#it was late at night and i was tired.

[just-nebularomantic-things]

Also really glad to see that your blog is cluster-B safe! Despite what I said in my other asks about me feeling hesitant to label myself as nebularomantic due to it falling under the aro umbrella and me not relating to aros at all (but also not relating to allos because most of them draw a very hard line between platonic and romantic love and their experience of it is very alien and foreign to me and has actually led to some very unpleasant social interactions in the past), I do relate to the experience very much and I am pretty sure it's caused by the combination of all my personality disorders.

I also have diagnosed ADHD and used to be considered autistic as well (that was later changed to a misdiagnosis and now I'm considered ADHD with a lot of autistic traits) but for me, the problems with differentiating between platonic and romantic love seems to be directly caused by my 3 diagnosed personality disorders specifically. I have Schizotypal, Borderline and Avoidant. And like if I had just one of them this wouldn't be happening, I think, and maybe even the killer combo itself wouldn't be that much of a problem but I also have a lot of symptoms of NPD. Which isn't that weird, cluster B disorders tend to kinda overlap and while most of my BPD friends don't show NPD traits, coincidentally my one friend with NPD does have a lot of BPD symptoms. But yeah I have a fair share of NPD traits as a cherry on the top of my BPD cake, and when that combines with my STPD and my AVPD, it creates this unholy concoction. Oh yeah and the asexuality was probably the last nail in the coffin because if I could feel sexual attraction I might be able to differentiate platonic and romantic based on my sexual feelings. But alas I am not sexually attracted to anyone at all, I just think that all bodies look cool as all hell and I am an admirer of the human form. People and the diversity of the human experience, both physical and psychical, always moves me to tears because people are just so beautiful and perfect aaaand sorry got carried away by the star bright perfection of humanity again.

your reasoning is exactly why nebularomanticism is not specifically an "autistic" label, but a neurodivergent one!

cluster b disorders are so unfairly demonized. this is totally a place where that will not be tolerated towards any personality disorders (or anyone at all.)

personally, mine is because of my autism- but I do have some NPD traits also (enough to make my life a more difficult, but not enough to be diagnosed.....) which may have something to do with it. i naturally don't have many friends, but if i do want a friend, it is strictly in the "acquaintance" category, and i just want the company, without the strong emotional connection. i've had friends who i care deeply about, but that same platonic love for those people..... could just as well be called romantic. if i were to date one of those people, my behaviour towards them wouldn't change- because it's the same feeling, with the same behaviors (TO ME). i don't understand the difference between taking a friend out to the movies, and taking your boyfriend on a date to the movies. that should be the same thing.... right? hahaha

it is interesting to me that some people do feel a real difference with those two types of "love."

thank you for sharing your experiences! i do agree a lack of sexual attraction may cause some difficulty in differentiating those feelings too. i can see what you mean.

humanity is beautiful! one of the reasons i made this blog was to have a place for all sorts of people to be able to share their feelings. it's been nice hearing from you!

[druid-for-hire]

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury

[tea-earl-grey]

The Pantheon of Discord

[ghostb0o]

a quick contribution to the international miku trend

I give you: midwest miku

[sceletaflores]

A Small Favor.

part one!

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: the stress of his new job is taking a toll on mike. he did such a good job helping you out, so you decide to repay the favor.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: 18+! MDNI! oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal fingering, handjobs, heavy on the praise, munch!mike always.

authors note: the heavily heavily HEAVILY requested part two is finally done. (quite literally wrote this instead of listening to my bio lecture) i still can't believe that fic has gotten so much traction, i hope this one measures up! it got waaaay more angsty near the end than i thought it would hehe also i decided to include everyone commenting under part one requesting part two in the taglist of this fic so you're welcome lol mwah <3

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It had been one week and three days since the couch incident, which is what you’ve lovingly taken to calling whatever happened between you and Mike. One week and three whole days of Mike dancing around you and the elephant in the room.

The morning after the couch incident he practically ran out the door taking Abby to school when you tried to bring it up. The next time you attempted to have “the talk” he stuttered out an excuse before retreating to the safety of his bedroom, so you gave up.

You know that there’s something between Mike and you that crosses the line of just friends, you both felt something change that night, but getting him to face his feelings and actually admit that will take work.

It's another night of sitting on Mike's couch mulling over what to do about the whole situation when you hear the front door open. You're shocked at first, usually you're asleep by the time Mike gets home. Sure enough when you check the clock it reads 6:33 in bulky red characters. Apparently, time flies when you're obsessing over how to get your friend turned complicated-accidental-one-night-stand to admit they have feelings for you.

You try (and fail) not to listen in on every move Mike makes in the kitchen, fighting to keeping your gaze trained on the TV as he makes his way to the living room.

In your eyes peripheral vision you see him begin to make his way to the couch, but he hesitates when his eyes fall on you. He awkwardly hovers between the two rooms for a few seconds until he takes a breath and walks over to the couch.

Mike sits next to you on the couch with a soft grunt. You wrestle with the need to look at him fully, but you can see out of the corner of your eye he's taken off his work boots and vest. His hair is sticking out at weird angles, curls frizzy and unruly. Your hand twitches against your thigh with the want to run your fingers through them.

You can feel your heart beat faster, struggling to sit still in the thick tension surrounding the two of you. You flick your eyes back to the TV in a vain attempt to focus on anything other than Mike.

Eventually, you lose the fight with your screaming inner monologue and chance a sideways glace in his direction. You're beyond surprised to find him already looking at you.

You stare back, a deer caught in headlights. The dim light coming from the TV highlights his eyes. Mike opens his mouth to seemingly break the silence but he stops himself short of actually speaking. You can see him fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.

It’s silent for a beat before you decide to speak up.

“Hi.” You say, it's a whisper but you might have well just yelled with how it cuts into the air between the two of you. Mike lets out what might be laugh, it sounds forced. "Hi." He replies stiffly.

"Home later than usual." You point out, fidgeting with your nail. Mike's home a little after 6: everyday, him being home 30 minutes late is odd.

Mike nods, he lets his head fall onto the back of the couch allowing his eyes to slip closed as he does. "Yeah," He replies, the position of his head allows you to get your greedy fill of his sharp jawline. "Jobs been hell."

You don't respond, but you know. Mike's been haggard recently, and not just because of the couch incident. The bags under his eyes have gotten worse, he's been forgetful, not to mention how much more neurotic and paranoid he's been.

Mike has been a wreck these past couple of days, and you want nothing more than to help him feel good. If not for just a few minutes.

You take a chance, and move to let your hand rest over his jean clad thigh. Mike tenses up immediately but doesn’t move to run or push your hand off.

"I could help you,” You say quietly, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. Mike's wide eyes flit rapidly between your eyes and lips. “Help you relax…” You trail off, voice barely above a whisper.

Your offer hangs heavy in the silence that settles. Mike just stares at you, after a while you start to regret making such a bold move. There’s an apology’s on the tip of your tongue, but when you start taking your hand off Mikes thigh he quickly grabs your wrist.

Your eyes snap back up to meet Mikes. His pupils are blown out, black encompassing warm brown. His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip.

“You can...” Mike says simply, guiding your hand back to his thigh. Only he places it much higher up, high enough that you can feel the rough metal of his zipper brushing against the tip of your pinkie. "I need it." He breathes out desperately, eyes big and pleading. You allow yourself a second to just watch Mikes face before you start to move with a purpose.

You snake your hand lower, finding the already hard length of his cock through the rough material of his jeans. Mirroring what he did to you those ten days ago, you start to grind the heel of your hand against him.

Mike shudders, eyes fluttering shut at your touch. You can physically see tension slowly exit his body, leaving him slack and relaxed enough to sink deeper into the couch cushions.

The sight of him at ease and comfortable lights a fire in you. You feel a deep primal need to care for him, to make him feel good.

Patience wearing thin, you reach for the button of his jeans. Even in your arousal induced haste, you take a beat to appreciate the swell of Mike's cock pressing up against the denim. If this was any other time, you'd want to draw it out. To tease Mike until he can't take it anymore, but now is not any other time.

You pop the button to Mike's jeans, dragging the zipper down swiftly and pulling the flaps of his jeans open to frame his lewdly tented boxers. You can hear Mikes breath hitch, unable to keep from squirming under your intense gaze. The thin material leaves nothing to the imagination, the length and girth of him on display. There's a growing wet patch near the tip that's turned the light blue fabric dark and slick. An ache starts deep in your core, anticipation making you feel warm all over.

Slowly, you tug his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and smack up against his stomach. "Ah! Shit," He hisses, hands balling up into fists by his sides.

Mike's dick is perfect. A nice length and girth you know will have your jaw aching in the best way later. The tip a soft pink color, and steadily leaking a stream of pre-come.

"I want to blow you," You say softly, getting close to Mike so your lips brush over his ear with every word. He shivers, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan. "Will you let me?"

Mike nods his head frantically. "Please," He pants, chest rising and falling quickly. "Please, I want it."

His begging is music to your ears.

You slide off the couch, kneeling between Mike's spread thighs. His straining cock makes your mouth water in anticipation. Holding the base in your hand, you lean forward to lick a board stripe from root to tip. Moaning at the heady taste and velvety feel of him on your tongue.

"God." Mike groans at the feel of your tongue.

You pull off with a slick pop, breaking a small thread of saliva trailing from the head of Mike's dick to your lips with your tongue. You lave over the tip, looking up to find Mike staring at you flushed and dark-eyed. You keep the eye contact as you sink back down, beginning to build up a rhythm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mike raise his hands before hesitating, and dropping them back down to the couch cushion. You can tell he wants to touch you, but he’s unsure of himself. You take his hands in yours, and place them on the top of your head.

At first he just sort of holds your head, overthinking what to do even with your permission. You’d laugh if you weren’t so busy preening over the feel of his unfairly big hands holding your head delicately, like he might break you.

“Fuck, your mouth…” Mike whispers, his words trailing off as he watches your lips work over his throbbing cock. His confidence grows, finally allowing himself to run his fingers through your hair and gather it in a loose fistful. Your moan of encouragement has him tightening his grip just a touch.

“Jesus,” Mike breathes quietly, you give him a lick underneath the head of his cock in response. "Fuck. Feels so good.”

You hum in response, working Mike's cock faster to draw out more of those whimpers that he can't hold in. Hollowing your cheeks and sinking down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slick slurping sounds.

Mike's noises have gotten progressively louder by the second, you can feel his pulse beating wildly against your tongue through the vein running up his cock. You know he's close, and you're desperate to make him come.

You give him one long languid suck, swirling your tongue over the head as you pull off. His cock is slick with your spit, pulsing warningly. You use the wetness of your saliva as a makeshift lube to start stroking over him slowly.

"How's it feel, Mike?" You purr sensually,

When you sink back down, you don't break eye contact. Mike's eyes roll back into his head, the way his lips part on a sharp gasp, how his back arches off the couch, how his fist tightens even more around your hair.

Above you, Mike grunts, "Oh fuck, baby," His back arches, a rough gasp torn from his throat. The hand in your hair tugs sharply as he chokes out, "Gonna come, shit, gonna fucking come."

Mike shouts hoarsely, hips stuttering as he starts to come. His cock gives one final twitch in your mouth before he pumps load after load of warm come into your mouth. You moan loudly at the taste of his release coating your taste buds, swallowing what pools on your tongue routinely.

You continue to work your mouth over his cock, bringing Mike through the aftershocks of his orgasm, reveling in the broken sounds he keeps making. You lave your tongue over him savoring the taste of him, until he's tugging at your hair to pull you off his sensitive cock.

"C'mere, c'mere." He whines desperately. You’ve barely come up for air before Mike is bodily dragging you into his lap and kissing you like he needs it more than air.

His hand darts down your body and into your sweats. Mike moans in your mouth at the feel of your lacy panties absolutely soaked with your arousal. He wastes no time in finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over it with his thumb drawing a loud moan from your lips.

"Shit," You exclaim, nails digging into Mike's forearm. Your hips buck up into his touch, chasing his touch. "Mike..." You whine, needing him to do more.

"You drive me fucking crazy," He whispers roughly against the side of your face, sliding his pointer finger through the slick wetness of your folds. "I can't stop thinking about you."

“Oh god, Mike.” His fingers feel amazing, rubbing you in all the right places, his words lighting a fire in your stomach.

Mike gathers your wetness before pushing his thick middle finger in your tight heat. Your own moan gets drowned out by his guttural groan at the feeling of you clenching down on his finger.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He moans, thrusting his finger in and out of your aching pussy slowly. "You're so perfect, so perfect for me." Mikes lips trail kisses down your jaw as he adds a second finger into your dripping pussy, brushing against the spot inside you that sends white hot sparks of pleasure zinging up your spine.

"How's that feel?" He asks roughly, throwing your earlier teasing back in your face. You moan wantonly, hips moving grinding down as you ride his fingers in earnest.

Mike angles his hand in a way that lets his fingers thrust into you, hitting your g-spot all while the palm of his hand grinds into your clit

“I’m gonna come, Mike,” You whine desperately, hips stuttering as you tip over the edge. “I’m coming.”

"Yes, come for me." Mike whispers, lips brushing over your cheek.

Your chest heaves as you come down from your orgasm, collapsing against Mikes chest. You're an absolute mess, thighs shaking and sweat dripping down your back. A hiss escapes your mouth as Mike eases his fingers out of your twitching pussy. "Sorry." He whispers softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

You allow yourself to lay on his chest with his strong arms around your waist, keeping you close. So close you can feel his warm breath puffing out against your neck.

You don't want to let it, but reality sets in. "Are you gonna run away in the morning?" Your voice is so quiet you don't know if Mike even heard, and you can't force yourself to look up at him.

It takes him a second to register your words, you don't have to look at him to know he's wincing. "I," Mike starts, trying to find the right words. "I don't know." He admits, lips brushing against your hair.

The anger mixed with shame and embarrassment is quick to come, you scoff pushing off Mike's chest so you can go home. "Of course." You spit bitterly.

"Wait!" He rushes out, arms tightening on your waist to stop you leaving.

"What?" You bite out bitterly, whipping your head around to stare daggers at Mike. It backfires on you almost immediately, forcing you to stare into his big sad dumb eyes. He falters, mouth opening and closing as he fumbles to say anything.

You can't help that the look in his eyes tames your anger ever so slightly. The way he's silently pleading with you to stay, his brows drawn in concern and lips pulled down in a frown. Your steely resolve crumbles pathetically.

"What?" You repeat quietly. Mike flounders for a second more, before he finally gives in. "Please stay." He exhales softly, hands planting themselves on your hips, giving them a light squeeze..

Maybe it's your shitty resolve, maybe it's the post orgasm afterglow clouding your judgement, maybe it's the earnest look in Mike's eyes that keeps you from pushing out of his grip and out the door, but you just can't bring yourself to leave.

You stare back at him wrestling with your thoughts, but it's a losing game and you know that.

"Okay," You whisper slowly, settling yourself back down into his lap. "I'll stay."

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧

i could NOT figure out how to end this, but maybe i could do a part three? would literally anyone want that?

taglist!

@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz @mikeschmidtgf @lee-inthebox @sunny-deary @ncqari

extra taglist!

@ballorawan740 @slasherluvrrr @importantgalaxyrunaway @iwantsleepplz @theaterhoefornewsies

[nerdynuala]

Had a vision at 3 am and instead of being concerned as I should, I turned it into a comic with the weak excuse of it being a healthy pose drawing practice (yeah no, there's nothing healthy about this)

Anyway L has found a new way to confirm if Light is Kira

I would say he's Kira

[theashenphoenix]

MAJIMA GORO • 龍が如く８ // LIKE A DRAGON 8: INFINITE WEALTH (2024) ↳ Story Trailer

[critter-covenant]

Class is in session!

Idea inspired from this that I've been meaning to draw for the past few days

[vamprnce]

trans Peter save me, save me Peter

[hello-eeveev]

you wanna know what’s so funny is that we’re all like “omg Essek could NOT shut up about Caleb 🥺💕” but like. he absolutely can.

the only times Essek brought up Caleb unprompted/without relevance to the discussion at hand were gesundheit and nighttime sendings lol. of the four uses of the phrase “my partner,” one is an off-handed mention as part of a clarification (“I have not been following the Assembly’s threads; that was more my partner’s purview.”) and the last three all happen in the span of four minutes before Essek exits the episode.

the problem is that within those last four minutes, Essek hit us with

1) showing off a zemnian phrase he learned from Caleb,

2) “he is kind. and he is smart. and he is so strong,” said with such conviction and pride and love that I don’t think I’ll ever recover, and

3) leaving the crafting party to chat with Caleb before bed

which was just. a lot. it was so much and it was so good. so much concentrated shadowgast in those four minutes

this whole ship is built on layered conversations and implications and skirting the obvious (with the exception of the last two minutes of m9 reunited) so to give us four whole minutes of Essek boasting about Caleb, praising Caleb, wanting to go talk to Caleb was particularly potent

thank you Matt Mercer for my life 💕

[clownsuu]

I give you an

A

A

Also I stole this ask just so I can post this fuggin weirdo I made smhh (I raise from the dead just to post an oc again LMAOAOAOAO)

Hopefully this will be my last one in a long while I can live with 7 fuggin wh characters HHFHFUDJSNKSSJ- well- technically 8 if you include Betsy-

But to keep it (somewhat) short and sweet- my loser- a ye ol Milkman- Zachary Milksop (chronically lactose intolerant) and Betsy (a lil mascot moo sentient puppet)

Another character made almost spur in the moment again (like Mari) though thankfully not another bUG, but just some average human smhh. He’s a really simple guy, a loser, is as interesting as normal milk— he’s just the ye ol milkman who delivers you that gud shid smhh— enjoyer of the finer things in life (lunchables). A lil flirty and charming (in possibly the cringiest way possible) however he doesn’t really seem to pick up anyone besides the local cows that constantly harass him (and eats his pants). He enjoys watching them though, from v e r y m u c h afar——

hes just kinda, “that guy”

Also Betsy- a very sweet woman! She always greets everyone and has the friendliest extroverted personality ever! Always the type to bring (albeit tiny) gifts for her favorite neighbors and always leads when talking to anyone. Not like she would allow Zach to say anything anyway, she hates his polyester guts (and only him smhh)

[scribbiesan]

“Nice of you to drop by, Barney.”

(Click for better quality if shitty)

What the FUCK is up folks, I did an art trade with the lovely @gt-ridel , and she asked me to draw a scene from her Half Life Borrower AU, and this is the result!!! I really had fun messing around with this, even tho I still despise background work. Just couldn’t stand having these two goobers floating in empty space, so fuck it. Made an office for Gordon by hand. The refs I looked for didn’t cut it.

I was supposed to post this earlier today, but some shit came up. Ah well, at least it’s done. Hope you like the art, GT-Ridel!!!!

If you happen to see some extra things thrown in, no you didn’t ;)

Anywho, hope y’all enjoy, I gotta dip.

Toodles!~

[tomboyyyaoi]

an hour late but happy birthday to the shit twins

[featguler]

thinking of waking up in the morning, on the same bed as jude with his soft snores and occasional tosses from one side of his body to the other. thinking about lying next to him, his eyes closed. he's never been a heavy sleeper, no not unless he's especially tired, so you try not to breathe too loud. both your hands are pinned under your ear, and your lips parted to soften your breathing. and thinking about just watching him sleep, and watching the sun rise on the window behind him; thinking about that euphoric feeling in your chest, face beaming with a smile that you are still too embarrassed for him to see—you've got jude bellingham here right now, on your bed, or his, and even better: he's in love with you the way you are in love with him. and you look at him. you look at him only to wish the sun will stop mid-course, and if it could, let the world come to end, just so that the last thing you are graced to see will be his pretty face

[sentientsky]

armand is so fucking pretty. genuinely WHO allowed tbis

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: obsession ramble

It’s not that I dislike obsessions, but I’d like to actually see them actually used more

The word obsession means: “an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person’s mind”

It has connotations of compulsivity and a loss of control

So if I’m told X character is obsessed with y, then I’m not actually shown the character being obsessed, it just feels… unsatisfying?

And a lot of the time we get told about it and then it’s never addressed again, or it gets treated more akin to a special interest

It’s Chekhov’s gun remaining unfired

Which is a shame because the works that do actually show the obsessive element of an obsession it feels like setup and payoff. It’s really cool and an interesting way to examine a character

And I get that takes extra work and isn’t always the story you want to tell, but it’s significantly less cool when it’s arbitrarily lumped in. It’s not a be all end all if it’s included and nothing is done with it, but it’s a bit like a nail not quite hammered into place: sticks out a bit and occasionally tears a small hole in your sweater(story)

Def not saying not to use it, but just food for thought on ways to use it I guess, or a way. Idk man I’ve definitely been overthinking this but people overthink every aspect of writing and tropes so that don’t make me special just sleep deprived