frustrated, overworked, sad art donaldson who comes home to you after losing what was supposed to be an ‘easy win’
and when he gets in the door, he doesn’t even take his shoes off before he’s tracking you down in your guys’ apartment; he could’ve been a bloodhound in a past life with the way he’s able to find you just by scent alone
when he does find you, curled up on the bed as you work on your laptop, there’s not a moment of hesitation before he’s crawling up over you and pushing your device aside. he’s got this soft, needy expression on his face, and then you feel his sticky + sweaty body pressing down over yours.
he’s already aching in his athletic shorts, pent up from all the adrenaline and guilt from the loss. he begins rutting down over your clothed hips like a dog in heat; burying his face into the warmth of your neck and murmuring little words and whines and moans.
his palms are pressed down on either side of your body to cage you in, his fingers curled to clutch the sheets as he bucks and rolls his cock against your pelvis. you can feel it too, it’s hot and pulsing and heavy in the confines of the fabric, and he doesn’t seem like’s gonna stop to wait for you to give any sort of protest.
you do try, pushing your hands against his chest and saying things like, “Art— wait—“
but he just shakes his head and lets out a pleading, guttural whine as he fucks your body through the layers of cotton and spandex material. your hesitancy to indulge him right away only riles him up more; heightening the desperation boiling in his core.
he’s not even totally aware of what he’s doing now, just mindlessly and frantically pushing his body down over yours and babbling rushed, whispered phrases.
“oh god, please— please, i wan’ you, need you, need this—“
“need to feel you, need to— i j-just— ohhh— fuuhhcckkk—!”
“can i come? i can’t hold it— im not gonna hold it— can’t— stop— oh shit—! baby, i’m gonna come.. ‘m gonna— about to—!”
he spills into his boxers + his shorts, gushing thick ropes as he shudders and mouths at your neck. his jaw is nearly slack.
art’s usually one to take things slow, so this whole thing is odd, but you start to realize that he’s probably only behaving this way because he’d just lost the match you sent him off to on his own.
you don’t need him to tell you that he lost, you know now.
you hold him as he collapses, panting and gasping, and you kiss the side of his head.
“you’ll do better next time,” you whisper to him.
he won’t.
552 notes
·
View notes
it's the young lady in my icon again!! It's Chrysanthemum. I wanted to update her outfit to have it look more like clothes someone raised by a human would choose, because she never actually met another person of her species until she was a young adult. She also likes sewing and embroidery, and has been making/modifying her own clothes for a long time (out of necessity and also for fun), so her little top and the long, flowy part of her headdress (and her pants in the second sketch) have decorative flourishes.
Pata in the second sketch has lived away from his homeland and in a more multicultural area for a few years, so his actual everyday clothes also somewhat resemble the clothes worn by humans and other sorts of people-- but here he's dressed in a traditional outfit to show both the fashion contrast and height/build contrast between Chrysanthemum and an average adult of her species.
1K notes
·
View notes
dry bones bowser giving a piranha plant bouquet to balloon world luigi disguised as a mummy/ chincho
luigi was doing balloon world stuff when he gets called for another haunted mansion mission
note: luigi is alive in this, bowser's the undead one
luigi: eh? for-a luigi?
dry bowser: /nods enthusiastically/
bowuigi halloween event
prompt mix:
undead
haunted house
943 notes
·
View notes
remus/nagini
imagine a disheveled and dehumanised woman with fake high society values and aesthetics meeting a beat up, mourning and over educated long limbed man. they are outcast for outcast, beastly in a tasteless way.
now imagine they meet in the liminal space after they’ve lost their lovers. nagini carries her masters soul with her and remus carries sirius’ guilt. they are untethered and unruly. unwashed hair, empty stomachs and uncleaned rooms. the people who accepted them for their monstrousness are gone and they are wild again.
they live sporadically together in remus’ dilapidated berlin apartment. nagini stays with the carrows in their wind swept seaside cottage and in the lestrange manor on the the dust coated floor of the attic.
nagini was purposely never given a formal education to keep her “animalistic” and remus is an overeducated aspiring teacher. they sit at his tea stained, chipped table learning basic charms and muggle east asian history together. nagini makes perfect tea and buys him ornamental coasters to drink on while studying.
they sit together in his cracked bath in lukewarm yellow water together for hours. nagini shampoos his hair and laughs when he shakes his head like a dog.
there’s something so simple to their love. they are similar and accepted in a way they never have been before. all the love they give to each other is a gift and they know it. it’s rare to be seen and loved when your soulmates has left you but here they are! demure, vicious beasts sitting side by side eating unbuttered toast.
66 notes
·
View notes
I went to my first fiber festival this past weekend! Hoosier Hills Fiber Festival; if I'm still in this state come June next year, I'll probably be back and would love to meet anybody else there. Socializing/hanging out/talking to people without feeling like I was obstructing Real Customers was the one thing I missed, though I didn't really get to any of the free lectures so maybe that's where I could've met some people. Since it was an unknown situation with a lot of people and nearly an hour drive each way, I strategized to make sure I'd go:
First day, I signed up for a couple volunteer shifts. Absolutely a recommended strategy.
Got to be helpful!
They happened to have goodie bags, to help me justify the gas and time (I now have a nice tape measure to replace the one that's been vacationing with a missing sewing kit for a couple years and a lasercut wood two-inch gauge window that might help me with consistency versus my suboptimal practice of just trying to knit perfect squares when swatching in pattern)
I got to learn things about the layout and schedule I wouldn't know to ask when answering questions and acting as a gofer -- especially true working two different locations
And of course, some people were pretty much guaranteed to be happy to see me!
Second day, I signed up for a workshop in the morning so I'd be there and able to shop for anything I needed at the end. Ombre yarn dyeing was the class! It's acid dyes, something I'm several years off from wanting to get into enough to commit to dedicated cookware, full pots of dye powder, etc. The room with the workshop was a barn that had plenty of outlets--but they did not represent plenty of breakers. So there weren't quite enough functional heating elements for the class to have sufficiently cooked our yarn before leaving, and I did need to risk a giant stock pot at home for three batches of four jars, almost-simmering in a water bath for thirty minutes each, of the yarn that hadn't proven it was done (all but the two palest greens). I was a little worried the delay/drawn out heat situation would affect the results but if it did it wasn't much; I got pretty much exactly what I was hoping for with my two color gradient and the single is great too!
The single dye gradient is the color Moss, which did some interesting things with the red portion separating out once they were heated. Every skein has redder blotches, so I'm not bothered about any inconsistency -- if anything it'll help my finished product camouflage stains. Though it was definitely a surprise for me and the other Moss user in the class when our first yarn to have exhausted the dye was the complementary color to what it went in as.
The two color gradient used Rhodamine Red on one end, which was one end of one of our instructor's samples where she chose a cool-green for the other end to show how multi-component dyes mix less predictably than most paint. (It was kinda like shading with markers where you can still see washes of the pink and green in what you squint at and call a grey-brown.) The other end was Cantaloupe, which was one of the maybe three colors she didn't have a sample cut of yarn for. But she described it as the flesh of a perfect ripe cantaloupe and obviously I had to see that, and it sounded like it would be fairly guaranteed to combine nicely with the magenta while being just enough around a bend in the color wheel to be interesting--warm orange versus cool pink. As I said, it turned out pretty much exactly as I was picturing. Not anticipated was how much the jars looked like they were full of some delicious dragonfruit-mango beverage. Were I still a barista I'd be trying to recreate this for my shift drink.
Image descriptions under the cut.
[ID: Five images following fourteen small skeins of sock yarn dyed in individual glass jars, in two gradients. One gradient is six skeins from a medium forest green through a pale creamy pink, the other is eight skeins from a vibrant yellow orange through an even more vibrant magenta. The first photo is inside under fluorescent lights, showing the 32oz glass canning jars with metal lids and rings, full of dye and yarn on a table at the end of the class in which they were filled and heated for a short time.
The next two images are animated gifs. The first gif is two frames showing the finished dye jars sitting in grass, with their yarn and with it removed. The green gradient left only transparent blue color in its jars, and most of the pink to orange gradient's water looks more orange without its yarn, aside from the third and fourth jars from the orange end, which shade toward a neon lilac with the peachy pink yarn removed. The second gif is a view of the inside of the bright green wash bucket, with just the pink-orange yarn in it, then all of them mixed up, all as they were after a soak with the rust-brown water, in the first rinse, and that rinse water alone showing its transparent but still brown tint.
The last two photos show the gradients lined up along a weathered wooden bench on the side of a deck. The first photo has the wet piles of yarn bundled in front of each of their respective jars with remaining dye. The final photo has the clean, dry yarn wound into center-pull balls and still vibrant in the direct sunlight. End ID]
75 notes
·
View notes