#ask continuation

[carouselofmusess]

@townofcadence from here

Artair fought the urge to drag his hand down his face; if anyone in the world was more stubborn than him, it was fucking Reverb. It didn't matter if lighting the garden on fire to get rid of some weeds was a terrible fucking idea. If he said no or shot it down, that was just incentive for the shithead to prove him wrong or prove he could. "Well." He chewed his lip for a moment, taking the pause to mull over the perfect wording. Anything less could result in an on-fire backyard. "I mean, you could do that, I guess. I don't doubt you could take everything out in a hot second if you wanted. But like. I'm sure there are more entertaining things to light on fire." In places that are significantly less flammable.

Reverb rubs across the bottom of his nose with a thumb, followed by a small sniff as he looks out at the expanse of back yard that was soon to be a garden. Of course it would be big, he doubted Lexus would allow anything smaller. Artair wanted a garden, he was going to get a big fucking garden. Maybe even a greenhouse too, in time. The mere thought grated on him. Fucking Lexus.

Hand shifts back down, fingers interlocking and pressing outward until his knuckles crack. “Exactly. Besides, it's not about being entertaining.” Although, it certainly would be. Reverb was rather fond of his flames. “It's about getting this shit done.” He pauses, eyes sliding away from Artair and to the left. His normally strong voice comes as more of a mumble. “Besides… I heard the remains can be good for helping shit grow.”

[ghosthuntcr]

@townofcadence from here

The padded chairs are comfortable, but the frames are build of solid, thick pinewood. On the armrests, a band of metal built into the frame has been closed and locked over both wrists on each of their arms. Artair jerks against his bindings, thrashing, but solid wood was much harder to maneuver in any truly useful way. Of the two, his mouth is the one gagged, if only to keep that clever tongue from spilling spells. He makes a noise, but it's garbled nonsense, and he jerks harder, to no avail. The wood of each leg seems bolted to the ground. "Ah ah." Richard intones with his reveal, standing with his hands clasped behind him. "None of that, darling." His eyes scan Artair as if appraising him, and his smile seems deceptively warm. They flick to his counterpart. Steph is also restrained, though he has been permitted to speak, mouth free of cloth and tape. "I hope you two are comfortable down here. Though I'm afraid no other arrangements can be made. Unless one of you would prefer to lie down? Not you, of course. You might find some way to make me regret that." He glances back to Artair. "But perhaps....you?" Baby blue eyes are back on Steph now, and his smile only seems to widen. "Though perhaps you don't need it either, Mm? You still seem a bit drowsy. Was Teddie perhaps a bit too rough with your invitation, Darling? I apologize."

Steph groans softly as he comes to, eyes fluttering open. His head hurts, and he feels... very disoriented. But he can hear some commotion next to him, and sees Artair? He goes to reach for the other but quickly finds that he's cuffed down to a chair just like his dear friend's. What even happened, that they were here? An escape room? No, he hadn't had anything like that planned, and that sorta thing costs money.

But then there's someone else, and wow his accent sure is cool! And, oh that's sweet, he wants them to be comfy. He's still a bit slow to process, unable to connect the dots just yet... until the other mentions someone called Teddie being rough. "Teddie..?" He asks, searching his mind. That's right! He'd been doing, something, and this really big guy came in a hurry and bonked him on the head! He'd looked like he was in some sort of rush. Wait a minute... he got bonked, and woke up in-- his eyes glance around them briefly-- a weird prison basement looking thing, and they were basically tied up, and Artair was struggling, and gagged.

Each piece of information he strings together gains momentum with the next, his brain firing faster and faster. It feels like a ball of electricity in his chest, growing and growing until-- Mismatched eyes are wide and filled with sparkles, no longer bearing any of the drowsiness from before. His hands instinctively go to raise but are stopped, though he doesn't seem to notice much. He leans towards Richard as much as he can, a grin on his face. "Oh. My. Stars. Did you kidnap us?! I've never been kidnapped before! Except for kinda that one time at this fae carnival but that was different because I walked into it and wasn't tied down or in a basement or anything but this! Wow! I got knocked out and, oh, my head still kinda hurts actually." His torrent of words is paused only briefly for a laugh. "But I can't believe it! I got knocked out and kidnapped and now I'm tied up in what's probably a basement! There really is a first time for everything! Honestly I thought this would've happened a lot sooner, not that anyone ever hopes to get kidnapped I guess but I totally thought something like this might happen at some point! Wow, and to think it didn't even happen on a case, that's so neat!"

[miss-jaye]

cw: slightly suggestive when nanami kento saw his wife about to leave the house in a stunning, tight sundress, he swore his whole world stopped for a moment.

“honey?”

“hm?” you glanced at him, then looked back at the mirror, trying not to stab yourself with your earring. nanami cleared his throat. “where are you going?” he asked as he walked over, standing behind you and sliding his hands around your waist.

“i’m having lunch with my friends, sweetie. i told you that this morning, remember?” you raised a brow, confused. your husband nodded dazedly, his eyes glued to your figure.

“right.” he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “where are you going to have lunch?” he asked, his hands gently roaming over your body, feeling the fabric of the dress he so badly wanted to tear off you.

“that cafe we always go to…” you trailed off, finally securing your earring. “are you okay?” you met his gaze through the mirror. “i do this once a month—same place, same people.”

he nodded, humming in acknowledgment. you stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out what had him so distracted. now that your earring was in place, you became hyper-aware of his hands, their slow, deliberate movements over your hips, squeezing in that familiar way that told you he was restraining himself from acting on his desires.

oh.

a blush crept up your cheeks as you realized nanami hadn’t seen this dress on you yet. you’d just bought it last week and forgot to show him. “kento?”

you called out to him, but he seemed too entranced by the way the dress clung to your curves. he leaned in closer, burying his nose in your neck, his hands trailing down to squeeze your thighs.

you let out a startled moan, hastily covering your mouth. he inhaled deeply, the scent of your perfume overwhelming his senses.

“your friends won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late, right?”

[eastgaysian]

compiling a far from comprehensive list of palestinian fundraisers i'm aware of that are far from their goal (less than 25% raised) and/or stagnating. i will try to update this post at least every couple days - please check the op for updates.

if you can donate at least USD $15 (€14, CAD $20, kr160, £12) and dm me proof, i'll offer a colored sketch commission akin to these drawings (more details here). [EDIT: not accepting new donation comms at the moment until i've worked through my backlog; check back in a week or two!]

even if you're not able to donate that much or at all, please share, and follow the links to the fundraisers - there's much more important information for each one than i'm able to quickly compile into one list.

(created aug 2, updated aug 15)

Hazem Khalil (hazempalestine) - vouched for by bilal-salah0, who has been vetted - €6,015/50k (USD $6,556/$54.6k) raised to evacuate 7 family members

Mohammed Haboub (mohammedhaboubsblog) - shared by 90-ghost - kr85,347/300k (USD $8,108/$28.5k) raised to evacuate 4 family members, along with paying for rent and medical expenses - URGENT RENT + MEDICAL COSTS

Walid Al-Qatrawi (waled-family, waledps) - shared by 90-ghost, instagram - €2,164/€50k (USD $2,362/$54.6k) raised to evacuate a family of 5 with a child on the way - GOFUNDME HAD TO BE CLOSED, DONATIONS STAGNATING SEVERELY

Bilal Abed Rabou (bilalassadabedrabou) - verified by 90-ghost - €7,169/80k (USD $7,814/$87.3k) raised to evacuate a family of 3 + living and education expenses

Israa Alazaiza (isra-elazaiza, sarah-family) - verified #236 - CAD $5,480/48k (USD $3,946/$34,593) raised to evacuate 9 familly members - DONATIONS STAGNATING

Abdelmutei Al-Habil (abdelmutei) - verified by 90-ghost - €8,985/50k (USD $9,794/$54.6k) raised to evacuate 7 family members

Heba Al-Anqar (heba-baker) - shared by 90-ghost - €3,170/60k (USD $3,455/$65,499) raised to evacuate 7 family members + provide for living expenses - DONATIONS SLOWING DOWN

Salahaldin Hor (salahaldinhor) - shared by 90-ghost - €5,032/40k (USD $5,485/$43.6k) raised to evacuate 5 family members + medical and education expenses

Mohammed Atallah (mohammed-atallah) - shared by 90-ghost, organizer's instagram - €11,542/82k (USD $12,581/$89.5k) raised for a bone grafting procedure + rebuilding family home

Fatima Alanqar (fatma93-gaza) - shared by 90-ghost - €4,730/20k (USD $5,156/$21.8k) raised to support a family of 7

Mohammed Matar (matarmoh) - verified by el-shab-hussein - €1,119/���20,000 (USD $1,220/21.8k) raised to evacuate 5 family members, including a 6 month old baby daughter

Mohammed Iwais (mohdiwais) - shared by 90-ghost - kr156,227/500k (USD $14,842/$47.4k) raised to evacuate 10+ family members

Ahmed Abu Shammalah (ahmed8311) - verified by el-shab-hussein - €12,051/100k (USD $13,136/$109k) raised to evacuate 8 family members and provide living expenses - DONATIONS STAGNATING

Wafaa Resh (wafaaresh) - shared by 90-ghost, tiktok - €26,122/100k (USD $28,473/$109k) raised to support 15+ family members

Musab Abed (musababed) - shared by 90-ghost - £3,780/8k (USD $4,838/$8.7k) raised for living and education expenses

Fadi Zakkout (burningnightgiver) - shared by 90-ghost - CAD $10,310/50k (USD $7,423/$36k) raised to evacuate children who have been separated from their parents; their daughter Wafaa needs insulin

Malak Dader (malakabed) - verified by 90-ghost - €5,646/€25k (USD $6,154/$27.2k) raised to support a family of 6 with living and medical expenses + education

Shymaa Taiser (shymaafamily) - #141 - USD $10,878/$50k raised to reunite a father with his children in Gaza and provide for medical expenses

Yousef Hussein (adham-89) - shared by 90-ghost - USD $11,001/50k raised to evacuate 6 family members - DONATIONS STAGNATING

Sujoud Al-Sarsawi (sojid222) - #155 - CAD $10,587/45k (USD $7,623/$32.4k) raised for a single mother and her 3 children - DONATIONS STAGNATING SEVERELY

Siraj Abudayeh (siraj2024) - #219 - CAD $36,515/82k (USD $26,291/$59k) raised to rebuild a family home

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[girlboyburger]

[magicicephoenix]

A rubber room with rats

We don't want a repeat of last time, right friends...?

(context)

[keferon]

Keferon, please! Share with me your Texaid! Grant me food of my favorite ship, and my life is yours!

Kgkhkkj well since you asked :D

Here’s the recent one hehe

[crayonurchin]

First art of the new year is all about re-structuring your internal monologue.

In my early 20s I was working full time in London with many social commitments and a variety of hustles and side projects.

In my later mid 20s I cater to many sensory and social drain needs I have and indulge in special interests while respecting my lower energy reserves and celebrating my different way of processing the world.

Did I get more autistic? Nah. I got less fake.

-

[Art description: Three panels showing figures on a black background. Long descriptions follow.

1. A drawing of OP as a person with hip-length hair and a dress standing sadly with her hands clapsed together in front of her. She is coloured a muted rainbow gradient. Behind her, two pairs of nondescript figures chat while smiling. White text says, ‘I’m getting more and more autistic the older I get.’ 2. OP’s colours are brighter, and her expression looks happier. Crayon-like scribbles have crossed out the text from the previous panel. 3. OP’s colours are vibrant, and she balances on one leg and throws her arms out as she dances. The text above has changed to say, ‘I’m becoming more and more myself the older I get.’ \End descriptions]

[tourettesdog]

I am begging people to be normal about completed fics, and in particular one shots.

I am begging people to stop demanding more from authors, and insisting that one shots need to be longer or have sequels.

I don't think yall understand how many fanfic authors are one more "where's the rest of it?" comment away from throwing out any plans they might have had to continue an idea.

Unless an author like specifically says they might write more for an idea, just-- assume something marked as completed is complete, and respect it as it stands, please.

[chez-cinnamon]

Page 7 yippeeee!!!

Caine suspects something about Kinger's new powers - they seem all too familiar......

( Page 6 - Page 8 )

[carouselofmusess]

@townofcadence from here

A singular eyebrow raised, as Caelan’s head turned towards the voice. He pulled the baguette from the shelving where he’d been testing their softness, feeling for the rim of his shopping car and then placing it inside. “You…Speaking to me?” What little of his face could be observed appeared unfazed, bu his tone carried a semblance of confusion.

They're all big eyes and innocent little smile, waiting for their meal to turn and face them. But then... what? What the fuck? He blinks, once, and then a second time harder. He's sure that he looks as confused as the other sounds, at least for a moment. Was this guy wearing a blindfold? While groping bread? "I am..." He starts, tone all soft and weirdly sugary sweet. Might as well at least try to push past the whatever this was. "But you already know that, don't you? You're such a terrible person. I'm sure your family would agree..." And maybe they were right, if squishing bread in a grocery store blindfolded was how he got his weird kicks.

[thebibliosphere]

I'm scrolling through some ambient noises to help me write, and it got me thinking. Y'know those white noise machines people use for sleeping?

Do you think there's a very specific brand marketed at Gothamites?

Like everyone else has rainy nights on the beach, whale song, the crackle of the campfire, and everyone's all-time favorite "rickety fan about to oscillate off your shitty ikea desk at four in the morning."

And then there's "The Sounds of Gotham," a nighttime ambiance made up of heavy thunderstorms interspaced with the wail of police sirens and the occasional smattering of gunfire.

If you upgrade to premium, you can get the added sound effect of "small vigilante child dropping onto your apartment roof followed by the heavy pitter-patter of their combat boots as they dropkick a criminal off the fire escape."

Mm. Cozy.

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Is there a lore reason vampire fiddleford wears stereotypical vampire clothes or is he just Silly Like That /genq /pos

Yes, lore reason!!! That actually probably won't come up in the comic, so I'll answer it here!!

Fidds was actually wearing it for a vampire "meeting"!! Yess, he has been a vampire for a while, and he doesn't particularly like it, but he has to participate in vampire culture 🙏 And y'know, you have to dress up for those things. Stan just caught him at a bad time, he usually doesn't wear stuff like that!!!

So when he said costume party, it wasn't that much of a lie, who would've figured!!

[ofswordsandpens]

thinking about a world in which RR actually committed to the path he set Percy on in hoo (wherein Percy has become jaded, angry, and resentful at the gods for breaking their sworn promises, is frequently sympathizing with Luke, is getting more and more powerful, and frequently losing himself to wrath) and instead of the subsequent Percy Jackson books being about getting recommendation letters, we could have gotten a trilogy exploring a fallen hero arc for Percy (that would ultimately have a positive resolution to it.)

[hinamie]

theyre soft your honour