#had to repost

[hazbin-hotel-screencaps]

Alastor’s signature move when annoying Charlie’s loved ones

[freckledjoes]

New still of Joseph as Emperor Geta!!

[frostleni]

Episode 2. When your husband cooks

[rachemchul]

Conrad + Belly (Hands)

[whatrobotsneed]

false disposition

i decided im gonna redraw a scene from every song in order woooo Its fun!!! I actually enjoyed coloring this even if idk how i feel abt the end result

Im trying to use this as an opportunity to convey atmosphere (?) through colors better since im not strong at that

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Valentines Day with Eddie

♡ Eddie is a hopeless romantic. We all know this.

On valentines Day, he's going all out for you. He's buying you expensive chocolate and picking out the biggest stuffed animal in the store. He'll rent a motel room for the night and fill it with heart-shaped balloons. There would be rose petals and champagne. He'll also get himself some beer just in case. He'd go out of his way to try and make those chocolate covered strawberries himself. They dont turn out how he planned, but he still gives them to you. He's not the best at expressing his feelings, so he'll make you little mix tape of songs that remind him of you. He's not used to being in a serious relationship. So he's doing everything he's seen in the movies. He wants to make your first valentines Day with him memorable because you're special and worth every bit of it.

[insolt]

maybe i'm amazed

no text ver below

[cosmicpoutine]

[modern/biker au] indeed he does have a kid

[lesviolyn]

people always mention that azula manipulated ty lee into joining her mission (which i'm not denying) but they never mention how everybody (except for aang) mistreated azula post-war. the only time it'd make sense for azula to be chi blocked was when she was an actual threat not when she was restrained by chains! this is straight up abuse...

(i'm not saying ty lee or the gaang are bad people. i'm just criticizing the comics)

[wenumsmol]

A notification from Gojo with the caption “Goodmorning, Pookiebutt. 😘”

Uncensored Version free on Bluesky <3

Don't forget to reblog here, repost on Bluesky, and follow for more!

Art Scribbles

(I had to repost this with him wearing shorts and a blanket covering because my censorship wasn't good enough, apparently. It was done in a rush -_-')

[antisdonotinteract]

snowfog {❄️💨}

[darkenedroses-world]

Fractured Loyalties — Grizzy x Reader

f!reader, cheating implied, sneaky sex, request🦋

It was impossible to forget the first time it happened. The way you and Grizzy had locked yourselves away, giving in to something electric and reckless. Neither of you expected it to go further. You had someone waiting for you at home, someone who trusted you, yet here you were—stealing nights, exchanging furtive touches, and burying your conscience beneath lust and longing. You told yourself it was a one-time slip. A moment of weakness. But it didn’t end there. Each time you found yourself near Grizzy, the room charged with unspoken need. Every glance simmered with what you hadn’t let go of. And he, ever watchful, read you as easily as a page in a book. You were addicted to the way he tilted his head when you said you couldn’t stay too long, the sly curve of his lips whenever he saw your resolve weakening. It was late—too late—when you crept into his house again. This had become a pattern: your partner thought you were out catching up with friends or working a late shift. You’d left them asleep, or so you hoped, their phone calls ignored, guilt gnawing at the edges of your mind. But when Grizzy opened the door, shirt rumpled, eyes heavy-lidded with want, your shame dulled in comparison to the rush of need. He didn’t bother with small talk this time. He pulled you in by the waistband of your jeans, lips finding yours with a kind of relieved hunger, as if he’d been waiting all day.

No protests left your mouth; you tangled your fingers in his hair as he guided you backward into the bedroom. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” he murmured against your neck, voice low, just slightly teasing. You bit your lip, failing to summon an excuse. Your silence spoke volumes. Clothes dropped to the floor with careless haste. He pressed you onto the bed and slid between your thighs, taking his time now that he had you here. It was slower than the first time, more deliberate. He traced your curves with open palms, gripped the softness of your hips as he pressed into you, his gaze fixed on your face. There was no need for words—just the quiet gasps and muffled moans that filled the air. When you came undone beneath him, you whimpered his name, voice trembling with both pleasure and regret. In the dim light, after he held you for a moment, the world outside the apartment door felt distant and irrelevant. But eventually, you dressed quietly and slipped out once more, heart pounding as you stepped onto empty streets, determined to never do this again.

Never lasted exactly five days. Five days of hollow promises to yourself, of stilted conversations with the person you were supposed to love. Five days of replaying Grizzy’s touch in your mind whenever you closed your eyes. The tension snapped when you visited him at his place under the flimsiest of excuses—something about dropping off a borrowed jacket. He saw right through it. This time it wasn’t even dark out. Late afternoon sun slanted through the windows. You intended to keep it brief, but you only made it as far as the living room before he cornered you against the couch, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “You said you had to go home soon,” he reminded you, voice full of challenge. Your stomach flipped. You managed a shaky laugh. “I should. Really,” you insisted, even as you leaned into him, even as your lips parted when his mouth claimed yours. He chuckled softly, fingers slipping under your shirt, goosebumps rising wherever he touched. “Liar.” With that, he turned you around, pressing your front against the couch’s back.

Your breath caught. You could see your reflection in the switched-off TV: flushed cheeks, wild eyes, Grizzy’s form behind you, his hands splaying across your waist. Before you could protest or think too hard about what this meant, he freed himself and rocked into the juncture of your thighs. Your grip on the couch tightened, muffling a moan in the cushions. The position was risky, the scenario unreal. Afternoon light, blinds half-closed, neighbors possibly walking by outside. But fear of discovery only heightened the thrill. His pace was confident, firm but controlled, your soft cries echoing in the quiet room. He gritted out your name, as if reminding you that he knew exactly who you were—someone taken, someone not his, and yet completely his in that moment. You bit down on your lip, body shaking when you found release. Even as shame burned your cheeks, you reached behind, tangling your fingers in his hair, keeping him close until both of you were spent and breathing hard.

Afterward, you rearranged your clothes and left in a haze of conflicting emotions. He watched you go with hooded eyes, no promises made on either side. But you carried a secret truth with you as you stepped out: as wrong as it was, you hungered for him more than ever, and the idea of staying in your current relationship felt increasingly hollow. Weeks later, you stood in your own bedroom now—your partner’s space—and realized how empty it felt. Everything was predictable, comfortable, and yet lacking that heady spark you found with Grizzy. Your partner’s affections were genuine, you knew that, but it didn’t light up your veins the way Grizzy’s touch did. The guilt was crushing. You felt like a terrible person, betraying someone who didn’t deserve this. But the heart rarely chooses the easy path. By the time you found yourself at Grizzy’s door again, it was late, your mind made up. You were going to end things with your partner.

You couldn’t keep lying, couldn’t keep splitting yourself in two. Your heart hammered as Grizzy let you in, brows raised in surprise. Before he could speak, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the bedroom. “What’s going on?” he asked, voice cautious, reading the turmoil in your eyes. “I can’t do this anymore,” you said, tears threatening to form. “I can’t keep lying. I’m… I’m going to break up with them.” His surprise was evident. He stepped closer, studying your face. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly, voice devoid of teasing now, replaced with something weightier—hope, perhaps, or fear. You nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ve never been more sure.” Then your voice wavered, “I’m falling for you, Grizzy. I can’t pretend I’m not. I’m done pretending.” The tension in the air was thick and bittersweet. Slowly, he raised a hand, cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed falling. He didn’t say anything grand, just leaned in and kissed you softly at first—far softer than any time before.

But that gentle kiss didn’t stay gentle for long; the storm you’d both been holding back found its release. He guided you onto the bed, every movement laden with emotion. This time, the sex was different. It wasn’t just hunger and secrecy—it was a promise, a vow sealed in breathless moans and whispered confessions. He took his time stripping away your clothes, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone, your chest, your stomach. You trembled beneath him, tears sliding down your temples as you realized that this wasn’t just lust or recklessness. It was the start of something real. When he entered you, it was slow and deliberate, each thrust speaking a truth neither of you dared utter out loud until now. You gasped his name, voice thick with longing and relief. He responded with quiet groans, his forehead pressed against yours, his lips brushing your cheek. “You’re mine,” he whispered, voice shaking slightly. “No more hiding?” You shook your head, crying softly now, but not from shame—this time from the overwhelming sense of rightness.

“No more hiding.” He moved deeper, each stroke winding the tension tighter until you cried out, back arching, soul unraveling in his arms. He followed you moments later, clinging to you as if he feared you might vanish if he let go. In the stillness afterward, as sweat cooled on your skin, you curled into his side. He played with a strand of your hair, silent, but the silence spoke volumes. You had made your choice. Tomorrow, you would end your old relationship. There would be tears and guilt, no doubt. But you would be free, unburdened, ready to see where this dangerous, irresistible connection with Grizzy could lead. For now, though, you just lay there, listening to the quiet hum of the night, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time. No more sneaking, no more splitting yourself in two. Soon, you and Grizzy would face the world together, openly, without the shadows of secrets—just the two of you, forging a new path.

pt. 1 here

[shieldofiron]

Incapable of being normal is kind of their thing.

[skelelun]

"𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳, 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨."

[fl0pera]

poses from introversion

[brotherconstant]

MEMORY IS A MONSTER (1/2)

THE EXORCIST (1.10) INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (1.07)