#idk man. it felt weird

[vampirismadvocate]

Reverse of the “nooo don’t transition, you’re too sexy” happened to me today

Someone told me that if I went in T I’d be super fucking hot

Which like. Probably. But I’m also hot now so weird backhanded compliment

[chalkrub]

pwyw com from last month ! these are closed now but i will open again at the end of feb maybe

[pricegouge]

the erotic pin up thought but imagine nikolai tattooing his favourite pic and surprising his lover with it :3

he's already been away for two weeks when you get a text from an unknown number. you don't need the contact to discern who it is, anyway. in istanbul. things are running long. don't expect me back so soon. you're not expecting a reply when you tell him not to worry, to just keep himself safe, but you're delighted when you get one anyway.

>>You too, milaya.

he messages you at least once a day, just to check in. you've never been able to contact him like this while he's been on mission before and you don't want to ruin it by being too needy but the temptation of your phone lays heavy in your pocket all week. you'd hate to interfere but he makes it hard when he keeps up a slow, steady means of communication. you wonder about the mission, don't dare ask. it seems unlikely that he'd let himself be so distracted if it were something high stakes, though. it's possible he's been relegated to glorified taxi while bigger pieces make their moves and you can't help but sympathize when you picture him waiting around, dining in the quaint kind of cafes he'd never really seemed to find an appreciation for - at least, not on his own. he was always happy enough to take you but it had always been very clear where his interest lied, dark eyes trained on you even as he ordered. observant, filing away each little reaction he could pull from you with savory dishes and select deserts. you flatter yourself, imagining his patience breaking, just a little more each day, just enough to text you, earlier and earlier each day until two weeks have come and gone and you've basically fallen into a constant rapport.

you ask for pictures of the city and he obliges, little peeks into the life he's living while away. yet more evidence this is some bizarrely political mission he doesn't really need to be present for. you note when he moves locales a few times but he tactfully avoids telling you his location again. he stops sending you pictures altogether when you start guessing correctly.

so you start sending him pictures instead. they start out innocent enough, testing the limits of what you're allowed to say on this line. he shows gives no intent to stop you when you show him the view from the summit of a local hike, nor even when you snap a picture outside a local restaurant, its logo left carelessly in frame. he only tells you to enjoy, doubles down when you send a selfie with your cheeks stuffed full of spanakopita.

you start to think he deserves a reward, being on the clock for nearly a month straight and still finding the time to check in with you.

his hangar is a sacred place, one you rarely enter without his accompaniment. too many expensive tools, machinery pulled apart with all its fragile bits exposed. you're always afraid to touch, afraid to break. nik had told you once that every item there was made of sterner stuff, that you couldn't hurt a swashplate if you climbed up on it. funny how you might be taking him up on the offer now.

(you wouldn't know really, the knowledge about what a swashplate even was having gone in one ear and right out the other. not your fault when he looked that good, jumpsuit folded down to reveal a sweaty, clingy tank top, wiry hair visible through the thin ribbed material.)

but you're getting ahead of yourself.

the tarp kicks up a mess when you pull it free, concrete dust having settled in nik's absence. it sends you into a sneezing fit and you curse, smudging your makeup as you try to wipe away the moisture collecting on your lash line. you decide to roll with it when you catch a glimpse of yourself in some nearby chrome, see the kind of effect it brings to your overall look.

your makeup is classic, a bright lip and exaggerated liner. even a painted on beauty mark to really knock it home. the outfit was harder to settle on, your every instinct telling you nik always appreciated when you looked your finest, all dolled up in expensive labels he'd bought for you. but ultimately you'd decided what was good for the goose was good for the gander, pilfering from his closet until you'd found what you were looking for, the exact same outfit which drove you mad.

nik's a big man, his jumpsuit made to reflect that. it drapes away from your waist when you let it hang but it's nothing that a clever safety pin corset can't fix, the top of the suit left to hang over it, hiding it away. long legs are easier to remedy, hems tucked into a pair of hiking boots you hadn't cared about in years, now painted to look the part with the same gear grease you'd smeared all over yourself, tasteful swipes meant to accentuate your soft curves, here on display under the dirty tank top you'd sworn you'd told him to get rid of, now tied tight around your waist to show off your chest. and now with your smudged makeup you think you've finally got it right, the look exactly what you'd been going for when you'd first got the notion in your head.

with the stage already set, the photoshoot goes easily enough. the poses are almost instinctual, the big wrench you wield almost natural in your hands as you lean provocatively over the engine block, tits to squished you doubt he'll ever even notice the size isn't right for the bolts in front of you. you try a couple of different styles, positions which are obviously designed with aesthetics in mind interspersed with more competent looking ones, even though it makes you feel ridiculous when you think of how obvious it will be to him that you don't know what you're doing.

you just have to remember how little he's going to mind it, all told.

editing isn't your strong suit. you're racked with doubt all the while, hyperfocused on every little flaw you spot. it gets easier when you remember the whole shoot is meant to be quite grimy and in the end you settle on a decent collection. you even remember to upload them to a file sharing site to avoid compression, sending him the link with a wink and a warning not to open in front of his comrades.

he calls you naughty immediately, but it's long hours before he can properly respond, a call that wakes you up in the middle of the night so he can pant and moan in your ear about how much he wants to bend you over that engine, peel his suit off of you and eat your cunt from the back. it's the first time you've heard his voice in weeks and the low rumble of it conspires with the slickness in your panties which never fully righted itself after your little photoshoot, the anticipation of his reaction keeping you primed for him. you come together before trading quiet reassurances. how much you miss each other, how you can't wait to see him again. he makes a vague promise to be home soon and you're still so sated that the twinge of loneliness feels like nothing really.

you think that's the end of it. that maybe he'll request more, at most. but then you wake up days later with a furnace at your back and a hairy arm draped over your side. it's still early, the sun not even up yet. you should let him sleep but you can't help rolling within the age of his arm and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. even in the low light you can see how haggard and hollow he looks, run ragged for too long. his beard is overgrown, the short stubble he usually keeps filling out into a decent beard.

really it's unfair how handsome he looks even now.

"go back to sleep."

you huff a laugh and press another kiss to him. lower now that you know he's awake. above his cupid's bow, your own lips drawn tight with your smile. "but it's morning."

"can't be," he counters, voice thick with exhaustion. "i only just fell asleep."

you hum, distracted as you trace the wrinkles of his forehead. was that one always there? was it new? "maybe it's not wherever you were," you concede. "where were you, by the way?"

"where wasn't i?" he sighs as he rolls away, a great puff of air that cuts through the easiness of the morning, reminds you of what exactly he's likely returned from. the culmination of the mission, even the easy one it seemed to be. he was rarely ever trotted out for emissary visits, after all.

but you don't want to think about all that so you follow him as he rolls, laying yourself across his chest to keep him grounded as you rub against his far shoulder. "well you're home now and my vote's for sleeping in."

his chest rumbles beneath you, a quiet laugh you can feel more so than you can hear. he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your fingers before setting it back down in favor of reaching much lower to pull you more properly onto him. your grip shifts from his shoulder to his bicep and you pause when you feel the edge of a bandage there, worry settling low in your belly as you trace the edges of it. "you're hurt?" you demand, but you don't give him a chance to respond before sitting up and leaning across him to turn the lamp on.

it takes you a moment to make sense of what you're looking at, the bandage you'd felt before nothing more than four haphazard lines of tape holding a square of black plastic against his skin. he laughs at your confusion, thumbing the furrow between your brows away as he also sits up, pulling you onto his lap as he reassures you he's not hurt.

"what's that then?" you ask, afraid to peel the edges up and see for yourself.

he's chuckling as he does it for you, the wrap pulling away to reveal the neat black lines and bold color of a traditional tattoo, a plump little pinup in a barely-hanging-on mechanic's jumpsuit, her cartoonishly circular tits squeezed between her own arms as she leaned confidently over simplified engine block. it's good work from what you can tell. his bicep is a big canvas, the tattoo itself appropriately sized, leaving the artist enough room for minute details, smudges of brown oil accentuating your curves and a wry smile below demure lids.

still.

"you didn't," you scoff, too blown away to even know if you're actually mad or not. you don't think you are, but what if he -

what if -

"well it was either this or i get you airbrushed on the side of the blackhawk, but you are mine, and i do not want just anyone to see you like that."

[xuxudio]

sometimes you gotta give the coolest most badass character you know a really silly trait

[welcometogrouchland]

my Stephanie Brown hot take is that she should get mad bitches now that she's single in comics. Yes yes shipping BUT the one time she had sex she was punished by the narrative via teen pregnancy. I think she should be allowed to have as much sex as she wants with zero consequences. Could be a lot of sex, could be a little. Point is she should get to do it without getting narratively baby trapped this time. she should get them pregnant, actually.

[theswedishpajas]

Based on my favorite gif lately

[ganondoodle]

so im not sure if anyones interested, but, i went through quite a bunch of totk critiques by people who were also very disappointed with it and thought id share my favorite videos i found (granted, i only really wachted those that youtube recommened and its mostly .. white men... things like the orientalism problem are not mentioned at all for example, maybe ill update this post if i find any more diverse voices)

i dont agree with every single point and also dont know most of the channels (aside from the big zelda theory guys) so i judged solely by what they mentioned in those videos and the quality of it (like the audio .. bc i cant listen to bad audio)

in no particular order, also they talk about or use footage of the literal ending stuff so if you arent done with the game yet, better leave these for now

(the following one is a podcast thing by multiple zelda theory guys, there some stuff you can skip at the start thats just kidna random things, but the video is marked with chapters)

(theres some mention of some things not making sense, like the sonau only being two, and ithink thats kinda bc the english translation was weirdly vague about that, in the german version its much more directly said that they all died out and only rauru and mineru were left of them;

also mentions of how unfitting it is to call the enigma stones "secret"stones in english might come from a similar thing; in german they where called "Mysterienstein" which would be translated as mystic/mysterious/enigma- stone

just wanted to mention that since the vast majority are gonna play it in english only and the stuff online is also dominated by english)

[daily-tango-doodles]

Day 70: android tango wip :3

[azuzula]

the sillies

[barrygeuse]

s2 of arcane was a major disappointment to me all things considered. it was gorgeous and i can't deny that; i fully enjoyed watching it, but its plot was overcrowded and it completely abandoned everything that happened in s1. silco and vander's sacrifices, the fight for zaun's independence.. it was all completely undermined by the war. countless lives lost and for what? we got a glimpse of what zaun and piltover could have been, but in our timeline everyone was fighting the arcane and ambessa rather than the oppressive piltover. it wasn't about the undercity and topside anymore. it just felt kind of nothingburger to me which was disappointing considering how much the first season elicited emotion

[recallback]

man. watched nimona today and none of you freaks prepared me for how heartbreaking that movie was gonna be to watch as someone who was a suicidal queer kid.

trying to embrace the role of being someone monstrous only to end up being hurt by the very armour you wear, all the little ways people close to you hurt you and how it builds up over time no matter how good things are other times, not wanting to sacrifice any part of your identity no matter how its hated, y'know?? seeing no way out of the constant cycle of betrayal and hurt by 'allies' but finally giving them what they want. becoming so clouded by grief and agony and loneliness that you aren't yourself (but beneath it all you still are (you can still hear a voice in the shadows roars of pain)).

brother how am i supposed to emotionally recover from this one. that reveal is going to be on my mind forever this movies gonna stick with me.

[valtoiddd]

i tried to do the hs artstyle and i feel silly cause it wasnt as bad as i thought it was to make.HURRAAAYYYYYYYY i wanna keep experimenting :3

also Golden's pose is referenced from this banger Ena card

[theweewooshow]

"it's been a year since my boyfriend tommy broke up with me"

but sure, they were fiances.

[candlecove-weaintdeadyet]

Much as I'm glad for signs of life in the fandom, the HeyKids Archive Wiki lowkey highkey annoys me lol

Like I like the found-family aspect of the "show" as much as the next trauma-riddled neurodivergent queer former weird kid, but the Archive leans into it a bit too much, I think? Like. Where's the unsuitable-for-its-audience nightmare fuel? Where's the writers/actors getting sex jokes and profanity past the censors????? Where's the cosmic horror undertones-you know, the thing that canonically ties Candle Cove to Local 58?! WHY DOES THE SKIN-TAKER GET A REDEMPTION ARC AND ENTER A HEALTHY LOVING RELATIONSHIP WITH HORACE?!

Like, I'm sorry, Candle Cove would NOT have been a progressive-for-its-time, wholesome kids' show that actually teaches the audience life skills and age-appropriate morals, that show would have been what would happen if The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack were made with a budget of $20 and a shoe string and Thurop Van Orman was being tormented by horrors beyond human comprehension and I think we as a fandom have forgotten that.

I know I'm swinging a bat at the proverbial hornet's nest by saying this, but I am very much a mid-2010's Candle Cove fanon truther. That shit should be horror-comedy at best and 'I can't believe they let this air' at worst. It should be dark it should have jokes that fly over the child audience's heads and it should be, dare I say it, problematic.

[moe-broey]

Amateur Hour but I gotta outsource this. Aromantics. Heed my call. What is "romantic" love to a non-believer?

Bonus Round if you're not entirely ace -- does experiencing any amount of sexual attraction influence your answer? Also acknowledging that both aro/ace identities exist on a spectrum. Believe me. I am deeply familiar... with so many kinds of spectrums........... 🧍

Also if this breaches containment It's Not That Serious........... just a personal question. For a friend. Me 🙂‍↕️

[danidrawsstuff]

so i went to grad yesterday

rambling in the tags