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#i l ive for this
wondashoever · 4 months
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🎹 🎼♩♪♩♬♩♪♩lalalalalaa
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corviiids · 6 months
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in the one (1) month since i watched death note for the first time i sure have been doing a fucking posting
bonus:
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girlwiththegreenhat · 2 months
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team fortress 2 finally getting rid of the bots after 5 years
work on the team fortress 2 comic continuing after 7+ years
half life 3 development looking more likely than ever with legitimate code, file, and voicework leaks referencing a new non-VR single-player game from valve featuring a HEV suit wearing protagonist and Xen creatures and concepts
shoutout to the valve fan that found the genie lamp. you a real one
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datcravat · 7 months
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Hello, I'm an artist and I make a living via public support and selling merch. Here's my art tag!
I love making fanart!!!!! Thank you very much!!!
✨ shop ✨ ✨ patreon ✨
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dawnbreakerluna · 2 months
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im utterly speechless like actually …
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cloudyydraws · 9 months
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more mario and luigi doodles but i took their mouths away
+ extra unfinished stuff under the cut
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revasserium · 6 months
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A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D
also I love your writing SOO much <3
prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed
49. stolen kisses
zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it
summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given
a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc
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one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.
“Good dinner?” he asks.
“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.
“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”
Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.
“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”
His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.
“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”
And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.
He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.
two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.
You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.
But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.
“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.
“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.
A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -
“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”
Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.
“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”
You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.
“So… I'm a report now, am I?”
But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.
“No.”
You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.
“We’re nowhere near finished.”
A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.
“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.
Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.
Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.
“Only in front of you.”
He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.
"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.
"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.
"And… see you at home.”
You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.
three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.
“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.
Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.
“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —
“Do you know what I received the award for?”
You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.
“N-no — I haven’t —“
“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”
The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.
That ice can also burn.
You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.
“Zayne —“
“I start work at a clinic next week.”
A frown creases at your temple.
“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”
Your frown deepens.
“What do you —“
“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”
At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.
“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.
Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”
“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.
“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”
The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.
“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.
“Hey, look at me.”
You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.
He looks back up with a knowing smile.
“Shall we get something to eat?”
You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”
Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”
“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”
Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.
“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”
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dawnbreakersgaze · 2 months
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slimepuparibaba · 3 months
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LnDS HCs: Sylus (General HCs)
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HI! I HAVE TOO MANY HEADCANONS FOR SYLUS SO PLEASE TAKE THEM!! THEY WILL DEFO NOT BE ACCURATE COME JULY BUT STILL IM USING WHAT SCRAPS OF INFO I HAVE RN AND IF HE TURNS OUT LIKE THIS APOLLO GAVE ME THE GIFT OF PROPHECY
IF THIS IS INACCURATE I WILL COMMIT CHAPTER 4 OKOK
GENERAL HC DUMP / PREDICTIONS (MAYBE DONT COUNT ON IT)
Okay, we all agree he comes off as the type of guy that would burn the world for you.
BUT!
Big but here.
I don't think he's a terrible boyfriend or anything. In fact, he genuinely does love you.
I believe, me personally, you are the one weakness this man has and he will treat you with care. Is the way he treats you rough around the edges and comes off a little different than most? Yes.
But he won't ever actually hurt you. He watches you from afar like a silent protector to make sure you aren't hurt, even using his Evol to make sure you STAY alive.
I personally think he might actually treat you kinda like one of his men, like an equal in terms of "you can definitely handle yourself and I know you're strong", but he'll still keep an eye on you just because you're that important to him. He trusts you.
...okay, so like, maybe not completely trust you because let's be honest here, you're kiiiinda prone to trying dumb shit on him, but it's funny. He'll forgive it. The smug bastard.
From what I've seen, he comes off cool, suave, knows what he's doing. Cocky.
Bad boy. He's a bad boy in all sense of the word.
He knows what he's doing, he's confident, he's charming. Knows what to say and do. He's also a CEO so dealing with people? Basically easy for him.
When it comes to you? He will flirt. Because he likes getting a reaction out of you.
I bet he teases you a TON. You hate him? Good. At least you have him in your thoughts.
Love is war with him. You try to scheme? He already has a counter. Man is 100 steps ahead of you, but just likes seeing you make a complete fool of yourself.
You know when he gets the upper hand he'll have that signature smirk of his that just screams "kiss me to shut me up and I'll consider this your win".
You thought Rafayel had an ego? Nah. NAH, THIS DUDE HAS AN E G O.
Sparring sessions with him are very likely. He'd probably be like "alright, but not going easy on you" or something cocky like that with a smug smirk on his face.
Man genuinely treats you as his equal though when training. Teaches you everything he knows and points out some techniques you might be rusty on.
Rizz is off the charts. He's lived in the N109 Zone and breathed it for so long. He's a sweet talker, so be prepared for him to know how to make you melt.
But also, he will actually spoil you. Will he make you work for it? Yes. He will give you an entire runaround (make you say please, make you verbalize it, etc), but he does it because he loves you.
You are genuinely his soft spot, and I CANNOT stress this enough.
The things he does in the dark are things he does FOR YOU. His reason for being REVOLVES around you, you just don't know it yet. Don't let him being the leader of Onichynus get to your head—he has method to his madness.
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twisting-in-wonderland · 10 months
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Ace has a front row seat to the soon-to-be greatest event in NRC history-
based on this pic--
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the energy this exudes will always crack me up-
heres a wip btw >_>
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fun fact! originally grim was gonna be O_O at Jamil too, but then i remembered that grim doesnt have an ounce of awareness in him rip
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clownsuu · 1 year
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The mob au just hits different. You've got such a unique art style and they're all so detailed. (I personally just love the way you draw Wally's hair for the mob au, so Curly.)
Taking an eye to be part of The Family has such implications. Like these are people who can be immediately identified by anyone who knows of The Boss. Specifically that they are part of the inner circle, direct access to Wally. This on its own is awful for a mob but it also means that they are powerful enough that the lack of a second eye would inspire fear instead of it being an exploitable weakness.
Also Wally is so Smol that he breaks the big and intimidating stereotype. This is a master of the mind rather than someone who got lucky by being muscle. He has something to offer everyone, something that is worth losing an eye through violent means.
That's what's so intriguing about this au. Everyone (or at least me) wants to know how this came to be, what does The Boss have that is worth it?
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His family.
cw mild-ish body horror
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Lil bit more of thems, a lil lightning round of mini questions iv gotten vaguely answered lmAOOO
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lawlight week day 4: confinement
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tea-tuesday · 3 months
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06/13/2024
i'm trying to strike a balance between complaining and uh... not complaining but it's so hard😭 civil procedure has come back to bite me in the ass. it was my lowest grade in law school and one of the densest/most abstract subjects i've encountered, so i am absolutely terrified and shaking in my boots. i'm staying positive, however, and will not let it crush my spirit !!!
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sadkois · 1 year
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KAZAMA & NISHIKI FT. RANDOM STUFF IVE SEEN ON THE INTERNET PT. 1
here u go @koissad (I LOVE U NISHIKI IM SORRY)
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fathomlessgaze · 7 months
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artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave
very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)
an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...
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pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.
you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”
he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.
pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”
“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?” 
you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…” 
there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.” 
while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?
“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.
“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye. 
“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.  
“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”
you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.” 
“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.” 
you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.
steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”
he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.” 
knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”
his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.” 
when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.
“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”
“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”
maybe this was always a losing battle.
“so maybe that’s what i want.”
this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods. 
your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”  
he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts. 
a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease. 
something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”
sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…
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samipekoe · 7 months
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hey guys (does a little dance)
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