#but I think I'm settling for a design.....

[let-him-perish]

ohh seedly when i get you seedly

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Sit on It-‼️NSFW/SMUT IDEA DUMP/DRABBLE‼️

A/n: As you can tell, my hibernation is going well 😊 (I’m a liar and we all know this already 🙂‍↕️)

Anywaysssss, a freaky idea dump. I don’t remember my thought process or how I came up with this idea, but do you all know the show Ghosts, not the UK one?

If you have, then I’m thinking about the scene of Hetti and the broken washing machine….🫣Here's a tiktok about the scene if you don't know what I'm referring to

STAY WITH ME NOW! ✋🤚HEAR ME OUT!

…

Imagine Senku realizes that a lot of time is wasted on hand-washing and drying clothes — valuable time that could be used for science. To improve labor potential, he develops a washing machine and a dryer. They’re loud and bulky, and their designs aren’t perfect, but they get the job done. He cares more about practicality than aesthetics.

You’re not from Senku’s time, just a regular villager from Ishigami Village. You’ve been told that Senku has created an invention to help with laundry. You’re putting your first load into the washing machine, quietly whispering to yourself the steps he recited to you earlier. You flick the switch, and everything appears to be going smoothly.

The machine whirls, a quiet hum turns into sounds of tinkering within the machine, and right when you’re about to walk away, you hear it. Loud thuds are coming from the machine, shaking harshly side to side, and you’re panicking. Senku didn’t tell you this would happen.

So, what do you do to stop it from shaking? Stop it from what you assume is the machine breaking?

You sit on it.

You saddle the machine and press your palms against the cool metal. For a moment, it seems to help. The loud rumbling quiets to a low hum. The shaking appears to settle. It takes a few seconds for you to feel something build up. A quiet gasp escapes you, not knowing that the shaking didn’t disappear—you were absorbing it.

The machine continues to shake, but it’s not as loud as it was before. The only loud thing was you. You’re moaning without realizing it, rocking your hips slowly against the machine, the round bolts keeping the sheets of metal together, adding to the stimulation.

You look up and notice Senku watching you, jaw dropped with his laundry in hand. He only came to get his clothes washed, not expecting someone to find another use for his work. He was about to leave and figure out what to do with the newfound visuals, but you looked up and made eye contact with him. Not knowing what you are feeling, you call out to him.

“Help me.”

He drops his laundry and rushes to your side. He grabs your hips to lift you off the machine, but he can’t. Not because of a lack of upper body strength, although that is a contributing factor. It’s because you’re holding onto his wrists, leaving him unable to move. He tries to pull back, but your hold on him is too strong. Quiet chants of ‘no’ leave your lips, whimpering. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s trapped, and all he can do is watch you get off to his creation.

He watches intently. Watching as you throw you’re head back, your mouth agape, letting your moans flow freely. There was no rhythm to how you were humping the machine. The way you raise your hips ever so high up and back down to the cool metal. From his angle, he can see a puddle of slick building up on the metal, and then it hits him. You were walking around commando. There were no signs of your underwear. Likely, they were in the very load that was spinning below you.

His mouth goes dry as he continues to observe your reactions—the little things that make you halt your hips, the ones that make you gasp unexpectedly. He wonders if you’re just sensitive to stimulation because he can’t wrap his mind around the way you take great pleasure if you time your hips just right. A bolt would rub against you, pressing harder, crying out, and clasping around Senku harder.

Then suddenly it stops- the machine stops shaking. You let go of Senku’s wrists, throwing your back against the metal as you catch your breath.

“I think I broke it.” You breathe out. Senku takes a few seconds before he answers you. His mind was overloaded with information. Gathering all his observations —your reactions —Senku came to a conclusion.

“No, you didn’t.” His fingers flick against the switch, turning the machine back on with you still sitting on it. The machine hums before it starts to shake again, giving you no time to react. He watches as you arch your back, not expecting the vibration to come back.  

One cycle wasn’t enough.

...

A/n: Studying is going okay!  I’m doing okay now!  I locked in, and ochem is fun again! Can’t say the same for physics…I think writing is my stress outlet at the moment, so expect some drabbles here and there.

[drowsy-king]

Hi, I saw that you are evaluating OCs and if it is not a problem I would like to send you mine

I have four OCs, but today I'm only going to talk about my Yuu, any other day I'll talk about the others

here is the link explaining more about it https://www.tumblr.com/marinahavik/755372242623397888/yumi-yozakuras-stats?source=share

Her name is Yumi Yozakura and she is a Mickey Mouse distorter She is 17 years old

This feminine name has a delicate and sweet sound, originating from the combination of the elements yu (優), meaning "superiority", "gentleness" or yu (裕), meaning "abundance" with mi (美), meaning "beauty".

The surname Yozakura (夜桜) means "evening cherry blossoms" or "night cherry trees" in Japanese. "Yozakura" is derived from "yo" (夜), meaning "night", and "sakura" (桜), meaning "cherry blossom". This term is also used to describe viewing cherry blossoms at night, an event known as night hanami.

Yumi's name would literally mean abundant beauty of cherry blossoms at night.

In short, she is the youngest of seven siblings from a wealthy and influential family in Japan, who work in a variety of industries, from technology to beauty products.

But this is all kind of a facade, as they are a family of spies and assassins with superhuman and supernatural abilities.

Each sibling except Yumi possessed a supernatural ability that they called Nōryoku.

After a certain incident when Yumi was 10 years old, and her mother ended up passing away, she was forbidden to leave the house and her older brother (the firstborn) became a kind of Yandere.

Some interesting facts about her: she is a martial artist and knows different types of fighting, her blood is technically poisonous, and she is the receptacle of a snake spirit.

(I think I'd better stop here before it ends up being too long, because I have a lot to say about her 😅😂)

HIII!! YES, I AM :3

My first reaction was literally "A DIVA?!" that made my lil bro look at me weird- 😔

AND HOLY MOLY, YOU HAVE A LOT OF INFO THAN ANYONE OUT THERE I RATED SO FAR- xD

By reading the info about her... You're telling me.. I have Aphrodite as a female in my ask box!?!? -yelled out the ex-simp of Aphrodite in the hallways of his home NAH NAH CUZ SHE HAS HER BLOOD AS POISONOUS??

ALRALR YALL, SETTLED DOWN, WE GONNA RATE THIS BEAUTIFUL, GORGEOUS DIVA

So, I see her as the type of friend that is like- you can't live without her. Not in a way like, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO, DON'T LEAVE US" type of way, but as the type of "Man, I am soo bored- *She appears* OMG, HAIII" :3 Like I see her being that fun YET can get dead serious friend. Yk?

SHE CAN KICK BUTTS TOO? HELL YEAH HIYAAAA (-inserts Dropckicking)

RATING TIME RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

-Character design: 8.5/10 -Backstory: 9.5/10 -Facts: 9/10 -"UM" (Not really UM but is basically her strength and her skills): 10/10 -Name: 100/10 (LOVE HOW YOU SEARCH THE MEANING AND HOW IT FITS HER LIKE AAAA) (No hate ofc!)

OVERALL, AMAZING OC LIKE- MY JAW DROPPED Why she gotta have poison blood like my ex(Aphrodite) - /jkjkjkjk

[novelconcepts]

If no one else has requested it, Tai/Van tattoo artist AU

“You’re running out of space,” Taissa quips when she greets Van at the door early Thursday morning. It strikes Van, as it always does, how matter-of-factly she says this. Other people in her position might turn the statement into a friendly-banter question, or not mention it at all; lord knows it is in Tai’s best interest for Van to keep coming around, wallet open and various body parts offered up for inspection.

But if Tai were “other people”, Van probably wouldn’t be here at all, so she guesses it’s a moot point. Yeah, she loves the art, the process, even to a certain degree the discomfort of sitting and waiting for Tai to finish—but she knows herself well enough to understand none of that is the beating heart of this situation. The beating heart being, of course, Taissa Turner herself.

She’s standing now with an easy smile dancing on her full lips, dressed casually in a pair of oversized overalls hanging half-open over a cropped t-shirt. Her hair is pulled back from her face, and Van can’t help beaming back at her. It’s an effect Tai’s had since her second visit—the one she’d undertaken after going back and forth with herself for a full two weeks. It had felt a little insane, a little desperate, and as essential as oxygen. Did she really need another tattoo so soon? Did she really need it?

They’re well past the second visit now, Van’s arms covered in Taissa’s intricate designs. She’s still not as complete as Tai herself, of course, who bears art from friends and colleagues all over her light brown skin, but she’s a far cry from the high school student who used to dream of individuality back in small-town Jersey. She’s grown up now, and she finds the person who blinks back from her bathroom mirror suits her more every year.

“You know this is going to take hours,” Taissa says as Van makes her way to the table. “Still time to back out.”

“Do you imply all your clients might be chicken, or am I just special?” Van wonders. Tai laughs and doesn’t answer, only shoots a glance over her shoulder as she adjusts her supplies and produces the stencil.

“Don’t be shy now.”

Van twists on the spot, grasps the hem of her t-shirt, and hikes it over her head. She hesitates for only a micro-second—barely anything at all, she assures herself—and wriggles out of her sports bra. The impulse to reach up and cover herself is powerful, but when she looks back, Taissa's expression hasn't so much as flickered out of place. That same challenge is in her eyes, reflecting back to the first time Van had settled in her chair and held out an arm.

Just a job for her, Van reminds herself with a stab of disappointment.

"You want anything for the front?" Tai asks. Professional. Natural. Van shakes her head.

"I'm good."

"We'll see," Taissa teases, and then she's all focus, placing the stencil several times before she's satisfied with her work. She gestures to the mirror, asking Van to verify all is perfect before things get any more permanent.

"Up a little in that left corner, I think," Van tells her. Dark brows furrow, but Taissa obediently makes one final adjustment, and from the twitch of her mouth, Van knows she was right to insist. Taissa's as close to a perfectionist as Van's ever met, and it wins no brownie points to keep quiet in her presence. She seems to like when Van counters her suggestions, when Van allows herself to be unapologetically opinionated.

"It's your body," Tai said at their first consultation. "It's fucked if you just let stuff slide to keep from hurting my feelings."

She's good at what she does in every regard, a true artist with a steady hand and a natural inclination toward reading a body. If she hadn't been, Van wouldn't have come back. Probably wouldn't have come back. Would have been an idiot to come back, and Taissa does not prize idiots.

Van stretches out on the table, arms beneath her head, and Taissa rolls her stool close.

"Ready?"

She's been ready for weeks, Van doesn't say. She's been ready ever since that last swipe of Taissa's hand, clearing the excess ink and pronouncing the abstract shapes on her upper arm complete. It's almost an addiction unlike any Van's experienced, be it personally or secondhand; she isn't sure how healthy it is, craving body art this way. When she'd first conceptualized getting a tattoo, it hadn't seemed that big a deal. Just a chance to renovate the body she's going to be stuck with for the rest of her life, to make it a little more her own.

And then she'd met Taissa, who talks about art like it's what she was put on this earth to do. Taissa, who is clever and surprisingly silly. Taissa, who makes a needle feel like a kiss.

Van breathes deeply, waiting for the first mark. This moment is always heady, a little bit like how she imagines the beat before a parachutist leaps from a plane. She wonders if everyone feels this way, or if it's merely her own response to Taissa's hands braced against her skin.

She means to ask Taissa out sometime. Has meant to do it for entirely too long now, always finding a reason not to at the last second. Taissa seems too tired at the end of a long piece. Taissa is irritable, though she's trying not to show it. Taissa has already half-jokingly asked if Van wants to book up immediately, and there's no point asking a woman out to dinner if she's expecting your next job to pay her rent.

"Good?" Taissa asks, and Van realizes she hasn't been breathing. She sucks in air, trying to hold still.

"Perfect. Hey, while you're back there, how much do you charge for massages?"

"More than your bank account," says Tai with measured charm. It's all Van can do to keep from rolling over and reaching for her. Inappropriate, for sure, and likely to ruin the grandiose mural Taissa's beginning across Van's back. It's going to be a stunner when all is said and done: vivid colors, crisp linework, an enormous VHS tape made up of iconography from classic cinema all collaged into shape. It'll take hours, multiple visits, a stupid amount of money, and all of Van's stamina to stay put.

She wonders what Vicky would think of her only child's frame these days, no longer pink and freckled so much as allowing the technicolor of her heart to splash up through her skin. She tells herself she doesn't care. It suits her. It suits her more than she ever thought her life could.

"You never told me," she says, breathless despite herself. "Why you got into this. Didn't you say you were supposed to be a lawyer or something?"

Taissa utters a low chuckle, which Van finds despairingly sexy. "That's a long story."

"And I'm gonna be here a long time," Van urges. Her skin is already beginning to sparkle with the first edges of pain. It'll be good to have a distraction from that sensation, not to mention the deep pulse at the base of her belly. "Hit me."

There's a long pause, the only sound in the room the buzz of Taissa's tattoo gun. Finally, she clears her throat.

"Why do I feel like you actually give a shit about this?"

"Because I do," says Van honestly. She wants to know this woman. Wants to know everything about her. "C'mon. You keep taking the inside of my brain and etching it in my flesh. I can't wonder about you?"

She could be imagining it, but she thinks Tai's free hand is lingering a little too long at the base of her neck. She's definitely imagining it, but she's sure she can hear a smile spreading across Tai's lips.

"Come on," she coaxes. "Tell me a story."

Someday, she tells herself, she will ask Taissa out. Someday, she'll have the guts to take that dare. Might even win Tai's favor for being so fucking ballsy. Might work out. She'll find out eventually.

For now, she is content to listen as Taissa begins to spin a tale.

[forgettable-au]

I'm sick so I drew silly things about my AU lmao don't take these that seriously

[snatcher-no-snatching]

oops let myself get goaded into thinking about cowboy bob and now I have this! big canvas sorry, couple of closeups under the cut

[cinnamon-flame]

Happy easter to everyone but these two especially

[pink-n-greennneerg-n-knip]

cookie art dump :3

[sleep-deprived-luka]

Gog au niigo for tonights doodle

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

hey do you guys ever think about how Elhokar stopped seeing cryptics after Kaladin became the captain of his guard. He'd been seeing them out of the corner of his eye, in the mirror, everywhere, much like Shallan did before/ in the early stages of bonding Pattern. And then they stopped. Kaladin becomes the captain of the guard, Renarin bonds Glys, who is hiding, Dalinar talks with the Stormfather, Shallan has Pattern hidden in embroidery of her dress in literally every conversation with other people, and the cryptics stop appearing to Elhokar. Did the cryptics see an Honorspren and panic and stop? Did Dalinar curb-stomping Elhokar make them leave; truth and lies and Elhokar trying to be a king as now defined by someone else but now a different person? Trying to live the same lie in a different way? How often did he say that Truth that would have been the first Truth but no spren heard? Did he start to think about the shapes of those shadows that had haunted him when he saw Pattern? When did he start seeing those shapes again? Did he feel like he was able to say the immortal words? Do you think he tried to say them at some point? Do you think he decided to let himself be at that last moment before the spear and the pain and the blood on the marble?

[sysig]

Oh dang, I really got in at the last minute! Time really flew this year!! Happy requestober, everything I've seen looks amazing so far! Could you please draw something where the Vargases get a Joel kitty but just like... *Not* under terribly sad circumstances? Like maybe after adopting Todd, they get a family cat? Thank you so much! <3

Day 31 - Mutual introductions

[pickaropoprocks]

We're back with the final edition of my prsk character stylization studies after exactly a month and a day!! Hope y'all have enjoyed these :3

2nd Year Leaders | 3rd Year Leaders | Pink Characters | Purple Characters + An | Shinonomes and Hinomoris | Coolest Cringefails

[nuyokaiart]

There she is.

[your-ne1ghbor]

Alright the pull came in and ya'll wanted to see some of the Magnus and Star doodles so here you go! :D

So here is some star concept doodles:

LASTLY, MAGNUS DOODLES (FW, SLIGHT GORE)

I swear I had more, but since it is like 10:22 pm here, Imma drop these for now.

Bonus:

Bonus Bonus:

Here is a fun fact: After the incident, Magnus, Agatha, and the survivors did not get proper medical treatment directly after the event. A lot of the medical materials was turned to ash and whatever did survive cannot be used because the heat could alter the chemical components in exithers or healing potions. The things that were mainly salvaged was cloths that survived the fire, which was washed thoroughly before being used as bandages.

Although they had a alternative for bandanges, many of the survivors died from smoke, lack of medicine, other related injuries, or...uhhh yeah. Luckily, other kingdoms were fortunate to help the citizens and they were able to gain proper medical treatment after around a month.

I just wanted to share this since this makes logical sense for a incident that was this bad. And also because Magnus got that nasty burn scar that was not even treated until like around a month later, same with Agatha's eye. So yeah 😜

@spectator-zee @oh-shtars @rascalentertainments

@tumblingdownthefoxden @dangerousflowerpanda @thesafireartist

[projectaffectivity]

Wants to appear composed, but has no composure.

[inexplicably-spookified]

creatur