#i'm not even tagging this with my art tag

[cats-spilled-wine]

Aaaaaand that's a wrap! I'm done with drawing the Fëanorians; at least in the same style and as companion pieces.

Here's Fëanor, on his way to commit the crime he's so infamous for. And I am so incredibly happy with my progress. Because, um, when you look at my art of Maedhros and the others, they all look incredibly... thin. So either advanced stick figures or disturbingly underfed elves... I will leave it to your imaginations.

Edit: Also, I just realised "Trouble" by Adam Jensen goes with this perfectly

P.S. Guys, thank y'all for all these nice tags you reblog with; if they were comments, I would've responded😭 but as it is, I can only say I am reading all your commentary with a face-splitting grin and clapping my hands from giddiness-overload. Your responses always make my day, even if it already is great!

[c00kietin]

did some cookie requests!! Featuring my oc!! (*^v^)

Do not repost please! Thank you <3

[berryshipbasket]

Right way to make Honey's one year anniversary + Wedding!!

Oh boy this is gonna be a big post!

Today is November 30th, which means I've been selfshipping with Jim.iny for a whole year now!! Honestly I never expected him to become such an important F/O for me but I'm so glad he did..

Because of this, I've decided that today would also be the official wedding day for me and Jim.iny! I've been so excited this whole month for this ;v;

Thank you everyone who has ever said anything nice about my selfship with him or has drawn art of us,,, I cherish every part of it thank you all soso much!! just... AGGHGH!! Thank you all so much for the support genuinely ;;

I want to thank my friends @staticshipstation @plaguedarts and @candyheartedchy for drawing these AMAZING pieces and giving me permission to post them for this day!! Thank you all I love them so much AGHG please go give these guys some love 💛💛

Here's to another year,,, full of even more bug yaoi

He's my star... and I'm his.⭐

Tag list 💛

@wulfums @retrotonix @lunarbun-ships @frozenhi-chews @cherry-bomb-ships @theselfshipcafe @gulbinggrape @darknoverse @orchidshroomgardenselfships @fenny-self-ships @rexscanonwife

[prolibytherium]

@meghnanimous

Not sure if this is serious but I will answer this for real because I've seen a lot of 'I can't even tell what's wrong with the first one' tags on this post. The first cow I drew in this thread DOES have too much muscle memory of drawing cows to accurately depict what I'm being a little hater about, but it's still not like, a good stylization of bovine anatomy.

I intentionally represented how a lot of people drop distinctive anatomical traits when drawing cows in favor of:

-eyes very close together on a separate flat plane of the face above the muzzle (rather than sticking out on the sides of a continuous sloping face)

-Giving it a doglike nose that's fairly small and/or disconnected from the lip (instead of it being a fairly broad, usually squarish structure that connects with the lip)

-lack of a poll (region of the skull between the horns, specifically an occipital crest). How dramatic a cow's poll is can vary (some come to peaks, some are flat topped) but the region on most cattle is at least distinct from the rest of the skull

-Horns that can be seen growing straight out of the plane of the skull. A cow's horns obviously Do connect to the skull, but from the sides of the poll region rather than adhering to the general slope of the crown

Here's a photo that shows how distinct a structure the poll can be and how the horns relate to it (also a very pretty cow)

So like here's a couple quick, okayish realistic taurine cattle

In my art style I would personally stylize a cow into an anthro design (changing some features to fit a humanoid body plan and to depict humanlike expressions) like this:

Or alternatively here's another go at the cutesy style I did to be an asshole, this time with bovine features:

There's no actual 'wrong way' to draw an imaginary creature such as a Furry and no matter how much I try I cannot stop anyone from drawing a slightly modified dog with horns and calling it a cow, but like, no fun allowed learn to draw ungulates etc etc

I hate when furries draw cows like this

No fun allowed learn how to draw ungulates or die by my blade

[dreildream]

"Awesome, super cool, and like, totally awesome. Like really awesome."

[polterwasteist]

amandian or shaymandian for ian’s day? 👀👀

I swear I was about to go to sleep when I saw this and I couldn't leave like this because Ian's queer agenda is much more important-

Both? Both? Both.

Both is good

[peanut-butter-fox]

they're so calm about this

so I did a redraw of the first nuzi art I ever made to celebrate its anniversary

which to this day, has the highest note count out of anything else I've posted (1,911 as I'm writing this), and I think that's kinda hilarious

like ah yes, I seem to have reached my peak with my very first post on this platform (JOKING- VERY MUCH JOKING- I'M NOT UPSET ABOUT IT AT ALL IT'S GENUINELY SO FUNNY TO ME)

it was even one of the top posts in the biscuitbites tag for a little bit at one point which is wild

I specifically remember telling my friends that N was also silently freaking out in the old version, and I wanted to make that a little more clear this time around dkjvdbjvd

this is the first fandom I've been in and I've managed to stick around for a year- ...if we don't count me lurking at first (y'know, just for a tiny little bit- only since cabin fever dropped- which is only likeee 7 monthssss? almost 8)

okay anyways

I've been having a lot of fun here so,

thank you Glitch, Liam, and the Murder Drones fandom :) 💛💜

the silly robots mean a lot to me

and you guys really helped me come out of my shell when it comes to sharing my art with anyone 💖

[psychomusic]

okay i tried to write it in the tags but it got too messy and long. HI I STUDY ART HISTORY AND CULTURAL HERITAGE and i have an idea to interpret it but I'm not familiar with mando lore so i need someone to like review it lol

cubism aims (between many things + I'm generalizing because there are obv different phases and interpretations of it by diff artists) to show an object through different times. you can never see a "full" chair - you're always gonna see one side of it. you have to walk around it or move it around to see the entirety of the chair. cubists (or at least some of them) make you see all sides of the chair in one moment. it's a "distortion" of space and time. (obv it's a lot more than this and much more complex but this is what i wanna highlight for my interpretation)

so. cubism in star wars obv didn't arise in the context of 20th century avantguarde. if cubism is the style developed by their culture, maybe this way of dealing with the representation of time depends on how the mandalorians understand and narrate time. (again I'm not familiar with mando lore so tell me if it makes 0 sense) they could, for example, see time as something rather still, instead of moving on a line or a circle like we do: they could believe that in every moment there is everything that there will be and that already has been - everything that is present now was present back then and will be present in the future. in this context that sees "time as a capsule" the sacking represented is not one specific sacking, and debating on which sacking it was would be futile. what's more artistically interesting would be what "core truth" do mandos see and choose to represent on wall that the event stands for. it's more interesting to see what it says about how mandalorians see themselves.

(also just. fyi, this idea of trying to figure out what specifically a painting or an art in general is representing is an idea that is deeply rooted into western's understanding of art - the idea of copying and representing reality, in this sense, is not common in places where the greeks' understanding of art didn't arrive)

in the case of this painting, the center is taken by a giant mandalorian towering even higher than the biggest ecumenopolis in the galaxy, towering over defeated enemies that stand for some of the biggest institutions of their time (jedi and republic). this speaks tons on how mandalorians see themselves - they're literally the biggest in the galaxy, the strongest, the best, the most powerful and fearful. it's interesting though that there isn't a bunch of mandalorians in group that tower over everything but one big mando. this showcases of how tight their sense of community and identity are. they represent themselves as one. they're so connected with each other that they have no problem in representing themselves as just one individual. maybe, but it's a stretch, it's them acting as one big individual that made them so bigger than everyone and everything else.

on the topic of halos and christian imagery, i'd like to point out that in some art history spaces it's believed that halos are an evolution of some tactics to distinguish people (specifically emperors) in big and messy roman narrative reliefs like Trajan's triumphal column or Marcus Aurelius's: they're so full of people it's hard to distinguish the scenes and characters. (I'll put some images to make it clearer)

this was the average complexity of a scene. these columns are like 30 meters high. it'd be impossible to distinguish the emperor from a soldier (even with the original colors) at such distance. so they decided that the emperor would be isolated from the rest of the people, who were "pressed together" - he'd be on the foreground with no one behind him (because if there was, their head would pop out from behind his shoulders) and no one pressed on his sides (or just their successor or someone that needed to be "praised" on the side). this left a sort of void around the emperor, especially the head. as this need to distinguish the emperor from the rest grew (with time, roman emperors became more and more autocratic and at some point they introduced the divine right to reign) this void started to be emphasized with colors like gold (used often for divine or important beings). when christians started to make their art, they "copy-pasted" many of this pagan systems to resematicize them (it must've had a big effect back then) and then, gradually, with time, we started to associate these symbols with christianity. MAYBE mandalorians had a similar story (or have similar story)

like. maybe they have clan or family based art that uses these tactics to highlight the leader that guides the clan (if i remember correctly, sabine's mom was the leader of her clan and pre visla was a sort of head figure for death watch, so, i figured mandos do have quite the sense of hierarchy that they'd highlight in art) and this got translated into identitary paintings to highlight their greatness even further.

if anything is going to move me to watch the clone wars it's finding out there's a goddamn star wars version of picasso's gernika painting. i am going to lose my mind. what the fuck could this possibly mean in the context of star wars

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Blondes, feet, bowl-cut guardian lady.

He did not, they never had sex. But he was in love with her.

For sure. I think she struck him more like a teenager with the black hair and bangs, after the change (both visual and in attitude) she became a far more mature AND attractive person in his eyes.

PFFT, well, if you're saying they meet ALL of the criteria, I assume you mean both in looks and personality and hence be damn near his soulmate. DU drow could overlook weird feet (and a lot of other things, actually) if he were in love with the person in question. He would probably gently request they take better care of them, though.

Nothing special there, I'm afraid! He just has human-like skin - perhaps a little on the oily side but completely within the bounds of normality.

He runs a little hot, if that's anything. Oh! His hair is shockingly soft.

Correct! DU drow only (arguably) looks like a drow. He doesn't have their usual bone structure, height, or associated magical proclivities. He has some dark vision but its nowhere near as good as a drow's either.

I don't necessarily think all Bhaalspawn are the same way, but the Dark Urge IS quite different from the previous game's iterations. DU isn't simply Bhaal's child conceived with a partner, he's a piece of the god that supposedly slobbed off and grew legs and a face, pretty much. So yes, I do think that the Dark Urge at least is it's own unique thing.

The reason why he looks like a drow, is because he was placed in the Underdark upon creation. The metaphor I always use here is that if you place something infantile in a biome that is alien to it, it may try to adapt to it's environment to survive as it develops, to different degrees of success. This is why DU drow looks the way he does.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

You're welcome!

I've received a few snippets here that you can find through the #gift art tag! There is also the fic I'm in the process of writing called A Novel Experience on AO3.

It was just something I was compelled to do when I first drew him! The facial scars felt like they should lead into something else so I just made up a pattern on the spot, minus a tiny tweak here or there, it has stuck basically unchanged. All and any lore relating to the scars came later.

I get a lot of sweet messages but "thanks for your man's penis size" has to be one of my favorites. Thank you!

HELLO!

Thank you so much for the kind message! And that sounds like a fun dream, I love that your Tav got jealous of the attention ASTARION was receiving instead of mad that he had to share in the first place LOL

DU drow is desperately monogamous. He doesn't care what other people do with their lives but he's very much a "one and done" kind of person.

He would be willingly to participate in a threeway/have group sex with a partner, assuming the rules and regulations of said encounter were laid out clearly before or at least mutually understood between them. He would never want to see these people again after the fact though.

She does not, naturally I had no idea that this character was going to turn into anything when i made him, so I just... Made a lady. And since she was supposed to be a "guardian" I gave her a Joan of Arc type of look.

I've occasionally thought about changing this, but... Y'know, sometimes you don't need lore to be that in-depth, LOL.

The emperor gave everyone else a nondescript hottie he assumed they would trust, DU drow just got the same treatment. She's not even DU drow's type but definitely someone he would be compelled to take seriously yet not feel threatened by - so ultimately, her design does make sense.

---

That's all I have the energy for tonight folks, as always thank you for the many encouraging and sweet messages you send me, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of them! 😭

Have yourselves a great week!

[leftoverghosts]

i am drowning

there is no sign of land.

Patrick's announcement hit you like a tennis ball to the gut. He had just gotten back from winning the junior US Open, but instead of celebrating together, he was ending things between you. The sharp sting of disappointment cut through your heart as you struggled to make sense of it all. This wasn't the end of your relationship, though.

patrick zweig x reader. patrick x tashi. mentioned tashi x art.

warnings: angst. like angst for the sake of angst. sex at the end. some curse words. not for minors. p in v sex. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. patrick sleeps with reader for a bed.

nori says: hiiiiiii, i've been lurking in the challengers tag and now have something to contribute. this is heavily inspired by the break up scene in whiplash. it just feels so patrick coded. also, i love tashi, it's not her fault that the boys were weird about her. send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.

word count: 4,818

2006, September. Per Se Restaurant, Manhattan.

“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend.” Art had told Tashi, and Patrick had responded with “I do not”.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe your dad let us use his reservations. This is the coolest thing ever! I feel so grown up,” a cheerful voice interrupts Patrick’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. Sitting across from you now, celebrating his triumphant win at the Junior US Open, he can't ignore the guilt and doubts that gnaw at him. Though you were never officially a couple, there were undeniable feelings between you two and Patrick had pursued you relentlessly. He couldn't resist your sweetness, especially since you’ve been friends for so long and despite being just a teenage boy with wandering eyes fixed on tennis skirts, even he understands that you genuinely care about him.

Patrick thinks with all the agony that the thing between his legs can muster, that he’s an asshole, that he shouldn’t of fucked up this situationship only to chase after a girl who made him compete for her attention. Part of him hates himself for betraying your trust and pining after someone else, but the other part of him is drawn to Tashi in a way he can't explain. She gets him, but more importantly, she understands true tennis.

Patrick fidgets with his cup of water, tracing your name on the condensation as if it holds some sort of salvation. But deep down, he knows that no amount of apologies or excuses can change what he has done.

"Listen, I have to be honest with you," Patrick finally speaks up, his voice strained with emotion.

You pause, feeling a sense of unease settle in your stomach as you wait for him to continue.

"I can't keep pretending that this is going to work out. My dreams of becoming a professional tennis player are consuming more and more of my time and focus. And when I am with you, all I can think about is training and winning matches."

As his confession sinks in, your world tilts on its axis. The realization hits you with startling clarity - his passion for tennis surpasses everything else in his life, casting a shadow over what bloomed between you. You always knew that tennis was important to Patrick, but you never fully understood just how significant it was until now. Your mind flashes back to all the times you thought tennis was just a hobby for him, a way to cope with his parents' high expectations. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you realize that this is not how you imagined your relationship with Patrick ending. You try to hold back your emotions, but they overflow despite your best efforts.

"You'll probably start feeling like I'm ignoring you and get mad that tennis is more important to me than our relationship," he continues, regret evident in his eyes. "And if you ask me to ease up on my training, I won't be able to comply because this is my passion. It's what I was born to do."

"Where is this coming from, Pat?" you ask, your voice trembling with hurt. You had never wanted to come between Patrick and his dreams, but now it seems like there was no other option.

“It’s been building up for a while.” In the midst of shattered expectations and unspoken regrets, Patrick's gaze meets yours fleetingly before retreating, unable to withstand the weight of your hurt and disappointment. The truth hangs heavy in the air - priorities laid bare, futures diverging like roads leading into different horizons. "Because sooner or later, we will start resenting each other for not understanding our priorities. It's better to end things now before they turn toxic."

"I can't believe this, I thought we were in this together." Your palms are clammy and your heart races as you try to process everything. You had been nothing but supportive of him, rearranging your schedule whenever he came home from the academy just to spend time with him. But now he’s telling you that it wasn't enough.

"We were, but I wanna be one of the greats.” He sighs.

“And would I stand in your way?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I would, you're sure about that?” You ask, wishing this would just stop. “Yes.” He reaches out to take your hand, but you pull away, unable to bear his touch after what he's done. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his face contorted with guilt and sadness, and the knowledge that he’s a liar. That this conversation is only happening because he’s chasing greatness and Tashi Duncan.

"I'm just a naive girl to you, aren't I? Someone who will never measure up to your grand ambitions.” As the words tumbled out of your mouth, your voice quivers with hurt and disbelief. You couldn't comprehend how someone that you love could make you feel so worthless. “You'll leave me behind as you chase after greatness," you cried out, feeling utterly small and insignificant in his eyes. “You don’t understand me. You never have." His accusation is like sharp, dagger-like punctuation mark, ready to cut off any lingering hopes and pierce through the heart of your relationship.

You look at him, feeling a mix of anger and heartache. "Why did you even bother pursuing me then? If your tennis career was always going to come first?"

"I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never should have said those things."

His apology hangs in the air, hollow and insufficient. The bustling restaurant fades into the background as you try to comprehend the sudden change in your reality.

"Sorry doesn't fix this, Patrick," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick runs a hand through his curly hair, frustration etched across his face. "I know, I know. I'm messing everything up. It's just... there's so much pressure. The tennis, my parents, the academy. And now..."

He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You lean forward, searching his face.

"And now what, Pat? What aren't you telling me?"

Patrick's blue eyes meet yours for a moment before darting away. "There's someone else," he admits quietly.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, each shard piercing your chest with unbearable pain. The revelation hits you like a serve you never saw coming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You struggle to find words, your mind reeling from the betrayal.

"Someone else?" you finally manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation around you. "Who?"

Patrick shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. "Her name is Tashi. We met at a party after the tournament. She's... she understands tennis in a way that—"

The name strikes a chord of recognition. Tashi Duncan. You've heard whispers about her – the rising star in the tennis world, known for her fierce determination and unmatched skill on the court. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The late-night phone calls, the distracted looks, the growing distance between you and Patrick

"That I never could," you finish for him, bitter understanding washing over you. Of course. Of course it would be someone from his world, someone who could match his ambition step for step.

"I think she could make me really happy," Patrick says, his voice pleading for you to just get it.

“You know, I really do hope that you make it. I hope you get to be number one or whatever,” You let out a wet scoff, he could have at least let you finish your meal. “But I’m glad that I’ll never understand you, Patrick.”

With those words, the conversation comes to a halt as you both sit in stunned silence. The waitress brings over your food, but neither of you have an appetite anymore. Patrick pushes his plate away, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. He realizes now that breaking things off like this is a mistake, he’s a coward, he shouldn’t have met up with you in person.

2019, August. Parking lot of a Roadside motel, New Rochelle.

Patrick slams his fist against the side of his beat-up Volkswagen Tiguan in frustration, feeling the sting of anger and disappointment course through him. His phone remains pressed to his ear, waiting for you to pick up, but it rings on with no answer. He begins and deletes a desperate text to you, twice, before finally you're calling back and he answers on the first ring. “Hey! Got a weird favor to ask you. Your new place is near Westchester, right?” His voice trembles with nervousness as he taps his fingers anxiously against the car door.

“A whole year, that’s a new record for you. Run out of money already?”

“Shit,” he swears under his breath, trying to use some charm or magic to convince you. “You know how the tour goes. I’ve been struggling to stay afloat. But uh, how’ve you been?” He forces a smile through the grimace as he thinks about his current financial state - a checking account with only $70 left. It’s a far cry from the greatness he once promised he was leaving you to pursue.

“Go to hell, Patrick.” The line goes dead and he pulls the phone away from his face, staring at it in disbelief as if willing you to call back. He knows you, so he waits anxiously until a notification with your name appears again on the screen, accompanied by a new address.

Same day. Private residence, Bronxville.

Everyone knows that Patrick's parents have stopped providing financial support for him, and even though your own father would be furious if he knew you were aiding this deadbeat, you can't bring yourself to let him go without. It's only the occasional bit of cash for gas or food, but Patrick always finds a way to repay you in ways that you didn’t even know you needed. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you that hangs heavily in the air.

Despite everything, you can't turn him away completely, even knowing he will never truly change. Tennis is his first, great love and with the Donaldsons in town, you can't help but think Tashi might still be his second. And you, you are nothing more than a temporary lifeline – a benefactor to someone who will never truly appreciate your sacrifices.

His heart races with guilt and desperation as he parks his car and approaches your door. He knows he doesn't deserve your help, but the familiarity of these meetings brings a sense of safety.

You watch from your living room window as Patrick's battered Volkswagen pulls into your driveway. The sight of him emerging from the car, all scruffy charm and desperate energy, sends a familiar pang through your chest. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter to come.

As Patrick approaches, you open the door before he can knock. He stands there, looking simultaneously sheepish and hopeful, his eyes searching your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "Thanks for... you know."

You scoff at his attempt at gratitude, your bitterness cutting through the air like a knife. "Is that supposed to be a thank you? I didn't know you knew how to use manners," you retort, your tone dripping with resentment. It's not like you to be so angry, but Patrick always has a way of bringing out the worst in you.

You step aside, allowing him to enter and close the door after him. Patrick's eyes dart around your new place, taking in the tasteful decor and the obvious signs of your success.

"Nice place," he comments, his voice tinged with a hint of envy.

You shrug, maintaining your emotional distance. "It serves its purpose."

Patrick nods, fidgeting with the hem of his worn t-shirt. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and shared history.

At thirty-two years old, in the final stages of your cardiology fellowship, your father still treats you like a child who is expected to become an astronaut neurosurgeon, or some other fantastical career straight out of a Barbie movie. Meanwhile, your mother constantly laments about not having any grandchildren to spoil, as if that is the sole purpose of your existence. You often snap back with sarcastic remarks, such as suggesting that your cat could use a new diamond-encrusted bowl, a sharp retort that only serves to deepen the tension between you. The truth is, you yearn for an escape just like Patrick did. If you had any talent for tennis, you would have run away long ago.

Patrick clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "I, uh... I really appreciate you helping me out. I know I don't deserve it, after everything."

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're right. You don't deserve it. But here we are."

He takes a step closer, his gaze intense and pleading. "I never meant to hurt you. Everything just got so complicated, with tennis and Art and Tashi and—"

"Don't." You hold up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear about her. Or about tennis. I’m not sixteen drooling over you anymore. I don’t need to pretend that I care. That's your world, Patrick. It always has been."

He looks down, shame and regret etched across his handsome features. "I know. I fucked up. I fuck everything up."

Despite your anger and resentment, a part of you softens at his vulnerability. You've known Patrick for so long, seen him at his best and his worst. And even after all the heartbreak, there's still a connection between you that refuses to die.

"Why do you keep coming back here, Pat?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why me?"

Patrick lifts his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, you're transported back to that fateful dinner at Per Se, when your world first began to crumble.

"Because you're the only one who really knows me," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "The only one who sees past the bullshit and the bravado. Even when I don't deserve it."

Your heart clenches at his words, the irony in them isn’t lost on you.

“I still hate you.” You say as you step forward and wrap your arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. Patrick stiffens for a moment before melting into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "For everything."

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment of vulnerability, of connection. Tomorrow, you'll go back to your separate lives - you to your fellowship and the weight of your parents' expectations, Patrick to his endless pursuit of tennis glory and the shadow of Art Donaldson. But tonight, in the quiet of your home, you can pretend that things are different, that the choices you've made haven't led you down such divergent paths.

As the embrace lingers, the air between you shifts, charged with a familiar tension. Patrick pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, asking a silent question. Your breath catches in your throat as his gaze drops to your lips, and you know what comes next.

It's a dance you've done before, a temporary escape from the harsh realities of your lives. And as Patrick leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you let yourself surrender to the moment, pushing aside the hurt and resentment that has festered for so long. His hands roam your body with a desperate urgency, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour before this fleeting connection inevitably fades away.

You melt into his touch, your own hands tangling in his curly black hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, a clash of tongues and teeth. Patrick's fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the soft skin of your waist.

A moan escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes rational thought. You tug at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the physicality of the moment.

Patrick responds in kind, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck as you head towards the bedroom. You stumble together, a tangle of limbs and half-shed clothing, until you fall onto the bed in a heap.

For a moment, you stare at each other, chests heaving, eyes dark with want. His lips trail scorching kisses down your neck, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin.

"Pat," you gasp, arching into his touch as his hands touch wherever they can reach.

He pauses, hovering above you, his eyes dark with desire and something more, something akin to regret. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained. "Tell me you don't want this."

But you can't. Because despite everything, the hurt and the anger and the years of distance, you do want this. You want him, even if it's just for tonight, even if it's a mistake you'll regret come morning.

"Don't stop," you breathe, pulling him back down to you.

Your shirt is discarded, followed by your bra, as Patrick's hands and mouth map the newly exposed skin. He lavishes attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple until they peak into hardened buds. You writhe beneath him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as the pleasure builds.

Patrick's lips trail lower, blazing a path down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, glancing up at you through his lashes, silently seeking permission. You lift your hips in response, and he tugs the denim down your legs, taking your panties with them.

Exposed and vulnerable, you fight the urge to cover yourself, to hide from the intensity of his gaze. But Patrick looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, his eyes filled with a reverence that steals your breath.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his hands skimming up your thighs, spreading them wider. "I never deserved you."

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your most sensitive spots. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he works you with expert precision, stoking the fire that burns within you.

Patrick slips a finger inside you, then two, curling them just so as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body tensing in anticipation.

"Pat, I'm going to—" you gasp, your words cut off by a moan as he redoubles his efforts, determined to unravel you completely.

And then you're shattering, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Patrick works you through it, his fingers and tongue gentling as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks.

He crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses to your skin as he goes. When he reaches your lips, you taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of the intimacy you've just shared.

"I need you," you whisper against his mouth, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. "Please, Patrick."

He helps you undress him, kicking off his jeans and boxers until he's as bare as you are. His erection springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach, and you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, reveling in the velvety softness of his skin.

Patrick groans at your touch, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Condom," he grits out, reaching for his discarded basketball shorts.

You wait impatiently as he rolls the latex over his length, your body thrumming with anticipation. When he settles between your thighs again, the blunt head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. Your breath hitches as he slowly pushes forward, stretching you deliciously as he fills you inch by inch. A low moan escapes your lips at the exquisite sensation of him inside you, his thick length pulsing with need.

Patrick stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "God, you feel incredible," he rasps, his voice strained with desire. "I've missed this. Missed you."

The confession tugs at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, the love that never quite died despite the pain and the years apart. You cling to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.

He begins to move then, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm that builds in intensity with each thrust. You meet him stroke for stroke, your bodies moving in perfect sync, as if no time has passed at all. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the mingled gasps and moans, the whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Patrick's mouth finds yours again, his kisses deep and demanding, as if he's trying to pour all of his unspoken emotions into the press of his lips. Your fingers tangle in his curly black hair, tugging lightly as the pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter within you.

He shifts the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. Patrick hisses at the sting, but it only seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more forceful.

"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come around me."

Obediently, you slip a hand between your bodies, feeling the heat and sweat radiating off of Patrick's skin. Your fingers glide lazily over his chest and down towards the area of need. However, unsatisfied with your own rhythm, Patrick's fingers boldly enter your mouth, collecting the saliva and making you involuntarily gag. Without hesitating, his fingers make their way back down to their intended destination, gently nudging yours out of the way. His thumb finds your clit, tracing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation sends electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your inner walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.

You arch into his touch, your hands now exploring the hard planes of his chest, tracing the lines of his happy trail.

As Patrick moves within you, his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that this means something more than a temporary escape, a fleeting connection in the midst of your fractured lives. But deep down, you know the truth.

This is all you can ever have with Patrick - stolen moments of passion, brief respites from the weight of your respective burdens. Tomorrow, you'll go back to being strangers, two people whose paths diverged long ago, held together only by the tenuous threads of history and desire.

With each deep thrust, Patrick stokes the fire building within you, pushing you closer to the brink of release. The fingers of his other hand dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he drives into you with increasing urgency, chasing his own climax.

"I'm close," he pants, his breath hot and ragged. "Give me another one. Come with me, baby. I’ve got you."

The endearment slips out unbidden, a echo of the past, of the tender moments you once shared. It's enough to send you tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around him as euphoria floods your senses. Patrick follows a heartbeat later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he spills himself inside you, his hips jerking erratically with the force of his release.

As your breathing slows and reality seeps back in, the weight of your history, of all the unspoken words and unresolved hurt, settles heavily in the room. Patrick rolls off of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing onto the mattress and pulling you to him.

For a long moment, you lie tangled together, chests heaving, hearts racing in sync. Patrick's weight is a comforting presence, his face buried in the crook of your neck as the aftershocks of pleasure gradually subside.

But as the haze of desire dissipates, reality begins to seep in, cold and unforgiving. You feel Patrick tense against you, his body growing rigid as the magnitude of what you've done settles over him. He moves away from you, tugging on his boxers in swift, mechanical movements.

The silence that stretches between you is heavy with unspoken regrets, with the bitter knowledge that this changes nothing. You pull the sheet up to cover your nakedness, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the harsh light of aftermath.

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the familiar lines of his profile, the curl of his lashes against his cheek. "What are we doing, Pat?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I don't know," he admits, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I just... I needed this. Needed you."

Your heart clenches at his words, a bittersweet mix of longing and resignation. You know you should put a stop to this, to the cycle of hurt and temporary solace that keeps bringing you back together. But the pull between you is too strong, the history too deep.

"I can't keep being your escape, Patrick," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I can't keep pretending that this means something more than it does."

He turns to face you then, his lake blue eyes searching yours, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in their depths. "What if it could?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if we could make it mean something more?"

For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it - a life where you and Patrick find a way to bridge the gap between your worlds, to build something real and lasting. But the dream fades as quickly as it forms, the harsh realities of your lives intruding once more.

"I wish things could be different," Patrick murmurs, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "I wish I could be the man you deserve."

Your eyes search his face for a glimmer of the boy you once knew, the one who stole your heart with his reckless charm and unbridled ambition. "We both made our choices, Pat," you whisper, your fingers reaching over to brush a stray curl from his forehead. "We can't go back.”

Patrick moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to you, shoulders hunched with the weight of his thoughts. You watch him, your heart aching with a familiar longing, a desperate wish for things to be different.

“I don’t even know what you really want from me. I doubt you do either. You’re just latching onto me because I’m something steady to grab a hold of.” Your voice is soft, tentative. “Look at me, Pat.”

He flinches at the sound of his name, as if the mere utterance is a painful reminder of the intimacy you've just shared. "Don't," he says, his tone flat, emotionless. "Please, just… don't."

You swallow back the words that threaten to spill out, the confessions and pleas that will only fall on deaf ears. Because you know, deep down, that Patrick will never be yours, not in the way you want him to be. His heart belongs to the court, to the thrill of the game, to the relentless pursuit of greatness that has consumed him for as long as you've known him. And the more it alludes him, the more desperate he is to obtain it.

And you? You're just a temporary port in the storm, a fleeting respite from the chaos of his life. A reminder of the girl he left behind, the love he sacrificed on the altar of his ambition.

Patrick stands abruptly, reaching for his discarded clothes. He dresses quickly, efficiently, his movements sharp and purposeful. You watch him in silence, a lump forming in your throat as the weight of the moment settles over you.

“Will you stop?” You sit up, pulling the blanket around you. “Just sleep here for tonight, Pat. You’re being difficult for no reason.”

Patrick's steps falter as he turns to you, his grip tight on the fabric of his shirt. His face is a mix of anger and frustration, but then it transforms into a vulnerable expression that catches you off guard. He runs a hand through his hair before letting out a heavy sigh. "I know I shouldn't ask after what happened between us...but will you come watch me play tomorrow?"

[unetherian]

List of gear ideas because masks and tails are not the only ones that exist

[ PT : List of gear ideas because masks and tails aren't the only ones that exist]

Hi ! Here is a list of all the gears I know and can imagine, I will extend the list as my ideas come!

I mostly know gears for therians, so I apologize to those who don't recognize themselves in the list.

If you are looking for gift ideas for a therian friend, if you want to make yourself a new discreet gear to not attract attention, or on the contrary you are trying to find an original gear to express yourself freely in public, I recommend this list!

Happy reading!

Gears that can be worn :

⚝Mask

A classic: I'm talking about the masks that we see everywhere on YouTube shorts and TikTok. Simple and effective. Plus it's a beautiful art, it doesn't surprise me that many are fans of creating it!

⚝Muzzle-mask, beak-mask

These masks are much less known, but I dream of having one one day! It is a mask that covers the lower part of the face, to make it look like a snout or a beack. Unfortunately there aren't many tutorials (on YouTube anyway)

⚝Fur tails

Another great classic, I would pay good money to have one! It's so... perfect. But be careful! Don't buy tails anywhere! Most of the time they come from very cruel fur farms, so I advise you to watch the videos of Torn (therian territory) or PD on the subject to recognize an ethical or cruel tail.(These channels are on youtube) I swear to you that even dyed or so-called "fake" tails can be real and cruel... Be careful!

⚝Collar

Very effective if you are an alter/nonhuman whose type is domesticated ! And even if you are not, it can symbolize your nonhuman identity stuck/domesticated in a human world. There is a more discreet alternative, if you prefer: chokers! I have one that I made myself with black ribbon and a bracelet clasp. I sometimes add a pendant that looks like a small collar tag !

⚝Fake ears

So cool and often so realistic...

⚝Gloves/mittens

This can make your human paw look like your type's paw!

⚝Paw socks

Very comfortable and very euphoric. I like it.

⚝Shoes

I've seen some amazing digigrade shoes before (to give you an idea of what it looks like, it's a heeled shoe without a heel) including shoes that look like clogs, but there are some for many different species !

I've also seen beings make lines on the white part of their converse to make it look like paws !!!

⚝Different shapes of pants

If your type is imposing, you can opt for cargo pants! For theriotypes with long and thin legs, but big hooves/paws, I recommend flared pants! (I think that's what it's called in English)

I have species dysphoria about not being as big and impressive as my theriotype, but since I started wearing cargo pants and other baggy pants, I feel more confident.

⚝Fake horns, fake antlers

Awwww those are so cute

⚝Wings

Attached to the arms for birds, on the back for dragons/insects!

It's one of the most gorgeous types of gears, and I imagine it's very effective.

⚝Contact lenses

To change the color of your eye, the shape of your pupil, etc.

⚝Makeup

I don't know if you can really consider this a gear but put a little eye shadow under the nose, a line in the little hollow that connects the nose to the mouth, and black lipstick on the upper lip can be very euphoric for some! Of course there are many other different makeup looks for all types... And don't forget, makeup is not for girls, it's for the skin✨

⚝Nails (claws)

I really like growing my nails out, cutting them into almond shapes so they look like claws. No need to grow them out a lot, or make them very prickly, do as you like!

You can also use fake nails!

⚝Paper claws

There are a lot of different tutorials on youtube, usually they are in origami, so I hope you like folding paper ^^'

⚝Legs/arms warmers

To feel like you have fur on your arms/legs, to protect myself from the cold. I made some out of wool, crocheted.

⚝Kigurumi !

A very comfortable and cute little costume, I would really like to have one! For those who don't know, it's a kind of very soft one-piece pajamas with a hood. On this hood there are sometimes animal ears, sometimes horns, at the back there is sometimes a tail, etc. there are some for many different species!

⚝Claw ring

Rings that look like claws. This is so cool! I'm going to buy some soon!

⚝Any accessory with a theta delta on it

Of course !

⚝Any accessory that represents your type

Of course too

⚝Pin's

There are some really cool pins on theriantropy, I recommend it.

⚝Mermaid tail

I've seen costumes like this before, I think the cetacean therians and mermaidkin might like it.

⚝Tattoo

Whether it's a temporary or permanent tattoo, it can be a great way to get closer to your type. Having your identity or the symbol of it on your body can be very pleasant! I even saw someone with his type's fur pattern tattooed on his shoulder.

I just want to clarify that if you want to get a permanent tattoo, I advise you to think carefully about the location, the shape, etc. to be sure.

Other gears:

⚝Objects that remind you of your habitat as your type

To recreate the atmosphere of your habitat in your house/room!

⚝Figurine of your type

It's funny to have a minarure yourself

⚝Blanket whose texture reminds you of your type's fur

Very comforting

⚝Feathers!

I have a collection of feathers at home, I'm not a bird therian but it gives me a "predatory pleasure" to have a piece of prey as a trophy at home! (Without harming an animal, of course! I pick up these feathers from the ground)

⚝Stickers

I will probably give a tutorial later on how to create your own stickers, I will also make drawings to cut out to transform into stickers.

⚝Drawings, paintings, etc. of your type

Art is a great way to express yourself!

⚝A mineral/crystal that is associated with your type

In many cultures, stones are associated with animals. Some even use them for meditation.

Did you know that amber is prehistoric tree resin that has hardened over time? I think this fun fact will please paleotherians ;3

⚝A book about your type or its habitat

Read up on your own species to learn more about yourself.

⚝A prey of your type in plush form!

To hunt or nibble in we get bored.

⚝An object that diffuses the scent of your type's habitat

It could be an essential oil diffuser, a potpourri, or just anything that smells like the forest, for example.

Here are all the ideas I have right now, don't forget I'll add more later, there are so many different types of gears!

Have a nice day!

[thunder-wolf64]

Because I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one having issues with sleep, I'm going to share a resource my therapist showed me.

It's a podcast you are supposed to listen to when you're falling asleep. They read classic bed time storys and unique short stories on a large amount of genres! Some have built in ambiance, I like the ones with rain sounds.

It's called "Get sleepy podcast": here is their website!

It's available on many platforms. I listen to it on YouTube personally. It's been a good resource to calm myself down and fall asleep. I usually don't remember when I fall asleep, but let's just say I never get through the first few intro paragraphs lol. Though I don't have much trouble falling asleep, it's been staying asleep, but it's still nice to wake up listening to the hour plus of background music after the story has finished.

Taging a bunch of people ik bc everyone deserves some good sleep. I don't know if all of you have sleeping issues, but it's worth spreading the word imo. I recommend trying it once, even for just a nap. It's nice to look forward to stroy time !

@churrorat-art @t00nyah @harperfrost @angelofchaos001 @doodlebug091 @bucketofboxes @mushroominaforest @glowingvoid @fauwa @damaskus6 @kalivasquez @sleepyc63 @quiww @kaceyunderfell @indiestsnake @vo1dsea @ins0mnia-owy @ammonitetheseaserpent @artistakai @soupless-soup @f3r4l-p3r1dot @thegroovyskull (hope my old SU moots don't mind the surprise tag lol)

[ecoterrorist-katara]

meta list + blog nav

turns out most of my metas are just me being salty about the way Bryan and Mike wrote Katara...more news at 11...

Katara’s parentification

the tragedy of Katara’s parentification & (context: parentified children as maladjusted children)

Katara’s crush on Jet

Toph brings out Katara’s inner child & Toph and Suki as people Katara didn't have to take care of

Katara’s post-ATLA arc

Katara didn’t want a quiet life after the war

Katara was a role model and her post-ATLA arc is a failure in representation

Katara being the Chief of the SWT wouldn't conflict with LOK's plot or her relationship

Katara would’ve been an amazing diplomat

Why Katara’s specific healer career didn’t fit her character

bloodbending & why Katara banning it could be in character in a sad way

Zutara & Zutara discourse

Zutara, romance novels, & the female gaze

“Zutara is a self-insert ship” is not a burn, it’s just misogyny

Is Zutara colonizer x colonized: my serious take, my less serious take

the crystal catacombs & how Katara sees Zuko’s pain

Zutara's two distinct ship dynamics

Why I think the way Ka/taang is written is male gaze-y

(KA is just one of those "bitch eating crackers" ships for me...block the #anti kataang tag if you don't want to see it)

Ka/taang: friends-to-lovers or the friend zone?

How Ka/taang is written to be one-sided

Aang’s not a “feminist icon” because the only stereotypically masculine part of his arc is his romance

Misc. character stuff (not just ATLA)

Aang's nuances beyond "sunshine boy"

Rethinking Hama's storyline + some thoughts on the symbolism of bloodbending

Some thoughts on Hermione being autistic coded & her flaws

Blog housekeeping/tags navigation under the cut

Tag Navigation

asks are tagged #can i ask you a question (yeah that's a TSwift ref even though there's minimal Tayposting on this blog); all my metas are tagged #my meta; Zutara fic recs are tagged #zutara fic recs. #zutara and other ship tags (e.g. #azutara) usually contain art, misc ship things, and metas

frequently used salty tags include #anti kataang, #anti bryke, and #katara deserved better

Original posts that involve analysis of Harry Potter are tagged #ref: hp for blocking purposes. I don’t financially support JKR or her harmful rhetoric & actions against trans people, but I choose to engage with parts of the HP fandom that reject her views. In the HP context, I am most likely to talk about #hermione granger. I like Dramione, but I also like Ron quite a lot. I'm very into Wolfstar.

Fundraisers

I post fundraisers that have been verified by third parties. Unfortunately I don't have the bandwidth to verify fundraisers myself.

Fandom Housekeeping

I don't make callout posts of specific users, even if I decide to block them myself, so please don’t use my ask box for that purpose!

[thecluelessdoctor]

Welcome to the After Falls AU (MASTERPOST!)

I've been meaning to make this for a while, but here we are! The After Falls AU OFFICIAL masterpost! I thought, if I wanna be for real and take this au seriously, I might as well make a pinned masterpost!

Intro Animatic

Summary of story;

It's been about 20 years since Dipper and Mabel's first summer in gravity falls, the both of them going on separate paths. Mabel ended up being very successful in the engineering field. It was basically arts and crafts with more math, and a bit more danger, that's all! Dipper though, found himself making his own research in gravity falls. He knows there is much more to discover than what he had found previously. Mabel's back there for nostalgia, and Dipper is there for research. How fun.

On the side of the family that ISNT pines, the parents of Ratch and Rod Elk, cousins once removed to the twins, find out there is family spending the summer in a little town away from everything, their parents don't hesitate to send them off. At first, it seems boring. But when the elk twins uncover one of the many secrets of their family, they find themselves to believe this summer to much more interesting than it seems, with many of these secrets connecting back to their summer guardians, and somehow, even farther back in the family than them.

Intro fanfiction

CANON MASTERLIST:

Dipper and Mabel CURRENT designs.

Gideon and Brody gleeful design sketches

WIP, will be updated as we go along.

PLOT POINT CONCEPT MASTERLIST (in attempted story order)

queers

stan possession and confrontation

What have you Done

What have you done part two

A world I never could have imagined

Bill's deal concepts

Don't you know how it feels

WIP, will be updated as we go along

And that's the end!! I don't expect this au to get very big or far, but just in case I'll put some rules under the cut :3

Dos:

-fanart!! I love ya see it!! Feel free to tag me as well!!!

-adding OCs PLEASE. Have fun bro. Again, tag me akjahd

-shipping! If it's legal, I kinda don't care. No family x family though, or child x adult.

Don'ts:

-nsfw publicly! I can't stop you from drawing it, but I am a minor, and I'm guessing a good handful of my audience are minors as well.

-proshipping/comshipping. Again I can't stop you, but c'mon man :(

-no using my AU to promote hate??

-please don't glorify any of the darker subject matter in the au. This is more older audience leaning than the original show, and I want to embrace darker themes, so they will be more explicitly shown or more implied.

[eybefioro]

(Open the image for better quality || Time-lapse and ramblings under the cut)

@goodomensafterdark SEE I'M TAGGING U NOW 💛

More than a week ago I woke up with the vision and had to try to draw it XD (literally. Usually I'm up at 6:30 am but that day I woke up at 5:50 with this in my head lol). I couldn't finish it in time for the GOAD rare pair week but I hope it still counts <3.

So in my head, Muriel is taking Eric to a flight. This is based in a headcanon that Eric lost his wings, and that headcanon is based in absolutely ✨️nothing ✨️ lol I also took inspiration from a meta post that has been circulating lately, about Muriel being nightingale coded (This one). So I tried to make their wings look like the bird!

Pretty birb. Hope you sing very loudly in s3.

This one was quite challenging to me. First of all bc I tried to come up with a pose by myself, without tracing over something (I used bridal carry poses as ref tho). Second bc I decided I wanted to make it look like they were pretty high, so obv I needed so fish eye perspective for the back ground...

(Perspective tou can barely notice with the character on top lol)

... but most importantly bc I wasn't following any specific art style. Up until now, 90% of the stuff I made I was trying to mimic an animation. That made EVERYTHING easier. I didn’t need to make many choices; I already knew how things were supposed to look like, I had a direction. Trying to draw something in """my""" art style was SO HARD. I had so many choices to make. So much freedom made me feel directionless lol

Sooo about this pair. I LOVE MURIEL AND ERIC. I see them more as siblings, but it's always a joy to read them in different settings. I just feel like they complete each other sooooooo well.

Muriel spent idk how long alone, but Eric is many; they'd never be alone again. Eric has been treated badly and violently by everyone, but Muriel would be nothing but soft with him. Muriel is curious, and has yet to know many things about the world; Eric lived so many different experiences and seems to know quite a bit about things. Eric loves to ask questions and tell jokes, and Muriel would love to hear him.

And also.... they'd be so freaking cute together. Aaaaaaaaa

I'm my head this is happening after The End Of The World Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. They met in the chaos and just clicked, and now are discovering what to do with their new lives together. (Muriel is showing him the joy of flying again!!) That's why you see Muriel with different clothing, even if it still follows Heaven's colour scheme, and the tartan they used to wear. They're experimenting, and the same goes for Eric (he wanted to look like a christmas tree, what can I say). Crowley and Aziraphale sometimes visit the shop, where now Muriel lives (and that's why you see a black and yellow Bentley!! Aziraphale calls her little bee when Crowley isn't listening.)

I had lots of fun drawing this. I have to thank @elenthyaolyenths again for teaching me how to draw her wings and giving me support, and the same for @gribouli that is teaching me more about colour and light/shadow. Yall are amazing 💛💛💛

Last silly detail that I love:

They're wearing a bit of each other!!

[xulips]

if you see a new tag on my stuff but not ALL of them please ignore it for now i'm trying to tag all of my art but it's taking so long😭😭😭 i haven't even finished tagging all of my prsk stuff