#repost bc I put this on the wrong blog

[sandwichhour]

Shes just rlly fun to draw

[earthspark-shockwaves-reduction]

man i love that piece of media where one of the main antagonists or "villains" of the story is a charming but manipulative scoundrel who initially portrays himself as a pitiful man who deserves compassion and sympathy for supposedly being treated very poorly until it is revealed that he is a terrible person who attempts to manipulate situations in his favor by not only manipulating the people around him themselves but grooming especially naive characters and using their innocence to sway situations the way he wants them to go. and it greatly complicates the slowly developing relationship between someone who had initially fallen for his manipulative tactics and their love interest who starts out very distant and coldly unreceptive to them but slowly softens and tries to make himself better a better person for them

[nakanotamu]

[compsci-haikus]

Don't buy .io Chagos folks were forced to go Without getting dough

remember .io games? that was 8 years ago

[rbfclassy]

HOLE IN THE WALL! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...as an overworked and stressed employee, you find relief in giving blowjobs to complete strangers at an adult store

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, oral (m!receiving), jerking off, nipple play, tit job, pussy job, cum eating, praise, a little twist at the end, not proofread (as usual)

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

had to repost this bc tumblr took it down for whatever reason even though I have things more explicit than this on my other blog lmao

Working at an office where you were constantly hassled for your deadlines always put a lot of unwanted stress on your shoulders. Higher ups yapping in your ear about something you’ve been told one hundred times before and your fingers are typing as fast as they can on the computer. It was a complete and utter shit show, a waste of your precious time. But you have one little secret no one knows about, you volunteer at a glory hole every now and then when you feel too worked up.

After a long week of staring at a computer screen and boring meetings, you walking to the adult store, greeting the worker who already knew what you were there for. All you needed to relax was to watch random strangers cum from your touch. Believe it or not, it brought you joy hearing their moans on the other side of the thin wall. Maybe you chose the wrong profession.

As you entered the room, you let out a sigh, locking the door behind you. You slipped your coat off, and placed your bag down on the chair. Despite what others might think, the room was always clean. It wasn’t a random glory hole you’d find in a public bathroom or a shack in the middle of the woods. You unbuttoned your shirt, letting your tits breathe as you finally were able to relax and wait for the first person to come in.

You perked up at the sound of the door to the other room opening and closing shut. He let out a loud sigh, the sound of his pants being unbuckled making you excited. “Just make me cum, I’ve had a long fucking day,” he grunted. You looked down at the hole, the man placing his semi hard cock through it.

“You and me both, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good.” Your hand glided up and down his shaft, slowly stroking him, feeling him grow harder in your hand. You stared at his cock with a smile, his swollen tip flushed a dark pink, prominent veins running on the underside of it. Whoever this man was, he sure had a pretty cock. “You’re so big,” you giggle. Your hand barely able to fully wrap around.

Delicate fingers traced the prominent veins, teasing the underside of his dick before your thumb rubbed over his swollen tip. You felt him throb in your hand, a bead of pre cum forming at his tip, a smile tugging at your lips. The stranger was fully hard, dick long and pretty. You continued rubbing your thumb over his tip, sticking out your tongue to give him kitten licks, tasting his pre cum. You heard the man shudder, a breathy gasp leaving his throat. “Oh, you’re so sensitive!” You gasped, now slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, moving from base to tip.

You moaned in satisfaction, lip tucked between your teeth as you jerked the stranger off, your free hand cupping your tits as you started to feel turned on by the sight in front of you. “Oh, fuck,” he let out breathy moan. More pre cum began leaking from his tip, allowing you to use it as lubricant to jerk him off easier. Your wrist moved in circular motions, squeezing gently the closer your got towards his sensitive head. “Shit, sweetheart! You really know what you’re doing, huh?” A moan could be heard from the other side of the wall.

Your hand pumped him faster, squeezing tighter around his shaft. “You better not cum yet!” You smiled as if he could see you, but you were taking joy in hearing him in pleasure. Opening your mouth, you stuck out your tongue and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while simultaneously moving your hand. You pinched your nipple, moaning around his cock as his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Oh, baby, your tongue feels so good! Let me feel that throat,” he whimpered, bucking his hips against the wall, trying so desperately to fuck your face. You removed your hand from around his cock, allowing him to fuck your face. Glug, glug, glug. “There we fucking go, atta girl!” He moaned loudly. As you sat there and let him use your throat, you couldn’t help but think at how familiar the man sounded, though you couldn’t remember from where. But it was the least of you worries, you were only thinking about making him cum.

You pulled your head away, trying to catch your breath as drool coated your chin. You lazily smiled to yourself, wrapping your hand around his shaft again and slowly jerked him off. You positioned yourself to where your tits were close to his dick, rubbing his tip over your hard nipples. “Mmm, feels so good.” Your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, sweetheart. God, I wish I could see your pretty face right now,” he grunted. You smiled at his words, continuing you give him a tit job before spitting on his cock again. You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, taking him in your mouth slowly, allowing him to stretch your throat. You gagged on it, tears forming in your eyes before clenching them shut. Mascara ran down your cheeks as you began moving your head up and down, more spit coating his cock and falling on your chest. Your hands messily spread the spit over your tits, teasing your sensitive nipples. “Wanna cum all over your face—mmm, fuck me!” He groaned.

You pulled away again, taking a deep breath. You grinned when his cock twitched, a small giggle erupting from your chest. “You’re so close to cumming! I love it. Do I make you feel good, huh?” You cooed, dragging your fingers over his head. His cock looked even prettier dripping with your saliva.

“Can I feel your pussy? Please, sweetheart? I need it so bad,” he begged. You sat there on your knees, processing the words he said. You usually never let anyone fuck you at these glory holes, but you could think of the next best thing.

“How about a pussy job? Would you like that, baby?” You questioned, waiting for his answer while you slipped your soaked panties off. You dipped your fingers in between your folds, letting out a small gasp from how wet you were. “You got me so wet.” You slapped your pussy a few times, a lewd wet sound filling the room. “Hear that?”

“Goddamn you.” His cock twitched just from hearing how wet you were. “Let me feel her, please—fuckkk me,” he breathily said once he felt your hand grip his cock and rub his tip over your sopping slit.

You were bet over, using the chair as support while the other reached over and guided his cock along your pussy, his head rubbing between your folds and nudging your puffy clit. Your jaw went slack, eyes fluttering shut. Moans could be heard on either side of the wall. He desperately wanted to shove himself inside your gummy walls and fuck you until you passed out. “Cum all over my pussy, I know you want to.”

“Fuck, fuck, shit,” he grunted. “I’m cumming! Oh, sweetheart I’m fucking cumming!” Not even seconds after saying those words, you felt hot spurts coat your pussy, the man moaning and you continued to rub his cock all over your sloppy pussy.

“Yes!” You laughed, gasping from how he was still going. “Oh my goodness!” You felt him twitch one last time in your hand before you pulled away, sitting on the chair and spreading your legs to see at the mess he created. Curiosity got the better of you as you dipped your fingers in, scooping some of his cum and licking it clean off. “Mmmm, you taste so good!” He let out a breathy chuckle.

“Thank you for that, baby.” He pulled away from the glory hole, cock disappearing. You heard him put his pants back on. “Can I ask you a question?”

You kneeled back down towards the glory hole. “Yes, what is it?”

“Will you allow me to see who you are?” He sounded like he was nervous to ask the question.

“There’s no fun in a glory hole if you know who the person is,” you replied in a playful tone.

You heard the man let out a small laugh before sighing. “I guess you’re right. Until next time then.”

“Until next time.” You smiled to yourself. One thought sat in the back of your mind, though. Why did this man sound so familiar to you? It was a forbidden glory hole ‘rule’, but you couldn’t help yourself from peeking through the hole in hopes to catch a glimpse of the man on the other side. You noticed a familiar watch on his right hand, his figure coming more into view when he walked towards the door. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you saw the blonde hair. It was none other than Nanami Kento, your co-worker who you regularly greet at the office, the man who sits in the cubicle right next to you.

[tianhai03]

(repost bc i put it on the wrong blog again)

i started playing teppen yesterday and it's making me crave the dmc x okami crossover i've wanted ever since i was like 12

(bonus shitpost below)

i fucking love the dramatic "getting knocked the fuck out" animations the heroes have when they lose a battle it's one of my favourite things about the game so far

i'll get good at playing a deck with dante out of spite someday i swear

[gold-rhine]

First time sub afab! Character x GN Dom! Reader

Characters: Kaeya, Ayato, Diluc, Gorou

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned. I generally don’t do specific scenario requests, but you’re in luck, bc Ayato and Kaeya parts fully formed in my head the moment I read your ask, and then I got an interesting visual for Diluc, to congratulate him for coming out as a kinky goth. I added Gorou bc you asked, but don’t really like how it turned out tbh, but I hope you’ll enjoy somewhat.

Warnings: nsfw, fingering, slight degradation (name calling), nipple play, praise kink, overstimulation, oral (character receiving), cock stands for cock\strap (only relevant for Kaeya’s part, bc of shameless favoritism he gets twice the content)

Wordcount: 5,5k

Diluc

His lips are eager when you kiss him, but he's a little tense in your arms. He tries to hide nervousness, keeping up his usual confident demeanor, unbuttoning his cravat and vest with brisk efficiency, but his fingers are a little stiff and his cheeks are pink.

A bit of anxiety is normal for his first time, but you start getting concerned when you get to his shirt and he tenses even more, his movements becoming wooden. This is not a spontaneous decision for him, he clearly planned this evening for some time - he spent his birthday collecting fresh valberries in the mountains, made a special dinner for the two of you and after it pulled you into his bedroom, crimson eyes intense and excited. But even so, something might be wrong and you know he’s the type of stubbornly proud to keep quiet even if he becomes uncomfortable, so you gently cup his blushing cheek.

“Hey, is everything alright? You know we can wait, don’t force yourself.”

He huffs, half embarrassed, half exasperated, still not meeting your eyes.

“It’s not that.”

This morning he put on fancy underwear, red silk and lace, an expensive piece he bought sometime ago on a whim and never wore before. It seemed perfect for the occasion, and throughout the day he felt tingly butterflies in his stomach, like he was hiding something - for once, it had nothing to do with violence or intrigues of his enemies, but a secret to be shared between the two of you tonight, anticipation of your surprise when you see it on him.

But now suddenly he feels anxious about it. This piece is so unlike him, a flimsy half-transparent thing, it was meant for someone sweet and seductive, with tender skin and delicate build, some society beauty and not a warrior like him. What if it looks foolish on him, with his prominent angular hipbones, hard muscles and many scars? He should’ve stuck to his usual style, plain and black, instead of trying to feel special, and now the idea of you thinking he’s ridiculous leaves him almost irrationally paralyzed.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Candleflames all over the room flicker as he grits his teeth. He feels frustrated, mad at himself, but his temper urges him to act when he feels unsure. He unclasps his belt with jerky motions, almost angrily, you frown at this until you notice red silk underneath.

“Wait, what’s that? It’s beautiful!”

He finally looks up at you with relief barely hidden.

“Oh? You like it?”

“I love it. It looks so hot on you.”

He lights up, trying to look nonchalant, but can’t help a small flattered smile when you pull him into a kiss, melts against you, anxious tension finally gone. When you start rubbing his clit through the thin layer of silk, he shivers, clings to you, and because his eyes are still closed, at first doesn’t see that the candleflames are flickering again, now even brighter. When he finally notices it, he sharply draws his breath and all fires go out, plunging the room into the darkness.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you whisper into his ear while caressing his tensed up body soothingly.

This is so embarrassing, he’s used to lighting up the candles with a quick thought, so now that his emotions are in turmoil which isn’t an anger of combat, his vision reflexively reaches for the familiar safe outlet.

“It’s not going to be okay when I burn down the house around our ears,” he grunts, violently bright blush glowing even in the darkness.

“You won’t. Let go, baby, just relax,” you kiss him, his lips, jaw, neck, keep stroking his clit until he starts squirming against you, unable to contain himself. You press him down on the bed, get rid of the rest of his clothes until he's wearing nothing but the red silk panties. You trail kisses down his body, sharp collarbones, heavy breathing chest, sensitive buds of his nipples that are hard even before you swirl your tongue around them, scarred ribs and tense abs, until you slowly pull his panties down and press your lips to his clit. He gasps silently, throws his arm over his eyes and clamps up his thighs nervously, and the candles lit up, volatile flames rising up.

“You’re so lovely, babe,” you whisper against his skin. “Open up, let me see you.”

He shivers like the candlefires all around you, anxious anticipation ready to turn to the deeper passion. He lets you tug his underwear off and spread his legs, exposing his wet flushed cunt.

“Good boy,” you murmur quietly and watch how his entrance clenches. You give it a slow, long lick and he gasps quitely, fire sparking up around the room. He’s been eating mountain berries all day, so he tastes fresh and sweet, a little tangy, his soft tender flesh pulsing under your lips in the same rhythm as the flickering flames.

When your finger circles his entrance, the light dies down again, you can see him nervously holding his breath. You suck on his swollen clit until his hole throbs and opens up despite the anxiety, then carefully slide your finger in and curl it to caress his sweet spot. He gasps, bucks his hips involuntarily, candles flaring up all around you. You ease another finger in, start fucking him, slowly incresing the tempo, and he tries to keep quiet, only lets out harsh chocked grunts, but the flames all over the room are beating feveresly like the wings of crimon butterflies, painting the room and his pale body in gold, orange lights and deep dark shadows.

When he’s close, he reaches for you, pulls you up with such a needy sweet whimper that you let him without resistance, throws his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. He’s thrusting his hips into your fingers, and the room is lit in the colors of the sunrise if it was not a slow ascent, but a beating heart, - pulsing splashes of amber and yellow, mauve pink and intense crimson, fires on many candlesticks and fireplace roaring up far bigger than they ever could. He comes pressed against you, fingers digging into your shoulders, and the candelabras and fireplaces all over the mansion light up, for just a moment the winery looks illuminated in the night like the dawn really exploded inside of it.

After, he falls down on the bed, breathing heavily, lips parted and crimson eyes glowing as he looks up at you, your fingers still buried deep inside him.

“Did you enjoy it, baby?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, but firmly, blush on his cheeks, but no shame in his voice.

“Good,” you grin, spread his knees and watch his breath hitch. “Because your birthday present doesn’t end until you beg me to stop…”

Ayato

Ayato might not have personal experience, but he is not naive. He’s read about this. He knows all of the mechanics. He’s thought about this in detail and he has no shame about it. Why would he, when knows he’s exquisite, a pleasure for anyone to reap. False modesty seems ridiculous here.

He’s in between your legs, naked, his back pressed to your chest, a big mirror on the opposite wall, allowing you to see his pale, slender body fully.

Your hands glide over his skin, his shoulders, pluck his nipples, then down the chest and ribs and over tense stomach, until reaching down  to his thighs. You spread his legs and fix them with your own, so he’s completely open, his pink cunt exposed to your eyes in the mirror, already flushed and wet. Your fingertip circles his clit slowly, lightly, and his body tenses in your arms.

“It feels different when you touch me,” he says, drawing his breath. “Sharper, somehow. Better.”

“Compared to what?” you ask, grinning, watching his subtle squirms in the mirror as you continue rubbing his clit with more and more pressure.

“To when I touched myself, of course,” he says, completely shameless.

“Have you imagined me fucking you?”

“Obviously. Haven’t you imagined fucking me?” he meets your eyes in the mirror with his little arrogant smirk, even as your hand in between his open legs makes him shudder.

“Of course,” you admit, smiling against the side of his neck.

“How?”

You kiss his arched throat and tender juncture between his neck and shoulder. “I think it’ll be more fun to keep it a surprise.”

As you tease his clit, his delicate folds tremble and open slowly, exposing his entrance, dark pink and pulsing with desire. He holds your gaze in the mirror, even if he swallows harshly and blushes.

“Have you fucked yourself there?” you ask softly, your lips pressed to his ear, your finger circling his twitching, wanting hole without entering.

“Yes…” his voice falters, he watches your movements intently. His entrance trembles and leaks a clear string of liquid and he blushes harder, but doesn’t try to close his legs.

“How many fingers?” you ask, still teasing his aching cunt. Your free hand roams over his tense body, sliding over the tender skin, playing with hard, aroused peaks of nipples.

“Two,” he’s breathing heavily through the open mouth, and you can feel his heartbeat fastening. You tantalizingly slowly stroke his silken wet folds, delicate like petals of his heraldic camellias, allowing him time to fully take in the obscene image in the mirror.

“Have you tasted yourself?”

“No… not yet,” he lets out, head dizzy from the scandalous depravity of this view of himself, naked, spread wide open, hips squirming needily, trying to get your fingers on his throbbing clit or dripping hole, bedsheets under him already stained with a wet patch. Such contrast to his usual controlled elegance and detached sophistication, and anticipation that this is just the beginning turns him on even more.

You finally slide your finger inside. He’s so wet that it goes in easily, allowing you to bury it to the knuckle. You hook it, stroking his pulsing walls, as he clenches around you, gasping through the parted lips, his eyes fixed on your hand between his legs.

You pull your finger out, a wet string drawing out after it from his hole.

His eyes snap to yours in the mirror, intense, demanding, and you smile.

“Look how wet and desperate you are already. You thought you could compare touching yourself to what I’ll do to you?”

Holding his gaze, you bring your finger covered in his wetness to his parted lips. You put it on his warm, waiting tongue and he blushes harder, pink almost as dark as his cunt spreading over his cheeks and neck, and starts sucking.

“I’ll wreck you. I’ll drive you crazy, make you scream until you lose your voice.”

You kiss his neck and stroke his soft inner thighs, watching his hole pulse and drool eagerly, as his mouth is working on your finger. You slide a second finger through his lips and start gently fucking his mouth, and he moans, his hips bucking involuntarily against an empty air.

You grin, circling his hard nipple, fingers of your other hand sliding over his tongue.

“I bet I can make you cum just from this,” you whisper in his ear. “Just from fucking your pretty mouth and you seeing yourself wide open and wet like a little whore. Have you imagined yourself undone just from that?”

He shudders, his moan muffled by your fingers. In the mirror you both can see how his hole opens wide as it pulses, showing slick pink walls, beads of clear liquid dripping out. He makes a choked gasp when you thrust two of your fingers in and comes immediately, his legs shuddering and hands clutching at your thighs.

You don’t give him time to get a hold of himself, start pumping your fingers inside, stretching his throbbing cunt as it clenches around you. He can feel the pleasure building up, nerve endings still sensitive from orgasm flaring up almost painfully sharp, his pussy makes loud, obscenely wet sounds as you fingerfuck it. He’s panting hard until your free hand slides up to his neck, caresses it gently, but firmly, and he tenses up, mouth open, eyes going unfocused. When you tighten your grip on his neck, your other hand still fucking his tight cunt, he comes hard, eyes rolling back and hips rising from the bed in jerky, trashing motions.

When he finally calms down, sweating and shivering against you, his thighs weak and covered in his own fluids, you catch his chin, force him to meet your eyes with a smirk.

“Still think you can do it yourself?”

He gives you his little spoiled smile, eyes glimmering from under half-lowered eyelids.

“I never do something myself if I can find someone who can do it better.“

Gorou

You notice how he starts fidgeting when you groom his tail, especially when you touch the base of it. It twitches in your hands, and his whole body tenses, while he’s hiding his eyes from you. He tries to be inconspicuous, biting his lips to keep quiet, clutching his hands on his lap, but you can see how he’s rubbing his thighs together, trying to get any friction for his aching cunt.

“Is something wrong?” you ask with concern.

“No!” he protests immediately. He was too busy with rebellion for so long, too focused and preoccupied with being a good general and keeping up respectable image for his troops that he completely neglected his love life, and now he feels too inexperienced, doesn’t know what to do when he realizes that he wants you.

“You seem uncomfortable, should I stop?”

“No, please, I’m fine,” he mutters weakly, still unable to meet your eyes. He’s ashamed, but it just feels so good. When you touch him, liquid warmth pools down in his belly, pulsing so maddeningly sweetly like he’s never felt before.

“Do you want more?” you ask, catching his chin. He blushes brilliantly and, unable to force himself to say it out loud, nods.

“Good boy,” you whisper into his ear when he meekly lets you pull him onto your lap, and he shudders, going weak and dizzy from praise and your hands roaming over his body. He starts squirming when you kiss him, slide your hands under his top to find the small buds of his tender nipples, already hard. His pussy throbs almost painfully, he wants you to touch it so badly it drives him crazy, but instead you run your fingers over his tense stomach, stroke his ass and sensitive base of his tail. He whimpers and bucks his hips against you, cunt already soaking wet and needy, and you chuckle.

“What is it, baby?”

“Please…” he whines. “Please touch me…”

You smirk, kissing trail down his neck, and he writhes desperately in your arms, but freezes when he feels you playing with the band of his pants. You still don’t touch his pussy though, keep drawing teasing circles on his stomach, moving lower and lower, but slow, so torturously slow. At the same time your mouth finds his nipple, hot tongue circling a little hard peak, and he mewls pathetically, arching, drawn tense like a bowstring, his chest rising in quick and shallow breaths under your lips. He feels hazy and overwhelmed, blood ringing in his ears, all his nerves painfully raw, so when your hand finally covers his clit, he comes immediately with a choked gasp, his fingers clutching at your shoulders, hips trembling, instinctively thrusting against your palm.

You smile, holding him close, let him lean on you, rubbing soothing circles over his back, your other hand still in between his legs.

“You’re really so sensitive that you can cum just from that, huh, puppy?”

“I’m sorry…” He blushes even harder, tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, ashamed of himself, but most of all, of the fact that despite just coming, he still feels horny, his hole unsatisfyingly clenching over emptiness, and he wants so badly to have your fingers inside of him.

“It’s okay, baby. You did good. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” he answers so fast and his tail starts swinging so enthusiastically that you chuckle.

“Such a needy little slut,” you finally start massaging his wet aching cunt and he whimpers gratefully despite embarrassment. “Take off your clothes.”

He’s glad to receive orders, he likes clear commands that he can obey and know that he’s doing good, be rewarded for that. He’s pulling his shirt off, but it’s hard, your fingers caressing his pussy distract him, make him shudder and tangle in his cloth. He almost loses his balance, but finally gets free, pink and panting, and you reward him by stroking his clit. He moans, grinds himself against your palm and tries to take off his pants, but he’s too wobbly from pleasure, tugging fruitlessly at his belt.

Impatiently, you pull him down and turn him over, so he’s lying on his stomach, and yank his pants off. He yelps in surprise, but doesn’t struggle, secretly thrilled by how easily and confidently you handle him.

You run your fingers in-between his slick folds, and he instinctively rocks against you, lifting his hips and spreading his knees, his face pressed into the bedsheets. He’s dizzy from desire and the thought of pleasing you, and pangs of shame for acting like this, exposing himself so needily only somehow add to the arousal, make it sharper.

You press a finger against his entrance and scratch his ears.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes…”

You slide your finger into his tiny cunt and despite how wet he is, he’s still so tight that you have to work it in slowly.

“Had you never fingered yourself?”

“No,” he answers quietly, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. He only stroked his clit before, rubbing his thighs together, imagining you touching him, and it was enough for him to cum. Now he’s gasping, arching his back, thrusting up when you start pumping your finger in and out, but when you press another at his entrance, he whimpers pitifully and clenches up.

“Relax,” you tell him, softly stroking his back in reassurance. “You have to open up, puppy.”

He looks up at you over the shoulder, his bright eyes unfocused and gleaming wetly, bangs tousled and plastered over the sweaty forehead.

“But it feels so big…”

“It’s just two fingers. You’ll have to learn how to take in much more than that. You want me to fuck you with a cock, don’t you, baby?”

He bites his lips and nods, blushing violently. You press your thumb against his clit, sending white hot jolts of pleasure through his entire body, and he melts, his hole unclenching so that you can ease another finger in.

“Here we go. Good boy,” you curl your fingers inside of him, making him writhe needily in front of you, then carefully start fucking them in and out, slowly increasing your tempo, until he’s moaning and making tiny whimpers, hips bucking up erratically, fingers clawing at the bedsheets, his mouth going slack so that small string of drool escapes his lips. When you finally take your fingers out, he’s lost count how many times he came, flashes of pleasure rolling over him one after the other, leaving his body limp and his pussy sore, but so satisfied. You pull him to your chest and he curls against you, feeling tired, warm and taken care of.

Kaeya

He doesn’t tell you that it’s his first time. In part, he’s curious if he can pull it off, make you think he knows what he’s doing. He’s confident and graceful enough to seem smooth, and an amazing kisser, tongue sliding against yours on the exquisite edge between sensual and filthy. A blush that would look bright on someone paler just gives his ochre-brown skin a warm pinkish underglow.

Another reason is that inexperience is always a disadvantage and he doesn’t like showing weakness, only lets people have as much power over him as he knows he can take back or work around. He doesn’t want you to know how your lips on his throat make a shiver run down his spine, how a liquid tangle of nervousness and desire grows in the pit of his stomach when you unbutton his shirt, expose more and more of his skin. He shrugs off his jacket with a pointed carelessness, confident smirk never leaving his lips when you fully slide his shirt off his shoulders.

There’s no reason to see this as something special anyway. He wants pleasure, not complications, and if you knew, you might get presumptuous ideas that it means something or, archons forbid, decide to get feelings involved. You might treat him differently, slowly and carefully, like he’s fragile, which he detests. He had to be on guard since he was a small kid, he can handle sex. He likes the unrestrained hunger in your kisses, how roughly you grab his hips to pull him closer, how your hand slides between his legs to find him already wet.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he asks with a smug smirk, unbuckling his belt.

There’s another reason, deep down, in the darkest corners of his mind, that he thinks about only very drunk and doesn’t speak out loud even then. He doesn’t deserve gentleness, judged unworthy and left for dead a long time ago. It’s a good thing that he realized it’s better for everyone if nobody cares about him too much. Sex is just for fun and nothing more.

“I don’t want to waste any more time getting to the good part.”

He lets you push him down on the bed, leans back on his elbows and lifts his hips to help you pull off his pants and underwear, a barely noticeable flinch of his thighs when he stops an instinctive urge to close his legs.

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow with a playful complaint. “And I was looking forward to teasing you a little more.”

“Well then, go ahead. Anything you want, my knight. And I’d love to see how you plan to do it after already…” you flick your eyes over his naked body and smirk, “baring all of your cards.”

He scoffs pridefully, lifting his chin, making sure not to show that you calling his bluff caught him off-guard. It doesn’t matter, he was never the one to back down on his bets. He always liked a challenge and he’ll be damned if he can’t put on a show. If he was marked a sinner just by birthright, might as well get some fun out of it.

So he arches his back and spreads his thighs, an intoxicating feverish thrill from how hungrily you rake your eyes over him mixing with both his own arousal and nervousness into a heady, daring mix. “This is not even half of my cards… and you might never see all of them.”

His heartbeat echoes in his ears, fast and loud, but he holds your gaze with the same teasing smirk as he runs his hand down his body before slipping a finger into his wet cunt. The way you watch him, captivated, hungry, spreads the liquid fire through his veins, he grins wolfishly, wild, radiant. It feels so good, how he can make you move closer just by arching his neck and moving his fingers, like tugging a string, an almost gravitational pull between you bodies, desire strong enough to be honest at least in something, and at least for five fucking minutes it doesn’t matter who he is, just what he is now - wanted.

“Is this teasing enough for you?”

“You win this round without question,” you lean down, hovering over him without touching, and he lets out a breezy chuckle.

“Then what are you waiting for? Give me my prize.”

You claim his smiling lips and slide your finger into him, and he surprisingly feels much tighter than you’ve expected. He takes a few ragged breaths, a torturous, sweet burn of both of your fingers stretching him makes him dizzy. He tries to smile nonchalantly, but it’s a little too much, both pleasure and discomfort and the shamefully shameless way his legs are spread and both of you are moving inside of him, fingers touching, working him up.

He doesn’t want to come undone while you’re still too pulled together, too in control, so he throws his free arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“Come on, fuck me already.”

“You’re still a little tight, baby.”

He scowls, tensing up, so you kiss his jaw soothingly. “Just a bit longer, don’t worry.”

You misinterpret him, he’s not worried that it’ll take longer, he’s worried that you even cared enough to take longer, and even worse, that there’s something small fluttering under his collarbones at the thought that you might care.

“I thought you wanted to get straight to the good part,” he challenges, purposefully arrogant.

“I’ve already got there,” you gently pull his hand out and bring it to your mouth to kiss his knuckles that still have his taste on them. “Seeing you mad with pleasure *is* the good part.”

He blushes, breath hitching for a second, fingers twitching against your lips. Probably because he’s irritated at how stubborn you insist on being for no reason, treating him like he’s made of glass.

“It’s fine. I can handle it. It always feels like this.”

“I don’t know what oafs didn’t bother prepping you properly before fucking,” you ease another finger in, “but I know how to treat a treasure when I get my hands on it.”

“I bet you tell it to any pretty face you get into your bed,” he says dismissively, his face showing nothing, but you can feel him tighten around your fingers. You didn’t expect that he’ll react to the offhand remark and even more, try to hide it, so instead of joking in return, you answer seriously.

“Of course not. And you know that you’re so much more than a pretty face.”

He raises an eyebrow with a crooked smile.

“Oh, really? Could I seduce you with my strategic planning skills? My unmatched talent for creating ice bridges?”

It’s weirdly endearing how inconspicuously he tries to fish for compliments, hiding it under sarcasm. He was always so confident and flirty, you didn’t consider that he might be used to giving compliments more than to receiving them, which seems like a terrible oversight on the parts of both society and you.

“Your sparkling charm. Your effortless sharp wit,” you tell him, intentionally without even a hint of irony, while slowly stroking silky tight walls inside of him. “The way you look after people, even when you hate to admit it. How you are smart, funny, capable and lovely. And too proud to admit that you want anything of this recognized.”

He opens his mouth to retort and somehow can’t find any words, gasping for air, his thoughts tangling uselessly as your fingers move faster and faster, your thumb pressing on his clit.

“See, I couldn’t say it to anyone else,” you whisper into his ear, curling your fingers to hit his sweet spot, feel him pulse and buckle his hips. “Because there’s no one like you, Kaeya.”

It’s the way you say his name, low and tender, that finally unravels him. He moans shakily, digs his nails into your shoulders, rocks himself onto your fingers, toes curling on the bedsheets.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, come on.”

You fuck him through the waves of pleasure, until movements of his hips become jerky and erratic. Then you slow down, but don’t pull your fingers out, just lightly circling his clit with your thumb, and his cunt aches, too sensitive and raw after orgasm. He closes his legs, but it just drives your fingers deeper. Instinctively, he reaches out for you, but you catch his wrists with your free hand, pull them up over his head and feel his walls clench.

“Hmm, you like that, don’t you, baby? You should’ve told me beforehand.”

He didn’t know he liked it himself before the very moment current of arousal ran through his body when you grabbed his wrists. Now, as you hold him down, looming over him, fluttery desire is wounding up tightly in the pit of his stomach.

“Isn’t it more fun to discover things for yourself?” he tries to sound nonchalant, but his voice comes out rugged, huskier than usual. “I told you I don’t show all of my cards at once.”

You chuckle, giving him a light kiss, one of your hands gently stroking the tender underside of his wrist and the other - his swollen clit. He looks gorgeous sprawled under you, slender and long-limbed, muscles tensing under the smooth skin, flushed and breathing heavily in the afterglow, his cunt softly throbbing under your caress.

“Well, I could have prepared something if I knew, but I guess we’ll just improvise.”

You tie his hands to the bedframe with his own cape. He can tell it’s strong enough to keep him from struggling, but not too tight to hurt or stop him if he really wanted to get free. He likes that, the binds on his wrists certainly feel good, but he’s not used to this, would hate to feel actually trapped.

You stroke his inner thighs when you spread them, press the head of your strap\cock against his entrance. He watches you slide into him, breathing heavily through parted lips, hands that tied over his head balling up in fists, but from the intensity of the feeling, not the pain.  

“See? Doesn’t it feel better when you’re fully ready and opened up for me?”

He bites his lip and gives you a deliciously wicked grin, his voice dropping almost to a purr. “Fine, I’ll admit… You win this round.”

You catch his mouth and drive your cock deeper inside, until it’s buried to the hilt, and he moans into your kiss, rises up in a shaky, shuddering wave, his knees trembling closed and falling apart again when you start slowly moving your hips.

He rarely gets drunk enough to lose control, even slightly, no matter how much he drinks, and when he does, it’s always a conscious decision, a trade-off to forget himself just for a little while, even if he fully knows he’s going to feel like shit afterwards. Now he arches into you and closes his eyes with the same feeling, but it doesn’t matter. No one takes dirty talk during sex seriously.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he whispers against your skin, barely audible, all in one breath like taking a shot of firewhiskey, “but tell me that you want me.”

“I want you more than anyone else,” you keep gradually increasing the rhythm of your movements, drink sweet choked gasps from his lips. “I want to take you whole, everything you have,” you reach between the two of you to stroke his clit, and he shudders, his long legs circling your waist to hold you closer. You see his long fingers twitching and reach up with your free arm, cover his tied hands with your own and intertwine your fingers. His breath hitches and he clasps at your hand almost painfully hard, and just for a moment he looks truly vulnerable and raw, no games, no smokes and mirrors.

“Promise me… Tell me that even if…”

He stops himself, shuts his eyes and bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, but the helplessness and yearning in his voice already cuts you like a knife.

“Kaeya, what is it? Tell me, what do you want?” you can feel him closing off no matter how much in your power his body is. “Anything for you, baby, just tell me.”

He comes apart, filled by you, legs tightening around your waist, fingers of his tied hands intertwined with yours, clutching hard enough to make even his tan knuckles whiten. When he’s arching in your arms, he blindly finds your neck with his mouth and lightly grazes it with his teeth, half a kiss and half a bite, leaving just a smudge of blood from his lip. Then he goes slack, his legs falling apart limply, his fingers letting go of you with a final shudder.

You slip out of him, but don’t let go, gently cup his cheek, his unsaid pleas still ringing in your ears.

“Hey, what did you want to say?”

He looks away for a moment, then meets your eyes with his usual easy smile.

“Nothing, You know how people talk gibberish when they’re close.”

Kaeya Part two

[applbottmjeens]

it's the summer- the fem in me thaws out and my hair has been /very/ long lately. don't worry- your boy will return to their androgynous state once Hot Girl Summer passes.

tags (no presh): @welldonekhushi @alypink @revnah1406 @kikiharinezumi @dreamcast641 @vasyandii

New Picrew tag game!

Here's mine! Tagging: @likelyscam @greiiliss @lex-the-lesbiann @apricior @twacn @dip-the-stick and literally anyone else who wants to join, the more the merrier!

[hikari-drkspc]

❅ “In The Name Of Love” ❅

character: yandere! shishio tsukasa [dr. stone]

warning: yandere, implication of m0rder, c0nfin3m3nt, poss3ssiv3 tendencies ; MINOR/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, PUT YOUR AGE IN BIO/PINNED POST TO INTERACT

words: 1.2k

a/n: this is a repost from my main blog (@/hikari-writes) so yes this writing is old + bad, i just moved them here w/o editing bc im lazy and wants to keep reminding myself how bad my writing used to be <3 also this was a request from my main blog!!

“Tsukasa, remember what I told you before?”

You ask in a monotone voice, looking up at your boyfriend who was hugging you from behind.

“I remember every word you say, love, but you have to specify for me to know which one you’re referring to.”

He holds you closer to him and you could feel his warmth seeping in through you. If this were you from 3000 years ago, you would’ve enjoyed his warmth and think of how lucky you were to have someone like him as your lover.

But now, it all just seems so…suffocating.

Ever since he’s been revived back by Senku and joining the Kingdom of Science, he has become more protective and possessive of you.

No, that’s not it.

He’s already shown that kind of behaviour long ago. Maybe you didn’t realize it 3000 years ago because you two just started going out but even before when Tsukasa still was in charge of his own empire, you could’ve at least noticed the red flags he was giving.

He constantly asked you to stay with him and won’t let go of you almost until the end of the day. Even when you were about to try to do something else, he would grab you and force you to sit on his laps.

His grip on you was gentle, but it was enough to make you stay and not move around too much.

You haven’t told this to anyone yet, not even Mirai, but you were actually…dreading the time when Senku will petrify him and revive him back.

All those times when Tsukasa was still in his cryogenic state, everyone kept encouraging you to stay strong and reassuring you that Senku will revive him back soon.

And you would always just reply to them with a wry smile and a “I’m fine,” so as to not worry them.

You originally had thought you were going to feel depressed about this whole ordeal too. But you never did.

In fact, you felt so…free. Almost as if a big burden had just been lifted from your shoulders. You were happy with that.

You actually even wished Senku never found the Petrification Weapon. You truly enjoyed the freedom that you felt. You wished it would stay.

But in the end, nothing ever stays.  

Tsukasa was revived and you are back in his grip once again.

You hated every moment of it.

“About being too protective of me! I was just going to help Gen with some of his work. I know you’re protective of me because you’re worried, but can you please just let me do something to help others?”

You finally break free from his hug and turn to him. Your eyebrows are crossed, showing how displeased you are with the whole situation.

“But if I let go of you, you’ll definitely run away from me.”

Your eyes widened at what he said. You didn’t expect him to feel that way. All this time, you had thought that the reason Tsukasa was so overprotective of you might’ve been because he was worried…or maybe even because he wanted to have control of you.

You went quiet for a moment. In a sense, he’s not wrong. But to actually know he felt that way…it’s actually making you feel guilty.

“Tsukasa….I won’t run away from you, so don’t worry, alright?”

You wrap your arms around his large frame, successfully convincing him that you won’t do something like that. He returns the hug and pulls you closer.

“…Y/N, if you truly mean what you said, will you forgive me for what I’m about to do?”

You pull away and look up at him, confused.

“Sure?”

Not even a second after that, you felt your consciousness slowly slipping away from you. You could hear the loud throbbing from your neck after Tsukasa just striked it.

“W-wh…”

You mustered up what little strength you have left to let out a “What?” but even that has proven to be difficult. All you managed to hear was Tsukasa’s last words before you completely lost your consciousness.

“Do forgive me for doing this, love. You’re too pure to be tainted by this dirty world.”

~~**~~

You slowly open your eyes to see the darkness greeting you. You tried to get up but your whole body felt so weak and your limbs refused to work for you. You cursed under your breath and tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness. The place sure seemed familiar.

Then it hit you.

It’s the prison.

You tried to scream out loud but your voice only echoed throughout the prison without anyone responding. You could feel your heart beating rapidly like never before as soon as you heard a series of footsteps nearing you.

It’s not as if you recognized the footsteps or anything, but the way the pace is so calm and unrushed even after your scream of help convinced you that the owner of the footsteps knew you’re trapped in there. And they’re not willing to let you out anytime soon.

And who else would want to do such things other than your former beloved,

“Tsukasa…”

You hissed out his name while glaring at his broad figure towering over you over the cell wooden bars.

“I’m sorry you had to go in here, my love. Trust me, I don’t want you to be placed here either, but I have no choice.”

He tried to cup your cheeks in his hands but you quickly moved your face away from him.

“Tsukasa, whatever this madness is, STOP it. Do you think the others won’t know what you’re doing? Soon enough, you will—”

“They won’t. After all, you are considered dead in their hearts.”

He cut you off with those words and your eyes widened in horror at him. Your lips tremble and you try to hide your unease by glaring at him.

Before you could ask him what he meant, he spoke up as if he had just read your mind.

“I told them that you died. An animal attack, precisely. It’s completed with evidence and all. I did also get some helping hand from some people though. Couldn’t have done it without them.”

He stops for a moment to look at you who were frozen in your place and finally cups both your cheeks to bring it closer to him.

“This cell was built especially for you, back when I still ruled over my own empire. It’s located very deep into this cave, and no one would dare to come here.”

“You mean to say you’ve been planning to put me in confinement for a long time now?! What— I-”

Tsukasa looks at you, his eyes turning soft and he looks so melancholic. You almost snapped at him when you saw that expression. If anyone here is supposed to cry, it’s YOU, not him.

“I didn’t think it was necessary…until recently. When other people started looking at you as if you’re some kind of walking meat that they’re about to devour.  It disgusts me so much, and I couldn’t handle it anymore…so I made the decision to keep you safe here….and wipe those people out.”

Your blood runs cold at that statement.

Wipe those people out?

He couldn’t have meant that literally….right?

“W-why–”

You didn’t even realize your tears were running down your cheeks until you felt Tsukasa gently wiped them away. He gives you his soft smile that you used to know so very well, yet it felt so foreign now.

“Because I love you, Y/N. I always have and will continue to forever be in love with you.”

[yzafre]

Skelkatraz is a pain to play through on repeat runs, but narratively? Man. The whole sequence is so cool.

((ahahaha, reposting this bc I put it on the wrong blog (┬┬﹏┬┬) ))

Anyways! Lineart version only, since I thought it looked really good.

[undeadgoonie]

the barbie movie was Really good and i was alpha girl brainrotting so. doodle. (repost bc i put it on the wrong blog shhhh)

[mulderscully]

Other anon embarrasing themselves and speaking as they just joined tumblr.

This site it is dying. You may see gisfets with thousands of notes, but its not as often as a few years ago even, not even talking pre 2014-16 (also theyre mostly from ppl with thousands of followers and owners of blogs like bbelcher and such).

Gifmakers stopped making gifs cause people stopped reblogging, simple as that. I myself stopped making gifs cause i was frustrated, spending entire afternoons on gifsets for them to get 500 notes. Now dont get me wrong, i was grateful for those, but having been here for literally 11 years, i know what real engagement looks like, ive seen gifsets, some of mine included, get 20k notes in hours.

So, yeah anon, this site is slowly dying whether you see it or not.

exactly, thank you.

like it's not even that 500 notes is bad it's that if you were a gifmaker here when the site wasn't dying you know that a set doing WELL at 500 is awful because what does it say about everything else? the only way to get thousands of notes now is to gif something IMMEDIATELY after it drops. and then after like two weeks people stop caring. i giffed red white & royal blue the first two weeks after it came out and some of those sets have 5-8k, now i make sets of the movie and sit at around 500 because people don't want to engage with things long term. and it's fine! but gifmaking takes time and work and this website has aged. a lot of us have jobs or kids and to sit there and spend time on something takes effort and at a certain point you start to wonder what the point even is, esp when you know that someone is probably reposting the stuff you made onto other platforms and stealing your ideas and getting all the engagement. there just isn't the same sense of community there once was and that's the saddest part.

but i try to encourage my fellow gifmakers, you know WHY? because i like reblogging beautiful sets and if people feel like their work is for nothing then what the hell am i gonna reblog? nothing bc ppl will quit and then how can i put things in my digital scrapbook? the creator and reblogger relationship is a two way street.

[iloveschiaparelli]

My issues with this post:

[Image ID: Tumblr post by @/Correllian with a picture of a blue gradient with white text that says "It's not neurotypical or neurodivergent. It's vanilla or neurospicy." The caption says "Why be plain, when you can be spicy? 'normal' is overrated and boring." The post has 0 notes. /.End ID]

Note: I wrote this post intending for it to be a reblog, but upon viewing the rest of the contents of the profile I decided I did not want to engage with the blog's owner since the "facebook republican" vibe was extremely strong, and I do not want to argue with this person. My goal with the post is to educate, and I do not see that being productive with this person. If that seems like a stupid reason to screenshot instead of reblogging, or rude, let me know and I will repost as a reblog. But for the time being iIwould like to avoid engaging with the blog's owner and simply talk about this specific post.

***

I keep seeing this come up in my feed and ive been mostly ignoring it bc it makes me slightly uncomfortable but then i saw it had 0 notes which either means im the only one seeing it or the people seeing it also feel the same way i do (maybe??)

Anyway it's not even a big deal TBH but here's why I don't really like this, I'm not trying to be insulting or anything I just want to be informative and LITERALLY this is not important enough of a problem to warrant the quantity of words I'll be using, but that's just how I am. Sorry.

First of all, the neurodivergent/typical label first came from a journalist who wanted to acknowledge that not every condition is a disorder and that there are natural variations in how peoples' brains work. So, to refer to ADHD and autism as "neurodivergent" rather than "broken" or "disordered", with the goal of putting into perspective that you, as a person, are not broken or that there is "something wrong with you" just because you are autistic or ADHD.

It's popular now, but neurodiversity labels haven't been in widespread use for very long despite being coined in 1998 by Harvey Blume. A lot of the push for neurodiversity labels came from the autistic community and so it's kind of a victory of sorts to be able to use them instead of referring to people as "normal" vs "autistic/ADHD", since categorizing people into "normal" and "other" boxes naturally creates a sense of otherness, both in the minds of people on the neurodivergent side and the neurotypical side.

In addition to confronting this issue, the neurodivergent labels are also just, more accurate? There isn't really even a definition of what "normal" means, and it implies the absence of problems altogether which we know is not true because nearly everyone in the world experiences some kind of mental or physical problem, of varying severities. It could be depression, it could be an allergy, it could be a disability beyond depression.

The word Neurotypical on the other hand is targeted specifically to the brain (Neuro) and rather than using a vague term like normal, uses the term Typical. We as a society generally use the word Typical interchangeably with normal, but specifically usually as a way to describe someone who fits the characteristic of whatever group they are in, or someone's actions that fit the characteristics of their other actions. Essentially, to describe someone or something that is consistent with a "type".

"Sweating and increased heart rate are typical experiences for those engaging in intense physical exercise."

"Sarah is always late to things! She isn't here at the party yet, and it started two hours ago. How typical of her."

Therefore, Neurotypical specifically refers to either people or behaviors that are consistent with the most common set of neurological conditions and behaviors, or with the most common neurotype.

Neurodivergent simply means anyone who deviates from this neurotype, which is why it's a blanket term for autism and ADHD. It could also be expanded to include other neurotypes as well, although I'm not familiar with them all, if there are any.

The first problem I have with this comment about ditching Neurotypical/Neurodivergent for Vanilla/Neurospicy is that people in the autism community are quite divided on whether neurospicy is a further-stigmatizing or infantalizing alteration to neurodivergent. One discussion of why can be found in this tik tok here. (It's like 10 seconds long). Although there is a pretty large group of neurodivergents who are OK with and even enjoy the use of Neurospicy, it seems that there is an equally large group of neurodivergents that are not and do not.

I am included in that second group, but my roommate is in the former. As long as she does not use neurospicy as a term to describe me, I do not mind if she jokes about it for herself! However, this post states in a very matter-of-fact tone typical of facebook posts that not only should vanilla/neurospicy be used, but that neurotypical/neurodivergent should not be used. The text in this image goes out of its way to invalidate existing, widely used labels in favor of ones that many see as stigmatizing or infantalizing. Both of which are huge problems for the ADHD/Autism community, especially the latter group due to developmental delay associated with autism. The societal attitude surrounding this word is similar to the reaction to "Is he acoustic" which for some autistics is a funny joke, but objectively still causes harm because of the way it is weaponized by neurotypicals to make fun of autistic traits and autistics in general by posting the audio or cracking the joke whenever someone does something "weird" or unexplainable. I've even seen acoustic used to describe an object that has stopped working properly (broken = autistic). Neurospicy is, although much less frequently, used in a similar way by neurotypicals to make jokes about autistics in ways that are not always respectful and can be harmful.

The text in the post itself goes even further to say "'normal' is overrated and boring." The word Normal is not used prior to this in the post, but by context it seems to refer to the neurotypicall/neurodivergent labels as "normal" labels and is saying that they are overrated and boring, and that using Neurospicy instead is different and therefore good.

The second problem I have with this post is the use of the word Vanilla. This one is much more of a subjective problem, since different people will gather different things from seeing this word based on what kind of content they regularly interact with. Personally, when I see the word vanilla it usually makes me think of ice cream or Minecraft mods, but in this post it's used right alongside the word "spicy" and normally the only place we see those two words used together in the same context is in the kink/bdsm community. As someone who used to be aspec and still resonates with those experiences, the idea of associating my neurological identity in any way with sexual activity or kink is extremely disturbing. This one is much, much less likely to be intentional, but I wanted to include it simply for complete honesty.

All this together, just causes this post to make me mildly uncomfortable, which is why I've declined to interact with it so far and have scrolled past it mostly. While I don't disparage the use of the words "vanilla/neurospicy" for people to describe themselves if they are comfortable with it, I find the notion of demanding, intentionally or not, that everyone use them and that our chosen labels be taken away from us to be very frustrating and uncomfortable.

I am aware that these effects are likely completely unintended, and once again I am really not trying to make a big deal out of it. My goal is simply to explain why this post has made me somewhat uncomfortable and may do the same to other people.

[infernaltheblaze]

i think he's neat so i'm figuring out how to draw him and his dumb face (affectionate)

(Repost bc I put this in the wrong blog OOPS LMAO)

[eatanorange]

The Commodification of Friendship

I've seen it. You've seen it. This post is not in reaction to that post so aptly and beautifully put by tumblr user vikingfunerals. I am reacting to the person I know well who reposted it to an instagram story. A partner, a friend, a situationship, whatever they want to call themself in relation to me and the way we care for eachother. I'd call them my partner but thats besides the point, too, rather it explains the level of my emotional response.

Never have I been more irate to see a post I agree with wholeheartedly. Again, I'm yelling at someone in my personal life, but in a safe expression of anger way bc they don't know I have this account, and not op.

This is a letter to them through an anonymous blog to the void so that I can stay true to myself and a boundary I recently drew with them due to their insistence that I tell them what I need, what they can do for me, and the moment I did they push it off, push me off to the boundaries of their life, because they're too busy burning themself out for everyone else to have time to let this be good.

to let something (our curated relationship) be good, be for them, as much as it is for me, with plenty of reciprocity but no transactional nature. Because god forbid I want to fulfill their needs, too.

how dare you post something about the commodification of friendship and the duty we have to be there for each other, and then refuse to let anyone do that for you.

As if all the people you 'need' to please somehow made you forget along the way that you're a person too. One with *gasp* needs. How dare you post this as a scapegoat for developing boundaries. Even atlas needed a spine to hold up the sky.

that post, coming from you? A diluted take from an emotionally dehydrated person, whose ash remnants of personality grate the healthy lungs and sting the eyes of those who care for you. You won't see me expecting a spark from a lighter with no fluid left.

the post in question:

now imagine you're me, reading that posted by someone who doesn't ask for anything. who consistently exhibits signs of burnout, who is pessimistic to a point that they are unable to tell me what works for them, the only phrasings they know are to point out what is 'wrong' or not working. Who is a friend to me, no questions asked, but doesn't let me be their friend back because of their insistence that that would make it commodification. Imagine how frustrating it is to be cared for by someone, to let them show that care, and then when you try you're met with "there's nothing anyone can do". I'd imagine op doesn't want you to endlessly prioritize your DIScomfort too. Fool (/loving anger, rage of afab ancestors, etc).

You believe this post? You want to embody this? Ask for help/support then. I dare you. Double dare. Believe that I actually would at the drop of a hat. Because you're my friend. Because I love you. Because you're a human being who innately deserves to be taken care of, too. That's the point of the goddamn post. Fuck you.

[pinklofthousecookie]

mini doodles :)

i was seeing all these cute chibi versions of the boys and i thought i could make my own!

i always wondered what it would be like to babysit them so this is what i would do with them all if i was babysitting them :)

i was thinking that cartman would be super hard to babysit but honestly if you just buy him some kfc, give him an ipad and leave him alone he would probably be fine

i’d wanna take stan to the park, we could walk sparky, play on the playground, and maybe bring a ball to play some games together!

i thought that kyle would be more of a storyteller type of person so we would probably grab his toys or plushies and play doctor, or house, or do whatever he wants (i also thought maybe art stuff or chalk on the driveway)

and finally kenny, i wanted to make his day very special because he is poor and doesn’t have much, i thought it would be nice to go to disneyworld/universal/six flags and go on some rides- i was lucky enough to go to all of those when i was little so i wanted kenny to experience it too (i would take them all to the theme parks if i could)

there is also a picture of me crying bc of how cute they look (the eyes were inspired by autism creature lmao)

as a bonus for my invader zim people i tried to draw gir but he looked so bad 😭 to put him out of his misery i made him crippled to show it’s not his fault 🥲

as much as i would love to draw more and make more jewelry with plushie kenny i am prepping for dance competition season soon and i am trying to get an important solo part in a group dance 🙏

i’ll try to be reposting and blogging more though :)

edit (PLEASE READ): omg guys i got so scared for a second because apparently the post was labeled mature (i fixed it tho dw) idk if you guys find this mature or not (i thought it was just a silly cute post 🥲) but like im so sorry if something seems wrong i just wanted this to be a cute little doodle post 😭🙏