#drabs

[definitelynotaminion]

For the 500 words prompt on Patreon. Something soft and sweet between Link, Ganondorf, and Zelda.

Apparently I'm bad at 500 words, because this is 992. I still have five "500 word" and three "1000 word" prompt spots left on Patreon, if anybody is interested.

-

In a post-Calamities Hyrule, where the land is barely tamed and a few steps out of civilization invites attack by vicious monsters, there isn’t really a centralized government.

Whatever the monarchy used to be, rich and powerful enough to protect people or enact laws as needed, now there is... Zelda.

Still a princess, still Hylia reborn in mortal flesh, still revered by her people, yes.

But where before the royal family lived apart from most, in a high-towered castle with abundant resources, now Zelda is just another person in Hyrule.

She lives in a one-room house with the knight who once pledged his life, and the tall Gerudo warrior who was used as a vessel for the darkest evil known to humanity.

Ganondorf is not Ganon. A single glance at his face, or being within a hundred yards of him, proves that to anyone who faced the darkness or stood below a blood moon.

It is especially obvious that Ganondorf is not Ganon when he wakes up, though.

You’d think it’d be Link who slept in-- fearless, improper, wild Link, who woke up in a ruin and spent most of his new life in the woods and grasslands, places he is still much more comfortable in than civilization.

Contrary to expectation-- always, always contrary to expectation, Link-- the knight instead woke early, used to the chores one picked up while living alone. Fetch water early, hunt breakfast early, don’t leave foraging or mending or weapon maintenance for tomorrow, when it could be done today, be done now.

Link wakes with the birds and the dawn, seeming like a natural thing, a piece of the wilderness as much as a deer that steps into the garden. Like he’s some creature who just happened to be walking by a human house, not the one who lives there.

Ganondorf, however.

Like Zelda, he remembers every moment of their hundred years. Unlike Zelda, who is so relieved to be able to do things again (to teach children, to cook, to smell flowers, to read and write and experiment!), Ganondorf is mostly... tired.

Unlike Zelda, he spent a century a slave in his own skin, possessed by the darkness and unable to stop it, mind twisted and fighting his own hands as much as her.

So Ganondorf sleeps in, and they try not to begrudge him the many, many naps he takes, the reprise from violence.

It’s still very obvious who he is and who he is most certainly not in these moments, though.

Dor, Link signs, impatient. A ‘d’ on his biceps, which had flabbergasted the Gerudo and sent Zelda into shocked, inappropriate laughter the first time she saw it. Dor. Dor!

“He can’t hear you with his eyes closed, Link.” Zelda makes breakfast, when she rouses, some few hours after Link but before their third, and she makes breakfast now. It’s not that Link can’t cook.

It’s that Link thinks a cake is four ingredients. While he’s not wrong, and what he makes is edible, sometimes Zelda would like meals with more than, at most, five ingredients.

She’s making pancakes and fruit, with a vigorously whipped cream on top. Ganondorf will appreciate it. 

Like Zelda, food had been something unnecessary to him for so long, locked in a cosmic battle of holy and evil energy, more spirit than flesh for long, long decades.

Link rolls his eyes at her. He eyes the meal in progress with some suspicion. He has as much a sweet tooth as anyone, but is firmly of the opinion that every meal should have meat somewhere.

He’s also half-climbed onto Ganondorf’s massive, shrouded shape. The sheet drapes over his huge chest and arms only serves to accent how large a man he is, Link dwarfed next to him.

“He’ll wake up when breakfast is ready, leave him be.” Zelda leavens the pancakes with eggs and some powdered root, known to increase the rise. She cracks each egg carefully, meticulously avoiding a single shell piece fragmenting off.

Ganondorf moves in his sleep, yanking the sheet up higher, and the blonde Hylian accosting him goes comically flying. One of Links shoes goes soaring into the living room. He lands with a muffled thump, comically dumped from the bed, and when he stands his hair is a cucco’s nest.

He looks bewildered and offended at once.

He’s slept so much already, Link complains with his hands. We’re supposed to go riding today.

Ganondorf and Link had went on a multi-week crusade-- complete with battle maps, provisions, and scouting trips-- to find the largest horse in six different regions, large enough to fit a male Gerudo.

Now the massive, noble mount towers over Link’s horse-- a spotted “brown one” of no special breeding that followed him home one day-- and a descendent of Zelda’s original mare, whose bloodline predates the Calamity by several generations.

They are, point of fact, supposed to go riding today. Link had been in charge of packing a picnic lunch, a concept that had perplexed him for hours until they finally realized he didn’t get the point.

To Link, it made far more sense and took just as much effort to hunt fresh ingredients at their destination, and cook over a camp fire.

Butter sizzled on the iron pan and Zelda poured the cakes into it one by one, ignoring the steadily-more-ridiculous antics Link went through to wake up Ganondorf, including but not limited to tickling his chest with a feather, putting his hand in a bowl of water, and tugging on his long, red hair.

She did draw the limit on him bringing in a cucco to drop on Ganondorf’s head, a foiled last-ditch effort which made her inevitable victory all the sweeter.

And she did win, in the end: as the cakes cooked and the tempting smell filled their house, Ganondorf stirred as she knew he would.

“Sm’lls good, Princ’ss.” He slurs, blinking into wakefulness, and Link’s sound of wordless rage echoes across the countryside.

[dalliansss]

No. 28 for Melkor/Sauron, please? 💌

Angbang + 28 = …as a lie.

Snow dusts the shores of Almaren. Mairon lets his golden eyes wander upon the many and varied snowpersons that litter the far northern lakeshore, all of them wrought with varying sizes of snowballs, and the twigs that made up the arms positioned so, such that they all seemed to be striking individual poses. The snowballs are lumpy and it takes Mairon all of his self-control not to tear them down and rebuild them, all perfectly spherical, all the twig-arms the exact same length, and angle.

He does not need to turn his head to know Thû has materialized from wherever it was that he goes unclad. Mairon feels his heart quicken inside his fana, and he turns to find the 'maia of Námo' standing a few paces behind him, grinning in that infuriatingly attractive, lopsided smirk of his.

"I wished to talk to you, Thû, it is why I sent a note," said Mairon.

He, the chief maia of Aulë, has never known hesitation. He Sang of Order in the Music after all, and Order left no room for floundering. Just purpose, a straight road to get there no matter what. This one thing was the same, and Mairon will approach it with the same direct manner.

"Oh?" Thû casually plucks up a lock of his own black hair and twirls it around a finger. "And here I thought you would criticize mine snowpersons, for being lumpy. Just so you know, I did make them rather lumpy, for I know it annoys you."

Mairon rolls his eyes. He takes a step forward, and another. Thû quirks a perfect eyebrow at him. They stand so close, that Mairon could just reach out and brush his fingertips on the other maia's cheek.

And he does. Tis fascinating, how Thû's skin runs just a little colder than his own. But then again he is Fire-maia. Ever burning. Ever warm. Ever radiant.

He leans forward. He kisses Thû upon the lips. Mairon puts forth all his earnestness here, yet it half-maddens him to be unable to read Thû at all. Even if his kiss is returned, just a little.

Inscrutable.

Mairon draws back first. "I want to bond with you, in the same manner my lord and his lady are bonded."

Thû's eyebrows shoot higher that for a moment Mairon is afraid they will disappear from his fana.

"You would, would you?" said Thû, and the smirk reappears on his lips again, but this time, it is a smirk that promises something else. "I have a condition."

"Speak it," says Mairon.

"Already agreeing without hearing?"

"Speak it, and if it is within my power, I will give it."

"Tis rather simple. Come away with me." Thû's smile grows.

Soft confusion suffuses Mairon's features. "For a day? Is it not what we are doing now?"

Thû laughs. He steps back, turns, and the snow seems to fall just a little heavier around them. Mairon feels the faint whispers of concern as he keeps his gaze on this one, this mysterious Ainu, with his black tunics and his black hair and his purple eyes, literal hooks for the fëa.

I'd follow him everywhere if it was within my power to do so, Mairon thinks.

[pizzat-i]

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel it's all that I can give to you, my dear

———————

going back to my roots drawing desduo aura farming for 3rd life’s fourth year anniversary! doubling as a redraw of the series’ first year anniversary as well.

rough turnaround & closeups under the cut

near total overhaul of my previous design, but i hope you enjoy this one better than the last

[urmumhaha]

I wish butch n femme balls existed. Not to b a fucking sap n a massive dyke but wow. Ugh even. Just wanna wear a gown n stilettos n have my honey greet me w a bouquet before we leave n we wear matching or complimentary jewelry n spend hours on my hair and makeup to impress. N then when we get there my honey will spin me around the room for a brief dance before grabbing something to drink, wine for me n whiskey for her, as we chat w other dykes n celebrate butchfemmeness. Or whatever

[homosexuality-enthusiast]

His name is Tamatoa :)

[torubeth]

you loathe mondays. it indicates the start of another week and your mind’s already filled with all the things you need to get done.

but that’s all forgotten when you enter the kitchen to find your husband cooking breakfast in nothing but a pair of sweats.

‘oh. my. god’ now that’s a sight for sore eyes.

he turns around at the sound of your voice and instantly, there’s a smile on his face ‘good morning my love, sleep well?’ kento asks, his arms outstretched.

‘it’s a good morning indeed. you just blessed my eyes kento’ you swoon, as you go up to hug him.

‘blessed?’ he leans down to kiss your forehead, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear.

‘yes, blessed! you’re so beautiful kento’ you gush, tiptoeing to kiss him on the cheek.

was it the compliment? or the kiss? he didn’t know but nonetheless, he turned red.

‘you’re too much, you know that’ he rolls his eyes.

‘god forbid a woman appreciates her husband’ now you roll your eyes.

he just laughs as he turns to off the stove.

‘ugh! my husband is so handsome, can you give us a 360?’ you ask.

‘us? there’s only you my girl’ he bemuses.

‘yes, us. you know, for the invisible cameras’ you gesture around as you step back a little, looking at him expectantly.

he shakes his a head a little ‘you’re not gonna give up are you?’ he asks, knowing full well you won’t.

‘nope. now c’mon, give us a once over’ you say as you cup your mouth.

a small sigh leaves his mouth,

leaning off the counter, he straightens to his full height and gives a small spin, head bending a little to bow.

‘oooooo! i love how your muscles just pop and and your shoulders are just so on point and good god, i love you’ you squeal.

‘honestly darling, the things you make me do’ he grabs you by the waist, lips almost touching yours.

‘i’m just admiring my husband’ you defend, as you reach up to press your lips to his.

a small laugh erupts from his chest ‘thank you baby, but look at the time, we better get going’ he strokes your hair.

‘one more minute, i won’t get to see you when we leave for work’ you pout.

he just smiles, his hands tightening around you.

‘oh and ken? please don’t wear clothes anymore’ you suggest, earning a small smack on the back as he pushes you out of the kitchen.

(just husband kento, so rblog💪🏼😩)

[xfgpng]

your boyfriend is late again to another date. he promised he wouldn’t miss this one. he’s been busy with “work” but you know that’s just another bullshit excuse so you leave your apartment all dressed up and before you can stop yourself, you’re texting him again.

a nice dinner and half eaten dessert later you’re on your knees at the back of his car. it’s so hot and the windows are foggy but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the way he’s fucking you.

the car is shaking and you’re pretty sure people walking by know exactly what’s going on inside. his windows may be tinted but you’re loud and he enjoys making you scream for him.

“that’s right good girl” he grins, “let me fuck you the way he never does yeah?”

| eren, tanaka, suna, atsumu, dabi, chrollo

[serpentface]

It's peak springtime and everything's in bloom and nothing bad is ever going to happen again. Lets day-drink senseless in the bushes.

[m00nbuggies]

i forgot how pathetic he was in the first couple chapters of toa

[ohodie]

RIBBONS ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

luke castellan x reader

based on this request!!

★ “the way you touch me’s like a curse that can’t be broken” soren, beabadobee

ABOUT - luke’s girlfriend convinces luke to let her tie ribbons around his arm.

WARNINGS - none!!

“i just think it’ll be funny!”

luke lets out a soft giggle, shaking his head. he’s laying on your bed in the aphrodite cabin, his legs dangle off the mattress as he stares up at the ceiling.

“no, no, you keep your ribbons to yourself, y/n.” he says, cracking his knuckles. you finish tying a pink bow around your hair; a cute addition to your neat ponytail. you walk over to his place on your bed, before putting your hand mirror on your bedside table.

you stand in front of luke’s dangling legs, your hands on your hips as you pout at him. he slowly sit up, tilting his head up to look at your face.

“you look really pretty,” he says softly, reaching out to grab your waist. his thumb caresses the side of your torso, causing your cheeks to warm up.

“thanks, luke. maybe you’d look as pretty as i do if you let me tie a bow around you…” you sigh, releasing your hand from it’s place on your hips to gently hold the hand luke positioned on your waist.

luke rolls his eyes, standing up as he let out a hesitant laugh. he leans in, using his free hand to caress your face.

his face leans in even closer, seconds away from kissing you. at the last moment, you step back. you held a finger over his eager lips, shaking your head as you stifle a mischievous smile.

“y/n…” he whines, his hand still grazing your waist, before it drops in defeat. you shrug your shoulders, taking another step back.

“sorry luke, i can’t kiss you anymore. we’re breaking up.” you say playfully, turning around dramatically.

“is this because i don’t want you to cover me in bows and ribbons or whatever?” he asks, holding back a coy smile.

you nod, crossing your arms. “mhm.”

luke rolls your eyes, walking closer to you. he rests his chin on top of your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you as he presses his chest around your back. his hair tickles your neck, making you giggle involuntarily.

“fine,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss on your neck. you smile widely, turning around to face him.

“really?!” you ask, your hands softly gripping his shoulders. he nods, sighing.

soon enough, he’s sat on your bed as you begin tying a ribbon around his toned arm. your thighs touch as your hands delicate tie the lacy pink ribbon into a bow, the feeling of your fingertips grazing his skin sending shivers down his spine.

he looks down at the bow, and then back up at you.

“happy?” he asks as you retract your hands, watching you as you smile at your hard work. you nod, caressing his arm with your fingers as you begin to attack him with dainty kisses all over his newly decorated arm.

you pull your phone out of your pocket, positioning yourself as you giggle softly.

“smile!” you coo at luke, watching him sigh dramatically before smiling for the camera.

“what a cutie,” you hum, taking the photo and putting your phone away. he stands up, wrapping his arms around you. “can you send that photo to me, actually?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled as he presses his face against the top of your head.

“mkay. why?” you say curtly, lifting your head to look up at him.

“cause it’s actually really cute.”

you purse your lips, smiling at him in victory. “told you. it’s all in the bows.”

he laughs dryly, leaning down until his lips are centimetres away from yours. your eyes flutter closed, giving him the signal it’s okay to continue. he quickly leans in, kissing you softly and his hand cups your cheek.

you wrap your arms around his neck, indulging him in his need for your attention and touch.

he finally pulls away, kissing your forehead before looking down at you. “i don’t have to wear this outside, do i?” he asks.

“yeah, you do.” you giggle, taking his hand and kissing his cheeks.

he rolls his eyes, pretending to be bothered as you drag him out of the aphrodite cabin.

honestly, he would do anything for you. he’d probably wear clown makeup and fortnite underwear for you.

he’s just grateful it’s just bows, and not minecraft hoodies and my little pony sweatpants.

A/N - i would kill for my little pony sweatpants. i want them on my body asap.

[dalliansss]

Bór grins so widely that his cheeks hurt. He is seated upon the customary seat reserved to a rider of annabon, and his great creature, the matriarch of her herd, follows each instinctive call he makes, each subtle tug on her reins, the ropes of which are made with the tough rope only Easterlings know how to craft. Behind him, also seated upon about four layers of carpet, are three elven-lords, two of them well on their way to being drunk (horrendously so), yet again. 

But Bór’s benefactor, the Lord of Himring, Maedhros, is currently shaking his head. His brother, Maglor, snatches the bottle of miruilin from Finrod Felagund’s fingers, and takes a big mouthful of the sour milk-wine, wincing as he he hands back the bottle to his golden blond cousin.

And then they resume singing.

It is a ditty, Bór understands, those raucous songs about lewd things. He speaks no Taliska, but his Lord Maedhros does, and Lord Maedhros explained that the ditty was about an adaneth’s tits that were famed for being so big and squishy they can drown both an adan or an elda lover. Bór understood tits very well -- why, two of his own four wives had very generous tits.

Maglor and Finrod were trying to outsing each other. Finrod had a lute and strums the lively tune, and Maglor’s incomparable voice sings the words, and then Finrod sings too and their voices meld and Bór’s grin stretches.

Beneath them all, his annabon raises her trunk, fumbling about for peanuts.

Lord Maedhros, who has taken custody of the peanut bag, grabs a handful of almonds and walnuts, and lets the probing trunk sniff them out and find them. Bór’s annabon, whose name in the Easterling tongue translates to Madam Peanut, eagerly vacuums all the nuts in Maedhros’s gold-and-mithril hand. 

The Lothlann tundra spreads before them in the short-lived but very vibrant colors of summer. Bór tugs on the ropes of Peanut’s reins, and she follows his cue and gently veers to the right -- they are aiming for a lake, very nice for baths at this time of the year. 

Maglor and Finrod are still singing about great squishy tits. Lord Maedhros shakes his head anew. Bór finally gives up grinning and laughs at the song.

And then someone yells. Bór turns -- Maglor has finally lost his balance and toppled off Peanut’s back. But she is swift, and she catches him with her trunk, and Maglor, piss-drunk, waves his arms as he is lifted high in the air.

“WEEEE!” The former Lord of the Gap yells. “Look, I’m flying! I’m flying!” “AI!!!!” Finrod, King of Nargothrond exclaims. “I want to fly too! Tis unfair! I want to fly too!”

And he makes to jump, but Lord Maedhros catches him by the scruff, yanking him back onto the safety of the carpets on Madam Peanut’s back. “You are not flying anywhere you great drunken idiot, you will stay right here. Terrible business, you two-- it is like I am babysitting you all over again! Ilúvatar in Eä!”

Bór laughs again. The lake will come into view soon, and he makes several calls toward Madam Peanut, and she deposits Lord Maglor safely back onto her back, beside his brother and cousin. Finrod scrambles and pins him down by laying over him.

“There!” The King of Nargothrond drunkenly declares. “Maglor’s not going anywhere again!” “Terrible,” Lord Maedhros says once more. “Terrible -- tomorrow let’s see you two handle that hangover. Eru! Such pests!”

Summers in Lothlann are beautiful, Bór thinks. The world is in full color, and he has silly elven lords on the annabon with him, and Madam Peanut delights in the company. A perfect day.

[about-faces]

Title cards for all ten episodes of Batman: The Caped Crusader (2024)

[loecassia]

tap for quality !!

I decided I want to try and redraw a handful of vld frames to practice backgrounds and I couldn’t pass this one up… more to come (hopefully)

[scottpartridge]

Drab Seedeater is day 28 of #gigglebirds hosted by @printyourbird  @wingingitdrawing and @paints_and_penguins

[rocketbirdie]

Side by side comparison screenshots. If you're like me and you were unhappy with how washed-out Wilds looks, lowering the game's brightness setting can make a significant difference.

On the left is recommended/default brightness, set to 10. On the right is brightness set to 2.

[fjordfolk]

anyway here's the rest of them