#numbers to change

[farsight-the-char]

Thinking about my Grey Rose setting.

There was the Evernight Storm, where the Magi-Phage first arrived, and for 11 years caused untold havoc. Disrupting the magical balance, causing climate change, killing several gods and cultures, and more.

Then The Saint arrived, and lead the 11 year campaign against the Magi-Phage, culminating in the death of the "Primarch Kaiju" the mightiest of the Phage.

The Saint brought industry, guns, trains, and helped establish the Collective Cities Constitution and Guilds. She disappeared, claiming other realms meeded her.

This began The First Age in the "People's Era". The 2 centuries long process to which the cultures that Survived Evernight joined the Collective, connecting to the Arck Train Railway Network, and built Armoured Cities. The Magi-Phage were still around, but manageable.

The "Shards" rise during this time, born of the fragments of dead gods. Some want to live peacefully, others desire their Divinity back.

..

After that, we have the Magi-Tech Era.

A series of booms and busts that went on-and-off for about 150 years, as many cultures experimented with unrestrained technology and magics.

Evil Vampires experimenting with the Blood, Shards attempting to recapture their lost godhood, energy testing, medical improvements, engineering projects, and more, all resulting in catastrophic damage and/or life-saving discovery.

This era ended in a new large scale invasion from the Magi-Phage, which was dealt with in a rapid and destructive fashion thanks to the new technology, and the Collective Cities stood Stronger then ever. (More effort was then made to monitor/regulate tech development, after this.)

...

The current age, when our heroes are introduced, is the so called "Third Age", the era of information.

Basically, Internet was invented towards the end of the last conflict with the Magi-Phage (30 years before), and the Collective Cities had recently decided to make it a public service to those living under Constitution Territories.

A greater rise in personal freedoms, and better sharing of ideas, occur.

...

Vivian is 57 when introduced, a Vampire for 5.5 years.

Esther is 33, a Vampire for 5.5 years.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Physically? I am sitting in my bedroom. Mentally? Spiritually? I AM DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!! THESE TWO HAVE KILLED ME!!!!

(Another drawing! This was originally attempt #1 at drawing stan, and then fiddleford just showed up. Kinda feels like them five minutes after the above acting like nothing happened though, so it works sdjkgkjfshj)

[pigdemonart]

Unexpected and unrequested Bowuigi be upon ye

They still tickle me from time to time. And I found these now years old sketches I never cleaned up, and decided to share cuz WHY NOT!

Its a good time thank everyone who supports my silly ideas LOL 🙇 ♥️ genuinely love you all sm

Patreon | Ko-Fi

[mango-ti]

Polish Miku shows off her new hair

[mybuginette]

i'm obsessed with this shit now

sorry, in universe social media is my roman empire now

[reasonsforhope]

By the way, I would literally bet money that we're going to successfully keep global warming below 2 degrees celsius.

Would I bet my whole savings on it? No, not yet. But the way the data is trending, in two or three years, I very well might.

[notquiteaghost]

re: that fucking staff post. obviously death to algorithms, but i also wanna interrogate the wider underlying assumptions of their logic there cuz. is 'success' having lots of followers & lots of popular posts??? why is that the end goal of using this website. i don't open tumblr to get attention from strangers, i open tumblr to read funny jokes and interesting commentary and to see cool art. encouraging clout-chasing will only increase user engagement if you successfully get people literally addicted to the associated dopamine hit. what if we didn't have to do that!!! what if a website could be a place you went to on purpose because you had fun there!!!!

[remxedmoon]

triplets! cute!!! they must have some difference between them… but i can’t see any…

greyscale versions under the cut!

[hungharrington]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it's incredibly important to remind folks on testosterone or folks who want to reverse patterned baldness about their options, but man, does it sometimes suck wondering how much of our insecurities about our hair stem from backwards beliefs that to strive towards beauty is not only preferable but "makes you good."

As someone with a rather masculinized body pre-medical transition, patterned baldness has always seemed neutral. Hair is incredibly important (hell, much of my own energy is spent on my hair because I like it), but the pressure to have hair, to have hair the "right way" is something that I absolutely loathe.

I'm not here to judge people who don't want patterned hair loss or baldness, I'm here to say that those traits will never make you lesser. Not only is it neutral, but it is also just as worthy and beautiful.

[themaarika]

happy 732 cycle anniversary!! 🎉

[canisalbus]

Can I ask how Vasco reacted to hearing about Machete’s assassination? :o did he put on a brave face? Was he inconsolable? Does he imagine that if he were there, he could’ve done something (even if that isn’t true? I imagine it would be tortuous mentally and emotionally for him, poor lad

He most likely went through a mental breakdown, followed by years of paralyzing grief and depression. Vasco had proven to be outstandingly resilient and optimistic in adversity, putting on a brave face was his second nature. But this was his final 'break the unbreakable' moment. He turned withdrawn and apathetic. He had never lost anyone this abruptly before, and he became visibly paranoid about the safety and health of his family while failing to look after his own wellbeing.

Of course he kept rewinding the events in his head and second-guessing himself about whether he could've prevented this outcome somehow, even when everyone who knew about his situation kept telling him there was no reason for him to blame himself for it. He struggled with the suddenness of it, and the lack of closure, and couldn't get over thinking how the love of his life had died alone, surprised, scared and in pain, and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to remedy that. Ludovica's support was invaluable to him. Since he couldn't mourn openly she was one of the few people who were there for him.

Eventually he came to terms with what had happened and learned to live with it, and even though he slowly regained his good-humoured personality, he never fully recovered back to his previous self.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[laurrelise]

tragic that even with how lackluster the umbrella academy’s final season was, we never got to see five’s house.

i want to see where the old man lives. how does he decorate? does he live in an apartment or was he able to figure out a cute little home for himself? does he have roommates? did he ever learn how to cook for himself, or does he just eat fluffernutters whenever he’s hungry? does he ever get a mr. pennycrumb of his own? (i know he doesn’t, but a girl can dream) does he ever discover a cafe near his home where a decent cup of coffee can be found?

what coffee maker does he have? where does he buy his coffee grounds? how many coffee mugs does he have? i just KNOW he collects them.

he absolutely goes into little shops downtown and finds one that says some stupid shit like “if my coffee isn’t as black as my soul, i’m not drinking it” and giggles to himself in the corner and then spends way too much money on it because it’s just too good to pass up. he’ll smile to himself on the way home and then put on a pot of coffee to try it out for the first time. he hand-washes his mugs even though they’re all dishwasher safe because he wants to make sure they’re going to be completely untarnished when he wants to use them again. he has an entire cabinet for all of his mugs and one other cabinet for the rest of his glasses and bowls and plates because he doesn’t own a whole lot but he does like mugs. and someone will ask him about his mugs and he’ll properly tell them where he got each and every one, down to exact dates and times because he remembers everything and thinking about when he found his favorite mugs makes him feel less stressed. and whoever asked will not get a single word in and they won’t try to because five is talking about his mugs and he doesn’t get a whole lot of joy from material things but it is the simple things that matter. and five likes the simple things. and five likes his mugs.

[sanchensky]

Eclipse have had enough of Vigilante!Y\N's disregard.

It's gonna be their final talk.

TW Possesive behaviour, Mild (?) Violence

// there's a happy ending tho :)

~ ~ ~

Here's my little passion project based on Naff's Sleuth Jesters :) I'm still not quite happy with it but I really wanted to finish animatic before Christmas

♫ Used song: The Scorpion and the Frog / Trust Me

Sleuth Jesters by @naffeclipse

Detective!AU belongs to @starlightcloudbaby

Kudos to @crystalitar who originally recommended this song to Naff.

Also much love to @pure-plum who's art I've been shamelessly using as reference :)

[sanjipussyindulgence]

this is their entire dynamic to me