#here u go!

[eddiesghxst]

no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.

you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)

it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.

but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)

anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶

BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.

also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie

18+ — MINORS DNI

word count: 1k

————

Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.

He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.

You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”

You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.

Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 

He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).

He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.

Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.

You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”

You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.

“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”

You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 

“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 

He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.

And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.

It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3

[vampirade]

🩵♥️

(click for better quality)

[k4ychiko]

Husk and pre-pilot Angel Dust

[faeryaesther]

CONCEPT DESIGN

This is a fan project with purpose to redesign WTA Tour's website layout. New design layout was done for the home page, players', and tournaments. Contents included were retrieved from the original website. All rights reserved.

[merrimentsmight]

I absolutely love your post about Cicero’s conflicting devotion towards the Listener! Could I get some (albeit rosy and maybe unrealistic) headcanons/thoughts about a Listener who is hopelessly and unhealthily devoted to Cicero? Like an Uno reverse lol

He was the pinnacle of devotion. The model assassin. The most tenacious knife fighter they'd ever seen. He, alone, brought the Night Mother hundreds of miles, through the border during wartime, into the last hideaway of their order, rotten as it was down to bones. It didn't matter what anyone else thought; Cicero was the savior of the Dark Brotherhood.

As they approached, their eyes followed the outline of his long sharp nose down to the pages of his journal, where he was writing away with a quill. There was a pot of deep purple ink beside him, and drops of it on the tips of his fingers. Color spread along them, following the grooves in his skin, staining his sturdy, clever hands.

"You are everything to me," they could have said, but didn't. They were afraid of scaring him, of pushing him deeper into himself; pushing him away. It would be the worst possible outcome when they basked in his presence like that rare summer warmth, when he made them laugh as easy as breathing. He didn't need to know, lest anything change. His friendship was enough. More than enough. More than they'd ever thought to ask for.

Cicero looked up, maybe noticed them floundering. He smiled at them. Not his clever, mocking smile, nor his wicked, vicious one. It was warm and open and earnest. He seemed happy to see them, his Listener, and they felt their bones melt.

"Do you need anything? For Mother? For yourself?" Asked the Listener, tightening the straps of the pack for their trip into Dawnstar for supplies.

It was such a foreign idea that Cicero could only laugh. He'd made do for such an awfully long time that he hardly knew what to do with the endless money that they were now bringing in. Nor the willingness of the Listener to dole it out.

"You mean Cicero might get reagents without picking them himself? Surely, this is more than enough reason to celebrate!" He laughed, and stood up, leaving his journal open so the ink might dry.

Before the Listener could peek into the book, Cicero started to dance. He grabbed their hand to pull them in to dance together, and their heart started to beat so hard they felt like they might choke on it. He swirled them, and they had to duck beneath his arm. And he pulled them close. And they could smell him, like flowers and incense.

"How about," they started, peering down into his golden eyes, "we go into town together?"

[duckiemimi]

How do you interpret mahito’s “you thought were doing pest extermination”?

A part of me feels like the story was going for nuance with the whole “curses are just as intelligent as humans, jujutsu sorcerers kills curses, curses kill humans, etc.” another part is just like “mahito you and your group are crazy/problem and need to go down”

AAAA AN ASK ABOUT THE CURSES!! i actually talked about this a little here (click)!

i really like the concept of cursed spirits being an allegory for the “ugly” parts of humanity, this two-sides-of-the-same-coin narrative between cursed spirits and sorcerers, symptoms of something wrong within the system, and simultaneously outside the “system,” a problem bigger than itself.

take sukuna, for example, who “transcended” humanity and became a curse (technically a reincarnated cursed object)—the only thing that really differentiates his past life and his current life, and then his current form we see in the anime as fingers, is death. but i’d argue that perhaps he was just as “rotten” when he was human. then where is the marker between human (sorcerer) and curse? who, which, what is the problem? (in my opinion, it takes mass effort and recontextualization to really get to the root of it.)

an add on!

i think the concept of a humanized mahito is so interesting, especially considering he’s the least attached to anything within his group of cursed spirits. yes, as a curse, he is the embodiment of hatred, but i’ve known and know of people who remind me of him. people who grew up in horrible environments, the result of hatred poured in. people who aren’t aware of the constant cognitive dissonance and self-sabotage they put themselves through—or maybe they are aware, but stopping is difficult. people who hurt and can’t stop hurting, who forgo empathy because it’s never been granted to them. but even then, at that point, are they really the root of the problem? (nah, they’re just a sore symptom i think.)

the nature of action shounen always ties back to the “good guys vs. bad guys” narrative, so i really appreciate the nuances, the grey matter (sorry geto), we see in the shibuya arc. i hope it continues to the end of the story!

[jmiemagvans]

Who: Jamie Mariadaga-Evans & @drtamarahayes

What: Emergency Services Carnival

Jamie was walking past all the food booths, looking for something to snack on. He loved the carnival, and it was always fun, a good break from work. Now the hard part was deciding between pizza or a burger. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar face. "Hey, doc," he grinned, waving over at Tam. "Long time no see," he joked, knowing that they had just seen each other at work the other day.

[imvgincs]

.  𓇬ㅤ♡   ˖⠀❛⠀⠀starter for @lcvlettrs.

                            it   seemed   a   recurring   theme   lately—that   she   was   always   the   last   to   know   anything.   thank   goodness   for   haeju   (who   would've   thought   she'd   ever   think   those   words),   but   the   bug   hero   seemed   to   have   all   the   inside   scoop.   it   was   through   him   that   she'd   heard   about   the   quirk   incident   that   had   unfolded   earlier   today.   it   surely   couldn't   have   come   at   a   better   time   as   she   was   crying   into   a   bowl   of   strawberries   while   watching   la la   land   for   the   second   time.   true   to   her   word,   lily   had   stopped   by   to   check   on   joongi,   armed   with   sustenance,   all   because   haeju   had   fretted   the   older   man   might   'starve'   if   left   to   his   own   devices.   how   silly.

                            she   tapped   in   the   entry   code   he'd   texted   her   and   eased   open   the   door   to   her   former   mentor's   apartment with care.    ❛  joongi?  ❜   she   called   out,   her   voice   carrying   through   the   space.   she   slipped   off   her   shoes   carefully,   neatly leaving   them   by   the   door   before   she   made   her   way   over,   placing   the   bag   she'd   brought   onto   his   table.   ❛  i   brought   you   something   to   eat!  ❜  

[virtualplushy]

could you post your pfp please she is so warm and i love her 😭

[alanide-arts]

I can't seem to find the lyric video you made, did Tumblr delete it?

the stills look really cool though!

Oh! It's on my Youtube omg-

[gummiscr1bblez]

Hey! I wanted to ask if you’re still doing commissions by any chance?

yes i am! heres my new sheet!

[ask-emile-sdv]

Emile! Have some peaches! 🍑🍑🍑

and maybe show me those piercings? Especially the one on your stomach. ;)

(can you do sketches of the piercings like you did with the tattoos? I want to see!)

Oh, thanks for the peaches. I’ll cut some up for my grandma. They aren’t half bad, actually….

Show you my piercings? Especially the-?!

Jeez… when did you all become so forward? Fine… just a peak okay?! Only for 5 seconds!

[oakbuggy]

wait is there a specific rsn why ur so'lek art isn't on ur ao3? 🥺

I was referencing this art!

I just never drew past what I posted, so I didn’t see a point in putting it in the nsfw AO3! Nothing’s really shown !

[xcelestial]

It wasn't often that she found herself at the library, but here she was, and she regretted even coming here. She felt frustrated. Surely, she was smart, so how on Earth was she baffled by what she was reading? Maybe because you don't know this language, Lucy. A sigh, and she would be startled by the appearance of another out of the corner of her eye, visibly jumping a small bit, and she didn't find herself relaxing when she saw who it was. "Freed." She shouldn't be surprised. He seemed just to have a thirst for knowledge about as large as hers was, not that she would truly know given their history.

[hehosts-moved]

❝ hopefully, he never knows, ❞ ren says quietly between them, ❝ about me —— about anything. it would change everything for him. how he sees me. what i've had to do to give him the life he has now ... and my mother, ❞ he bemoans, ❝ what would she think? ❞ he already knows. it would kill her. i would kill her. he swallows hard. ❝ secrets are like that, you know? they hurt everyone. that's why ... no one else can know. especially not them. ❞ too many are privy already. best to bury ren when the time is right. best to keep yori buried ... for now. // * @iryonin wanted a ren starter !!

[jinglegist]

@rocknrollerskates