#reblogging to my side blog

[peach-pot]

(if you don’t mind reblogging this post, that would be groovy ^_^)

[originalartblog]

Remember when I pitched the concept of Chuuya developing a fear of lightning/electricity after the events of Storm Bringer and the Dragon's Head Conflict?

Thunder doesn't bother him, he deals with loud noises on the daily. No, it's the lightning itself that gets to him.

So obviously the solution is to close his eyes and wait for the storm to pass while berating himself because he should be better than this.

[dragonfollies]

Petrigrof doodle (I’m normal about them) <- is lying

[crispyliza]

It's a real struggle

[hauntinghyrule]

Do you dare? >:]

[obsob]

hi im curious

i hve an insane like to reblog ratio on a lot of my art and i just can never get my head around it . girls did u know if u see smth u like u can reblog and tag it and then you can find it easily forever

[dashing-through-ecto]

@xmajordumps it is me. The stranger from your askbox. I love your design for these two so I went a little ham on them.

(I haven't been able to get them out of my head for over a week and the Sex update destroyed me emotionally [I lost nari to sin and I can't get him back. He is gone, forever.])

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Kinktober day 19/20: Housewife/domesticity kink + service - John Price x reader

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader, being married and a bit of being a house wife. Mentions of pregnancy at the end. Reader is also slightly a clean freak coded/gets hyper focused on cleaning- because who doesn’t, tbh. Fluff, then smut at the end.

Price’s favorite things about coming back from deployment.

Of course Price looked forward to coming home- seeing his wife after a deployment was what kept him going through the roughest parts of his job. But- in addition to the obvious reason of just missing his wife- Price had a particular fondness for those first nights back.

When he walked in, your eyes would light up- and he’d almost always find himself nearly tackled by your hug. He’d always laugh, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight as he teased you for your enthusiasm.

During that first hug, he wouldn’t let go immediately. He’d press a kiss to the top of your head- keeping his lips against you for a moment longer- just to breathe in the comforting scent of you. He’d keep one of his hands wrapped around your shoulders, and the other one either nestled against the small of your back or dip of your waist. If you were wearing a shirt, he’d slip his hand under the fabric to run his rough, calloused hands over your soft, warm skin.

If it were up to Price, he would keep you wrapped tight in that bear hug the whole night- or at least till he decided it was time for him to scoop you up and take him to the bedroom. He’d only (reluctantly) let you go once you mentioned that dinner was going to burn.

On the nights when Price first got home, you’d always fuss over him. You’d insist that he sits down- bringing him a beer and making sure to take care of him as best you can.

You’d always try and press the TV remote into his hand, telling him to sit back and relax while you finished dinner. But he’d just smile and shake his head- content to watch you hurry around the kitchen and worry your sweet little head off over dinner. It was one of the few times he’d let himself give into your worrying and fussing- he might as well enjoy it.

He’d sit back and light a cigar, eyes following your ass and admiring the way the tie of your apron cinched around your waist. He’d smile at the way you bit your lip and frowned when you pulled dinner out of the oven- adoring how desperate to please you would get on nights like this.

He may even let you work yourself up about it, probably chuckling at the way your brow furrowed when you find a spot you’d missed while doing your regular before-price-gets-back-from-deployment cleaning spree: something he had, to no avail, tried to assure you multiple times was not necessary, and only discovered the existence of upon getting back a few hours early, planning to surprise you, and found you half way inside the oven. You were cleaning it, you said- although Price was a little concerned by the fact that you’d apparently been at it for nearly two hours.

At this point, he realized that there was nothing he could do to stop you, and just found it cute that you’d get yourself so worked up over getting everything perfect for him.

Of course, he wouldn’t let you stay worked up. Especially on nights like this, he was sure to kiss and praise you all he could. And at the end of the night, you’d always find yourself pressed firmly into the mattress underneath your husband. With Price’s fingers laced together with yours as he thrust slow and deep into you, murmuring against your skin about how perfect you were- how you didn’t need to try so hard to please him, not when just your smile brightens his entire day.

As his thrusts would stutter and he neared his release, his voice would go rougher and he’d suck a hickey beneath your ear and behind your jaw bone- making sure to tell you how much he loved you, how lucky he was to have such a sweet little wife. He’d tell you how he was going to fill you up with his cum and give you a couple of his kids, how he was gonna make you a momma so you’d hopefully stop worrying your pretty little head off over keeping the house spotless- “calm ya’ down a bit” as he put it.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[godhelpmeimdescendingintomadness]

[hemlocksgrove]

felt like making a token po3 au, i call her girls night party

[sleep-deprived-luka]

Gog au niigo for tonights doodle

[cassiopoet]

And the Hound

“And the Hound

hums a lie;

a lullaby.”

-And the Hound, Yaelokre

A/N: breaking: self proclaimed poet cassie obsessed with a song that uses hound imagery, more at six

song credits: Yaelokre (@yaelokre)

art credits: me (@cassiopoet)

[strawberrycamel]

hi, tumblr user strawberrycamel here, I'd like to take a moment and remind everyone that if you like something, consider reblogging it too. That's how communities thrive and connect with each other, and that's how you tell creators "hey this thing you made is great and I enjoy it" . Reblogging also makes a copy of the post on your own blog that will stick around until you delete it; if the creator gets rid of the post, your copy on your blog will still exist!

Let's get rid of the mindless consumption and try to interact with our fellow tumblr users a little more, shall we?

[nine-doodles]

Galarian Rapidash (2022)

[lucalicatteart]

 sculpted a strange shimmery two headed snail, speckled with wild flowers on it's shell~

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Horse Yaoi trotted so Horsegirl Yuri could fly.