#queue and saturation

[niftukkun]

fun design bits for watcher

[magnolia-sunrise]

before they have to pack and leave the motel they stopped in for the night, before pain comes rushing back in and with it the dire reality of their situation, before the fear and uncertainty, they get to share this: a lazy morning, the first cigarette of the day and a rare moment of something almost domestic.

[maeriquitecontrary]

Now a wandering ghost unable to express its feelings Lost will to show a sign asking to cease - Silencing the traffic's load roar

[wolveragrace]

☀️ Sunny days ☀️

[6okuto-moved]

hai everypony. used some of u and ur ocs as my muses for a little (big) (rough) spread :3 So u know u r perceived and enjoyed.

if ur surprised because we don't talk um. i recognize ur user and or did some tag lurking so. hey... um. Hey...... tags and notes under the cut!

@khalixvitae - KHALIX ! do not know this guy At All but i decided to mix things up and use him!! if u have any thoughts to share abt vil i'm all ears! >__<

@sweet-milky-tea705 - JAYCE! yasenia. smoking duck gif. is anything else needed 2 say... i didn't forget her ears i just. upside down. hair. and. giuspelazpe

@koyukiki - Leon Kennedy. LMAO he's literally the most random guy on here. "why hoseok da bus driver" vibe LIKEHEEBFHSB but u know. hiii koyuki!!

@shobvrry - wehehehe... hiii friend,, little shoto for u!! :3 do u like the placement of frozen joke bear. get it. bc. because. he. and. get it

@dira333 - kENMA!! this is evidently Not the thing i wanted to give u but. this has taken a while and i actually want 2 redo the other thing so. haii dira!! \o/

@satorisoup - tHe Only self ship other than me on here. based it on ur existing self ship comms and picrews.. R ur eyes green. like. ..IMCRYING . ROCK ON LENE!

@last0bread - !! azalea has SUCH a cool + unique design!! she's also quite satisfying to draw?? LOL. i also like doodling flowers so thanks for letting me do that :3 🩷 /silly

@mustddart - oh my god i didn't know u changed users and just got so scared. I rock w these guys. i don't know their dynamic i based it solely on this post (& it being percy) but I ROCK W THEM!!! U r one of the people i recognize by user btw. Hiiii stay awesome!!!! 🩷🩷

@luv-indigo - SOOO lovely!! loved reading about nadine and seeing her in each step ^__^ !! i recognize u by user too. Haiii all ur art and ocs r super nice and cool!!! 🙆🏻‍♀️🩷

@vaultureculture - bro i am rocking w this design so hard. elvia is stunning like okkk???!! leander i see u. i get u 🙂‍↕️🔥 phlomis is also Awesome i love the dynamics and story going on IM ROCKING SO HEAVY!!

@kandy-katz - omg. i did the chibi first and by the time i got to the last empty space i realized sol was the only one who was a sole (haha) chibi and !! 😭 i felt so bad bc his full design is SO SO cool so he's here twice. HE'S AWESOME!! 🩷🙆🏻‍♀️

@dreamtydraw - smoking duck gif. apple bag trio.. lOVE THEM!! 🩷💌 wasn't originally gonna do all 3 but i saw this pose and thought it was silly and fun.. yeagh. all ur ocs are always so lovely and unique!!! everypony reading this go check dreamty on itch.io and play all 5 games NOW!!!

@evanox - SARA RAAAHHHH!!!! saraahhhhh!!.???? haha get it. ...just looks like i spelt ur name wrong. Let's carry on. MAEHWA!!! 😭🩷🩷 worked off jayce's art I hope she looks ok. sage is drunk and saying something stupid /affectionate Idk what.. hehe she's lovely!!

@anonymous-eggy - Big Fan of masks and i love this one. HIS DESIGN IS SO FUN!! i finished drawing them the fastest fr fr i want that shirt so bAD and their hair is so nice yeahh i rock w az HEAVY!! 🩷🩷

@someiicecube - cannot overstate how heavy i rock w esther. u hooked me at an awesome stunning design and reeled me in w reading too many romance books and wishing it was him. so me. SO COOL!!! 🩷🩷

da process........

yeahgh. 👍 i wud like to draw some for real in the future but actually if i draw anything in the next few days my brain will explodeo.

[doors-worstenemy]

infinights Arc 5 - Armageddon

[strangewiggles]

i need you to depend on me because i depend on you

redraw of this

[bebemoon]

taking @konvalia to a jeff satur concert .

[alsteneldoeight]

cw for eyestrain under the cut!

kablam! sends you into a coma all for the sake that i preserve your soul in machinery because i think you're one of a few "chosen ones" for something. wait what do you mean "hey al that's a very sudden lore reveal are you okay"

[sunlightfeeling]

FMV Pamphlets (2001)

Alt version of 3rd:

[laputaskies]

[squishosaur]

losing my mind i think

[survivalxofxthexfittest]

@rioreeve

[not-so-hidden-one]

Assassin's Creed Valhalla: Countryside

[vinegar-on-main]

@meme-boys-blog @beantothemax

before and after we taught him Frost Shield 🥺🥺

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink, sickfic, SFW, requested.

Mara is surprised to see him. "Hey Captain Riley."

He nods. “She in the back?” The knit between her eyebrows is quizzical, and she shakes her head.

“What? No… she went home. Hours ago. Said she didn’t feel well.” He doesn’t bother to school his expression into neutrality, and she turns sheepish, like somehow she’s the one in trouble now. “I told her to call you. She was nearly falling asleep back there. Almost face planted in the batter of these cookies.” She points to an artfully arranged tower of chocolate chip cookies, their little placard labeling them as ‘brown butter’. What that means, he’s not sure. 

“How long ago did she leave?” He had no idea you were sick. Worse, you didn’t say anything. You lied by omission, sending your usual morning text messages, your before lunch check in with zero mention of feeling unwell. 

He’s not angry with you, because he understands you. This is uneven footing, new territory, a lot to learn for his little fawn. You’re finding your way in this new life, and he has plenty of time.

 A learning experience, that’s all this is. 

“Like… an hour ago? Maybe two?” A frown tugs his lips towards his chin. 

“Her car is still in the lot.” 

“Oh yeah… she walked.” Walked? You walked? 

Your ass is going to be sore for a week. 

There’s a queue forming behind him, so he steps back, gives her a parting glance before turning to leave. “Thanks Mara.” 

“Tell her I hope she feels better!” 

You live on the fourth floor. The elevator in your building is busted, along with the front door’s lock, and there are no cameras, no security, nothing stopping anyone from walking inside. 

Just his baby in a fourth floor apartment with a measly deadbolt and chain. 

You’ll be so much happier at home with him.

It takes three tries for you to come to the door, and when you find him on the other side, your expression splits in two, one side saturated with relief, the other, buzzing with nerves, but somehow still half asleep. 

“H-hi.” You croak, sweating and shivering, standing there in only a t-shirt. 

Miserable. You look miserable. 

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, stepping inside, immediately placing the back of his hand to your forehead, trailing down your chin to find your pulse fluttering beneath your jaw. It’s elevated, and you’re burning up, tears gathering on your waterline, threatening to fall.

"D-daddy," you hiccup, trembling, reaching for him just as he pulls you into his chest with a palm against your neck, rubbing circles at your nape as he takes a quick look around. He’s never been inside your apartment before, though he’s been tempted multiple times, made the trip to your building often, ensuring you’re home safe, watching the comings and goings of others who live here, looking for any red flags or reasons for immediate concern. He’s inspected empty units, tested the standard locks, checked for mold and mildew. It’s adequate, but your own flat is too cramped, and he knows you feel boxed in. 

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Let me look at you." He tips your chin up and moves into your line of sight, glassy, glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. "Have you seen a doctor?”

“No,” you sniffle, immediately planting your face back into his sternum, “’s just a cold.” 

“You don’t get a fever with a cold sweetheart. Have you taken anything?” He doesn't panic. It's not in his programming, not a part of his reality but seeing you like this, in distress, suffering, is starting to rewire long dormant standards.

“Don’t have a fever.” There’s a short hallway across the living room, two doors on either end, one he assumes is your bedroom, and he starts moving that way, keeping you tucked against him. “I took some naproxen.” You’re floating along with his direction without a single peep, barely recognizing where you are when he sits you down on the edge of your bed. 

First things first. He has to get you out of these clothes and into something dry. “This has to come off baby girl, it’s wet.” 

“Wet?” You’re barely holding yourself up, and he probably only has a few minutes before you’re out. 

“Your body is trying to regulate it's temperature, so you've been sweating.” He finds pajamas in the top drawer of your dresser, lips rolling into a smile as he unfurls the t-shirt. “Gremlins?” You throw him a squinty glare. 

“It’s a good movie.” He brushes his lips across your forehead, tasting the slick of salt before pulling away and tapping your shoulders. 

“Arms up.” You oblige without question, the trust that sometimes gets lost in this newfound dance shining through brilliantly. His hands brush against your ribs, your belly as he slides them beneath the hem of your shirt and tries not to wince at the scorching temperature of your skin. “Good girl. Don’t want you going back to sleep all sweaty do we?” He quickly pats the sheets, relieved to find them dry. 

“No daddy.” Such a sweet girl. You roll instinctively, burrowing in the mound of things in your bed, knees curling up towards your belly. There are at least three different colored fuzzy blankets in your bed, six pillows, and a stuffed cat of some kind, something about it vaguely familiar but difficult to place. A crumpled notebook with loopy handwriting and small drawings adorning the pages is wedged beneath your hip, and there’s a kindle sitting on the other side along with an empty water bottle. The frame itself has a shelf at the head of the bed, and it’s lined with stuff… a small lamp, a ceramic cupcake, a collection of seashells, chapstick, lotion, an empty mug, a glowing mushroom, along with two pairs of glasses and a few candles. It’s clear this is your space, where you’re safe and comfortable, a nest of your own making, a place just for you, and it’s fitting, all of it. Each little piece is perfect just like you. 

He lets you sleep while he cleans and refills your water bottle, finds the naproxen and your towels, pulling a washcloth out so he can run it under cold water for your head. You definitely have a fever, but if you can break it on your own there’s no reason to take you to a doctor. Time will tell, but if it gets worse, you’ll have to go immediately. 

Tally marks for today’s transgressions sit quietly on a slate in the back of his mind for far later, satisfying realization settling in against his soul. You’ve earned a spanking, and stricter rules. 

It’s a fine line. He doesn’t punish for the sake of punishing, there’s nothing good in it for him, or you, but he will punish you for things like this, things that put you in harms way, things like not telling him you’re sick and in need of help. Things like fucking walking ten blocks home. He’ll punish you for stepping outside a boundary, or failing to follow a rule, all of it a double edged sword, one he wields delicately, because often, punishments come with their own rewards, whether they be emotional or physical.

You rouse a bit when he comes back, making little sounds as he props you up to take more medicine, dabs the cold washcloth around your face, cooling you down and wiping some of the stale sweat away. He smooths a palm over your forehead. “We’re going to have a long talk about rules when you’re feeling better.” 

“Mmkay.” You press your nose into his neck. “Are you going to lay with me?” He kisses your temple. 

“In a little bit, I have some work to take care of. Close your eyes for now.” You nuzzle down into the mattress against his thigh and he can’t resist placing his hand atop your head, holding you there, your cheek bleeding heat through his pants, warm, wet breath building a damp spot. 

“But you’ll be here?” You mumble it, and like you’re afraid the answer will be no, you wrap an arm around the width of his thigh. He chuckles. 

“I’ll be right here.”