#be kind to me ok?

[vlcimor]

I am not over (and probably never will be) these two parallels. And no one talks about it enough, so I had to draw it (forgot to post it, surprise) for my own sanity. Does it help? Absolutely not, not at all.

Let's talk about it for a bit, okay?

The first drawing is the scene from the end of the 4th episode of the 1st season, right after Ed's and Izzy's (first mate at the time) conversation about plans with Stede, the full crew of the Revenge, and the future. We can see Ed's expression and OH BOY. He is hiding under the mask of Blackbeard to survive. He is exhausted, bored, empty and so done being "The dreadful pyrate Blackbeard". He just wants to be Ed, who fancy fine fabrics and sweet and soft things. It's completely opposite to Izzy's expression, who is behind him and smiling, clearly delighted by Blackbeard's persona and his great plans. On top of it all, the song "The empty boat" by Caetano Veloso playing in the background (I love love love this song), and it fits so well with Ed's emotions.

The second drawing is the scene from the 1st episode of the 2nd season, right after Ed and Frenchie (now first mates) spoke about future plans. Ed let himself be soft and got hurt because of it. Now he's trying to be Blackbeard again, trying to fit in some "norms" of "manly man," trying to survive in a world where liking soft and being soft means dead, and he is failing miserably. He is everything he doesn't want to be. Also, even Stede's name is not mentioned, you know it's all about him. Ed is hurt, tired, and heartbroken. Ed is not the only one who see this. Basically, the whole crew can see how unstable he became after coming back to Blackbeard/ The Kraken persona. Frenchie´s expression shows it all. He stands behind him on his right side, the same spot where Izzy stands in S1. But his expression completely different from Izzy's - sad, afraid, unsure. Once again on top of the scene, the song "Pygmy Love Song" by Francis Bebey (one of my favourite songs from S2) perfectly shows all Ed's emotions.

I am so sorry for this long, boring post. I simply LOVE these two scenes and everything about them, and I needed to share my thoughts with you. I hope it makes sense and my grammar is not too bad.

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[nyanrial]

making little snowmen ⛄⛄

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[ciearcab]

happy late birthday to this guy

[daftmooncretin]

iwtv fandom constantly arguing about who the real bad guy is when shit hits the fan like oh its lestats fault or armands or actually louis is the real villain!! IRRELEVANT. disregard. the reason everything always goes to shit in this show is because unfortunately louis and lestat do match eachothers freak and the resonant harmony of their freakiness sends pure unfiltered wavelengths of suffering to every single characters vampire brainstem and ruins their lives. in this business we call it the invisible chord.

[chimchiri]

Took a break from the requests to draw Harrow with piercings. I came across this amazing setup on the piercing subreddit and fell in love with the small nose chain <3

Initially it was supposed to be a small doodle but then I couldn't stop and now it's.. two colored pieces...

I'm still kinda figuring out how to draw her but slowly getting there.

[purple-obsidian]

unconditional (18+, red hood jason todd x fem reader) wc 1.5k

⭓ this post contains explicit sexual content and is not suitable for minors. reader is afab and described as shorter than jason. established relationship. if you sense a theme in my writing, what can i say. i'm a sucker for sleepy sex. dedicated to @janybabyy who is always down to proofread my work at a moments notice.

You awaken with a start, the familiar creek of your front door closing, pulling you from your uncomfortable half-slumber.

The hall light flickers on, casting a tall, dark shadow over your perch on the oversized recliner in your shared living room.

“You actually used the door.” You mumble sarcastically, recognizing the hulking frame as your boyfriend.

Your greeting is reciprocated by a raspy exhale, followed by a heavy footstep, then another. “You should be in bed.”

He's already rid himself of his helmet. You admire the outline of his shaggy hair as he stalks closer, your heart beating stronger when he pauses several feet in front of you.

“Says who?” You ask, a coy grin itching at the corner of your mouth.

“Me.”

Exhaustion is apparent in his voice. You can practically feel it radiating off his body. Jason reaches a heavy arm to massage away an ache in the back of his neck as you stand up and approach.

He’s leaning into your touch before your palm even reaches his cheek. Another long exhale escapes him, your touch akin to a cool drink of water after a long run in the heat.

”Can’t sleep without you here.”

“Huh. Yeah right,” he presses his lips to the skin of your wrist briefly before continuing, “I know I wake you up. Don’t lie.”

His arm snakes around your waist, the most natural movement in the world to him. Muscle memory. That’s where you belong, in his arms, by his side. Even so, you know he doesn’t believe you when you tell him that some people are worth losing sleep over. That his love is worth the occasional sleepless night, whether it’s staying awake from worry, or comforting him through his ever-present night terrors.

“Jason…” You bring your other hand to cup his face gingerly, feeling a pang of guilt at the dark circles under his eyes.

He works so hard.

Before you realize it’s happening, you’re guiding him down into a slow kiss. His lips, warm and familiar, are tinged with the taste of salt and blood. You allow yourself to indulge for a beat before shying away, wanting to check him for injuries. But as you rescind, needy lips follow, an almost desperate groan rumbling in his throat.

“Don’t.” He mumbles, lips flush against your own. Rough hands grip you closer at the small of your back. “Please, sweetheart. Need you. Missed you.”

You swoon, allowing him to consume your senses. Eyes closed, lips entangled once more, Jason Todd never needs to ask more than once for your affection. Ever since the day you confessed your love for each other, you give it to him, freely and willingly. You are his safe space, his haven. The one person he’s finally let himself be vulnerable with, where there’s no need for his reticence.

And in return? You have, in him, a best friend. Your protector, your lover, the only man who can make living in this hellhole of a city worth it. There are very few problems in your life that he cannot solve. Nevermind that most of those problems are caused by dating him in the first place. Dating a vigilante has its dangers, but Red Hood seems to be at the top of the ‘food chain’ when it comes to Gotham’s criminal underworld.

All that influence, all the money and power that comes with it, and he still chooses to come home to you. In your mediocre flat, with spotty internet, expensive heating, and a dishwasher that never seems to stay not broken, no matter how many times he fixes it.

Several articles of clothing, discarded in a tired haze of affection, lead a telling trail to the bedroom. Jason lifts you effortlessly, laying you down on the bed, keeping himself close so he’s on top of you. Cognizant of his size, he remains propped on his forearms, caging you in but graciously allowing you to breathe.

“Need you too.” You whisper up at him, basking in his attention. You bite your lip, and reach down for the waistband of his boxers, the only remaining article of clothing keeping him modest.

“M’gross.” He mutters, voice tinged in hesitation. “It’s been a long night.”

But he doesn’t stop your fingers from tugging on the elastic. He helps you, kicking them off, and settling his frame over yours again, allowing his lips to rest against your forehead.

“Don’t care.”

You turn your head, allowing your breath to fan over the scarred skin of his neck.

“I couldn’t be more proud of you, Jay. Besides…” You nudge your nose against him, inhaling deeply, savoring his musk, eyes rolling back at the rush of feel-good hormones that flood your brain from the familiarity.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “Yeah? Besides what, hm?” Peering down at you with lustful eyes, his deep tone sends a tingle down your spine. Nerves on fire from the closeness, you reach for him, slow yet confident, not disappointed when your fingers wrap around his length to guide him to the space reserved for him and him alone.

He knows what.

“No prep? You sure, sweetheart?” His voice is tired, strained, but there’s an unmistakable tenderness in how he addresses you. You know he doesn’t have the energy to get you warmed up. He barely has the energy to be on top.

“I can handle you, handsome. Just take it easy on me.”

With no willpower to contest your assurance, Jason's heavy eyelids flutter shut as he slowly lowers himself flush on top of you. Chest to chest, skin to skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushes his aching cockhead inside the familiar warmth of your body. Your velvet walls weep from his intrusion, the sting in your inner muscles one you’ll never quite get used to. It’s a bittersweet pain that you've come to associate with this behemoth of a man you share your home with.

Jason takes his time. His movements are slow, languid, letting you grow accustomed to him an inch at a time. He keeps close, exhaling little praises into your ear every time a pained whimper escapes your throat.

“Good girl, shhh, nice and slow.”

“Been thinking about you all night.”

“That's it, relax for me, beautiful.”

His unhurried thrusts, tender and deliberate, are slow enough that the cool air of the bedroom has enough time to cool your slick along his shaft before he pushes his progress back in. Your strained panting fills his ear, the way you cling to him urges him to continue on despite the stretch you feel. You don’t want him to think he’s too much.

He’s never too much for you.

Never.

“Jason… Please.”

You clench around him when he pushes deeper, your body finally catching up and leaking your desire around his girth that’s splitting you open.

“Fuck.”

The muscles in Jason’s back tense and release. He pauses his hips, biting into the pillow behind your head, adjusting one arm to hold a bit more of his weight.

Desperate for more of him, you shift your hips up and buck him deeper inside you in short thrusts, digging your fingertips into his back. You’re careful not to use your nails, having promised yourself long ago that you would never be the cause of one of his scars.

But deep down you know, this man would wear a scar from you proudly. He’s proved on more than one occasion that he would die for you.

Just because he would take it, doesn’t mean he deserves it. Which is why you use your self control to restrain yourself while you cling to him gently, crying out in pleasure when he finally starts moving again to match your rhythm, heavy breathing shaking his whole body.

The friction from the increase in pace has you flexing your feet and writhing, nodding your head, stuttering out his name.

“I love when you’re like this…” He admits. “Fuck, you feel so, ugmmmph!” Jason loses his breath, his orgasm hitting him unexpectedly, like an ocean current that sweeps you away so quick, you don’t know which way is up. All he can think about, all he can perceive while the pleasure spasms down his legs is you.

“Y-yes!” You stuffer, helping him bottom out deep inside you, his tip kissing the entrance to your womb, decorating it with his essence while his climax peaks.

Taking advantage of his euphoria, you wrap your legs around his strong abdomen, and hold him closely, showering his neck in fervent kisses.

The noises he makes in response to your affection sound guttural, like you’re fulfilling a primal need of his that he’s been deprived of for too long. A need all humans have. Something Jason Todd, specifically, was lacking most of his life, until he met you.

Enthusiastic, genuine, tender affection. Love that’s unconditional.

The type of love that doesn’t care if he’s dirty and scarred. The kind of love that understands not every instance of intimacy will be an epic performance. It’s the love that finds it endearing when his gentle snoring fills your ear less than a minute later, still one with the most intimate parts of you.

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[livsmessydoodles]

shenanigans

[softtdaisy]

Hotch's looks that live in my mind rent free 1/?

[iztea]

[teh-inggris]

pvp civ nation...... this aint much but pls take my contribution for this series bc im going insane i love hate this man so much get him out of my head

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[alukaforyou]

u & ur partner draw each other challenge 🤪

this was supposed to be a little sketch but hmm i realized during this, i need to work on my coloring 😵‍💫 it never ends LOL ANATOMY PERSPECTIVE COLORS i feel like i can maybeeee paint a lil better but non-painty coloring is HARD DAM i put this pic thru like 3 filters on my phone cuz the og kinda sucked LMFAO my fault 😮‍💨 i would draw sukuna soo pretty like a bishie bl protag HEH 😏 and i think sukuna would be pretty good at drawing too i made that up in my head in canon he alr recites poetry so its similar methinks. he would draw u lovely in yamato-e style LMFAOIWJEJSJSJ aaaand check out the creamy crunchy cameo

crunchy is def a mamas boy he loves me but i think creamy might like sukuna more,,, i think she likes men LOL she sort of likes my bf n my dad so 🤔 closeup of bishie bl protag sukuna:

ugh the lips... 👁️👄👁️ i love him bye

[hinamie]

tiger lily

[unipacas]

miguel having beef with a teenager: a case study