#asany

[la-sopa]

They’ve arrived

[kuromi-hoemie]

she's having sex positive ace realizations..

[momosane]

Albania’s right winger Jasir Asani with Super Mario themed boots at the EUROS.

[givemethesleep]

Tell us about Isra!!!

Everything!! Long post!

ISRA LONG POST!!! I ADORE HER!! tagging @waffles5588 <3333 Short Blurb: Isra Asani is the first mate to Captain Zhuri Amin of the Disgrace, and her long time best friend. Isra is incredibly sharp and quick-witted, thinking faster than most. Perhaps Isra once had a strong moral compass, but the world is not so simple as a foolish girl once believed, and there is nothing more important than survival. Nothing more important than survival and protecting the ones who have protected you for so long. Isra will hold onto life with all her being. She will claw for it, steal for it, lie for it, kill for it, cheat for it. Break all the rules for it. The one thing she will never do is beg. (she also has a pretty slow-burn romance with her crewmate and head of intelligence, Rhudorn. They are very fun.) The FULL rundown in below the cut <3

Isra Asani was not born to live. 

What the Asani family needed was a scholar. What they needed was someone who could get a proper education– any education– and make a life to drag them out of the pit they have been stuck in for so long. Stuck in a cycle of gambling and drinking away what little fortune they manage to scrape in every now and then, the Asanis needed someone good. Upstanding. Smart.

Isra Asani was to either be resigned to be chained to her family, dragging them up along with her, or to be sold to die. No matter what, Isra was not to have a life of her own.

Isra proved to be unable to study. She could not seem to do math, nor could she seem to remember any of those dates in history, nor could she manage the science that she was taught. She became just another mouth to feed, and in the family’s desperation, she was sold to the fighting pits when she was around 13 years old. Isra begged for her life, reduced to a sobbing, pathetic mess, but she was sold all the same. That night, laying alone in her space, she swore to herself that she would never beg for anything again. They could destroy her, but she would rather die than lose her dignity again.

Isra was not expected to live. Not particularly strong, not particularly fast– but she was sneaky, and she was resilient. She’d gotten her hands on a dagger in the first fight, and she was surprised to find that she didn’t feel too terrible at winning the fight– survival had taken over, and she was going to survive so that she may try to live. She won her fights– mostly through outfoxing her opponents or sheer luck– but she survived. For her efforts, and in graduated to the upper leagues, Isra was marked. An image of a hyena was burned into her back, ash and charcoal rubbed into the wounds. It's a crude image, but it shows the audience who they're betting on.

During one such fight, her weapon was knocked away, and it seemed like she might truly die. Desperate for survival, she threw sand in the face of her opponent and grabbed onto them, jamming her thumbs through their eyes and ultimately strangling them to death. However, killing someone with her bare hands caused her to feel the guilt that she had been unable to feel before, when she’d used weapons. This time, the killing felt more real, and she could not forget the feeling of blood and once-living flesh on her hands. Since then, she’s been unable to dirty her hands, constantly cleaning/washing them despite there usually being nothing to clean.

After escaping the fighting pits with Zhuri, Isra took her place on the captain’s crew, and it was there that she discovered it wasn’t always luck that she’d survived by– she was good at planning, good at lying, good at all the things she wouldn’t have been able to discover had she continued down a scholarly path. Now she sails with Zhuri, but she refuses to call the crew her family. Once upon a time, her family had betrayed her, and she would not allow herself to be part of another– not in name, at least. She rarely sleeps for long stretches at a time, not wanting to relive the nightmare that had been her survival.

But now, at least, she has a chance to live.

Her relationship with Rhudorn is interesting to say the least. While Isra is a fantastic listener, Rhudorn is a smooth talker - and a professional spy. They're often sent to work together, especially as the plot develops, and most of the time Isra's thinking faster than she talks while Rhudorn talks way faster than he seems to think. They're witty, they're snarky, they've seen a hell of a lot more than they let on, and of all the cast they get the happiest endings regardless of their romantic status. Another interesting thing about Isra is that, on top of the compulsive hand washing, she refuses to touch any person with her hands, including her closest friend Zhuri and love interest Rhudorn, and also refuses to be touched. This makes serious wounds pretty hard to treat!

Anywho this has been the Isra Asani longpost THANKYOU FOR READING I adore her so so so much.

[p0ssyart]

BEEP BOOP EUCLID MEANS NOTHING TO THESE TWO

[lewdssyum]

hi ive been wanting to make a comeback and i FINALLY drew stuff so!!! boys and bellies are back (✨️alright✨️)

[imvges-football]

>>>

[ac1dl4v3]

numinous nevertheless. who . . dom!sanji x male!bartender length . . 1.3k words! warnings . . mature/smut, a drabble, written in third person, male bartender is of color and given some name, oral, degradation, rough handling, power bottom oc, kinda public indecency, and some french....

extra disclaimers!! the ending prolly gon piss you off cus i got tired gn, so prepare yourself for the fall.. (i'm so sorry💀) btw, the inspo for this is a real line oda made sanji say. “you’re welcome to choke on my foot.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ★

After a petty scuffle with a certain bar tender after hours, Sanji gets so irritated that, while holding the man close by his tie, he says, “If you still got a problem with me you’re welcome to choke on my dick, bastard.” You wouldn't expect the bartender to grin, would you? Sanji didn't either, to be honest, but he thinks to himself, 'If that's what this weirdo is into I guess I don't have any reason to stop him.'

The man chuckles with the scent of peppermint and matcha tea tickling Sanji’s chin. Since he's being tugged forward so harshly, it's hard not to notice his aroma. "Is that a request or a challenge, frenchman?" A teasing, suggestive, flirty, and dare one say hilariously shaky tone matches his query too well; Sanji can't help but to throw caution to the wind. If someone has to teach this guy how to respect a man such as himself, he fits just the description. Maybe the barman can consider the lesson as payment for the damages done to his establishment not too long ago (via a fight which sanji had to break up to protect the sacred women in the vicinity).

In any case, Sanji isn't necessarily one for patience. Especially since his crew (just zoro) must be looking everywhere for him at this point, now that the sun has begun to set...

Plus, the exchange of ongoing eye contact was beginning to gross him out. For shits sake the man looked like a hopeless, love-sick loser with the way his smile only widened at the thought of sucking sanji off in his empty bar against a setting sky. baby is truly living the dream.

"You really don't have any shame, do you?" Such a disappointed, disgusted tone would trigger the average person to become defensive, claiming how he can't be the one to criticize with the way he bleeds out at the simple thought of a woman. However, sanji doesn't even care for a response, truthfully, it was rhetorical because the answer is obvious. Which is why he chooses the proactive route and steps over any incoming retorts to his question. "Get on your knees."

Wrapping one long, black silk pant-covered leg carefully around his puppy's waist, Sanji delivers two hot-tempered kicks to the back of his knees. Thus, making the bartender buckle in place and kneel, as demanded. "Let’s see how you manage first. Then, you can tell me if you think this is a 'request or a challenge', glass cleaner."

The lowered man's hands then ran across Sanji’s waist, willingly submitting to the chef's words as he slid his belt out of the pant loops with haste. All the while his eyes never left Sanji’s, which were peering down at him somewhat annoyed, for some reason, as he lit a new blunt sitting at the edge of his lips. By the first inhale of lavender and mint, Sanji’s being pulled out of his briefs and handled with two tight fists as if it's quintessential for the chef to be in this scenario. The problematic bar tender, whom doesn't even have a name to anyone's knowledge, closes a fist around the head of Sanji’s dick, tightening it slowly to see how much pressure would get the reaction he's so desperate to see. "Don’t be stubborn, be a little noisy or I might get bored.. or do i have to drag it out of you?"

A stupid question, but who could stop the poor guy for trying. If it's noise he wants he shouldn't expect moans or pleas or praise from Sanji. With the way his ring adorned fingers are being tangled in the springy brown curls below, anyone with sense can enable some foresight as to why he's beginning to grip the fist full of hair so tight. With a quick pull and shove, Sanji’s dick is jabbing at the warm corners of the brunette's slippery throat.

"Sacré bleu. Just shut up, already." Sanji’s fist doesn't ease up, even while his legs are being gripped and shallow nose exhales fail to release properly against his abdomen. He insists it's not yet time for the barman to flap his talkative lips. "And watch the teeth, damn it. I’m not running a meat eating contest."

Sounds of sloppy lapping and gags bounce from the still silence of the bar as Sanji leans back against a nearby tabletop, humming in satisfaction at the change of pace. In spite of his climbing arousal and the alarming amount of saliva spinning around his dick, he finds enough consideration for Mr.talks-alot's position and slowly pulls him off. Feeling his dick spring in release against the cool air, Sanji watches with disinterest as the man coughs "dramatically" and wipes his face displaying some level of amazement and shame.

"Goddamn.." his voice is stable and offended, yet his expression admits he's still curious about the limits of Sanji’s patience and frustration. I mean, he did care enough to give the man a break. 'He must be warming up to me.'

On the contrary; honestly, he's beginning to grow bored. "Oh, good, you're breathing." Sanji says with sarcastic enthusiasm. While inhaling another cloud of his half depleted blunt, he raises a swirled brow and gestures to his erection, awaiting its greeting without having to use his hands once again.

This time around, the bartender descends with a quick introduction, once again testing his weight on a thin sheet of ice. "By the way," he mumbled, knowingly irking the under-stimulated male above him. "You can call me asani." A name which Sanji isn't very likely to remember, but poor Asani doesn't know much about the cook other than his temperament and his size. He continues to press his folded, wet lips around Sanji’s rosy tip, rolling his head in circular seats between teasing laps and kisses, but he's only reaching half of the cook, and that'll never be enough. As he notices Sanji’s punitive hand reaching for his head for a second time, Asani sinks his cheeks in tighter and suffocates the soft, swollen skin. Light pink petunia hues gloss beneath clear bubbles of slobber with each inch he progresses over, swallowing the size of the judgmental man with hope filling his chest as much as his cheeks.

Before long, Sanji’s leaning his head back, eyebrows furrowed, eyelids closed, and lips sealed tightly. An expression of concentration which could easily be confused with frustration, or perhaps both, because even when Asani tried his best, Sanji knew he could do better. The average speed wasn't what he wanted, he wanted to be overwhelmed. He hoped to be given a challenge, have his knees wobble beneath him in front of a man whom he wouldn't kiss the hand of. He wanted to be forced to let go of asani's hair, have his hand slammed on the table behind him-- Sanji craved dominance.

Better said, perhaps, he craved Zoro.

With detectable irritation, Sanji sighs and puts away the remaining clip of his once enjoyable joint, tucking it away in his loose shirt pocket. "It’s fine." At this, Asani-- like a bemused puppy-- slowed his movements and looked up at Sanji. Hesitantly, he loosened his tongue's fixation on the throbbing vein stretching across the base of Sanji’s dick. "I’m wasting my time here." Sanji’s tone was instantly careless and detached as he began lighting his next blunt-- rosemary this time.

However, Asani wasn't in agreement with Sanji’s blatantly inconsiderate claim. He remained against the tiled floor with his fingers clutching the fabric pooling at Sanji’s ankles. Rather than assist him in fixing his appearance, he moved a palm to the back of Sanji’s hair printed thigh, letting his grip there make a point in explaining that he didn't feel the same. "If anything's being wasted it's your breath. Do you ever say anything interesting or are you just handsome for the attention?"

Sanji chuckles, unamused and peevish as he holds the rolled paper between his outstretched fingers, reaching down to pull up his briefs himself. Since Asani was proving to be a simple, bungling boy yet again. "I do both, glass cleaner," he claimed in a poorly attempted tone of calmness. "And I don't waste anything, but you might be worth tossing with how stupid you act."

★ ac1dl4v3 productions. all rights reserved, do not plagiarize.

[ka1-11]

Doodle of my oc:]Also ignore the fact that they don't have clothes sketched on,I wanted to send my friend a quick doodle of The oc being smug and forgot to take another,better picture of the finished doodle

Please so tell if you are interested in finding out more about them!You guys cab ask me anything and I will(maybe) draw them responding to it:D

-Also the text says "How I feel after I pulled a bad b!tch (she wants my head on a stick((basically the same thing)) )"

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

Minor Blues - Berklee Turtle Island String Quartet Ensemble Cover

[la-sopa]

Trever Flume

(Spoilers undercut)

Trever Flume was approximately 13(I think that was his age he may have been 15)

I think when he was 10, Mom died in the Clone Wars

at 13. Brother Tike dies in an explosion from the empire during a peaceful protest. His father, when the protesters were being held hostage went to go and negotiate their release, Died in the explosion

So now he is a street kid #Homeless I feel like that part of his character is HEAVILY overlooked. Gets semi-adopted by Roan Lands and Ferus Olin.

Fast forward a little. Roan fucking dies. Rip. Then he semi-loses Ferus because Ferus possesses emotions by running(Darra). So now Trever is alone with some random people.

Mega fast-forwarded all those random people he got to know, including Wil Asani from his home planet, Roan's BFF short king. All fucking die in an explosion (Just like his family) :P

then on top of all that, BAAM memory gets whipped off the last year (Lost like counting about 5 people one year)(stay with me). Ferus describes it as like killing Roan all over again. Gonna expand that to kill everyone! all over again.

Jude what the FART

I love Trever.

That is just the Last of the Jedi books

We find out "In 12 BBY, Trever, along with his adopted parents"Clive Flax and Astri Oddo, "was probably killed after one of the Imperial factories was blown up by the Imperials themselves."(Trever Flume) like! bro can't catch a break. his adopted parents dead. Stay with me

I'm really sad about Trever

[flowerflamestars]

WAIT are you working on Tidal again!! 👀

YES

I got the nicest message about it this morning, decided to give a good glance at the draft...and realized the amount of Tidal I've been assuming I actually posted is? Not correct?

there is a CHAPTER IN WAITING?

Tidal 2023, once i've cleaned it up a bit: Amren's wife! Cassian's mom! Baby Rhys gets dumped! Nesta POV full of sexually charged RAGE

[p0ssyart]

maybe don't go to the club your enemy owns and flirt with their husband, idiot fuck.

info about overlord!ossum and their husband below!!

[dlstmxkakwldrlarchive]

220709 ONEW The 1st Japan Concert tour ~ Life goes on~

— Osoku Okita Asani

[lewdssyum]

feed your bottoms, everyone🥰🥰

[tko-draws]

Give more of your Splatoon ocs facial hair!! Cowards!!

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