#so im hoping to get more of those in this year! :)

[ganondoodle]

another WIP, but i can tell im running out of steam here, i still have to finish this one, the second phase and the beast one though .......

(in the second phase he reforms his right arm out of malice and uses it like the player uses links shiekah arm, it stretches like the hookshot to grab you from a distance etc. - beast is mostly typical beast attacks, then theres a cutscene, you think its over and zelda steps up to use her sealing power mimicking the scene from botws end, but he wakes back up and cuts off half her right hand, whichs disables her as a companion for the last and final fight- i want it to be actually extremely challenging; he will now mix up multiple attacks from all previous phases, switching between patterns of a beast to that of the skilled swordsman you fought him as right at the start of it, including dodging your perfect dodges back ..)

(WIP for "botw2" project)

perhaps we are getting somewhere with this ganondorf design after all ............. the patterns have been taking me forever and are far from done, i want to incorporate the colorful flower petal-ish design of the botw gerudo but still make him look different and more practical

[lyvhie]

hai!!! could i request a idol! mark smut :(( where reader is missing him but hes too busy with work but then he surprises her over the new years!!!

happy new year to u!!! <3 sending u hugs and kisses

a nice surprise | lee mark

mark lee x fem!reader (18+ mdni) ꒰ summary ꒱ you were already expecting to spend another special occasion alone, but your boyfriend just wanted to surprise you. ꒰ a/n ꒱ little edit! OOPS IT WASNT AN ANON HELP MEEE!! IM SORRY, CUTIE I DIDNT SEE YOUR NAME thats embarrassing omg 🫣 happy new year to you too! i'm sorry it took me so long to write, i was really sick 😖 BUT I FINISHED!! i hope you like it and ALSO wishing you aaaall the best this year, mwah! 💖 ꒰ cw ꒱ smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, pet names.

When you started dating a famous person, you knew things wouldn’t be easy. Paparazzi, overzealous fans, and the constant need for caution every time you stepped outside, those challenges came with the territory. You’d prepared yourself for it, and over time, those things became just another part of your daily routine, barely registering as problems anymore.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how difficult the distance would be.

Being away from Mark for days, weeks, sometimes even months, felt like torture. The only thing keeping you sane was the existence of technology—video calls, texts, and voice messages filled the gaps when he was free. But it wasn’t the same. There were nights when the loneliness hit harder than usual, when a screen or the sound of his voice through the phone just couldn’t replace the warmth of his presence. You didn’t just want him; you needed him there, right beside you.

But you knew that, no matter how much you longed for his presence, things couldn’t just change on a whim. Mark couldn’t simply drop everything he was doing to spend a day with you—even though he’d suggested it more times than you could count. The thought alone made your heart ache and swell at the same time, knowing how much he cared but also understanding the weight of his responsibilities.

Still, Mark always found a way to remind you that you were on his mind, no matter how far apart you were. Like the random voice notes he’d send in the middle of the night, whispering about his day because he knew you'd listen to them first thing in the morning. Or the surprise delivery of your favorite snacks and flowers with a note that simply read, "Thinking of you. Always."

It wasn’t the same as having him there, but it was enough to keep you going.

“So… you really won’t be here tonight?” The disappointment in your voice was clear as you lay on your bed, hugging the pillow tightly and pressing your cellphone against your ear. “You couldn’t make it for Christmas, and now this…”

He was supposed to come home today, and at least start the year with you after weeks without seeing each other. But something went wrong with their flight, and now they’d have to wait two more days to board another plane. Two days might not seem like much, but after being apart for so long, the thought of waiting two more days felt like an eternity.

“I know it’s frustrating, I really wanted to be there with you,” you could hear his sigh on the other end of the line. “I promise I’m doing everything I can to get home to you as soon as possible. These two days will fly by, I’ll make it up to you when I get there. Just a little longer, okay? I miss you so much.”

The warmth in his voice made the ache in your chest a little more bearable, but it still didn’t take away the longing you felt. “I miss you too, love, you have no idea,” you said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I wanna see you so bad, Mark.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I wanna see you too. Just hang in there for me, okay? I’ll be there before you know it.” Before he could say more, you heard faint voices in the background followed by his hum. “Baby, I… I hate to do this, but my manager’s calling me. I have to go,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled softly, imagining the little pout that was surely on his face. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay? Promise. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving the room enveloped in quiet once more, the only sound now your soft breathing. You let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was just you and the silence again.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Three firm knocks on your front door echoed through the room, loud enough to pull you from your thoughts. You glanced at the time on your phone—it wasn’t exactly the hour for unannounced visits, and you weren’t expecting anyone. Well, not anymore, anyway. Maybe it was your neighbor, they had an uncanny knack for finding reasons to complain about the tiniest sounds.

You let out a small groan and shouted, “I’m coming!” as another knock sounded, dragging yourself out of bed.

“Hi, how can I—” The words died on your lips the moment you saw who was standing at the door. Your eyes widened, and your jaw slackened as your hand remained frozen on the doorknob.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mark greeted you with that boyish smile you adored, a cute teddy bear in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. The sight of him left you speechless, your heart racing as if it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

Before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into his arms, the force of your embrace nearly causing the teddy bear and chocolates to slip from his grip. He caught you effortlessly, as if he had been waiting for this moment as much as you had. Your arms tightened around him, your face burying into his shoulder as his familiar scent washed over you, sweeping away the loneliness of the past weeks in an instant.

Mark managed to nudge the door shut behind him and guided you both further inside. Without breaking the hug, he set the teddy bear and chocolates down on a nearby surface, his hands quickly finding their way back to you. His arms wrapped around you firmly now, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face as if making sure he was real. “You’re really here?” you asked softly, your eyes scanning every inch of his familiar features.

“I’m really here,” he replied with a chuckle, leaning into your touch. He couldn’t help but find it adorable how you stared at him like he was some kind of alien. Covering your hand with his, he turned his head slightly to press a tender kiss to your palm.

“So… all that stuff about the airplane was a lie?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeky grin was all the answer you needed.

“I wanted to make a—” he started, but his explanation was cut off as your hands playfully squished his cheeks.

“Mark Lee!” you scolded, though the smile breaking across your face betrayed your mock anger.

Mark laughed softly as he tried to wiggle free from your hands, his grin never leaving his face. “Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he said, eyes sparkling with affection. “I thought it would be a good surprise, sorry.”

You let go of his cheeks, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders, then gently on his chest as you looked up at him. There was a moment of silence, the playful energy from before softening into something deeper, more intimate. You searched his eyes, your voice quieter, more sincere.

“And it was,” you whispered, your heart full as you leaned in slightly. “God, it was. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m finally here too, I missed you so much,” Mark said softly, his voice thick with emotion. It was his turn to cup your face gently between his hands, his gaze soft as he looked at you, almost as if he was memorizing the moment. Without another word, he leaned in, bringing his lips to yours in a warm, affectionate kiss that felt like home, his love for you pouring into every second.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow and tender, as if both of you were savoring the reunion, letting the warmth of each other fill the space between you. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“You’re really here,” you whispered again, as if you couldn’t quite believe it, the words tumbling out like a soft confession.

Mark chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here, baby. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of relief and joy flooding through you. You leaned in again, kissing him once more, this time deeper, pulling him even closer, as if you couldn't get enough. Mark’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his other hand sliding down to your waist, rubbing slow circles that made you melt into him.

“Mmh, I missed that too,” he murmured against your lips, his smile evident in his voice as his hands toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Mark…” you tried to sound stern, your tone a mix of warning and amusement as you attempted to pull away. But he wasn’t having it, his lips quickly chasing yours, capturing them in another kiss.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. His hands slid lower, cupping your ass with a firm squeeze that had your breath hitching, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You act like you don’t like it,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with affection.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to be truly annoyed. “I didn’t say that,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly,” he smirked, his grip on you tightening slightly. “So let me make up for all the time I’ve been away.”

Before you could say anything more, he silenced you with another kiss, gently guiding you backward toward the bedroom. You didn’t try to protest or stop him, simply letting the moment continue as your arms wrapped around his neck. As you passed through the bedroom door, Mark felt his mind drift into a state of calm. The entire space carried your scent, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. It was just another one of the countless things he missed—the feeling of being surrounded by everything that reminded him of you.

Mark gently laid you down on the bed, his lips staying connected to yours as he followed you. The comforting weight of his body against yours made everything else fade away. His kisses began to wander, trailing from your jaw to your neck, then down to your collarbone and the delicate valley between your breasts.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every move as your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it. With slow, deliberate movements, he lifted your shirt, his lips continuing their journey downward, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses along your belly. The soft sensation sent a ripple of tingles through you, drawing a quiet chuckle from your lips.

Mark glanced up at the sound, a side smile gracing his lips before he returned to his path, stopping just at the waistband of your pants. His gaze lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his eyes stealing your breath and leaving you speechless, your entire body attuned to his next move.

Mark’s hands lingered at your waistband, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, igniting a trail of warmth that made your breath catch. His gaze never wavered from yours, searching your eyes as if silently asking for permission. When you nodded, the smallest movement, he leaned up to kiss you again. Soft, tender, and unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. His hands worked deftly, slipping your pants down inch by inch, his lips following their descent with featherlight kisses that sent shivers up your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as his lips traced a path along the inside of your thighs. Every kiss, every gentle press of his hands, carried a tenderness that left no doubt about how much he’d missed you, full of care and unspoken longing.

Your heart raced as you took him in, the contrast of his soft, adoring gaze and the undeniably seductive way he moved leaving you breathless. He looked so unfairly perfect—both sweet and completely enticing—positioned between your legs, his intentions written clearly in his eyes.

“Mark…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly. You weren’t even sure if it was meant to ground yourself or encourage him further, but the smirk that tugged at his lips told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

And you didn’t need to say anything more. His mouth had already found its way to your center, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to shield you from the heat of his tongue as it teased over the delicate material. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your breath coming in a long, shaky sigh as your eyes dropped to meet his. The way he looked at you, so intent and unrelenting, only made the anticipation coil tighter in your core.

He didn’t make you wait long. His tongue moved purposefully, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves even through the fabric, a sensation so electrifying it had your fingers clutching the sheets beside you. The soft suction that followed had a breathy moan slipping from your lips, unbidden and raw.

“Mark…” you whispered his name again, your voice a mix of need and surrender, your hips subtly arching toward him, silently begging for more.

His only answer was a soft hum that sent a gentle vibration through you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. His teeth gently tugged at your panties, pulling them down slowly, all while his gaze remained locked on yours.

Needless to say, you were already dripping, and that sight made his heart swell with pride. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, the view of you laid out before him always felt as thrilling as the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in every detail before he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your clit.

The gentle press of his lips against your sensitive spot sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His tongue darted out, circling around the delicate bundle of nerves with a teasing precision that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back against the pillow.

He watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, before sliding his tongue down, parting your slick folds and licking through your slit. His movements were slow, deliberate, savoring every taste as he explored you.

Another moan left your lips as he continued, the warmth of his mouth combined with the skillful flicks of his tongue driving you crazy. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked, his own excitement growing with every shudder and whimper he drew from you.

His tongue continued its journey, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, focused flicks over your clit, building you up slowly, savoring every moment of your pleasure.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently pulling as your hips moved instinctively against his mouth. The sensation of his tongue, combined with the heat pooling in your core, was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer with each stroke.

Mark glanced up, catching the blissed-out expression on your face, and it only spurred him on. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up slowly from your entrance to your clit, then wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking gently. The change in pressure had you gasping, your thighs trembling around his head.

“You taste so good," he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands now gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you as he continued to work his magic, bringing you closer and closer to the release you craved.

Your breaths came quicker, each exhale accompanied by a moan. "Mark... I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice strained with need.

He didn't let up, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you. One of his hands slipped down, his thumb finding your clit to rub in tandem with his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Your body tensed, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you came undone beneath him. A cry of his name escaped your lips, your back arching as he continued to lap at you, helping you ride out the high.

As the tremors subsided, he pulled back slightly, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes filled with satisfaction and adoration. He crawled up to meet your gaze, brushing a stray hair from your face and leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging at the fabric. Mark's breath hitched slightly, the desire in his eyes deepening as he pulled back just enough to shed his shirt, revealing his bare chest. You ran your hands over his skin, savoring the warmth beneath your fingertips as he leaned down, capturing your lips again.

He shifted, pressing himself against you, and you could feel the hard outline of his arousal through his pants. Your hand moved between you, palming him gently, eliciting a soft groan from his lips, your touch becoming more intended as you began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips.

He kicked them off, his body pressing back into yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Mark positioned himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pushed into you, the both of you releasing a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“You feel so good," he whispered, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. Mark's movements remained gentle, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to memorize every sensation, every reaction from you. The room was filled with soft sighs and the quiet rustle of sheets as you clung to him.

His pace quickened slightly, the friction building a delicious tension between you both. You arched into him, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered, "I'm close again.” The sensitivity from your previous climax heightened every sensation, making your body tremble beneath him.

Mark's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locking with yours as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting the perfect spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Let go for me, love" he coaxed, his voice soothing, full of love.

With his encouragement, you felt the wave of pleasure cresting again, your body tensing as you cried out his name. The intensity of your release pulled him closer to the edge, and with a few more thrusts, he followed. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly, the warmth of his release spreading between you as he shuddered, his breath ragged.

Mark collapsed gently beside you, his breathing ragged as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and the soft rise and fall of his chest helped calm your racing heart.

For a while, you both stayed like that, in silence, just holding each other, the only sound in the room was the soft rhythm of your breaths, gradually returning to normal. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, and neither of you felt the need to break the tranquility of the moment.

Mark kissed the top of your head and was about to speak when a loud thud echoed from the wall of the bedroom. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern and you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

"I guess we made the neighbor mad again."

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[anakindoodles]

Anakin vs. Obi-Wan and moments before sudden doom

Please click for better quality!!

[akicine]

Hi hello I hope you're well I hope your requests are open if not please ignore this but can I ask blade with a lover from when he was yingxing who he lost a long time ago and they reunite and the spark is still there just some cute fluff and abit of angst

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I SWEAR TO GOD MY WIFI IS SO SHITTY , EVERYTIME I REFRESHED , IT DIDNT SAVEEE SO I HAD TO RESTART 4 TIMES.

The same , yet different (Blade x Reader)

You thought you’d never see him again.

After all these years , you’d never tried to dream that he would come back.

And yet, here he is , right in front of your eyes , looking at you with a cold stare , and talking to you with curt responses.

When you had first gotten a note , claiming that you could meet your lover once again , you thought it was just a scam , seeing that you haven’t met him in centuries and have long given up on the hope of seeing him again.

However that one small part of you , clung on to the hope that you would meet him again.

So when you arrived at the destination given , you thought you were hallucinating, seeing the stellaron hunter Kafka , and …

And-

Yingxing.

But then you realized , he wasn’t Yingxing.

He was blade.

Just like how you were questioning his existence and how he’s here , he was questioning his feelings about you.

He doesn’t know why , but whenever he thinks of you , he feels a soft pang in his heart , almost as if he was mourning the loss of something , but forgot what it was.

You know that face , you’ve seen it for the past couple of centuries , yet he was different from what he used to be.

Snow White hair , now a dark indigo , with ends as red as wine.

Those eyes that used to hold the pride and life of a blacksmith, now dead and holds the regrets and pain of centuries.

Even then , he’s still Yingxing to you.

Your lover , who had stayed with you for years , even when he was a short life species , you had loved him , cared for him when he got injured, and laughed with him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally realized that he had come back to you .

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much , he doesn’t care to remember people from his past life , but whenever it comes to you , he feels the urge to gently wipe away your tears , as if it’s some familiar thing he always did , and comfort you.

With great ‘reluctance’ he gently pulls you into his arms and rubs your lower back , getting into a comforting rhythm as he tries to comfort you.

He presses his chapped lips together , trying to figure out a way to make you feel better , but then he hears a sound of pure joy and looks down to see you smile .

He hasn’t seen anything better than it.

He gently cups your face , something he hasn’t done in centuries , and tilts it up a bit more before smiling.

He hasn’t done that in centuries.

You gently grasp his hand , one that’s so familiar to you , and squeeze it , relishing the fact that he’s truly here with you.

He takes the time to slowly reacquaint himself with your features , memorizing your features , wishing that the Mara wouldn’t wipe his memory away.

He hasn’t felt the call of Mara once in this time span

He gently kisses your forehead .

He may not be Yingxing , but he’ll still love you like him.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

So I just read your fic, My Angel, and first off beautiful work, I loved it. Second, if you are taking requests and you want an angsty one, what about the same content but Finnick hates or at least doesn't like the reader because she killed Annie in her games and so reader takes on more clients because they feel guilty about it all. I don't know if that's a good idea or not but it's been in my head for a while.🌻

oh my gosh this is actually so interesting. (also thank you so much!!! im so happy you loved it!!!)

i wish i hated you.

content warnings: trafficking of victors, implied S/A, mentions of death, self hatred, angst

The air was thick with the scent of perfume and expensive wine, and the room buzzed with the Capitol’s elite, all eager to mingle with the Victors like they were rare jewels to be paraded around.

Finnick hated it. He always has.

He was leaning against a wall, glass of champagne in hand as he scanned the room.

Then his eyes landed on you.

You. The person he wished he hated.

He watched as you worked the room. You laughed at every joke, you batted your eyelashes, you smiled at the perfect times—a smile that was practiced and polite, you brushed hands with the people around you at percise moments.

Everyone in the Capitol loved you, they were all hooked on you since you won your games two years ago. The beautiful tribute that came from District 7, the one who won against all odds.

Finnick kept watching you. The pain of two years ago rushing back to him as he did.

He was in the Capitol at the time, at a viewing party. His eyes were fixated on the screen as the dam broke, water flooded the arena, and a spark of hope went through Finnick when he saw the cameras zoom in on Annie who was swimming.

"She's gonna win it all. That girl." he heard one of the party goers say.

He thought so too. That was til someone shouted, "Look there! In the water!"

That's when he saw you. You weren't much of a fighter, only having 3 kills, but still, you were lethal, especially with your axe.

He watched as you swam, something that shocked him because not many tributes outisde of four knew how to swim. He watched as you made your way towards a tree to get the higher ground. And once you had it. That was that.

He felt his heart break when he heard Annie cry out, but he couldn't show it, not in front of everyone.

That pain stayed in his heart whenever he saw you.

He wanted there to be more to hate about you. He wanted you to be cruel, shallow, or selfish—anything to justify the hatred he felt every time he looked at you. Anything to make it easier to stomach the fact that you had killed Annie.

But you weren’t any of those things. You were poised, charming, and maddeningly perfect at playing the Capitol’s game.

And on the rare occasions that you were forced to speak to eachother, you were always polite, always kind, always with a smile. You never said anything bad. And even if you were faking it, you were good at it.

And he just hated how good you were at it, how easily you commanded the room with a laugh or a perfectly timed smile. He hated how everyone loved you. How easily you fit into their world.

He knew that it was something all Victors had to do. To survive outside of the games. Especially those that Snow deemed desireble. He had to do the same, but recently things were more calm. he wondered why, but didn't dare question it out loud.

He kept his eyes on you, his hand tightening around his champagne glass as he watched one of Snow’s aides lean in close, whispering something in your ear. He saw the way your smile faltered for a split second before you forced it back into place, masking it with a laugh.

You slipped away from the group a moment later, heading toward the quieter halls of the mansion. Finnick didn’t think—he just moved, following you like a shadow.

When he found you, you were leaning against a wall at the end of the corridor, your head in your hands and your breathing uneven.

“Taking a breather from all your adoring fans?” Finnick asked, his voice laced with bitterness.

You flinched, straightening immediately at the sound of his voice. “Finnick,” you said, turning to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he echoed, a humorless laugh escaping him. “I could ask you the same thing. You looked like you were having the time of your life back there.”

You frowned. “I was doing what I had to do.”

“What you had to do?” he repeated mockingly. “Please. You were eating it up, just like you always do. I bet you love all this—all the attention, all the praise.”

Your expression darkened, and Finnick felt a flicker of satisfaction at having struck a nerve. “You don’t know anything about what I feel,” you said coldly.

“Oh, don’t I?” he shot back, stepping closer. “You’ve been parading yourself around the Capitol since the day you won your Games. You’re their perfect little doll, aren’t you? Always smiling, always charming. You make it so easy for them to love you.”

“Stop it,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Why should I?” Finnick pressed, his voice rising. “You don’t even care, do you? About what they take from us, about what they make us do—”

“I care!” you shouted, cutting him off. “You have no idea how much I care, Finnick! You don’t know anything!”

There was silence for a moment as he watched tears fall down your face.

“Do you think I want this?” you whispered, your voice raw and broken. “Do you think I enjoy it?" you add on as you turn away from him to collect yourself.

There was quiet again, Finnick was about to press further when you turned to face him.

"I don't. I don't enjoy any of it. But you know why I do it? Because I owe it to you. Because I owe it to her. To Annie."

“I killed her,” you continued, tears streaming down your face. “I killed the one person you loved, and now I’m paying for it."

Finnick froze, his anger faltering. “What are you talking about?”

You held back your words for a moment, but then started speaking again, "After my Games, I begged Snow. I begged him to let me protect you.”

“What?” Finnick said, his voice barely audible.

“I told him I’d do whatever he wanted to me,” you continued, your voice breaking. “As long as he left you alone.”

The words hit Finnick like a punch to the gut. Suddenly, the fact that things were calmer for him made so much sense.

"So now, every client, every touch, every moment I spend with them—it’s my punishment, it's my punishment for what I took from you."

“Y/N...” he began, his voice softer now as he approached you.

You shook your head, stepping back. “Don’t,” you said. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I don’t deserve it. Not from you.”

Finnick stared at you, his heart breaking as he realized the depth of your self-loathing. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms.

You resisted at first, your fists weakly pushing against his chest. But eventually, you crumpled, sobbing into his shirt.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” you choked out. "I never wanted you to find out."

Finnick’s throat tightened as he held you, his hand gently stroking your hair, but he couldn't find himself to say anything.

And as you broke down in his arms, Finnick held you tighter, wishing that he hadn't spent all this time wishing that he hated you.

A/N: oh this one had a KICK 💔

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

real talk having the 2nd worst new years eve yet 🤢🤢🤢 (throat infection, twisted neck, banged-about-foot, ego AND the rest o' me all bruised like misjuggled peaches 🍑🍑🍑)

im bent outa shape and suspectin the universe owes me 8 buck if anyone wannsa chip in

[cacaocheri]

this was supposed to be one drawing!! ONE DRAWING!!!!!!!!! but every time i draw them i can't stop i need to keep going

[sh1-n0bu]

i fucking knew americans were dumb

edit: i have found out thru tiktok that books such as ‘great gatsby’ ‘handmaidens tale’ ‘to kill a mockingbird’ ‘lord of the flies’ and such are going to be banned in the us and the white house is demanding a recount/revote. those of you who are in usa, do what you can do, stock up on your medications if you can, engage in community that you’re a part of, create a safe space for yourself and those you know. learn about legal issues and ways to protect yourself if the project 2025 does end up happening, educate yourselves on legal rights and your human basic rights and which law protects it in which way. this may have disappeared in the tags but if you support trump or have voted for that thing get THE FUCK off of my blog

second edit: those of you who gave your votes thru an email or online voting, CHECK YOUR EMAIL AND MAKE SURE YOUR EMAIL IS TRACEABLE. there has been news of emails being unable to be found, identified or traced back to yourself. check and check again. if there are any issues, file a complaint

[keylimeart]

your decorating habits are unsafe at best, Kate Bishop

[arcanegifs]

[kulliare]

tagged by @shrips for 9 books you'd like to read in the new year! ty for the tag-- i tag @halfagod @albatrossisland @eponine119 @tru-lyly

[potatobugz]

i feel as if im going mad so im going to just put this out here. real quick. movieunleashers starters ramble.

i cant stop thinking about how mudkip broke down in that one scene in "Typomaniac," when Chespin called him mean. for a second he lets his mask slip a little bit and to me he just... acts his age. he starts crying and calls chespin mean back. maybe im just hyperfocusing on this one detail but mudkip is about 12 years old.

and that just makes me wonder what happened in this guys life that brought him to where he is now. and it makes it all the more tragic how his whole world revolves around chespin, but he is the one bringing him the most pain. and how young he was when he died.

there is a large theme of growing up in "Rare Candy." the characters ages are emphasized in that particular episode, and one of the main conflicts is fennekin wanting to evolve faster.

the thing about characters in these stories is that they're not allowed to just be kids, to have a childhood. so many bad things happen to them. like. mudkips whole, Everything. fennekin when she was famous in typomaniac, or dealing with her own insecurities/pressure from society about her relationship w chespin. and chespin always having to shoulder his friends problems & always somehow managing to stay positive despite everything.

why cant they just. play video games. eat ice cream or something. go to the movies

at the end of the day, i think both mudkip and fennekin are characters who grew up too fast. by distancing himself from them, chespin refused to follow in their footsteps and just wanted to stay a kid.

good for him.

[biohazard-inevitable]

Hair

They say that hair holds stories, that the style is what makes a man.

They say long locks make you a pansy and a real man should have it short lest they be mistaken for a girl.

Where I grew up, every man buzzed their hair down.

It was a shame for it to be long and shaggy, and mothers would fuss over you, insisting upon a haircut.

For girls, it was fine.

They could have hair as long as they wanted or as short as they needed, so long as it wasnt buzzed as short as a man’s.

Being anything else just wasn’t a thing round these parts where churches chimed every sunday, pastors clammoring around resturants and filling their quotas in a single lunch.

So I buzzed mine.

I tried as hard as I could to seem as manly as possible

To appear as bull of a brute as any cowboy should.

I wore all the boy things and had all the short boy hair.

My scalp was sensitive anyways, so I thought it didn’t bother me.

It was better shorter.

Wasnt it?

I still gazed and clammored about the anime boys I saw on screen or in Otome games though.

I gushed about how pretty they were with hair down their backs like a silken curtain, or whipping wild through the air like the mane of a lion.

Legolas was never deemed as not manly enough

Beither was Zen or inuyasha or the undertaker.

A crush, I supposed.

Because of course thats all it was.

I was a gay little boy with gay little crushes and my type was men with long, Beautiful hair.

Right?

My hair was a dull, discolored brown from the shimmering blonde it used to be, the blonde I remember from kindergarten.

I tried to return to that blonde with bleach.

My school didnt allow unnatural colors, so anything was better than that matted, oily brown.

Shaved short and as platinum as a ken doll, I should have been as man as ever.

4 years, I stayed like that, and while the short hair was easy to take care of, I felt as hideous as a pile of sludge.

It didnt matter if I was loved for my looks, I supposed.

Wouldn’t that be too vain of me?

Boys weren’t supposed to care about what they looked like, they werent supposed to coo and admire Beautiful hair or seethe in jealousy that their sister looked so much better and has such long, goregous hair.

It wasn’t until after high school that I began to explore.

Covid let me grow my hair out more, though I still trimmed the sides.

I let my bangs grow long and shaggy over my face, like a veil to hide me from the world.

Eventually I dyed it again, this time going with that green I had always wanted to try, the one I had seen on my favorite youtuber growing up, fluffy and emerald.

Still, for years more, I kept it short. Only allowing that fringe to hover over me as some sort of style.

Recently though, I’ve realized I want that hair that those anime men had.

I want that soft curtain rolling down my back like waves of an ebony river, flecks of mossy green dotting it like a miasma of toxin flowing through the oily black stream.

I want the hair like the ring girl

The people around me are foolish and prudent to think the length of ones hair makes you more or less of a man.

I know that now, and I’m glad I do.

I want to stop pretending not to like things

[aggressiveguitarnoises]

how to celebrate ur birthday or other holidays alone as a choice without making everyone concerned and offended

[b4kuch1n]

frog documentation. frogcumentation

I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child

took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this

zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like

happy extremely late birthday to this thing also

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING