#i may force myself to

[vacantgodling]

i am gonna redo aslin and i AM GONNA LIKE IT

[rabb1ttrash]

the beginning...

[chalkrub]

linocuts from recently :^)

[enemywasp]

I HATE tiktok and the Internet in general rn for the obsession with "oh this person's smellyyy" "Brother it STINKS over here" "BOO 💧🧼🧽🚿" and stuff like that. I wish I could put into words how demeaning and patronising that whole idea is and people implying anyone they don't like doesn't wash.

For one there's something grating about being insulted in a manner like we're in nursery again. But also WHY is that the go to insult. Why do you associate these things? Especially to those you deem "chronically online". Like I don't want to sound pathetic but it feels so nasty to me.

is it extreme to say this feels tied to ableism? And classism too?

[ribbononline]

So uh. I may have been on a Diancie fusion mania

[backup-papersnstuff]

It was a request from Discord.

Mutant Alejandro au by Khookn and tincannedcrow (I don't know how to tag people here and sorry for inconsistency)

[nesscuro]

a quick one but ermmm DIVA SPOTTED!!!!!!!!!

[omentu5]

[ohmysheetmetal]

[mostly] recent leafpin gijinka art dump! revamped leafy's design a bit ago so ive been drawing her more :3

[coff33andb00ks]

OSCAR + 30!!!💘💘

30: brushing against each other, linking fingers together for a second <this got slightly smutty and i'm not sorry>

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

It was supposed to be easy. PDA wasn't your thing anyway. But the closer you grew to Oscar the harder it was to not reach for him. Because when it was just the two of you, alone, you had free rein over his body. And you loved his body, could easily spend hours tracing the curves and dips of each muscle. You knew every freckle, every line. You'd learned how to touch him when he was stressed, when he was hyper, and when he was sleepy. You'd learned where and how to stroke to have him gasping your name in that deep, needy way that made your head spin.

Just as much as you loved his body, you loved his hands on yours. They could comfort, they could soothe. They could silence the constant noise in your head. They sparked flames inside you that you'd never imagined. They cradled, they caressed, they gripped, they sometimes bruised, they worshipped. It wasn't surprising to you that you got turned on just looking at his hands sometimes.

And oh, you loved his fingers. Whether they were brushing away tears or interlocked with yours while he made love to you, they were your favorite part of him. You adored the calluses, the length, the girth, even the tiny freckle most people probably weren't aware was on his thumb. They eased your soul, they combed through your hair on lazy afternoons. They teased and enticed, made you scream. They curled around yours so perfectly, as though your hands had been designed by gods to fit together, and though you may shift and move throughout the night his fingers would still be holding yours in the morning.

Right now, you want those hands. Those fingers. You don't care how, exactly, you just crave them. You need the quiet solace in the circus that was media day that only your boyfriend's hands and fingers could provide.

We'll keep it quiet, yeah? Nobody's business but ours.

You and your stupid fucking ideas. What had you been thinking, telling him you wanted your relationship to be a secret? You must have been delirious when you'd said that. Worst of all, what kind of selfish bastard would agree?

You stew in your misery, watching him use his hands to talk while he speaks with the media. You fold your arms over your chest, chewing on your lip while he juggles tennis balls with ease. He sees you watching and gives you his stupid, cheesiest grin and you almost, almost, flip him off and try to focus on your actual job, because if you don't Charles will say something he shouldn't and you don't have the energy to deal with his lack of public relation skills.

The day moves on, time seeming to go slower for some godforsaken reason, and now there's fan interactions to watch. Oscar clutching a marker should be a crime, honestly. Then there's the insanity that is getting back to the team hubs for debriefs, and he's right ahead of you, yapping away with Lando, his hands swinging with each step.

You walk a little faster, and from behind you someone calls out to Oscar. He stops and turns and you're pushed towards him by someone that you hope is blessed beyond measure for eternity.

Three seconds. Three seconds of utter peace as you're brushing against him. His eyes meet yours and you can see the love shining in them, his hand grazing yours. The warmth only he can supply is a protective bubble, his fingers twining with yours for barely a second.

The bubble is burst and you apologize to him while someone apologizes to you, and your fingers tingle as your swept away.

But at least now you're no longer miserable.

[implied-divinity]

im feeling sappy tonight. shoutout to the baby tboys begging to be forcemasced. one day you will become the man you want to be. within the kink its wonderful when another man grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you headfirst in. its wonderful to share in the joy he felt when he started. in reality know youre afraid. it takes guts to let yourself be who you want. dont take your feelings lightly and let yourself explore. you are not alone but its also up to you. take care. much love.

[askticcitobyshit]

((Jack in a dress because i realized I have free will))

[citrine-elephant]

halloween awoo rawr hiss smooch

[wimbledonstrawberry]

brat summer (holger's version)

365

[punto-png]

Fearne sketch for a warmup

[ccbatman]

what if i said hal's mom called him "hally" specifically as a play on halley's comet, huh. what if i said she did that because she knew no matter how far he went, he'd always come back to her, hm. what then.