#froggy and her sister

[grimgrinningghost456]

Dog ears for u, fam

[myotp-ruinedmylife]

one of my favorite genres of character is "little girls are already completely terrifying. but what if..."

[femmeetart]

"someone pls make fan art of this face/moment but shes sitting on a lily pad criss cross applesauce pls this is so integral to my mental health"

[pensiveant]

The blessed 1-2 hours of peace and quiet after serving the girls dinner 😮‍💨

[toestalucia]

ok bnha event talk<3

Siegfried: I'll take care of things here. Captain, you go help the boy. Before Siegfried can finish his sentence, captain sprints to the boy's aid.

captain my captain....but also 1) captain jumping off a cliff Again 2) deku doing the same jkabskbkjasd vyrn later going 'well thats our captain, but why did U do it kid' LIKEEEEE

Vyrn: So, about that… Hmm, let me explain what might've happened to you as simply as I can. Deku, Bakugo… You two have somehow been transported from your world to ours. Izuku Midoriya: What? I knew something was off when I fell from the cliff and saw nothing but the sky below me. I can't believe we're in a different world… Vyrn: Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much. Things like this just happen sometimes.

rly do like that in the past couple collabs theyre like yah....this happens...anyway

Vyrn: Yeah! Whaddya say, captain? You're not just gonna leave these boys to fend for themselves, are ya? Captain: I guess they can tag along. Izuku Midoriya: Ahaha, sorry for putting you out… Katsuki Bakugo: Tch! Did you already forget who saved both of your sorry asses back there? Vyrn: Haha… Captain's just joking! Our captain's really caring, I promise!

exchanges that were made for me. i lov whenever captains like "uh well ig u can come:/" cuz its always so funny. more of this

Captain: Everything will be all right. Vyrn: Yeah, tomorrow we'll take you back to captain's ship. We've got plenty of comrades there, and they're all super friendly! Well, for the most part… Save for a few reformed baddies and, uh… a few really bad eggs.

KJADBJKAD KNOWING LOBELIAS IN THE EVENT TOOOO especially since theyre always 'lobelia are u doing something weird>:( oh nier and haase<3 yes ud nvr do something bad we know<3' when its nier & haase thats lying through their teeth. hilarious stuff. but also i do like these kinda dialogues cuz its. thats. thats just what it is on the crew

also lobelias part, with toga mentioning captain smells like blood. stares at that one msq scene at the justice island. aauughhhh........but also cuz captains smell of blood is likely soo heavily /their own/. guy who died once. guy whos constantly close to dying.

Misiah of Despair: You're right. There's no meaning to the life of a primal unable to fulfill their purpose… Only suffering.

fenrir dot png

[ace-frog]

All my old fixations are coming to hit me with a bat

[bambiilooza]

my 2 year old sister is obsessed with the perimedes song. she does jay's dance moves whenever we watch it lol. it's so fucking cute dhjHKFKSH

she calls him peri-peri. i agree with the nickname cuz perimedes is very yummy

she's also obsessed with little froggie on the window. she sings that with her kermit plush

she also loves watching gigi's ruthlessness animatic. cuz of 'angry grandpa.' honestly girl same. i also like the angry grandpa

[chloeangelic]

the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year. 

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile. 

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then. 

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town. 

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back. 

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.” 

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.  

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment. 

“Salesman of the year?” 

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours. 

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?” 

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.” 

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone. 

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…” 

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?” 

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?” 

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.” 

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt. 

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door. 

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror. 

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door. 

“And that’s my room.” 

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed. 

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk. 

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes. 

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you. 

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button. 

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp. 

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties. 

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him. 

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him. 

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up. 

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.” 

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick. 

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening. 

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach. 

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door. 

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax. 

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips. 

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread. 

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.” 

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist. 

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night. 

“More than just sex.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”. 

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.” 

“Sure… In a bit.”

[luvkirby4ever]

Absolutely massive lore drops from Shadow Generations

Gerald Robotnik had 2 sons (which we have a picture of!!) whom he loved very much. One of them had Gerald's love of archaeology, the other his love of robotics.

The archaeology son is the one who initially discovered Emerl.

Gerald had found Angel Island and the altar of the Master Emerald but left things alone because he wanted to be respectful to the land.

^This explains why the Eclipse Cannon's core has a structure shaped like the shrine in SA2.

SPEAKING OF SA2... you know those cameos of Big the Cat in (the Dreamcast version of) SA2? Yeah, those are canon. Apparently he loses Froggy a lot which causes him to go on a ton of adventures. He even tells Shadow that he saw him running past a few times on the ARK.

Gerald was absolutely adamant about his research being used to help people, not develop weapons. He seems to have been constantly clashing heads with GUN who would not fund his research (which was to try and cure Maria) unless he was making weapons.

^Because of this, any weapons he developed (or in Emerl's case, studied) had some sort of counterbalance that Gerald would add in order to make the weapon suck less (see following couple of points).

He hoped that the technology that he developed to make Artificial Chaos (AI that can be added to any body of water to shape it as needed) would be used to help save flood victims by scooping them up out of the debris.

While studying Emerl he established a link and noted that since Emerl wouldn't listen to anybody else that at least he wouldn't be used for evil. He also attempted to change Emerl's AI to become "free-willed and emotions-based."

He didn't want to develop the Eclipse Cannon so it was purposely made to be too destructive to be useful. He figured he'd also use it to deal with Black Doom.

Project Shadow was named as such because Gerald thought the goverment were idiots for trying to make him pursue something as impossible as immortality. He saw it "as intangible as a shadow" and described the project as impossible as "chasing a shadow."

But when Maria saw Shadow she said "shadows let you know which way the light is" and Gerald remarked that she turned his bitter naming convention into something hopeful and pure.

Speaking of Project Shadow... we have a picture of Maria holding the little baby Biolizard!

Gerald developed the Chaos Drives (those things that come out of GUN robots that you feed your Chao in SA2) to try and apply Chaos Emerald energy to living tissue without damaging it. He used them on the Biolizard.

Gerald reluctantly provided GUN Chaos Drives so that he could continue researching a cure for Maria.

Maria loved the Biolizard.

The Biolizard grew large because of the experiments... which its body couldn't support. Thus the life-support apparatus on its back, though it seemed to be in great physical pain. It was hidden away in the area you fight it in SA2.

^These failures are why Gerald struck up a deal with Black Doom. Without Doom's DNA Shadow would have gone the same way as the Biolizard.

Maria has a little sister!!!

Maria was born on Earth and sent to the ARK because the low-gravity environment makes her condition more manageable. Gerald's journal makes it sound like Maria's sister was born after she got up there but in-game Maria mentions how she misses her sister so maybe not?

@nagichi-boop (I hope it's okay to tag you) has a nice post talking about the excellent "invisible disability" representation. Both Gerald's journal and Maria discuss aspects of her disability, including Gerald's anger the over ARK researchers who talk about Maria behind her back.

Maria helped develop Shadow's air shoes and inhibitor rings, her insight valuable as these are framed as disability aids.

If Shadow takes off the inhibitor rings, he'd probably explode.

Maria and Shadow were taught by a lady teacher aboard the ARK. Shadow never turned in his homework.

The only thing Maria ever saw Shadow consume was coffee.

Maria met Big in the white space and instantly loved him. Big asked Maria and Gerald if they wanted to go fishing.

Omega is not powered by Animals, Chaos Drives, or any Emerald-based mechanism. He mentions something about absorbing environmental energy or something? The takeaway is that he's probably not destined to end up like most robots in the series (dead) because he doesn't have a power source that's going to screw him over.

E-123 "I don't have emotions" Omega was worried about Rogue and values Shadow and Rogue's friendship. Just don't call it friendship.

Maria being up on the ARK for so long was causing strain and division between Gerald and his sons. Gerald was desperate to cure Maria and get his family back.

Big has met Elise.

Commander Tower was the only other kid aboard the ARK.

Gerald gave Shadow some pre-set memories so that his awakening would go smoothly. Maria and him became friends instantly.

According to Maria, Shadow is more confident now than when she knew him.

Gerald called Shadow son. I'm not crying you are.

Both in the journal and in-game Gerald mentions how he is sorry for the trouble and weight that he has placed on Shadow (because of needing to strike a deal with Black Doom).

Emerl was handed over to GUN to try and buy more time for Maria's research. GUN reestablished a link by showing him an increasingly dangerous amount of weapons until Emerl started to freak out and destroy stuff. One of his rampages caused an automatic SOS ping to be sent out...

...It was that ping that summoned the soldiers who killed Maria.

[omaano]

SW Hades AU June Update

Other monthly updates: May - June - July - August

This month I’ve had some time to organize my notes and plans for my Star Wars meets Hades AU - I have a massive table for all of the characters, which original Hades game character they had been modeled after, and whether they need portraits/tokens/keepsakes/crests/etc. it’s colour coded and everything. (Fennec had to be cut out from the lineup and I’m hopelessly heartbroken about the whole thing* 😭)

Everyone has an icon who needs one (I’m sorry about the Echo and Fives one, okay? But they come as a package deal, and I also wanted to make sure that Echo is easily distinguishable from all the other clone characters and not just the average looking clone guy next to Fives who - by order of elimination - must be Echo), and everyone has a crest who needs one (except for maybe Barriss… I feel like that the Jedi order symbol doesn’t fully fit her, but for now I will keep it as a place holder. I can't come up with anything better for her at the moment T^T. The froggie returned to the “chtonic companions” line (it is exactly the plushie that Echo and Fives would give Grogu), and now there is Batcher too! If you notice any similarities between Batcher and Boba’s old rancor rag doll, it’s mostly because I took that one and modified it to fit the lurca hound, since they have a similar back ridge pattern.

I also think that it could be a cute in-universe thing if the Batcher doll had been modified from the rancor. Timelines are very flexible in this AU anyway, so it could be totally plausible.

Speaking of! I have a character sketch for Omega and Batcher!

It took me a while to settle on which version of Omega I wanted to put into this AU, but I am very happy with what I could come up with in the end. I had some trouble with what to do with her face, since Hades is really lacking in young teenage characters, and even Melinoe and Eris from Hades2 didn’t prove to be of much help, so I allowed a bit more of my own style to slip back in. With everything else I think it hit a nice enough balance. I mixed her s2 and s3 appearance into one outfit and gave her back her hat and old crossbow (I know she got a new one from Echo, but I prefer how this one sticks out over her shoulder).

This seems to be a girls’ update, since the next sketch I want to share concepts Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls! I’ve wanted to add them to this AU for ages, but all that armor and posing had just seemed too much of a hassle up until I had to seriously distract myself from some irl stress. So now I’ve got the trio to stand in for the fury sisters as first bosses. (I'll need to adjust Koska a little, I see it now)

God bless whoever’s decided to make one of those 30 cm action dolls of these guys, they had been so helpful when it came to looking up reference details! (While we are at details: I made Koska left handed (I think? Or opposite handed at the very least) because I had been coming up with their composition under the impression that she had her flame thrower in her right vambrace like Din and Boba do, which, upon further inspection, she does not ^^;)

Some in-universe thoughts regarding them: 1) Din can very much lose the Darksaber to whoever kicks his ass if he runs with is as his weapon of choice, and then has to return to reclaim it from that enemy (he doesn’t want to but they are in his way), and if he loses it either to her or another enemy Bo-Katan will most definitely have an opinion on the matter. 2) Boba is more than happy to swoop in as a “godly call” against Koska. If he has the option to claim the Call boon from Boba, it's a pretty good indicator that it will be Koska waiting for him at the end of the level. 3) After a while and enough encounters Axe starts showing up around and in the arena on this AU’s equivalent of the Elysium level. Paz would do anything not to have to talk about that minor detail. (Din: "Why does Axe Woves keep calling you baby girl?" Paz *steam escaping from the edge of his helmet* "how about we stop talking for a while." <- This meme has been on my mind for months, now you have to suffer it with me XD) After that it’s a boss fight of Din vs Paz and Axe.

This post is getting a bit long, so I will leave my progress with Obi-wan’s background to the next update. I will also make a separate post on the new little portrait icons, but I really liked how cute Rex and Omega looked next to each other in the big lineup Q^Q

*the only thing that made me dedicate myself to this decision with a heavy heart is that Fennec had been in the Bad Batch, and that would give me the ideal excuse to imagine her in a Hades2 inspired AU where she is helping Omega (as a stand in for Melinoe). I’ve thought a lot about this even before the test version of the game came out, and a lot of it would track now that I’ve seen some game play and story and characters but. Let’s not be delusional, I can barely keep up with this project, and the Hades2 art style, while super pretty, has a twist on the first game's art style that makes me want to cry when I think about replicating it ^^; so that just remains a nice little thought experiment.

Ventress went through the same thing, mostly because I think that in a strange way she would fit very well with Hecate's role. Especially after that s3 episode where she had her cameo with her new fancy haircut.

[areyoudreaminof]

The Day is Coming: Eris Week Day 2

It's Day 2 of @erisweekofficial! I really wanted to satisfy myself here and expand a bit more on Uncle Eris. His desire for a true family, the healing that has come with his young nieces, and his own reflection of his childhood. Just a short little treat. Enjoy!

Taking for granted This lifetime and what's up ahead

But the day is coming, the day is near The day is coming, the way is clear

My Morning Jacket-The Day is Coming

The boy sits with his new hounds, alone. 

The pups wriggle in his lap, around his feet. Slippery coats of smoke colored fur and pink paws. They whine and squeak as they crawl blindly across his lap and feet. He can only hold two or three at a time and their mother is exhausted, panting as she waits for more milk to come in. The boy makes sure to pet her too, to remind her she’s not alone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uncle Eris, look! This one’s opening his eyes!” 

Eris turns to the little redheaded girl who’s gently holding a blueish gray pup in her fingers. His eldest niece is right, the pup's eyes are opening. Her brown eyes are lit up with excitement. The little golden haired girl on his lap gasps with wonder. His youngest niece hasn’t helped with the pups before, and Eris delights in it all. 

“It will take him a few days to make out shapes, but he can still recognize your smell and touch.” Eris tells his nieces. Cyra, the youngest, giggles as the pup sniffs and licks her fingers. The eldest, Mathilde, softly strokes the white splash of fur between the pups' eyes. 

“They’re so sweet,” Cyra whispers, “when do they start to play?” 

“In a few days, I’d wager,” Eris says with a smile, “You both will just have to stay until then, I think.” 

The girls squeal with delight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy sits alone amongst the trees. After his lessons with Father, his hands and back sting with emerging welts. So, he escapes to the oak groves where it is quiet. The wind does not hiss insults at him, only sighs softly. When he was younger, he and his mother would take long walks around the gardens, watching leaves fall. But since his lessons began he hardly sees his mother, his father and tutors now watch his every movement. So now, he inhales what little freedom he has left. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Me and Cricket are making a leaf maze!” Cyra chirps. Eris chuckles at the nicknames his brother gave to his nieces. The rest of their families use them, but Eris loves their names just as they are. 

“Is that so? Round or square?” 

“Square!” Mathilde says as she bounces over, “Me and Froggy can get more dead ends with a square. We’re going to have Mama and Papa do it when they come to get us too.” 

“Very good.” He kisses each of them on the nose, red with crisp autumn air. “Should I help?” 

“Yes!” his nieces giggle. Eris begins to design the maze with more leaves. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy looks at the fire coming from his fingertips with terror. 

He had gotten angry at one of his brothers. They kicked him, broke a wooden post, then blamed him. He was sent to the racks for punishment and his father whipped him raw. Now, on the carpet of his room, the flames lick his skin. They do not hurt, but he can feel it. He feels the rage and anger. He feels the unrelenting fear in his blood as the fire crackles. Will his father beat him for this too? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eris opens Cyra’s small hand beneath his. Her dark golden skin almost glowing beneath his own pale hand. His youngest niece found that she could summon the Autumn flame at a very public gathering. The pride hadn’t left Eris since. He found he loved rubbing it in Helion’s face that only one of his beloved granddaughters got Day Court powers. Mathilde was disappointed at her own lack of fire, but she was happy for her sister. Lucien had the ability too, of course, but Eris had begged him to let Crya come to Autumn once a week to be trained. 

Eris would not say it aloud, but he wanted to train his own heir. 

“When you summon your flame, feel it in your fingertips. You were angry or scared, but what else did you feel?” 

Cyra wrinkles her brow, “It felt like the hounds licking at my fingertips, or when I poke myself on my needle when I quilt with Grandmother,” she shuts her eyes, tightly, “It’s under my skin sometimes. Like when my foot is asleep, or my heart’s beating fast after I go swimming. My blood feels warm too.” 

Eris nods he knows the feeling very well. “Open your eyes, dearest.” 

The Autumn Flames dances across her hand. Reds, oranges, and a deep blue burn brightly across her fingertips. Cyra stares at her flame with awe, and so does Eris. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young man spits blood out from his mouth as his father strikes him again. 

“I gave you an order and you deliberately disobeyed me. Lucien makes for Spring, and why is that?” his father sneers. 

The young man says nothing, and his father grabs the young man by the throat, forcing him to the metal rack. Heavy cuffs strap the young man’s feet down, while his father snaps chains over his wrists. He turns and grabs an instrument off the table. The young man shuts his eyes, takes a breath, and tries to will himself away before the pain comes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His brother stands before him, holding a small baby. His niece. 

Her skin is a deep golden color, tinged with pink, but the hair is unmistakable. Red as his own, the same red as her father and her grandmother. The baby’s mother smiles from her bed, Eris smiles back. 

“Her name is Mathilde,” Lucien whispers. He hands the bundle to Eris, who takes it slowly. For as many infant brothers as he’s held, this is different. 

“After mother’s sister,” Eris murmurs. The babe sleeps peacefully in his arms. Her full lips are puckered, her small pointed ears sticking out among fine red curls. He strokes her small hand that has escaped the swaddle. Mathilde opens her eyes as she grasps his finger tightly. She looks at him with russet eyes and it hits him then. He begins to sob. 

“He’s gone,” he whispers as he looks at Lucien, “He cannot touch us again. He’ll never corrupt her. She’s safe.” 

Lucien knows, of course he does. He says nothing though, just wraps his arm around Eris and sobs with him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy can feel the itch creep on his nose as he sits on the velvet chair, waiting for the artist to stop painting. He is bored and restless and his tunic itches. It is heavy with golden thread woven into leaves, while a thick, leather jerkin makes in sweat in the firelight and candelabras that populate the room. 

The old fae brushes away at his canvas, looking over spectacles and a hooked nose. He will finish a painting that resembles Eris, but makes sure to highlight the cruelty in his face, to make him resemble his lord father more. It will hang along the halls of the Forest House, collecting dust and trapping the boy for eternity in discomfort. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eris kicks his boots off as he sinks into his sofa. The fire crackles as Anais and Justinian, his oldest and most loyal hounds lay at his feet. The day with advisors and emissaries was a long one, full of squabbling and shouting. Now, Eris takes a moment to rest in his solar. 

He looks up above the fireplace where the first painting catches his eye. His nieces look out at him with mischief and laughter from the painting. Mathilde’s wild red hair is lifted as she jumps for joy, while Cyra’s dimples are visible with her smile. The leaves they’re kicking up seem to move and their own smoke hounds are caught in midair at their feet. Lucien was quite jealous that his daughters were given a smokehound. “Life’s certainly tough for you, isn’t it?” Eris had simply said. 

On another wall, portraits of the girls as infants hang. And above his desk, a painting of the three of them, in Autumn Court regalia, hangs. Eris smirks as he looks at his own smile, his nieces in each arm. Mathilde grins as if she knows a secret, while Cyra stares out with warmth in her eyes. Feyre painted all of them, of course. As their aunt, she too knew the girls and could capture their likeness in the canvas without having them pose for hours. Eris laughs at the details, because in their outfits, Feyre has painted a little creature into the threads to represent their nicknames. A cricket, for Mathilde, and a little frog for Cyra. 

Leaning his head back on the sofa, Eris closes his eyes and enjoys this moment of peace. It is Anais's grunts that bring him back. "You're right, old girl." he says, leaning down to pet her great head, "We must get some sleep, the girls are coming tomorrow." 

TAGLIST: @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @elleybug @queercontrarian @iftheshoef1tz @yanny-77 @tunaababee @pippsmcgee @separatist-apologist @fieldofdaisiies

[popcornrya]

Alligator Raph and Salamander Leo trying to help Fira find her big sister! Oh and "hop hop" (the plush frog) is coming too!

Alternate species au by @rufwooff

[dullgecko]

Some random childhood Bad kids headcanons

Riz was incredibly small, even for a goblin kit, like concerning tiny ears were so absolutely massive compared to his body. He also didn’t start walking on two legs until really late in his development.

Gorgug was taller than his parents at 2, but he was also very interested in their work and would randomly hand them tools to learn the name. He didn’t talk until he was 3 and his first word was “Tree.”

Adaine’s first word was “Aelwyn” who had been secretly coaching her to say the word. She also had a fascination with frogs from a young age, and at every chance she got, tried to look for them in puddles.

Fig didn’t trance as a kid (cus not an elf) but she didn’t say anything because she thought that this was normal. She used to try to sneak onto Baxter and get him to fly, but Baxter knew better.

Riz stunted his growth a little bit as a small child by being incredibly picky with his food. It was mostly a texture thing and even if he was starving he would refuse to eat, it brought Sklonda to tears sometimes because he was just so small and so skinny because the only thing he could keep down without gagging were basically smoothies. He still got all his vitamins though, in the form of WAY too many supplements. He forced himself to eat things he found physically gross once Pok died, mostly because he had to force himself to eat whatever they could get their hands on so it wouldnt be wasted once they went down to a single income household.

Gorgug might not have talked until he was 3 but he fully understood everyone when they were talking to him. He wasnt dumb, just quiet, and once he said his first word he was saying full sentences the same day. Wilma and Digby had to excuse themselves from the room a couple times because they were crying in releif and didnt want to freak him out.

Adaine was also a fairly quiet child but it was mostly because her parents were horrible and neglectful and didnt talk to her very often. Aelwyn did, because as small children they got along fairly well, and used to take her outside when it was raining to look for frogs in their garden. Adaine splashing in the puddles wearing her froggy raincoat while her big sister held her hand.

Fig, when she was small, once asked her mum why she tranced so much longer than the other elves she knew. Everyone else only needed four hours but she always felt awful unless she got eight. Her mum just told her that sometimes people need more and it was totally normal and changed the topic. Fig totally beleived her right up until her horns started coming in and she realised that oh, actually, i wasnt trancing i was just straight up sleeping this whole time.

[blitz-horsie-enthusiast]

𝐈’𝐦 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐈.𝐌.𝐏

(This was inspired by @king--of--ducks, so go check him out!)

I’m Blitzø, the o is silent, I was originally just going to use this website just to get more clients, but Stolas convinced me to also use it for other things. I have no idea what he meant by other things so, just ask me shit or something I guess?

I have a wonderful daughter named Loona who is ✨ my baby✨ and yes I do know she was technically almost 18 when I adopted her, but it still counts!

Speaking of my wonderful daughter! Go check her out! @moonnighthowling666

But I swear if you fucking hurt her I will find you and I will drive a bullet straight through your head :)

I ALSO HAVE A HORSE AND A ROBOTIC HORSE NOW! THEIR NAMES ARE BANANA PUDDING AND PRETZEL

If you hurt her or try to take her away from me you won’t see another fucking sunrise, this is no empty threat

OOC:I have no association with Vivziepop or her characters, this is just a fan being bored and really wanting to roleplay as blitz . Things will most likely be out of character at times, since I’m pretty much just having fun with this. Also I am NOT doing the crappy spelling and I’d appreciate if you didn’t talk for me or shit like that. Same as @king--of--ducks

Friends

@king--of--ducks

@charlie-morningstar666

@moonnighthowling666

@alyxdefoisnthere

@moxxies-wife

@thelogicalimp

Group of role players

@king--of--ducks (horse king - Aka Lucifer)

@charlie-morningstar666 (Charlie/ bestie)

@moxxies-wife (Millie)

@moonnighthowling666 ( ❤️loony❤️)

@lovelyfeather (Stolas)

@stolasofthearsgoetia (another Stolas)

@alyxdefoisnthere (my 2nd bestie/ coworker)

@thelogicalimp ( Moxxie)

@the-exterminator (lute)

@lilith-morningstar-returned (Lilith)

@fizzy-jezter (fizz)

@fizzy-froggie (another fizz)

@hoshi-neko-hikari (my wonderful goddaughter)

@headlessdeaddancer (my adopted nephew)

@vox-tv-demon (Vox)

@featheryhoe (Asmodeus- Ooc: Aka Ozzie)

@weapon-collector-odette (MJ’s sister, so I guess that makes her my niece?)

@ducky-loyal-servant-of-lucifer (Lucifers Servant? Friend? Probably both) (Ooc: my Helluverse oc)

@alastorthisisthetea (Alastor)

@alastor-the-demon (the Alastor I don’t talk to)

Ps my head cannon is blitz is 100% certain that @alastor-the-demon is a horse and no one can convince him otherwise, even if they try.

[khawla-gfm2]

🛑❤️‍🩹Don't Scroll! Help Khawla's Family!❤️‍🩹🛑

Khawla (34yo) and her husband make up a family of 5 with their kids. In great need of financial aid in order to buy products like milk, diapers, food, and water for her 3 children, Muhammad (5yo, Sham (3yo), and Ghazal (1 and a half).

Muhammad has contracted hepatitis from contaminated water, and needs all the help with that he can get.

Ghazal is lactose intolerant, so they need to work around her dietary needs to keep her immune system up as much as possible.

Please help them reach their $20,000 by donating even just $5, $10, or $20. Please reblog/share the campaign to spread it to more people who can donate!

Vetted Fundraiser By Association: Khawla is the sister of Mohiy from @mohiy-gaza2 who has his own campaign. He reached out to me to organize her campaign and run it as she has little to no access to internet. you can find someone who asked Mohiy for confirmation > here <

[repost from @khawla-gfm]

the original blog was shadowbanned and can't send or receive messages anymore.

tagging some people:

@astronnonyy @cowsquirrel @artsyrosie @halfmoonism @whisper-valley @loonfromq @here-sean-once-was @waiting-on-mars @bandtrees @mpregwizard @goosecorp @grapejuicedragoon @chloefrazer @lesbianmaxevans @hauntedcloudtheorist @sanaimissyou @zigcarnivorous @ambsacen @silver1012345 @ebenrosetaylor @promiscuousasexual @lord-of-the-froggies @stinykittens @duovxq @dapokemonmadster @saffronbaklava @labutansa @garnetgh0st @dqrknight @spaceswordblaster @importantt-reblogs @e-102 @goodguydotmp3

[welldrawnfish]

Ooo, is there anyone in the goblin camp that becomes fast friends with Twig? :o

I dont have all the names yet!! Theres Fish Guts, a scout in training who she gets teamed up with. Theres an old lady goblin Who teaches her to basket weave! Twig struggles alot with her fingers big and froggy with her dexterity and has to relearn alot of stuff. I dont have a name for her Theres a goblin Chief, and a smaller kid sister goblin too. Goblins get their names after being dunked in a basket of stuff and seeing what comes out of their hair.