#u guys are 2 nice 2 me
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// pentiment spoilers (implied ig but still there)
more of these because i was inspired
#i hope you guys see my vision on some of these#the claus and andreas one could also work the other way around i feel#also unrelated but why is there like no father thomas content out there sorry#will be talking abt big spoilers here btw#but like i loved him in my first playthrough idk if i was dumb but i thought he was nice and neeever suspected him#even now i can still appreciate him although i do not âlikeâ him for obvious reasons but i enjoy spinning him around in my head#anyway idk ig i was expecting to see more stuff abt him online like posts or fanart or whatever but thereâs like nothing !?#to the like 2 people whoâve made fanart of him and/or a discussion post about him pls know u are everything to me#anyway sorry idk when tags became father thomas discussion time but i have a lot to say abt him tbh#pentiment#pentiment spoilers#andreas maler#father gernot#father thomas#brother mathieu#brother rudeger#ok too lazy to tag them all sorry guys#can write about father thomas for 6 long tags but canât tag like 7 characters
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the body of christ â matty healy
brash and rogue, you don't know what to do with how you feel about the new priest in town. so, you find yourself in the confessional booth... aka priest!au
minors dni. dom/sub undertones, oral fixation, oral sex, unprotected sex, the man hasn't kissed anyone in a decade let him live!! wc: 3.2k
The church is dark when you approach the confessional booth, the heels of your boots ringing out and echoing throughout the cavernous room. You wonder if he hears you. A single lamp is turned on next to the booth, yellow beams dancing across the shifting fabric. You can hear Matty shuffling around inside, the shiny tips of his shoes barely visible beneath the black hanging.
Itâs been a week since he kissed you, all teeth and tongue on the bench outside of his apartment, an insistent hand burning a path around your waist.
âIâve come to confess, Father.â You smirk to yourself, crossing your ankles and shifting on the wooden seat to sit on your hands. Thereâs something girlish about the way youâre sitting, and you remember when your parents used to make you frequent this very booth several years ago. Then your confessions were about swiping your best friendâs eyeshadow palette, worried hands picking at your bright blue nail polish as you pleaded for forgiveness from an elderly priest. Now, the darkness of the booth no longer scares you.
âIâve been having all of these thoughts⊠fantasies, if you will.â You strain your ears to your left, hoping to hear a gasp, a reaction from Matty. âI think about him all the time, and I donât know what to do because he just wonât let himself.â A low ache settles itself between your legs, and you know that he can hear your legs cross and uncross themselves as you try to relieve yourself. As you smooth your black skirt down your thighs, you finally hear a shaky breath through the tiny window.
âI wanted him right there on a bench a few nights ago but he stopped himself after kissing me.â Your mind flashes back to the witty back and forths of that night, dangerously toeing the line of inappropriate.
âIt was dark and quiet and the only thing I could hear was his heart pounding against mine.â Your cunt throbs, filled with the image of you climbing on top of him on the bench. âI tried to get off when I got home, but nothing worked.â A beat.
âWhat did you do?â He breathes out. In disbelief, you manage to say through the haze, âI touched myself. I touchedâ I was so desperate for anything. â The wood of the confessional booth creaks as you continue.
âI couldnât stop thinking of him bending me over, the way his fingers looked wrapped around the bottle that night.â A thunk emanates from beside you, a groan resonating throughout the booth as you squirm. âI wanted his head between my thighs, I wanted to get down on my knees in front of that bench as he fucking ran his mouth.â
âHave you-â Matty starts, hesitating. You interject before he can continue.Â
âIâve never had anyone before.â You run your tongue over your bottom lip. âBut I want him.â
âStop.â
âWhat? Father-â
âKneel.â You wait until he repeats himself, sliding off the bench and settling yourself on the floor. âKneel.â Hands clasped, you close your eyes, waiting for his next directive. In the few moments of silence, your mind wanders before you ground yourself, feeling the grain of the wood through the knees of your tights.
Suddenly, the curtain is ripped open, velvet whipping inches away from your face. You blink through the spots in your eyes to adjust to the light filtering through the stained glass. Dust motes float in a haze around Mattyâs head, and you swear you see a halo for a moment. Lips barely parted, his chin is tilted up, considering you as he looks down his nose.
His eyes bore through you, brown irises giving way to widening black pupils. You rise on your knees, breathing shallowly and staring up at him, waiting for him to cut through the thick soup of tension between you two. Mattyâs hand rises and his eyes flick to it, as if he canât believe heâs reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face.
The heat of his palm reaches you first, and you instinctively stretch to reach his hand, brushing your reddened cheek to his cool fingers. Mattyâs fingers twitch away, only to return to your bottom lip, thumb collecting your sticky red lipgloss. He pushes in further and you take the chance to suck on his finger, gently tonguing at the intrusion. The rest of his fingers come to rest on your jaw, curling around the back of your neck.
He drops to the floor of the confessional and mirrors you on your knees, eyes scanning over your flushed face. Matty slowly pulls his thumb out of your now open mouth, where it joins the rest of his fingers on the side of your face, the glistening digit smearing spit over your cheekbone.
You donât know who leans in first, but suddenly his lips are on your lips, and youâre gasping wetly as his hand travels down to rest on your hip, pressing you into him. He kisses and kisses and kisses you, a decade of desire being unleashed in the span of a few seconds. You grip onto Mattyâs black shirt, running one hand through the gel that holds his curls in place. Delight blooms in your mind, and you grin as you kiss him. A sharp tug has Matty moaning into your mouth, tongue running over your bottom lip before you let him in.
You let out a giggle, realizing youâre the first person heâs kissed in ten years if you donât count all the hands he kisses in blessing. Matty pulls back, a questioning look on his face, and you take in the string of spit that stretches between your mouths, the rise and fall of his chest, the shadow of the veins on his forearms. Now that you have him, you want to devour him.
He asks first, though. Mattyâs hands slide down the back of your skirt, toying with the hem and tracing circles on your sheer black tights.
âLet me taste you,â he tips your head up, pressing a firm kiss to your lips as your head spins. You nod emphatically as you pull away, getting to your feet to sit back on the bench of the confessional. Matty rises too, and you look up at him as he undoes the top button of his black shirt, yanking his white collar out of the lapel and discarding it behind him. It hits the wood of a faraway pew, echoing through the silence.Â
All you hear is the blood in your ears as Matty gets back on the floor and hooks one hand underneath each knee to drag you to the edge of the bench. You feel your cunt throb with anticipation. He flips your skirt up, sucking in a breath at the visible lace of your underwear. Mattyâs hands slide beneath the waistband of your skirt, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps as he fumbles for the elastic of your tights. He hasnât looked up at you in a minute, transfixed by how the pale skin of his hands looks against the black of your tights.
You lift your hips to help Matty pull your tights off, his hands running reverently down you. They stop at your knees, grasping the meat of your thighs, digging in and pushing your legs apart to bare the damp red lace of your underwear.
âDid you wear this just for me?â Matty rasps out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. You whimper your confession, hands falling behind you as you struggle to keep yourself upright, his kisses nearing the lace covering you. He licks at the fabric, contributing to the growing dark spot on the fabric between your legs. Your hips jump, and he presses down with a hand on your hip, silently telling you to stay in place.
âFuck, youâre so pretty. All wet for me.â His breath ghosts over you as he hooks his fingers on your underwear, slowly tugging down. âIs this what you looked like after I kissed you the other night?â
âYes,â you manage to gasp out before he pulls them off, balling them up and stuffing them in his pocket. Matty finds your clit with an assured finger, rubbing circles. He bites down into the flesh of your left thigh, tongue soon following to soothe over the spot. Through the daze of the headrush, you see purple blooming as he traces his tongue toward where his finger is focused.
He attaches his lips to your clit, sucking and lapping at it with the same fervor as he had kissed you earlier. Matty eats you like a man starved, like itâs water in a desert, like youâre the sweetest fruit and all he wants is to consume you.
âMatty-â you moan. He slips his tongue into you, nose bumping your clit as he traces your walls. You grind into his face as he brings one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling you closer to him.Â
âSo sweet making those sounds for me, love,â he says, withdrawing from your cunt to grin devilishly up at you. Mattyâs hair is unruly and all over the place, chin glistening with you. He looks like heâs found heaven on his knees, and he brings a hand up to swipe your juices off his face. With a smirk, he brings the hand up to your lips, pushing two fingers in. You take them down to the knuckle, laving around them, and you see Matty reach for the front of his trousers, palming himself.
âSuch a good girl for me,â Matty groans, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. âGoing to make you come so hard you forget your name, your prayersâ He reattaches his lips to your clit and brings his soaked fingers to your fluttering hole, slowly thrusting one in.Â
The fire in your lower belly is rapidly building, the waves of pleasure reaching new heights as he carefully stretches you around another finger. âMatty, shit, fuck,â you whine, rolling your hips. He diligently laps at you, and the euphoria hits you, trembling on the bench. You feel yourself spasming around Mattyâs tongue as he continues to lick you through the ecstasy, legs splayed out for him.Â
Eventually, you push him away, bringing your thighs together and grinning dopily down to him. Matty is disheveled, his face covered in your juices. The hard line of his pants practically reaches out to you. I did that to him, you think, sticky and sweaty on the bench. Matty comes up to kiss you on the lips, peppering your face with soft devotion as he tugs your skirt down over the evidence of his worship.
The two of you sit together in silence for several minutes, the rise and fall of your chests perfectly synchronized.
âGood first?â Matty mumbles into your hair, playing and twisting your locks. You twist to look at him, an incredulous look on your face.
âYouâre one to talk!â Your mouth drops open, laughing at the incredulity of his question. âYou havenât had sex in ten years.â Mattyâs face drops momentarily before he runs his hand sheepishly through his hair.
âYouâd probably never believe it, but back in the day I used to be quite a catch.â He wiggles his eyebrows. âThatâs why they sent me to seminary. The girls couldnât get enough of me.â You hide your face in his neck so he doesnât see your reaction, eyes crinkling and mouth widening at the thought of a Matty your age being the talk of the town parties.Â
Shaking your head, you stand up and push through the curtain, waiting for him to follow you. He emerges from the darkness of the booth like an angel, pushing back the sleeves of his shirt where theyâve started to fall down his forearms.
Matty presses a chaste kiss to your nose as his arms bracket you against the confessional. You tilt your head up to capture his lips, pulling him closer as he trails kisses down your neck. You let him for a moment before you slip out around him, spinning on your heel and smoothing your skirt down. Matty looks dangerous now, not understanding why youâre pulling him away from the booth â his eyes tell you he would take you right over a pew if you let him.
âThe rectory,â you say, taking his hand in yours. Matty walks with purpose, his strides long, and you struggle to keep up with him.
âCan my poor girl walk after what I just gave her?â You roll your eyes at the endearment, focusing on putting one leg in front of the other. One wobble and you would answer his question, which you arenât allowing tonight.
A few minutes later you lie on his soft white sheets, legs parted as you lazily slip your fingers through your folds. Matty stands at the corner of the bed as he pulls his dress shirt out of its tuck, nimble hands unbuttoning and sliding the garment from his shoulders.Â
âDidnât know priests could be so fit,â you giggle. âIs there a priest gym?â Matty throws his head back in a laugh.
âThe dress code is cassocks, and itâs just rows and rows of priests on weight machines.â He jokes. âItâs practice for lifting babies out of water.â You pull a serious face, nodding solemnly.Â
âI hope Iâm not intruding on your priest gym time tonight.â Instead of riffing off you, Matty decides to lift you up, spinning to land you on his lap. The rough fabric of his pants zaps the nerves in your clit, and you unwittingly grind down, making contact with his length. The air in the room is charged once again, ions waiting to be aligned to carry the spark between you both.
In one move, Matty kisses you square on the mouth and rolls you over. He towers over you, eyes zeroing in on your dripping cunt. You grasp for his belt buckle, yanking it out of the loops and throwing it into a far corner. His hands replace your own as he tugs his pants down first, revealing his tight black boxers.
Your mouth waters at the sight, but your reaching hands are gently stopped as Matty breathes a question. âCondom?â He raises an eyebrow, and you frantically shake your head no. âOn the pill,â you briefly explain. Mattyâs eyes darken as he slides his boxers down. His cock slaps against his stomach, red and weeping.
He circles his hand around it, stroking and tugging. âYou look like a wet dream,â Matty says reverently, sliding down the bed to position himself over you.
Your hand joins him on his cock, and together you guide him to your soaked entrance. He swipes through the mess, coating himself in your cum. Torturously slowly, he finally presses into you.
âSo tight love, you feel so good.â You grasp at his forearms, fixating on the curl dangling from his forehead. Mattyâs abs flex under your fingers as he slowly pushes into your cunt, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His pants throw a hot spear of need through you, and he stills as he bottoms out. Heâs bigger than anything you couldâve imagined. Matty stills between your legs, the two of you suspended in a tableau of sacrilege.Â
âMove, please,â you whisper, hugging him close as the pressure subsides into pleasure. Matty draws out slowly, and you feel every ridge dragging within you. Pleasure runs up your spine, and you whimper as words leave you, hoping he can tell you want, you need more.Â
He slowly rocks back into you, hips setting an agonizing pace. You feel so hazy, and you have no idea how to make your mouth work and tell him to give it to you faster, harder. Your head lolls backward, eyes blurry with desire.
âAsk me,â he says, and you shake your head, not understanding. He reaches up to his own forehead, down where the two of you are connected, then to his left and right shoulders.Â
âOh-â you gasp, reaching up with both hands to take hold of Mattyâs fist. You press a kiss to his knuckles.
âBless me father, for I have sinned.â Matty moans, his thrusts finding a new vigor. He drills into your cunt, kissing spots in you that have stars exploding behind your eyes.
Bending down, Matty laves over your tits, sucking your left nipple into his mouth as he rubs at your clit. He rolls your nipple between his teeth, spit pooling on your chest. His mouth leaves your breast only to be replaced by a hand expertly tugging and twisting at your nipple.Â
You spread the spit from your tits, pressing down on your lower belly at the hard bulge of him inside you. And shit â you feel him, tightening your bodyâs grip on his cock.
âDo you like that, love, me filling you up so well?â Matty groans, dragging his hand down, interlacing your fingers and covering your hand with his. He pushes down to feel his dick in you, watching himself thrust in and out as the head pokes at your belly.
You mewl, digging your heels into his lower back, letting him roll further into you, cock hitting places so deep in you you didnât realize they existed.Â
âWhere do you want me?â Matty asks with a hoarse voice. You lock eyes with him, wrapping your arms around his neck. âIn me.â He swallows the rest of your sentence with a kiss, tongue fucking into your mouth in time with the buck of his hips.
âTaking me so well,â his hips set a frantic pace. Your eyes roll back in your head, spots dancing across your vision. âCome for me, love.â You fight the sensation off, wanting to come with him. Mattyâs hand burns circles around your clit as he thrusts mercilessly, filling you over and over.Â
With the first clench of your walls around his cock he twitches, a low grunt slipping out of his mouth as he hoists your hip up with one hand and somehow hits deeper. You think you might die if you donât come soon. Hurtling towards the edge, you light up on the inside as you convulse underneath Matty. Eventually, you topple over, arching up into his chest as his cock begins to pulse inside you.
Sticky warmth fills you, and he fucks you through the last waves of his own orgasm. âYouâre fucking perfect,â he moans, one hand next to your head as his hips still. His cock softens in you, but neither of you makes any move to shift.
You smile blearily up at him, and he dips his head to press a sweaty kiss to your forehead. His bed suddenly seems all the more inviting, and you both nearly drift off before you start to feel your cum dripping out around him.
Matty shakes some sense in himself to get the both of you cleaned up, and you wince when he slips out of you. The sudden emptiness colors your vision as you clench around nothing. He pads back to the bed with a washcloth, gingerly wiping your folds of cum and throwing the square into his laundry. He slips on a pair of boxers before handing you a matching pair, tugging a faded navy shirt over your head and gathering your hair to pull through the neck.
You feel as if youâre about to burst from the tenderness as you gaze at Matty curled towards you, perfect mirrors of each other.Â
âStay,â he whispers, kissing you.
âI will.â You close your eyes, hands reaching out to intertwine with his.
#ok well hi guys! im leila nice 2 meet u all this is one hell of an introduction#fleabag if they fucked in the confessional instead of him being scared off#tell me if u like pls#sorry for the end being abrupt i kind of got sick of it#matty healy#matty healy smut#matty healy x you#matty healy x reader#matty healy fic#the 1975#priest au#fics
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Takeda "why can't I sleep at night" Takahashi
#lets traumatise him some more#the one with kenshi isn't related to the first 2 btw#mk1#takeda takahashi#kenshi takahashi#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat#mk fanart#harvart#we gotta put this guy in the worst situations#no matter what mk1 lore says i refuse to believe takeda would like hurting people. i think he just convinced himself he did#ALSO. i dont think takeda was doing stuff liek this often i think he was a debt collector for a loan shark#BUT IM PUTTING HIM IN A SITUATION ANYWAY#also to the people who sent me requests I see em and I'm doing them I just want to put time into it so I can make something nice for u guys#:'3#I'm also cooking more oc stuff muahahahaha
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đ”: happy lemon day <3
desc: a birthday treat 4 u all cuz i miss u !!!<333 i didnt cum or touch 4 over a month until i recorded myself puttin in my plug n came in less than a minute :3 ft whinin n pantin n cummin n wet hole noises like usual :p
#lemon.mp3#queued 2 post at midnight so it is offiicially my bday !!!!!!!#missed u guys :) fanku 4 all da nice dms/asks#things r straightup not gud but i will b ok:)#might still not b active 4 a bit iv got a stressful few weeks comin up#but i will try 4 at least this weekend i think :)#n ill try follow ppl back also !!!! jus feels weird cuz i feeelshy rn lol so bare wiv me plssss
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Drawing this with one hand was hard (something else was hard also)
#my art#the scrunkly#boyfriend to death#boyfriend to death 2#boyfriend to death fanart#btd#btd lawrence#btd fanart#btd2 lawrence#Lawrence oleander#Lawrence#btd2#I need to hear him whimper#đđ#need bussy from a man like him fr#I only ever draw nicely when I want dick#he was doing me u guys
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not a prompt necessarily but Iâm always down for planymphia angst đđđ
in response to multiple asks iâve received for planymphia angst⊠here is this <3
i know baby, no attachment
None of this had been in the plan.
It was the first thing theyâd talked about that first night in Janeâs apartment; Neither of them were looking for anything serious. They were both unavailable, incapable of making any promises. Not now. Not yet. It would be clean, simple, no strings attached. Just two people using each other. Innocently, admittedly using each other, but using each other nonetheless.
Theyâd been on the couch in Janeâs dimly lit apartment. Jane was an obvious sort of gorgeous. It was the first thing Nymphia had noticed about her, what drew her in on that first night theyâd met: sheâd been wearing something meant to lure you in, hypnotized by the clinging of her clothes to her body, the wave of her hair, her eyes tightlined and sharpened like knives. Jane was almost lethal to look at, all done up and primed to kill; the most magnetic friend-of-a-friend Nymphia had ever been introduced to. She was somehow even more gorgeous now, sitting on the couch in her casual clothes, her face aglow in the light of the television, her auburn hair pulled up into a messy top knot. She was painfully, effortlessly attractive, and, much to Nymphiaâs surprise, only so much of a smooth talker. She came off suave at first, all punchlines and quick remarks, but after a while Nymphia could start to see her thinking. Jane would be in the middle of a sentence, flying through it, hurtling towards some revelation, and then sheâd catch herself. Sheâd pause, freeze on a word and scoff at it, like she was considering whether whatever she was about to say would be worth the sentiment. And then sheâd go a bit shy, averting her eyes and playing with the pilling on the upholstery, giving away just how carefully considered she was. And just when Nymphia was starting to think that Jane was completely nervous to her core, that Nymphia might actually have the upper hand in this situation, Jane would bring it back. Sheâd pick her head up and let the words go, say something so stunningly direct and devastating. It left Nymphia a little breathless, a little too endeared, a little too eager to kiss her.
They could have guessed at the chemistry, but it didnât come close to the real thing.
What happened when Janeâs skin hit Nymphia was the sort of collision that produced suns and planets and supernovas, flinging particles off into space with enough pressure to form entire worlds. Nymphia could practically see the stars behind her eyes, fluttering shut when Jane was hovering above her, hand between her legs, finding some undiscovered place that Nymphia didnât know had been there all along, waiting to be found. Jane turned Nymphiaâs body into something more than it was before, transforming her irrevocably. Jane was a comet crashing through her atmosphere, and Nymphia was awe-struck, staring at the sky and watching the sparks shower. You canât be prepared for such life-altering things, it's what makes them so devastating.
What neither of them could have predicted was the ease of what came after - the lying in bed, talking about it. The debrief. Nymphia was a bit too happily fucked, and unwilling to share the extent of her satisfaction. She was worried she would come off easy, inexperienced somehow. Jane, however, was endlessly attentive. She wanted Nymphiaâs experience of the encounter, all the details - what she liked, what satisfied her the most, what she wanted more of. Her sheer desire to please was enough to pull the details out of Nymphia. She was rewarded when Jane allowed her to relive it, this time through Janeâs eyes. Janeâs gaze was far off with remembering, a smile playing at her lips as she recounted her experience of Nymphia in such erotic detail, every telling arch and shudder, and the whole thing was so overwhelmingly flattering that it sort of made Nymphia want to do it all over again.
Nymphia had known better than to pack an overnight bag. She thought she had, anyway.
Her eyes were closed and she was nearly asleep when sheâd mumbled, âI should be going soon.â
Jane just chuckled. âYouâre half asleep already.â Her fingers trailed up the curve of Nymphiaâs thigh. âJust spend the night. If you want to.â
Nymphia's eyes were suddenly open, âYeah?â Jane traced stars onto her hip.
âMhm,â Jane hummed, eyes flickering up, then back to the curve of Nymphiaâs waist.
Nymphia closed her eyes, savored in the feeling of Jane on her skin. A long moment passed.
âDâyou cuddle? Or is that against the rules.â
Janeâs hum was an amused look at you asking so soon. She was already pulling Nymphia to her chest.
That first night turned into a three-day sleepover, because of course it did. Nymphia and Jane stretched themselves over the long arc of the weekend, sharing the sort of welcome, unexpected ease that you canât put down, the kind that youâll happily destroy your routine over and resign yourself to picking up the pieces after the fact. One weekend became another, and then occasional nights at Nymphiaâs apartment with the door shut and her duvet crumpled at the end of the bed. And then they added the weekday rendezvous: Nymphia meeting Jane at her place after work on Thursday evenings, promising not to keep her up late and failing miserably, leaning her head on Janeâs shoulder in the morning as she locked the door on her way out. And then Nymphia was bleeding into Janeâs week, her Tuesdays and Wednesdays, her breakfasts and dinners, her late-night ice cream cravings and subsequent walks to 7-11. And then it was all too regular: Nymphia and Jane, Jane and Nymphia.
It's been a few months now, and there are so many things Nymphia loves about Jane.
She loves how Jane drives with one hand on her thigh, or with her fingers in her mouth. How she looks over to the passenger seat with that special look that's reserved just for Nymphia, and makes her feel like the only person she's ever wanted. She loves how she listens to her music loud, sings along when sheâs drunk and tossing her hair, or when it's Sunday morning and sheâs at the stove and thereâs a record spinning in the living room. Nymphia loves how unabashed Jane is, how bold. How she never hesitates when it comes to the people in her life, how to be loved by Jane is to be fiercely defended by her. Nymphia loves how Jane kisses her in the middle of her sentences, especially when she's talking too much. She loves that Jane is so rough. How she can fuck her like she hates her. She loves how Jane can be so tender. How she can fuck her soft and slow, as reverent as religion. How Jane can make a mess of her, then put her back together again.
There are so many things Nymphia hates.
She hates that Jane is so impulsive, how she strikes so thoughtlessly, how she has to return to the wounds later to draw the venom out of them. How Jane is so stubborn, so set in her ways, so inflexible. How thereâs two Janes - the one sheâs with now, the one she is around her friends. The one who doesnât kiss her, hardly touches her aside from a possessive arm around her shoulder or a tap on her knee. How the real Jane, Nymphiaâs Jane, emerges as soon as theyâre alone together, the one who will see her downturned gaze on the way home and coo what can I do, princess? Hmm? What can I do to see that pretty smile? Nymphia hates that she forgives Jane so easily, that she crumbles every time, that she loves Jane completely and entirely and beyond any measure of hurt that she could unknowingly inflict upon her.
She hates that sheâs still sitting at this party, long after Jane promised theyâd leave. She hates that Janeâs friends clearly like her; they laugh at Nymphiaâs jokes, compliment her shoes, send knowing glances and winks across the room every time Jane so much as mentions her name. She hates how, when they ask what they are, Jane is all too quick to brush them off.
It's obvious that Nymphiaâs upset by the way she pounds up the stairs, by the way she wordlessly digs through her purse for her keys, by the way the anger and the hurt and the disappointment emanate from her like poison.
âI just canât believe they asked that,â Jane scoffs. Nymphia says nothing, gritting her teeth as she turns the key in the lock.
It should be obvious, but Jane is a bit too self-absorbed to notice.
âLike, we donât even know what we are,â Jane says, and Nymphia feels sick, because she thought she did. âWhy would she put me on the spot like that? In front of everyone?â
Nymphia pushes into the apartment, beelining for the kitchen.
âI mean, it was weird, right?â Jane continues, relentless. âWhy do they need to know so bad?â
âYeah,â Nymphiaâs voice is hard, laced with venom. She chucks her keys onto the counter with a little too much force. âWhy would they?â
âRight,â Jane doesnât notice. âIt would be nice if they could just let us-â
âI donât know why they could possibly be so confused.â Nymphia interrupts, working off her thigh-highs.
Jane misses a beat. âWait. Are you-â
âI canât fucking imagine why theyâd think that weâre together.â Nymphia lets her boots drop to the floor, one gut-wrenching smack after the other.
Jane blinks, brows knit together. Nymphia straightens up, fumbles with things on the counter that donât need to be fumbled with. âAre you upset about this?â
âWhy would I be upset?â Nymphia picks up a stray mug, sets it down again. âYou just told all of your friends that weâre nothing serious. Why would I ever be upset about that, Jane?â
âI didnât say that, Nymph,â Jane starts, already on the defense. âI said that weâre something.â
âOh, right. My bad.â Nymphia scoffs. âWeâre something. Let me know when youâre ready to illuminate me on whatever the fuck that means, Jane.â
Jane recoils at Nymphiaâs profanity, unfamiliar with her frustration. Sheâs never seen her like this- so hurt, so ready to retaliate.
It's not funny. Jane shouldnât laugh. She really shouldnât, but sheâs viscerally uncomfortable and horrifically unprepared for this situation, so she does anyways. âAre you really angry about this?â
The whole thing is white hot and embarrassing, and Nymphia has tears in her eyes when she turns and whips her purse to the floor.
Jane jumps. âWhat the fuck?â Sheâs wide-eyed, both hands held up in shock. âNymphia. Are you serious right now?â
âI donât know Jane,â Nymphia bites. âAre you serious?â
âWhat?â
âI kinda thought you might be,â Nymphia steps over her bag. âYâknow, because you cut me a key to your fucking apartment. I thought maybe that constituted we were more than,â she curls her fingers in the air, âsomethingâ.
Jane shakes her head, jaw tight and temple pulsing. When she speaks, it's in a lower voice, almost ashamed. âI donât want to talk about this right now.â
âYou never want to talk about it!â Nymphiaâs voice cracks, a desperate wail. Janeâs mouth opens, already halfway towards defending herself until she looks at Nymphia and sees her bottom lip quivering, the spilling over of her tears. Jane looked back with a concerned, almost panicked expression, lips frozen and slightly parted.
âDo you love me, Jane? Do you even fucking like me?â
Nymphia surprises herself with the question. Sheâs so amped up, so high on adrenaline that she lets it all out- the culmination of weeks of words sheâd bitten back, suddenly pouring forth from where theyâd been collecting in a lump in her throat.
âNo, seriously, do you? Because I canât fucking tell. I think you do, because- because you say all these beautiful things, and you spend so much time with me, and you take such good fucking care of me. So you must fucking love me, right? But when your friends ask, I have to sit there and listen to you tell them that weâre something. Like itâs so fucking confusing to you. Like it's a goddamn secret. Do you know what that feels like?â
Nymphia is fully pacing now, walking the length of the kitchen over and over again. Jane follows her with wincing, pained eyes.
What Nymphia hates, more than anything, is that she doesnât hate Jane at all. Not for any of it.
âIâm fucking in love with you, Jane, alright?â Nymphia whines, hands whipping through the air with frustration. âIâm so in love with you, and everybody fucking knows it. Your friends, my friends, my mom, everyone! But no one seems to have any goddamn clue if you love me too. And you know what? Iâm not sure if I do, either.â
When she finally expels the last of the words from the hole in her heart, Nymphia looks up through her tears. She can barely stomach the sight of Jane, lips parted and wordless, unsure of what to do with the outpouring of Nymphiaâs heart. She stares at her, eyes twisted in pain, then looks to the ground, like Nymphiaâs words have slid off her and collected in a puddle at her feet. Nymphia just cries, a pained and exhausted whimper on her lips as she pushes past Jane and into the living room. She collapses on one end of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and hiding her face behind one hand, hot tears sliding down her cheeks and into her mouth.
Jane stands in the center of the room with her back turned, still facing the phantom of Nymphiaâs words that may very well haunt her kitchen forever. Her head is spinning, because how the fuck did this happen. Nymphia is openly sobbing behind her, and the sound is so gut-wrenching that Jane is nauseated.
Nymphia makes a horrible, shuddering gasp for air and Jane finally breaks, crossing the room and dropping to her knees on the floor where Nymphia sits. She doesnât even look at her, just sobs, and Jane can physically feel her heart fucking breaking.
âNymphia,â she says, placing her palm on Nymphiaâs knee. âNymph. Hey.â
Nymphia shakes her head, face contorted with tears. She flinches at Janeâs hand like it fucking hurts, and Jane winces as the guilt slices through her. She exhales a sharp puff of defeat and drops her head in hurt.
Nymphia just cries and cries, and the reality of the situation sinks in Janeâs stomach with every sob. Sheâs sick to her stomach with concern, worried that Nymphia might actually fucking hyperventilate, and then sheâs gently begging the girl to breathe. She goes to reach for Nymphia again and pauses, scared to reach out, scared to hurt Nymphia, scared that sheâll recoil from her again. Itâs then that Jane knows, for the first time in all of her life, what she wants. She knows, right as it threatens to slip out of her hands.
âIâve never done this before.â
Jane hears her own voice. Her words hang in the air for a moment, floating like smoke between Nymphiaâs shaky, shattered breaths. Jane looks up.
âThis,â she says, a tentative hand on Nymphiaâs knee. âWhat you and I have. Iâve never-â
The words are hard for Jane to stomach. They donât pour out like Nymphiaâs do. They catch in her throat, feel wrong in her mouth. Sheâs not sure theyâll be enough.
âIâve never had this with anyone,â she says. âIâve never wanted to. Not until now.â
Nymphia wipes at her eyes, shudders a bit as her breathing quiets.
âI, um,â Jane glances down, scared to look. âI donât know how.â
Nymphia finally looks at Jane, so small and nervous and crumbling at her feet. She wants to take her hand, to show her, to be endlessly patient even if it kills her. The desire is so enormous, even now. She almost hates herself for it.
âI know Iâm fucking it up,â Jane says to the floor, her voice tiny and wavering. âIâm sorry. You donât deserve that.â
âI just need to know,â Nymphia whispers.
Nymphia swallows hard, and then Jane looks up and its so fucking harrowing, so moving, because Nymphia can see the guilt in her eyes, the desire, the glimmer of words she canât figure out how to say. She watches as she considers, catches herself, lets it go.
âI do.â Jane says. Nymphiaâs heart plummets, because she knows what she means.
âI donât want to say it now,â Jane says. âI donât want it to be an apology. I want you to know I mean it. Is that okay?â
Nymphia nods and Jane mutters over and over I do, I do, you know I do.
It's beautiful and tragic and overwhelming, and Nymphia wants to crash into Jane, to merge together and surpass the need for words entirely. It's too soon to know yet if it's for better or for worse, only that she does it - that she reaches out and takes Janeâs hand.
âI donât know if Iâll be any good at it.â Thereâs a hint of a smile on her lips, a bit of Jane laughing at herself. âBut I want to try.â
Nymphia just nods and feels more tears streaming down her cheeks, and Janeâs crying too, and then theyâre crashing into each other. Nymphia is leaning down and throwing her arms around Jane, who is sitting forward and clinging to her like sheâs scared to let her go. Like she caught a shooting star in her bare fucking hands.
It's a whisper against her hair, but Nymphia hears it. âCan I try again?â
Nymphia could hate herself for it for all of forever. Sheâs prepared to. Jane doesnât know what sheâs doing, and she doesn't either. Nymphia nods anyway.
It's a new world, one of their own making. It's unexplored, uncharted, and theyâre venturing into it together, hand in shaking hand. It's dangerous. Sheâs doing it anyway. She might hate herself for it. It might be the bravest thing sheâs ever done.
#take a shot every time jane says something 3 times in a row in one of my fics#also. too many commas. AND WHAT ABOUT IT#i just want you to know iâve had this one in mind for literal weeks#and i had it in my drafts on AO3 AND I FUCKING LET IT EXPIRE#AND THE WAY I HAD TO WRITE THIS FROM MEMORYâŠ#i love u guys. u better be grateful <3#WOOOO ANGSTY#with a hopeful ending#because i am sooooo nice ::)#prompt#she writes#planymphia#chappell roan inspired OFC#shoutout 2 my muse also. u inspire me#but not with angst. just with ur brilliance#OK BYE
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*pops open another beer đș*
helloooooo can u pls give me some sugar baby dottore hcs??? i am currently bent on him i need u to quench this thirst
the love in hatred [m.reader]
hope iâm not too late in quenching your thirst beer anon hsjsjdsj. i was busy with some uni things and only got to it now. hope you donât mind me adding in a little spice in the dynamic ;D and iâm sure you like it nsfw so there are some little sprinkles of it lmao.
đŠč modern au (but itâs not heavily implied), suggestive themes (of course), a little bit of dark themes, possessive dottore but he hates you at first lol, nsfw terms, reader is rich rich.
ImagineâŠ
Sugar Baby Dottore who absolutely despises you and every fiber of your very being. You were the antithesis of his existence, absolute respite encompassed you while he was the unyielding scholar. He pursued knowledge until the very edge of Teyvat, while you sat back and relaxed, stopping because you âknow your limitsâ. Youâre a coward in his eyes, thatâs what. But youâre a coward that can make a lot of money. And a coward that he can coerce into giving him financial aid in his experiments because he doesnât want to lower his pride to ask Pantalone instead.
Sugar Baby Dottore who was welcomed by the not-so-cowardly you when he came to strike up a deal with you. No longer were you that chipper easygoing lad that he despised, but an incredibly emotionally constipated man that can barely work your facial muscles into a fake smile. It almost felt like getting bit back in the ass by the way you threw him off the loop. He no longer knew you the same way you no longer knew him. Itâs a clean slate. But he still hates you.
Sugar Baby Dottore who was genuinely surprised that you didnât need a lot of convincing. That you were willing to give him everything as long as he abides by certain rules and requests of yours. He hates it (and again, you), but heâd rather cut his throat than ask Pantalone for even a tiny pouch of mora. And while heâs relentless in his pursuit of knowledge, the man knows even the mora in his pockets have limits.
Sugar Baby Dottore who was relatively glad that you never once placed him under a tight budget. You were generous with him and maybe he sort of liked that all he had to do was spread his legs and tempt you into a good time. No attachment. As soon as the fun (for you at least) ends, Dottore wakes up with an allowance that any Northland Bank branch could only gawk at. It was ridiculously heavy.
Sugar Baby Dottore who only ever resorted to seducing you when he needs something at this very instant and his little impatient mind couldnât bare you entertaining your big shot clients first. You promised youâd give him everything if he fucked you dry, right? Often times, when his impatience strikes, heâs already grabbing at the lapels of your pristine suit, tugging you away from your now confused clients while you and him screw in the empty room right next to your study. After milking you dry, he already has his greedy little palm out, expecting you to just drop your entire leather wallet on him (heâs hoarded so much of your wallets already).
Sugar Baby Dottore who at first finds your date nights annoying but necessary (to butter you up into buying him new laboratory apparatuses) â youâre so difficult to talk to! Unlike your days in youth when you would engage him with a small smile, you and your annoying stone face only prompted him to want to watch bacteria cultures grow in a petri dish. But the moment you start opening about your work the more he feels relatively intrigued.
Sugar Baby Dottore whoâs slowly starting to cherish the little knickknacks you give him. He never really batted an eye to the souvenirs youâd bring home to him from your international trips. In fact, he used to cherish the times you were away. He still receives cash and he doesnât have to fuck you. Anyway, he used to just ignore them and opted to only take interest in the money you give him for his lab equipment, but itâs recently that heâs staring more and more at the taxidermies of certain native species you gave him. And maybe some of those magnet things from each nation⊠if one looked behind his wheeled whiteboard, they could see some of the ones you brought home.
Sugar Baby Dottore who starts to get more conscious of how he looks around you and starts taking effort in looking good for you. Donât get him wrong, he knows he looks good, itâs partly why you agreed immediately in financially supporting him. For his looks and his body. But there was something refreshing in making a conscious effort of looking even more alluring â absolutely loving the way your usually stern eyes just digging into his form.
Sugar Baby Dottore whoâs slowly becoming addicted to your scent. Your imported colognes that he used to gag at, heâs now spraying into his suit before he heads to the laboratory, absolutely loving the way when your eyes twinkle in recognition at his new scent whenever he passes by you to get his daily allowance of a hundred thousand mora (how are you not broke yet, no one knows).
Sugar Baby Dottore whoâs slowly feeling the grips of insanity when he realizes that his hatred for you is dissipating into nothingness. When heâs slowly looking forward to your cock shoved up inside him more and more. He hates that within the few months that you and him made that deal, heâs becoming more and more enamored to the mornings where he can still see you beside him, your big sturdy back facing him with all the scratch marks and love bites he made on you the night prior.
Sugar Baby Dottore who becomes far more possessive. Suddenly, the tables have turned. He thought heâd always have the upper hand, he could charm you with his body and thereâs mora in his pocket in an instant. But somehow itâs him that gets hungrier and hungrier for you â he went on an all time high the one time you dropped by his laboratory to talk to him about something he doesnât remember anymore. He likes the attention youâre giving him and archons, he wants you to have him as your sole object of affection. This man will go feral if you made external arrangements in your business trips.
Sugar Baby Dottore whoâs becoming clingy to you. He canât leave you alone for a second. His addiction of you festering within him. Suddenly, itâs not just about the mora that youâre giving him anymore. Itâs suddenly turning into a matter of your loyalty to him, that one day youâll make him your pretty wife, financially secured with his own laboratory in your mansion, leaving you no room for bargains while he stuffs himself with a mouthful of your delicious cock.
Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~
May you kiss your bachelor days goodbye now, because heâs never letting go of you.
Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~
Oh no! It seems like your pretty little doctor has moved onto the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~
Oh no! Seems like your pretty little doctor has moved on the next step, already planning your future with him and only him! Best of luck to you~
#i hope this was worth your beer my guy#this was nice to write LMAO#someone give me a fic of sugar baby dottore i will fucking cave#i will love u#genshin impact x male reader#il dottore x male reader#dottore x male reader#dottore thirst#jhuzenâs stupid hcs#time to do the part 2 in that sagau thing that i did
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goodnight? (or good morning) I really loved your art by the zanreonagi trio, especially Nagi's hairstyle. It suited him so much! Could you draw a art where this shows up better, please?đđ
THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE this was a bit rushed but i hope u like it !!!!
#yrdnzz art#request art#black edit#blue lock#blue lock fanart#nagi seishiro#mikage reo#reo mikage#reonagi#nagireo#rong#bllk#this was a scheduled post ... i rarely check tumblr IM SORRY u guys r so nice .... i should be on here more#I SAW THIS REQUEST FOREVER AGO BUT I COULDNT REPLYYYY I HAD COMMS TO DO#thankfully i got a comm requesting black reonagi so 2 birds 1 stone ya feeellll me#OTHER ASKS I WILL GET U SOON... SOON !
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what do you think about the newest penacony story patch in hsr?
penacony numero uno. actually the best arc out of the 3 so far but sunday should kill himself*
#*i cant beat the boss what else is fuckinggggg new đŹ#im typing this after my idk 4-6th attempt#the fact that you cant do the world level thing like you can in genshin is ass#bailus healing annoys me and gallagher...is actually pretty good for the fight i was worried taking him in but he does p well#i hate complaining about the difficulty of the game cause the reality is that im just not a stats guy and only vaguely understand how#everything goes. im better at an open world beat the shit outta everything game like genshin but i like sr more </3#and theres so few imaginary characters. DIE#aventurine and luocha were really good but either didnt care or was saving for someone else and im paying the PRICE#asks#anon#anyways ueah penacony fire story. gallagher and misha u are the world đ«¶đŸ#also it just looks really good all the maps are so nice looking#the characters are enjoyable i like how everyone plays a part and i actually cared about the story#star rail spoilers#b4 i got to the part ingame i saw mishas va on twitter give a lil thank you and i was like hes deeefinitely dying lmaoo#it was a nice ending for those 2 though bittersweet. im glad misha did get to experience the astral express even if it wasnt the one we kne#mhy
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looping echidna beastlife gif from trying to figure out toonboom
#based loosely off the bird who keeps taunting my cats through the window. brown headed cowbird who will sit there#and flap it's wings and yell until the cats show up and then it starts pecking at the window and jumping back and forth in front of them#weird bird.#it's done this for like two years now i think#anyways. sound it makes when it fluffs up is vaguely similar to echidnas birdsong soundboard noise thing. so. yeag#whisp whispers#my art#ALSO. ANIMATION PRECOLLEGE IS SO AWESOME. IM SO. AHRHRHNFMDM GET ME OUT OF HIGHSCHOOL PRLESDRRRE GIVE ME AN ART TEACJER WHO CARES ABOUT ART#it's so awesome here. toonboom access!!!! this is so awesome. guys toonboom is so awesome. not to turn a hobby into a job but like i was#genuinely kind of sad when i didn't get to go to school over the weekend it's so awesome here. who was going to tell me college doesn't suck#miserably all the time. like it's a precollege but still this is so ??? so much better than anything i've done in the past 8 years#<-except for fine crafts one i miss u fine crafts ...... not even a fine arts credit. but it was a nice class#anyways point being. hm. maybe i could animate for a job. i used to think about it but hs art magnet is so bad guys it's so bad .and i#was like hm this sucks actually. also like worst period of my life but that's unrelated . but this is so. nice? and im DOING things and i#feel like i'm learning??? god i hope dual enrollment goes well maybe i will be able to make it through college...#im so. this is so awesome. precollege animation 2-week intensive thing i love you i love you i love you#BTW GUYS DID YOU KNOW ALL AUTODESK PRODUCTS ARE FREE AS LONG AS UR IN ANY SCHOOLING. MAYA. FOR FREE. FOR AS LONG AS ENROLLED IN ANY SCHOOL#AND THEN SOME !!! i don't even like 3d modeling that much but. maya for free??? that's awesome. that's awesome!! anyways#rambling. i think i missed all normal tags. uhhhhhhhhh#beastlife#<-oh no i only missed that one. awesome. guys i love it here this is so. arbrnsnnm i love you figure drawing. i'm having fun!#with charcoal!!!!! i thought i hated charcoal but this is like !!!!! so aweosme ?????? i'm#this is so awesome. this is so awesome. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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#feeling so silly lawwlll walking in circles#i thnk im feeling a special type of way ..#i know i keep going on ab the samw bs and how crazy gf YEAAH UEAH WE GET IT#but i thnk in doing so im like revisiting parts of myself and writing more and i think im jst being sentimental#sooo sentimental .. so saccharine ..#everyone has been rly nice ab my art LIKE SOOOOO NICE RECENTLY#and imean people always have like im very lucky and grateful 2 be able to feel like i can share my hobby .. ^__^#but i thjnk like . to take smth that is so representational of my like . art goals and wants from a young age#ouuyyyyuuuuuyyfff T__T ooiujjjjjj#I DONT KNWWW i dont know . i dont know what im saying but i feel like i just need 2 talk abd be like hey this is so reaffirming .needs 2#i think like . bc my life turned out soo different than i imagined ive been dealing w like . a lot of hopelessness and feeling soo stuck and#stagnant and idk bad things and in a way i think like . coming back 2 something years later and being able to see progress in such a physica#physical way and to feel like more at ease and more like myself than i ever have is rly crazy and making me think long and hard abt stuff#and its all of these like . reflections im dealing w that r then padded by like some of the nicest comments and tags itslike#head in my hands /pos . grief but like ij a way happy grief#INFEEL SOOO RIDICULOUS its ridiculous it rly is IHAHAHAHAHAHA#i think its bc im turning 25 soon and thats the age i told myself id never live past iykwim which ks like crazy to drop on tmblrdotcom#but there r so many emotions tied 2 that and i think this is just one of the things^ stupid fanart ^ that makes me rly happy idk#do you know what i mean . like i feel so goofy saying it but its genuinely the connection i rly appreciate and means a lot 2 me#i feel like my âthank yous/i appreciate it/ means a lotâ grow tired but its soo fr every time i swear#kicking rocks or watever . i wish i cld extend my gratitude but anyways . thanks 4 reading this far if u have#ughg man and i think of the friends ive made thru this blog specifically nd my eyes r burning#sorp.. guys i love u all thank u.
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mutuals ilysm btw
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I CANT I CANTTTTTTT I WILL LITERALLY EXPLODE RJIKNHGKRSBKFUCKNHJHFBNJEA JFHBAEJHBFJHBHBHBHBHBBAZHJDBAJHDBAJKHBDJKNA????A//////!?!!!!!!!!??!!???!?!?!??!! I CANNOT I LITERALLY NOT THE CAN I CANTTTTTT RAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
#â ïžWARNINGâ ïžTAGS R SUPER FUCKING LONG I NEEEEED TO RAMBLE ABOUT LOVE AND DEEPSPACE I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS#SUGGESTIVE ART? NSFW? LITERAL GODDAMN PORN? LIGHT WORK NO REACTION#POV ROMANTIC OTOME GAME SHIT WITH THE TINIEST HINT OF SPICE??? I CANNOT ITS TOO MCUH I ITS AUGHHH IM JNUHJHFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK#IM LIKE FUCKING PLAYING THIS GAME WITH A HAND COVERING MY EYES WHILE PEEKING ITS TOO MUCH#I AM LOOKING AWAY EVERY SECOND IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH FUCKUNGBHGJGHJHGHGBJJH#I HATE HATE HATEEEEE (not rly) IT WHEN THEY GET NEAR U ITS AUGH ITS SO WEIRD I PUT MY PHONE FURTHER AWAY FROM ME OUT OF EMBARASSMENT#SOMETIMES I LOSE MY IMMERSION AND GET SELF AWARE AND THINK TO MYSELF THIS IS SO FUCKING WEIRD... THIS IS WHY I DONT PLAY OTOME GAMES DUDE#like no hate to otome games its just way too much for me i get way too embarassed abt playing them its def a me thing#ok first of all the combat is p ok actually it reminds me of pgr and hi3 altho i like pgr better :] (lee my beloved)#i did burst out laughing when i found out abt it cause i thought it would be like mysme and its just visual novel shit but its really okay#also i did a bit of thinking as to why i dont find the charas super appealing & its cause theyre obv manifactured to b 'the perfect guy'#like you know how pugs were bred to be cute but end up deformed and stuff? yea kinda like that#im not saying theyre deformed but thats the vibes im getting#deformed pug vibes#the jp vas are pulling thru though#ALSO I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF GACHA pleaseee i alr play hsr + gi + /occasionally/ pgr and stopppp i hate the gamba aspect of the games#AND IM NOT JUST SAYING THAT BC I DIDNT GET THE CARD I WANT#.................. OKAY SO MAYBE I DIDNT GET WHAT I WANT THE POINT STILL STANDS#i like them (reluctantly) all so far ? idk no one is rlly my fav yet tbf im still at ch. 2 so..#theyre all cute ig zayne is nice maybe i dunno i like his shoulders......? hes very cold tho cause haha ice powers#i call him elsa in my head#xaiver is also nice? hes cute? hes sleepy n shit#rafayel is kinda goofy? aloof? but in the 'she's so crazzzzzzzzzy! i love her!' way (look it up if u dont know) and im not super into that#hes the one whimpering though so it is what it is#overall i think ill keep playing until i get the card i want ill also prolly play it on my laptop instead cause its super laggy on my phone#idk how ill deal with the combat part tho but thats a problem for future me lolol#okay yea idk if anyone is still reading this but i dont want my irls to know that im playing this game so here we r#idk why im using the tags to ramble its way more fun like its more casual i think#OKAY YEA BYE#frambling...?
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successfully filed my passport application and now my qpp is making me lunch and i am going to flop down and reply to ao3 comments and then just like. color and chill for the rest of the day.
#i was supposed to do some medical stuff today but. absolutely not.#crying hysterically in public takes a lot out of a guy#eta: too tired to reply coherently to fic comments actually but i will soon. i love u all u are very nice to me.#eta 2: actually i did reply to the comments on the fic from today at least. thank u all <3 i am so behind on other fic comments SORRY
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SO i went secondhand book shopping and found a few forgotten realms anthologies INCLUDING the one where artemis absorbs the shadeâs life essence thru the dagger (also foreshadowing the netherese stuff) (believe itâs called: âthat curious swordâ). BUT ACTUALLY the best part of it is artemis snaps at a waitress and jarlaxle literally makes him go apologize,,,, im hsjhfdzjfnzds
Jarlaxle @ a legendary assassin: do not fucking talk to our waitress like that The assassin in question: đ fine
#jarlaxle king of being nice to service workers#he is everythhing 2 me#Artemis kills ppl but at least he knows when heâs stepped over the line (yelling at a food service girl)#the apology too like....okay.....sir.....#he had his llil silly hat on#legend of drizzt#also was a liriel one too! not sure when its set in the trilogy bcus its not the rite of blood one#i found a bunch like one set around the hunters blades trilogy abt that drow guy who finds khazidhea but idk exc=actly when it takes place#and a lil guen story too <3#but u cn imagine my fucking INTERNAL SCREECH when i flipped to this one to see it was a jarlaxle artemis one i was like ayOOOO
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AUGH had just. the hottest idea for 30 smtn isaiah art. and no means to draw it. im going to kermit
#this is it for me#anyway#in his early 30s he gets really into working out as a coping mechanism to resolve all of what used to go into picking fights#which means he gets FIT.#and obviously his hair is long and pretty like a princess boy. and hes got that to die for tboy waist and hips bc im gay#he ends up having anthony and noah right. after his career is WELL founded so its EXPENSIVE to get pieces from him. ok.#so him setting up an at-home office so he can keep doing tattoo work while hes home fulltime to take care of the babies#so what you end up with is. really fit pretty tguy whos belly and chest are softer bc hes got 2 little ones#whos going to code switch periodically bc hes got baby brain! so if he tells you youre being such a good boy then like. ofc.#while u get to sit in his nice office space in his nice house while hes dressed comfortably and it probably smells good#like >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ok#do you understand my vision#i get periodic trans guy baby fever such is my cross to bare. there must be at least 1 or 2 other freaks in the world who understand#i wish i had money to com someone to draw this my wrist is so sore dude i have no idea when this is going to STOP
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