#sorry for not posting for a hot minute

[cozylittleartblog]

@staff if you [change] the [design] of the fucking [dashboard] i will kill you

edit. i want it on the actual post that i am not actually making a de-th threat against the staff. that's shitty. the caption quotes the fucking costco hot dog meme, which i originally said in the tags. if any staff member sees this please do Not take it personally

[rusticfurnace]

the 42C heat is making me want to skin myself alive but atleast soap is enjoying himself

[xxplastic-cubexx]

apocalypse doodlings aka We Couldve Had Grey Hair Erik And Charles Is There Too I Guess

[narudoodles]

uni seniors sns 🍥🍜🍻📚✍️

[merthurweek2024]

MERTHUR WEEK 2024

☀️STARTING December 18th - 24th🌑

merthurweek 2024 has risen😈 and as always, i can't wait to see what brilliant creations everyone makes!! i love you all. thank you for allowing me to do this each year!! it’s officially just me this year in name🩷

have fun and enjoy!!💥

FOR FANFIC OR META WRITERS - prompts and/or themes for inspiration:

day one: quest(s) + angst

day two: court sorcerer!merlin + protective!others

day three: hate at first sight + hurt/comfort

day four: “what is that?!” + humor

day five: bamf!merlin + angst with a happy ending

day six: "it wasn’t meant to end this way" + dragons

day seven: magic reveal + canon era

there is an ao3 collection under the name which can be found here 'merthurweek2024’

if you wish to add your fics please put the day and prompt in your summary if posting to ao3.

reminder: merlin/arthur do not need to be the one to say the line or be the things exactly! and the + means and/or. these are mostly for inspiration alone. if you would like to just write modern royalty for day one, for example, and not use angst, then that's perfectly fine.

FOR GIFS/ VIDEO/ ART CREATORS - ideas and/or themes for inspiration:

day one: friends of/with merthur + red color palette (#740938 / #AF1740 / #CC2B52 / #DE7C7D)

day two: any song + orange color palette (#FF885B / #FFE5CF / #557C56 / #33372C) 

day three: symbolism + yellow color palette (#FEFFD2 / #FFEEA9 / #FFBF78 / #FF7D29)

day four: favorite parallel(s) + green color palette (#1A1A19 / #31511E / #859F3D / #F6FCDF) 

day five: why do you still love merlin in 2024? + blue color palette (#DFF2EB / #B9E5E8 / #7AB2D3 / #4A628A)

day six: any quote + purple color palette (#1A1A1D / #3B1C32 / #6A1E55 / #A64D79)

day seven: what went wrong? + white color palette (#F9F5F6 / #F8E8EE / #FDCEDF / #F2BED1) 

Rules:

must be posted on tumblr so i can reblog!

please tag your posts as #merthurweek2024 and/or tag this account directly.

NSFW is allowed, just please tag appropriately.

have fun and enjoy yourself! this week is all about supporting each other and sharing your work!

questions, concerns, or just wanna talk? you can dm or send asks at this account or my main @bellamyblakru

[owlcracker]

thought of him

[artisticxlly]

Battle of duos 💫

[arawsuu]

Save me Astarion..

Astarion save me.,.,

Astarion...

[housederiva]

Is it just me or is there way less fanart being made for this game than the previous ones? Kind of makes me sad, I remember with dai I could check the tags every few hours and find something new weeks after launch, now I only can get away with only looking a few times and week and miss nothing.

I don't think that's Veilguard exclusive.

Things I and my mutuals draw now are getting less notes/reblogs than they did even one year ago, regardless of the fandom. Fanfiction is getting less comments and kudos on ao3 too (not that they were getting many comments in the first place) Less gifs are being made because gif makers weren't getting reblogs. Hell, most of the post I make have a huge discrepancy between likes and reblogs and add polls into that? A thousand people voted on something and only a dozen people reblog it. It's a hollowing feeling when you realise you're calling out to an empty void, I don't blame people for creating less art because of that.

I don't see a vast majority of the people who follow me in my notes because I have likes disabled. Multiple times someone has sent me an ask apologizing for spamming me with likes and I don't understand it? That is not a bad thing And unless you reblogged anything along the way, I didn't even realise you were doing it in the first place. And the people whose notes I do see are not annoying in the slightest, I love the tags you add and I'm sure the original poster does even more so

I'm not trying to shame anyone Into interacting with the fandom spaces they're in but the whole point of Tumblr and what makes it a blogging platform and not social media is that this is a show and tell website. You're supposed to look at something you think is cool and then wave it around for your followers to see and then they pick it up and do the same regardless of how old it is

When you reblog an ask game from someone it used to be common courtesy to send that person one of the asks from it. Folks used to leave comments analysing paragraphs from stories people wrote and theorising about what would happen next on every chapter. We used to send each other asks just asking about our ocs unprompted

If there's no interaction or community when you create something, then what's the point of creating it? It sucks that fandom is morphing into something to be consumed and thrown away the second it's more than a week old unless you're one of a handful of blogs that got lucky and picked up traction at just the right moment

I'm sorry for the rant but I get emotional when I think about the decay of fandom spaces for too long. And this goes without saying, but you guys can reblog anything on my dash if the button isn't disabled on it

[rabidbatboy]

🧼 — THE FIRST RULE OF MOGAI CLUB IS:

ALIENGIRL: a gender for when one is a girl and an alien; a girl who enjoys, is connected to, and/or relates to aliens in any way

ALIENBOY: a gender for when one is a boy and an alien; a boy who enjoys, is connected to, and/or relates to aliens in any way

TAGGING: @radiomogai @io-archival

YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT MOGAI CLUB — 🫧

[kasterarts]

Moving Forward. (Spoilers for YTTD up through 3-1b)

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

[red-cicada]

just realized I never posted this? they kinda look like ass but whatever, old man dan or something, he wears glasses cause he cant read for shit.

[teastarfall]

strange little guys… mayhaps a gang of little nightmares… perchance…

[predoom]

welcome back maurauder hoodie (🤞) 💘

[flwrkid14]

What If Tim Drake Was Never Rescued? The Making of Joker Junior

Tim Drake never became Robin. He was just a smart kid, a quiet shadow with a camera, trailing the Bat and the rogues of Gotham, digging into the mysteries of the city’s underworld with a tenacity that should have earned him a place beside the heroes he admired. But then, one night, he dug a little too deep, got too close. Joker noticed him watching, eyes bright with curiosity, and that was it—Tim vanished off Gotham’s streets, just another lost kid in a city that moved on.

Except Tim wasn’t really gone; he was Joker’s new project.

The Joker didn’t just lock him up. He broke him down, with every taunt and twisted trick. Tim’s mind, once sharp and resilient, became the Joker’s playground, his personal canvas. Joker saw the spark, the intelligence, the raw potential in him—and Joker loved breaking things with potential. Each day, he wove his madness deeper into Tim’s mind, twisting and warping his reality. Tim tried to hold on, to remember who he was, what he cared about, but every moment was a fight, and Joker didn’t play fair.

Days bled into months, maybe years. Gotham moved on. The city forgot about the missing kid who’d once admired heroes. But Tim? He stopped thinking of rescue, stopped imagining life outside of Joker’s twisted games. His laughter, once warm and genuine, turned sharp and hollow. Joker’s cruelty became his comfort. Eventually, the line blurred until there was no Tim Drake left—only Joker Junior.

It was Joker who gave him his new name, laughing as he handed him the purple suit. “You’re a real chip off the old block now,” he’d sneered. Joker Junior didn’t protest. He just put the suit on.

The transformation was complete. He’d become Joker’s perfect apprentice, a wild-eyed agent of chaos, dancing through Gotham’s streets with a smile too wide, eyes too dark, and laughter that sent shivers down people’s spines. The innocence he once had was gone, replaced with Joker’s venom, embedded so deep it felt like his own.

One night, Batman finally tracked him down. He’d been following the mysterious “Joker Junior” across the city, tracking the strange sense of familiarity in the kid’s movements, the way he seemed to know Gotham’s streets like the back of his hand. They clashed on a rooftop, Joker Junior dodging and weaving, just like… just like Robin. Bruce caught a glimpse beneath the mask, a flash of familiar features, and his world seemed to tilt.

“Tim?” Bruce choked, his voice breaking. For a second, Joker Junior stilled, his eyes meeting Bruce’s.

But then that dark grin returned, the twisted mask of the Joker’s protégé. “Tim’s gone,” he said, his voice too casual, too familiar, too empty. “Joker taught me better.”

And as Bruce reached out, trying to connect with whatever was left of the kid he’d never saved, Joker Junior slipped into the night, his laughter echoing behind him.