#for being you ig

[vinnystarxx]

Guessed who cried for the past 15+ minutes over the final AOT

Currently fanning myself cuz I can’t take it anymore. I been got manga spoilers about this but like it’s so more emotional animated

[toodrunktofindaurl]

she heard the news

[cyberpchela]

tw/cw blood and meat! preparing morning breakfast

[lotus-pear]

charm stat at debonair ‼️‼️

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

My Great Grandma who loved her babies very much

Reference that I used for the face!

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[fiftypiercings]

I can't believe I decided to read orv on a whim because I just wanted a good manhwa with no romance subplot and here I am knees deep into the novel questioning my whole life because whatever these mfs have got going on is much more nastier and visceral than any romance.

[soranker]

DEEP💥SPACE💥PLANET💥FUTURE💥GUN💥ACTION❗️

[hajihiko]

💕

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[bunnieswithknives]

Thanks.

Prev

[anxi04]

steph and babs don’t need personas, as far as anyone is concerned they’re just family friends.

bruce has his “brucie wayne” persona, very clumsy, playboy, kinda air headed but still very smart and wants to do good for gotham. which of course makes him seem naive cause good?? for gotham??

dick has “richie grayson-wayne” who’s dabbled in modeling before becoming a gymnastics teacher. also very vocal about his “adorable little siblings”

jason never really had a “nickname” after all he was from crime alley and he had to look GOOD for them or else they’d go back to “he’s just like the rest of them”. his persona was very empathetic and kind though, which worked great for him since that’s how he was like. he always talked about doing several non profit charities. the elites switched their opinions of him on a dime, although the rest of gotham adored him.

damian refuses to go by a nickname. his persona is based around animals, mostly about abandoned animals. it’s very clear his goal for the future is to make good animal shelters and help every animal he can. it’s the only persona he could stomach and there were SEVERAL other ideas

cass is “cass wayne” very quiet, polite, generally just there in the background. normally hanging around one of her siblings, most often tim. although her being around him unnerves some of them, she’ll get a look in her face and then her and tim both know they were lying. they fully get why she hangs around tim

duke is regularly seen as the normal one. pleasant to be around, kind, but generally also just there. very normal student, not really sure what he’s gonna do. the elites don’t particularly for him, though the rest of gotham love him.

tim’s persona differs from the rest pretty heavily. he can’t get away with being like bruce, the elites vividly remember janet and see her in him very often, which vaguely scares them if they’ll be honest. he’ll act like “Tim Drake-Wayne” to unsettle them, after all he’s a Drake why is he acting clumsy? they’ve seen him when he was younger and he was the spitting image of perfect. it makes more sense to them when he trips and lands right where he can tell them something no one else can hear. “Timothy Drake” is what scares them though. the tim that casually whispers secrets no one else knows, who points out someone they’re supposed to have a “private meeting with” in a week. who has nearly cause several of them to go broke with such simple actions, and the only reason they didn’t was cause he let them stay rich. there was one elite who insulted damian near tim and suddenly said elite had to get an apartment in crime alley, pay his now ex-wife, a kid he had with some random person, and several debts

the fact that lex luther and tim are some kind of friends also doesn’t make them feel super great but that’s another issue

[beiibeiii]

under your spell

vampire!arlecchino x f!reader wlw smut

cw : smut, reader gets drunk and passes out lol, dream manipulation, arlecchino eats you out like theres no tomorrow, reader gets dizzy from lack of blood, arle is a little possessive, kinda non-consensual..

halloween special, apart of @edgeray halloween event :)

guess whos back lol, sorry if my quality of writing has gone down a bit, i haven't written properly in a while, not really proofread

art creds: vyphorium on X

it was finally the night of halloween. students from all over the campus had been invited to this halloween party. you knew arlecchino was never fond of parties, and was usually busy anyways, but when you said you were going, suddenly her scehdule cleared and she was interested in going.

arlecchino and you both shared a dorm so you met up in front of the front door. arlecchino stands around a head taller than you, making you raise your head to look up at her, making eye contact. god, she looked so dangerous yet so, so enticing. she was 'dressed' as a vampire. wearing a beautiful white ruffle blouse with ruffled sleeves, a elegant black, patterned waistcoat, along with black slacks and leather boots. she wore a long, silver cross necklace, a pretty dark red rose on her chest with blood stained down her shirt.

"beautiful, as always." she mutters under her breath. you catch a glimpse of her sharp fangs, glimmering under the dim light. you feel her red, crossed pupils glow in the light as her eyes peer all over, up and down, your body. your dressed in a beautiful, backless, black lacey dress, ending halfway down your thighs. the black lace makes your skin slightly visible. god, the way your dress clung onto your body outlined your beautiful waist so perfectly. your wearing cute, fluffy black cat ears that sit on the top of your head along with ankle high boots and a black collar to complete the outfit.

you smile sweetly at her, feeling heat run up your cheeks.. you feel all shy and nervous at her remark. were you always so nervous around your own roommate? "you look so handsome." you compliment her sweetly. your mouth curls up into a cute smile. arlecchino returns the favour, smiling back at you, her fangs fully visible now. they looked so real, but you knew they were fake fangs though, right?

"lets get going then." she muses lowly. arlecchino walks you with a hand around your waist, protectively, to the dorm where the party had been set. she knocks on the door firmly. it isn't long before the door is opened up quickly. there were crowds of people, dressed up, everywhere. arlecchino's eyes scan over the surroundings, taking in the sight of the chaotic looking party. she doesnt seem enthusiastic about being here, at all. she would never admit it, but she just wanted to come to keep you close.

before you knew it, tartaglia spotted you two in the doorway, hauling you and arlecchino into the crowd of people immediately. the three of you meet up with signora and scaramouche. you are all around a small table, drinking and taking shots, having conversations and laughing together.

there were lots of eyes on you and arlecchino knew it. she could see how they'd look at your lips and your body. the way your dress looked on you wasn't helping too. fuck, arlecchino would rip their necks off right now if she could. you were just so, so oblivious to even notice them eye fucking you. occasionally arlecchino would glance at you in the corner of her eyes, keeping a close eye on you if you strayed too far.

you'd watch arlecchino skip out on vodka and beer, deciding to go for.. a dark red wine? almost like blood. it looked quite thick, it's lightly stain the glass and her lips too. a contrast to her pale skin, making her look more like an vampire. arlecchino didn't seem to be getting drunk at all, she did have high alcohol tolerance after all. ah.. your thinking too much about it, maybe it was the alcohol getting to your head.

tartaglia starts slurring out recent gossip on campus. how, for the past 2 weeks, it was rumoured that vampires going around, sucking students blood at night and leaving marks as evidence. signora scoffs, rolling her eyes, stating how it was probably their classmates pranking each other. arlecchino grimaces slightly at his words, her 'faux' fangs showing again. they looked so real.. but there was no way arlecchino was a vampire.. right?

it wasn't long before you started getting drunk, your mind started spinning and all sounds started getting distorted. your words would slur and you'd sway to the left and right in your seat. getting all mumbly and sloppy with your movements. arlecchino lets out a light, breathy sigh at your state, wrapping her arm around your hip, once more, firmly.

"do you think vampires are real too, arle..?" you lazily slur, your half lidded eyes gazing up into her piercing ones.

god, you were just adorable. the way blood rushed to your cheeks made arlecchino go absolutely crazy. she couldn't hold her temptations back and longer. the only thing running through her mind was imagining how your blood would taste, how it'd run down her lips and drip onto her tongue..

a eyebrow cocks up at your question. her eyes narrow lightly as she leans in closer to you. mumbling into your ear, so your intoxicated self could hear her over the music. "what makes you think vampires aren't real, my dear?" arlecchino's tone is dangerous, almost inviting. her fangs graze over your ear lightly. the faint sharpness makes flinch slightly, pulling away a little as you push her face away from you.

"stop trying to tease me.." you whine, your words slurring. arlecchino sits up properly, chuckling lowly to herself.

"i think you've had enough to drink for tonight, it's getting late. we should head back." arlecchino states, her sharp gaze on you. her words dripping with caution. she needed you, now. you sloppily nod at her words, saying goodbye to everyone as she hauls you out the crowded party, keeping you close to her, with a hint possessiveness.

the door to your dorms was opened, arlecchino helps you in, taking you into your room and setting you down on the bed. you'd already passed on the short walk down the hallway to your dorms. your hair was fanned out across the bed. your cheeks were lightly dusted red from the alcohol consumed. your eyelids were shut with your soft, plump lips slightly parted. you looked so peaceful. so.. so fucking vulnerable.

she couldn't hold back her desires any longer. arlecchino shuts the door, the room being thrown into darkness. She walks over to the bed, looking down at your limp body. her eyes fixated on your neck, her fangs aching and her mouth watering at the sight. itching to get a taste of your sweet, delicate blood.

her fangs sink into your skin, draining your blood. she savours the first few drops of blood that she's able to pull from you. her eyes flutter closed as she hums against your neck. god you tasted so good, never had she had such.. divine blood like this on her tongue. she feels your head turn to the side, letting out a small whimper in your sleep. you must be having a good dream, right? she pulls away momentarily, admiring her work.

her eyes stay fixed on your neck now as the blood slowly trickles from the wound. the wound allures her, as if its asking for more. she leans in for more, making sure she doesn't wake you up. her tongue laps up at the wound on the side of your neck. the feeling of being able to taste you again made her feel dizzy with ecstasy. you were just so blissfully unaware, it turned her on so much more. her tongue brushes against the wound to stop any of it from spilling out. giving it one last long lick as blood stains her lips. she lifts her head to kiss you on the lips passionately.

your soft lips meet her blood-stained ones. arlecchino could hear your little sleepy hums against her lips. at the same time, arlecchino enters your dreams, manipulating it like vampires do.

your eyes fluttered open.. you felt so dazed. was this a dream? was arlecchino kissing you..? your neck aches though, you feel warm liquid drip down to your collarbone. you felt so dizzy from the alcohol in your system and from blood being drained from your neck. you didn't have the energy to move, what was happening?

you feel as she pulls away from the kiss. tasting your bitter, metallic blood. she sees how dazed and dazed you looked, it drives her crazy. her eyebrows pinched together as she starts to take your dress off. her movements firm, but not rough. her gaze was sharp and alluring.

"stay still for me. let me take care of everything." arlecchino mutters lowly, sliding your dress over your head.

you feel as if something controlled your mind. you stay still as she asked, you didn't resist her at all. she unclasps your bra, sliding it off to the side, your beautiful tits on for show, just for her. she sucks in a breath, her blood stained fangs visible between her lips. arlecchino leaves your cat ears on, thinking you look more adorable and vulnerable all for her.

she grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing them lightly. she wondered how your tits would taste too. you let out a soft moan. your head whips to the side. god you were so overwhelmed, all your senses heightened right now. she continues to fondle with your tits as she mutters under her breath.

"fuck.. so pretty for me."

her other hand dips down into your underwear, feeling your slick pool up underneath. you were so wet already. arlecchino lightly rubs on your clit, testing your sensitivity. you let out a whimper at her actions, your eyes fluttering closed. she rubs more firmly as her other hand leaves your tit and pulls your panties down. they're thrown off somewhere on the floor as she lowers herself. you cunt slicked up all for her. she couldn't wait to just eat you up.

you feel so desperate, so dizzy with pleasure. your hands find her way to her head, burying your fingers in her soft hair.

"hurry.." you whisper out softly, peering down at her with your voice hoarse. arlecchino knows better than to keep you waiting. she spits on your cut, making your breath hitch, before diving in immediately. allowing you to tug on her hair.

her tongue fucks your dripping cunt, savouring your delicious slick. god your warm walls felt so good against her tongue. your eyes roll back in pleasure, fuck she was so good. you moan loudly, your vision blurring, out of overstimulation.

arlecchino's hands keep your thighs open. she laps at your cunt like its the last thing she'd eat. absolutely devouring you. you nudge her deeper into your pussy, her nose bumps at your clit every so often. she was so messy. arlecchino would suck and slurp loudly, the filthy noises filing the room up. she keeps eye contact with you throughout the whole way. she mumbles against your wet cunt, made vibrations, making your thighs close around her head.

arlecchino eats you out with more fervour, absolutely devouring you. you feel that coil in your stomach start to form. your tugs on her hair and your moans drive her on more than anything. you were just so sensitive. you could barely get your words out.

"c-close..! mm..mpff..!" you moan out loudly.

your orgasmed hard all over her face, squirted your cum on her face. your thighs wrapped around her face. she laps your essence up like a dog, before pulling away with a smirk, her chin dripping with your cum. you go limp, trying to catch your breath. your eyebrows are furrowed and your eyes are squeezed shut. you feel so dizzy, so fucking high. she leans into your neck. licking the blood that had run down from your wound. humming lowly in satisfaction. her hardness poking into your thigh.

"brace yourself.. i still need to savour your taste.."

[userjiminie]

jiminie got his wish, after all ♡ inspo. | interview | AYS cr. ouranxingg

[999999999inadream]

toby fox needs to add like a bit of narration in deltarune abt kris like "they themmed they/themily down the stheirs" cus i cant go on seeing them constantly get he/himmed in yt comment sections

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.