#whatever muses

[mymanymerrymuses]

Going to bed in roughly 20 minutes so UNTIL THEN lemme see how many Mini Opens I can spam the dash with

[nothatsmi]

The raven king, chapter ten

"How interesting," they say.

(and they say it a lot)

(i'm not kidding. the entirety of the first two books is just both of them saying how interesting the other is. it's suffocating.)

Another medicated Andrew! And black haired Neil!

The two first books hold such bangers, and clearly not enough people ramble about them. I'm a sucker for the relationship they have afterwards obviously, but even before that they're hilarious. Many underrated scenes that could be worth drawing.

Also I underestimated how Neil dress and presents himself - like: he wears oversized, worn out and faded, preferably light-colored clothes; messy curlyish hair with bangs; sports hoodies; JORTS-

... He's got a banger style actually.

[noodles-and-tea]

Little Stan getting manipulated by Bill has excellent angst potential but consider.

Stanley just, keeps tricking Bill. Because Bill would definitely massively underestimate Stanley and how far he’ll go to protect Ford (like in the actual show). We also know Stanley has the street smarts between the twins and could absolutely tell Bill is full of it.

And because Bill would absolutely loose his mind if he kept getting foiled by a snot nosed eight year old that isn’t even supposed to be here

I like to think that he doesn’t even try that hard he just does not even care about bill

[owlbelly]

so. i understand where the sentiment "listening to an audiobook is the same thing as reading the book" is coming from - i mean, yes, the bottom line is you are taking in the same words in what is possibly a more accessible (or maybe just more enjoyable) format for you! and i'm 100% in agreement that "book snobs" who say "no you didn't really read it" if you listened to the audiobook are full of shit. ofc you should engage with stories in whatever way works for you, there is no moral or intellectual superiority to reading words off a page vs. listening to them

but it also is different? an audiobook is a performance. choices a narrator makes about line readings can drastically influence the meaning of the lines. even just different voices, accents, etc. - there are creative choices being made by the person delivering the words to you, and that affects your experience of the story in a different way than if you were making those choices in your own head. it might even change the way you visualize what's going on!

this isn't a bad thing it's just An Actual Thing & i think it's worth talking about. it rubs me the wrong way when people act like accommodations (and for many people audiobooks are an accommodation) always result in a completely identical experience, or even that they should, & if you suggest that people accessing media in different ways are having different experiences it's somehow ableist

anyway on rare occasions i really enjoy audiobooks but mostly they are much less accessible to me than words on a page (i need to be able to reread, flip back and forth, go at my own pace) & i also just really strongly prefer to encounter a text on my own before hearing someone else's performance of it, if possible! again i don't think it's "better" to read a physical book i just think it is a Distinct form of experiencing a story & acting like the two things are entirely the same is sort of doing a disservice to both

[illiaccrest]

Based on what the subtle dialog in his backstory implies about what the slave masters used him for...I can't bring myself to imagine Aventurine as being totally normal about intimacy...😩

[ylangelegy]

every day is a sunday 💫 minghao x reader x vernon.

footnotes: when your biases release a song, you write the goddamn smut. ⓘ mdni. porn with no plot, mentions of female anatomy, pet names (v: 'babe', m: 'pretty', 'sweets', 'good girl'). v: riding, unprotected sex. m: exhibitionism, praise. not proofread. word count: 1.4k.

your thighs feel like they're on fire.

you've been riding vernon for the better half of the past hour, your knees pressed on either side of his thighs. between the three of you, vernon was usually the one who gave in first. there's no sign of that tonight.

your movements are getting erratic, desperate, and the two boys in the room can tell. vernon shoots you a lazy grin from underneath you, his gaze half-lidded as he merely rests his arms on the back of the couch.

"what's wrong, babe?" he practically coos. it's almost cruel, the way he's kept his hands away from you this entire time. "you're gettin' sloppy."

"vernon," you hiss, your tone edged with annoyance. your hands dart out to grasp his shoulders as you try to better control your thrusts. "can you just— please—"

vernon chuckles, the sound breathless and low. "please what?" he taunts.

"hansol."

vernon's gaze flicks past you.

you can't see him, but you can imagine how minghao looks from where he's seated across the room. one leg over the other; arms crossed over his chest. that clench of his jaw.

"what?" vernon huffs, the word practically whined out as you punish him with an intentional roll of your hips. "i was just asking."

"you're being mean," minghao accuses.

when you hear the sound of minghao's chair scratching backward, you could almost cry with relief. you're not sure, yet, what reprieve the other man might offer; the mere thought of it coming is victory in itself.

you keep your stuttering pace on vernon, your cunt fluttering around his dick in a way that usually has him finishing quick. but he's just a little bit distracted, caught between muffling his moans and watching minghao approach.

when you feel minghao's lithe fingers press into your ass, you let out a low whimper.

"need some help, pretty?" minghao asks, his voice deceptively soft and sweet for what he's offering. his words are barely above a murmur, spoken as he presses his chest to your back.

you give a jerky nod of your head, your body still moving mostly on its own volition in your pursuit of getting vernon to finish. all the while, the boy below you looks like he's holding his breath, his hands now clenching at the couch cushions.

"please," you breathe. "please, hao."

"so polite," minghao teases, but he's already maneuvering to get a better hold of you. you pause to hold yourself up by your shaky knees. vernon's cock slips out of you, the leaking head just barely pressed into your entrance.

once minghao's a little more certain with his hand placement, he wastes no time.

minghao practically pushes you down onto vernon. your greedy cunt swallows him right up, his tip sliding straight home into one of your sensitive spots.

you gasp. vernon lets out a keening whine.

minghao lifts you up then thrusts you back down until vernon's dick is spearing you once again. you try— you really, really do— to match minghao's pace, but he seems dead set on manhandling you like you're nothing more than a doll that's meant to get vernon off.

vernon's knuckles are white where they're against the cushions. his head is thrown back against the back of the couch as minghao works you down onto him with brutal efficiency.

"fuck," vernon gasps, his chest begin to heave. "that's so— fuck—"

minghao drops you back down onto vernon's lap with punishing sharpness. you feel vernon fill you up, the sensation of which draws a moan from you.

"you were taking your time," minghao grouses. "and i was feeling a little more impatient than usual."

despite your fucked out state, you vaguely register the feel of minghao's clothed hardness pressing behind you. you arch your back enough to give the other boy some friction.

minghao responds with a soft sigh. "always so considerate," he says, not once ceasing in the way he's guiding your bouncing on vernon. "but let's get hansol to finish first, hm?"

vernon's hips begin to twitch underneath you, his control slipping with every drag of his thick cock against your walls. he bucks up, a string of cusses falling from his lips.

"there it is," minghao says a little too smugly.

minghao shifts from behind you, just enough so that he can lean forward and have his lips right over your ears. you can feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin as he whispers conspiratorially, the words still loud enough for vernon to hear.

"why don't you do that thing with your pretty little pussy, sweets?" minghao prompts. "milk him dry."

somehow, you manage to nod. your body complies unquestioningly— your warm heat clenching around vernon's hardness.

"christ!"

vernon lets go of the cushions and finally touches you, his hands landing on your hips. minghao lets out a tut of disapproval.

"come on, 'sol." there's just enough unquestionable authority in minghao's words that you know vernon will comply to whatever the man commands. "reward her for being a good girl."

another lift, another thrust. vernon's teeth sink into his lower lip as one of his shaking hands delves between your bodies, finding your clit. he begins to draw tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his own movements uncoordinated with the pace that minghao has set.

your breathing grows more ragged, the onslaught of sensations beginning to take its toll.

vernon's cock, twitching inside you with every buck of his hips. minghao's guidance, which has now gotten faster to meet vernon's impending climax.

"doing so well for us," minghao tells you, his fingers pressing just a little tighter against your skin. you can just imagine what he's seeing— the way your tits bounce, the way vernon's throbbing dick is completely sheathed, the way the pair of you look so, so gone.

"hao," you choke out.

vernon pinches your clit, drawing out a surprised moan from you.

"don't moan his name while you're fucking me," vernon chides, his voice hoarse. "you'll have time for that later."

the thought of that, of a later, makes you dizzy. you give a whimper at the warning before practically slumping against minghao, giving him more carte blanche to move you as he deems fit.

whether or not he cares to admit it, minghao is beginning to get a little desperate, too. his hold on you slips for a brief moment and he lets out an annoyed huff before grasping your ass even tighter.

he knows he has to get the two of you to finish soon if he wants to have any fun himself.

minghao presses you down again, leaning forward until his teeth have caught on your earlobe. your breath hitches in your throat and even vernon groans, knowing what's about to hit.

"need you to come for me, pretty. can you do that?" minghao murmurs. "he's not gonna finish 'till you do, and i really want some of that pussy for myself. i've been dreaming of fucking his cum right back into you, sweets. wanna make a mess of you—"

the absolute filth of minghao's words sends you careening over the edge, your orgasm temporarily blindsiding you. your walls flutter around vernon, so tight that it's almost like you're pushing him out.

minghao holds your body up as waves of pleasure wash over you. vernon has absolutely given up on all pretenses of being cool at this point, his hips ramming up against yours as he abuses the tightness of your cunt.

vernon climaxes with a drawn out whine of your name. his release spurts into you, overflowing enough that there's a rim of white at your entrance as his thrusts grow weaker.

you can feel the gentle press of minghao's lips against the top of your head.

"such a good girl," minghao says, his hands moving up and down your arms as he settles you just enough so that vernon is bottomed out, stemming his own cum.

you lean against vernon's heaving chest. he reaches up to shakily run his fingers through your hair. "what he said," vernon breathes, and you huff out a laugh.

you're still catching your breath when you hear the unmistakable sound of minghao's belt clinking off.

you finally deign to glance at him, and you're treated to the sight of his lips curling into a smirk around his next two words.

"my turn."

[pumpkin-mines]

a couple wips. I don't really like drawing lately

[maxyvert]

🌊🐠 Ocean 🐠🌊

Ko-fi - Inprnt - Patreon

Old vs new under the cut -

[protect-namine]

shipping aside... making them related just ruins one of the most fun running gags which is that kaito can pass off as shinichi by pure coincidence because gosho has same face syndrome and can only draw like three unique male character designs at best and also because he just smooshed the worlds of detco ang magic kaito together for funsies

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[nayasch]

I MISS HIM SO MUCH AHHH

[unproduciblesmackdown]

always enjoyed the Chess Set In The Foreground perspective framing used here

now also noting like, huh, a chess set in a general store just visited by marigold competitors who killed one of their guys and are now on the way back from their rendezvous point w/suppliers

[st-just]

I don't judge people who nigh-exclusively read fanfiction (writ large), but I admit I do get like, confused by the people who proudly proclaim how they only read different ten thousand different iterations of (functionally) the same characters going through the same few meet-cutes and romcom tropes.

Does it not get tedious?

[smashwolfen]

Pretty late in the evening but apparently, it's Ingo day in japan?? Been seeing lotta Ingos in my feed and I just so happened to have been messing with the man in my sketchbook this whole week on and off XD

Man with receding hairline decides to grow out a damn silver mane to deal with the cold, also featuring the pre-eeby look I imagine him as, and his canon short asf haircut thats tucked away down there in the corner

We love and appreciate the balding Ingo (Bingo) in this house!!!

[thedemonofcat]

Kaer Morhen keeps a lot of magic objects.

One of them is a mirror that shows you the most beautiful person in the world; however, it does so based on your subjective opinion. Beauty is inherently subjective, so the spell couldn’t work in an objective manner.

The young witchers used to dare each other to stand in front of the mirror. A risky thing to do if the person who showed up in the mirror was another trainee. Or—gods forbid—an instructor.

Nowadays, it just gathers dust in the crumbling Keep.

One cold winter’s day, Geralt stumbled upon a mirror locked away in some forgotten storage. At first, he was startled to find it didn’t show his reflection. Instead, it revealed the image of a strikingly beautiful man with blue eyes and brown hair.

The man in the mirror exhaled, fogging the glass just enough to trace words with his finger.

“Help me.”

Logically, Geralt knew he should probably question why someone had trapped another in a mirror. But in that moment, his instincts took over. Without thinking, he reached out a hand. To his surprise, it passed through the glass, allowing him to grasp the other man’s hand and pull him out.

The man stumbled free, brushing off centuries of imprisonment with a sigh. “A hundred years trapped in that blasted mirror,” he muttered, his voice lilting like music. He glanced up at Geralt with a bright smile. “I’m Julian, by the way, though most people—well, most people did—call me Jaskier.”

“Geralt,” the witcher replied curtly, his eyes narrowing. “Why were you trapped in a mirror?”

Jaskier sighed dramatically, as if recounting an age-old grievance. “I was a Muse in training,” he began, noting Geralt’s confused expression. “You know, a Muse. We inspire mortals—help them create art, music, poetry. I was being groomed to become the next Muse of Music and Poetry.”

“I’m guessing things didn’t go as planned,” Geralt said dryly.

“Oh, it was going splendidly at first! I’d even reached the part where I gained immortality,” Jaskier replied, a note of bitterness creeping into his tone. “Then some sorcerer decided to trap me in a mirror just because I refused to become his personal Muse.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve been stuck in there all this time?”

“Not just stuck,” Jaskier said with a huff. “The sorcerer, you see, was a terrible narcissist. He cursed the mirror to show only the most beautiful person. Naturally, he assumed it would reflect himself. Spent so long admiring his own face that he didn’t even notice the mob coming to kill him.” Jaskier grinned impishly, then leaned closer to Geralt. “You, my dear Witcher, are the first person to actually see me in a century.”

Geralt stared at him, unsure whether to be flattered or exasperated.

[kitamars]

curse