#and getting all those art fight pieces done

[viric-dreams]

I've said before that Roberts is incredibly good at darts... I don't think I ever specified why.

Bonus:

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.

No one could deny that.

Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.

You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.

From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.

Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.

Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.

If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.

Why?…

In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.

Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.

You were his darling from the very beginning…

His everything…

Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,

The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.

A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.

You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.

The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.

“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”

“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”

“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”

“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”

You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.

He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.

Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.

Cared for you…

Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.

Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.

Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.

Not even on your wedding day.

It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.

You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.

Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?

Was he seeing someone else?

Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?

Was she prettier?

Were you not his kind of woman?

Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…

Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?

Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?

Were you not enough for him?

Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.

Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.

He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.

Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.

You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.

What had upset his darling wife?

Who would he have to kill?….

Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.

He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.

Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.

“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.

Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.

“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.

“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.

Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”

You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.

Fake it.

I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…

It might push him further away…

The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.

Something was wrong.

He was sure of it now.

His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.

A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.

“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.

The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.

“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.

Nothing.

You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.

Had you planned on this?

Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?

All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…

Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.

Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.

“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”

Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.

“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.

Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.

“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.

His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.

“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.

Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.

“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.

Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.

You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.

The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.

Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?

No , it couldn’t be…

You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.

“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.

“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.

The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.

If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.

He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.

You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.

Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”

You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.

“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.

What?….How in the world did he do that?…

Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.

“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.

“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.

Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.

Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…

Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.

Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.

It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.

It was all too much at once….

Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.

“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.

He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”

His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.

You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.

“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.

All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.

His darling wife…

His one and only….

It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.

You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.

A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.

“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.

He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.

“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.

“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.

He knew it too…

That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…

Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..

“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.

You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”

Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.

“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”

Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.

“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.

All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.

“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”

His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.

You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.

Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.

“More than anything?…”

“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.

That was when it occurred to you…

Alastor Hartiflet could love…

He’d always been able to….

And he loved you enough to share it with another…

How surreal….

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.

[cinnbar-bun]

Straw Hats- Reversed AU HCs

AU: In which YOU are the character of a very famous franchise, and they are regular people who are fans of your series.

Note: GN!Reader, crack, very unserious

Luffy

Thinks you’re neat! Super cool!

People think he doesn’t really “get” you and just likes you for your awesome powers and/or cool appearance, but he drops like an innocent yet profound tidbit about you that shows he really is thinking of you.

Honestly probably only has a bootleg figure of you courtesy of Ace. It’s goofy as hell but he adores it.

Maybe has one of those printed graphic tees.

Ace and Sabo joke about his love for you but then Luffy throws his slippers at them.

If he sees anything with you on it, he’s just gushing over it.

Loves finding funny comics with you online.

Zoro

Guy who likes you for your powers.

The same guy who is also a weeb in front of the mirror and tries to replicate your awesome moves.

Help his roommates caught him-

I think he’d get those compression shirts/shorts with you or a symbol of yours for when he works out.

Also the guy who’s working out to your voice like those ASMR videos so he can pretend you’re praising him and congratulating him.

Gets into fights with Sanji about who’s the bigger fan.

I don’t see Zoro as the type to “collect” things, but he’d probably have a keychain of you around his belt or something as a good luck charm.

Might even have an action and poseable figure of you like a Figma.

Nami

Likes you lots, but also recognizes your merch potential.

Works alongside Usopp to produce fan merch or zines for you to make money.

Has a unique piece of jewelry with your symbol/iconography to wear.

She’s not wearing “obvious” for merch, because she just isn’t about that.

Probably has a few very expensive figures of yours that are special edition or anniversary editions that she managed to get at a steep discount.

Reads a bit of fanfic but tends to mostly peruse fanart of you.

Tends to have multiple ships for you- she doesn’t really favor one over the other she just thinks they’re interesting.

Likes to do cosplays of your fits, though. She’s gotten very popular for her lovely cosplays. She tends to handmake most of her cosplays, but Usopp and Franky add to the amazing accessories.

Plays the gacha game for your series, and her amazing luck means she gets practically all your units easily.

Usopp

The artist of the group who has seen and had to do heinous things for a commission.

Unlike the others, he IS making a self insert and HE IS DOING ART AND COMICS WITH YOU AND HIM AS THE MAIN COUPLE!

Has made a name for himself of making doujins and art for you. His store has seen lots of purchases for his doujins.

Nami basically is his account manager and has made him raise commission prices many times in order to pay their rent and so he can realize how valued his work is.

He mostly just posts his work but does like answering questions from fans and posting about how awesome you looked in the new episode.

Always making art and stories from you.

Has done fanfiction for you but it’s mostly with his OC/SI and his artwork tends to be more well-known.

Always does special drawings for your birthday and various holidays.

Plays the gacha and has bad luck so he has to whale for your unit. He insists he prefers just regular console or PC gaming instead of gacha.

Sanji

Number one fan, he WILL get into arguments about you and inject you into everything.

All your figures, all your merch, all of it in one specific room dedicated to you. Sanji even has a lifesize figure of you in a cool/cute pose he religiously cleans (and prays to ngl) every day because AINT NO WAY HIS LOVE IS GOING TO GET A SPECK OF DUST ON THEM!!

His work as a chef makes him busy, but he likes to wear small things of you like a brooch or something on his uniform to cheer him up through the day.

Makes videos cooking things you cooked or dishes you liked within the series.

He sometimes shows off his collection and Zoro calls him a loser and they get into fights in the comments.

Commissions art of you (probably Usopp) to hang up in the (Y/n) room.

I feel like he would do a persona/self-insert but also I feel like he’d be like no!!!! I cannot sully my beloved like that!!! So he focuses on just you.

Blocks people who are fans of you and does not like shipping anyone with you, hell no his mellorine is HIS!!!

Has done fanfic, mostly self-insert, and that’s pretty much all he reads. No ships.

Robin

“Oh, (Y/n)? Yes, they are an interesting character. I like them.”

[1 Million word count fic series, tagged: slow burn, character exploration, heavy angst, found family, Book 4 of 7]

“I just think they’re neat.”

Probably the mother fic writer for you and/or one of your ships.

Doesn’t socialize much online, just tends to post and scroll through the fics for you and answers comments under her fic.

Likes to support her fellow creators so she does look into the art and projects other fans have made.

Does try to create her own aesthetics for her blog and fics, but sometimes she just commissions Usopp to make her things for her fics to fit her vision.

Is really into unique and often abstract or “dark” art of you.

Yes you’re her favorite character, yes she will still make you suffer in her fics and art for the ~development~.

It’s a running gag with her peers where they ask her how she will torture them next.

She finds the Nendoroids of you are quite cute, so she bought one to go on her desk.

Franky

Franky likes making garage set figures of you.

He’s also a bit of a dork, so he will often make you pose with a super sentai outfit or large gundam robots (since they’re also a part of his crafting hobby).

Makes videos showing off the new figures he made of you.

He loves you cuz you’re his hero, you just amaze him!

Printed a photo of the art your creator did where you guys were all dressed like super heroes or something- suuuuppper up his alley and he loved seeing it.

He likes collecting the manga/comics for your series and keeps them on his personal shelf.

Franky also helps Nami/others with specific cosplay accessories. Franky is known for his craftsmanship, so he’s made plenty of cosplay gear for others that are above and beyond.

Him and Usopp have collabed to create the original figures of you that Franky adores.

Does those videos where he takes cheaper/smaller figures of you and adds to the base and design to make it more “epic”.

What the hell is “fanfiction”?

Brook

Goes by the username “Soul King” and uploads his covers of your franchise’s music.

He really loves you though so he’s often rocking your shirts while he’s recording the music.

He does a lot of different genres for your theme covers- jazz, heavy metal, lofi, piano, music box- he’s done em all.

Whenever he’s not recording covers of his music and does streams, he very proudly shows his figure of you and a poster he has hanging up on his wall.

Also plays the gacha game, has pretty good luck but never with your units.

“Wow! 5 Sugo-rares! Who are they- GOD DAMN IT IT’S JUST THE OTHERS!!! RATE UP IS A LIE!!!”

Brook is a menace though and I’m gonna keep that under wraps for various reasons.

Maybe in the future I might explain further.

Jinbei

Jinbei is classy, unlike many of the others here (we will not name names).

He’s more likely to “make” his own merchandise for you.

Handmade doll with a lovingly sewn kimono, for example.

Fancy tea set that is painted with your symbols but it’s so subtle and chic that some of his viewers don’t even realize it’s from some random franchise he likes.

He prides himself on his traditional and handmade crafts and you’re just an avenue to experiment with them.

He likes to design the kimonos and outfits with you in mind and the season. He shows the process of creating it in these calm and quiet BTS videos.

Really they are beautiful and the amount of love and skillmanship put into the work he does is fantastic, it’s awe inspiring.

Does not know what a fanfic, a gacha, or what a “fan edit” is. He’s an old man he’s got things to do, man.

[poppy-metal]

that therapy piece was so beautiful:( what if you DID end up divorcing or at least separating, art does end up joining patrick and tashi in their weird whatever the fuck, and we’re like. yeah. thought so. but little do we know that he’s an actual mess that can’t even function, let alone fuck, when he does manage to get it up he bursts into tears before anyone can cum, and as sad tashi and patrick are for their boyfriend they also really need to have a decent orgasm without some guy crying in the background so they have to like…parent trap you back together

the angst of this is so beautiful hold awn...... cause art WOULD be someone who wouldn't realize what an important force in his life you are until you're gone. in my mind, you and him knew eachother since you were kids. didn't start dating till a little before college and then you just..... stayed together. no breakups. hardly any fights. Its not like any love was lost between you two but, there was this kind of lack of...... well, fire. tashi and patrick lit apart of him up inside, and what you refuse to acknowledge is they kinda did the same for you two. you both kinda orbited around patrick and tashi in college, and similarly they orbited back around you. you just couldn't see your importance there - so you extracted yourself from that patricktashi part of your life to devote yourself to art, while he stayed in their lives because he cant live without the kind of passion they ignite in him. the anger, the jealousy, the excitement.

with you gone though its like...... hes floundering. you're so soft, is the thing. arts always depended on your softness. you dont hurt him. you dont make him angry. you're warm and gentle and he can rest his head on your lap and fall asleep like a baby fawn in the middle of the woods with no fear a wolf will come along and rip him apart. in a bad way, you're safe. in a toxic way, being with you is him choosing to not take a leap with patrick or tashi and feel anything uncomfortable.

but in a good way, you're his best friend. in a healthy way, you're his anchor. his north star. and usually thats seen as a bad thing, he knows, love is supposed to be passionate and scary but what about when he wants to be held and just at peace? you've seen him through everything and you stayed. he knows he can put his heart in your hands and you wont crush it. and he loves you for it. you're the most tender, beautiful thing that's ever happened to him.

so its like. those two needs. the fire and the passion and the softness and tranquility. and where art has messed up is seeing them in two different ways. he cant put all his scary, passionate emotions onto you in fear of rejection and ruining what you have. he cant depend on patrick or tashi completely either because he doesn't trust them with his heart like he does with you.

hes left you alone in that sense. because you need the passion too. you needed it from him for so long and maybe your part of the blame is never asking for it. for cutting tashi and patrick out of your life because you were too scared of it at the time. but the longer you spent with art, the more you craved it. the fights, the breakups, the makeup sex. all of that.

so when you leave arts comfort is gone. he thinks, well maybe its for the best. i can take a risk now, i can try this thing with tashi - and even patrick. but it doesn't feel right. the leap doesn't feel good. and he realizes its because it was a leap he was always meant to take with you, together.

all these things patrick and tashi do - he should've done with you. he should've fought with you when you pissed him off. he should've tried to be more sexually adventurous. when tashi kisses him all he can think about is how you should be here. he should've asked why you stopped talking to them - he should've pushed you - he should've - he should've - he should've -

he spends nights at their house because he cant stand being alone in the house you shared. in the empty fucking bed. he'll end up pulling one of your sweaters from the closet you forgot to take with you that still smells like you, vanilla and cashmere, and cry into it like a pathetic slob. hes miserable. he wants you back.

he wants you back so he can love you better. he wants to see you kiss tashi, kiss patrick, see you allow yourself to be consumed. and then he wants you to come to him and sink into his arms and onto his cock and look into his eyes and tell him you love him, so he can moan the words back into your mouth.

but he can't. because you left him.

[spacerockfloater]

You know what, I didn’t need to see Ewan Mitchell in HOTD to be convinced; I knew I fucked with Aemond since the Driftmark episode.

I don’t like him because he’s hot when he’s older. I like him because he’s metal as fuck. The way he talked to the floppy four was art.

“It’s him! / It’s me.”

Boy, it sure as hell is him. He ate that line up. The fucking nerve of speaking about him without addressing him. He was so done with their bullshit.

“Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.”

Gagged her ass. Like, he met her literally today. He never knew her mother, he doesn’t owe her anything. Not to mention that during the funeral he tried to approach them and offer them his condolences with the softest smile ever and they just glared daggers at him for literally no reason until he backed off. Didn’t even let him approach. They don’t even know him and they hate him! And the first thing they tell him once they finally speak to him is accusing him of theft, as if a dragon is an object btw. Like, what are they gonna do? Tell their mum? Shut up.

“Then you should have claimed her.”

Right?! As if they didn’t cross the whole ass Narrow Sea all the way to Driftmark. It’s not like Laena died yesterday. It’s been a good fucking while. They could have at least tried claiming her at this point. What was she waiting for? And please don’t tell me she was waiting for the mourning period to end because she was keeping an eye on Vhagar constantly, hence why she was immediately aware that she flew away. That dragon is on her mind 24/7, she just had no idea how to get her. And like, it’s done. If Vhagar chose Aemond, then she would have never chosen her. They weren’t destined for one another. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be mad as shit, too. At myself, that is, for not being as smart as Aemond.

“Maybe your cousins could find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Ate and left no crumbs. This is a direct jab at Jace and Luc, too. Like, they grew up together as brothers and they thought it was okay to mock him for not having a dragon, but the moment they meet these random girls they are suddenly okay with Rhaena not having one and are ready to jump the boy they were raised with for their shake? How two faced. Typical bastard behaviour though. He was doing that girl a favour by letting her know what kind of people she’s got on her side.

And the fighting scene was delicious. Four vs one and he still mopped the floor with them. Maybe they should think twice before they lay hands on someone again.

Don’t come in my comments crying about me hating on children yada yada. Wake up, this is a fictional show about kids who wield nuclear weapons of mass destruction. Like, it was okay to dislike 11yo Draco Malfoy for being an obnoxious piece of shit, but disliking kids that physically attack another child with the intention of killing him is suddenly too much? Like, I don’t give a fuck. I want to see all four of them biting the curb in 4k. And please don’t start with the racist accusation bullshit. I thought Baela was a raging pick-me cunt since before the show, in Fire and Blood. And I absolutely adore Vaemond Velaryon. It’s not about race. It’s about characters.

P.S. Laena, who claimed Vhagar at 12 and chose to die by burning alive, would be absolutely ashamed about her daughter’s behaviour and lack of courage. But yeah, Daemon, being the crazy ax murderer that he is, would surely vibe with unnecessary violence. Those are his girls!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bi-Han so yk going to get Johnny instead of Bi-Han setting Kenshi free it’s ofc reader, Bi-Han snapping like he does but when he says Johnny lay his hand on reader? Please may I request this?

I can’t write endings for shit apparently 🤣 🦦

Upon meeting the washed up movie star Johnny Cage, all you wanted was for someone to shut him up, even if it meant allowing yourself a brief few seconds of silence because those few seconds of utter silence would be nothing short of paradise; especially considering how much the man loved to run his mouth in the presence of very powerful people.

Men like Johnny were Bi-Han’s biggest pet peeve and you didn’t even feel the need to look over at him to feel his annoyance permeate the air, whereas his patience with the actor grew ever thinner with every passing comment made; Now normally you wouldn’t have questioned or gone against Liu Kang’s wisdom but Johnny Cage was possibly the last person you suspected he’d choose, but then again Lord Liu Kang wasn’t the kind who’d blindly choose people at random.

‘y/n,’ Liu Kang gestured towards a tied up Kenshi. ‘if you please.’

‘Of course Lord Liu Kang.’ You replied as you swiftly brushed past Johnny in the process, aware of the fact that his eyes were lingering on you longer then deemed appropriate; which earned him a murderous glare from Bi-Han as he grunted out a warning at Johnny’s lack of decorum, but that didn’t seem to stop anything that would come afterward.

‘Alright, alright. I’ll play my part in this martial arts LARP. The missus ought to get what she paid for.’ Johnny uttered to himself, as if he was waiting for someone to call for action, because not before long he was done hyping himself up and was already making long strides towards you whilst you were undoing a particularly tight knot. ‘Hey you! Get your damn hands off him.’ You looked over at him to scoff indignantly as you dismissed his theatrics that no one had the time nor patience for.

Upon seeing your unwillingness to participate in the scene he had created within his own head, Johnny furrowed his brows as his hand grabbed onto your bicep, causing you to flinch and halt all movement. ‘I said get your hands off-‘ but before Johnny could finish his line, Bi-Han interjected the scene by forcefully ripped him away from you; only to then send him flying across the room and into the stand that was holding up an hichuli, which shattered into a million pieces.

After seeing to it that Johnny was no longer going to be a problem going forward, Bi-Han was quick to be at your side, his voice already muffled behind his mask was low and hushed to that of a gentle whisper. ‘The idiot didn’t harm you did he?’ He asked as he assessed your bicep for anything out of the ordinary, in hopes to justify his need to knock the washed up actor down another peg or two from thinking he was within any right as to touch you. You smiled as you placed your hand down atop of his, your thumb caressing his cool skin softly, before raising his hand up to your lips to demonstrate your gratitude towards him by pressing a kiss there.

‘I’m fine Bi-Han.’ You reassured as your eyes then wandered over to glance at Johnny’s state when he groaned in pain, wipe the remnants of his hichuli off of his person as he stood back up but you were already looking back at Bi-Han when Johnny stared daggers into his back, angrily muttering under his breath. ‘You just stole me of my opportunity to hand being the one to hand his ass to him.’ You added and by the way his brows rose in curiosity, you knew that Bi-Han was smirking with pride beneath the mask at your comment.

‘Had I let you do away with him as you please,’ Bi-Han began, taking back his hand from you to then brush his fingertips down the expanse of your arm. ‘It wouldn’t have been much of a fair fight on his end.’ He finished and you couldn’t help but beam brightly at his words, feeling warm within your chest knowing how much faith and confidence he had placed in your capabilities to handle things on your own. To have him trust that you can hold your own was all you ever needed to hear from him to know that despite knowing this, Bi-Han wasn’t above his tendencies in keeping his beloved safe.

It was sweet in a way, seeing as he was often a little awkward and stiff when it came to the romantic aspects of your relationship but that didn’t mean that his attempts in showing that he cared were any less valid. He was somewhat of a secret sweetheart once you’ve saw past the walls he’s built and learnt how to recognise his affection through his every action.

‘Was that necessary brother?’ Kuai Liang’s voice interrupted your moment as he stood next to Bi-Han, casting you a concerned look to which you waved off with a hand. ‘To put him in his place.’ Bi-Han responded as he looked at Johnny in avid disgust, making sure to stand almost entirely in front of you, as though shielding you from the actor, whilst staring him down in silent challenge when he chose to look over at the three of you; Like hell Bi-Han would ever let someone like Cage get that close to you again and he would be best to keep that in mind because if he were to tear his luck, Bi-Han wouldn’t be held responsible for fighting him at full force.

[kozachenko]

[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

[pastafossa]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

[shadowxamyweek]

Art piece is by @lambpaca! Happy Leap Year to all you Lovers

Oh I love this. Friend, again, thank you, thank you, thank you

So there's a silly little tradition that was/is still practiced in several different countries. The tradition was, on the 29th of February, women could propose to men. It is still practiced today, more in jest than anything else, but in my own sphere, I have seen the Leap Year Day become a time when 'unconventional' couples of all stripes get together, both cis and queer.

I always liked this unofficial tradition. My partner and I actually made our plans to get married last Leap Year, in 2020, over text during lockdown. Sitting here, now married to my best friend, I still have a copy of this original print on my phone to remind me of the joy in that moment, as this picture was the thing that started that conversation.

So it's got a lot of sentimentality for me

---

The above was drafted before news broke that Tumblr would be partnering with Midjourney and Open Ai. As such, this beautiful art is now protected by the brilliant people of Chicago University and their relentless work to combat scrapping with Glaze and Nightshade.

There is a certain poetics, to me at least, posting this work now. The whole concept of Leap Year engagements was to go against the norm, pushing back against expectations and current reality as we strive for something better. The reason the tradition is no longer mainstream is because many of us have reached a point in our existence where we do not have to wait to be free.

Many, but nowhere near all. The fight is not yet done. As such, we will continue on until it is, in fact, all of us.

This goes for all aspects of personhood, but now, in this specific case, it also means joy in the freedom of art and artistic expression directly in spite of the companies that would seek to try to steal that from us and profit off of its corpse.

In short, fuck the concept that what is happening is normal. Fuck the concept that we are powerless to change it. Love is Love. People are People. Art is Art. Joy cannot be minted in artificial hands, be it those of societal dictation or designed machine. No matter what happens, the human spirit will prevail, and we will break any shit that stands in our way of achieving happiness.

Thank you again, @lambpaca - This means more than words can say.

[epiicaricacy-arts]

without the sour the sweet wouldn’t taste

why are you as a man eating another man’s ear after you failed to make him eat his ex girlfriend. 🤨🏳️‍🌈⁉️

im allowed a bit of toxic yaoi. as a treat

process discussion utc ⬇️

for those familiar with my work you’ll know that i like trying a lot of new styles and experimenting in order to achieve a certain vibe. usually those are heavy painterly styles such as the sunday art inspired by Yuming Li, which is what i’m familiar and comfortable with, both traditionally and digitally

what im NOT familiar with is watercolour. i’ve never had a good time with it 🥲 i just cant seem to wrap my head around the process since its requires me to work backwards (light to dark vs dark to light)

for this piece i just couldn’t imagine myself rendering it in my usual style. i needed to do something new so that i’d stay invested enough in the piece considering that it has two people, meaning double the work. for some reason i thought it’d be fun to do double the work with a style i am completely uncomfortable with but oh well!! i managed to do it 🤷‍♀️ i was specifically looking at the works of Ko Byung Jun, an artist i’ve seen all over my pinterest feed

while i didn’t end up really following the style super closely i still learned quite a lot just by looking at it while i drew. i tried my best to stick to watercolour brushes and an ink pen but as i was nearing the end i needed to make some alterations that i wasn’t bothered to try fixing with the watercolour brushes so i just went over it with my digital ones 🫡 i did my best that’s what matters!!!

i had to repaint rody a few times cause i just couldn’t get it right and the colours never ended up matching vincent. i painted them separately and i think i got possessed while painting vincent cause it happened in like. 40 minutes. and i couldn’t get it to happen again 😔 it didn’t really matter cause i ended up going ham with the curves tool as always but you know 🤷‍♀️

here’s the image without all the effects:

i find lately it’s been more and more common for me to be sketching several iterations of a concept for days, even weeks before i land on something i like. i have an entire separate canvas that i’ve spent 5 hours just doing thumbnails trying to figure out how i wanted to pose these two in a way that would showcase the characteristics that mattered in the story of this piece.

that’s my process for coming up with drawings: i find inspiration somewhere, i figure out the key concepts/characteristics/symbols etc i want highlighted, and i work around those. sometimes i have a composition in mind or just a general vibe i want to portray. for this one i wanted to make sure the towel, rody’s injured finger and vincent’s face could all be clearly seen, while also portraying the fight scene and the vibe i get from the reference song. almost all of my work revolves around a specific lyric from the song which drives the story of the piece. here i interpreted the line “without the sour the sweet wouldn’t taste” as a connection to all the little actions vince takes with rody that can be seen as “sweet.” drying rody’s hair, bandaging rody’s cut. i then asked myself how i could take those actions and make them “sour” or show them in a different light, in which vince is biting the finger he bandaged and pulling rody closer, preventing his escape with the towel he used to dry his hair. what im trying to communicate in this illustration is the idea of “if it weren’t for how i’m treating you now, you wouldn’t understand how kind i was to you then” in an attempt to illustrate the complexities of the way vincent acts towards rody.

i’m truly in love with the story telling of this game. it’s hard to really say anything about how the characters acted during the story because it’s so complex in how it’s done. it’s very hard to summarize their relationship because there’s so much about it i can’t explain without just quoting the game directly. i think it’s such a beautiful portrayal of obsession and just being fucking weird about someone. i wanted to ensure the elements i mentioned in the above paragraph because i didn’t want to be portraying vincent as solely a villain and rody as a victim. i wanted the storytelling of this one illustration to live up to my impression of this beautiful game and i hope i did it justice.

thank you for reading this if you’ve made it this far. i love rambling on all my art posts cause i think it’s so valuable for artists to expand on their work outside of the result alone. i hope what im saying is at most helpful to someone and at the very least a good read. i’m probably gonna take a bit of an art break after this since it took a lot out of me, plus im on the last days of my trip. thank you again for reading!

here’s my dog

[bouquetface]

SAGITTARIUS RISING:

Planets in first house. Placement & aspects towards chart ruler will all change the accuracy of this description. Lmk if your experience with or as a sag risings.

Appearance

Some believe due to Pluto’s influence from 1995 to 2008, sag rising individuals born during this time are likely to appear scorpio-like. In my experience, these individuals still clearly separate from scorpio risings.

A sag rising is a mutable fire sign. They are likely to often change their style. Make impulsive and/or “wild” choices in life and appearance. For example:

🔥 Sag risings tend to gravitate towards tattoos. Due to their fiery nature, they may get impulsive tattoos. Not as likely to be into the style of one BIG piece of artwork tattoo. More smaller, doodle-like tattoos.

🔥 You know how some people plan out their tatts for months & think about a deeper meaning for the art? Sag rising may have a few of those but they’ll also just get what they want just because they fucking want it. A friend pulls out a tattoo gun at a party, yeah they’re probably down. They don’t need months to think about should i or should i not.

🔥 My sag rising friend once said before getting their tatt, “I don’t need to wait until someone dies, I’m just going to get this because I love Fight Club”. The tatt was loosely inspired by the film.

🔥 Sag risings may gravitate towards hair dye. Unlike other signs, sag rising are more likely to go for unnatural hair colours (blue, green, purple, pink, etc). Due to their mutable nature, they may like changing up their hair colour &/or style more often than most.

This is my experience with GEN Z sag risings. Sag risings born before 1995, are almost nothing like this. They do like to change up their look but not in such bold and permanent ways.

For ex: If they dye their hair, it’s a natural colour (brown, black, blonde, red). More likely to get highlights than full on bleach their hair.

When they get a tattoo, they often get it in a common area of the body. Keep it easy to hide. Less likely to undergo a big, bold, permanent &/or transformative physical change. If they do, they generally keep it hidden.

For ex: I know a sag rising born before ‘95, they have a cosmetic surgery done. However, they keep this a secret. They desire both the big, bold look & the natural look.

An old school sag is more likely to express that abundant nature of their ruler Jupiter through hair. Men and women may have very long hair. Yet, they may wake up one day and randomly decide to buzz it.

Personality

Keep in mind this will be influenced by the ENTIRE chart.

Generally, these individuals are prone to feel FOMO. They love experiences. Better to regret having done it than regret not having done anything is more their motto. They can be the most entertaining people.

They can develop fun, humorous and charming personality. It’s likely for a sag rising to have friends in various places across the world. They make friends every where they go.

Sometimes, they can be identified through their communication style. Their jokes and language can be vulgar at times. They may swear a lot without realizing it. This is strongly affected by their mercury placement though.

This extroverted nature could be affected by other placements. In my experience, when these individuals aren’t extroverted & popular, they deeply desire to be welcomed.

The sag rising purpose is to wander and gather as much as information possible. Explore various places, ideals, people and philosophies.

They are likely to philosophize their lives. Questioning what is the meaning of this event? Why did that happen?

Generally, they are open minded & optimistic. However, if a sag rising feels they’ve come to a good conclusion from their experiences, they can come off as arrogant & close minded.

They can preach their philosophy - this can be perceived as talking too much & being argumentative. An extreme version of this is a cult leader. A more common version is someone who is passionate and wishes to share their knowledge.

[mikimakiboo]

Just like them

Nightmare angst !

Inspired by this post (the art in it precisely) by @signanothername, it's not the first time I see this concept and I wanted to do my own interpretation of it because, well, I love writing angst about Nightmare. So yeah it probably be quite different from how they described it in the post since I'm just taking the art (or the quote) as a source of inspiration :')

Finished writing it at 2:30am so it might be not that great

Tw: slight mention of bullying, little swearing

They were alone, their respective teams weren't there, they went out without them. Nightmare went out first, wanting to get some fresh air, and Dream, who felt the presence of his twin in another universe, decided to find him and stop whatever he was doing, fully believing that the only reason for his brother to go out was to cause chaos. He found him. He attacked first with an arrow, and Nightmare attacked back. It was an habit for Nightmare: being chased by Dream, fighting with him, throwing in some insults, he had done that countless times. It wasn't new. What was new however was Dream's anger. Dream was never angry.

A lot of things happen during fights. Physical attacks flow but it is also the place for verbal attacks, some being just as sharp as physical one, as the battle field is the only place for the two guardians, the two brothers, to talk.

Why was he angry ? Nightmare didn't know exactly, surely he was mad that recently Nightmare's team had been doing a good job in producing negativity, surely he was mad that his brother disturbed the peace so much. At least that was what he was yelling at him.

- Why can't we have balance ?! Why must it be that you always want more ?!

Nightmare smiled.

- Because I NEED more ! I don't care about your balance, I want more negativity and I WILL get more !

He was so hungry all the time, his corruption was powerful, he needed to feed it constantly, so obviously he needed more negativity and a balance wouldn't satisfy him, but Dream couldn't understand that. Nightmare already told him the reason, but he didn't listen, in Dream's opinion Nightmare simply needed to eat something else, to eat more real food, that was what he was doing, and it worked just fine. But Dream's magic wasn't as powerful as Nightmare's.

- That's just a selfish reason ! Causing harm to innocent people for you own benefit ! Want me to tell you who you make me think of when you act like that ?!

Nightmare tilted his head with curiosity.

- Please do tell me.

- The villagers !

Nightmare tensed.

- You're just like them if not worse ! Because at least they weren't doing it to everyone like YOU do !

Dream panted, he didn't like saying that, he knew the villagers hurt his brother back then, but being hurt wasn't a reason to hurt others, right ?

They looked at each other. Nightmare didn't answer. He usually always had something to say, but he stayed silent this time. Dream could have sworn the air became colder.

Without adding anything, Nightmare teleported, returning to the castle, in his room. Dream... didn't say what he thought he heard him say. He couldn't. That wouldn't make sense. Why would he compare him to.. to them when he knew what they have done ? Not only to his brother, but to himself as well ? Dream was also hurt by those villagers, he knew how horrible they were, surely he didn't want to say that...

A tentacle flew, smashing the nightstand. Nightmare's fist were shaking. How dared he say that ?! How dared he compare him with those piece of shit ?!

Another tentacle flew like the first one, throwing the bookshelf across the room, the books scattering all over the floor.

Someone knocked on the door.

- Boss ? You okay in there ?

Killer. Nightmare didn't want to see anyone at the moment. He took a deep breath, trying to sound as calm as possible.

- I'm fine. Leave.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the answer.

- If you say so... We're here if you change your mind tho, and, you know, wanna talk or somethin'...

- I said leave !

He yelled, his voice starting to shake as he felt his cheeks getting hotter with the frustration. He stayed still for a moment, just the time to hear Killer's footsteps getting farther until he finally left. He let out a loud grunt, kicking the trashcan. His brother had no right to call him that ! Who did he think he was ?! He was his brother, not his mother !

His mother... what would she even think about him ? He crossed the now messy bedroom, going to the window to look at the moon. What would she think about him ? Would she also think he was like the villagers ? Would she think he was worse ? Would she look at him with pity, knowing how much he suffered, and that his actions were commanded by fear, by a desire to survive ? He was six, he just wanted to live... Would she recognize that... ? Maybe she wouldn't care at all, she never cared about them before, why would she care now...

Nightmare felt a tear rolling on his face as his soul clenched in his chest. His cheeks burned for a moment before he let out a sob. He turned away from the window, sitting on his bed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was pathetic. He was the king of negativity, he was so strong, he wasn't supposed to be affected by anything, let alone words ! But these words struck harder than any arrow... He looked up, blinked, breathed through his mouth, trying not to cry, not to make any noise, as if being silent would make a difference, but the tears didn't stop and another sob went out of his opened mouth. He fell on his back, sniffling as he shut his eye, wiping his tears away, making room for new ones to appear.

He didn't want to be like the villagers, he really didn't. He despised them so much for what they did, for all the pain they put him through. Five hundreds years have passed and he still had nightmares about those dark days, they wouldn't leave him alone, not even after he made sure they were all dead. And now his own brother, the only one who knew about everything, thought he was worse than them ? Was he really that bad ? Everything he did he did it to survive, was it really a selfish reason ? Should he have died instead of holding on his small will to live ? Should he have let them kill him ? Did Dream want them to kill him ? Was it why he was constantly attacking him when he went out ? Did Dream want him dead so much that he was now trying to finish the job ? Did Dream hate him that much... ? He knew he was far from being a good brother, but wasn't Dream happy with him before the incident... ? Or was it an act... ?

He rolled on his side, stretching his arm to grab a pillow and shove his face against it, muffling his sobs in the soft surface, his whole chest burnt so much...

When he finally stopped crying a few minutes later and sat up he thought an eternity had passed, but the moon hadn't move in the sky. He got up, sniffled, wiped his cheek, and teleported again.

He appeared in a void, in front of a bean bag on which he let himself fall.

- Hey...

- Hey.

A glitchy skeleton answered, sitting on a second bean bag next to the first one, crocheting and visibly unbothered by his surprise visitor.

They sat in silence for a while before Error looked up at Nightmare, looking at him above his red glasses.

- You look like you're about to kill yourself.

Nightmare shifted on the bag, looking at the fake ceiling. He talked in a whisper.

- Do you think I'm just like them... ?

- Like who ?

Error asked.

- The villagers... Dream said I was like them...

Error knew about the bullying, Nightmare told him some time ago. He put his crochet down.

- And you believe him ? This asshole insults you and you listen to him ?

Nightmare looked down.

- He.. he wouldn't be wrong to think that...

Error held up a hand.

- No. I don't want to hear any of that. You are nothing like those douche bags.

He began, Nightmare looking up at him, looking so tired.

- I mean look at you, look at your boys, look at what you've done for them, to give them a second chance, a place and a reason to live, you saved them. If you were like the villagers you would have never done that. Dream doesn't know shit about you.

- I... I guess...

- Now if he wants to think you are like the villagers because it's easier for him to blame you than to actually understand you, then good for him ! But you're worth more than that and you know that what he says is not true. So stop letting it get to you like that, 'kay ?

- Okay...

Nightmare weakly smiled, looking at the ceiling again. He heard Error take back his crochet.

- Good.

He stayed here with the destroyer, not wanting to go back to his room yet. He would have to apologize to Killer when he came back, he didn't mean to yell at him when he was just worried. The villagers never apologized, even when he held them in front of him, chocking them with a tentacle, they didn't apologize. Maybe Error wasn't wrong. Dream didn't know him as him and his boys knew him, he only saw the surface, maybe he was just looking for someone to blame, and Nightmare was the only one left... he wasn't like the villagers, he knew it, Error knew it, his boys knew it, wasn't that all that truly mattered ? That the ones he cared about knew he was better than that ? Surely it did. It was all that should matter, Dream's opinion shouldn't matter, he shouldn't listen to him, he didn't know anything.

Maybe he was a monster in Dream's eyes, but he wasn't one for his family, and that was all he cared about.

- end -

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: You’re desperately possessive of your boyfriend, Steve Harrington.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, NSFW, mutual masturbation, mentions of smut, and MORE!

Word count: 2,262

A/N: I’ve missed so badly, and this idea would not leave me alone!! Can’t stop thinking of him or that new set photo! I hope you enjoy, my loves! ❤️

“No. You’re not allowed to touch me, only look at me.”

It was absolutely comical, your boyfriend’s reaction to that statement, and you’d laugh if you weren’t so worked up, wound to your core in the need to claim him, your tongue practically hanging out, saliva pooling in your mouth, latched onto a possessive prowl. He knows not to speak unless spoken to. What a good boy. You let him know this.

“What a good baby boy, Steve.” His full name, that coupling praise, causes his knees to knock together, making him hiss as his sensitive and heavy balls get caught in the crossfire.

You observe him once more, like the finest, most priceless work of art in a high security museum. His large feet, those hair legs and equally hair covered thighs — firm and muscular, a testament to his past routines, his current ones, and all the fighting of otherworldly creatures. Then there’s the rest of him; biceps that tan in the summer, worked hard from countless battles, pieced together by defined, massive hands, fingers so thick and long that he should be fined for indecent exposure, that one lone vein that’s woven around his forearm, one you’ve traced many times with your fingers and tongue alike, his perky nipples, almost hidden in that chocolate jungle growing out of his chest, working together to provide the most perfect torso — not overly built, but enough to know that he keeps himself up, that pudge of stomach that rests atop his belt, pushes out his shirt at the navel, right where that deeply rich happy trail nearly ends, miles upon miles of freckles and moles, one’s you aren’t sure even Steve knows about. Luckily enough, you’re here to discover, to inform. You can’t ever forget his back, how it’s mapped out in marks, scars, sometimes scratches from where he’s fucking you so deep you need to carve into to latch on, or how it moves with whatever he’s doing, muscles visible through gorgeous flesh.

His hair is ever changing, sometimes long at its nape, curls drifting here and there. But the tousled fluff remains the same, even when it’s wet from a shower or the rain, doused in perspiration, or torn into by your eager hands. It helps showcase his neck (your ultimate weakness), structured tendons - skin scarred and stubble scattered, moles and freckles there to be tasted, scoped into. It all works into his beautiful face; those pouty and perfect lips, ones that have made you see several galaxies and held you by their whispered captures. To the bridge of his nose, the shape of his jaw line, his beautiful, crooked smile, and his mossy, caramel colored irises that have stared, glared, worried and cried, shrouded by eyelashes that a man should not be able to possess.

And then there’s that sweet and soft, fat ass that you’ve often spent time between, when you’re not sliding your hand into the back of his pockets, squeezing, clinging to - you name it, you’ve done it to Steve Harrington’s ass. What gets your mouth watering outer limits, is those heavy balls, nestled on either side of that girthy, long cock. Surrounded by a bush to match his chest hair, Steve’s own personal monster has been responsible for a lot of self-pleasing, can’t sit down, I’m limping, first time squirting, desperate - nights. Pink around the cut tip, one long vein to match his forearm, it’s no secret with how it sits in his clothing, even if you weren’t visibly in awe of it right at this very moment.

You’re pretty sure that there’s not one body made that even comes close to how pretty Steve Harrington’s is.

“Honey? Please, I need you to tell me what you want me to do. I’m looking at you, I just need you to tell me.”

His honey-hot voice warms you like a blanket fresh from the dryer, soaked in his apple and cedarwood scent. It breaks you from your Steve Harrington mental textbook, and you stare him down. He’s fully naked on the newly added armchair to his bedroom, his thighs spread wide, feet planted on the floor. His chest is heaving sporadically, already glistening in the sweat of desperation, his new silver chain hanging from his neck, reflecting, one massive hand resting on his sternum, scratching, the other wrapped around his base, his fingertips barely grazing around the girth. You practically purr, shoving your lace panties down your legs — your final article of clothing remaining, Steve’s eyes drifting from your tits that are exposed, nipples hard, to your thighs as they spread apart for him.

You’re not embarrassed, not even as your folds noisily separate, a webbed string stretching from one thigh to the other, getting caught on your cunt, which is swollen, putting you entirely on display. The power that you’re drunk on when Steve’s hazel irises vanish into completely blown pupils — it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He squeezes himself, tongue lolling out to wet his un-kissed lips. “Jesus-fucking-Christ.”

“What?” You mock. “Never seen a pussy this good before, even with your body count, Harrington?”

“Baby, she was just a girl I knew, I told you it wasn’t anything —“

“Shut your pretty little mouth until I ask you a question, Steven. Yeah? You gonna listen or make this worse on yourself? Remove your hand from your dick.”

You hold up one finger to silence him from asking again what he should do next after he obeys, before you’re gliding it along the wet seam of yourself. Fuck, you’re soaking wet from all of this teasing, this tense intensity, and seeing Steve spotlighted like your own personal feast. He nearly growls, his toes curling, cracking, as you push one finger into your cunt without breaking eye contact. He’s squirming on his chair, cock jumping, slapping against his stomach, leaving behind a smear of pre-cum. Your hand slides across your stomach and grabs at your breast, rolling and squeezing, mouth parting, eyes rolling back, and you start fucking your self on your finger.

Lost in it all, eyes glazed over when they open and fixate on him, your jaw is unhinged and you lose control. “My cunt is so fucking wet for you, Steve. I love you watching me. Feels so good, baby. Fuck, fuck — yeah.”

He feels his heartbeat accelerate, ramming itself in echoes against his ribcage, turning his blood into lava, melting his bones to ash. He’s licking at the corner of his mouth, the top, fist clenching across his chest. But he’s still listening, privy to the game here. You want him to beg for it, but can you hold out on that?

Driven by your playful, primal, possession, you slide in another finger and groan, your next few words punched out. “This isn’t enough. Need your cock, Steve.”

You ignore his slip up, his smart mouth, driven by raw, animalistic cravings. “Come over here and get it then, honey.”

A few pumps and you’re speaking to him again, shaking your head. “What I want you to do, right now, is to touch yourself for me. Because the only way you’re going to cum tonight, is by your own hand.”

He starts to protest, but something about this, the refusal, however, an offered and open show — it does things to him he isn’t prepared for.

“Yeah, yeah — okay. Whatever you want. Can I fuck you after? Make you feel good, make it up to you?”

You smirk lazily, letting your opposite hand drop from your breast and part yourself for better friction. He’s already spitting on himself without permission after his question, tugging eagerly, sloppy and drenched, his massive hand slick with it all. You’ve never been more jealous of his palm.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with you needing to take back control, prove a point, get your dick wet, now would it?” You know that’s not the case. Steve has always been the most giving lover you’ve ever been with, and you’ve not had too many. But still…

He fixes you with that bitchy, breathless-confined, trademark glare. “What do you think?”

“Awful cocky for someone who’s jerking himself off, aren’t you?” This’ll shut him up. You add in a third finger and immediately cry out. It hurts, you knew it would, and it gives him pause.

“Honey, don’t do that without — Goddammit, can I please just lick your clit? Help you so you don’t hurt yourself?” He’s paused, thumb over his head, tendons flexing in his wrist from holding back.

His words have you bucking into your own hand, unable to level off your breathing pattern when you speak.

“Pretty Steve, you think I don’t use three fingers when you’re not around? I’ll have to take an instant for you next time, won’t I?” You stumble through.

“Fuck, you better do that, honey. Killing me here.”

“Maybe don’t be so nice to one of your former bimbos next time? I’m sure she can get another person to help her pick up a heavy box —“

“Sweetheart, you know she bought our old movie collection, it was just me being nice. I was the only one working. I barely remember her.”

“Crystal Abrams. Told everyone how you fingered her freshman year during the pep rally. You know, the one where you and your friends thought it was funny that I read my poem for English class. Then stuck copies of it all over the lockers when the school paper published it? Oh, and… you went on a date with her when you first started at the video store.”

You’re over it. Both of you are aware of that, but it still is enough for Steve to attempt to get up and reach out. You shake it off, smiling softly to show him that this is what you need, that it’s okay, but that he’s yours and he needs to be reminded of it. You were on him the second he got back home to his place, waiting for him, a plan already formulated since you watched him help her with her box of old movies. He wasn’t the problem, your kind Steve, the one that stole your heart - no, it was her overly flirtatious demeanor that unlocked your personal beast.

“Shit, honey, m’ sorry, alright? So fucking apologetic…” He begins to stroke himself, thumb rubbing light circles over his head, spreading his arousal around, his fingers catching and using it to glide his way.

You grin at his word usage and start fucking yourself, scattering your cream down to your knuckles. Your other hand leaves and grabs for your own throat, before settling on pinching your nipple and rolling your breast. You watch him get to work matching your pace, nodding, pleading beneath his breath, his spare hand finding his ballsack and cradling, tightening. His abdomen is tensing, legs shaking, throat muscles taunt and closing in as his vision begins to darken, lost in your face and the pleasure you’re giving one another by giving it to yourselves.

There’s barely any room to stretch on his desk chair, opposite of the room from him, and you’re needy, well aware you’ll want to be held the second that you come. And Steve is slowing down, tilting his head. “You wanna come over here and finish?”

The desk chair spins behind you and smacks into his dresser as you abandon it and stride towards his awaiting lap. His cologne, his aftershave, and that damp smell of sex knocks at your cheek and causes you to open your mouth, attempting to taste it. You clamber with care onto his lap, your back against his chest, legs spread, held heavily on either side of his thighs. He keeps you widely open, available to yourself. His balls stick to your ass, your cunt dousing his cock, that he holds away from your pussy, despite every pulsing attempt it makes to snap forward — his body knows where he belongs.

Your head drops back onto his shoulder and he runs his nose along your neck, over your throat, and paths around your jawline, his lips leaving kisses on your cheek, to behind your ear. His knuckles slide over the seam of you, his entire fist messy with combined essences, and he starts to pleasure himself, encouraging you, spare hand hovering over your breast. His voice is scorching hot, like a butter soaked syrup, rich and sugary. “Can I hold this for you?”

“Mhm-hmm.” Is all you reply with, three fingers disappearing back into your cunt, bodies in close proximity giving feather light touches to one another.

He grasps your breast in his huge palm, voice nearly whispering, “You gonna cum for me?” He’s topping from the bottom, but you’re beyond caring, struggling to stroke that spot that he gets to without issue. “I’m so close for you, honey. Got me so hard denying me, talking to me like this.”

“Steve —“

“I’m no one else’s but yours, baby — I promise you…”

And as you come undone in the arms of one another, at your own hands, mouths hovering, before kisses are taken deeply and roughly, you know that you’d rather die than let anything happen to him or let him disappear from you without him knowing how he is everything and then some…

After you’ve calmed in his arms, he kisses you for a while, works on re-lighting both of your fuses, and takes you to bed, making good on his end of the promises.

// Eat me paragraph //

[qwertyprophecy]

Update on The Dark Queen of Mortholme!

Phase one is now essentially completed for art, code and dialogue. Onwards to phase two; because every good boss fight needs that part where the boss gets unhinged and gains a whole new set of attacks.

I too have chosen to be unhinged and made a design for the Queen's final form that gobbles up animation work hours like nothing I've done before with pixel art.

Concept sketches under the cut:

Initially I didn't have any ideas beyond doing a more monstrous design that amps up the Queen's features and takes cues from the shapes and colours of her original spell animations. However after writing the dialogue leading up to the transformation I immediately landed on a specific concept.

The transformation is an outburst. It's a manifestation of the Queen's terror and defiance towards her approaching death. She's unraveling, and in doing so she's channeling more of her innate violent power that she doesn't usually let out. She's essentially been having a long argument with the Hero about who they believe they are. Thus far she's gotten by being all smug and detached, but now she's losing and forced to reveal more of her true self to continue.

So her final form's design should convey 1. an outburst, and 2. the unraveling of a false front. Her base design's spikes, hair and skirt all erupt out into the wilder shape language of her shadowy spell-tendrils. They can handily be used to draw the eye from all directions towards the center of her chest, where I wanted to have this cracking pattern, like something hidden inside her is coming out. It's bright as if blindingly powerful, yet the cracks make her seem more damaged and vulnerable than her base form.

Continuing with the theme of an inner self showing through, the skirt's interior is also more visible than before. The flared jellyfish-esque shape connects with the deep sea vibe of the tentacles and contributes to the drama of a nonhuman silhouette.

A big thing for the silhouette is of course the massive hands. What's the thematic explanation for those? Absolutely nothing, I just think they look cool and dangerous.

Finally, lot of asymmetry was also introduced, both to increase the visual interest of such a large sprite, and to make her look like she's really losing it.

---

A note on animating this monstrosity: I've been trying to come up with a whole lot of cheats to keep a complex sprite like this as animated as possible without spending the rest of my life making this game. Early on I decided she should float, just so her idle animation can also be a moving one.

Secondly, the sprite is cut up to pieces so that I can keep reusing the loop of the writhing tentacles while moving her hands, for example. This is not something I like doing because in believable animation, motion in one part of the body always affects the other parts of the body. Treating a character as one entire whole when animating will make them feel more tangible, but alas, it's a compromise to avoid spending a hundred years in pixel-pushing jail. Like, I would love to see those tendrils flutter around behind her as she swoops across the room for her attacks, but... it'll be a lot more reasonable to move her as little as possible and instead add oomph to her attacks with some effects animations.

Anyways thank you for reading about monstrosity, she might be a pain in the butt to move but she brings me joy

[tonberry-yoda]

The Incident - Kento Nanami

notes - THIS IS A NANAMI LIVES AU !! This is based on a piece of art @thatoneartistinthecorner made that you can find here and was also inspired by @clownforonedirection who asked for a fic lol. It's short and may need a part two, so lmk if that's something you would like :) word count - 1,294 genre - fluff, angst warnings - SPOILERS FOR JJK, injuries

You waited in your apartment with a black eye and a restless leg. You haven't gotten a call back from anyone since you left Shibuya. You were starting to lose your mind. Gojo had been sealed and now there were children trying to fight for their life. And you just… left. You felt horrible. You knew it was your job to try and help survivors, so you were just doing what you were told, but when you heard another sorcerer tell you to run, was it really the best decision?

You tried Nanami’s number about eighteen times and were beginning to get worried sick. He was the only thing you were living for anymore. He meant the world to you and you knew that you meant the world to him.

The Shibuya Incident had to be done now, you thought. It was nearly morning, and you still hadn’t heard anything. And now your worrying got worse. Those poor students that got strung into the whole mess, were they doing okay? Were you safe in your apartment while people were dying without your knowledge?

You didn’t even sit when you got home. You were pacing for hours with a cut on your leg that started to hurt a little less as your brain hurt a little more. There was no way you were going to get proper sleep knowing that Nanami could be…

You didn’t even want to think about it.

You ran your hands over your face and felt like you could scream. Could you have prevented anything if you were still out there? How many people died that night? How many non-sorcerers? Sorcerers? Friends?

Your brain was running a mile a minute and you could scarcely breathe anymore.

And then your heart skipped when you heard a knock on your door. You ran as fast as you could with a bloody leg and when you opened the door, Shoko stood there with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

“I thought you quit smoking.” you said.

Shoko chuckled and threw her cigarette on the concrete beneath her before stomping on it. “I guess you’re right.”

“So…”

“It was rough out there.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“He’s fine.”

You fell to your knees in tears. That’s all you needed to hear. Shoko kneeled down to your level and rubbed your back. “He’s fine, but he’s not okay.” she told you honestly.

“What does that mean?” you asked, wiping your tears.

“Come with me. I could probably do some work on you anyway.”

You sniffled and followed Shoko to her car. It began to rain, which was just perfect for the mood. You knew a car ride was going to be a pain with all the thoughts going through your mind, but you just had to go with it. You knew Nanami was fine, that’s all you needed to know at the moment. But it still didn’t put your mind at ease. What if he wouldn’t be fine for long? What if–

“Don’t worry, y/n.” As if Shoko could read your mind, she placed a hand on your shoulder at a red light. “Everything’s going to be okay. And in case you were wondering, the others are okay too.”

You nodded silently and leaned back in your seat. Suddenly, all the injuries you had gotten began to feel something, and it wasn’t good. You took a deep breath and watched drops of rain race each other down the window.

It wasn’t a long drive, but it felt like an eternity, so when you finally made it, you jumped out of the car and waited for Shoko impatiently. She led you into the hospital and the two of you took the elevator. With every ding to a new floor, you could feel your impatience growing, but you knew you had to take a breath.

“Third door to the right.” Shoko told you when the elevator stopped on your floor, as if she knew you were going to run off.

She was right, of course, and you took off to the room Nanami was in. You opened the door slowly and you felt your heart sink.

“Kento…” you whispered, walking into his room.

He was attached to hundreds of wires and IVs, and his entire left side looked to be burnt to a crisp.

“Oh my god.” Your hand went over your mouth and tears ran down your cheeks. When Shoko made it to the room, she let you fall into her arms.

“He’s going to make it.” she told you. You believed her, of course.

Despite his current state, when you looked at Nanami, you fell in love all over again. To know that he was alive was enough. You walked over to the side of his bed and pulled up a chair. As you looked over the love of your life, Shoko began to work on your injuries, doing the best she could, which was always great.

You grabbed Nanami’s hand and ran your thumb lightly over his knuckles. He began to stir in his sleep and you quickly let go, so as to not disturb him.

Shoko laughed at you. “Don’t worry about that. He’s just doing what’s normal.”

You slowly grabbed his hand again, and you felt him lightly squeeze your hand. You smiled.

“I’m so glad you're alive.” you whispered through tears.

Nanami stirred yet again, but kept holding your hand.

“He’s going to have to wear a leg brace,” Shoko said. “His left leg that got burned can’t feel anything anymore, so it’s going to be hard for him to walk. And he might need an eye patch too, since there’s nothing really there anymore.”

You always found it strange how Shoko sounded so calm about everything, but it also was strange that her tone always helped. It made you feel like everything was going to be okay, and maybe it was.

After she managed to clean up the worser of your injuries, you scooted closer to Nanami and kissed him on the forehead. You saw him smile in his sleep, which made you smile too.

“I’ll be back,” said Shoko. “I have some paperwork to get done and then I’m going to get started on the conversation about the leg brace with some associates. He should be good to go in about a week or two, we’re not sure yet. It might be longer though since those burns are so nasty. My technique seems to be doing him good though.”

She left the room and you cupped Nanami’s cheek – the burnt side.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” you told him.

He stirred yet again, but opened his eyes, smiling at the sight of you from one of his eyes. “y/n.” was the only thing he could say.

“Kento.”

He looked exhausted and you felt horrible. You could have been there for him, but instead, you were in your apartment.

He tried to say something, but couldn’t. Instead, he lifted his right hand and wiped your tears. His arm fell loosely and he looked down, as if ashamed. You leaned forward and kissed him on the corner of his lips, which made him smile again.

He opened his mouth again, and all he could get out was, “I’m sorry.”

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Kento, don't. I’m sorry.”

He opened up his arms just barely, but enough for you to see the gesture. You hugged him and you could feel him melting to your touch.

“Falling… asleep…” he tried.

You pulled back and kissed him on the forehead before running your fingers through his hair.

“We need a vacation,” he said before falling asleep again.

You chuckled and grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“No kidding.”

~~~~~

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2024 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

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