#please forgive me again

[bladeweavedance]

More Ship Meme Details!

This one says car, and there's no cars in Faerun, so I changed it to carriage. Originally, I thought "Nah, neither of these guys know how to drive" but then I remembered Wyll has Animal Handling and given his nature as a hero, he's totally had a moment or two or three where there's been a run-away carriage, and he's swooped in like the dashing and daring hero he is to take the reins and stop the thing and the horses before anyone gets hurt. So… Yeah.

We all know Gale is the camp cook, and if Wyll's dialogue is anything to go by, it sounds like he's quite territorial about it. But Wyll can be pretty determined and insistent, and I headcanon that he's not a bad cook himself. He might have started out that way (as the duke's son, he probably didn't have to cook his own meals - so he had to start from scratch when he was kicked out of Baldur's Gate), but I think his years of surviving on his own - he might have learned a few thing about seasoning with wild herbs and whatever spices he could pick up along his way as well as experimenting with various ingredients.

PDA - While both Wyll and Gale are on the more modest side of things (especially Gale given his whole "I won't undress even in front of my tressym" thing and wearing full-on long-sleeved pajamas and Wyll seems at least willing to wear a crop top) - so I can't see them engaging in more, err, private activities - I can definitely see them doing things like praising each other in public, saying romantic things to each other in public, holding hands, kissing, a face caress, hugs. They're both very affectionate people who aren't afraid of showing affection.

Wyll, being the hero that he is, has a natural inclination towards protecting people and can be especially fierce when it comes to protecting the people he loves. This is also evidenced in his origin if you romance Gale and make Wyll the Blade of Frontiers (he talks about keeping an eye on Gale, and Gale is touched that Wyll is so protective of him). Given how deeply Gale loves and the fact that he's a powerful wizard, though… I imagine Gale ALSO has a protective streak towards the ones he loves as well (you see this in his trying to distance himself from his mother because he believes himself to be a danger to her, and if you play his Origin, he can give Tara a stern talking to for traveling outside of Waterdeep where it isn't safe). Wyll, of course, is plenty capable of protecting himself, but that won't stop Gale from unleashing all of his magical fury on anyone who might threaten his love.

Relationship experience! So, we know Gale has SOME relationship experience - there's his relationship with Mystra which likely lasted years, but he also mentioned having mortal lovers before that. There seems to be some inclination that he didn't have A LOT of lovers before Mystra, maybe just a couple or a few. So, he's got maybe a moderate amount of experience; though, I get the feeling very little long-term experience and his relationship with Mystra probably left a lot to be desired in terms of how a normal relationship is supposed to work. That being said, due to his age and some things Wyll has said (more on that in a moment) - He has a LOT more experience than Wyll.

So, now we come to Wyll, sweet Wyll. First, I'm going to point out that Wyll says to Astarion in the Blushing Mermaid that he didn't have his first kiss until he was 15 years old. It's important to remember that Wyll was kicked out of Baldur's Gate when he was 17. So, that leaves two years where he could've possibly had a relationship (or a few really short-term ones) before he's trekking the wilderness and saving the day and having to deal with Mizora on a regular basis (which likely put a dent on his seeking relationship prospects).

Next, in some banter with Halsin, Wyll suggests his romance (if you're romancing him) is his first love. In another banter with Shadowheart in Baldur's Gate, Wyll specifically says he's "tight-laced" and "never been the type to sow his wild oats." Add that to his insistence on a fairy tale romance, the fact that he proposes to his partner before even considering sex with them and well…

What I'm saying there is a VERY HIGH chance that Wyll is a virgin, so yeah he's very close to the No Relationship Experience side of things.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[right to left]

STILL thinking about drunk chess actually

stupid as hell bonus:

[fennethianell]

As promised, a bunch of sketches I did in free time. Obsessed is an understatement.

[ms-all-sunday]

who knew shed inspire such blind loyalty?

[sphor-art]

ok yall im tentatively back

[myeagleexpert]

A story about the director and Grim, who are very close friends <3

Translation from fan to fan, all credits go to the appropriate artist, see the source in the pin below:https://br.pinterest.com/pin/902690319055568233/

Who else wants to see Grim's final form? but…. What cost would this have?

[chalkrub]

do you think it’s a friendly wolf

[corvidcurse]

Silly idea I had

[chiropteracupola]

c. 1540 CE: a young man from Chalco, and his dragon.

[cat-shouty-13]

and an important amendment suggested by my good friend @sleepnos

ALSO YOU BETTER APPRECATE THAT MAYA SPRITE I HAD TO ADD THAT FACE MYSELF !!!!!

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[deoidesign]

It's my right to tell myself I can do just a little animation just for fun just for really quick to do some action and then spend 3 days straight on it

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: Don't Tell My Mom

< track 3 || track 5 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader (past), María León x Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic)

》 words count: +1.5k

》 what you don't know won't hurt you, oh / Mama, I'll lie, just for you

As soon as your phone lights up with a Facetime call, you know. 

No warning message, no text just to make sure you’re free to talk. A cold Facetime request from María, one of your best friends but definitely someone who means trouble if calling like that.

Launching yourself on your sofa unceremoniously, you accept the call and your fate as Mapi’s grin appears on your broken screen. How can she be so smug even miles away goes beyond you.

“Who died?”

Not the most warm way to start a conversation.

“Hola a ti también, nena” (Hello to you too)

“You look awful”

She looks amazing, she’s practically glowing and you’re happy for her.

Also, you’re happy for yourself too. It’s a relief this is not the scolding call you’ve been waiting for quite some time. It’s coming, you can feel it, but Ingrid enters the frame and you immediately know this is good news.

“Tienes que ser buena conmigo” (You should be nicer to me)

Mapi really isn’t the type to tiptoe around something so you don’t get why she didn’t start this conversation by screaming the news. Or making the journey and knocking on your door directly.

You let her be, she probably wants to enjoy it.

“Why should I? I moved to another country just to avoid it”

“Nena”, she pauses and her smile dims for a moment.

She knows English better than she lets everyone believe, so she gets the quip - or your attempt to joke about it. You’re not sure if it’s because of what you said or something else entirely, the two of you have yet to talk about the reason why you’re single and in another country.

Your transfer was eventful, to say at least. The faded blonde didn’t handle it very well, having taken you under her wing when you first moved from a mid-table club in your home country to Barcelona Femení - after a couple of years on a loan in different leagues too.

María’s the one who welcomed you in the locker room with rapid words and contagious enthusiasm. She kept talking with you in Spanish, even if you needed an entire year to be able to hold a simple conversation in your third language, but she’s someone you relied on since the very beginning. 

María’s also the first one to realise something was growing between you and Alexia, the first - and the loudest - to cheer when you mindlessly kissed in front of the team mid night out, the first one to give you both a shovel talk.

Sometimes it’s way too easy to forget how many people you can hurt with a decision that’s just your own to make.

You feel the need to take the conversation back on track.

“When is the wedding?”

“¿Quién te lo dijo?!” (Who told you?!)

“Your stupid face”, thankfully the Spaniard gets her brightness back at your words, “And I can see that huge rock even from here!”

Ingrid is matching a beaming smile, moving her hand closer to the camera and you can’t hold back your own joy. They truly deserve the devotion and support they share with one another. If you have to be happy for someone else’s love, you’re glad it’s for them.

And that ring is impressive. 

The memory of a beautiful ring hidden in a shoe box in the back of a closet makes you shiver. Is it still there or she got rid of it as first thing after dropping you off at the airport? Does Mapi know about it?

“Show off, that’s worth my value”

“Tonterías!, no eres tan buena” (Bullshit, you’re not even that good!)

“You are, she’s just too proud to admit it”, at Ingrid’s first words you immediately remember why lately she’s the one you like the most of the two.

“Haz la maleta y no quiero excusas, volverás aquí” (Pack you beg and no excuses, you’re coming back here)

Mapi’s witty remark is not missed, she saw you growing up and developing your very own unhealthy coping mechanism. Maybe you have a tendency to avoid confrontation, what about that? She goes for any adrenalin rush activity available when in denial so she’s not in the position to judge. 

You shift uncomfortably under their gazes, sitting upright but hitting the back of the sofa with your head.

You may be in a different country and there may be a screen between you and the pair, but María is still like a big sister to you and the other girl is basically the only reason you’re still sane and survived throughout your friendship with the Spaniard.

However, you can’t let them know how broken you are, not when you regret nothing that led to this.

“Why not Norway?”, worth a shot.

“We’re basically going to celebrate in any corner of the world, I don’t think you can miss this”

“Then I can be anywhere else, Ingrid”

“Mapi’s family is gonna be here”, and you’re her family too it’s what she’s too considerate to say aloud but you all hear anyway.

“I don’t think is a good idea, no one want me there”

“That’s not true”

“Nena, por favor!”

The silence is deafening, when you find the gut to look at your friends it’s easy to remember the love, the support, and respect that bond your relationships.

A transfer to another country, all the attempts to hide from the consequences of your own choices, the hearts broken. None of those things are really able to cut those kinds of connections.

“I’m happy for you two”, you say with the biggest and most sincere smile in a while.

Mapi accepts your decision to keep the conversation light, focusing on this happy and long awaited news. 

She’s glowing and you really are happy for her, for them. The desire to celebrate their love, to be there when they will share such pure joy with all the people they care about, sweeps away your fears of being confronted by the human form of the consequences of your own choices.

When the call ends, the usual weight you feel between your ribs doesn’t make your breathing heavier and the familiar bitter taste of guilt doesn’t pervade your mouth. 

You book a ticket to Barcelona before it all comes back to you.

~

“Mapi and Ingrid are getting married”

“It’s a plague!”

Leah is unlacing her boots, the two of you the last ones in the changing room after an additional training session the blonde insisted you needed. 

You’re playing in a slightly different position here, but you feel like those extra hours are more for her sake than your own, scared that you will find a way to avoid your new teammates if not involved in any possible activity.

You indulge her, you’re used to demanding and perfectionist captains after all.

“I have to go back to Barcelona”

“I bet, she’s gonna drag you there personally otherwise”

“María is not that―”

“I’m talking about Engen”, she smirks and she is right, Ingrid is way more effective in her convincing methods.

Still sitting on the bench in your training gear, you let her understand you’re not ready to leave yet. Not the room nor the conversation.

“What’s the problem, trotter?”

She managed to give you the worst nickname possible, making fun both of your way to run on the pitch and the fact you spent the past ten years in five different countries - it’s probably also a quip about the circumstances that bring you here but you give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No problem at all, I’m happy for them”

“They’re really cute”

“They are”, you miss them.

You miss the familiar embrace and the easy banter you share with María, you miss the warm support and the nights out with Ingrid, you miss the silence and the comforting methods Keira always found to take your homesickness away, you miss the funny and the cheerful attitude you wrap yourself around with Jana, Claudia and Ona. You miss them all.

You miss Alexia.

You miss how she always finds time to walk her dog out, doesn’t matter the weather or her busy schedule. You miss the subtle way she turns the radio’ volume up when a song she knows you like is on, and the not-so-subtle way she pretends to hate them all just to sing with you on the first chorus. You miss her body fitting perfectly all over your life, when moving in your house like it’s built around her, or when she’s ideally positioned on the pitch to receive your pass, or even when her hands find yours despite everything and everywhere you are.

You miss Alexia but you don’t deserve to grieve something you killed yourself.

“Do you need a pep talk from Kim?”

“Don’t you dare!”

Last time Leah called on your team captain to put up with your somber mood, you ended on the bench for two games yet sent her a nice bouquet as an apology - and as a thanks for the help.

“Look, you can’t hide from her forever”

“I can definitely try”

The smile she directs to you is both amused and bushed.

“I just don’t think our closest friend’s wedding is the best occasion to meet her for the first time after… well, after everything”, you admit while repeatedly hitting the changing room’s wall with the back of your head.

“Maybe not, maybe we will have to face them in the next Champion League’s draw”

She jinxed it.

[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 11 - multiple orgasms

ghost x gaz x f!reader (part 1, part 2 here)

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1k, light edging/denial, fingering, overstimulation, open/poly relationship (skirting full poly!141 for this one, but it's implied), oral.]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

“I don’t even get why you like shows like this,” you said, irritated, motioning toward the fighting couple on the TV. You were laid back between Simon’s legs, head cradled between his pectorals, the two of you slowly sinking lower and lower into the couch as the afternoon passed. 

“What’er y’ talkin’ about?” he asked, his large hand stroking softly over your stomach. He ruffled the fabric of your tank, skirting just above the band of your joggers. 

He had been playing with you like this all day. Light touches, gently holding you as either you or him winked in and out of sleep. He, frustratingly, never pushed it over into anything overtly sexual. You hated it. Wrapped in your favorite blanket, surrounded by his strong, warm body, it had you spiraling into a soft, subby, haze, where anything could have you dripping, begging for his touch.

Instead of giving in, you poured your want into your dissatisfaction with the trash reality show he’d chosen. 

“All they do is fight,” you said with a huff, covering the hitch in your voice as his other hand trailed up your chest, absently following the knit rib from hem to neck. “Thought-ah!” You tried to continue, but his other hand stroked down, petting your pussy over your pants, sending you shuddering against him. “Ah, yes!” you moaned, finally getting the stimulation you wanted.  

His hand gripped softly around your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger. The feeling was dulled by the fabric between you but, in your current state, it didn’t matter. You still writhed against him, willing the stoic man on. 

“Like it,” he rumbled darkly, fingers rubbing wide circles over your covered mound while you whined and panted beneath him. “Like it because you hate it,” he continued, giving your clit a hard flick, sending you gushing in your panties. 

Oh fuck, you thought, you weren’t going to last much longer if-

“Like it because you still crawl in my lap. Think you’re so slick begging for cock like this.” His hand closed into a claw, blunt nails biting into the fat of your breast while his other hand pressed down on your soaked pussy, working you with quick, precise, strokes. Your head rolled to the side, open mouth spilling an uninterrupted stream of pleading sighs. You felt his mouth press to the crown of your head. “Like hearing my girl cum when I play with her needy little cunt the most, though.”

As if on his command, you came. Your back bowed against his chest, forcing your hips against his chubbing cock. A keen pierced the air, cutting through the stilted interview with the fighting couple from earlier. Simon forced your orgasm on and on, fingers softly circling your clit and pinching your nipple, until you finally gathered the strength to swat his hands away. 

He let you lay against him for a moment as your brain fizzed, going back to stroking over your stomach. Once your breathing evened out he picked you up, forcing you to stand on wavering, coltish legs, before pushing you away.

“Go on then,” he said with a smack of your ass, making you jump. “Shower,” he ordered. 

You obeyed. Happy to wash the sleep and sweat from your body. You stripped as soon as the door closed behind you, wandering into the stall and under the steamy spray. You would have been happy to melt into the wall for the next few minutes, mindlessly cleaning yourself while dreaming of cuddling back up with your man on the couch afterward. Maybe he would even let you pick the next show.

“Mmm, lookit that,” a smooth voice purred behind you. A quick turn revealed it to be one of the other men in your life: Kyle. This was quite the surprise. You hadn’t expected him home today. His dark eyes hooded and seductive as he followed the path of suds and water running down your body. Before you could say anything, he was pulling his shirt over his head asking, “Mind if I join?”

He didn’t give you any time to answer, quickly dropping his shorts as he stepped in, huddling you into a corner. He kept you there for only a moment, letting himself run his hands over your body. He listened to you squirm and whine, still wound up from Simon not five minutes ago. 

He leaned down to peck your lips before taking a knee, sucking kisses all the way down. His hands spread open your slick thighs as he found a home between them. A tonguing kiss to your mons had you sighing his name. Your fingers worked into his tight curls, trying to bring him closer, lower, right were you needed him. 

He chuckled, humming as he nosed open your folds. “Really need it that bad, babe?” he murmured against your core. “Simon not take care of you while I was gone?”

You couldn’t answer, only hold him tighter as he worked that coil in your stomach tighter and tighter. Your was clit still tingling from earlier, so Kyle’s clever tongue lapping at your untapped juices felt like the best form of torture. You leaned back against the wall, bucking against his mouth, taking full advantage of finally having some unmuted pleasure. His fingers dug into your hips, biceps bulging and his hands put a stop to most of your movement, 

“Kyle . . . Kyle,” you gasped, his tongue swirling around your clit, slow and rhythmic, that had your hips swaying. “There,” you begged. “Please . . . don’t stop.” 

Ever one to please, he licked a hard stripe from tip to root before sucking as much of your clit between his lips. He suckled on it, feeling your pulse in the sensitive little organ hammer between his teeth. That shot a spike of electricity straight through you. You keened, moans of his name leaving your lips before you even register your orgasm.   

Somehow, you managed to stay standing. Kyle being the good man he was, did most of the work once he saw you were unable to doing anything more than slide down the slick wall. He wrangled your limp, post-orgasm, body out of the shower. You remember him toweling you off, pressing a kisses here and there followed with cute little praises. 

You were half asleep when he deposited you in bed, directly into Simon's arms. He pulled the blanket up over your shoulder, kissing your cheek as he murmured, “Get some sleep, lovie. Soap ‘n Cap should be back tonight. Can’t leave them out.”

[jazzzzzzhands]

When Clown talked about reading books to home, i knew i had to draw Wally reading my favorite childhood book to Home!!

Also Wally painted a little heart on Home like face painting! oh and take my line art because i love lineart!