#been drawing a lot of sad things lately and nothing else really so here is a compilation of my newest character

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[inkydoc]

Bubble witch Katherine and her many, many outfits :3

a compilation post with all the stuff I've drawn for her because I like her design a lot, it's very comfortable :D also that last one i made the lineart with markers on paper, it was a cool little experiment

[rokuhatake]

New Year's Pt.2 18+

Warnings: 18+ (no minors), inexperienced!reader, tiny bit of jealousy, oral (m&f receiving), pet names, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (please be smarter than Kakashi & reader here), fingering, lil bit of choking, praise, lots of making out lol

A/N: Sorry it's late and kinda short, I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Word Count: 2.7 K

Who knew a first kiss could be so desperate, so full of need? You didn’t quite understand your feelings for Kakashi before, and you’ll admit that the alcohol led you here tonight – or morning, rather- but the way he kisses you has sobered you right up. You were drunk and silly for coming here, not even truly knowing the reason why, but now his hands are gently grasping your neck, and you’re opening yourself up for him. He wants more, and you’ll gladly give it. 

You become pliable for him while he gropes you. It feels like the natural thing to do, to allow him your body, your lips. It’s all his now, and he uses you expertly.  

His tongue is addicted to the taste of you, never once leaving your mouth while his curious hands explore your skin. Goosebumps chase after his fingertips anywhere he touches you, and he’s satisfied with how noisy you’ve become. He wonders...how many men have been able to make you feel this way? Jealousy takes the reins in his head, causing his grip to tighten around your throat.  

Much to your displeasure, he stops kissing you; but now you can view him in his full glory. You feel love-drunk, maybe a bit silly as well; you just cannot stop staring. The two of you share something intimate now. You share a secret, one he’s never given to someone else.  

“Did you wear this, hoping I would see it?” he ponders hotly while tugging at your tight dress. You nod with a sexy grin on your face. Impossibly, he thinks he’s fallen harder for you. “Fuck...” he draws out before pulling you back in.  

In a moment, his hands are groping you again, now with more urgency. He wants to peel that annoying dress off of you and worship your skin, adorning it with his love marks. He wants to hear how loud you can really be, and he especially wants to hear you call out his name. That’s the first goal, he thinks, to make you scream for him.  

His attention turns to your neck, particularly the spot that makes you arch into his embrace. Already, a dark mark has bloomed, and you don’t seem to mind; he thinks you might actually love it.  

As he makes his way towards the peak of your breasts, he feels your body stiffen ever so slightly, and he removes himself. “You okay?” His throat feels blocked, but he tries his best to sound soft with you. Your cheeks are warm underneath his fingertips, and he searches your face for emotion. You seem...nervous, and of course that rubs off on him.  

“What’s wrong?” He cups your face with such anxiety, you feel sad for him. “Nothing, nothing, I promise. I just uhhh...I dunno. I didn’t prepare myself for this...” He’s confused. Prepared what? 

“What do you mean?” He speaks softly, still caressing your face in his hands. You feel hot and slightly at a loss for words. That alcohol was not strong enough for this.  

“You know...I would have made myself look nicer if I had known the night would end this way.” He grins at you, modestly amused. You could have shown up in oversized pajamas, his reaction would be the same. The dress is lovely but only because it’s you who’s flaunting it.  

He leans into you, kissing the color from your cheeks. “You always look amazing to me,” he murmurs into your hot skin while leaving wet kisses across your throat. You can’t stay nervous around him, not while he’s complimenting you between kisses.  

“Anytime I see you...” he moves your hand to squeeze his crotch, “...you do this to me.” Your innocent look of surprise makes him stir in your hand. “I really could care less if you’re prepared, I always want you.” His voice is richer than you’ve ever heard, it sends shivers through your muscles.  

As if by instinct, his name drops gracefully from your lips; but before you can say more, he silences your voice with a sloppy kiss. You feel dizzy again.  

He can tell you don’t know what to do; your hand hasn’t made any movements of its own. Your only guide is his hand over yours, rubbing just how he likes it. He’s trying to make sure you’re comfortable, but it’s growing harder for him to maintain his cool composure while your hand grows more curious in its exploration of his body.  

Kakashi resumes his work on your breasts, groaning while he sucks onto the supple skin. Your grip is tight around his cock, and you whisper his name, “Ka-kashi...” It’s a desperate whine, and his body responds immediately.  

He’s too impatient; he’s waited long enough to have you, and now you’re here, in his arms with your hand grasping his cock. Why should he make himself wait any longer?  

Without a word, Kakashi gently nudges you towards the largest couch in his living room, never daring to stop kissing your skin. Once the cool leather touches your thighs, you plop down obediently; but he doesn’t join you.  

Kakashi has an idea...you can see it in that devilishly handsome smile.  

“Will you do something for me?” He requests softly while brushing a few loose strands of hair away from your eyes. You’re curious...you have no desire to deny him, so you nod enthusiastically. That seems to please him, and something within you burns with pride.  

He leans to place a chaste kiss upon your lips, then begins to unbutton his pants. Excitement pools into your panties...he wants to use your mouth. Kami, you think you may overheat.  

Once his boxers are removed, your eyes go wide. Surely, he can’t expect you to fit all of that down your throat. You sneak a glance at his face, only to find him grinning at you while he strokes his cock.  

“What’s the matter?” he cocks his head playfully to the side. “You’ve never sucked on something this big?” He reaches to caress your warm cheek with his free hand, still stroking his cock with the other. You shake your head ‘no’. “I’ve never...I mean-not even...”  

Kakashi’s eye widens. That can’t be possible; if he wasn’t about to fuck your throat, he might be annoyed with the obviously daft men of Konoha.  

“That’s okay, Pretty, let me show you how.” His thumb strokes your cheek while you move to the edge of the cushion. His erection is intimidating, too intimidating; you have to maintain eye contact with Kakashi while he moves himself closer to your mouth.  

“Now, just take the tip into your mouth...and start off slow.” He can hardly get the words out. Preferably, he would just take your throat then and there without mercy, but he won’t have you getting scared on him.  

Instead, he gently guides his cock towards your swollen lips, and you give him one more look before bravely taking him into your mouth, just how he instructed. The hiss he releases scares you, but his fingers tangled in your hair ensures that you can’t remove yourself. You look up to him, wondering if you did something wrong when you see the crimson of his sharingan glaring back at you. You moan around his cock, instinctively taking more of him into your mouth while you hollow your cheeks around the length.  

The idea of going down on a man had always made you nervous. Your sexual experience is already minimal at best, but no one had ever seemed interested in using your mouth. After tonight though? You can’t understand that anxious feeling.  

This is fun for you; it’s like your own secret experiment. You’re exploring what makes Kakashi noisy, and you’ve concluded that he loves the back of your throat. Anytime you push yourself to your limits, to where you’re gagging around his length, his eyes roll while incoherent curses spill from his lips. You want him to stop holding back, you can tell he is.  

Your eyes lock with his while you regress to more gentle sucking, and you whine around him.  

“What is it, Pretty?” He grins down at your messy face. Of course, you have no way to tell him what you want, so you place your hands on his hips, then push them towards you. This time, you gag harder than before, but Kakashi gets the hint.  

“Oh...you want me to use your mouth?” He bites his lower lip, dying to fulfill that fantasy of his. When you nod wildly around his cock, something inside of him snaps.  

Without wasting anytime, Kakashi tightly grips your hair and leads you onto his cock. He hardly gives you time to recover when you gag, he just sends you down the thick length again and again. You can’t help but lock eyes with him while he fucks your throat, and the sight almost makes him cum. He’s not ready for that.  

Suddenly, his cock is no longer in your mouth, and you’re panting while drool spills from your lips.  

“Come with me.” Kakashi’s voice is clipped while he pulls you from the couch and into his arms. He kisses you deeply before leading you to a closed door that you presume is his bedroom.  

Kakashi wastes no time now; as soon as your bottom touches the edge of his bed, he’s kneeling before you, sliding his fingers towards your damp panties.  

This is yet another act you have no experience with. You’re starting to think your prior “experience” is child's-play compared to this.  

“Kakashi...” you whisper. He hums into your hot skin. “I’ve never done this either.” Your words make him stop. Now he really is annoyed. How could someone completely neglect your needs, when all he wants is to devour you? He’s been hungry for you for years, and you gave yourself to men who couldn’t take care of you. He’s livid.  

He doesn’t say a word, only nudges your legs open for him so he can easily slide down your panties. Once he eyes your glistening cunt, his mouth waters. He won’t waste any time on words. He just wants to make you scream; and you do.  

His mouth latches around your sensitive clit and he sucks until you’re arching towards the sky while incoherently chanting his name. Just what he likes to hear... 

He smiles impishly over your folds, then eases a single finger into your dripping hole. You seem overstimulated from the added pressure; you’re shaking furiously, fingers grasping desperately into his silver locks. He tries to look at your face, but your head is thrown back into the mattress. He immediately doesn’t like that.  

“Look at me,” he demands. It takes you several seconds before you can obey him, but when you do, the image almost makes you cum. His sharingan is still glaring at you, and he looks gorgeous with his mouth on your cunt. Now, you can’t look away.  

“K-Kaskashi!” You pant. “I’m so close...” Your voice is barely audible, and he can see your eyes begin to close. For the first time, he slaps your thigh. “Don’t look away from me, Pretty, or I’ll stop.” His threat makes you whine, but of course, you obey.  

He pushes deep into you, deeper than before, and continues to suck on your clit. The stimulation is too much, and within seconds, you’re orgasming around his finger while calling out his name.  

He creeps up your body, slowly peeling the dress with him while he softly shushes you. Once your hips are bare to him, he leaves a trail of wet kisses on your skin, leisurely working his way towards your breasts.  

You lift your arms to allow the dress over your body, and he admires your choice to forgo a bra; it allows him to suck them into his mouth once they’re revealed to him.  

He thinks he’ll play with you for a bit, maybe allow you to gather yourself before he continues his rough fucking.  

You notice suddenly, Kakashi is still wearing clothes; you’re completely naked. A frown forms on your lips. “Why aren’t you naked?” You whine softly. The vibration of his laugh on your skin tickles.  

“How thoughtless of me,” he leans to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Let me fix that for you.” With a grin, he sits up straight and effortlessly removes this navy long sleeve. Though you’ve already had his cock down your throat this morning, you can’t stop the blush that warms your cheeks. He’s too sexy, in all of his naked, muscular glory. You don’t fail to notice the scars marring his otherwise perfect skin; and you silently promise to give them your full attention later.  

The way you blush for him pokes and prods at his impatience, he can’t keep waiting.  

“Can I have you, Pretty?” His hardened length slides along your folds while he nips at the sensitive skin of your neck. You don’t fully understand his question, so you give a safe answer, “You can have all of me, Kakashi.”  

He groans before nudging into you without warning; your words are wearing down his resolve.  

Even if he wanted to, you’re too tight for him to sheath his length in your cunt. He has to work just the tip in, over and over; he thinks you might cry from the teasing. Already, you’re begging him to fill you up.  

“Please Kakashi...” you pant for him. “Please stop teasing.” Your plea is weak, it’s not enough to satisfy his perverted desires.  

He continues to tease, even when he knows you’re aroused enough to take his cock. Until you beg properly, he won’t fuck you properly.  

“Tell me what you want, use your words,” he commands softly. You whine at first, but you’re not able to deny him.  

“I wanna feel you deeper...” He continues his torturous pace, still not satisfied. “Need to feel you deeper Kakashi! I’ve wanted you for so long, please don’t make me wait anymore.” Tears are hiding in the corners of your eyes while you desperately try to move your hips against his grip.  

Luckily for you, he’s finally satisfied. Actually, more than satisfied; he’s fucking elated. You’ve finally confessed to him, told him everything he needs to hear. He doesn’t waste a second before bottoming out inside of you.  

Pain shoots through his back from your tight grip, but he doesn’t let it stop him for a moment. He’s relentlessly pounding into you while he watches your face contort with pleasure. You’ve probably never had it this good, he thinks. He promises to change that forever.  

While grasping your face in his hands, he makes you lock eyes with him. “Tell me how long you’ve been waiting for this...tell me how badly you’ve wanted me.” He knows speaking will be difficult for you, he just wants to play with you some more.  

“I - Ah! Kakashi...I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted you for so long.” He bottoms out inside of you, pushing as deep as he can. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve straddled my pillow, wishing it was you instead.” Impossibly, he quickens his pace, hastened by your confessions. “You’re the only person who’s made me cum without even being there.”  

It’s too much for him; while trying to overstimulate you, he’s overdone himself. He’s closer than he wants to be, and he's about to pull out before you lock your legs around his hips. “Please don’t stop,” you beg hotly. “I’m so close, ah! Please ‘Kashi.” Your babbling drives him crazy, and he’s too lost in desire to worry about not wearing a condom. If he was totally honest with himself, the thought only drives him wilder.  

Your orgasm shocks you, the intensity of it almost mind-numbing as Kakashi finishes inside of you. This sensation is addictive, you think.  

He doesn’t pull out, nor does he stop rocking into you. He’s surprised even himself; no one has ever kept his dick this hard. Like a man obsessed, he buries his face in your breasts, sucking roughly on the skin there.  

“I can’t get enough of you...” he confesses to your skin. “You’ve made me wait too long... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” He grins devilishly at you. “Do you want me to stop?” He rocks deep inside of you, pulling a gasp from your lips.  

“Please...” you beg hotly. “Please, don't stop.” He throws his head back before pounding into you once again, fully intending to head your desire.  

He no longer feels guilt for missing your party; having his way with you, even after the sun comes up, is more than worth it.  

[blackjack-15]

the way nat is treated is sooo sad and predictable. she doesn't always (present day) handle things well, but...with an upbringing like this? and good on her for pouring the liquor down the drain and bringing paper towels

"oh you're gonna make sprite?" "yeah, i'm gonna make sprite" that's carmy in a nutshell. push on a wall, it becomes a bridge.

"holding everything in and then letting it out inappropriately" you've reduced the bear to its most basic components!

he made sprite! something from nearly nothing, that's carmy. and no one even thanks him to his face. he didn't have to do it, he was doing 6 other things at once, and he still made sprite for someone who was having a hard time

also richie's ex wife reminds me strongly of mrs. berzatto. just saying.

"why isn't someone listening to me?" "i'm listening" "WHY IS NO ONE LISTENING TO ME" and this is mrs berzatto at a 4/5? we're gonna see her at a 6+ before long

i hate to armchair-diagnose, but there's pretty obviously a personality disorder present here in the Matriarch of the Berzatto clan. histrionic personality disorder is my immediate thought, but could be something else.

"no one's f//kin with you why would you think that?" gee i wonder.

"we ran into the love of your life" "i don't have a love of my life" 1) they're 100% talking about claire 2) carmy baby. you're so right you don't yet.

wow i hate mikey/richie right now. but! this adds a whole new dimension to carmy re: claire! because claire is tied to mikey, to what mikey 'wanted' for carmy, and that makes this whole thing come full circle, doesn't it?

"what did you do. what did you do." maybe christmas in copenhagen would have been a good idea.

carmy's absolute distaste for this whole 'conversation' (the glasses came off? the body is banging? really guys? you're being disgusting) is beautiful. carmy's got many, many vices and makes a lot of mistakes, but this is Not something he puts up with

"i don't understand why you would do this. why are you like this" oh carmy honey.

"i'm not in love with her, that's what i'm saying, where did you guys get that?"

THERE IT IS.

there's the reason for showing how carmy reacts when someone wants something from him, why the awful phone conversation with claire has her making him go from not wanting to give his number to saying "i want you to have my number". we have to see how carmy goes from saying no -- the truth -- to saying yes -- a lie -- after pressure is put on him. because this is where it starts.

claire represents what others want for carmy. normalcy, a chance -- his "only" chance -- to be with someone deemed societally Valuable. to not be an "other", to fit in, to have something "Good" that everyone thinks is good. carmy/claire is nauseating, but it's supposed to be. people spend so much time on screen telling us how Good claire is, when the show itself doesn't back it up. she's a figure of myth, a representation of the expectations others set on carmy and that he bows to, not a character. full stop.

and wow this is legitimately hard to watch. carmy attempts to set boundary, boundary is ignored. rinse, repeat.

they think carmy's in love with her -- this is a man in his, what, late 20s at this point? -- because he used to draw her in high school? the tenuous is getting more tenuous my Gosh.

"carm. this is a good thing." oh and no it really really isn't.

okay nice moment here for richie. does he think carmy is weird? yeah. does he still kinda brag about his sprite-making abilities? yeah

okay, ex wife is the worst. the boy makes you sprite b/c you don't feel good and there's none in the house and you ask why they'd 'punish' a nice girl like claire by hooking carmy up with her?

richie is adorable with his daughter and despite everything going wrong in his life (both his fault and not) is a really good dad ("do you think that she'll like us?" is such a soft question). i am really, really glad he's divorced. i want him to find happiness -- i don't know what that would look like for him just yet, but.

"we just have to not be like our parents" the other distillation of the bear!

richie trying to get a better job for his kid is really sweet. mikey telling the bill murray story in the background? hilarious

we're further breaking down the Mythos of Mikey -- he's introduced as a perfect, tragic figure, and we've spent a season and a half showing his foibles...which are Many.

[doshiart]

Gallavich Intro

uh huh, thank you @callivich for these encouragement reblogs post, so here we are!

(nick)Name: Doshi

Age: 22

What made you fall in love with Gallavich? I mean… gallavich, they're they. Okay, if serious, I just knew about them but never interested in it and don't remember whether I watched this show before or not. But I seen all of seasons attentively only in November 2023. Then I fell into it entirely and completely.

How long have you been a fan? 3.5 months / since November 2023

Favourite Gallavich moment/scene? oh god, it's hard.. so many really awesome scenes. I want to highlight a few and maybe make a top.

Mickey Watching Over Ian [S04E07] — my s-tier, i love re-watch this scene, i love this song (and i'm so sad that it's been removed from spotify but ok whatever). It's incredibly emotional, that's all. Mickey is so protective, there are so many thoughts on his face. And this silent talk with Svetlana screams very loudly for me. I just like to think that in that moment Mickey is thinking about how much he loves Ian and how glad he is that he's finally here.

"First Time I Felt Anything Since…" [S05E10] — just one more emotional scene before disaster. Really like it and the song is good too.

The Club Kiss [S04E08] — they are so touch starved for each other's. yummy.

"I Gotta Worry. You're My Husband." [S11E04] — it's really sad that this scene was deleted :\

"Rain On Me." [S11E07] — PLEASE they're so domestic and comfort, singing together, what could be better??

idk i just can't stop?? ok i'm quickly pick these important ones for me: "Don't." [S03E12] "Ian. Look At Me." [S04E10] "Sorry I'm Late." [S05E08] The Dock Scene [S07E10] "A lot." [S07E11]

Favourite Shameless character apart from Ian and Mickey? Carl! I actually really love a lot of the characters, but Carl the most. Love his character development, love his sibling bonding with Debbie and how they grew together, as well as his brotherly relationship with his elders. Love his interactions with Mickey and wish there was more. He's so sweet and silly kitty. I also had a crush on Sandy and would have liked to see more of a storyline with Debbie, but eh.

Do you write or draw or make edits? I draw! tag in tumblr / commissions open + other social

Favourite type of Gallavich fics? I'm absolutely in love for AUs! Before gallavich I didn't realize how much I loved the AUs. It's just amazing and this fandom is amazing because there are so many things I want to read, but there are sooooo many. I love multi-chaps and slowburn! Any universe, the main thing is our boys and tension between them!

Most of all I want to mention my love for texting/social media or something like that. I like it when text messages are inserted into the writing.

I prefer fluff, but I have nothing against angst, only if it is hurt/comfort. I love getting different emotions and I love crying too, but I don't like bad endings.

Favourite Gallavich quote? "You're Under My Skin, Man." "What You And I Have Makes Me Free." "Hit My Husband Again, I'll Fucking Kill You." "Don't fucking tell me what's impossible! We're taking care of him here. You, me, us. His fucking family. "Fuck You, Fuck You, And Especially Fuck You!"

Anything else you’d like to share about yourself? I'm a bit of a shy introverted lurker and didn't understand at all how tumblr blogging system worked until that moment, usually I just threw my art and ran away. But now I'm watching how people do their posts (use a queue?? what). And I wasn't completely sure how to blog with drawings without turning it into something personal, but it seems that's the point of blog?

So I'm just getting used to everything and want to stay in the shameless fandom, because it's very nice to be here. You are all very nice people and I have already become attached to y'all.

Apart from anything else, I have a huge obsession. I constantly read something new that comes into my hands, and I have a lot of ideas for new arts. (I might even want to do an edit, but shhh, I'm not sure I'm really mentally ready yet haha).

So yeah, you are truly amazing and I hope to be more active in the fandom! <3

[yuseirra]

Songs are a very powerful medium to convey feelings, aren't they...I feel I might not have been able to draw as much as I did if Fatal didn't exist, that song is so powerful

Hikaru really misses Ai. He could give everything he has if he can just feel her again, but even that isn't enough no matter how he tries. That HUGE, lump of a longing just screams throughout the song, it's so desperate. Did he deserve that happening to him? Did he ask for it? I don't think that would be the case, I just don't see it being that way, it's like... He doesn't know what to do about that loss and he's stuck with that pain but refusing to let go of it because letting it go would be giving up that hope of ever seeing his love again... So I went, wow, he must really love her a lot for it to be this intense...; he cares about her more than anything else in the whole world, that's what the song's saying.

If Ai does love him back(which is what really was the case) then this feeling he has can be pretty significant. It's mutual and it holds way more meaning because they did want each other. This guy... Literally grew insane because he really couldn't bear her gone like that. Don't know how terrible he's become but, I really hope he had no part in Ai's death because god. They SAID he was once noble, a noble guy doesn't kill their gf, if I'm the writer I don't make that choice and if I did, I wouldn't describe them as noble...

How can you love someone that much..; it's pretty incredible the extent he loves her but tbh it's nothing so new because I do go for ships like that every single time. The character's just crafted in a way that makes him believe Ai is worth everything his life and more, and I do think Ai deserves a guy like that, someone to feel that way about her. It's that kind of story

Although it'd be really painful to lose someone like that, I still think it's a wonderful thing to have found someone you treasure more than your own life.. The outcome turned out to be (probably) really messed up and tragic but, it's... Still really fateful to have found someone you find that endearing, isn't it? Lately I keep finding a lot of work that deals with the theme of loss, there is loss because you loved something. The more dear it is, the more harder it would be to let go, and would you really have to let go? Is letting go "right"? Can anyone else really tell you you have to let go? It's something you have to come into terms within yourself, right? It makes me think. At least, your feelings are your own. The method of grieving.. Yeah, that I may not be able to agree with;(thank goodness it's fiction) but I feel the pain is something both very personal and yet so universal. Inevitable when you come to love something... It's sad it's inevitable. I might come to resonate with something like it even more as I go on living my life but I actually wish that day would never come XD.. That'd mean I'd have to be the first one to die out of all my loved ones, but I don't want that either, it's hard! I guess the only thing I can do is to love things while they're here with me. Yeah... That's the kind of thing I feel when I see these sorts of relationships in a medium.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

AO3 WRAPPED NUMBER 29 but i want u to give me ur top 3. or top 5 if u have a lot

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

MAC MY FRIEND MAC GHOSTIEZONE!!! my top fav passages i've written this year.... this is gonna take a while to answer i have so so many to choose from omg.... i'm gonna put this under a cut bc it is going 2 be Long (also i am going 2 tag u because idk if u have seen it yet and i v much want u to see the dstuck passage i'm posting it's got wilbur in it :3 @stuck-in-the-ghost-zone )

3: this one is from my ctubbo oneshot titled Harlequin that i wrote on impulse in early september. mac idk if u have read it but u should i think u would like it :3 the style of it is v experimental in a lot of places but i had SOOOOO MUCH FUN writing it and it's kinda angsty but the ending is sweet and i reread it and was like ;-; this fic was very much me projecting onto ctubbo OK HERE'S A QUICK PASSAGE :3

Tommy is your brother, you think, but not in the way he and Wilbur are brothers. They’re brothers in general, two different souls who experienced such different walks of life and stick together regardless, who follow each other to the ends of the earth no matter how wrong or bad one of them thinks the other is.

You and Tommy are more like... kindred spirits. Brothers in war, allies in politics, victims of abuse who pull each other up by your boot straps and lean on each other so you can keep going side by side.

It’s never just Tommy, or just Tubbo. It’s always Tommy and Tubbo.

Like one name.

TommyandTubbo. TubboandTommy. T+T.

Brothers in experience. Partners in life. Two sides of the same coin. Inseparable.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You’re part of the same coin, but people look at you and see two heads, one on each side, no tails. Nothing at all to differentiate the two.

You could draw horns on one side and a white streak on the other, but at the end of the day they always see two copies.

When people run into you, they ask “Where’s Tommy?” “Do you know where Tommy’s been lately?” “What’s Tommy up to?”

You can’t always answer that.

For as much as you’re inseparable, sometimes you’re both alone for a bit. You always come back around like two magnets drawn to each other until something or someone yank you apart again.

You don’t like being a copy.

You don’t even know if Tommy realizes that’s what you are.

Tommy and Tubbo.

The main character and his sidekick.

He called you the main character once, during the Disc Confrontation, and himself the sidekick, and hearing that

it

actually made you

relieved.

Even if everyone else sees you as a second quieter Tommy, he doesn’t.

That counts for something.

2: MY VASHWOOD FIC Just As Beautiful As The Day I Lost You MY BELOVED <3 ughhhh writing this was so sad i genuinely cried doing it. the moment wolfwood remembers vash is what gets me. ik you've read it already but here's that one little passage here for u just for funzies <3 NOW CRY!!!!!!

The video stops.

Vash snaps his gaze to Rosewood. He’s trembling like a wet cat, hand poised over the spacebar. His breath hitches once, twice. He turns to Vash, slowly, just as tears begin to spill down his cheeks.

“What the hell, Needle Noggin,” he whispers. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

Uncertainty is the only thing Vash can respond with. He steps closer, hand hovering over Rosewood’s shoulder. “I... don’t...”

Rosewood pushes the chair back, wooden legs scraping across the floor, doubles over, and buries his face in his hands. Vash takes that as a signal to do something, so he rests his hand on Rosewood’s back. After the comfort Rosewood gave him last night, it’s the least he can do, really.

Rosewood chokes back a sob. “I shouldn’t know these people,” he says, voice thick with tears. “How... do I know them? How do I know you?”

Vash’s heart leaps into his throat. He kneels in front of the chair so he’s level with Rosewood. “Do... Do you...”

Rosewood looks up, an angry furrow in his brow, even he wipes tears from his eyes. The expression is so incredibly Wolfwood that Vash doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“This past week has been fucking torture, Spikey. You—I saw you leave church last Sunday, and I didn’t even see any of this,” he gestures to Vash in general, the spikey hair, the glasses, the scars, “but you just—you stuck in my head and I couldn’t explain why. I... I still can’t.” He gives a wet laugh. “Humanoid Typhoon my ass. You’re more like a parasite.”

A lump forms in Vash’s throat, alongside something so bright and hopeful he feels dizzy with it. Hands shaking, unsteady like they’ve never been before, he reaches out, fingers brushing over Rosewood’s jaw. He wipes away a stray tear, stubble sharp beneath his thumb.

Rosewood sniffles, shakes his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Needle Noggin. I can’t take it when you smile like that.”

Vash swallows. As quiet as can be, barely any breath behind his voice, he says

“Wolfwood?”

A sob rips itself from the throat of the man in front of him. Vash catches him as he lunges from his chair and into Vash’s arms, heaving cries pressed into his shirt. Vash holds him tight, hands clenched in his jacket. The black poncho remains on Vash’s lap, pressed between them. A stray tear soaks into the fabric. It takes Vash a moment to realize it fell from his own face.

He's never been so uncertain in his life.

But whatever this is, whatever he’s awakened in the priest in his arms, whether it’s real or a delusion, he wants to keep it.

He tucks his face into the crook between a neck and a shoulder, and he cries.

1: i think my fav thing i've written this year would be the tntduo chapter of dstuck that i sent you a while ago BUT since u have already read that and it's wayyyy too long to put in one post i am going to choose a different dstuck thing. most of the passages i wanna put here would involve MAJOR SPOILERS but i have one chatlog between wilbur and one of the cherubs i'm putting in there to kind of sort of replace cdream (i don't like ccdrm but his character is Important so i basically split him in two as a cherub and changed his name). honestly it was kind of a hard decision to change his name bc he's such an iconic villain but i think i did ok with still capturing his Evilness and his shitty asshole vibes ANYWAY this is one of my fav parts of this chapter i love writing chatlogs <3 tw for ummm some brief suicidal ideation bc it's cwilbur that's how it goes

hi wilbur! IO: Ah fuck, what do you want? can’t i just say hi and see how you’re doing? IO: I mean, I can’t stop you, I guess. you’re getting closer and closer to entering this game. isn’t that exciting? IO: Sure. you don’t sound excited. :( IO: What do you mean? This is the picture of excitement. IO: Look at me, I’m jumping up and down with joy at the prospect. liar. IO: Fuck you. hey, now don’t be rude! we’re friends, aren’t we wilbur? IO: We were, yeah. IO: When I was like, twelve. IO: But you started bad mouthing my bro and the rebellion and being all shitty and manipulative, and I literally tried to kms whben I was fourteen because of the shit you’ve said so like IO: No I wouldn’t say we;re friends. but we’re past that! i’ve changed, wilbur. IO: Yeah yeah so you keep fucking saying. if we’re not friends, why do you keep responding? IO: Because you’ll keep fucking bothering me until I do it's just because i want to talk to you. is that really so wrong? IO: Yeah IO: I know the shit that you did to my bro and I don’t fucking much appreciate it that was ages ago! come on, wilbur. you’ll get me out of here, won’t you? IO: If I could kill you I would. man, tough crowd. i think you’ll come around eventually. and even when i do get out of here without your help, your bro is the first one i’ll go for. i’m sure you know this, because it happened in your past. and then i’ll go for the little one. your pen pal. :) he is your bro, after all, and yeah, maybe the older one will slip through my fingers, but your pen pal? he's still young. your bro will get away from me when we’re both older, but your pen pal won’t defeat me while he’s just a kid, and i’m a GOD. :)

The chatlog closes on its own.

He used to be nice, but you think it’s just because he wanted to be your friend. Or, at least, pretend to be your friend. He filled you in on a lot of information about your future and the game, about your upcoming journey as a Bard of Heart, how destructive the class is, how you’re fated to destroy everything you’ve ever held dear and harm the people you love, the nuances of your aspect, the role you’re meant to play in this game.

He called you a supernova in the making, a nuclear bomb waiting to go off, a personified Chernobyl in your own right. It sounded kind of cool at the time, but it placed this heavy weight on your shoulders, this expectation for destruction.

You’re pretty sure he lied about most of the stuff he’s told you, but you can never be sure. You’re set on relying on Phil’s foresight to tell you your role now, although he doesn’t have all the answers. Still, it’s better than running in blind with your only guidance being the ravings of a madman from the distant future. He used to be so kind, it was hard not to believe him.

He wasn’t so kind when you had a sword at your own chest.

[katzirra]

I sure do be feeling a lot of bad things about my relationship with art these days lmfao, and I really don't know how to fix them and overcome them anymore.

It's like... there's such conflict about like... if you complain about the nature of social media people either are like YEAH!! or there's this weird thing I'm seeing now where people are getting mad at people bringing up the importance of reblogs as like attention seeking begging and shit like?? LIKES ARE NICE, I LOVE LIKES but like reblogs are how people actually SEE your stuff?

A like is like ah nice, scrolls past, a reblog is like MAN I WANNA LOOK AT THIS LATER or like it MEANT something to someone. But people act like that's so wrong artists are bummed out over engagement with shit lmao?? We're just selfish little hogs or something.

Or there's like this long standing thing about artists being bothered they don't know what to draw to get that engagement and people are like "DRAW FOR YOURSELF!!" like bitch, I been doing that because tumblr and twitter fucking drove that nail in lobotomy style - and it's making me sad because I feel like the more I like a piece, the SADDER I am when no one else engages with it or it's like 25 people??

Felix use to get alarming notes at times, now it's like feh, nothing? So, I tried drawing for fandoms I was passionate in - which got me a lot of people I care for, but also a lot of needless drama I hated and didn't ask for and that caused a LOT OF ISSUES when I even TRIED to stay out of it LMAO good LORD.

Even doing the Xig blog lately, I've been like okay I'm gonna stick with it because a WEIRD AMOUNT OF PEOPLE engaged with that poll I posted and I was like okay, that's a substantial amount of people who want that content, and even on the blog itself THAT poll was like OH. OKAY?? Because honestly, I feel like I'm on a weird blocklist or something or people don't like my art in the fandom so it's a weird place to be for me :))!! But I know people send me really sweet messages sometimes or sometimes I get amazingly sweet tag comments or people REALLY like an answer to something and it tickles their brain and that makes me happy but like??

I spend hours on that shit and it barely hits 100 unless it's a meme post usually and I dunno, I feel selfish all the time for being bummed about that. I'll spend days on some of them and be like SO PROUD and then just - the low engagement I'm like man, am I wasting my time? AM I STUPID? AM I TOO OLD TO BE HERE NOW, TRYING TO MAKE SOMEONE HAPPY? IS MY ART BAD? IS IT?? DO I JUST SUCK??? AM I NOT SELF AWARE??

It's weird how I see so many times people like my style or whatever, and like I know people still stick around for it, and I see so many artists post such GRAB BAGS of fandoms and stay strong in engagement and I just always feel like I'm doing something wrong or bad lmao?? Not supposed to talk about your feelings anymore, but also supposed to be engaging and personal on this here hellsite lmao??

I've been doodling shit at work and just feel tired all the time because I don't even want to finish anything anymore. I thumbnail mini comics that are like 5-10 pages of things that I think would be nice to do, I thumbnail out the backgrounds, thumbnail out bigger samples of poses and stuff and feel a little excited about how nice I could make it, and I just... know the energy put into it wouldn't be worth it because it'll be something I finish and am excited to post and no one will care.

Okay not no one, but like who is really gonna put fucking hours and hours of work into something that's gonna fall flat on it's face. I do that enough already! I over the last few years have posted so much stuff I was actually proud of and just felt....stupid for being happy and no one engaging with it. And then feeling more stupid and GUILTY because I'm upset about it?? LMAO LIKE WHAT KIND OF EMOTIONAL GARBAGE IS THAT?? And I'm barely online these days too beyond randomly scrolling shit to see what my friends that I barely feel relevant to talk to are doing in their lives nfjgkh I've lost all personalableness... that's not a word but we keep goin' lmao

It's like boy howdy, this kinda like ennui gets met with the whole ooooh two cakes and ohhhh but it'll be someone's favorite and blah blah - PBBT PBBTTT PBTTTT I GET IT!! But like, I'm sorry, I need more validation that I'm not wasting my fucking time. Because that's kind of all I feel these days is that I'm just wasting my time... which is sad. But ya'know some asshole will also be like "so stop" like thanks, thanks kiddo. That's the kind of shit I need I guess. Just stop. Just give up!

It's like, keep struggling, or just stop. Both options kinda fucking blow. But I've also tried to just stop caring about numbers and engagement - but I've noticed all my friends have slowly stopped posting art too. Busy and tired.

I wanna be excited to post art again, man. I miss when I'd post Marvel shit and actually have hilarious engagement and made friends and had fun conversations.

I miss when I'd post a Xig post and I'd see a tag and end up having a conversation in someone's ask box back and forth because I made some little easter egg or HC they were really into and were curious about more.

I dunno :)) bitching for no reason I guess. Shuts up and draws my stupid little pictures.

I feel like the only reason I keep doing art anymore is because I'm grasping some thread of hoping social media flops over again an engagement booms again LMAO - and also like, I have 3 patrons that ya'know. I'M FUCKING TRYING TO KEEP DESPERATELY LMAO.... Patreon pays for my fucking vet bills at this point and I'm obnoxiously thankful for those people but just fuck idk.

I'm doing everything wrong anymore it feels like but whatever!!

Maybe I just don't try hard enough lmao. Just not meant to be an online artist anymore. After 20 years, I'm still fighting this hard for mild engagement? What kind of fuck up, am I lmao holy shit.

[b0nelessdoodles]

Art Summary 2023

shoutout to the one month were i drew fanart and then everything else was just dnd content again lmao (also shoutout to me being late to posting this haaaaa)

2023 wasn't the best year for me personally. between money problems and job searching, health issues, mental health issues, unintentional discomfort at my new job, and the overall issues of the world it just hasn't been great and I felt it heavily in my creativity. I never really had any creative highs this year outside of artfight (and even then i felt like i didn't do well) which only fed into some of the issues I was having.

But looking back I am really happy with most of what I made! Sure I didn't draw much but hey I think I popped off when I did!

So here is to 2024! Already off to a good start in the art department and even if I slow down at least I've had fun so far!

(i was gonna put me gushing about things in tags but its a lot so i'm doing a read more this post is already so damn long lmao i'm sorry)

okay i'm here to gush about two pieces at a time and their contents cause then make me happy to look at so lets get started on that with march and september 'cause hey! look at the relationship development of my little goblin guy!

march was when kk (tic's best friend and now boyfriend) first appeared to the rest of the party outside of just tic talking about him. literally the entire party could see that kk was in love with tic and was just like "oh buddy sorry about that" 'cause tic was a dumbass and romance was just never something he thought about until meeting the party. then we flash forward to september where the two confessed to each other after what really felt like the end of tic's story arc. at least it felt that way to me 'cause he reached his goal of killing groll and becoming the king of goblins but i know he still has shit to do I'M LOOKING AT YOU TRAVELLER AND RIP! but yeah that was the whole reason he left and it was done. he did it! but it almost cost him kk and the two ended up having a really important talk about it. kk chewed tic out and spilled his guts and i still think about it a lot holy shit it was so good omfg but it was in that moment that it clicked for tic. that if he had actually lost kk he had no idea what he would do, that he felt like his whole life would fall apart without him. and just man it was good wholesome content. congrats to the goblins for being the first canon relationship! (even tho they were not the first confession that one goes to rhami!)

now that that block of the text is out of the way we get to more depressing ones, those being january and october with my guy, dr. cecil wilfree.

its just.... man. what do i even say about him. january was probably the last moment before his life went into a full downward spiral, eventually leading into his demise. that piece isn't even anything major but rather something like a reminder going "hey, remember when wilfree had two normal eyes? good times!" and just man (-insert that image of a horse standing on the beach-) compare that to where he's at in october and knowing what happened in those 10 months? january he still had trust and hope, he believed that he was going to get back home and help river out with his plague, maybe even get aster home if she'd let them, maybe find a way to cure himself and help casey. but by the end there was no hope and he found out that he had been used, was nothing more than a tool for someone who he trusted, despite knowing that he really shouldn't have. river was dead and it was his fault (at least in his mind it was), he had failed to protect aster and traumatized both her and willow, and he could do nothing to save an entire population from being wiped off the face of the map. and he caved under the guilt. he gave up. its sad to see him alive and pissy in january and then look at december and see a shell of the same man, no more thoughts in that head as his mind got disconnected from his body and self.

and then for extra sads we've got december which was his birth month, so i drew something from a time before the campaign. back when he was alive and well, no soul curse and unknowing of the horrors yet to come, and receiving a gift from someone whose life he could soon destroy due to his own hubris.

anyway! pay no mind to may! i didn't draw a damn thing that whole month!

[ct-hardcase]

2023 art summary, coming in fashionably late. Director's commentary under the cut:

January: I feel proud of this one, but also feel kind of sad that over the course of a whole year, that January is the artistic highlight. I had a few free days at the beginning of the year where I was alone, and got this wild drive to draw something that I very rarely, if ever, get anymore, especially for a piece that includes a background. Pessimism aside though, I'm really happy with how this came out, barring some aspects of Kanan's facial anatomy I could improve on and Ahsoka's hand (I gave up here, don't look too closely). I've had the scene in my mind for a while, and I'm glad I could finally take it on artistically.

February: Yes, technically this was published in March. As far as I can find, this is possibly the only thing I drew in February, sketches included. I published it on twitter and tumblr in Feburary, fully intending to leave it at the flats, but decided to render a bit on 03/01. On account of my literally having nothing else for the month, I let it slide. I'm also happy to have finished a piece for Seventh/Fifth, and it received pretty decent reception considering it's a bit of a rarepair.

March: I didn't do much, but I did draw Trilla, Eighth, and Reva; and the dynamic has been shamelessly influenced by To Gain The Harbor on Ao3, which has occupied my head rent-free this year.

April: I actually drew two things this month, but I chose Voe, since I always have to have my annual Voe in these, and I'm really happy with how I drew her, here. It's also unpictured due to the formatting constraints, but this one also contained one of my best Kylos. 

May: Work started getting very busy here (and never really stopped), so this is where ~sketch season~ starts. I noticed that I sketched a lot of sitting and kneeling this year, which is a bit of a flex, since I've historically had trouble with that (and am still not perfect, but getting there).

June: Credits to Senshistock for the pose here, but I decided to focus back in on anatomy, which was honestly driven by my beginning to consistently exercise for the first time since college—I got a lot more in tune with the practical aspects of how my own and other bodies could move, and though a lot of my poses are static, I find that it's a pretty big influence on my art this year.

July: It's at this time that my love for Reva also turned a corner—I objectively loved her as a character from the beginning, but around this time or June is when she rocketed herself to my third-favorite (hehe) inquisitor. She really grips me as a character, and she featured pretty prominently in my art this year.

August: Was busy touching grass this month, so didn't do a ton of drawing, but did a quick sketch of a village babushka.

September: I decided to color a drawing of Samantha Trapp and Kilner from We Fix Space Junk, which has carried me through many a hard day, and while the drawing feels just a little off, I think I at least somewhat maintained my ability to color something in.

October: I decided to treat myself and buy some fancy pens, and decided on the Sarasa pens on a whim. While they haven't been the cure-all to my art block, they are so much fun to draw in, and about half my sketches from October-present have been with these. Also, Rey!

November: Reva brainrot feat. The Grand Inquisitor. A friend and I were talking over an AU where the Grand Inquisitor (as a Jedi) takes Reva on as his Padawan, and I had to draw it.

December: I sketched a fair bit this month, but decided to go with Eighth.

[linagram]

if the prisoners got put into subunit type groups of 3-4 (sorta like in Love Live! if you're familiar) who would be put together? What sort of aesthetics would they have and what kind of songs would they sing?

SORRY FOR SUCH A LATE REPLY ANON i got really excited bc i actually was thinking about something like an idol au with my prisoners and i also was a huge love live fan (still like it, just haven't really been keeping up with it) and i wanted to draw something with that concept, but. some things got in the way 😔

anyway, here are the (sub)units! >:D

yep, the high schoolers are in the same unit here! i thought that maybe their aesthetic would be something like. a high school rock band :'D?? i imagine their songs being really fun and energetic most of the time, but having really sad lyrics sometimes, like when you listen closely, you'll go ".. hey, wait a minute, is this song actually about feeling extremely lonely and feeling like nobody cares about you".

riku would be the leader of the group, even though akio is the one who always likes to be in charge. (or at least that's what akio says. it's hard to say who actually was in charge when he was dating arata) come on, he's the popular boy, he's loved by everyone, who else would it be?

riku would also have the same role he had in his canon band: he would be the vocalist and the guitarist.

honestly, i think keyboard would fit both akio and aimi, but if i had to choose, i think akio would be the keyboardist. aimi can be the drummer! i know that this sounds surprising, but this girl has a lot of energy and she also wouldn't want to stand out much, she'd rather let akio and riku take the spotlight, so she'd be fine with that role.

yes, if you remember one detail of arata's design, you can see that akio is matching with him. i can see akio and arata breaking up in this au and akio getting a crush on riku (just like in canon, mostly bc he simply reminds him of arata), but still wearing stuff like matching accessories to remember his ex.

and yes, he'd also get at least one of his ears pierced to match with riku too. DUDE JUST CHOOSE ONE OF THEM. OR DATE BOTH OF THEM. IDK MAKE YOUR CHOICE ALREADY 😭😭

I FORGOT RIKU'S MAKEUP JUST PRETEND IT'S THERE.

aimi is wearing a black shirt instead of white just like akio and riku for no particular reason, i just thought she looks better in it. there are other ways to interpret it though.

arata knows about akio being in this band and he has actually listened to some of their songs. he doesn't really care about him anymore though. akio has already served his purpose.

THESE GUYS WERE THE FIRST UNIT I'VE CAME UP WITH LIKE I KNEW I HAVE TO PUT THEM IN ONE GROUP. do not separate them (please separate them they are so codependent even though their relationship brings them nothing but pain P L E A S E)

what can i say. they're the fanservice gang. they exist to make people simp for them and that's it. their songs are either very cool and fun and they sound like something from giga and/or reol or they sound like something from. uh. i don't know. a kpop dominant bf playlist (it makes sense in my head. it does).

i don't think they'd actually have a leader, but if they had to choose, it would most likely be eiko simply because she's the most "normal" one of them and she knows how to act in public and how to make people fall in love with her and find her attractive without being weird or creepy. she's also the one who comes up with excuses and explanations whenever someone catches kei or shun doing something. something that can potentially ruin their reputation.

all of them are vocalists and someone else writes music for them (imagine if it was ruka). shun is mostly there for the quiet parts or rapping parts, meanwhile kei and eiko are the ones who do most of the singing. kei is very well-known for his vocal range because he can easily go from a very high-pitched voice to a very deep one in a few seconds.

both kei and eiko are good at dancing, however shun still has to learn a lot and it can be hard for him to memorize the choreography.

I CAN STILL IMAGINE HIM BEING THE MOST POPULAR ONE. like there'd be so many yt compilations of him doing silly things and people would go "HE'S SUCH A FAILGIRL I LOVE HIM".

kei tries so hard to keep up his "alpha male" image that their agency has came up with but his fans keep insisting that he's actually this group's babygirl. he doesn't know what to do with this information.

eiko does not like most of her male fans and would rather not interact with them at all, but hey, she still enjoys the attention.

LISTEN. this unit kinda looks like i just put all the prisoners that i couldn't find a unit for together and you're right, but also.. i've been thinking about these characters' parallels a lot.

anyway, naomi, yurika, asahi and reina would actually be in an idol group! yay! hm? what is an 11-12 y/o boy doing with a 30 y/o woman and girls who are in their early twenties? uh. he's there for an emotional support in case they want to squish someone's cheeks, i guess.

i think naomi would be their leader as the oldest one and the one who, again, is the most "normal" one (at least on the outside), but i can imagine all of them being very popular for different reasons? like i can imagine a lot of people simping for naomi or just genuinely loving her singing, people thinking asahi is cute and very talented for his age and yurika and reina fans finding them relatable and funny.

i think naomi would have the best vocals in the group, meanwhile reina would be more of a rapper or just have the parts that require someone to sing in a more quick manner. yurika and asahi would have very soft and cute vocals which are perfect for idol songs.

yes, some of the details on their outfits are the same color as their second image color.

asahi would most likely be a nepo baby who got into this group only because of his adoptive parents.

"does naomi still want to kill asahi" yes.

similar to eiko, yurika does NOT like her male simps, but whenever she sees a cute girl holding a lightstick that is her image color. that's it, she's blushing, she's giggling, she's kicking her feet. it doesn't matter to her if she's performing rn.

reina would be the one with the biggest number of funny youtube compilations, i just know it.

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

Hey no hate, you realize that you’re literally in love with your own version of Kazuichi right? Literally no one in this entire world thinks of Kazuichi the same way as you.

Heeheehee, yes! Ngl my ego is having a feast with that last sentence.

You've unlocked an essay! Have fun reading lol.

Honestly though, I do think of my Kazuichi as an extension of the og Kazuichi, but like, in a different timeline. Not an entirely different personality, even if it seems like that because I draw fanart of her at different points in time without much of an explanation.

I've been thinking about that rule of fandoms post I reblogged earlier. I feel like I only barely scratched the surface of a thought with my tags, but I only had a few minutes left in my break at work. Also, wasn't sure how personal I wanted to get on someone else's post.

At what point does fan-written character development end and "an entirely new character, completely different from the original" begin? Even characters in canon, written differently in some way, can be considered "not canon" by fans. Take "modern-day" Simpsons for example; there was one segment from a "recent" episode (honestly, I don't remember how long ago I heard this statement, so "recent" could mean anywhere from the past 10 years) where Bart genuinely asks "what's the 90s?" This made a lot of people angry, because Bart Simpson was a staple of the 1990s that embodied the vibes of that era, so hearing him say this felt like a far cry from his old self. This Bart is technically "canon," but a lot of people would argue that this is Not Bart Simpson.

Another example is Steven Universe Future. I did not like that epilogue season. I liked the 12-to-14 year old Steven's optimism, and it felt like they strayed so far from his character to have this kindhearted, loving character become so selfish and bitter and, there's no way to explain it without spoilers but he commits an act so heinous that I honestly felt like they took his blind rage too far just for shock value and sacrificed the entire character for it. But, some things just don't reach everybody. What I saw as "That's Not Steven", some people were able to enjoy and get a cathartic story of someone healing from trauma (I wish I felt the same about that show). For me, it was painful to watch, and I only finished the season to end my anxiety about it, seeing him get worse and nothing get better at the end of each episode was bringing me to tears ("Then how can you play Danganronpa if you're so sensitive?" you might ask? I have different expectations and standards for an edgy murder game for teenagers than I would for a kids' cartoon. I'm less shocked when violent acts happen in Danganronpa or Family Guy than I was at Steven Universe Future). Anyway I would consider this version of Steven Universe's character "not canon," and I cringe when people bring up his character in Steven Universe Future as canon, despite that, yeah, it's canon. It's canon but I hate that it's canon.

Anyway, I have a point here, and it is that what is considered strict canon to some may be considered more loosely by others. And fandoms are where we should be free to explore ideas that the writers cant do, whether it's because it doesn't fit the themes, or it isn't "marketable," or it's because the canon writers wouldn't come up with it, or just simply because you wanted to see it and no one can stop you. I understand some people have ideas about characters you'd want to keep the same, I do too! I hate when people reduce Kazuichi to just "fuckboy who flirts with Sonia and parties all the time and is really dumb" (tell me you fell for Kazuichi's act without telling me you fell for Kazuichi's act) or "sad pathetic meow meow" (like, aside from the "blorbo" language, this feels like one part of Kazuichi that gets misunderstood as the entirety of Kazuichi. Kazuichi can be pretty badass.)

Fandoms have been getting more picky and hostile lately (I'm realizing I have too, so I'm working on that), and I think we could all benefit from letting go of some of our stricter ideas about "sticking to canon" and being more easy-going about people writing a character differently than you would, especially because it's fanon. Because we're doing this on our own volition and not for a paycheck. Because kids writing for the first time shouldn't feel like quitting if they can't make the characters "on-model" or "in-character."

Also, Danganronpa at times is kind of poorly written and sexist, so why should I have to stress over adhering to the standards set by those writers and then carried on by teens in the fandom (who might be looking at it uncritically, not that I blame them they're still learning) when I can set some standards of my own?

The "canon" version of Kazuichi, according to the spinoff games I never played, is that she's forever doomed by the narrative to spend at least three years after graduation still pining over the same damn character who has repeatedly shown no interest. Also, doomed to keep the same appearance that she canonically doesn't like (and everyone else also looks exactly the same as their child selves). Like, this is the same character who changed her appearance in middle school because she was sick of being taken advantage of by people who didn't give a rats ass about her. There were other reasons too, but I feel like nobody talks about this one in particular: she wanted to change, so she did. So why does she need to keep the same appearance after that, when she's older and the stakes are lower and she's gone through so much and gotten some development in the second game's end? The meta reasons are so that Spike Chunsoft doesn't have to pay someone to update the sprite model, because Kazuichi is recognizable (marketable) in her canon look, and because it's easier to leave everything the same.

Personally, I wouldn't mind if Kazuichi wanted to keep the same appearance, that's what attracted me to her in the first place. But she herself isn't happy with it (evidence: the last FTE). I just filled in some blanks in the story in my own way, because there's a lot of ways to interpret her character and they don't have to fit in with whatever canon says is the way. I don't 100% trust Hajime's word, Chunsoft's word, or what other fans have to say. I'll listen to it, though, but yeah I am going with my own interpretation.

Don't worry, when I say "Kazuichi is a girl because I said so" I do mean my Kazuichi (and whoever else wants to make Kazuichi a girl, which, go for it!). I don't mean "I'll fight you on it if you think differently." My ideas for Kaz are just one possibility for her, there's tons of others and they're valid whether I personally care for them or not. I don't mind boy Kazuichi at all! I just...I love girls...so she is a girl. In my heart. On another level, I was tired of boy characters getting the cooler designs that don't have a boob focus, so when I saw her I was like "that one has to be a girl! I'm claiming her right now. And probably also a lesbian, just because!" And then I ended up adoring her, because she's so adhd/autistic and I relate a lot to her struggles in socializing and making friends. I hate when people say she's "not emotionally mature enough for friendships/relationships" (that's such a mean statement! I've heard it before about myself. It hurts to hear. ;-; It sounds very victim-blamey.) Yeah, her social problems from autism/adhd definitely play a large role in her problems in making and keeping friends, but another large reason she struggles is because other people don't get her, and that's not her fault. She tries, she tries way harder than I did when I was a teenager to make everyone like her, and it doesn't work, because other people can be shallow assholes who see a "weird kid" and just don't care. I'm not saying that's everybody who doesn't want to be friends with her, Kazuichi can also be mean and push people away and also can be bad at reading the room, but her struggle to make friends is not all everyone else's fault just like it's not all her fault. Some people just have too much neurodivergent swag or uncanny valley for others to get us. So we need to find each other.

Anyway, wow I guess I really needed to talk. It frustrates me that so much of my story is only in my head right now. I want to actually show the progression of Kazuichi's character (so that her character progression looks less like "I just pulled this out of my ass" and more like "I swear guys, I'm actually going somewhere with this! It'll make sense later!") and my s/i's character progression too (in the fanfic we grow alongside each other and because of each other), but it takes time to write a story when I'm also learning the work-life balance. This was my first year having a "real job" and of living alone, I basically get home after the 8 hours of busywork and then get to drawing Kazuichi and watching cartoons and playing video games. Trying to be really patient with myself.

[izzydeadjet]

Man I dunno if this is stupid but lemme be real for a minute here.

I saw this art and I was like, "Wow I love this art it's just such a feast for the eyes. I wish I could draw like this..." Then I went on a whole journey of self-reflection over this.

First of all, I felt sad that drawing like this would take a lot of effort and motivation that I just don't seem to have for art lately. I was sad about that, but then I remembered that someone IS drawing like this. I don't need to draw like this because someone else is doing it and I get to enjoy their art! I hope that shamerli keeps making art so that I can enjoy looking at it.

And now I wonder if anyone sees my art and has the same thoughts I just did. I always see my art as mediocre and boring and I just lose confidence to finish things. Does anyone think about my art after they've seen it? Does anyone wish they could draw like me? It's crazy for me to even consider that...

I dunno, it's kinda been a real boost for me. Maybe I should get back into making things again. The last thing I made was a whole-ass 3D model and I got so many compliments about it and just... never made anything else after that??? Why not??? I really enjoyed it and I'm past doing things purely for likes and views. They mean nothing compared to connecting with people. I think that's why I've been lazy about making a portfolio or posting stuff on social media.

Anyways, sorry to hijack an art reblog with some deep, philosophical shit. What better place to dump your wee heart-thoughts than on your Tumblr?

[dystopian-reverie]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲, 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥 || 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Title: Pretty, Pretty Doll

Rating: 18+ for smut, minors dni!

Warnings: p in v, oral (fem receiving), edging, brat taming, characters arguing a lot, fingers kink, choking, solo play, dom!Marc Spector, reader and Marc referring to the reader as a "fuck doll", not beta read, angst/comfort, fluff ingrained into some place I guess?

Summary: Marc comes back home from a mission and you help him let off some steam. A few days later, an argument breaks out between the two of you that leads to him showing you the weight of your own words.

You didn't know how late in the night it was when you were interrupted from stress working, a thing you've been doing a lot lately. You heard the apartment door unlock as you swiftly closed your laptop, all the unsaved work forgotten.

"Marc?" You hurried to hug the man who returned it back all too eagerly.

He shut the door behind him and wasted no time in collecting you in a warm embrace. Marc has been gone for nearly a week, yet another mission from the wretched old bird. Every single time he came back, it looked like he had lost a piece of him wherever he had gone to.

"God, I missed you so much, baby" He whispered, not showing any sign of letting go of the hug. His voice was flat, didn't have that usual tone of relief whenever you ran into his arms.

"Same here," You sighed, as you smiled into his shirt that smelled so much like- him, his "just got back from a mission" version. "Everything alright?" You asked, concerned at the lack of the usual pattern of him kissing you senseless as soon as he has you in his grasp.

Silence. You could only feel him shake his head. "What are you doing up so late?" He asked, as you both finally stepped away from each other. He carried his bag and threw it on the couch mindlessly, all eyes on you.

"Just working, you know. It's the only way I can take my mind off of, well, you. Whenever you're gone," You paused "I can't seem to stop worrying about you" You admitted, smiling to stop yourself from tearing up.

To say that you've been worried about Marc, Steven, and Jake whenever they were off doing the dirty job for Khonshu was an understatement. You knew that they had their suits, but you've been in this crazy world long enough to know that suits of armor and blind bravery can't save you from everything.

A sad smile spread across his face, as he opened his bag to bring out an entire bottle of whiskey and placed it on the table beside him.

"I suppose the mission, this time, was more draining than usual," He said as you made your way to him. "Couldn't get the asshole the first time I went after him, it was one mistake, but before I could get to him again, he-" He paused, shaking his head. You could clearly see the passive frustration engulfing his entire mind. "He had killed someone else". He looked back at you.

You listened to him, your brows knit together the whole time. He was a man who had seen the most twisted and rotten things in his life, felt them, and fought against them. It still surprised you to think that it was you he decided to let in.

The moment your hands met his cheek, he closed his eyes and leaned against you, pulling you in closer till you had to re-adjust and sit on his lap.

"What can I do to make it better?" You asked, your voice no more than a mere whisper.

Talking about it wasn't really Marc's thing, at least not right after he just reached home. He knew that you knew it by now.

Those eyes. Those damn eyes that enticed you every single time he looked at you that way. By now, you knew what was going to happen. He was going to devour you, greedy and raw. That was Marc's thing. Fuck you into oblivion, draw orgasms after orgasms until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, nothing more than a whimpering doll that can't string a coherent sentence together. He loved to hear you beg for him, to cry out his name as he rammed into you, grunting and panting, sweaty bodies moving against each other. The sound and smell of sex would overwhelm your senses as he would whisper absolute filth into your ears, and tell you how much a pretty, pretty doll you were. He would take care of all your needs and his.

His gaze traveled down to your lips and further down to your breast. You were wearing a white t-shirt of his, with no bra underneath, and though it was loose enough, with the way you were sitting, he could make the outline of your nipple harden at all the sinful thoughts clouding your brain.

"What? No 'Marc go take a shower first' or 'Don't you wanna talk about it'?" He smirked ever so lightly as you rolled your eyes and tried to pull him into a kiss, but to your surprise he pushed you away, his hands cupping your face.

Tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers, grazing painfully slow and soft on your skin, traveled down to your cheek, and to your chin. He drew your face in closer and locked both of your lips together in a heated yet slow and deep kiss.

You moaned into the kiss as he slid his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands tried to take off his shirt hastily, knowing that you'd have to remove yet another layer of a t-shirt to strip his torso naked. But Marc was having none of it.

He grasped both of your hands and held them behind you, cutting off your access to finally touch him after a long, long week. You protested in silence as he pressed your body towards him with the same hand he was holding you captive, making you straddle his hips, his other arm slowly, yet strongly, wrapping around your throat.

Both of you pulled away, slightly panting, lips parted. His eyes were no more tired or sad, as he contemplated all the ways he could keep you up that night. His trained hands kept your arms locked behind you with ease, and kept a firm handle on your throat. His hold wasn't too hard, but it wasn't just a mere touch either.

Heat pooled on your abdomen as you tried to grind against his hardening cock. You were sure your panties were soaking at this point.

"Oh, we've got time for that, doll" He whispered as he yanked you to give you another kiss before letting go of you. "Kneel" He ordered.

You raised your eyebrows as you slowly got off his lap, making sure to give a final push to his crotch, which didn't go unnoticed. You lowered yourself in front of him, and he grabbed the whiskey bottle and took a swing out of it.

Just as your hands swiftly went to undo his pants, he caught you in the middle and leaned down so he was only inches away from your face. His hot breath was not making it easy for you to control yourself.

"Listen to me carefully, baby. Daddy didn't have a very good week, you know that, don't you?" He asked, and you nodded, looking at him through your lashes. "I didn't get to look at pretty sights while I was working," He continued, "But I'm looking at you now and-" His eyes once again traveled all over your body, his lust left unmasked. "I see that you are all for me to consume, aren't you?" He asked and you nodded yet again, rubbing your thighs impatiently as his words churned your insides.

Today was going to be one of those nights. Marc was going to drag this out, take his time, make you beg as if your entire life depended on it- and you know it would, with the way he can deny you things.

"So, I thought, why get this all done so quickly when I can do this all. night. long?" He kissed right below your jaw, drawing a hitched breath from you as his hand cupped your right breast.

"This is what you are gonna do," He said leaning back, letting you simmer in anticipation. He was giving you order and gods forbid if you were not gonna give your fullest. "You're gonna touch yourself, all over yourself, as daddy watches," He took another swing out of his bottle. "My pretty girl's gonna put up a show so good that I fuck her so hard and good tonight, yeah?" His smile was so sinister that you could've nearly broken down where you were kneeling.

Biting your lips as you crawled back a little farther away from him, so he could have a better view, you felt as if his incredibly intent and growingly wild eyes set on you were more than enough to strip you naked. His own brand of pornstar.

You took off the piece of fabric that provided little protection from the cold in a swift move, an excuse to mess up your hair further. Removing yoir soaking panty didn't take long either. While your one hand started brushing your lips and started sucking on them ever so lightly, you leaned back further, balancing on your other hand, spreading your folded knees wider on the floor. You didn't take much time before sucking on them completely, getting them all nice and wet, looking up to see Marc watching you through hooded eyes, his whiskey bottle held in a tight grasp as if his hold on it is the only thing stopping him for grabbing you back to him again.

Saliva dripping to the floor, you let those same fingers travel down to your chin, the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, and finally to where you needed them the most. You rubbed your aching clit, throwing your head back as the long-needed pleasure coursed through you. Your other hand massaged your breast and circled your fingers around your nipple. You let out a whine, thinking about how good Marc's hot and wet tongue would feel lapping around it, sucking and kissing it just right.

"Faster" His voice was low and commanding, edging so close to a growl, and there was something so dangerously dark about it.

Your fingers obliged all too quickly as it fastened the pace. Heat spread through your thighs and your aching legs. Your other hand was tugging your hair till you felt a low pain on your scalp, but it only added to the pleasure. Everything felt so good and filthy all at once.

All it took to push you over the edge was one look Marc- and you came undone. You let out a loud moan, not caring about anything anymore. You just wanted him to carry you straight to the bedroom and fuck you like the whore you were for him.

And that was exactly what he did that night, praising his doll about how good she was for him while you basked in the glory of making him feel good. His hands were all over you as he fucked you, the bed creaking along with the sinful sounds of the night. It was paradise on Earth yet again.

--

"Every. Damn. Time!" You yelled at your boyfriend who was in no better mood than you.

"You're the one going off on dangerous missions every once in a while, Marc, and you're trying to sell the whole 'I'm doing this protect us' every time I ask you something about it,"

"And what part of it do you not get?" Marc hissed back. "I've got a past that, one way or another, gonna try to drag me back to my bullshit history, and this time I have to worry about you getting dragged into the mess too. As long as I have Khonshu's power, I can protect us from all that,"

"As long as you Khonshu's power, you're going to get dragged into more new mess and have more memories to bury. You think I can't notice the toll it's taking on you?"

Marc scoffed a humorless laugh that showed his disbelief. "So? What do you want me to do? Leave this all behind and run away somewhere with you so we can live out our perfect little life? I fucking owe him my life, goddammit. The last thing we need is a pissed-off ancient diety on our asses because I couldn't hold up my end of a stupid deal!" He slammed the table, not taking his eyes off of you.

They were wide with rage, trying to make you see some sense.

"But that's not what you want, is it? A perfect, happy life, hmm?" He asked, his voice finally calm, moving towards you. "You want in."

"What the hell do you mean, Marc?" You huffed, trying to act like you were done with this, but deep down, you knew he was edging closer to finally figuring it out.

"I knew it," He let out that same humorless, dry laugh again, leaning down and purposefully looking into your eyes. "This is about Tawaret and her offer, isn't it?"

"What? No!"

"Yeah, then what is it?" Marc was inches away from your face now, challenging you to come up with a reason. "And do not bullshit me with the 'I'm worried about you,"

It was true that Tawaret had asked you to be her avatar on the only mission you've accompanied Marc, something that shouldn't have happened in the first place.

You've seen how being an avatar affected Marc, but that was entirely on Khonshu. You had agreed on being Tawaret's temporary avatar because at that time Marc and Steven were in real danger.

Feeling all the power and using it all to defeat real danger and threat to the innocent, gave an electric jolt that nothing ever gave you in your life. You knew you were incredible at it.

Looking at Khonshu and the Boys' toxic relationship, what you and Tawaret had was one of the sweetest and most efficient partnerships. It was true that you wanted to be her avatar permanently because even if you wouldn't seek danger voluntarily, you can defend people whenever they're in immediate danger.

But what Marc said now pierced right through you. "You- you think that's what this is all for? Just that? You don't believe that I do worry about you?" You cursed yourself for how shaky that line came out.

Appearing weak was the last thing you wanted right now. You held your gaze with him, and you could feel him debating over choosing his next words.

"Why would you even want to get into this life, y/n?" He sighed, appearing exhausted already.

"Because I can do some good, Marc, something that I've always wanted to do for since I can remember" You raised your voice, standing your ground.

"Do some good?" He raised his eyebrows. "Do some good. Do you even comprehend the danger that comes along with it,"

"Tawaret would never ask me to do anything Khonshu asks you to do. He asks you to kill, and Tawaret asks me to defend. There's a difference Marc, and- and besides why the fuck would I need your permission to become an avatar, it would be completely my choice,"

"So you do want to be an avatar," he deadpanned.

"I- I just wanna make sure that whatever you do, you don't have to bear it all alone," You had hoped that you saying this might cease the fight, make him see that all this was completely unnecessary.

But Marc seemed to have other plans. "I'm not bearing it all alone. Whenever I come back, you're here for me, aren't you? You think I'll be able to concentrate out there with you on the field, constantly worried-"

"For fuck's sake I'm not a goddamn baby, Marc! What do you think my job is? To be the faithful wife, worrying about her husband who has gone to war and spends every day moping around and scared to death about what is happening to him? Well don't worry, I already am like that. What you don't seem to get is that I hate it," You snapped back.

"Of course," You scoffed when he couldn't seem to find the words as he stood there, his jaws clenched and his eyes set on you. What else could he say? "You only need me to be your own fuck doll whenever you come back home," You spat, making sure every word was laced with venom.

Everything was still. You were nearly panting and shaking with all that adrenaline. You wanted to go off at him, to yell at him till he finally understands what you were trying to say. You wanted him to say something, anything, really.

"You think that's what you are to me?" he finally asked. He wasn't yelling or mocking you. There was just pure rage-filled curiosity in his voice, the one that spent chills down your spine.

He laughed. Dragging his palms down his face, he looked at you like he has just seen you for the first time ever. "My fuck doll?" He came in closer till there was barely any space between the two of you.

You glared down at him, refusing to elaborate on that because, to be sure, you didn't know where that came from either. Was that how you truly felt whenever he came back from a mission?

He brought his hands to caress your cheeks, looking into your eyes, searching deep for something. You thought he was going to say words of affirmation that you were more than that, that he loved you and would always cherish you- what everyone else would've done.

"Well, if that's what you think you are to me," As he cupped your face with both of his palms, you sense nothing but danger all around the room- the kind of danger that made your insides buzz, especially down there. "Shouldn't you be proven right?" His words increasingly became louder as he yanked you by your arm and dragged you to the bedroom.

It all happened way too quickly. You didn't have any time to voice out your protest as he pushed you onto the bed and started taking off his clothes with a wild vigor. You became hyper-aware of everything he was doing. His muscles flexed with every movement of him taking his shirt off in one swift go, throwing his pants away. His dark and messy curls fell in front of his eyes.

And his eyes, oh God, his eyes. You've never seen them this way, filled with so much carnal desire and impatience, so much anger, and desperation all exploding into a messy mixture that ultimately made you fear and anticipate what was about to happen.

It wasn't before long you realized that you messed up. Bad.

"Let me show you how a fuck doll's gotta be fucked," He whispered more to himself as he got himself on top of you. After nearly ripping your top off of you and unclasping your bra in one go, he grabbed your neck tight and brought you close to his face.

"Since you decided that I only treat you as my whore, you're gonna start behaving as one from now. You do only the things that I allow you to do. Do you understand?" His grip on your throat didn't ease as you made your best effort to nod.

"It's a shame, you know, something so pretty as you, looking at me all wide-eyed and scared, is not gonna get any love today," He mused, studying your face, his grip easing a little. You could feel him fisting himself right above your thighs.

Pushing your body entirely down on the mattress, his one hand secured your throat as the other worked on your pants, removing them in a swift swoop.

"Now you listen to me very carefully," He said as his finger traced the lining of your entrance through your panty. "You are not going to make a single sound, and you are not going get your hands anywhere close to me. They're going to stay there by your side the whole time I fuck you."

As his hands left your neck, he wasted no time before getting between your legs, positioning his mouth in front of your still clothed cunt.

You knew what was different. There were no affectionate kisses, no caressing your body up and down, and definitely no loving words presenting a melody to your ears. This was him fucking his fuck doll.

Kissing your pussy once, he removed the panty and spread your legs to reveal a dripping you, your body responding to him without your permission.

"Always a slut for me, huh, no matter how I treat you," He smirked to himself as you felt heat creep up your cheeks. You'd do about anything to cover your embarrassed face.

He dived in, his skillful tongue licking off all your juice in a swift flick. That's where you messed up the second time- when you let out a loud moan, despite him warning you not to. You quickly covered your mouth, in an attempt to try to undo a mistake, but it was too late anyway.

Marc looked up at you, clearly not very happy. "Do that one more time and see where that gets you," He slapped your thigh as you shut your eyes. That was going to leave an angry mark.

He went back to his work, licking and sucking you in all the right way while you squirmed under him, not being able to move your arms in any way, your lips pursed. You couldn't help but let out the tiniest of whimpers from time to time, but he didn't seem to mind, too busy devouring you as if you were his final meal.

There it was, all that heat that churned inside was concentrating and intensifying in a delightful way, threatening to spill right out of you. You were so close to reaching what you knew was a mind-shattering orgasm.

His moans and all the sinful sounds of him eating you out, his strong grip holding your thighs in place was just enough to push you off the cliff, and there it was, right at your fingertips- right when he pulled away.

You nearly screamed out loud. No, no, no. You wanted to yell out his name and ask him to finish what he started. You could feel the burning hot orgasm flickering away as you tried to catch your breath.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he didn't seem to give a flying fuck about it, as he crawled on top of you with a satisfied look on his face.

He chuckled at your silent whimpers. "What was that?" He mocked you, getting in closer. "Oh right, forgot dolls couldn't speak," He said as he covered your mouth with his palm.

You could feel him positioning his cock in front of your hole. "Can't really trust you with the rules," He mumbled as he secured both of your hands over your head with his killer grip.

He didn't touch you anywhere, didn't say anymore as he fucked you. His grunts and the sound of sex and your silent whimpers were the only sounds in the room, so unlike you and Marc.

As you felt a low orgasm building up inside you, you felt more scared than ever. This was going to be ruined too. Marc was never gonna let you have it. He knows all the tell-tale signs of your body when you were so close to coming.

He fastened the pace, his grunts becoming louder and raspier. Marc was usually the one to continuously string together filthy words that made your insides twist and pussy flutter, but now, not a single word.

You could feel both of you reaching your climax, that sweet, sweet ending, but of course, as expected, he pulled away, knowing damn well that was going to get a cry from you.

He slapped your tit roughly when you made the slightest cry and that made you bite your lips hard enough to make yourself shut up.

"Look what you're making me do," he shook his head, looking down at you. He pushed back a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead, admiring what he's made of you- a panting and unsatisfied mess.

"Do you think this is how I wanna fuck you? Hmm?" He asked his palms stroking your cheeks and neck.

He looked so beautiful from where you were to the point it didn't feel fair. His sculpted face and body, his raspy breaths, his eyes that spoke many unspeakable emotions all at once, it was all too much, to the point where you could feel tears stinging your eye.

"Marc," You called to him weakly, and nothing followed that, but he knew- he understood.

He got down to kiss you. It was so passionate. Your lips moved together, conveying about a dozen different emotions. Anger, disappointment, forgiveness, love, lust, worry, love, love, love.

He cradled your head as his lips moved to your cheeks, your jawline, down to your neck, crafting art of his own, a beautiful canvas for him to paint with his teeth and tongue. Surely something he would admire in a few more minutes.

You didn't know if all the rules were still effective. That was when he took your aching arms and brought them up to his hair, letting your fingers comb through it. You let out a loud moan of relief as he kept on kissing you everywhere his mouth could find your skin.

"This," He breathed "is how I want to make love to you," His hands soothed your thighs, stroking up and down. "Because I love you," He kissed your forehead. "I need to feel you with me, everywhere on me," He left a trail of kisses. "Because you're my girl, do you get it?" He broke the kisses to look down at you, his eyes wide and pleading, begging you to understand how much you meant to him.

You nodded slowly, a slow smile dawning on your face. Marc couldn't help but smile along with you.

"And now," His sudden movement caught you off guard. He grabbed your legs to swing them over his shoulders. "We'll get down to some actual fucking, shall we?"

"Oh GOD Yes, Marc,"

"That's my girl," He smirked. Off he went, thrusting deeper and deeper inside you till all you could feel was his hands roaming all over you and how good it felt when he stretched you open.

"Does my cock make you feel good, baby?" Marc grunted and you nodded frantically. Whatever self-control you had over your body had left you, leaving you entirely in Marc's mercy.

"Open your mouth," He commanded. As soon as you obliged, Marc slipped two of his fingers into it. "Suck on them"

And you did, all nice and slow as you coated them with slick, your eyes nearly rolling back to your skull.

A sliver of saliva still connecting his fingers and your lips for a little while, he brought those fingers down to your clit and rubbed them in circles.

At this point, you weren't even sure you were saying anything coherent, just chanting his name over and over again like that's the only thing you knew how to do.

It was just the two of you. The evening slowly gave way to night to rule the sky as you and Marc made love, sweeter and hotter than anything you've felt. Both of you were pressing on to each other in a hundred different ways, burning skins asking for more and more.

The warm and familiar signs of orgasm filled your abdomen again, tightening your insides. Your toes curled as your nails dug into Marc's shoulders.

"Come along with me, baby. That's the way, come with me. With me," He said, holding your head in one hand and working miracle down on your clit with the other one.

Your release was unlike anything you've ever experienced. Everything became merged into one, and time didn't make sense. Your back arched as you and Marc came together. You could feel him releasing inside you, giving you everything that he has.

His hips ground to a halt as he at last rode out both of your orgasms. He slid out of you and fell down on the bed, right beside you, both of you panting, sweating mess.

He gathered you into his arms, cradling you near to his body. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lifted up your face to face him.

"I love you," He said every word like his entire life depended on them, and at that moment, for him, it truly did. "And no amount of fighting is going to change that fact,"

"I know," You whispered back. "I love you so much too," You smiled back at him, snuggling closer to him.

"Ready to talk about this whole thing like adults in the morning?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and you nodded, giggling a little.

"Now let's get you cleaned up," he said, reluctantly getting out of bed, earning a groan from you.

Rest assured, that night went ahead with no bumps, with both of you feeling more complete and loved than ever. He was yours, you were his, and no amount of deities and their powers can change that.

A/N: This is it!! My first ever fic after 3 long years of terrible writer's block, I hope this wasn't very hard to read, I'm still a lot rusty. I'd absolutely love to hear your opinions on it, and reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

Also, this is my first ever smut fic ever, I hope it wasn't too bad, alright I'll leave y'all to it.

Also, shoutout to @jakelcckley @laters-gators @budcooper @astroboots @stormkobra-5 these amazing writers who predominantly write for Oscar and his characters for unintentionally giving me enough motivation and pulling me out of my block with their amazing works. Please do go check them out, they're all absolutely amazing.

[primofate]

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days. 

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty. 

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone. 

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

Taglist:  @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @KimbapSana @fanfictionenthusiast

Crossed out means I couldn’t tag you! Sorry!

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up!):

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link:

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."