring my ideas to reality faster and avoid hurting my hand more - and I'm quite satisfied with the results, my hand's pain is almost inexistent at this point. Dance classes, crochet, and playing Elden Ring with the controller also helped to gently strengthen my hands so they are better at handling painting for a longer time now. I also tried to make my works more complex and thought through in general, focused more on the storytelling aspect and more interesting composition decisions. Really liked playing around with this stuff and can't wait to experiment even more. For a long time, I thought that my art has value only if it's being realistic and generic in terms of the game industry style. It took me a long time to acknowledge and accept this, as well as the fact how my painting style is a reflection of myself; I'm quite timid and shy in nature, and it also applied to my painting approach, I was always afraid to do bold brushstrokes, going wild with colours, showing my feelings through my art, expressing myself openly. And I feel like this year, I learned to be not afraid of who I am, not to try to hide my impressionistic approach to the painting behind smooth and "proper" brushwork. I'm not trying to fit into the standard anymore; sure, it would make my life easier in terms of finding an art job quicker and being more popular on social media if I had a more generic art style. But it feels so much better to allow myself to be who I am.

Elden Ring obsession was like the breath of the fresh air. For the several times this year, I was so, so close to having a severe art block, to losing myself in commissions & portfolio work, to losing the wonder the act of creation gives me. Elden Ring made me feel very inspired, gave me the courage to try to draw many things I was afraid to draw before; I really enjoy being a part of this fan community, and I've met so many wonderful and talented people throughout last months that it constantly fuels my inspiration; artists, writers, cosplayers, lore enthusiasts. In the last couple of years, I approach my social media profiles like a personal blog of sorts, not focusing on the painting only. And I really enjoyed sharing different sides of my hobbies with you, writing mini essays with the game analysis, and discussing it all in comments in DMs.

I couldn't survive this year without your support, and I'm forever grateful. Every like, reshare, and comment brightens my day. Special thanks to the people who bought my prints, donated, or joined my Patreon - you literally saved me. The fact that I had to rely on social media as the main source of income for so long did some damage to the ways how I view my own art, sometimes I feel too sensitive about numbers and algorithms and start to view my art as a content that has to be popular - I'm slowly but surely try to go away from this and to reconnect with my art once again; I want my art to be even more personal and detached from the popular needs; I need to get weirder.

Sometimes it feels surreal that so many people are interested in me and what I do.

Hoping for gentler times in 2025. Thank you

[meryachkins]

so. um. i wanted to post something about my mc. but i realized i need to Explain her a little. even if my english is wonky. even if no one besides me will like her. i'm willing to sacrifice my pride lmao ( pls don't beat the shit out of me because of misspelling or weird use of words or horrendous grammary. i'm silly your honor )

SO. there's her profile thing ?? i guess ??? and yes. my every character is armenian, thank you very much. es hay em what can i say 😭

cr for sheet: @kiwiplaetzchen

aaaaand there we go with A Lot Of facts sbout her ...

about blood status ! i believe she doesn't really know about all that stuff. in my head magic armenia is tied together with non-magic one, because there's no magic school and communities are small and local. wizards live like muggles, live side by side with them. therefore blood of her family is so mixed, that i can't even say is she half-blood or what.

and she doesn't know english very well. her handwriting is in block letters and it's stiff and sloppy. often when she's yapping about something she switches to her mother tongue without realizing it. and then she tries to translate her rant, but fails miserably lmao. that's why she asks her friends for help with textbooks in classes and why she hates potions ( she doesn't know all that terminology for ingredients )

during the first days at hogwarts she was a little shy, but quickly became friend with poppy and natty. then she beat the shit out of sebastian in the duel and felt Very confident because of everyone's vivid reaction, so she started to befriend every person in this school lol. she's very tactile and kinda touch-starved even though she always pissed her siblings off with the need to touch and hug and peck Everyone ( but they always let her do it )

also. she's aroace. she really loves her friends, but she do not understand ( and need ) romantic love and relationshisp. i mean, she doesn't really know she's aroace she live in 19 century lmao. but not once in her live she fell in love

she have 5 siblings: two oldest siblings zabel and levon, older siblings lilith and masis and smol sis asthik ( who's a menace to society. ) she loves them to death, but in the summer after 5th year there was a huge drama about levon and maro was Fighting for him with zabel ( who's a homophobic bitch, but i'm the one who made her like this so i'm not shitting her 😭 )

and they lived in constantinople, but when father died they moved to erivan, hometown of their mother. after this she have some kind of prophecies about something bad happening with their family and maro being their "savior". that's why maro ended up in hogwarts, like it's the only school except koldovstoretz that her mother know about. and there's some relatives in england, who left erivan when it became part of russian empire in 1829 ( i think ??? i'm not too familiar with dates, but i want this story to work ... )

also her patronus was the van cat ( or vana katu, it's a landrace of cats found around lake van ) like her father's. but she doesn't cast patronus often so she found out that her patronus has changed to the borzoi at 6th year. her neighbor from a wealthy family bred borzoi from russian empire and she fell in love with these dogs from the very first time she saw them. it's kind of a symbol of her homesickness and yearning for family, for her life in erivan.

so. um. if you read all that text above. thank you. i really want to be in fandom and to show my maro to everyone 🤲 i will post arts with her. i guess ........ and i really want to draw other people's characters !!! i just like the vibes in here lol

[choicesficwriterscreations]

July OC of the Month: Luna Auclair

Please welcome July 2024's OC of the Month: @peonierose's Luna Auclair

Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

Learn more about Luna below

1- In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC. 

I love how passionate and carefree Luna is. She loves and gives without expecting anything in return. She is an amazing character, one I’d love to be friends with (because she’d know some hot guys and could get me a date 😅). Overall, she‘s very sweet, but hurt her friends or family, and you’ll get to know another side of Luna. 

She’s just a good soul with good and bad sides, which I love. Luna is sunshine mixed with a little hurricane. 

2- Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

There are some things Luna and I share. We both struggle with anxiety. We both have a similar eye color (blue-green) and a shade of blonde hair. Hers is lighter than mine. We both share the love we have for our friends and family. We do share the same taste in guys or are somewhat similar 😅. We are different in the sense that Luna is a more creative soul, and she’s less stubborn than me 😅. 

3- What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Luna just wants to leave a good impression on people and life itself. She thinks if you send positivity into the world, good karma will return to you. 

To make memories that’ll last a lifetime. A life well lived and one that’s cherished. 

4- What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

People who are judgmental of others

Liars

Tourists/Locals who endanger animals (in the ocean and on land alike) and litter (throwing their trash everywhere, including the ocean) 

5- If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

Less war, hate and negativity in this world. Just live and let live. 

6- What is your MC / OC's favorite quote or song? 

Luna’s favorite quote is a Hawaiian saying her grandmother always mentions: ‘A’OHE PU’U KI’EKI’E KE HO’A’O ‘IA E PI’I – (No cliff is so tall it cannot be climbed.)

7- Other facts about Luna

Luna got her Bachelor of Fine Arts at the University of Hawaii. She specialized in ceramics, drawing, painting, and sculpture. Currently, she teaches art at the University of Hawaii, but she wants to have her own gallery in Honolulu to showcase her art and show how proud she is to call Honolulu her home.

She actually has a sweets drawer; Bryce always makes fun of her but secretly takes some caramel-covered almonds from Luna’s drawer, and she pretends she doesn’t notice 😅.

Her favorite painting by Lindsay Wilkins is ”Akala Sunset“ (akala = pink in Hawaiian).

8- Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC? 

I created Luna while going through a rough patch in my life. I was fired from my job during COVID, and so many other things were happening, so I was looking for something to help me deal with things. That’s when I found Tumblr and all these wonderful people. At first, I hadn’t even thought of writing anything, but then I kept having this idea for an OC, and I wrote down a fic, and it went from there. 

Luna inspires me daily. To live in the moment, to enjoy life. To spend less time on my phone (even if it’s where all my notes about stories and characters live 😅) and to spend more time with my friends and family. To love pink. Be more positive in life, and not let the bad days win. To simply be more me, my sometimes weird, full-of-energy Aries self.

I‘m also SO grateful I created Luna and all my wonderful stories. Thank you to anyone who’s ever given my characters and stories a chance. I will never be able to express my thanks and gratitude 🥰.

Also, here is a little thank you letter from Luna. 

Dear you,

Whatever happens in life, whether good or bad, don’t take it too personally; don’t let it consume you. Just try to breathe out and let it go (yes, it can be like the song from Frozen 🥰) I learned a long time ago that if you carry hate and bad vibes with you, it’ll be like a bad smell, you can’t get rid of, and you don’t want that do you? So be you!!!!!! However, you choose to be, whatever you wear, how you express yourself. Be you!!!! And maybe live close to a place that has a lot of sun and a beach (just saying, vitamin D is good, you know, and yes, the advice came from Bryce 🥰) 

Whoever needs to hear this: I see you. You are loved; you are worthy. This world wouldn’t be the same place without you in it. Never forget that!

Lots of love Luna

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Congrats on 1k! Can I request N?🩷

for you, @em-prentiss! I hope you love it! 🩷

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: N | prompt: nerves | wc: 0.5k a/n: Inspired by this exchange in episode 1x16 (“Young at Heart”) of The X-Files: “Mulder, I know what you did wasn't by the book.” “Tells you a lot about the book, doesn't it?”

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

“Take the shot, Emily.”

“I can’t.” The unsub is perfectly framed in her scope but she is still adamant, clenching her jaw as a bead of sweat from the back of her neck travels down the length of her spine. “It’s too close. I’ll hit Hotch.”

But just as readily as she knows their protocol—knows that it is against Bureau regulations to unnecessarily endanger the life of a hostage—she also knows their profile. That if their unsub feels boxed in, he’ll go down shooting. And with Hotch in his grasp, that simply isn’t an option.

Undoubtedly thinking the same, Dave does not yield. “It’s the only chance we have,” his gentle yet insistent voice sounds in her earpiece. Even from miles away, she can feel the stress radiating off of him in waves. “You’ve got this. You know it.”

“It’s not by the book, Dave,” she warns, but she’s already shifting her weight forward, her finger brushing lightly against the trigger guard.

“Screw the book.”

With no time left to catastrophize, Emily plants her feet and squares her shoulders, her body becoming an extension of her rifle. Every inch of her posture is perfect, a debutante primed for this over cotillion. 

There’s a click of concentration in her mind, the perfect moment, and on a thin exhale, she pulls the trigger—

—and watches in terror as their unsub and Hotch fall in a grand arc to the hard, unforgiving ground.

“No,” she whispers, her vision tunneling and her blood running cold. Not even a second passes before she is on her feet and running, her heart pounding so hard that she can hear its mocking beat in her ears as the distance between them diminishes, then diminishes some more.

And then she sees Hotch rise on wobbling legs, completely unharmed.

Unable to prevent it, Emily falls as her knees buckle beneath her, just as Hotch stumbles over to her and draws her into a tight hug. “It’s okay,” he pants, as if he, too, needs to hear the words aloud to believe them. “I’m okay.”

“I thought I had hit you,” she says, shivering into his side as he unconsciously pulls her in even closer. “Jesus, Hotch, I don’t know what I would have done if I...”

“I never doubted you for a second,” he reveals. “Not once.” 

With shaky fingers, Emily reaches out and wipes away the spray of the unsub’s blood from his temple and cheek. When their gazes meet, the look in his eyes at her ministration is so tender that she cups his face fully and kisses him on instinct, chaste and sweet.

She pulls back with an embarrassed smile tugging at her parted lips. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Adrenaline.”

Hotch can’t remember ever seeing her—the unbelievable, unflappable Emily Prentiss—look as sheepish as she does before him now, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks. The sight is so endearing that he can’t help but bring his hand to the back of her neck and utter a confession years in the making.

“It’s not just adrenaline for me,” he replies softly, before leaning back in and returning her kiss.