#yeah you're welcome

[kitwilsonsass]

[shotmrmiller]

i need simon to be the one neighbor with a generator when the light's been out for days and when you shakily ask him if he can let you at least charge your phone he just drags you into his home and tells you that you can stay if you pull your weight ie. feed him and wash his ripe work clothes.

sure. you don't know how to cook but he eats it like gordon ramsey made it, doesn't even leave crumbs on the table.

you mix colors with whites, dark with light, but luckily for you, all he wears is black. (not like it matters. if you stained a wife beater pink, he'd blame it on his girl mixing her red thready knickers in with his own clothes)

it works, you suppose, but then he tells you that yall are about to have company so make plenty of food. it's 3 others but they all eat like a family of four.

and this is where things take a turn. where he always left you alone before, his hands are on your shoulders. waist. hips. curling around your ankle, thumb digging into your foot beneath the table. the scottish one notices and tells you both to keep it PG. ye're in decent company, he grumbles.

he helps pick up the dishes once everyone's happy and full of whatever you threw in the oven. stands so close he's pining you against the sink, counter digging painfully into your skin.

"they like ya," he says. well yes, you rather noticed when they kept complimenting the science experiment you called dinner. you also noticed that they called you missus. or maybe you misheard. their accents are pretty thick.

after a nightcap, he sends them on their merry way. "the missus is tired. off with ya." so you hadn't misheard.

you aren't sure how one thing led to another. how you'd been aimlessly drying dishes with a rag to having his head between your thighs, tongue dragging between your folds, fingers pressed into you up to the knuckle.

what do you know is that where he bit your neck as you came still aches. he'd been talking filth that would have even a sailor apple cheeked as he used his spit slick thumb to rub your stiff pearl in tight little circles, feeling you felt your peak approaching at a speed that almost frightened you when he sunk his crooked teeth into the junction of your neck. hard.

enough to feel a bit of a stinging tearing of skin.

ouch. you'd ask if this is also a part of pulling your weight but he's doing it for you as he drags you toward his bedroom.

[patovpran]

#pretty boy

[lokimobius]

LOKI S01E06 “For All Time. Always.”

[lilspacewolfie]

Slapping these all together because I love his handsome mug so much 🖤

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Fuck it, details

[tending-the-hearth]

the pevensie siblings find, when they return to england after being in narnia for so long, that it's not the fact that they're twenty years younger that is the most difficult to adjust to, but the clothes.

not in a "i wore expensive fabrics and jewels and silks and velvets for twenty years and now i have to go back to wearing inexpensive fabric?" way but in a "i spent twenty years wearing layers of comfortable heavy clothes and cloaks and soft fabric that didn't scratch and the feeling of loose clothing is a sensory nightmare" way.

edmund, who is perpetually cold, and always had at least three layers + a cloak on, and who the narnian tailors learned preferred inner linings of velvet because any other fabrics let too much of a chill in, and cloaks made of a study fabric meant strong protection against the elements

lucy, who can feel every little scratch and out of place tag in her clothes, always having narnian clothes fit her just right, made of soft fabric that never scratched her skin, and the narnian tailors knowing exactly what to use, and how to stitch the clothes so no loose threads ever bothered their beloved valiant queen

susan, who hates being restricted by her clothing, who loved the looser, softer-fitting arms of her gowns, because it meant that she could draw her bows faster, and tailors being able to pick which fabrics were the sturdiest and could withstand susan's draw, while still giving her the gentle appearance that perfectly hid her true abilities

peter, who can't stand anything tight around his neck, who only wore close-collar shirts when he had to, and who the narnian tailors knew to make the shirts a little looser around the neck, making sure that nothing closed too tightly, and making sure that his battle wear, though protective, never felt too constricting

and lucy and susan begin wearing headbands when they're back in england, every single day to mimic the comforting sensation of wearing their crowns that they're desperate to maintain

edmund and peter missing the weight of their shields on their backs, so they carry their school bags around as long as they can just to feel more balanced out as they walk alongside their sisters back home

just all four of them growing so accustomed to the weight of their narnian clothes and gifts and crowns, the lengths and layers of fabric, that when they are back in england, their old clothes are the biggest sensory nightmare to all of them, and they're just desperate to get their comfort back

[spookomooko]

[cangrellesteponme]

i don't think wonderland is ready for those alices

[prostocupoftea]

Sometimes PC stands for "Player Cat"

aka these games made me feel like a cat pushing a glass off a table so i drew it.

The Cat Parable

C.a.t., Stop

There Is No Cat

The Catridor

(i know he says "how dare you" not when you push the button but when you boot up a game... which is even funnier... but im an artist, its gonna be like dat in my comic-)

Do Not Buy This Cat Demo

Extras! Character design sheet and some uni sketches (:

[wearecrowley]

Crowley's eyes 1 of ?

[viggos-mortensen]

The Room (2003) // Killers of the Flower Moon (2023)

[shitty-proendo-blackout-posts]

endos are systems.

you are cool. YOU. ARE. A. SYSTEM.

#endo safe <3

[chipper-smol]

"So forward, Wukong. Careful~ you might trick me into loving you again."

[t1oui]

barty crouch jr. is eleven the first time evan rosier takes his breath away.

he's a second year in barty's house, with warm brown skin and blonde hair and amber eyes that flash gold in the sunlight. he knows regulus. one of barty's dormmates, somehow, and he smiles at barty like he wants to know him, too.

barty is thirteen when he finally figures out what the butterflies in his stomach mean.

they're sitting down at the lake, barty on the grass, soaking up the sun. pandora sits on a blanket next to him, her half of it in the sun, the other half underneath regulus in the shade of a tree. dora's busied herself with making flower crowns, and evan and dorcas are swinging at each other and laughing, both ankle deep in the water of the black lake. evan reaches up to kick water at her, and the silver of his anklet - a thin chain with a silver daisy charm hanging off of it - catches the light.

dorcas ducks away and shoves evan square in the chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps before he finally lands hard on the grass next to barty. it must've hurt, even in the soft green, but instead of wincing, he just turns to barty and grins.

oh, barty thinks. it's so obvious, he thinks.

barty is a fourth year the first time he kisses evan rosier.

it's the first christmas he doesn't go home for. he spends long hours knocking about the castle, staying out past both the regular curfew and the one made later for the break.

"can't sleep, crouch?" evan had asked him, making him jump, polished prefect badge - no doubt pandora's handiwork - sparkling from his collar. and suddenly there was mistletoe and the chance to finally make his fantasies a reality. there was the taste of evan's lips (vanilla) and the smell of his shampoo (cucumber) and the feeling of his arms around barty's waist (intoxicating).

even on that dreary, cold evening, there was hope.

barty is a sixth year when regulus begins going out with james potter.

they're on the train, barty halfway out the window, evan's arms tight around his middle in the fear of him falling, and barty hoots with laughter when regulus jumps into potter's arms. potter's a seventh year like evan. head boy, a gryffindor, and one of pandora's best friends, for some reason.

"leave them be, barty," evan snorts, pulling him back through the window. barty watches him, opening his mouth to speak, only to be swiftly cut off by his boyfriend adding, "we can be as dramatic as we like, but i'm not risking missing this train just so we can kiss in front of it."

barty groans in protest, but by that point regulus has arrived at the door to their compartment with a sheepish-looking james potter in tow, so he decides to annoy them instead.

barty is seventeen the first time he comes to hogwarts without evan, and it makes him feel empty.

he's still got regulus and dorcas, of course, but there's a gaping hole in the group now that the twins have graduated. regulus is quiet without james to bring him out of his shell. dorcas doesn't cheer as hard during quidditch games - ones without regulus in them, of course - without marlene mckinnon there to cheer on. and barty? barty isn't himself without ev there to easy his anxieties.

night after night, barty and regulus curl up in the same bed for nights of bad rest. it gets easier, over time. letters pile up. floo calls happen weekly. and while regulus and dorcas struggle, barty thinks about the future. the one decided by him, and not anyone else.

two days after his eighteenth birthday, barty steps off the hogwarts express for the last time.

regulus and dorcas don't hesitate to sprint past him towards james and marlene, who wait with evan futher down the platform. barty, though, hesitates. gives himself a moment to take a deep breath, smile at evan, and start running.

evan envelopes him in a hug, his arms a reassuring weight around barty.

"you must be tired," he whispers, the hint of a smile in his voice. "eight newts, barty. you're insane."

barty grins into evan's chest. "i missed you too, rosie," he mumbles. he lets out a content sigh he didn't realize he was holding in, and evan hums.

"welcome home, love," he says. "our home."

[slimey-wallz]

Had the sudden urge to draw him for some reason💚🍃🐛💚🍃🐛💚🍃🐛💚🍃🐛💚🍃🐛💚🍃🐛

Oh yeah, and in the line of caterpillars,

I swear the paper was green, my phone camera is absolute garbage 🥲