#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]

Aikanár -- Egg, to his family -- refuses to relinquish the carved and painted horses and ducks that he is currently playing with, despite his nursemaid telling him that it is time for the midday meal. No, no, no, the little golden prince declares, and when his nursemaid persists, he lets out a great shriek of affront and crawls under his bed, chanting the words over and over: no, no, no. 

It is no fault of Nemmirile, to be sure, just that her charge sometimes has difficult days, and in mealtimes Aikanár could be triply difficult. A consequence, perhaps, of the ending of the tradition of Formenos Summers. 

She tries in vain to get Egg to come out from under his bed, to no avail. That is, until the Prince Ingoldo finds her flattened to the floor, trying to reach for his brother.

“I will handle it,” says the prince, and Nemmirile stands up gratefully, bowing. “Would you please help my Amil in laying out the midday meal?”

It takes no effort at all in Ingoldo’s part to coax his youngest brother from under the bed. All he needed to do was sit down, and Egg crawls out on his own, a dust bunny or two clinging to his golden curls -- and he flops onto his brother’s lap with a big smile. Ingoldo beams down at his sibling.

“Goodness, you’re dirty!” he laughs as he plucks the dust bunnies from Aikanár’s hair, discarding them to the side. “Now how about the midday meal? Our Amil cooked.”

“No, no, no!” Aikanár insists, though he is smiling. 

“Ai! But why? Do you not love our Amil’s food?” Ingoldo feigns a gasp, widening summer blue eyes dramatically at his brother.

“I want Ingoldo food!” the elfling declares with a happy shriek, even as he wraps small arms around his brother’s neck. A new flutter of laughs escape Ingoldo, and he stands up bearing his little brother in his arms.

“Alright, alright,” Ingoldo hums. “If I cook for you, what would you want?”

“HUMMMMMM,” Aikanár pretends to think. Though he plucks up a fistful of his brother’s golden hair and puts it into his mouth. “Pepol pie.”

“What?! People pie? Ai, Aikanár!” Ingoldo laughs again, harder this time.

“No! Pepol-- apple pie!” The golden hair in the elfling’s mouth is spat out.

“But that is dessert. Hmm, how about a compromise? How about you finish the portion of lunch Amil shall have upon your plate, and I will give you apple pie after? How about this?”

“Ok,” Egg nods in all seriousness, pulling back. He places both small hands upon his brother’s cheeks. “Ok, will eat. Promise? Apple pie after. Right after, not-- not trick, like Atar. Atar says after, but he forgets. I dislike. Promise? Promise, Ingoldo?”

A beaming smile is his brother’s answer, followed by kisses onto those small, elfling hands. “I promise. Shall we?”

“Yes!”

For @skaelds and @antares0606

[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

[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.

[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

[brokehorrorfan]

I Saw the TV Glow's soundtrack is available on vinyl for $40 via A24. Expected to ship in July, the 2xLP album is pressed on "Pink Opaque" colored vinyl and housed in a gatefold jacket.

It features music from yeule, Caroline Polachek, Florist, Bartees Strange, Maria BC, King Woman, Jay Som, L'Rain, The Weather Station, Drab Majesty, Proper., Sadurn, Sloppy Jane featuring Phoebe Bridgers, and a vinyl-exclusive track from Snail Mail.

[definitelynotaminion]

Evil Purging Seal pt. 3

Warnings: teenagers doing teenage things, a time skip but Kishi's ages never make any sense so underage still

I'm going to be posting the rest of the parts here periodically, but if you want to jump ahead and see all I have written, the entire WIP so far is on patreon (JUST for early reading, the entire thing WILL be up in time on tumblr eventually and when it's all done I'll post it on ao3). The full fic is 7k+ so far.

-

TIME SKIP. A YEAR PASSES (roughly). The LAND OF SNOW MOVIE begins. Fights happen. KAKASHI is UNCONSCIOUS. The GENIN are left alone to FEND FOR THEMSELVES.

They must GET SASUKE OFF for plot reasons.

ZERO (0/3) Genin know how to OPERATE A VULVA. Sakura has a dick in this it's the blind leading the blind fr

-

“Ne, ne, Sasuke-- so you’ve really--?” Naruto’s hands were twin brands on his knees, hot where his shorts met his knee. The bare skin contact was distracting.

“Shut up,” Sasuke snapped, half a snarl, but rather than back up, Naruto only drew in closer. The fourth gem on his bracelet, the second largest, was already a deep pink. There were no black marks leaking from his curse seal, but he was too angry to sit still.

Not too angry to want to fix this, though-- that, Kakashi had said, would come when the fifth gem lit up. When enough evil chakra had corrupted his emotions that he wouldn’t want a fix, would only want more power, and might turn to the traitor Sannin himself.

Naruto refused to let that happen.

He tightened his grip on Sasuke’s knees and forced them wider. Sasuke resisted at first, but since he wasn’t at the fifth gem, he had to accept it, had to-- to let it happen.

Naruto swallowed hard.

“Get your buttons for me, teme.” He instructed, not wanting to let go out of the strange sense that Sasuke would pull away, or retreat in such a way that they’d have to fight to get back here.

Sasuke swallowed his first and second responses, gave a short, terse nod, and undid the button of his shorts with jerky motions. He got the zip, too, and Naruto helped ease the material down.

Sakura made a shocked sound behind them, only to immediately squeak out an apology. Naruto’s hands paused, cheeks flushing, and Sasuke inhaled very slowly to keep a lid on his temper.

You couldn’t even see anything yet, really. Sasuke wore dark blue boxers under the grey shorts. The only thing was...

Where Naruto would expect to see a bit of a bulge, the boxers basically stuck to his skin like there was nothing there.

He leaned forward to see better and Sasuke made a little noise, like surprise. Naruto almost paused, but... well... 

It wasn’t like they really had a choice here!

So he leaned in and rubbed his thumb along the seam, trying to find out what was really under the fabric. Sasuke jerked under him.

“Dobe!” he shouted, and his tone was one Naruto hadn’t heard before. Like he was struggling to breathe right.

He really didn’t have a dick! Naruto rubbed all around, moving the fabric against Sasuke’s skin, and while it was weirdly wet, there wasn’t anything like a dick. Not even a small one.

Naruto found the slit in Sasuke’s boxers and stuck his fingers in curiously. He’d caught glimpses in dirty magazines, once or twice, and almost knew what they were talking about, here.

[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.

[xfgpng]

gojo eats pussy like he hasn’t eaten anything in days. he’s so desperate and whiny and if you weren’t so desperate yourself, you’d tease him. he does it for his own enjoyment. he’s so addicted to the way you taste and feel on his tongue.

he always takes great pride in making you feel good. he loves to edge you both but on days where he spends hours between your thighs, his dick will be straining against his boxers but he ignores it.

your moans are so pretty and he can’t get enough and you just taste so fucking good that he can’t stop even when you’re so overstimulated and shaking. he.just.keeps.going.

“just one more baby, please” he begs, eyes wide and he’s pouting. “please baby, i need it”

[vanalex]

Type O Negative on the Terrorizer cover [90s]

[artilite]

more rogue monkey mk clone :^)

that's the final! here's the part before that where i struggle to make a character design as a fanartist o(-(

[yasmeensh]

Lanayru mines. Always felt sad seeing the ancient robots inactive. I wonder how they all stopped working on the spot.

[bunny-jpeg]

backwoods!logan howlett lived out in the woods (duh). a nice warm trailer out of the reaches of most. it gave the rugged "hero" some peace, coffee in the morning, lunch from the small fridge, and a warm cooked meal in the evening. while he honestly could've moved closer to the nearby town, but he had to protect you. not that you'd hurt anyone, you could barely get a spider out of the shower without being next to tears. but rather, the world was a scary place, too scary for someone as small as you.

you were logan's sweet little wife. smiles and giggles as you made him breakfast in the tiny kitchen of your home. you moved his hand away when he tried to steal bacon right out of the pan. "you're not an animal, james." you scolded with your arms crossed. he simply kissed you on the lips, the taste of bacon grease on them, "can't help it, beautiful." he remembered when you first started to make him breakfast and how the eggs would be burnt and the bacon wasn't crispy. took a good little while, but you now got it. and you made him lovely meals. especially when he stood behind you with his hands on your hips. he was a gruff older man, much older than you. his appearance didn't give way to how old he was. even if you tried to rule your relationship by "vampire logic" (where you went off by how old the immortal person looked) you'd still turn a few heads.

his arms wrapped around you as you finished making him his morning coffee. wasn't long before the mug was put to the side and you were put on top of the counter. your panties pulled to the side and your apron flipped up. that was what logan liked about you. you were just so agreeable with him. you flowered under his attention, especially when his cock was involved. you held onto his shoulders as he got his cock out of his jeans before he rubbed it up against your slick pussy. "pretty thing." he chuckled, "pretty, pretty thing." he smelt like nature and smokes. he smelt like the home you two made. the small diamond in your ring gleamed as you held onto his shoulders as he started to move against you. you kissed him a little and moaned when he groped at your pretty breasts. this life felt so removed from the one you had previously. no longer were you stuck on subway or waiting at the photocopy machine. you weren't spilling coffee all over your white work blouse or breaking your heels on subway grates. you were a wife now, you had the certificate and the ring to prove it. he married you in the little chapel in town, painted a brighter white than the thrifted dress you wore. you both had no family to speak of, but a few of the people in town were happy to dress in their finest and celebrate your special day. the bouquet you had was made from flowers found around the trailer you lived in and in front of the church. a delicate array of wild flowers and the planted tulips at the church. logan held you in his arms while he played music on the record player. even seven months after the wedding you were happy with the life you shared with him. especially when his cock was hitting against all your sweet spots. your nails dug into the well worn fabric of his flannel shirt with his strong calloused hands held onto you soft hips. if anything had changed since marriage it was that you had a healthier glow to you and a little softness in your middle. logan loved it, he loved shoving his face into your breasts while on the couch after he fixed the satellite dish on the room. a reward for working on the roof. he loved to kiss you soft stomach, worship your goddess body.

he continued to move against you, watching your breasts bounce in his face as he moved against you. if you weren't wearing a shirt (his shirt) at that moment, his face you be between them and he'd be biting at the soft flesh until it bruised. what a possessive old man! his lips crashed into yours once more as he bruised your hips with his hands. he pressed you tightly against him as his cock hit against your softest areas. it made him see stars as he bullied his cock against your sweet cervix. he was a hungry man, he could feel the urge in his teeth. he wanted to bruise his beauty, not in a way that would cause problems. just a few marks across your supple skin. you were meant to be protected, but also marked. and while logan had many ways to do that, his favourite was leaving his finger prints and bite marks across your skin. he knew it turned you on too, he also knew if he went too far you'd tell him. that was what marriage was, right? communication. you kicked your legs out a little as you sloppily made out with your older husband once more. you felt warm all over, it was an inferno in your body as he fucked you. your nails clawed at his strong shoulders. he was so much stronger than you, even without all his abilities. he could lose them tomorrow and he could still bend you in half with ease. logan was the big scary wolverine and you were his little soft puppy. he needed to protect you. his lips grazed across your neck as you held onto the edge of the kitchen counter for support. no one could hear you for kilometers. even if someone drove by the dirt road that led to you homestead, they'd keep driving if they knew what was best for them. "logan!" you yelped. "i got ya, beautiful." he promised with another searing kiss. you knew you wouldn't last much longer. you whined against the kiss as you went white-knuckled on the counter, your legs locked around him and you climaxed around his cock. you leaned back as you relaxed, almost hitting your head on the cabinet if logan hadn't leaned forward and cupped the back of your head with one hand. he used his hand on you to pull you closer. he groaned into the kiss, he tasted like home as he finished inside of you.

he soon pulled out and got your panties on your properly. cum stained the front of the them from both ends. the slickness from his cock as he tapped the head against your clothed pussy and inside as his cum drooled out of you. you relaxed further against the cupboards, and put your arms loosely around your lover. your cheeks felt searing hot as you giggled, "i hope you know that your morning coffee doesn't always come with a side of pussy." he sighed almost dramatically before he smiled at you a little, "too bad. i think that's a great business model." then got himself back into his pants before he helped you off the counter. you held onto him as your legs felt a bit shaky. you noticed the forgotten coffee and said, "i guess i need to remake it." then pouted a little but logan took your face in his hands and said, "don't worry, i think that gave me the energy i'll need all day." <3