#i dont like it at all since its just my body

[leviiackrman]

"I don't feel in control sometimes. After all... I have someone else's thoughts in my head."

more edits || character page || x.x

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[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Don’t know if you’re still taking prompts but if you are you should totally write about ford eating out fem!stan for the first time plz🙏

hey anon! sorry i took a really long ass while to respond to this since i couldnt think of any specific scenarios to write this prompt of that wasn't just, you know, the prompt— but it finally hit me like a truck today! and also cuz i was sick and doing this in between homework djdndhdsn

anyway, VERY explicit under this read more, since i got SO carried away, hope you dont mind its the geezers pre-weirdmageddon in this one AND that you dont mind a little sex pollen also ty ty ty so much for your fem!stan request i love it when people enable me dhdndhdbdu also sorry to everyone who exoected a "read more" but tumblr hides my stuff when i do that so heres the warning, please scroll if thats not your thing

~~

"Constance, get down!"

"Wha—"

It was too late. Cloud of pink glitter exploded in her face and sent her into a coughing fit so hard her lungs shook in her ribcage. She drops to the floor and hears Ford's "Constance!"

Then she hears him fire his space gun. Just out of her periphery was chunks of blue goo that would be a fucking bitch to clean out of the walls and carpet, but la di da, there it was. There isn't a second to groan about that or the way her breathing turned heavy when Ford runs to her side, grabbing at her arm and forcing her to her back.

"Constance, are you okay?"

"Stanford..." Stan wheezes, turning her head into a hafl glare. "What... the HELL was that...?"

Ford's eyes narrow, inspecting her face, before his thumb brushes against her cheek. Stan shivers, a full body quake and confusion over taking her while Ford inspects his thumb. From down here, Stan can only stare because what else can she do when she's down, dizzy with virtigo from whatever magical poison that got sprayed across her face.

From down here, Stan feels the heat from Ford's grip, the pads of his fingers and the large mass of his palm against the bare skin of her arm, tickling the nerves underneath into sending sparks that go through her body and meet at the coil of her stomach. Even Ford's knee, under all that cloth and was much father from her face than Stan seems to think it is, illicited some deep, twisted something in Stan again she hasn't felt in a while.

"Ford?"

Ford's eyes snap back to her, blown and widened with alarm. Suddenly, he grabs her arm again, slips it over his shoulders, the other encircling her back. Stan thinks, alright, he's going to help me up, before a squawk rips from her throat when his arm loops under the back of her knees and lifts her to the air.

"What are you—?!"

"No time to explain, let's go," Ford says with all the urgency of a man on a mission. Carrying her out of their fairy-thing-guts covered living room with way too much ease, he sprints into the giftshop, ignoring Stan's confusion and dragging her into the basement.

It doesn't take a too long to find herself sitting on Ford's desk, trying to pump the breaks on the now doubled speed of her heart and the vibrations that run through out her body, working its ways to adjust to the surrounding. When Ford plopped her down and breathed the same air she did for less than a second, she felt it— ignition to an burnt out furnace suddenly bursting to new life. there was so much heat simmering through her veins, her nerves, every god damn thing was way too much to handle.

She's hot. Ford's desk and the glass plane behind her was cold, cold to a chill, and her thighs clench and rub together, onto the desk, aching for that rub of friction because she needed something hot, hot now, just as hot as her. Her mouth was dry, all the spit went on her tongue to her lips. Things— way too many things jumble in Stan's head, ranging from what the fuck is happening to holy shit, when did Sixer get that strong.

What stood out the most through was her brother saying he messed around with fucking nymphs, and all morning he's been hunted down by them. The one dead by their living room? A fucking nymph-assassin.

"Sixer, what the hell?" She pants, and oh God, she's panting? When the hell did that happen? Stan sucks in a breath again when Ford turns from rummaging through his stuff again to finally throw her a glance. Red hot heat crawls up her neck and she bites down on her lip when his eyes zero in on her squirming, her thighs. Stan might've thought she saw his jaw flex but, fuck if she wasn't also just going delirious.

"Why the hell were you messing around with those things in the first place?"

"I needed something from them, Constance," Ford answers measuredly, and Stan hears another racket from him looking for some goddamn thing through out his mess. "I've made an ammicable deal with them in the past, and now they're pushing for more. That's out of my control."

"I bet you backed out of that deal," Stan accuses, because it was pretty clear to them that Ford wasn't a god damn master of trickery or whatever. "What, you tried to swindle them for more of this fuck-powder? You know they sell viagra at the store?"

"That wasn't what I dealed with them for," Ford mutters lowly and, damn, if it were any other time, Stan would make fun of him. Stan would tease him, laugh at the embarrassed pout on his face, the bright red flush over his cheeks and ears. But she can't, not when Ford's back was what she's staring at, the broad, plane of his back and wide slopes of his shoulders, hidden under that stupid trenchcoat and sweater combo.

Where they could be ripped off and Stan could see all the things she never would have imagined her cute, nerdy but unappreciatedly handsome brother growing into if not for the one perk of getting shoved into a portal to whole universes of things trying to kill him. When she couldn't imagine him getting any hotter than he already��

They're back, those stupid god damn fantasies. They came at night, they came in the morning. They came whenever she and Ford would pass each other in the hall in their mutual agreement of no-talking, and his shadow almost engulfs her completely nowadays, and all she thinks is how stupid this whole avoiding each other thing is and they could be siblings as thick as thieves again.

Or even better— Ford could shove her into the wall and kiss her until she can't breathe. He could let her push that coat of his shoulders and sweater off his back so Stan's hands could crawl up them again. He could bite her neck, unbutton her blouse and pants, put one of those big palms to use and grope and squeeze around her tits, put those extra fingers to use and slip them into her pants, underwear, her, while Stan barely holds herself together biting at the firm skin on his shoulder.

Put that smartass mouth to use and say "Thank you, Stan" or "You're so good for me, Stan."

Get on his knees and put that mouth to even better use if he'd just shove down her pants, place his hands on her hips, nose against her bush and his mouth on her—

It takes a second too long to realize, but it happened. one hand slid between her legs, pushed the fabric of her boxers away to brush at her wet and even more senstive pussy. A second too long to stop that haggard mewl that came out of her lips.

A second too long to see that Ford finally turned back with a jar in way too tightly gripping hand, staring slack jawed at Stan behind his glasses.

Fucking great.

"Constance," Ford breathes shakily, and no, this can't happen. Their relationship can't get any worse, and sure Stan is gross for thinking about her brother that way, but she can't help that they're coming at the worst time, when she can't hide in her room far, far away from the basement and ride on her fingers to quiet cries of Ford's name.

"G-God, don't be so dramatic about it!" She says, sweat prickling at her neck. "You-you've seen me change and get naked before! This isn't that different!" Because there wasn't totally a difference between getting used to changing infront of your brother when you could barely live in one small space together when you were kids to touching yourself to them, right infront of them.

Right?

Man, she's such a sucker.

Shame is mixing with her already sizzling skin, and she needs to go. Take that jar-of-something to her room and figure it out on her own because obviously, Ford already wanted nothing to do with her and would want it even less now. Goddamn it, this would be so much easier if Ford didn't have eyes that were identical to hers, but wore it with that cutting stare that tore through her. Since they were teens and she was in denial about getting off to her twin brother who stared a little too hard— or even since forever.

Or at least if she wasn't still so hot and bothered thinking about him where she thinks she might've already came to his god damn desk.

Stan starts pushing herself off of it, face sweaty and pink. "F-Fine, I'll go. Just gimme that antedote and I'll—"

Ford closes the gap quicker than a lightning bolt, the jar already rolling on the floor and Stanford's mouth already crushed against hers, all hungry and desperate like he couldn't physically hold himself down anymore and their glasses knocking askew. He's nudging himself between her knees, his hands onto the fat on her hips, and shit, did he just moan? From just kissing her? Oh damn.

"Nevermind that. I think I have a better antedote," Ford says against her lips. "I'd like to test it out."

"Just fuck me already, Sixer, oh my God."

Stanford lights up, smiles like he won the damn lottery or fifty research grants or whatever. He dives right back in, kissing Stan, and sinking twelve nails into her hips as he drags them together. Stan groans, feeling the already hard tent go even harder against her, and her skin is on fire again, but this time melting the frigid parts of nerves into a liquid heat that's flowing directly down into her stomach, warming her up inside. Ford's hands move quick, from pushing the straps of her tank top down until she feels breeze touch her nipples to taking no sensitive measures to tugging and eventually ripping her boxers off her. Ford pulls away, and drags is mouth onto her neck then chest and Stan finally gets to put her hands on his shoulders, how big and strong he's gotten. One goes through his half greyed hair, and even when he was a teen she loved the dark, curly mop she'd pull into a noogie, but now it just makes him look better.

It makes her so mad, specially with what a grade A dick he's been. But she can't be that mad when Ford reaches her boob and takes a nipple into his mouth, nipping then sucking hard. "Shit—" Stan hisses, and there's nothing more to say than that.

"Fuck, Stan," Ford mutters against her skin, his breath tickling with the wetness on her nipple. "You drive me crazy."

"You're the one who fucked– ah– with Nymphs," She points out, and yeah maybe she could be a little jealous about that, but it dissapates when his fingers make their way into the warm, wetness of her pussy, just as special as Stan imagined it'd be. "Were– hh– they g-good lays, at least?"

"Not what I dealed with them for," Ford repeats, like that answers anything, and sinks loudly onto his chair, right between Stan's knees. His eyes drag down slowly on Stan, from her definitely fucked up hair, to half down tank top and tits hanging out, to right between her legs, and if Stan wasn't full on blushing then, well she sure was now. For a second it looks like he considers taking off his glasses, before deciding against it. Nerd.

Hooking the back of her knees over his shoulders, he smirks up at her again with that tear-her-apart stare again. "I doubt they'd ever taste this good."

Before Stan could respond to that, Ford's face goes between her thighs and his mouth is on her. If Stan thought she almost came earlier, then she's holding on for dear life when Ford's tongue laps at the outside before sinking deeper into her, sending shockwaves through out Stan. Moaning against her like he's the one getting head, like he's getting off from the taste of her on him alone. The flat of his tongue pushes against tight muscle, the heat almost pulsing, and making the wetness there grow more and more

Fuck, just Holy shit, how did he get this—

"Oh!" Stan gasps, one hand finding her own breast and the other on his desk, barely feeling the cold anymore with the clashing heat taking up her whole body, and all she can really feel is Ford's nose bumping against her bush when he only lets up for his teeth to graze against the nub of her clit while his fingers take over below. Stretching her out with his big, thick fingers, just so he could watch her like some pervy, old—

Then he sucks gently on it, and Stan is seeing white.

"Shit– Ford, I'm–"

"Just let it out, Stan," He says, still mostly against her. "You've been so good this whole time.

Thick thighs closing around Ford's head, that's what does her in. Of course it is. Her mind completely blanks out, turning to the white static on TV for a few moments until she realizes she's riding the rest of her orgasm on Ford's mouth at the end of it, while he laps it up like he'd die if he doesn't, like he's the cursed one.

Stan could barely register the murmurred whispers of her name and the movements of his arm from under the desk she's on until he's letting out a shuddering breath, forehead against her belly. Stan couldn't help the grin lighting up her face then.

Great, at least she's not the only one.

Just like that, the heat... doesn't really leave. Just wrapped around her cozily like the trenchcoat Ford threw over her when he finally stands up, only to drag Stan back on his lap. She's not getting used to that thirty years long honed strength anytime soon.

"Suppose I have a new more effective measures now," Ford says, lips finding Stan's, and she could taste herself on there, passed like a secret.

She's not getting used with this affection either, but Stan wants to see Ford try.

They stay a couple of moments there basking in this glow, until Stan peers up again, scratching the back of her neck when realization hits her.

"Hey, Sixer... you're the one cleaning that carpet upstairs, right?"

[moonselune]

hi there selune ‼️‼️ before, and if u read this, i apologize for my lack of better word, horrid fucking grammar, and minimal wording knowledge. Sending u love from germany ! (Write this in english though, if that wasnt clear)

alright, so, we all know about shadowhearts like .. phobia, of wolves, right? Can you write about the ladies (if not all of the main ones you write for, just shadowheart, since this was inspired by bbgirl herself) with a wolf selkie (if that exists, unsure!! Took inspo from Ursula, from the series Enchantment) s/o?

i feel like the initial/first encounter would be them thinking its just some random mutt and theyre like 'oh fuck yeah protein' but then tav throws off their big fat wolf hood coat cloak thing .. what-friggin-ever, and theyre like 'oh fuck yeah women' (or just .. g/n. I dont care)

thank u if u decide to write 🫂🫂🫂 this blog is much appreciated. Tschüss ! <3

Hallo!! don't even worry, i got what you meant completely xox

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart x F!reader | Woman in the Woods

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The woods were quiet, save for the crunch of Shadowheart’s boots on the forest floor and the erratic thrum of her heartbeat in her ears. The aftermath of the nautiloid crash had left her disoriented, hungry, and desperately searching for direction. As she wandered, her eyes caught movement ahead—a sleek, dark wolf prowling through the underbrush. Its amber eyes locked onto hers.

Shadowheart froze. The blood drained from her face as the sight sent a jolt of fear through her. A childhood phobia, irrational but deeply ingrained, rose like bile in her throat. The wolf wasn’t particularly large, but her mind magnified its size and ferocity. Her fingers trembled as they wrapped around the hilt of her dagger.

“You need to do this,” she whispered to herself, her voice a shaky mantra. “You’re no child. This isn’t the time for weakness. Food, Shadowheart. You need food.”

The wolf didn’t advance; it merely watched her, head tilted slightly. The longer she stared into its eyes, the more she swore it wasn’t a wild animal at all. There was an intelligence there, a flicker of something almost human.

“Steady,” she hissed, trying to still her quaking hands. She shifted her weight, preparing to lunge.

But before she could strike, the wolf straightened, its body shimmering in the dappled sunlight as it reached up… and began to peel away its fur. Shadowheart stumbled back, dagger raised, her breath catching in her throat as the creature transformed before her eyes.

It wasn’t a wolf. It was… a person.

No, not just a person—a figure of striking beauty. You stood there, your wolfskin cloak slipping from your shoulders to reveal a lithe, strong frame beneath. Your eyes, still the same molten amber as they were in wolf form, met hers, and you raised your hands in a gesture of peace.

“Don’t attack,” you said, your voice smooth and calming. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Shadowheart’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. Her dagger hovered uselessly in her hand, her earlier resolve forgotten.

“You… you’re—” she began, her voice faint. She quickly shut her mouth, realizing how foolish she must look gawking at you like this. She swallowed hard and straightened her spine, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “What in the hells are you?”

You smiled gently, picking up your cloak and draping it over your arm.

“A selkie,” you explained simply. “I take the form of a wolf when I wear this. It’s how I’ve survived in these woods.” Your gaze softened as you gestured toward her dagger. “You looked like you could use some help.”

Shadowheart blinked at you, her mind racing to catch up. A selkie? She’d heard of them in whispers—beings of dual forms, more myth than reality. And yet, here you were, standing before her with an easy confidence that left her both awestruck and flustered.

She quickly averted her eyes, hoping you wouldn’t notice the faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

“I… I see,” she said, her voice stilted. “Well, you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. I could’ve—”

“Killed me?” you teased, tilting your head. “I’ll admit, I’ve faced better odds than an unarmed woman trying to skewer me for dinner.”

“I am armed,” she snapped, waving her dagger for emphasis. “And I’m perfectly capable of—”

“Finding your way through the forest alone?” you interrupted gently, your tone turning more serious. “You don’t have to, you know. If you’d like, we could join forces. Two are better than one, after all.”

Shadowheart’s first instinct was to reject the offer. She’d worked alone for so long, trusting no one but herself, that the idea of relying on someone else felt foreign and uncomfortable. But as she looked at you—at your confident posture, the kindness in your eyes—she felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she said begrudgingly, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness. She hesitated, then added, “If you slow me down, though, don’t expect me to carry you.”

You chuckled, draping your cloak over your shoulders. “Fair enough. Shall we?”

She nodded, falling into step beside you as you led the way through the trees. Though she didn’t say it, she found her gaze drifting to you more often than she cared to admit. Something about you unsettled her—not in the way wolves did, but in a way that left her heart beating just a little faster.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so fun to write and such an interesting concept, I hope you guys enjoyed it!! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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[doyouremem8erme]

only if u wake up in the middle of the night with a dislocated elbow... otherwise people are just like girl wtf are u doing with ur bones and i dont even realize im doing it

but basically its quite common for various hypermobility disorders to be comorbid with autism/adhd (i personally have elhers-danlos syndrome) and it lets u overextend ur joints

(^ is it just me or does she sometimes bend her elbows backwards a lil bit... just like me fr)

(also love the one of her in maddie & marcy bc it reminds me of when we had to record all the other fitnessgram stuff other than the pacer test and i would always be completely off the scale on the reach test and the . whatever the one where you do what marcys doing in that pic. the gym teachers would not believe me until they saw it themselves)

or especially when u also have autism going on makes you sit in weird ways to be comfy with ur body being weird

(also ANOTHER common comorbidity is POTS which would explain the crossed legs and squatting since it subconsciously puts pressure on ur legs to help circulation and would explain all the constant falling over. if u stand up too fast u can get soooo dizzy)

(i wasnt going to include these images actually. i just screenshotted them bc they were funny but yeah. yeah what a mood)

youre not SUPPOSED to overextend ur joints just because you CAN (sad! i want to show off my Freaky Skillz!) but we all know that darcy does not care abt that. marcy wakes up and immediately is like why is all my cartilage stretched out like an overused rubber band

we stan an hsd queen

what if i made hypermobile marcy propaganda

[nightfallsystem]

i lose a tiny bit of my soul everytime i have to tw my own body

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[bunnieswithknives]

erm can we see more deer dale he's so silly

Deer Dale!!! Now with full antler face like I initially intended but could not figure out how to draw at the time

[moeblob]

Rey, who is in my very biased opinion, one of the funniest "girls" I have because she's just a guy, truly. Like Rey is just short for Reynold because he was recruited by a a goddess to help the hero she selected and the hero is conveniently Reynold's younger brother. So he agrees to help under the condition that the goddess gives him a female body for the other world. She's like "really odd flex but whatever" and gives him a female form and he's like "you know. I can't really blame anyone but myself for not specifying 'please don't turn me into a Lisa Frank personification'."

[codacheetah]

Homunculus

[treasureplcnet]

someone on the bodies production team you have to release more layout/bts pictures of charles whiteman's flat please. this is a great start but i need to know him better. particularly if it's got about as much mould as a second year uni house and if he owns as many chairs as it seems LOL

[triglycercule]

HELP I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING HELP!!! HELP!!!!! its not don yet,,,,,, eoaugh. shoutout to like the 20 coloring/rendering tips and tutorial videos i watched you all did NOTHING to help. GOD. how hard is is to get a tutorial and help for something that actually ISNT naturally intuitive to me???

waaa waaa lineart hard 🥺🥺 waaa waaa sketching hard!!! ok man how about you struggle with figuring out basic color palettes (color is my absolute worst element of art ive yet to even improve on. this backfired on me i shouldve done more coloring pages when i was younger)

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

[pangyham]

been thinking about the liyue gang and how id draw their physical builds so here are some thoughts i had for xy cy and gm in particular

- xingqiu, unsurprisingly, would be quite lanky. i like to think he has broad-ish shoulders, like a thin athlete's build? hes a long boy to me haha, long face, neck, limbs, fingers etc, so naturally hes stands (comparatively) tall at 5'6" or 5'7"

i like to think hes most physically attractive one and has that handsome princely and boyish charm to him because it adds a lot to his fuckass duality LOL

- chongyun is a lot like xiao imo! short stature but with muscular arms. he seems nimble and flexible because of his normal attack animations (which bears a lot of similarities to xiao's actually! this + the fact that chongyun's normal attacks create gusts of wind further reinforces my hc that xiao trains him). sometimes i watch high energy choreography vids on youtube and some dancers look incredibly light on their feet, almost like their body is inherently bouncy? and i imagine chongyun to have that agility to him. chongyun has a delicate face and aura and i let that bleed into my hcs for his fighting style and physical capabilities hahaha. hes kind of like a cat who's deceptively strong. as for height.. just a few inches taller than xiao, so perceptibly short at 5'4"

- ga ming my new beloved. pretty much similar to chongyun but more muscular and stronger just because he wields his claymore with ease. theres a noticeable weight different between cy and his claymore the way he lugs it up after he swings (or even other claymore users like razor who, on his last hit, bounces from impact). meanwhile ga ming literally slams his to the ground LOL. i love his movements though hes very swift and expressive and radiant.. if cy has delicate movements then ga ming's is fierce and (charmingly!) assertive

ga ming is wonderfully charismatic though, i know hes not well known in liyue harbor yet, but he seems like the type to gain a reputation from his friendliness. how could no one adore him hahaha. 5'5" for height! just between xy and xq

[tamagotchikgs]

debating whether 2 go to sleep or not

[potatobugz]

*leans against door seductively* does anyone have any tips on what to do when its hard + uncomfortable to breathe and ur heart is beating faster than normal to the point where its hard to focus on anything else