#should i have a sketch tag……..nah

[randomminty]

The og iono fan

[woogiez]

maybe this would shut you up?

[luckykero]

the guys

[sirensea14]

The Human!Questers (Holly, alice and cala are excluded)

This is cringe and a bit cursed💀 but i posted it anywaaaayy

[marcmorrigan]

☀️ a light that can reach it all

so now im branded for taking the fall 🌙

OCs, he/him for eiden and she/her for maive

[canine-teethed-sheets]

WOWZA WAHOO

Inspiration for this comes from this ask sent by @its-paperd !!

Cross belongs to Jael Peñaloza Killer belongs to Rahafwabas

[katyspersonal]

How me reblogging some fanart goes:

*scrolls*

There is nothing special about this drawing, nothing to stand out, simply academical level perfect painting with perfect shading of just character in Environment, so I won't give it attention

*scrolls*

There is nothing special about this drawing either but the artist is clearly beginner and is currently ignored, I wish to support them!!! *reblogs*

*scrolls*

I could've forgiven drawing his arm turning into tentacles because although it isn't accurate it is still funny and should have been canon, but his hair is black and waving, not brown and straight! Ignored.

*scrolls*

Her ribbon is not like this at all, but this is a cute interaction! Fine, I will reblog..

*scrolls*

OH MY GOD RARE CHARACTER RARE CHARACTER NO ONE ELSE DRAWS HFHFJVGJ IT IS RARE CHARACTER OH MY GOD BLESS YOU OP I LOVE THAT YOU'VE NOTICED THIS RARE CHARACTER VFUYFJFJ BARK BARK WOOF WOOF 🐕 *chews the post a little before reblogging* *+10 HP*

*scrolls*

Ah, funny mem- VARGRAM ERASURE GOD FUCKING DAMMIT VARGRAM ERASURE DO NOT LAUGH RETREAT RETREAT!!!!!!!! Ugh how the HECK even lore-obsessed freaks like me are still doing this?! I don't care that you enjoy neglecting minor characters, Vargram's set is NOT a covenant set!!!!

*scrolls*

Shit, wtf? Why this person still haven't blocked me, after how negative they've been to my friend? Okay scroll carefully to not accidentally press like on Tumblr mobile.... scroll past carefully.... very slowly...... please mobile don't fuck this up...

*scrolls*

This fanart is really inaccurate visually but the concept is perfectly lore accurate! I am definitely supporting this! *reblogs*

*scrolls*

This person's uncolored doodle got 800+ notes in 3 hours when my best and most detailed works are lucky to cross 50 notes... I am worthless and should quit art, the girls clearly like my lore posts more than my ugly art... *sniffs* No wonder, I draw like a child, my faces are ugly, my anatomy is broken, shading makes no sense... *sobs* I bet fans of the characters I draw have cringe attacks when I touch them... God I remember how back in my Mico simping days other Mico simps side-eyed my fanart of him, and it was clear it is because it is ugly... It isn't even a matter of "they want to prettyfy him" because they do reblog and like "ugly" art of him, they just hate MY style in particular because I am a TERRIBLE artist.... *sobs*

*scrolls*

.....what. the. FUCK. Why THE fuck this perfect, amazing, fully colored drawing with hella effort in it barely has notes? Fuck this fandom, I hate this fandom! Nevermind, my art isn't bad, this fandom is just too stingy for support! *reblogs*

*scrolls*

Haha, nice o- VARGRAM ERASURE VARGRAM ERASURE RETREAT RETREAT

*scrolls*

Wow, these sketches are lovely, I want to reblog- *sees the caption like 'some sketches from insta'* Nah, I do not want to interact with artists who otherwise hang out on another site (which sucks and is very toxic to artists btw) and just use Tumblr as a dumping ground or portfolio. I only like people who actually USE this site.

*scrolls*

Good and quality art, but nothing special about this design. It feels like they drew fanart of the fanon! Could have added their own unique vision smh.

*scrolls*

Oh my god, finally! Finally, fanart of the ship I love so much! I've been- wait wait wait. Why Brador is wearing his beast hyde while Laurence is still alive? Brador's beast hyde is explicitly stated to be that of a Cleric Beast, and Laurence was the FIRST Cleric Beast! No yeah, beggars CAN be choosers. Ignored.

*scrolls*

Oh, good art- wait, why this character's eyes are blue? This character has grey eyes! But also this is such a rare character to draw... Fine. *reblogs but points out the eye color is wrong in the tags*

*scrolls*

Good art, but caption is hostile. No one wants to know that you hate this character under the art of this character. Ignored.

*scrolls*

Good art, reblogged.

*scrolls*

Very well done art, but her chest is not that big! In fact, she is boobless. Maybe next time.

*scrolls*

I want to reblog this fanart, but also despite doing so much work on detail and lighting, they forgot those cute accessories by each side of her big brooch! It could not be the laziness, it obviously was using other fanarts as the reference instead of actual ingame screenshots and model!

*scrolls*

Wh... what... oh my god... Oh my god this person drew the idea I suggested.... I've inspired someone? Oh God. Wait a second. Oh no. I need like a full week to articulate my emotions. Oh God I can't. I didn't just contribute something good in the fandom. Oh no *crying cat*

*scrolls*

I feel nothing for this ship, but this fandom is obnoxious when the female character without canon sexuality they've DECIDED is a lesbian is shipped with male character, so I will support this person. *reblogs*

*scrolls*

Good art, but they have this dumb DNI caption under their post. I don't even fit the criteria, I just don't want to carry the whole "panic about contact with ImPuRiTy" attitude with the drawing! When will people learn that some bad person liking their art is not the end of the world? 🤔

*scrolls*

Wow, good drawing!!! *the tags are the wall of passive aggression towards fans with "wrong" headcanons* Well now I am not reblogging it.

*scrolls*

Goddamit, Crow, I know you are desperate for at least any art of your blorbo, but why would you reblog something that is so careless? They clearly like what they could make out of character instead of actual character's appearance! You were just passionately approving of posts like "stop removing his wrinkles!" or "stop giving her huge honkers!" and now this? 🐓🐓🐓

*scrolls*

CROW YOU REBLOGGED VARGRAM ERASURE I THOUGHT YOU WERE BASED BUT YOU...... YOU ARE C R I N G E 🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

[tarithenurse]

I see fire - 18

Fandom: D&D 5E/homebrew campaign. Word count: 1877. Contents: Travelling, talks, combat, death, loss, dealing wiht death, visitors. A/N: Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag. Divider by @firefly-graphics

XVIII

The storm eventually subsides during the night, allowing the party to get some rest despite the still ongoing rain. So it’s into a wet but somewhat brighter day that the trio and their two friends set out. They still have days to go ahead of them but there is a feeling of relaxation: they will get there when they get there, there’s no use in rushing.

“What can we expect?” Zilvra asks Harris at some point as they walk side by side behind the cart.

He doesn’t look at her, but keeps an eye on the surroundings. “Of what?”

“The place.”

“It’s a graveyard.”

He isn’t joking either but describes a central standing tower surrounded by circles of ancient (and a few newer) graves. The tower is the oldest part of the arrangement, built next to a lake many years ago and has writing on it that even Harris with his knack for languages can’t translate. The Masons have settled there for various reasons and so they’ve added to the scenery by creating barracks and other needed constructions.

The others have been listening in to the conversation and now Anvindr voices a thought Zilvra also has had: if these are the Masons and their families who have fled, then it must be a lot of people.

“Yeah, it’s quite a few,” Harris vaguely agrees, “we used to be hosted by Silver Keep but Gavin found this place which allowed us to become truly independent. You see...it’s hidden.”

“Hidden?”

The man nods. “There’s a sort of dome around, creating an illusion that nothing’s there. Well except for a field and some trees and that kind of stuff.”

“And what of the people,” Anvindr asks, “any customs we should know of?”

“Nah, not really...but be prepared for some distrust. You’ll most likely be tested.”

Zilvra tries to catch his gaze but can’t. “What sort of test?”

“Combat abilities, knowledge, that sort of thing.” He sighs. “And presuming you pass you’ll most likely be given missions that take you to other places.”

Try as they might, the trio can’t wring more information from the Mason not even as they’ve settled for the night.

---

It’s another rainy day where the group is struggling to keep the mood up – even Zilvra who once found rain a novelty is starting to get enough of it. She likes the “after rain” where the moisture in the air enhances the scents of the nature around them but recently there hasn’t been so much “after” as opposed to just “during” which is less delightful when one has to walk for miles without proper shelter.

On top of that, the trio is on high alert because they’re getting closer to one of the marks that Morella hastily sketched when they were in the Clairvoyance Tower with #2. Asking Harris and Elmer, the men know nothing of the surrounding area, making it impossible to rule out mines or lakes which are the only kind of places the trio has any experience with where there could be “anomalies”.

But nothing happens.

That is, nothing happens until the next day where javelins comes sailing through the air, embedding themselves in the side of the cart and, unfortunately, in Elmer. Swearing, Harris draws two daggers simultaneously with Zilvra who pulls out her rapier and then the enemies are upon them.

Big for their usual size, several duergar comes rushing at the group.

As much as Zilvra wants to, she will never be able to look back on this battle fondly (if such a thing is possible at all) because she experiences very little of it: facing off with one of the foes, she only manages to wound it once before it bellows at her, causing an unnatural fear to settle deep in her soul and all she can do is run. Flee. It’s as though she’s not in control of her own body any longer even as she mentally screams at herself for abandoning her friends. She just runs. By the time the fear subsides and she can turn around, there are no battle noises to be heard anymore.

Pushing her way out of the underbrush, Zilvra finally gets the wagon in view again. There are Anvindr and Morella, standing close to the front of the wagon and both looking like they’ve taken a beating. There comes Harris from the right, looking grim and bloodied. Gone is the horse.

Slinking closer with guilt gnawing in her guts, Zilvra is just about to apologize when she sees what – or rather who – they’re all gathered around.

Elmer.

The pool of blood has stopped spreading by now as if to underline the fact that there’s nothing that can be done. It mixes with the mud on the road and is already washing off the side of the wagon where it had sprayed onto when the stroke of the axe severed the head from the body.

“He...” Zilvra finds it oddly hard to state the obvious but then she supposes it’s not really needed.

A strangled cry escapes Harris who has fallen to his knees next to his dead friend.

There are no words of consolation to be said, just a muted agreement that they can’t leave the fallen man behind and so they take what they have to wrap him in and load him onto the wagon.

“I’m sor-” Zilvra begins as she stands beside Harris.

“Don’t.” He is curt but there’s nothing malicious in his voice. “I heard what happened...don’t blame yourself.”

So she tries not to. Just takes his hand that hangs limply by his side and squeezes it gently. She can’t find it in her to ask how the battle went...she can see for herself that the enemy has fallen anyways and she understands how lucky they were that they haven’t suffered more casualties than Elmer.

“Well,” Morella tries to rouse them, “the wagon won’t pull itself.”

With those words she turns into a draft horse with a poof and positions herself in place of the real horse, ready to be hitched which is quickly done and so they set off again, unceremoniously.

“We’ve never...Elmer and I...” Harris has to swallow hard before he can continue, “we’ve never met duergar here.”

After a while, Harris starts analyzing the battle and the two of the trio who can currently talk chime in with their previous experiences with the duergar.

“How did you do it?” Anvindr tentatively asks Harris, causing the drow to be confused until he continues: “You made one of them lay down his weapons.”

The human nods with darkness in his eyes. “I told him to surrender, yes. It’s magic. I am not much of a fighter but my voice can be quite...commanding.” He catches the worried glance of the genasi. “Don’t worry, it’s not something I can do often so I save it for important situations.”

---

When Morella’s form reverts from that of the horse, they have to push the cart themselves. Unfortunately none of them are strong, resulting in groans and sweating and very little headway by the time they decide to call it a day and make camp.

It’s not even a good campsite but at least Anvindr creates some makeshift shelters for the group where they can huddle up, the two females sharing one lean-to and the males sharing the other.

Everyone is dead tired and it isn’t long before Zilvra is the only one awake.

She hears the sniffing before any kind of rustling of leaves or shrubbery. It comes from over by the cart where the supplies for the Masons are and the corpse of Elmer is wrapped up. Getting to her feet, she spots the dark shape of a large wolf-like creature.

“No! Go away!” she whisper-shouts at it, willing a globule of light to appear near it to scare it off.

Two things happens at once: the wolf rises to stand on its hind legs, and Morella wakes. Immediately, the druid spots the intruder and how Zilvra is aiming her crossbow at it to fire.

“Don’t!” the eladrin hisses, throwing herself in between, “it’s a friend, a worgen.”

Not entirely convinced of what to expect, Zilvra does lower her weapon a bit but doesn’t take the eyes of the beast who gingerly nears the campsite. Somehow, Harris and Anvindr are still asleep and the drow has half a mind to wake them up but Morella is so calm so she decides to trust her friend.

“It reeks of death,” the worgen growls softly, “here...and further down the road.”

“We had a run-in with some duergar,” Morella admits.

The creature nods, shooting a glance at Zilvra who finally tugs the weapon away. “We found the bodies...they are rare in these parts of the forest.”

Perhaps the females would have asked who “we” are but it becomes obsolete as two more worgen appear.

They are all huge, taller than a human when standing upright, with long limbs and ragged leather loincloths. Jewellery of bones, teeth, and stones adorn them to a certain extend though not as much as to be impractical in battle. All of them are covered in mottled grey fur but the speaker has a dash of brown in it.

“Here,” the eladrin offers, holding out her hands forming a bowl and in them appears a bunch of gleaming red berries, goodberries, “it’ll fill your stomachs even if it doesn’t look like much.”

The worgen take the berries, seemingly satisfied with the offering as they smile toothily.

“You said – sorry for shooing you, by the way,” Zilvra begins, “but you said it’s rare with duergar here?”

“Yes...there aren’t many mines or caves in this region,” the first worgen explains.

One of the others shakes its head. “It’s the prophecy.”

“Shh.”

“No! It’s coming true and it’s her fault,” it points to Morella.

There is a moment of badly hidden rage (bristling furs communicate a lot) where all three worgen look to the eladrin.

“I’m...I don’t know of a prophecy so I’m sorry but don’t get mad at me!” the druid defends herself. “I have very few memories of my past but I know I don’t want to hurt people randomly.”

The worgen look to each other, their fur settling again as they come to some unspoken conclusion. Then the first one steps closer, lowering itself to the elf’s height and stares right into the colourful female’s face.

“You need guidance. There’s a ritual my kin can help you with.”

“Will it make me remember better?”

“Perhaps.”

The two girls share a brief glance and Zilvra knows what’s coming before her friend answers the beast.

“What do I need to do?”

“You are going to the tower...three days east of there we’ll find you when you’re ready.” The two other worgen begin to slink away quietly but their leader remains a moment longer to say: “We’ll watch over you until then. Hidden, but nearby.”

“Thank you,” Morella genuinely smiles, “I’ll make sure there are snacks for you each night then.”

The worgen had already turned to leave but pauses to look at her bemused, a crooked smile showing off some of the teeth. Then it vanishes into the darkness.

“Woah...” is all Zilvra really can muster as she extinguishes her light.

[pawseds]

God this sketch is so funny to me. These two are my PC/NPC duo for Delta Green, a lovecraftian horror TTRPG known to have a VERY high death rate. Finan's (glasses) whole thing was that Claretta disappeared and he keeps searching for clues, believing there's more than meets the eye, right?

I drew this when the game was still ongoing and everything was uncertain (I expected the worst possible end for them/at least one of them to die, because Delta Green), and the caption I wrote back then for this sketch on Instagram is now SO FUNNY

I may say that I'm ok with Finan and/or Claretta dying in the current Delta Green game I'm playing because it'll be interesting, but I'll be lying if I said it wouldn't CRUSH me. Like man initially I thought Claretta (she's an npc from Finan's backstory who I said went missing before their wedding) was either dead or some transformed creature who will be dead, but nah she was alive this whole time and is part of the organisation actively trying to kill our party. You bet that was on my mind for days. Anyway, I decided to draw the two of them if they hypothetically survived and was somehow still able to have a life together even though Claretta is legally dead, because I like making myself sad. (And you get two versions because I'm indecisive as hell)

(The funniest part is how I'm now the GM/Handler catalysing this effect for one of my players) (you guys should check @katastrofish out, tag irrelavent)

[vegalocity]

oc game

So i got re-tagged by @unseelie-robynx to talk more about one of our other homebrew'd lmk next gen but several centuries later' characters (also i'm not re-tagging cuz there should be SOME surprises in this AU sequel lmao)

Da Rules (Copy and pate 'em!)

You and hopefully one of your OCs have been tagged! Your job is to make a post about them, and it can be whatever you want! Talk about general information, their backstory, their design inspiration, post some sketches or older art, write up a few fun facts, as long as it's something!

When you're done, be sure to pass it along by tagging at least one other person and their OC (you can tag as many people as you want though!) Tag backs are allowed and encouraged.

When you tag someone, try to specify an OC, even if you don't know who they are yet (i.e. "You should do that OC with the butterfly wings you posted the other day!" or "Do the OC you drew most recently!")

Participation is not required, but even if you don't want to, it'd be great to pass the tag along to someone else!

So as promised here's our currently unnamed Bestie Character of the Lost Princess AU

Now her story is much less complicated in describing how she got here, very simply, there are forms of magical conception available to Yaoguai, and long and short of it- she's a Cyberhunt kid.

So basically after Huntsman had gotten his brain back after being the Rebellion Martyr when his sting in mind-jail was abruptly ended by Syntax going 'nah fuck this' and saving him maybe before what would have been considered a safe time to do so, the two grew closer until ultimately getting together.

And since for magical 'a fertility goddess decided she likes them' reasons she basically said 'so spiders have REALLY HIGH infancy mortality rates for some sort of glitch in biology, but i'm a fertility goddess so fuck that y'all can have as many kids as you want'

so they had a BUNCH

And Ya Girl Here is one of the younger ones (the spider brood are many in number but for the most part mature at a rate relative to humans and then just clip to spider aging once they hit their prime so it's p. easy to sort of just, make it a steady clip) and is very much her fathers' daughter. Quite adept at magitech as it's developed over the years, she's the resident know-how in the group.

her weapon of choice is a sort of 'kinda a kusarigama' type thing where she'll take bladed weapons and then attach them to lines of spider silk to turn into ranged weapons. it's fun.

She met Zhenjun in college when they both ended up in the Cheer Team (yes the hero group is a bunch of cheerleaders) and is the single braincell of the group

[n3kk1tty]

I'm gonna start branching out the content I post specifically my sketches and art because I have a lot of fandoms I love that I wanna make content for. I'm not stopping my lost boys shenanigans but just doing some healthy diversity. But going with that should I change my Masterlist format like is it hard to follow?

Also the little voices in my head telling me to draw more fan service type stuff. I love doing requests and I'd love to get more. But with that said please don't spam tag me or fill my ask box with chain tagging spam. It makes me genuinely uncomfortable and sad because I want actual asks / requests from people who just genuinely want their OC's drawn or concepts. I don't get many of them and having a notification for a ask just for it to be one of those ones were it's like " tag so and so many followers" it makes me upset.

I do not enjoy spam tagging and I don't like participating in it I am introverted and don't like bothering others with spam. Please and thank you

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

how fast and how messy can I draw ashla, my red-skinned beauty

[katchihe]

And if you destroy another forest, I'll destroy you.

Based on here. Always keep a cool head, kiddos! Also Yellow tf is that strength?

[kkolg]

Should I make a Fluffy Guys side blog?

So it seems you guys like the little guys and have gotten quite a bit of asks for them already, however I don’t want them to take this blog over so I was thinking I might make a side blog for them

Disclaimer: I probably won’t focus as much time on it as this one so posts will be far between (most likely twice a week or smth) they don’t have as much of a deep storyline as the guys over here and I want to put more of my efforts into the “vigilante au” instead of theirs. I’ll probably still use my art tag with them along with posting good art of them here, but any asks or little sketch comics will probably stay there.

I’ll answer the last questions here but if there’s a side blog then I’ll answer them there from now on

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Twenty-Two

Seven Days -  Modern Tolkien AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

A/N - I want to apologize for the slow updates, I haven’t been in a great headspace to write, and with the semester starting this week, my free time is going to be at a premium, so updates may be even slower. Thanks so much for your patience…

Summary: Syd gives Frerin an answer about living together…

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, Alanis Durin 

Warnings: Oral sex (m/f receiving) unprotected sex, some fluff

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,140

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

Syd’s eyes glittered like aquamarines in the light cast by kitchen fixture as she gazed up at him. She was tiny compared to him, and he knew for a fact he could lift her as easily as he did his nephews. And as she gazed up at him, it did the oddest thing to him, sent butterflies going crazy deep inside him, the same way he felt as a kid, when puberty hit and his hormones went wild. Only now, there was nothing to stop him from tugging her against him, wrapping her in his arms, savoring the feel of her full, firm breasts against his chest, the equally firm mounds of her ass in his hands. Now, he could do all the things he’d once fantasized about doing with her. She haunted his dreams as a teenager, and now, she was his reality. 

“You’re staring at me,” she whispered to shatter the thickening silence.

“Syd, do you know how often I thought about this?” As he spoke, he reached out to trail his fingertips along her cheek. Her skin was so soft, it practically begged to be touched and he found himself powerless to resist the urge. “And it didn't even come close to what it’s like to be with you.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He grinned. “Nah. I had an image to protect. But, not with you. I don't have to worry about that any more.” He brought his free hand up and cradled her face between his palms and added in a whisper, “I love you.”

Her eyes softened. “I love you, too.”

“I like how that sounds.” He bent to her, capturing her soft lips in an equally soft kiss that fired his blood and spurred his lust. He didn't want to rush with her, didn’t want to just rip her clothes off and pounce on her. Well, actually, he did, but at the same time, he didn’t. Instead, he tilted her face to his and bent to press a gentle kiss against her lips. He savored the lush softness of her lips, the way they parted slowly and just the tip of her tongue brushed his bottom lip, almost shyly. That was how she kissed—shyly, almost hesitant, as if afraid to overstep or seem too aggressive.

She should only know there was no such thing as far as he was concerned. Not for her. He wanted her to know she could explore him to her heart’s content—his mouth, his body, he didn't care. He reveled in the sensations she sparked to life, that she sent coursing through his body. His blood warmed so slowly as her tongue swept along his, and when she drew it back into her mouth, he had to fight back a sigh as the heat in his blood became fire. 

Her fingers swept down along his sides, her hands coming to rest on his hips, heat from her touch sinking into him. He almost ached for her touch against his bare skin, against his nipples, his cock, anywhere and everywhere she could possible touch, stroke, caress. 

She tugged his black long-sleeved tee shirt from the waist of his jeans and when her fingers slid beneath it to sweep along his bare back, he shivered against her. She did it again, this time letting her fingernails trace down the same path, and when she brushed just beneath the waist of his jeans, he moaned softly into her mouth. He couldn't help it. He had no idea how sensitive that bit of skin actually was until just then. Women were perfectly satisfied to let him explore them, they seldom took the time to return the favor with the exception of reaching into his jeans to wrap a hand about his cock for a few seconds.

But Syd took her time. Her fingernails scratched down. Then up. In slow, lazy strokes, and he shivered again as his skin tightened into goosebumps. Shivered and broke his kiss to sweep his lips along her chin and down her throat. Her pulse beat fast beneath his lips, her fingers dug deeper into his skin, her whispered, “Frerin…” was a caress of its own. 

A hint of jasmine and vanilla teased his nose. Her scent, both bottled and personal, combined to tease him, to make his head spin as he gripped the bottom of her sweater to slide it up, over her ribs, to lift it past those perfect, full breasts, to tug it over her head. Her hair, that glorious mass of thick, dark red silk, brushed his hands as he freed her from the sweater and when she looked up at him and smiled, in that moment, he’d have given her anything she asked for, no matter what. He’d have done anything for her, no matter what.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, letting his hands come to rest on her shoulders, his thumbs hooking in her dark green satiny bra straps. Gently, he eased them over her shoulders,  then reached around and with a single pinch, unhooked her bra. As the fabric fell away, he drew back to let his eyes feast on her, on the way her nipples tightened into enticing little pebbles, the way her pulse beat faster still even as she held his gaze with those beautiful eyes, the way she didn't try to suck in her belly to make it seem perfectly flat. She didn't have to. He loved the slight soft curve of it. He loved everything about her and he wanted to make damn sure she knew it.

He bent to her once more, brushing a kiss along her collarbone, smiling against the inner curve of her right breast as he swept a kiss along that curve and her fingers slipped into his hair while her breath hitched. Her fingers twisted. Tightened. Held on as he moved toward that beaded nipple. 

“Oh!” Her soft moan rose into the air as he closed his lips about the bead, as he swirled the tip of his tongue around it, the flat of it over it. It pebbled even more, and when he teasingly nipped it, she shivered against him this time. Her back bowed, offering that breast to him, demanding his attention, which he was more than happy to give. He gave a gentle pull on it, biting back a smile at her soft, hitching breath, and his own breath caught as she tugged on his hair in response. The sharp, sudden sting across his scalp made him shiver against her, fired his own desire further. 

Another slow pass and he let that nipple slip from his mouth, shifted to press a kiss into the shadow between those perfect breasts. He swept another one along her breastbone, smiling as she whispered, “Frerin…” even as her fingers loosened in his hair to let him move lower. 

He crouched before her, peppering teasing kisses along her belly, smiling as he reached that slight roundness. Christ, she had no idea how perfect she really was, and he had no words to adequately convey it. Instead, he shifted to his knees, and looked up at her and smiled as he eased the button of her jeans through its hole, then tugged the zipper down. 

Her eyes grew heavy lidded, holding his stare with a smoldering one of her own as he tugged her jeans down, her hand coming to curve against his cheek, her fingernails just dancing across his skin. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted her left foot with one hand to tug the cuff of her jeans over it and swept them from first her left leg, then her right. A shy smile lifted her lips as he swept his fingertips along the backs of her legs—over her calves, behind her knees, along her thighs, and finally, over her backside. 

He drank in the sight of her, her black lace thong the only thing between his lips and her mound and those hints of jasmine grew stronger as he leaned in and brushed a light kiss along the soft skin just above that lacy border. Holding her gaze, he hooked his index fingers in the soft lace and slipped it over her hips, down her thighs, and let her thong crumple at her feet. 

The jasmine scent grew stronger as he leaned in and nuzzled the dark auburn thatch between her thighs. Her hands found their way back into his hair, twisting as he slowly slid his tongue into those curls for a slow, leisurely pass. Her hips moved slightly, arching to meet his caress. And the next. And the one that followed. 

He took his time with her, savored the spicy-silken taste of her, the way her breath quickened and her body moved against him. She grew slick and sweet beneath his tongue, his name a breathless whisper on her lips as she trembled against him, as she grew wetter still. He traced a gentle circle around the swollen bead nestled in those lush curls, swept over it with the flat of his tongue, took his time to explore every inch of her silky, damp flesh. She moved against him, pleading softly for him to shove her over the edge.

He would. In time. 

But for now, he wanted to tease her. Wanted to make her ache for him. Wanted to feel how she desired him, how she wanted him. Wanted her to feel every single iota of pleasure he could give her. He trailed his fingers along her inner thigh, smiling as she jerked back and breathed, “Oh, my God… Frerin…”

He eased those fingers into her heat, teasing her, torturing her in the most sensual way he could. She gasped as he slid one finger inside her, crooked it, found that spongy swelling along her front wall, honed in on it and stroked. 

“Frerin!” She shattered, throbbing and tensing all around him, and he savored every last moment of it—every last breathless cry, every last pulse of her body around him, the sweetness of her released lingered on his tongue, tortured his own senses as he ached with the need to bury himself deep inside her and thrust until they exploded together. He wanted to feel her come with him inside her, to feel those pulsations squeezing him, dragging him out to sea with her. 

He drew out her orgasm until she shivered against him, her voice husky and raw as she pleaded with him for mercy, as her knees buckled and she breathed, “No more… oh… please…”

She collapsed into his arms, her lips hot and furious as they found his and devoured them, as she pushed him down onto the carpet right there in the living room and tugged open his belt, yanked open the fly of his Levi’s, tugged down the waistband of his boxer briefs, bent over him and—

“Syd!” He couldn't hold back as her lips closed about him and she pulled him deep. Fire enveloped him, twisted and ribboned its way through him as she brought him so close to the edge of insanity, then pulled him free, shifted to straddle him and—

“Oooh….” His moan echoed around them as she positioned him and came down hard onto him. He caught her by the hips, his fingers biting into her as he moved her faster against him, as he arched deep into her. White lights danced before his eyes. His blood scorched through his veins. His orgasm spiraled through him with the power and intensity of a gale force wind. Syd threw her head back, her fingernails digging into his chest as she tightened about him, as she quivered and pulsed and cried out his name.

The wave crashed into them. He slammed her hard against him, arching to thrust as deeply as he could as he came in a blinding flash of desire and lust and need. She came with him, squeezing, rocking against him as her body throbbed all around his.

And as fast and furious as it hit, the wave receded to leave peace in its wake. Syd collapsed against him, fighting to drag air into her lungs, her head coming to rest on his chest. He wrapped his arms about her, cradled her against him, also battle to breathe even as he gritted, “Oh, holy fuck… oh, Christ, Syd… oh, holy fucking shit…” and let his eyes close as the dizziness worsened and he thought there was a very real possibility he was going to pass out. 

Little by little, each went quiet. His head slowed, the spinning ebbed. His blood cooled and slowed, his heart no longer raced. Peace settled over them as he drew in a deep breath and whispered, “I love you…”

“Mmmm…” her lips brushed across his chest, “I love you, too.”

He smiled into the thickening darkness, letting his fingers skim along her silky hair as she lay against him. He didn't want to move. Quite possibly ever. He let his eyes close, just savored the feel of her, in his arms, all around him.

Her breath danced gently along his neck, and he couldn’t hold back his sigh when she swept a feathery kiss up toward his ear. He smiled into the darkness. “I think I have a rug burn on my ass.”

“I’ll kiss it and make it better.” She lifted her head, scooping a handful of hair to toss out of her face. 

“I like how that sounds.”

“I though you might.” 

She shifted and he winced as he slipped from her warmth. She was naked but he remained completely dressed—only his jeans were open and hastily moved out of her way���and he grinned. “Damn, honey, you didn't waste any time.”

“I couldn't help it,” she confessed with a hint of a sheepish smile. “I just had to have you, Frerin.”

“You won’t hear me complain about that ever.” 

“Somehow, I didn't think so.”

She lifted her head and looked so utterly disheveled and so thoroughly manhandled that he knew he’d never seen a more beautiful woman before. Curving his hand against her cheek, he whispered, “I’m a lucky guy, Syd. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” She winked and slowly climbed off him. Smiling at him over one shoulder as she padded toward the kitchen, she added, “But I’m a pretty lucky girl, so I think that makes us even.”

He smiled, drinking in the sight of her perfect body silhouetted by the kitchen lights, and then let his head thunk softly into the carpet once more. Somehow, he thought he had the better end of the deal. 

Syd let her eyes close as she curved against Frerin’s body, her arm draped over his hips. ESPN played softly on the television, the bluish glow from the set the only light in the room. Riley was curled up in her bed, fast asleep. She thought Frerin might have fallen asleep as well, and that was just fine with her. He earned a solid night’s sleep after everything and as she lay there, she shifted just enough to peer up at him. His eyes were closed, his thick black lashes crescents against his skin. The low light from the television softened his features, sleep took away years and stress and he once more resembled the Frerin she’d gone home with in August, the one who oozed confidence and charm and knew he could go home with any woman he wanted at any time.

But, she’d seen no sign of that Frerin in his words or actions since he’d come into the shop the week before. There was no sign of the confidence that bordered on arrogance, or that sense of entitlement. She believed him when he said he loved her. 

She believed him when he said he wanted to marry her.

“What’s wrong, Syd?” His whisper startled her, although he didn't open his eyes.

“N-nothing. I thought you were asleep.”

Now his eyes opened. “Are you hexing me?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don't know… you’re staring so…”

“You’re different from how you were in August.”

The sheets rustled softly as he shifted onto his side to face her. “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s neither good nor bad, it’s just… different. The Frerin I knew in August was kind of an arrogant prick, but the one here now is the exact opposite.”

“Dying will do that to you,” he replied softly with a hint of a shrug. “It also opens your eyes real quick to what you want and what you’ve been settling for.”

“And a different girl every night is settling?”

He propped his head on his fist, his expression far more serious than she’d ever seen. “Yeah, it is. I like this—” he gestured between them—“this is what’s important, Syd. Lying here, like this, talking, is what’s important. I mean, sex is great with you, but so is this. So is feeling you fall asleep against me. So is when I wake up and you’re lying here next to me still sound asleep. It all blows everything else away. It’s the little things like this that make you realize what life is, that made me realize what was missing from my life.”

“And now you know what you want.”

“And now I know what I want.” A slow smile lifted his lips. “You. In this bed. Every night for the rest of my life.”

As he spoke, he shifted to ease over her, bracing himself on his forearms as he loomed over her. “And you never did answer me.”

“About moving in with you?”

He nodded, his St. Florian medallion spinning to throw off flashes of blue light. “I like the idea of having a never-ending sleepover with you, Syd. And maybe that’s how I’ll convince you to marry me.”

“Or we could just live in sin forever.”

“We could, but,” he winked, “is that even a thing any more?” 

“Gram probably thinks so.”

“Sin is fun. And we do it pretty well, you know.”

She smiled up at him, slipping her arms about his waist to let her fingernails trail along his back. There was something so heady about watching the effect that had on him, as he shivered slightly and his eyes grew heavy-lidded and sleepy. “We do, don't we?”

“And think of all the sin we could get into, honey,” he murmured, dipping toward her to let his lips just brush hers. “Just you and me and our imaginations?”

“That does sound promising.”

“So, what do you say? Let’s live in sin together, Syd.”

“I think that can be arranged, Frerin.”

His eyes danced with mischief as he said, “Good,” and bent to kiss her once more. 

[stardomtrash]

Well a THING happened!

So I mean...... que???? XD

I’d like to be able to put all the responses from Twitter I can find, but taking screenshots with the Google Translate translation is sketch at best, so I’m going to write out the threads using translations from DeepL and link to the real tweets

I totally missed posting this last time it did that rounds but now this seems CLEARLY FUCKING RELEVENT

Maika: Seriously, one second before kissing. (Not allowed)

Syuri: Ah! It's Himeka who drew me in.

AND THEN WE HAVE TODAY. I’ll try and separate them into threads but ghdkfj

Himeka: 4.29 will not only take away your lips, but also that red belt that you value more than your lips

.

Maika: HIMAKA! Aaarghhh!

.

Syuri: Himeka Thanks for the food 29 April. In return. I'll make it a day you'll never forget.

Himeka: Only one piece of advice You should at least close your eyes when someone kisses you ♡

.

Ruaka: Ugh, I can't do it, I'm seriously ill, I can't do it anymore.

.

Utami: Oh.... I see...

Maika: Eh... what emotion are you feeling?

Utami: I feel... Surprised...

STARDOM then posted the Syuri/Utami kiss with whatever tf the monocle emoji means

Syuri: Ooh-ooh-ooh! Officials have pulled it out!

This has to be done by screenshot cos XD

Syuri: Whoa! There it is!

Utami: You're now familiar both doing and receiving...

.

Maika: My heart palpitates aaaaah! I don't like it aaaaaaahhhhhh! Aaaaahhhh!

Saya: Relax, Maika

Maika: I don't want to hear it from you, who's basically just a screamer!

Saya: Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I'm not the only one. My tag team partner... Utami lost her lips to Syuri. I went crazy at that time. I fully understand how you feel.

Maika: We're the ones who took it. The wounds are different. ！！！！ I mean, why should I be comforted by you? Maybe you... You're the one who took my fragile heart and...

Saya: Huh? No fantasising!!! 🙄 Because of your partner's cheating. The white belt title match. I'm not sure if it'll affect the title match for the white belt. Until Fukuoka - at best. I hope you have a weak heart. No. Or do you want me to wake you up?

Maika: We've already made up 🤪. I'm so sorry! You want me to wake up? Which side of your mouth are you talking from? A lot of masochists tend to act tough 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

Saya: HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You're forgiving her in such a short time? How soft can Maika be? She's rolling in the palm of her hand! LOL! Wow... I thought you wanted me. 😐

Maika: I just believe in my precious partner. Nah... Maybe you were hoping? I wonder which one of us wants it.