#dust myself off

[huewrite]

And the winners were....

Not me.

I all seriousness at the bottom I'll have the link to the winners so y'all can check them out if you like.

So... what is next you might be asking?

...look at that face? You think Enoki gonna let me quit or give up?

Nah. Ze's gonna let me have a cry (cause losing is always sad, and we are allowed our feelings), help me up, and we move forward.

Namely

Y'all.

I got 8 books planned.

And we have the content for book one done.

And I have trapp- er... married an artist.

So we are gonna make this into a e-book and a physical book.

We are gonna publish Enoki as a YA.

And if you think I'm not hounding library review journals and bookstores and the like?

Trust me. I'm going for it.

Meantime. Go enjoy the things.

(like my story)

[hinamie]

playing around w slightly different hair renders

[butch-with-a-deep-voice]

"I just don't want you to feel like I'm objectifying you"

Objectify me. Do it. I want to be your trophy butch. A gorgeous piece of well-tended art for you and you alone. I preen myself for you. I pick out my outfits based on what I think will please you most. I live for sheer lustful hunger in your eyes. You want me to flex my arms for you? How long? You want to watch me get sweaty as I do chores? I'll add a couple more to my list for the day so you can see me do more. You like how that black t-shirt fits on me? I'm buying 6 more of them so I have one for every day of the week. I belong to you, darlin'. So go ahead, objectify me. Devour me. I'll keep coming back for more.

[brokenarrws]

.

[zahra-hydris]

Catching himself, Heinrix clears his throat and takes a step back, breaking eye contact. His usual impassive expression returns. "Thank you, Rogue Trader. I see no reason to detain you any longer."

[ghost-proofbaby]

okay no but bbf!perv!eddie unable to stop his hand from lingering a liiiitttle too long on your skin after he slaps the tattoo. obv he cant do anything too rough (although he would give anything to just be able to dig his fingers in to the soft skin there), but that's almost WORSE because instead you're aware of every one of his fingers on your overly sensitive skin, the warmth of his palm against your stinging ass, both soothing and burning at the same time

he doesn't even realise he's doing it, and you peek over your shoulder and nearly get a jumpscare at just how intense he looks - eyes fixed on where he's touching you, the boy is practically vibrating from holding himself back

HELPPPPPP

he should probably pull away.

he knows he should. he’s well aware his touch has long out-lingered its welcome on your warm skin. but he can’t. he tells his hand to drop, to come back to him, to just fall anywhere else but your ass — all his fingers do in response are curl into the flesh, feeling the soft muscle beneath his joints and his breath catch painfully between his ribs.

all he can do is squeeze softly and stare at where his skin is meeting yours. all he can do is continue to take abnormally deep breaths, teetering on the verge of gasping as his stare starts to burn hotter than where he’d slapped your skin.

“e-eddie?”

you’re all nervous laughter and wide eyes, and it almost makes it worse when you stutter out his name. somewhere between a plea and a sigh, falling between the raveens of asking him to stop touching you and begging him to never stop.

“sorry,” he whispers, but his hand doesn’t move.

“can you…” can you move your hand? can you stop driving me insane? can you stop looking at me like some helpless prey and igniting this damned warmth in my belly that is 10 seconds from turning this entire friendship to ash? “can you do it again?”

eddie munson’s heart officially stops. the last and hardest beat of it echoes in his silent chest and he’s looking up at you wildly, stunned, quietly. for the first time since he’s met you, his tongue has become a foreign and heavy object not fit for his instruction.

and you take his silence as a no. you take his silence as you pushing too far and projecting one too many fantasie onto him for a final time. you take his lack of response as a you just fucked everything up, idiot.

“i’m- fuck, i’m sorry,” you start, “forget i ask-“

“again?”

his hand finally moves, and it’s trailing down now, fingers dancing along the back of your thigh in unsure movements. not ready to no longer feel you. not ready to leave the moment.

piqued interest, palpable curiosity, buzzing eagerness — there’s not one sliver of disgust in his tone.

it’s the only reason you’re brave enough to wear a fragile smile as you nod, cheek lowering to the pillow as you say it more surely this time, “again.”

this time, the slap is more deliberate.

and this time, it lands where you want it. between the apex of your thighs, stinging in a way far more pleasurable than before, making you cry out a bit more surely this time.

maybe it’s his sudden smirk. maybe it’s his dark eyes. or maybe it’s that goddamn tent in his pants and the wet spot he can’t hide from you.

yeah. he’ll do it again. he’ll do it as many times as you ask for it, because this time, he gets it.

you both get it.

[peachcastiel]

come on america, castiel didn't get sent to turbo hell just to lose the 2024 election

[angel-syzygy]

angel dust: *wanting to pierce own nose*

husk: no. as your partner, i’m supposed to stop you from making bad decisions

angel dust: …yeahhhh but i ain’t that good at listening to ya

husk: but if i say the right words…

angel dust: *smirking* oh yeah, baby ? and what exactly are the “right words” ?

husk: i won’t be able to kiss your nose

angel dust: *caught off-guard* i— oh. yeah. those are the right words

[bibi-cha]

I don’t have any proper valentines day art, just take this valentine

[shroudkeeper]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒚𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒎

[xenomorphicdna]

On the string propaganda

Heeellll yeah

Bestie is an entire PLACE

I look at those guys and let me tell you the soul of that thing ain't just in the puppet, it's in all the neurons carrying the thoughts and emotions, it's in the power rails that serve as the heart. All the memories in the memory conflux and all the numbers we see flicker across displays, the flux condensers, the puppet; a little avatar.

No way these massive machines see life the same way we do. They have their own experiences and senses and things they hold dear. A world we can't imagine, a way of living we couldn't even comprehend.

I could never tear an iterator apart to be just a puppet. Who am I to decide how's life supposed to be enjoyed or perceived?

You treat your creechurs however you want- I ain't gonna dictate that. But damn, hearing the thrums and buzzes of the linear systems rail? They are alive with so much power, these mechanical beasts are exactly what they should be.

[kakavashka]

Haven't drawn much at all this past year. And haven't drawn this pouty lil creature in MANY years. SNK Phase 2.0 hitting me like a truck lmfao. Take this rusty ass Levi doodle 💁🏻

[tomboyyyaoi]

the love story of me + my beef with this show

[adverbialstarlight]

this came to me in a dream after every single time mut has barked in love sea so far I don't have any defense for myself

[contagious-watermelon]

there's something to be said for the fact that it's so much easier to accept yourself as asexual than as aromantic. when you realize you might be asexual, you have to contend with a giant shrinking of your dating pool, and the realization that you won't be able to have kids the way people want you to. but you — or, I at sixteen — can take comfort in the knowledge that you'll still be able to find love — that thing which we've been told since practically birth that will be the purpose of our life, basically. get a nuclear family, have kids, fall in love. people who are single spend their whole time complaining about it, wishing they had a partner. someone dying alone is the worst thing that can happen to a person. if you're not dating someone, you're alone.

and the alloace (or someone who thinks they are, at least) clings as tightly as they can to the insistence that we can still love — because to deny that would be to doom yourself to forever be alone, unable to find a place in our society. the reason i think that so many aroace people realize their asexuality before their aromanticism is because of exactly this, that asexuality can still be somewhat (with much effort) slotted in to romantic society. aromanticism cannot, and every aro person has to contend with that when they discover their sexuality. (at least, i did.)

a lot of people in the aro community are trying to do the same as the ace community has, to hang onto "we can still love" with the skin of their teeth. to insist that it's still possible to aro people to date — for that way they'll have some way of still fitting in. this, in my opinion, is why qprs have so proliferated throughout the aro community specifically; so much so that being aro, you're assumed to want a qpr as much as an alloromantic person would want a romantic partner. it's a fear of reckoning with what your place your sexuality puts you in wrt society, of facing the fact that you will be forever alone. because, if you spend your whole life being told that a bachelor, a spinster, a crazy cat lady is the worst thing that could happen to you, when you realize you're not going to ever fall in love? you don't want to accept that perhaps they were wrong, that perhaps you can live a completely fulfilling life without having to replace romance with anything at all, be it friendship or a qpr or anything else.

[strawberrystepmom]

Venus as a boy Geto edit on my fyp rn -100000 hp