#i checked

[joshuamartian]

I unironically think everything about this is cool. The swaggering animation. The tiny electronic visor instead of mirrored shades. The fact that they gave this moment to the most homicidal Ferengi in the whole series.

[harry0120ak]

Namemc spoilers

Bro I checked it earlier this afternoon.....

WHERE THE HECK WAS THIS!!?

[laginestra98]

To Fanny Targioni Tozzetti, Florence, 16th August, 1832 - Giacomo Leopardi // The Sea, The Sea - Iris Murdoch // Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan on 16 November 1581 - Ilya Repin // Prague, September 14, 1920, Letters to Milena - Franz Kafka // Judith Beheading Holofernes - Caravaggio // Anonymous // The Colors of the Soul - Edvard Munch // The Crucible, Act One - Arthur Miller // The Creation of Adam - Michelangelo // To Charles Brown, 30 September 1820 - John Keats // Ophelia - John Everett Millais

[orzuie]

does anybody want some art done before the holidays so I can eat in december? (and maybe, maybe even replace my wretched traitorous phone battery)

dm me for the discount code or don't, up to you

Commissions are open!

I have a couple of commission types! Check them out if you want to!

Here is some art I made so you can get a feel for my stuff

more under the cut :3

[marzipanandminutiae]

Yknow sometimes I think about collecting more antique clothing to wear but then I remember that I'm 5'10" and ladies weren't that tall back then

Oh, they were! Just fewer of them (throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, average height fluctuated as low as 2" below the modern average, or as close to it as no difference at all). And their clothing is less likely to survive, because larger or longer garments could be more easily cut down to make clothing for smaller relatives and/or children. That's called "survivorship bias," and in clothing history, it's the reason small clothes tend to be overrepresented in museums. There are other factors, like formal milestones for which clothing might be a significant memento happening mostly early in life, when you're at your smallest adult size, but that's the most relevant one to your situation.

Also, don't feel too bad- a lot of antique clothing isn't wearable for not immediately obvious reasons. From concerns about silk "shattering," a form of damage that's literally unrepairable, to iron mordants in black dye making black garments fall apart faster over time, your best bet re: wearing antiques is to stick to things like undergarments and maybe blouses and outerwear. Sad but true.

[cookieclover]

For the cat formers may I request HotRod/Rodimus

Kittymus, as requested :> He was actually pretty difficult to make, from the design, to the wing shape, to the colors - as my yellow pain was weirdly thin TT Still, I love this wittle guy

[corvidsofthedeep]

from the deep #24056: METALMANGG by Timur Khabirov @timurkhabirov (inactive) and @/timurkhabirovart on insta

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

I have been disowned by my sister for my "monstros pallet" because I decided since we didn't have any more sticky rice, I'd add a whole shallot onion to some leftover Thai jerky-

"What's burning"?

Bitch it's called 💖Carmalizing💖 the smoke is part of the experience

[fairymonk]

right under divine smite it says "fuck aabria"

[infiniteeight8]

Love your stories. Literal highlight of my days!!!

Prompt: “So what if you’re not my soulmate! I don’t care!”

Thanks so much! 😀

-

Stephen just stares when Tony pulls out the ring and asks the question. Tony’s nerves transmute into a terrible dread when the silence goes on and on and Stephen’s answer becomes clear. By the time he speaks, Tony is cold all over.

“Tony, I can’t,” Stephen says, quietly. He looks broken. Why does he look broken when Tony’s the one whose proposal just got turned down?

“Why not?” Tony asks desperately. “I love you. I know you love me. No one ever really made me believe they loved me before, but you did!”

Stephen closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he only looks more determined. “Because I’m not your soulmate,” he says.

Tony surges up off his bent knee and stuffs the ring back in his pocket. “So what if you’re not my soulmate?! I don’t care!” 

“You’ll care when you meet them,” Stephen says, looking up at him from his seat on the couch. “Tony, somewhere out there is someone who is perfect for you. Someone who will make you happy like I never could. You deserve that.”

“Perfect for me.” Tony snorts. He paces for a moment and then stops in front of Stephen, jaw set. “I have the most famous soulmark in the world, right? You’ve seen the fakers. Everyone knows what it looks like.”

“They won’t all be fakers—”

“Yes or no!” Tony snaps. “Everyone knows what it looks like, right?”

Stephen frowns. “Right. Yes.”

“Which means that my soulmate knows that I’m their match,” Tony says. “They know I’m their match and they decided they didn’t want me. They didn’t want me before Afghanistan, they didn’t want me after, and they don’t want me now. And if they ever change their mind? I don’t care!” Tony realizes he’s shouting and stops, takes a breath. “Nothing they could say could ever make up for the fact that they chose not to be here when I needed them most. Like hell I’m going to let fate stick me with someone like that. I want someone who chose to be with me. I want someone who decided to be with me because they like me, not because some,” he flails for a word for a moment, “some fucking birthmark said they should be.”

Stephen is staring up at him. Hope surges in Tony’s chest. He drops into a crouch and takes Stephen’s hands in his. “You’re right for me because you’re blank,” he insists. “You picked me. Even when everyone told you it was a bad bet, you picked me. That’s what I want. I want us to choose each other, over and over again.”

Stephen is flushed now. His eyes are shining and… yes, Tony thinks that might be a smile. “Give me my ring,” Stephen says.

Tony blinks. “What?”

“You offered me a ring,” Stephen says. “Give it to me.”

Laughing, Tony fishes the ring out of his pocket again. “Is that a yes?”

Stephen beams when Tony slides the band onto his finger. “That’s a yes,” he confirms, and pulls Tony into a kiss.

[blacksheep-alien]

The royal couple on their wedding day

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Bestie I reread you pebble alpha cowboy au thing last night and it’s plaguing my every being pls I need more if you can find it in your heart this holiday season, won’t you consider donating to wrath’s that need your help?

Oooo you just summoned my undying cowboy AU brainrot. And yes, I do want to write more about it, so, there you go, my humble offering to you. Cowboy smut coming your way, hehehehehehehe. (this got way longer than i intended, sorry for the delay)

So, alright, maybe Pebble's been staying a bit longer in town than he usually would. But the people are nice in here, really. There's Ivy, who's taken to slipping Pebble free drinks when Omega pretends not to be looking ; the big man himself, despite his intimidating stature, is actually quite sweet, gentle in a way you wouldn't expect at first glance, with a warmth to him that inevitably has people eager to come back to the saloon.

Pebble also met a ranch owner with a dazzling smile named Delta for whom he's been working for a little while now, helping with everything he can from repairing fences to taming feisty horses, glad to be needed and earn his keep. The room he's renting is pretty nice, for how little Zephyr, the inn keeper, charges him for it, definitely far from the worst place he's stayed at. And there's that cowgirl who's freaking terrifying but often quietly joins Pebble for a smoke in some back alley- somehow, she always finds him, no matter where Pebble goes. He only learns her name, Mist, after nearly a week of silently sharing joints. He's fairly sure she could break him in half. He's never met a cooler person in his entire life.

So, yeah, Pebble stays. And it has nothing to do whatsoever with the asshole of a sheriff who's apparently developped the uncanny ability to make Pebble cum faster every time they end up cramed into some dark nook with their hands down each other's pants, no sir.

Because, yes, it happens again, and again, and again. They'll have a drink or two after a long day, find an excuse to pick a fight, which will quickly turn sexual, because apparently nothing gets either of them harder than homoerotic loathing.

Sometimes, Pebble wonders how damaged he must be to get off on the threat of Alpha's teeth against his jugular.

Today, though, is different. The sky is still very much high in the sky, its rays beating down on Pebble's bare back as he splashes water on his face, taking a much-needed break from trying to get a stubborn bull to still long enough for him to check on the healing laceration wound on its flank. A prickling sensation at the back of his neck is what gets Pebble to glance up, reajusting his crooked hat, only to meet familiar hungry eyes staring right back.

It's a shock, somehow, to see Alpha in daylight, fully exposed in a way the night and its silver moon never let him be, a part of him always shrouded in shadows. Not now, though. Now, the sheriff is standing, hip cocked to rest against the fence, arms crossed in front of his chest, head tilted to the side, and Pebble can see so much details at once it almost makes him dizzy. The scar on his arm looks thicker, more gnarly, and for the first time, Pebble wonders how he got it. With the way Alpha's shirt is open, so widely he might as well have taken it off, Pebble is treated to the sight of damp skin and a smattering of hair that has him nearly drooling.

And Alpha's face...it looks as though he paused as he was shaking his hair free from his hat, like maybe he didn't see Pebble until it was too late, until he'd let his walls down enough to take an accessory usually worn like a shield off without a second thought ; now he's frozen, features weirdly open, eyebrows unfurrowed, the crease between them smoothed out, lips slightly parted, his facial scars pale against sunkissed skin.

It hits Pebble like a sack of bricks then, that Alpha isn't just hot. He's beautiful. Shit.

Thankfully, the sheriff himself looks like his brain shut down for a minute, giving Pebble time to straighten and clear his throat awkwardly.

"Fuck you're doin' here ?"

Alpha arches an eyebrow, but it feels less provocative than usual, more genuinely taken aback.

"Wanted to check on Delta."

Sure, yeah, sounds perfectly logical. The man in question took a nasty hoove to the shoulder trying to calm down a panicked horse, makes sense that Alpha, as the sheriff, would be preoccupied. Still, Pebble's never seen him at the ranch. He knew that Alpha came here from time to time - he and Delta have lived in the same city for ages, of course he does- but Pebble never crossed path with him here, in this place that he associate with honest work, tiring but gratifying, something almost soothing in the way it takes up all his focus and drives away all thoughts from his head.

Alpha looks out of place here, even though he's probably more comfortable and used to the place than Pebble is. Like his brain cannot comprehend the man he labeled as the bane of his existance and the very real menace for his stamina standing here, edges softened by the surprise, looking fine and relaxed under the blinding afternoon sun.

To Pebble, Alpha is white hot rage pulsing in his veins, adrenaline shooting through his body, bloodied teeth bared in a dangerous smile, moonlight sparsely lighting an alley, quick breathes and bitten back noises. To see him in such a drastically different scenery has Pebble reeling.

"...is that a bite mark ?"

Pebble blinks, yanked out of his thoughts by Alpha's voice. He doesn't know how to interpret that tone, but he doesn't have to follow the sheriff's gaze to know what he's talking about.

"Coyote. Nearly ripped a good chunk out of me."

While Pebble isn't exactly insecure about the huge jaw imprint on his right side, he is aware how off putting it can be. Deep, irregular lacerations, from where the beast sank its teeth while shaking its head like it was trying to pull Pebble appart - and it probably was.

Alpha wistles lowly, Pebble distantly noting that this is the first peaceful conversation they have.

"Always hell to make 'em let go."

With a shrug, Pebble absent-mindedly runs his thumb on one of the rough scars tearing through his ribs.

"Had to pry its jaw open with my own hands. Twisted its neck real quick - guess adrenaline does make you do insane things."

Something changes in Alpha stance then. He straightens, taking a deep breath, eyes roaming on Pebble with that same intensity that never fails to make him look away.

"That's so fucking hot," the sheriff grunts, not even giving Pebble time to react to the statement before he descends onto him, gripping his wrist with bruising strenght, "I need to fuck you, can I fuck you ?"

And, well. They haven't actually fucked fucked yet. Handjobs is as far as they got but somehow, now that the notion's on the table, Pebble is craving Alpha on top of him. Just like that. He feels a little light-headed, so of course he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I don't know, can you ?"

Alpha rolls his eyes hard enough it looks painful.

"Shut your damn mouth."

They end up sneaking into Delta's house, Pebble deciding he'd rather not know where Alpha learnt how to pick locks so efficiently. He'd be more reluctant if his dick wasn't currently doing all the thinking, besides Delta won't be back in a while, so really, what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right ? Pebble vows to work extra hard once he doesn't feel half blind with lust. At least Alpha has the decency to lead him toward the guest room, not Delta's, because to that, Pebble would've drawn the line. Probably. He isn't sure how much he can trust his morals in his current state.

The bed creaks loudly when Pebble's back hits the mattress, Alpha landing above him the second he's gotten rid of his shirt. It's different, there's so much more skin to touch, Pebble is obsessed, gropping greedily, mapping warm flesh, scars and patches of hair with his palms. Alpha is doing much the same, except it's his mouth travelling all over Pebble's body hungrily, tongue darting out insistently, tasting him like a man starved. Teeth nipping here and there, making Pebble flinch instinctively just to arch up into it once his stupid, lust-fried brain registers how good it feels.

Things get even more frantic once Alpha manages to get rid of Pebble's pants, belt and all. He doesn't remember kicking his boots off, but he must've, because they're nowhere to be seen. Not that Pebble manages to focus on that for long with the frenzied way Alpha grabs at every available parts of him. Like he can't help it. It's very flattering, as well as unbelievably hot. Then Alpha nuzzles the divot created by his hipbone, trailing lower until he can tear off Pebble's underwear with his teeth, want overrules any rational thoughts he might have had. The sight of the Sheriff, face pressed against the burning skin of his lower stomach, looking up with a devilish grin, makes Pebble's cock kick so hard his eyes roll back a little.

By the time Alpha is shucking the rest of his own clothes, Pebble needs him inside of him yesterday. Even more so when the sheriff unceremoniously shoves his fingers inside Pebble's mouth. He has half a mind to bite them, just to be a pain, but really, he doesn't have time for this today. So he coats Alpha's fingers in saliva, while the man does a number on his neck, no doubts leaving a ring of purple bruises all around his throat.

Prep is a quick thing though Alpha doesn't rush, stretching Pebble with ruthless efficiency, until the sheriff has him writhing and biting his tongue not to beg. Thankfully, Alpha's patience seems to be running thin, because soon enough, the head of his cock presses against Pebble's hole, eyes flying up to ensure he has the go-ahead. Pebble wraps his legs around Alpha's hips as an answer, already flushed and sweaty. With a fleeting smirk, Alpha finally, finally pushes in.

And it rocks Pebble's fucking world because god fucking dammit, when's the last time he's been with someone he wanted so much ? Not just some casual attraction, no, this fully encompassing desire that burns bright in his veins ? He can't remember. In one smooth, slow thrust, Alpha bottoms out, panting heavily in the hollow of Pebble's throat when he does so. There's a moment of stillness where they both try to adjust, where Pebble has the time to relish in how full he feels, then Alpha's rocking his hips shallowly, testing the waters.

It quickly becomes not enough, prompting Pebble to swallow several times, until he can taunt.

"That all you've got ? C'mon, fuck me like you mean it, sheriff."

Judging by the throaty groan that gets him, Pebble struck a nerve. Which is only confirmed when Alpha picks up the pace, pulling out almost all the way just to slam back in again with enough strenght to make the wooden headboard thump against the wall. It's not long before they're both drenched, skins sticky where they rub together, Alpha's grip bruising on Pebble's waist, each thrust wrangling desperate, half stiffled noises from them. A minute shift of the sheriff's stance, and Pebble has to bite his hand not to wail.

"That's the spot, uh ? Yeah, that's it, feels- mmh, good, doesn't it ?"

Alpha's voice is rough, strained, huffs and groans cutting his sentence, which is far too attractive for Pebble to handle. He doesn't answer, can't, really, especially with how obvious it is what he would say if he could. He can feel his orgasm creeping up on him, noises les and less controlled, body tensing up, when Alpha blindly reaches for his hand and guides it to his throat.

For half a second, Pebble just stays like this, blinking at the sight of his hand loosely wrapped around the sheriff's neck, until it all catches up to him and he squeezes.

Alpha makes the loveliest choked sound, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he leans even harder into the pressure of Pebble's hand, even as his face reddens and his eyes start watering.

Then the sheriff grabs Pebble's neglected cock, thumbing messily at the head, and Pebble's done for, nearly arching off the bed, vision flashing white as he blows his load with a silent shout. Very, very, distantly, he registers that Alpha's spilling mere seconds after him, loud groan echoing in the room.

Pebble would be embarrassed about the time it takes for him to come back to his senses, if Alpha wasn't in much the same state, panting by his side on the now soiled sheets. There's a few beats of blissful silence, before Pebble let out a disblieving huff.

"Holy fucking shit."

Alpha pushes himself up into a seating position, smirking in that infuriatingly smug way of his, looking far too pleased with himself. Naturally, Pebble flips him off. Naturaly, Alpha flops back down to bite at his hip bone. Hard. Bastard will probably leave a mark. But, well, Pebble barely has the energy to yelp and swat him away, so.

Thankfully, Alpha makes it his mission to find them washclothes and clean both of them with the same efficiency as usual, before changing the sheets, packing the dirty ones in order to take care of them himself. Pebble, now dressed again and relocated to a plush armchair in a corner of the room, watches Alpha mill about like he owns the place. Mind pleasantly sluggish, Pebble wonders how much time he spent at Delta's place, maybe after days helping at the ranch. Enough, at least, for him to look completely at ease there, or maybe it's just an Alpha thing, strutting around with unwavering confidence no matter the situation.

Pebble's musing is interrupted by the sheriff snapping his fingers in front of his face, having clearly made several attempts at catching his attention.

"C'mon, let's go."

Letting himself be pulled to his feet, Pebble glances around, the reality of their situation dawning on him as he limps after Alpha, cursing the flight of stairs they have to take down to get back outside.

"Delta's going to murder us."

With a dismissive shrug, Alpha waves his worries off.

"Nah. Long as he gets his sheets back pristine, it'll be fine."

"We fucked in his guest bedroom while he was away and I was supposed to be working," Pebble points out. They're at the foot of the stairs now, Alpha pausing to grin back at him.

"What, you think he a saint ? I assure you, he's done nastier stuff in riskier places."

Well, fair enough, and it's not like Pebble can take back what just happened. Not that he wants to, either. Sure, he's aching all over, and working like that is going to be a bitch, but man was it worth it.

Once out on the porch, they're both distracted enough, lighting a well-deserved post-coital smoke, that they nearly jump out of their own skin when someone clears their throat from behind them.

Wearing a grin nearly too big for his face, Delta reclines further into his rocking chair.

"Had fun ?"

The long, incriminating silence that stretches between them finally gets broken by the sudden, uncontrolable fit of laughter that shakes the three of them to the point of tears.

Pebble gets a glimpse at the hand-shaped bruise around Alpha's throat, stomach swooping.

Maybe he'll stick around a little longer.

[itsaboringname]

okay okay allright I'm listening

[magnetic-tide]

swaybaby, with the way the bruins are allowing you to be attacked, any murders you commit can be called self defense

[moocha-muses]

"-I don't even care if it makes me sound like a monster. If I have to paste one more baby picture into a scrapbook, I'm going to start screaming and never stop."

"That does sound exactly like it should be the tenth level of hell."

"I used to like making scrapbooks. Billie has four. But . . . Twins are. Twins are harder than anyone lets one, and Dean and I were just getting to know each other again when I got pregnant, and then - it's not like I didn't want to marry him, but we never even get to spend time - you know, private time, together, so what was even the point-"

"We could woock right now, though?"

"What-"

"I mean, we always had great chemistry, right? I thought there were sparks. And I bet I'm a lot better in bed (or in a hot tub, whatever) than What's-His-Face."

". . ."

". . ."