#uni pin

[artificial-angels]

the characters ever

when I brainrot about characters I imagine them doing silly things in my mind

[vamosgk]

✍🏻Bamos

#gipsykings

✨

#hanem #vamos

#bamos #graffiti

#boceto #sketch

#graffitisketch

#blackbook

#letters

#slowlife

✏️

✨

[annag-loves-drawing]

Day 7: Drip

[artbyhistomercy]

(MINI) SKETCHBOOK TOUR ♡ 🍋

got a new sketchbook + brushpens so here are some sketches i made today :) welcome to my account 🌙

[the-macabre-goatman]

[albusdraw]

sandy coast, lighthouse illustration.

[wheelie-butch]

"that's the reward for enduring the horrors of the bus: you might see a trans girl"

- my girlfriend

[lynnbutlertron]

do you guys fuck with the scudlertron badges….. i put them on my tote bag i need everyone to know i am SO annoying

[skibasyndrome]

🎃 Simon's kinktober fic masterpost 🍁

Soooo... since, despite all the factors slowing me down, I plan on pushing through with doing all the prompts I thought I should make a post to keep track of everything in one place

Day 1: Sit back and watch (I'm gonna dance for you) (masturbation & spit) “Have you never thought about it?” he asks, and Simon is about to chide him for avoiding a question with a follow-up-question, but Wille is pushing on.“I’m just curious,” he says, pointedly casual about it (Simon doesn’t buy it, Wille seldom feels ‘just’ anything, he’s a thinker, that man, sometimes to a fault). “I’ve never seen you do it.” And, as if he’s sensing the protest that’s about to come out of Simon’s mouth: “Without me fucking you, I mean.”

Day 2: Sharpen your teeth, sink into me (marks & biting) “Please,” is all he can muster, eyes squeezed shut against the threat of tears, of overwhelm, of having everything he tried to hold in come spilling out. Not now, he thinks, not yet. He needs more, needs Simon’s mouth and hands and body to coax the raw emotion out of him. Needs to feel it all before he can truly let go. Fingers digging into the skin of Simon’s back, into the straining muscles of his shoulder blades, he swallows again, forces his voice to form the words, broken fragments scattered for Simon to put back together. “Simon,” he breathes. ”Need you, please.”

Day 3: In silence, I'm yours (sound/staying quiet, hands & 69) “Shit,” he whispers, moves to pull away, but is stopped. Simon’s fingers quickly wrap around his wrist, keep it in place, keep it right there, right where it’s firmly pressed over Simon’s mouth. Wille just looks at his palm, then into Simon’s eyes. They’re wide, staring back up at Wille, glinting dangerously. And, for a moment, neither of them moves. It’s Simon who makes the first move, who now, after all, tugs Wille’s palm away from his face. His eyes are still intently boring into Wille’s and, god, Wille feels himself twitch inside of Simon at the sudden charge of the air around them. “Wanna try to make me?” Simon whispers, almost breathless now.

Day 4: Love the shape of your mouth (and the back of your head) (makeup, praise kink, oral sex, deepthroating and light dacryphilia) “You can’t keep saying that,” is all she says as she drops her head down and onto Simon’s stomach. He hears her let out a frustrated little noise into the fabric of his dress shirt, and he laughs, pointedly ignoring the way her proximity to his crotch is making him feel.She's laughing, too, that same carefree laugh that Simon’s been thinking about all evening. He puts a hand on the back of her head, stroking over her hair for a moment.“I mean it, though, Wille” he says, because he’s not going to let her deflect again. “You look stunning.”

Day 5: I've never met arms like yours (cockwarming & spooning) “You're hard,” Simon mumbles into Wille's forearm. Wille lets out a small laugh. “Yeah,” he admits apologetically, kissing the mole on the back of Simon's neck. A little begrudgingly, he removes his other arm from around Simon's middle to get it between them, so he can rearrange himself in his sweatpants. “Sorry.” But Simon's hand shoots up, keeping Wille's arm around him in place. “It's fine,” Simon says, then wiggles backwards a little until Wille is firmly lodged between Simon's body and the back of the couch. “Feels nice,” Simon hums and leans into him some more, pressing his ass against Wille’s erection.

Day 6: And the mirrors gon' fog tonight (mirror, hands, a little bit of praise) “Is this-,” Wille’s voice is hoarse, deep, sounds like he’s overcome with something that Simon can’t place. “Is this okay?” Simon only nods, meeting his eyes through the mirror, feeling a pang to his groin at the way he is forced to look up at him from this position. There’s a noticeable shift in Wille, his shoulders seem to get less tense, he seems to stop straining his neck quite as much. “Yeah?” is what Wille pushes out. Then, clearing his throat: “Do you like this?”

Day 7: One, two, three (Not only you and me) (threesome, first time [having a threesome], lapdance) And, so, Wille finds himself exactly where Nils promised he could relax for once, have a good time, calm down after all that stress of the past few months or maybe years. As it happens, that promised space of escapism has quickly shrunk down to a small seat, in the booth with Simon. Simon who was excited to find two fellow Swedes in a random Swiss town, who's in Verbier because his sister's friend invited the two of them to her family's holiday chalet, who's here, specifically, because he didn't want to intrude on girls’ night and because they don't have these kinds of parties in his hometown. And because he doesn’t really go to them in Stockholm, either, where he's currently studying at university. Simon who's got the prettiest head of curls Wille has ever seen, and the funniest laugh and whose lips look so pillowy and soft that - not that he'd admit it - it hit him like a punch to the gut to watch Nils kiss them on the dance floor a few minutes ago. Wille goes to Verbier with his friend Nils. They end up meeting Simon at a party.

Day 8: Body language say you wanna (semi-public sex, cruising, roleplay) “What’s your name anyways,” Wille mumbles, mouthing his way back up to the guy’s ear while he lets his hand reach out and wrap around his hard length. Wille wonders if he got him to this point or if the other guy had anything to do with it. Wille sincerely hopes this is all his doing. The man gasps, then lets out a short laugh. “Does it matter?” he asks, and Wille bites his earlobe. “You tell me,” Wille whispers back, overtaken by a new kind of fervor, now that he’s got the man in front of him like this, naked, needy, hard. He jerks his fist over him a couple times, reveling in the way his breathing picks up, in the way he bucks into his hand. “Do you want me to use it when I fuck you?” he adds, stepping closer, trying to open his own pants with one hand while applying more pressure to the other man’s cock.

Day 9: On the tip of my tongue, on the top of your thighs (1/2) (wax play, thighs, marks) “Are you okay? Does it still feel good?” He asks, instead of letting the emotion take over. He trails his fingers up along the outside of Wille’s thigh, relishing in the way he jumps a little. When he looks up again, he sees Wille nodding, head rustling the linen it’s resting on top of. Simon waits, drawing small circles into the outside of Wille’s thigh. He knows this can’t be easy, feels a little out of it himself and he’s not even the one lying there. After another moment, he hears Wille clear his throat. “So good,” he pushes out, breathless, a little hoarse, sounding stunningly overwhelmed. Warmth spreads inside of Simon’s chest.

Day 10: And if I searched a thousand miles I'd be dying to find (2/2) (intercrural sex, thighs, marks, oral sex) If that’s okay, Simon thinks and is a little too overrun with lust to laugh, but he definitely scoffs at the ridiculous notion that it wouldn’t be okay, that he’d be anything but absolutely fucking enthusiastic to fuck Wille any way he wants. And he should tell him, really, let him know that anything he could ever want they can talk about and Simon will be really fucking glad to try with him. Instead though, he postpones that, for later, after, when he’s not busy trying to keep a remnant of a rational thought in his mind at the view in front of him, of Wille lying, waiting for him, beautiful and breathing heavily and, fuck, grinding his hips against the mattress in tiny movements.

Day 11: My skin on your skin, again and again (frottage, cum play, fingers) So, technically, it would be more than a little unwise to have sex in these conditions. But Simon’s never been known to make smart choices, has always had a knack for impulsive decisions. So of course he’s perched on top of his friend now, of course he’s rutting his cock against Wille’s, skin gliding together easily with sweat and spit and whatever else. Of course he’s got his hand wrapped around both of them, trying to keep up a steady rhythm, trying to make this good for them, while Wille is being difficult in this stupidly perfect way of his.

Prompts below the cut

Prompts by the events blog:

Water

Desk

uniform/clothes/accessories

Mirror

Neck

Fireplace

marks/spots/freckles

Food

sound/staying quiet

Threesome

hands/feet

Oral sex

First time

Frottage

Worship

Toys

face-sitting/deep-throating

Masturbation

Multiple orgasms

Lap dance

Biting

(semi-)public sex

Anasyrma

Blindfold

ice/sensory play

Lingerie

Phone sex/sexting

Role-playing

Cum-play

thighs/intercrural

Dacryphilia

Edging

humiliation/praise kink

Wax play

bondage/handcuffs

Nipple clamps

dom/sub

choking/breathplay

Daddy kink

Spanking

Other prompts, sent in by tumblr users/anons:

Angry sex

Insecurity

inexperienced/experienced

Cozy

Praise

trying sth new

Toys

romantic get-away

[serenescribe]

This is a silly little fic that sparked from a conversation I had with @hanafubukki, and so I wrote it! What started as a discussion about Lilia eating teabags quickly shifted into the very sweet idea of a young Silver bringing his papa some tea leaves.

I hope you enjoy!

Lilia smiles as he hears the front door open, the sound of the creaking hinges reaching his ears. “You’re finally back, Silver,” he greets, turning from where he’s been preparing something at the kitchen counter — mixing plenty of flour and berries and a little bit of sauce together for quite the splendid treat! — to face the door.

He watches as Silver, nearly five years old and dressed in a shirt and some patchwork overalls, stumbles through, a small little pouch clutched in his hands. Tilting his head, Lilia asks, “What have you there, hm?”

Silver doesn’t speak, not until he totters over to the little kitchen area where Lilia crouches in. It’s only then that he raises the pouch, a resolute expression on his face — and how amusing it is, Lilia snickers silently to himself, to see such seriousness on that chubby-cheeked face! “This is… for Toto,” Silver insists, pushing the pouch into Lilia’s hands.

Lilia blinks. “Well now,” he says, reaching out to ruffle Silver’s hair, his other hand holding the mystery pouch. “What a kind boy you are, thinking about me while you’re out in the woods!” And this isn’t abnormal by any means, because Silver always comes home with a gift for him, be it berries — poisonous and otherwise; the poor child doesn’t know any better just yet — or a wilting bouquet of wildflowers, but Lilia relishes in it anyways. Affirmative remarks are helpful for raising a boy as young as Silver — or so he’s been told by the Zigvolts.

Silver giggles as Lilia runs a hand through his hair, mussing up those light strands. “Open it, open it!”

So Lilia does, pulling on the string and loosening the pouch. And as soon as he does, he finds…

A handful of shredded leaves, some wet moss, a couple of berries — the non-poisonous ones, and Lilia sighs with relief at the knowledge that Silver has caught on — and, to top it all off, a pinecone.

Lilia blinks. “This is lovely, Silver,” he says, and he’s not lying, because anything this sweet human boy he’s growing fonder of, day after day, brings to him sparks a bit of warmth in his heart. “But… what is it?”

And imagine Lilia’s surprise when Silver grins at him brightly, and says, “Tea!”

It clicks for him after a moment’s pause, mind caught on that one word before everything falls into place. Oh, Lilia realises, eyeing the pouch, at the way the leaves have been shredded, the small size of the pinecone, everything clumped together. It looks much like the contents of the little canister of tea leaves he has, a gift from Baul’s daughter along with a teasing note about drinking it if he finds it a bit hard to sleep.

Silver has brought him tea leaves. Silver had watched him scoop them out and steep them in water, perched on tiptoes on a stool pushed up against the counter as Lilia prepared breakfast, and thought to himself that he would go out in the woods and get Lilia some tea.

Warmth swells forth within his heart in one big burst, engulfing his chest until it reaches his cheeks.

Whisking the pouch to the counter with his magic, Lilia sweeps up Silver in his arms, spinning around as the boy yelps before he giggles. “How darling of you,” Lilia coos, happiness thrumming through him. “To think of me, and to bring me such a sweet gift!”

“I hope you like it, Toto!”

“Well let’s find out, shall we?”

And though Lilia enjoys the cup of tea he brews very much, relishing in it as Silver watches, the young boy still too sensitive to enjoy a scalding drink that’s too hot for his tongue, he realises, halfway through, that there’s definitely something poisonous in this.

Oh well, he thinks, as he feels his throat beginning to itch relentlessly from the inside-out, his eyes beginning to swell slightly. That’s another thing to teach Silver in the future, I suppose.

Perhaps he’ll avoid eating the leftover tea leaves for once. He’ll have to scrape them into the bin. What a waste, Lilia sighs to himself, though there’s no real disappointment in any of it. How could there be, when he’s basking in the thoughtfulness of Silver’s actions?

[solarstices]

couldn't get this page right and I'm honestly just rlly tired of it so here u go tumblr!!! Messy wip i might pick up later!!!

[artificial-angels]

trollsona...

+ a drawing of my irl self

[vamosgk]

✍🏻Bamos

#gipsykings

✨

#hanem #vamos

#bamos #graffiti

#boceto #sketch

#graffitisketch

#blackbook

#letters

#slowlife

✏️

✨

[annag-loves-drawing]

Day 6: Golden

My favorite for now.

I had zero ideas for this topic. Then I opened Pinterest and my home page was full of photos of Pedro for Casillero del Diablo and I thought they were perfect.

[tomatojuiced]

welcome! ᯓ⠀ᩙ°. ‼︎

ᯓ an introduction

hello!! i'm torin, i’m 19, and i’m starting my first year of university this fall; i’ll be studying japanese and linguistics, but i also love to read and write, so much of my content will probably be related to those topics or just my life in general!

ᯓ about me

i enjoy all kinds of literature–but mostly fantasy, magical realism, and classics atm!–and i’m very passionate about languages! i also like to make art and poetry, write, worldbuild, play video games, listen to music, and travel (when i can lol). lately, i’ve been working on worldbuilding for a fantasy novel, so i may post about my progress on that, too. oh! and i’m an infp, sag sun, scorpio rising, and cap moon! 

my hope for this blog is to create a safe space for self-expression, productivity, and calm! as a queer and neurodivergent person, all three of those things can be hard to prioritize at times OTL

i’m always open to any asks, chats, or declarations of undying love you may have and i’ll try my best to reply promptly (sometimes i forget social media exists, bear with me teehee 🙏) i’d love to find some mutuals and friends here on tumblr and am excited to join the community!!

-PS- please no meanies on my blog, bigotry and hate will not be tolerated here :p

[rayatii]

What War Is

(A sort of poem by me.)

What is war?

To me, war is

The streets of my city lined up with makeshift tents

The run-down school next to my place now hosting refugees

Every public school now closed because they are hosting refugees

Seeing places that were once so familiar to me, get destroyed in a wink

Passing apartments destroyed by bombings, and

Seeing workers already working on rebuilding them

The instructions and maps for bomb shelters on the website of my university

My professors constantly reminding us that we are going through uncertain times (but please take your responsibilities seriously)

The countless online lectures on stress management and living through times like these

The hybrid class arrangements where only a maximum of four students show up to class in-person, because many are out of the city or even out of the country

The extra burden of balancing stress from this situation and class requirements we fell behind on due to schools and universities closing for a while at the start

Learning the difference between the sound of a sonic boom and a bomb

Briefly mistaking every loud noise I hear for a bomb sound

Hearing more sirens outside than usual, and

Wondering more than usual where these sirens are headed to

Anticipating every day the familiar buzz of a reconnaissance drone over my city (I keep trying to troll it)

Losing sleep from being startled awake at night by distant bombings

The most depressing kind of packing for a trip ever

Living half a live in one place and half a life in another

Missing things I once took for granted

Texting and calling loved ones living in a certain area after a bombing, to see if they are still alive

My family always leaving the TV on for news and updates while I am catching up on my assignments

Me and others telling each other jokes about the politicians and military forces perpetrating the destruction

Feeling a certain sense of extra kinship with my fellow countrypeople

Discovering new points of view, on- and offline, new allies and new enemies, surprising or not

People online, living thousands of kilometers away, who see us as collateral damage or think we somehow deserve this suffering because of our political situation

Finding out how very little some people know about our lives here

Sometimes resenting people overseas for living their best life

Reminding myself not to let the situation corrupt my mind and turn me into an asshole

Learning more and gaining wisdom (but at what cost)

"Relatable" posts on Tumblr taking a whole new meaning

Understanding famous stories of war, real or fantasy, the true effects of war, more than ever

My friends and loved ones overseas asking me near-daily if I am okay, and

Me replying every time that yes, I am okay, I am safe

Being grateful that I am alive and well, but still not being quite happy

The awareness of the unreality of the situation

Living through historical times, and resenting it

Agreeing with others that we are experiencing a Lite™ version of survivor's guilt

My weekly therapy sessions now becoming more necessary than ever

Generational trauma becoming not-so-generational-anymore

Oscillating between complete desperation, and determination to not give my enemies the satisfaction of my submission to fear

The tiredness and stress I carry, often without knowing, and

Being aware that everyone around me carries that same tiredness and stress, often without knowing

Reflecting on hypothetical scenarios

Reflecting on where to go

Reflecting on whether the next bombs will drop on me or on people I know

Reflecting on what I might leave behind

Reflecting on the possibility of suddenly losing everything I hold dear

Reflecting on the possibility of suddenly losing everything

Reflecting on the very possible eventuality of death

Reflecting on my life itself.

But even so, I see that I am privileged, because

I still have access to food and clean water (some don't.)

I still have a roof over my head (some don't.)

I still have access to my education (some don't.)

I still have enough money to afford those basic needs (some don't.)

I still have all of my brain, both my eyes, ears, my nose, both my arms, legs, and all my fingers (some don't.)

I still have nearly all the trinkets and indulgences, useful or trivial, that are dear to my heart (some don't.)

I still have some time to focus on leisure (some don't.)

I haven't developed any serious mental issues from all this (yet) (some did.)

I live in a relatively safe area (some don't)

Me and my family have at least one option for areas to retreat to (some don't.)

My loved ones are all still alive

I am still alive.

(some are not.)