#okay im done talking now

[nyuheartbreak]

hi i normally don't talk or interact with posts much because im shy BUT

first of all thank you all for the recent support on my art, genuinely means a lot to me

second of all (and something more funnier)

the recent surge of fake posts (basically the isat universe found access to tumblr) are so funny to me, because yes the existence of tumblr is VERY funny but PLEASE CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING

imagine, the party is in the house

then maybe mirabelle goes like "haha sorry guys give me a second" AND PULLS A BLINDING IPHONE 13 PRO MAX

[soleiltm]

the real question is, when is hannah going to get to kiss a woman am i right fellas

[sophsicle]

OKAY question

i wanna reread choices and edit it but i can never make myself do it cause im like "ugh wow so long i simply cannot"

but also, every time i do reread parts of it i have like *thoughts* like SO many thoughts about it and about what i was thinking at the time and how that has or hasn't changed and what i was trying to do and what i love and what i hate and blah blah blah

SO the question: if i did like a lil read-a-long with soph thing, would anyone be interested? like maybe in the form of small podcast episodes where i discuss the chapters as i edit them and you guys can like tell me the different stuff you want me to talk about etc etc and then i will have the motivation to actually do this and also somewhere to dump all of my *thoughts*

or is that like, a stupid idea that no one asked for? i cannot decide whether this is leaning more on the fun cute side or the annoying keep this to yourself side, Y'KNOW????? so i ask

[seagull9111]

i would cry

my bigges fear is what if they make nico and will straight in the show.

[crayonfodder]

who up transfemming they faves

[spideypawz]

A BOY IS A GOONER*

[napping-sapphic]

Go for a drive with me until we end up sitting in a parking lot and talking for hours

[dipplinduo]

Announcement: A Wild DIPPLINSHIPPING HYPE WEEK appeared!

As you may know, the Indigo Disk DLC released on December 14th, 2023. In anticipation of the upcoming 1 year anniversary, we're banding together to celebrate the wonderful conclusion of the DLC storyline and all of the swoony & angsty moments of dipplinshipping as a whole!

This event and its prompts are based entirely on community ideas and voting. According to final responses, most dipplinshipping community members prefer to celebrate from Saturday, December 14th, 2024 (Indigo Disk Anniversary Date) to Friday, December 20th, 2024.

Event Guidelines:

Any art form is welcome. Whether you want to draw, paint, write, create music, or so on - we love and encourage it!

Participation is entirely up to the creator. While the official start and end dates of the celebration week are outlined, you are more than welcome to release submissions at your own pace and liking. If you only want to do 1 or 2 prompts, no worries! If you want to do all 7, have at it! Just make sure you're having fun. :)

Please mark your content accordingly and remain mindful of community safety and comfort. I plan to promote all content that is created for this event, but will not be promoting inappropriate themes (e.g., NSFW, violent/graphic content, inappropriate treatment of minors or pokemon, or any other related themes that may be questionable or discomforting). Off theme submissions will also not be promoted (e.g., OC shipping).

How to Submit:

Use the Tumblr hashtags: #dipplinshipping, #dipplinshippinghypeweek2024.

Submission Link for AO3 Collection.

Have fun!!! I can't wait to celebrate with you. <3

Special shoutouts to @mimilovesfurret for suggesting this event idea, and to @kekstala, @mandachuart, and @tuttiflutie for co-creating the lovely infographic above on short notice!

With love,

dipplinduo

[gemharvest]

Transfem Boyfriend or as I like to call her Girlfriend2. Open to better name suggestions as long as they fit the "Boyfriend/ Girlfriend" naming scheme.

She/her's only for this post I hope you can understand Why.

Timelapse under the cut. :)

[Video Description: A timelapse of the art above. The song in the background is "Why Would I?" by nelward; specifically the stretch from 0:09 to 1:20. The lyrics featured are typed out below. End Description]

"Why would I even sleep at all if I couldn't be by your side? Why would I even dream at all if I couldn't dream on your time? I can feel, feel, all your loving all the time I can feel, feel Like I'm a falling leaf Inside your whispering wind Each time I touch the ground You lift me up again I only need your touch To make my sweet ascend Why would I even sleep at all? Why would I even dream at all? Why would I even be at all if I couldn't be on your mind?"

[catinasink]

the traveler, the star, and the fish

"why are there fish, nico?" you ask. well. lets jusr say. fish

sign that says id really appreciate reblogs of my art !!! /nf

[worstloki]

love the idea of the Avengers adding new members but being stingy about rooms so the OG Avengers each get their own but Bucky and Loki are forced to share one under the guise of it being 'healthy interaction'

[ghostpebble]

i fear faker is an absolute BANGER and it's stuck in my head

[harbingersglory]

i know i said more dom!reader blah blah blah sorry arlecchino rotted my brain severely. tmasc bunny!arle giving me severe brain damage /pos

(he/him prns used for arle)

at a glance, the big ears and small puffball of a tail might temporarily make you think Arlecchino is far sweeter then he actually is. how could anyone who looked so cute be anything but, right?

but you know better. you serve under Lord Arlecchino - literally. tucked under his desk while he makes you slobber and choke all over his strap. you barely get to breathe with his hand fisted in your hair, keeping you right where he wants you. if you've been particularly exemplary on your little missions, he might even let you sit on his lap. though whether thats worse or not is debatable, making you cockwarm him as he works. and you'd better keep quiet, too. he's not above muzzling you or just straight up shoving his fingers into your mouth to silence you while you squirm on his lap.

maybe if you last until he's done he'll fuck you properly. bend you over his desk and pound your pretty little holes until you're unable to stand. he'll still make you clean up his strap afterwards, of course.

it's when he's in a bad mood that he really gets going. sheds the act of polite, dignified little bunny. no, he's here to break you in and use you like the little toy you are. and you'll let him, won't you? drooling all over his strap when he fucks your throat raw, drags you into the nearest room the moment he sees you to watch your eyes roll back into your head as his cock stretches you out..

he's just as much of a mess as you are when he's this pent up, though. he doesn't bother keeping up appearances when he just has some pent up stress to get out. if you could even think straight you'd notice his puffball of a tail wagging and his ears drooping as he ruts into you, panting and grunting against your ear when you cum around his strap for the tenth time. you could almost swear you heard him whimper, but you'll be in a world of punishment if you mention it the next day (he absolutely did).

[ra-vio]

this blog is 11 years old now 🎉

I drew the siblings ever to celebrate as usual

[faunandfloraas]

.💙.

[gomzdrawfr]

Evanescence

it's now or never

Prev | Next(?)

also on Ao3 tags: canon divergence, angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence and behaviours, major character death (MCD), mention of MW3 content

38 hours ago...

The tent was quiet, save for the rustling sound of Price working his rifle, clean and clinical, repetitive and comforting as he swiped the cloth across the weapon time and time again. A soldier’s meditation, though tonight it brought little comfort.

Raven sat by the cot, her gaze flicking over the mission dossier for the fifth time, black hair falling in soft waves that she tucked behind her ear with practised, almost annoyed motions. The moonlight filtered through the tent’s fabric and framed her figure, highlighting the tension in her shoulders.

She’d been like this ever since the trip.

Tense, distant, yet always close enough to remind him of the rift between them. 

They were fine, but not fine. They were not arguing, they were not talking much either.

He’d mucked it up, didn’t he? Trying to shield her away only made a huge dent in their relationship. Her silence wasn’t outright anger either, it was worse—calculated distance, the kind you’d use to guard a fragile truce. He would feel her gaze on him, pensive, heavy with thoughts, but the eye contact never lasted long.

Afraid of what she’d find in those blue eyes of his, perhaps.

He’d been wrong to think leaving her on the island was the answer. Wrong to think even suggesting it wouldn’t do damage. He’d only been trying to protect her—his birdie—only to plant a seed of doubt, one that was now growing wild between them.

He hadn’t the faintest clue how to uproot it without tearing them apart in the process.

Feelings. 

Messy things. Unpredictable. Dangerous. 

He’d spent a lifetime building walls between himself and the world. That’s why this—they—were forbidden in the first place. Love was ravenous. It consumed him because he had always been selfish with the things he loved. Tugged at his heart and twisted it into knots he wasn’t trained to untangle. Whispers curled in his mind like a serpent, whispers about a promised future, something soft, something real—things he didn’t have the right to want, much less to keep. 

It was everything John feared. And everything he needed.

Letting Raven in had been a gamble. But then again, it wasn’t like he’d had a choice. The most unexpected encounters soften a man the most, and he’d already carved a place for her in his heart. Trying to push her out now was as fruitless as stopping the moon from orbiting the Earth. 

He’d like to think he’s smart, he is, but sometimes he wished he’s not a dumb fuck when it comes to people he cares.

He sees her place the papers aside. She rubs her cheek, puts down her mask, and turns away, she was so damn composed that it drove him mad sometimes. How she could compartmentalize everything so clearly, yet refuse to bring up what actually mattered? 

Well, the same way he did, he supposed.  

Price had spent years waging wars on battlefields, but this? Fighting his own emotions while trying to mend hers? It felt like wading through quicksand blindfolded. His hands faltered for a moment, the cloth dropping onto the floor. He grumbled as he set his weapon aside, rubbing a hand over his beard as he leaned forward, the creak of his knees cutting through the silence.

I’m not getting any younger, yet here I am, a bloody Captain, tiptoeing around emotions like a lad out of his fucking depth.

Grow a spine, John. You’ve faced worse. Enough of this bollocks. 

Love makes him vulnerable, makes his mind cloudy, makes him think of the person next to him instead of the damn mission. Two of them in a small tent, trying to make sense of something they were never trained for, something that doesn't follow a neat box of objectives and outcomes. 

Price sat up, his heavy footstep thumped softly on the ground as the oil lamp went dark with a twist of his fingers. He moved towards her cot, slow and deliberate, like approaching a wounded cat. 

The cot dipped under his weight as he pressed a knee into it. Instinctively, Raven turned and curled into his side, pressing her face into his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close, planting a small kiss into the black of her hair.

This. These quiet moments were the only time he felt like she truly let him in, when the weight of the day dissolved into silence and the world outside didn’t matter. 

Forget about the mission, the fishing trip, the look on her face when he’d told her he was leaving.

The tension is still there evidently, her breathing steady but shallow, never fully resting. The tension between them didn’t vanish, but it softened here, in each other’s arms.

Price shifted slightly, cradling her close to his chest, careful not to disturb her. Though she doubted she was asleep. She rarely was, not fully, certainly not during these few weeks. Her head rested against his chest, and he felt the faint rhythm of her heartbeat when their chests were pressed together. 

He took a deep inhale, catching the familiar hint of smoke and tobacco from her hair. 

Smoking again.

You’re the one to talk, burning through your boxes like there’s no tomorrow.

When was the last time he smelled that faint lemon shampoo she used to wear? The one that clung to her after long showers, fresh like Summer. Probably before they had to leave it all behind—before Shepherd.

Before one bullet erased everything they’d built together.

He winched internally at the memory, a weight he hadn’t learned to carry properly. That bloke deserved it, but with every fleeting look she gave him, every touch she offered, even with the warmth of her body against his now, they all carried the same unspoken question.

Will you leave me again, John?

It killed him, that doubt.

His hand slipped into her hair, fingers brushing through the strands absentmindedly. He supposed they weren’t completely lost yet, not if she still allowed him to join her in sleep. But time is running out, so will her patience.  

“Tomorrow’s going to be rough,” he mumbled, voice low and gravelly.

I might lose you tomorrow.

Her arms wrapped around his chest tightened briefly before it relaxed, an answer.

Price sighs, placing another kiss on her head, his lips lingered longer than usual.

Can I kiss all your doubts away, love?

Don’t be daft, no time to be soft, got a mission to finish.

Price closed his eyes, squeezing her shoulders softly, rubbing his bearded face onto the side of her neck, smiling at the shiver from her. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself as he drifted into a restless sleep. 

He’d find the right words tomorrow. 

The mission had gone sideways, to no one’s surprise.

A tip-off that was supposed to lead them to their target turned out to be a trap, and they were ambushed. The once quiet jungle was now alive with tension, every corner every sound—rustling leaves, broken twigs, bullets whizzing through the air with commands and screams in all corners. Raven moved like a shadow beside him, precise and silent movement to dispatch the enemies one by one until they were separated.

Price spotted her through the chaos after God knows how long, her back pressed against a tree as gunfire rained down.

And then it happened.

One of the enemies flanked her, she hadn’t seen them. 

His chest twisted with a grief he hadn’t allowed himself to feel as the enemy’s finger curled on the trigger, not for Soap, not for anyone. He wouldn’t let Raven become another name carved into the graveyard of his failures. 

He couldn’t.

Time slowed. Adrenaline surged. Price moved without hesitation, the need to protect her overriding every other thought as he sprinted towards her.

“Raven! Down!” He barked out, tackling her to the ground just as the crack of a rifle echoed through the air. 

Everything else that happened afterwards was a blur, ignoring the white-hot pain ripping through him, Price didn’t falter as he turned his knife on the operator, sinking down into the flesh and slashed. He didn’t stop, couldn’t, not until the enemy was silent, lifeless beneath him.

And then he dropped, the bloody knife slipped from his hand as his strength seeped away through the red, slumping forward as the taste of copper flooded his mouth.

Blood spilled over his lip as he coughed, each breath a struggle.

“Price!”

Raven’s voice was distant at first, her panicked scream barely cutting through the dizzying haze. Her hands were on him, dragging his heavy body away, leaving a trail of red coating the green leaves until they were under some form of cover, her hands pressing into the wound desperately to stop the bleeding. His vision swimming, his hearings muffled.

But somewhere in the confusion, he felt something warm dripping down his cheek.

Raven doesn’t cry, she hated crying, hated the feeling of weakness, a luxury she couldn’t afford in their line of work. But everything from the last trip—the hurt, the misunderstandings, the constant nagging doubt in her mind that refuses to die out, the constant reminder of how fleeting their connection was, how fragile human life—his life—was bubbled to the surface.

The wine glass shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces as the liquid splashed over everything.

Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling over her mask and cheek before she could stop them, each roll of those tears felt like acid. 

Not now not now not now not now not now not now—

“Why are you so desperate to leave me?” the sound of her voice, fractured and raw, the pain in her tone pierced him deeper than the bullet below his abdomen.

“Why…why do you always leave?” Her words spilled out just like her tears did, completely beyond her control as she pressed harder into his wound. The warm blood coated her gloved hands like lava.

Too hot, too much.

His trembling hand reached up to her, brushing against her wet cheek before he coughed again, blood bubbling in his throat. It felt like he was drowning, but he forced the words out.

It’s now or never. 

“Never… in my life… would I want to leave you. Never, Raven…” He swallowed hard, feeling as if he might regurgitate the blood again.

“I just want you safe…”

“Then why?” She demanded, trying desperately to regain any resemblance of composure and control, but it fails and slipped away, just like-

“Why do you keep making me watch you slip away?” 

Price really shouldn’t be laughing, he cracked a pained smile instead. Is this what you think, birdie? Maybe I’m not the only one daft in this relationship.

“Because I can’t…lose you. Not you.” He coughed, the sound wet and strained. 

“I’d rather…it be me….every time.”

Her grip on the nape of his neck tightened as she shook her head furiously. “That’s not your choice to make, John! I’ve told you already—y-you don’t get to decide that for me!”

She heaved, watching his blood on her palm, then back at him, panic and dread coiling around her throat, tightening with each word that felt like a losing game, but she persisted.

It’s now or never.

“I'm not here to watch you destroy yourself trying to save everyone, trying to save me. I’m here because I chose you.” She gripped his neck, forcing him to keep eye contact on her.

“So you damn bloody well choose me too, Jonathan Price.”

John’s eyes widened just a fraction, and for a moment, the chaos around them faded away, leaving only the two of them.

There was no hesitation in his immediate reply. “Always. Over and over…I’ll choose you. I promise.”

Her eyes softened for a fraction before determination hardened her expression. “You better, John. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

She scrambled to her feet, lifting him up despite his weak protests. “You’re not dying on me today, Captain,” she grunted out, her tone brooking no arguments.

He smirked faintly, even if everything hurt.

“Yes, ma’am”. 

Back at their camp, After Price lay bandaged but alive. Raven slumped against the bed beside him, exhaustion etched into her features but her hand never leaving him, resting on his lap, still wearing the bloodied uniform.

Price stirred, brushing a trembling finger against her temple.

“You’re not going anywhere…” he murmured quietly, watching her eyes open slowly.

“Not unless you push me away again…” she replied hoarsely, a gentle warning. 

His jaw tightened as he shook his head. “Never. Not ever again.” 

I’ve made some cock-ups in my time, but none bigger than hurtin’ you. 

I’ll be damned if I let you think for a second more that you don’t matter.

He cupped her cheek, sighing as his thumb brushed her skin. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Eira…but losing you won’t be one of them…”

For the first time since they left the island, she smiled, dimples deepening—a real smile, small and slightly crooked, genuine. 

Price couldn’t help the faint chuckle that escaped him. 

“I could bloody murder for a smoke right now…”

“I think you lost them in the middle of the op”

“Bloody hell…” he muttered, shaking his head with half-mocked despair. Raven smirked slightly, stretching out her stiff shoulders.

“We should…go out,” Price said after a moment of silence, reaching out as he fiddled absently with a pale strand of her hair. He wondered briefly if the white strands peeking through the black were dyed or something she’d never mentioned.

There was still a lot between them left unexplored and unresolved. 

“You can’t walk,” She pointed out, patting his bandage gently for emphasis. 

He huffed a quiet laugh. “No, I meant…once I’m patched up, I’ll take you out. Dinner, a trip, whatever you want. We need to talk about this…about us.”

Can’t let another life-and-death situation force out our confessions. Raven tilted her head, a hum of thought escaping her as a flicker of surprise passed through her gaze. “Abusing your sick leave, are you?”

“Not much I can do with a punctured organ,” he deadpanned.

“Touche…” She sighed, not entirely meeting his gaze yet.

“Birdie…”

She clicked her tongue, relenting as she nodded her head. “Alright, alright. Yeah…fine we’ll talk about it and go somewhere I suppose.” 

A wave of contentment settled over him as he leaned back into the pillow, a small smile graced his lips.

I’ll stop being a daft bastard for you, birdie. 

“Where to?” he asked. 

“....fishing?” she offered after a moment, and Price blinked a few times. “...Really?” The corner of his lips twitched slightly in guilt. “I…thought you would’ve resented the idea after…what I did.”

She chuckled quietly, smoothing out her hair.  “Well, we’ll do it my way this time.”