#I think I needed a sort-of break?

[salamispots]

speedrunning a bday gift for bb nephew hjdfgjh

[sunclown]

Looking for comfort in odd places

[kooldewd123]

clipping this specific question from the scott cawthon interview because wow does this explain a lot about security breach

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dungeon Meshi: The RPG

[pokeberry5]

If you are still taking requests, may I please inquire if I could have a drawing of Jason and Tim working together as a team, please?

this probably isnt exactly what you had in mind, but i think that red robin and batboy from that one death in the family movie ending are so precious

the cowl in question:

bonus:

[hvezdnastreka]

WIP i'm probably never going to finish, because IT'S ANOTHER KLAUZURA SEASON BABYYYYY!!!!

^^(a black and white walk cycle animation of a girl, who's legs aren't drawn yet ) GET CONCEPT ARTED LOSER (This time we're making concepts for our own video game! :) )

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[kooki914]

What are asgore and spades favorite colors

[al-luviec]

band au

[cheeseburger443]

🎣 ...

[valgeristik]

revisiting the modern au now that ive gotten to know them better🫡

more info + some elaborations under the cut <3

Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List

E-sims donation

^ this is from my very first post on the topic, and i still think most of this applies. maybe i went too far with the architect part tho but it was funny in the moment

But this is what i mean by calling him 'man with every job'. it was really funny to me how he does many errands for people all over the place in the games, and i want this to translate. hence, he's the guy who can fix your broken chair. and build a shed. and drive. etc. most useful neighbor to have

what field did he get a PhD in, u ask? entomology. he was like 'man, i wish i could get paid for lookign at bugs all day'. and well...

if u really think about it, ull see my vision

As for Zelda... I think she spent a lot of time being pressured by her father to get the best grades n nothing less, and then to get into a good college etc, leading to many nervous breakdowns and other. Issues.

By the time she's about 23 the relationship becomes less strained, there's less pressure from his side, and in any case it was fine, really, he just wanted a good future for her, really, so- Point is, she wants to keep a good relationship with her father despite All That. Link still fucking hates the guy tho If her dad is the only one getting burnt food at the new years party, it was an accident and no one can prove anything <3

and i think she'd be in the engineering field. it just. feels right i dont think theyre actually married. yet

[sergle]

someone remind me later to take pictures of Toby outside. i got a harness and a leash for Mr. Toby The Cat and we've been taking walks outside. and he loves it

in the meantime here's mr. Hugo after running around at the creek

[pip3dream]

i beg nora to start (prologue) the queens game with the foxes x ravens game from tkm i need to read the scene of kevin switching to his racquet to his left hand and the crowd going wild from his pov

[littleghuleh]

but I know you’ve got a taste, so just take a bite of me

Perpetua x unnamed fem (priestess reader/but written in 3rd pov)

cw: nsfw!! explicit smut with the tiniest bit of plot bc I have no self control. semi-strangers. rough w/a little choking, blood + he bites(!), s&m-ish.

It’s accidentally 1900 words oops.

Despite hours of trying, she couldn’t sleep.

She’d wandered through the ministry for what felt like an eternity, her mind racing the entire way. Unsurprising to her, she’d wound up in the easiest place to settle her thoughts: the chapel.

Now, she knelt on the cool stone floor before an altar, robes pooled around her and eyes closed as she whispered dark prayers into the silent room.

The room felt frostier than usual; the only light coming from the black candles she’d lit over the altar. She almost felt she imagined it — another trick of her mind, perhaps. Maybe it was manifested from her own inner turmoil, from the cloud of stress and irritation that had fallen over the ministry since the tense shift in leadership. This was not her first transition while with the clergy, but something was different this time.

Just as her chest began to tighten again, she heard it.

There was a rustle in the shadows to her left, her gaze snapping up immediately to search the darkness.

She saw it.

A pair of eyes emitting an eerie glow, one dark and one pale.

V.

She didn’t move, still as the statues lining the walls around them.

She’d only heard anything about Perpetua from Copia, and there wasn’t much at that. As far as she knew, he’d never even been here. She was warring with whether or not to say something when he took a cautious step forward.

“Don’t stop on my account, Sister,” he said, his voice low and measured as he eyed her kneeling form.

Keeping her features neutral, her fingers twined together to rest in her lap. “What are you doing here?” Stupid question, she thought.

He took another step closer, the dim candlelight reflecting shimmers of purple from his clothes.

“A creature of the night searching for peace,” he replied, finally coming to rest in front of her. “Much like yourself, I imagine.”

“If only we found it,” she concurred, carefully practiced nonchalance lacing her words.

His lips curved up into something akin to a smirk. He tilted his head, assessing her blatantly. “You’re Copia’s pet, aren’t you?”

She bristled, a wave of annoyance washing over her. She was close to Copia, yes, but she didn’t appreciate the mocking hidden beneath his assumption.

“I have faithfully served Copia, yes — and Papa Emeritus III before him. Just as I will serve you, if you will it so,” she said plainly.

He crouched down, his face level with hers for the first time.

On instinct, she forced her gaze away, but it was only a moment before Perpetua’s fingers reached out, claws gently digging into her chin as he brought her eyes back to meet his.

“Your devotion is noted, little one,” he drawled, warm breath ghosting over her face as he held her. “Though I wonder how deep it truly goes.”

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but it was enough.

His hand lowered, fingers wrapping around her throat but not yet putting any pressure. Her pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips, but it was the only sign she was truly affected.

“I’m not afraid of you, Papa.” She willed her voice not to waver, but not out of fear. A mixture of emotions stirred in her, from confusion and curiosity to something much darker.

He grinned, the act almost feral on him, as if he was baring his teeth.

His fingers tightened around her neck, just short of cutting off her air. Sharp claws pricked at her skin, emitting a soft gasp from her.

He leaned forward, his lips pressing into the shell of her ear.

“Maybe you should be.”

His thumb pressed harder into the center of her throat, a sharp sting that made her grit her teeth in response.

Suddenly, the barest hint of something metallic hit her nose.

His free hand rose up, curling into her hair and tugging just shy of painfully, baring her neck to him further while the other continued to hold her in place.

She had no time to think before his mouth closed around the wound he’d made, his tongue lapping at the drips of blood. As he grew even bolder, teeth nipping almost playfully against her sensitive skin, she found her head falling back further of her own accord; giving him better access.

When he finally pulled away, just far enough for his gaze to meet her eyes, she caught speckles of her blood shining across his lips. She watched him carefully, realizing his eyes had gone another shade darker; his pupils were blown with a heat she suspected mirrored her own.

The fingers on her throat rose to brush against her cheek, the gesture deceptively tender as he whispered to her. “I wonder… are you prepared to give everything?”

She shifted higher on her knees, her back straightening as she inched closer to his face. “Yes, Papa.”

He smiled — so wide and sharp it caught her off guard as he released his grip on her hair to press into her shoulders. Her back hit the freezing floor, but his hand caught her head, setting it down gently even as he crawled over her, eclipsing any shred of light she could see before.

Perpetua’s mouth crashed into hers, a mess of tongue and teeth. She returned every bit of fire, growing bolder with every passing second. Her hands snaked around his neck, fingers tangling in his dark curls while her nails brushed against his scalp.

He groaned into her mouth, his hips pressing against hers almost desperately.

He broke the kiss only to trail them down her jaw, returning to her throat, and down to her chest where it was exposed from her neckline.

His teeth sunk into the skin of her breast, just enough to bruise without piercing. Without breaking the seal from her skin, his hands reached between them, roughly gripping at the fabric of her robes to pull them up to her waist, baring her otherwise naked cunt to him.

His hands moved to her thighs, claws scraping gently down her skin. His mouth followed, lips brushing against her inner thigh for only a moment before taking another bite, softer this time.

“Such a pretty offering,” he purred into her skin, his breath ghosting over her heated flesh making her shiver.

“Please,” she whined, the word slipping from her tongue unbidden. Her fists clenched at her sides, every inch of her skin practically burning.

“Impatient,” Perpetua growled back, though she barely heard it as his head finally dipped fully between her legs.

Another whine from her echoed through the otherwise silent room as his tongue lapped at her core. He started with languid, maddening strokes, another groan vibrating against her skin as he tasted her.

Each flick of his tongue seemed to make him move faster, his claws dig in deeper, something dark and focused overwhelming him.

When she reached for his head, scrambling for an anchor, he allowed it. He looked up at her face, eyes intent, though the only proof she had was merely an instinct.

She panted as she looked back in his direction, a silent communication passing between them.

His mouth switched focus solely to her clit, sucking almost gently as two of his fingers delved into her welcoming heat with a firm, unrelenting pace.

“V,” she cried his name, overwhelmed with the onslaught of sensations. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her grip a mirror to the one his free hand still held on her thigh.

He hummed in acknowledgment, the sound lost to a mere vibration into her sensitive flesh.

She squirmed under his attention, her entire body tensing and her hips lifting against her will, desperate for more.

Another cry, strangled and foreign even to her own ears, fell from her lips as she came on his tongue. His movements became messier, wilder, his fingers doing nothing to slow their pace as he savored every drop, every twitch, every sound.

He pulled back abruptly, making her gasp at the loss of his fingers. She sat up, following him, as her own eyes blazed while watching him free his cock from its confines, though he was otherwise still fully clothed.

She reached out for him, taking it into her hand for only a second before Perpetua’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, yanking her away and pushing her back onto the floor.

“Not this time, little bat,” his voice soft and lulling despite the fierce grip he was pinning her down with.

She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes glazed over and thoughts blank of anything but him when he finally pulled back. He pressed the head of his cock against her clit, an almost inaudible moan leaving him as he teased it through her folds, coating it in her wetness before finally, mercifully, sliding into her.

He stilled for a moment, her only warning before he set a brutal pace. He held her in place, his claws pricking at the skin of her hips as he pounded into her.

He leaned down to cover her body with his, pace never faltering, as he grazed his teeth against her neck once more. Her hands came up without a thought, the pads of her own fingers digging softly into his shoulders through his clothes.

Their bodies melted together in a violent tangle — hips snapping intently, nails clawing desperately at each other, breaths heavy and filling the sacred space.

“Little bat,” he groaned against her neck, another warning hidden beneath his words.

“Please,” she whispered back, so quick she couldn’t even pretend to be coy. “I need it, Papa. Please.”

He shuddered, his shoulders tensing beneath her palms as he bit into her neck again, pulling another cry from her lips.

His hips wavered a single time before he buried himself fully inside her, his body shaking with the force of his own release. Hot spurts of cum coated her internally as she pressed impossibly harder against him, unwilling to lose a single drop.

As Perpetua finally stopped moving, breathing a semblance of normal, he removed his teeth from her neck to place gentle kisses across each mark he’d left.

He extricated himself from her body slowly, mindful of each brush of their skin, no matter how brief.

“You took me so well, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft, surprising her.

She blushed under his praise, grateful for the dark of night that he likely couldn’t see her.

…He couldn’t, right?

She watched him, tried to, as he tucked his spent cock back into his pants, smoothing over his clothing as if nothing had happened. She sat up, though still on the floor, her skirts only pulled over her lap haphazardly.

Perpetua eyed her back, a thoughtful, almost melancholy expression taking over his features.

For a moment, she thought he would speak again, but instead he silently turned towards the altar she had been praying to. Before she could break the silence, he blew out each of the black candles with one big huff, throwing them into total darkness.

She scrambled to her feet, hands reaching for the altar out of muscle memory. She found the matches she’d used before, relighting a candle to help her see.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a sense of fear washing over her for the first time the entire night.

He was already gone.

[quibbs126]

I think it’d be funny if you had a version of Megatron and Optimus who had the whole “were once friends (or more) but fell out and hate each other and are probably now on opposite sides”

But like, not with each other. They separately both have this with some other characters. They kind of just know each other as that bastard running the other side

[zylphiacrowley]

Plus-one

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