#riff asks

[zlixlriffs]

they are pixelated

Yooo! I adore these. 10/10

[5ch4denfreude]

Abt your Scott pilgrim rhythm game au! I'm also a big rhythm game fan and a spto fan lol and I wanted to throw my hat in the ring Would you want the bands to be of equal size? If not, you could take inspo from smth like nesters and have random bands be much smaller, like the katayanagis being their own thing (like in the movie) and Gideon being a solo act (cuz of the G-man thing)

Hello anon!!!! :))

To answer ye old question,

Remember how I mentioned there would be bands like the exes, crash and the boys, clash at demonhead and sex bob-omb?

Not all bands would be equal size. For example lets say the exes consist of 5 people - the vocalist, the bassist, guitarist, pianist and drummer. Sometimes in other bands there would just be 4 - vocalist, drummer, bassist and the dj dude guy (Neil in the movie.)

But! Even though not all bands would have 5 people! What I'm doing here is keeping an average of 4 people per band. With bands like Clash at Demonhead and Crash and The Boys - I'll be tossing other characters and try to mix them in.

In conclusion; Your idea is still interesting though! I will think about it. Thanks for asking anon!!

(and don't be shy to ask anything :3)

[ohposhers]

will we be getting any fliff content anytime soon chat? 😔

FINE FINE FINE FINE here is a super old doodle of Barb pushing raunchy music onto Floyd much to Riff's embarrassment 0rgy is actually one of my favorite bands of all time give them a listen RIGHT NYOW!!!

[jimmy-wilson]

House: giving gifts shows how much you don't know/love people, for example your gift to your ex wife sucked

Wilson: bet. *Gets House the most thoughtful gift fucking ever, signs it "Dear Greg, made me think of you," a name he's never used in casual conversation, and wraps it nicely to leave on Houses desk for a holiday Wilson doesn't even celebrate*

House: *never opens it, keeps it safe for an entire year then uses it to trick his employees into thinking he has a girlfriend*

Wilson: *hears of last year's present to House, unopened, in the hands of Houses subordinates the next year and 365 days previous and proceeds to make up a story about The One Who Got Away, whom House "met" about the same time Wilson met him*

The ducklings: whoever got you that present is in love with you

IM GOING INSANE YALL

[braisedhoney]

Gaster but he says “oya oya”. Trust me on this.

is this it. is this what you wanted from me.

[blakbonnet]

you had one queer disabled character and yall killed him ✋

actually i think Izzy has always been a figment of Ed's imagination like Badminton was to Stede - it was supposed to be a parallel - and Izzy was never a real character, he's a manifestation of everything Ed hates about himself come to life in the form of all things he despises and loathes - the palest of white people, loud and boorish, a bully through and through, and the fact that he only found his queer joy at the exact moment Ed and Stede made love is testatemnt to this theory, and he died when Ed no longer needed a ghost substitute of his father, in this Ted talk i will-

[wallbeatjournal]

Are true riverdale fans of the opinion it is a very good and nearly flawless show or does being a true riverdale fan mean being able to mock writing choices

it's long-running serial television plotted a season/half at a time so definitely not even "nearly" flawless.

BUT. i'm not doing combat with the writing team. i'm not actively reading against the text the way i have to in order to enjoy something like supernatural or the 90s robin comics or the fucking sopranos, which are patriarchal christiancore copworld rapeworld white supremacist horrorshows that hate their minority audiences, with like 2 good creatives involved and martyring themselves to fight the good fight on sparse rare installments if you try to approach them sincerely.

riverdale writing staff are like a favorite smart problematic tumblr mutual to me. I don't always like what's on their blog or who they're referencing. but we're in the same community and i'm interested and inspired and i trust their agenda overall, even when i see shit i wouldn't have fucking posted. but bc i'm not being condescended to or actively spited i'm not gonna condescend to or spite them, you know?

i expect rvd to age like twin peaks (another very uneven, highly referential serial juggling a couple of intensely cool metanarratives on top of its core story). and twin peaks fandom mocks twin peaks all the time. twin peaks includes some CLUNKY shit. it's kitsch. it's camp. it has a second season that is largely ASS. james is there. and on top of that it also includes some genuinely offputting-to-me stuff that just bothers me to sit through, even though i feel like i understand and respect what they're going for with it. i just don't want to watch someone sweep the fucking bar for minutes and minutes as entertainment. OK!!?

...so yeah. mock riverdale but in the right spirit. is that an answer? do i sound like i'm chugging the flavoraid koolaid fresh-aid? probably.

[jesuistrestriste]

sage I have art donaldson ideas and ik it's 3 am but HEAR ME OUT.....

he wins for the first time in like forever and reader let's him o whatever he wants and hes like dominant but not in a bitchy way he just took control and it's making me 🥴🥴

bri omfg u have me thinking thoughts rn. . .

this type of dom!art is what i'm trying to incorporate into pt. 2 of you're such a loser, but i'm making this a separate drabble bc im thinking abt this concept too hard now

the way that i'm writing this instead of finishing pt. 2 of YSAL is crazy

content warnings: soft dom!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, praise, gentle throat fucking, kinda fluffy.

word count - 2k

---- ✩ nsfw below, 18+ ✩ ---

The large crowd in the stands behind you burst up from their seats and roar with praise and cheers as Art successfully wins the volley against his opponent, resulting in the winning score of 7-5 for him. You can't help but jump up from your seat too, clapping your hands together and shouting things like "YES!" and "there we go!"

Weirdly, you felt like crying on behalf of your player. This had actually been his first win in over several months. He had hit a real slump about a year ago, and beat himself up for it, which only worked to decrease his overall morale and result in more losses down the line. You never actually told him this, but you were genuinely worried that his career might be over.. that he might never win again. But here the two of you were: many long mornings, afternoons, and nights of training and practice later, and he had fucking won.

A huge grin was splayed across his pink, sweaty cheeks as the score was announced and he went to shake his opponent's hand. The other player put on a brave face, shaking Art's hand, but as soon as your husband's back was turned, the player's face dropped into a display of resentment and anger. You scoffed at this, feeling a sense of pride in your partner and smugness at his win. This might have been a slightly hypocritical reaction on your part, though, as Art had been the resentful loser one too many times in the past year. You shrug the feeling of cognitive dissonance off. Who cared? He had his mojo back now.

Art jogs off of the court and makes a b-line right for your open arms, which he joyfully runs into before lifting you off of the ground and spinning you a bit. Once your feet are back on earth, you pull away to look into his eyes, and they are positively beaming with happiness and confidence. It was like looking at a whole new man! You brushed some wet pieces of hair from the middle of his forehead back into place, and then cupped his cheek. He smiled into your touch, and then pulled you back into his chest.

"You did such a good job, pretty boy. I'm so damn proud of you," you spoke quietly in his ear as he held you. He squeezed you tighter, letting you know how much he appreciated your praise.

"Thank you," he whispers.

You pull back and take one of his hands in two of yours.

"Let's get back to the hotel, yeah?" you smiled, and he nodded tiredly with a grin before using the back of his free hand to wipe beading sweat from his temples.

--

The taxi drops the two of you off outside of the huge hotel, and you both exit the vehicle after you pay the fare with your credit card. Art takes your hand in his with a renewed sense of self-assuredness, and you smile at him as you both walk into the building and take the elevator up to the twelfth floor.

Upon arrival, you pull the key card from your pocket and hold it gently over the red light above the door handle. A brief beeping noise is emitted and then the light is green. You turn the door handle and step inside, Art so close behind you that you can actually feel his body grazing the back of yours, and the door shuts quickly after. As you begin to pivot your body and congratulate him once more, he's suddenly all over you before you can even speak--

He's grabbing hungrily at the fabric of your dress, hiking it up and gripping your soft thighs, as he leans in to bite and suck at your neck. You can actually feel his canines nearly puncturing your skin as he places one of his palms at the nape of your neck so that you can't pull away from him.

"mm-! fuck!" you moan softly, using one of your hands to grab a handful of his hair while the other wraps around his upper back. He groans as you press your body against his, almost grinding into him.

"wh-what.. what are you doing?" you breathe out, swallowing thickly as he continues to leave bruises and bite marks on your flesh that are wonderfully sore and stinging.

He licks at your neck before responding, "I'm just so proud of us, and I want you to understand how proud I am."

The warmth of his breath kind of tickles and gives you goosebumps as you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your panties.

"You can do whatever you want, love. You've earned it," you whisper into his ear, and then he's hooking his middle finger onto the inside of your underwear and pulling them down to your upper thighs in one smooth motion.

"I know I have, now jus' let me play with you a little,"

He rubs circles into your clit with his thumb, while his other fingers slide through your slick folds.

"You like this? Me having complete control over you?" he coos.

You nod, whining as you lift your leg to wrap it around the back of his legs and give him more access to your parts. He plays with your needy pussy for a couple of minutes more before you can feel his clothed erection pressing against your leg. He pauses his finger's movements, and breathes heavily against your shoulder.

"Kneel."

A beat of silence. There is no noise, except for the faint echo of your heavy breathing. You buck your hips against his hand.

"Wha-?" you mumble, still riding the high of your previously fast-approaching orgasm.

"You heard what I said, babe. On your knees for me," he saids gruffly, before pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

Without hesitation, you drop down to the floor, kneeling in front of him and making direct eye contact with the tent in the front of his white athletic shorts. He runs a hand though your hair, peering down at you with admiration as you begin to reach down and rub at your own clit. Art smiles at your desperation, and then he's pulling down his shorts and boxers until they're almost to his knees.

He holds his stiff cock out and gives it a couple stokes, which makes him toss his head back in pleasure, before he wiggles it slightly in front of your nose. He bends down and forward to give you a sloppy, warm kiss on the lips before he's back to standing upright. Two of his fingers from his free hand tap the underside of your chin.

"Open up, baby. I wanna put it in your mouth so bad.."

You oblige, opening your mouth up wide and letting your tongue loll out and rest against your bottom lip. Your brows turn up in arousal as you continue to get yourself off with your fingers, staring up at your pretty husband. This whole situation was so incredibly hot, given Art's lifelong streak of submission. He rarely took the reigns, but you guessed that today's win must have flipped a switch that had previously been off and lying dormant within him.

He takes a step closer to you and places his leaking tip onto your tongue, which you promptly wrap your lips around and engulf in the wet heat of your mouth.

An involuntary whimper tumbles from his lips at the feeling, but he tries to stifle it by pressing his lips tightly together. He grabs a fistful of your hair, and shallowly bucks his hips into your mouth. Your tongue swirls incessantly around the limited portion of his cock that he's gifted you, and you make sure to swallow whatever drips out.

"Okay, honey, listen to me," he groans, hips still twitching, "I'm going to fuck your throat now, but I promise I'll be careful. You can tap my leg twice if you want to stop. Nod if you understand me."

You nod, his erection still filling your mouth, and you look up at him with pleading eyes. You want this just as much as he does.

"Good girl," he says softly, praising your obedience.

He slowly pushes his hips closer to your lips, successfully stuffing his length down your throat. It takes a second for you to get adjusted to the slightly unpleasant feeling, and you choke a little around him. He studies your face as he continues to stuff your mouth full, making sure that you don't look too uncomfortable or uneasy.

"There you go, baby.. taking me so well, oh ffffu-uck-"

His hips are now pressed flush to your lips, and your eyes well up with tears as you feel the stretch of your throat. You feel a bit of drool drip down your chin and land on your leg below.

Art delicately grabs your head with both of his hands now, brushing some of your hair behind your ear, and then he starts to thrust needily into your mouth. At first, it's small jerks of his hips, but these jerks soon turn into full-on pumps of heady cock in and out of your throat. Your head feels fuzzy at the sensation of this, plus your approaching orgasm and the lack of direct access to oxygen.

"mm-mm-mm-mf-!" you whine high in your chest as he fucks your mouth mercilessly, lost in his own storm of arousal and desperation. Your other hand moves to grip his leg and steady your body from rocking back and forth. You wanted to be a good toy for him right now. After all, he had worked so hard today.

He moves one of his hands to cup your lower jaw and uses his dominant one to grab your hair and hold it back from your face in a make-shift ponytail. All the while, he's still pumping your throat full of his dick, as he lets out low groans and muffled whimpers.

Your body starts to tremble and you squeeze your eyes shut as your fingers rubbing your sensitive nub bring you closer and closer to the edge. Art immediately takes notice, and you can feel the way his length twitches and jumps with interest as it pummels your mouth.

"Are you close..? I'm getting close.. I'm so close.." he moans out loudly, gripping your hair with ferocity.

You release a drawn-out whimper, alerting him that you were ready to cum any second, and he looks down at you with unadulterated delight.

"So pretty when you're cumming, babe, let me see you cum while you're sucking me down,"

At the processing of his words, your eyes quickly glaze over as you start to squirt all over your hand and the floor beneath you. Your body shakes with the waves of your orgasm as you cum, yet you still make sure that you're lavishing his erection with adequate attention.

He moans as he watches your hips arch in the aftershocks of your release, and then his hips are stilling as his balls draw up-

"Oh FUCK, oh fuck me, I'm cumming I'm nnnghh-!"

You feel a warm and rapid flow of liquid down your throat that follows the sound of his cries of ecstasy, and you instinctively swallow it all. Every single drop, and this effectively works to milk his cock dry as he continues to spill into your mouth and whimper with each throb and pulsation of his orgasm.

After he rides out the last bit of his high, Art attempts to catch his breath as he slowly pulls himself out of your mouth. You cough and splutter a bit, having gotten used to the full-feeling, and then swallow a few times to soothe your used throat.

"Where did that.. where did that come from?" you gasp out, also trying to regain the steadiness of your breathing.

He laughs softly with raised brows, before blowing out a harsh breath of air through puckered lips. His brows knit together in genuine surprise and contemplation.

"I honestly have no idea, but I kinda liked it."

You smile up at him, wiping at your spit-covered chin.

"Me too.. maybe this will be a new incentive for you to win," you tease.

"If that's how it's gonna be, I'll win every match from now on," he smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"You're on."

---

im thinking so many thoughts.

ps. sorry if there's any errors, i wrote this at 3 am :,)

[grim-ghosty]

Ok grim, I gotta know what “the attack” and “WHY DID I DO THAT” are 😭

ok so here is a little snippet of "the attack"

It's a little comic about how bounty hunter branch got his eye scar. it's a pretty old comic that I would have to update for my new style and stuff.

as for "WHY DID I DO THAT" it about this one time when I had a big crush on his one kid and how I was fumbling the whole time talking to him, but it's with my trollsona and Riff. Like I punched his guy in the shoulder like in the movies. I was going through it. Here is a little snippet of that.

[tangledinink]

*cries in fucking wings*

why do you think i draw his stupid little wings like this

[cocksley-and-catapult]

Oo wee oo I look just like liam cocksley oo wee oo and you're fucking. Catapult

[zlixlriffs]

Zlixllllll did u find pixlriffs old tumblr blogggggggg

Yeah and I also found this

Sometimes things aren’t meant to be shared anon.

[riffraffruff]

A funny moment from Richard O’Brien and Patricia Quinn’s commentary on The Rocky Horror Picture Show where they’re discussing Riff Raff and Magenta’s relationship

[ohposhers]

hell mr.Eddie I would like to request some fliff please

(I really like your art)

aye aye captain here is a doodle of floyd being delusional

[ask-riff-lorton]

OMFG I LOVE U. (platonically, your honor). omg omg omg do u interact with the newsies shit too??? (i'm @ask-sarah-jacobs)

' hah Im flattered! and I interact with some of the lads. So I guess my answer for that is yes '

[yallemagne]

Seeing how we've established we want Morph and Erik friendship goals.

Morph: You know what. Screw this! I want out of this Jean, Maddie, Scott and Logan bullshit.

Morph: Scoot over Rogue! Let me sit on Erik's lap+

Erik: What?

Logan: WHAT?!

Morph: Come on Mags. We'd go great together. I'm bald. You're old, powerful and violent. I'd bring out the fun in you. You make me feel pretty

Erik:

Erik: You don't feel pretty?

Morph: If we don't make Rogue jealous. We'd definitely make the professor envious

Erik:

Erik: Okay now-

Morph: I'm not hearing a no!

Erik: I...am not saying a yes.

Logan: **rolls eyes*

Morph would soooo insert themselves into others' relationship drama. They're just so tired of basking in the angst of watching the man they love pine over the ultimate power couple: a duo who could only be wedged apart by a clone of one of them. Girls (gender neutral) just wanna have fun.

And they'd get so fucking into it. They're like "I'm sick of this baby garbage, I want some real drama. I'm gonna go fuck with the Magneto/Rouge/Gambit with a sprinkling of Chuck thing going on over there. And listen when I tell you: I'm going all the way. I was never able to chink the armour of Grey Summers and get between those two to stir the pot, but I'm playing multiple teams here, buddy, you just watch, I'm romancing all of you. You're all gonna be fighting over me by the end of this, and you won't even know where you started."

The whole team is watching on in horror like "this is worse than when they were being mind-controlled by Mister Sinister..."

(also I love Erik hearing Morph's pitch and only replying "...you don't feel pretty?" like he's already geared up to shower Morph with compliments after it's implied they're insecure. man is hooked.)