#I stumbled upon this on google and it made me so happy

[corviddrawsstuff]

Jimmy Solidarity stimming gif. Reblog if agree

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

So,

What a wild ride, everybody.

This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.

I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:

Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.

At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.

I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)

If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.

There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.

But until next time, it’s been amazing.

Sayonara you weeaboo shits.

[cj-schlatt]

Rewind

Pairing: Schlatt x gn!reader (no pronouns, no use of y/n)

Word Count: ~780

Summary: What do you get as a gift for someone who has it all?

Content: Fluff, pet names (angel). Schlatt and reader are childhood best friends who recently reconnected :)

A/N: Hi! This is my first attempt at writing for Schlatt. Let me know how I did! :)

You’ve been stressing ever since you flipped the calendar page over this morning. Your first anniversary with Schlatt is this month, the date marked with a heart, and you have no idea what you’re going to get him.

What do you get as a gift for someone who has it all?

You’re in your parents’ attic, helping them to clean it up a bit, when you find the answer to your dilemma.

You come across an unmarked cardboard box, which by itself isn’t unusual; you’ve already sorted through a dozen just like it. What makes it special is what you find inside—it’s filled with VHS-C tapes from your family’s old camcorder. You’ve just stumbled upon a treasure trove of memories.

You know for a fact that there is footage of Schlatt within these tapes, from birthday celebrations to stupid “movies” the two of you made together. As you pick up a tape, labeled with both of your names and the date it was captured, you start to form a plan.

Your childhood bedroom is exactly as you left it when you moved out, down to the old CRT TV and combination VHS and DVD player. After some quick Googling, you’re turning on the TV and popping the first tape, along with a blank DVD, into the player.

Static. Then, a picture comes into view: a grainy scene of a much younger version of you in front of a birthday cake, Schlatt right at your side as he and the rest of the party-goers sing “Happy Birthday” and you blow out the candles. You can’t help but smile at the display.

The video continues, showing you tearing into your birthday presents (with Schlatt right there to help you, of course). You’re transported back to that day, long forgotten until now, where you almost had more fun playing with the wrapping paper and tissue paper than the actual presents you received.

Soon, the first tape ends. If all went well, it should be copied onto the DVD now. You stay up well into the night converting tapes, too excited revisiting old memories to want to continue later.

The next day, phase two of your plan begins, with you uploading the new DVDs to your computer and putting your video editing skills to the test. You’re grinning like an idiot when it’s finally done.

You just hope Schlatt will like it.

You’re pretty sure he will.

It’s a few weeks later when the big day finally arrives. You can’t even count how many times you’ve had to hold yourself back from giving him his gift early, so excited to see his reaction.

You’re practically vibrating when you lead him to the living room and turn the TV on.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, plopping down on the couch.

“You’ll see,” you say, smiling as you connect your laptop to the TV.

You watch with him as little you and Schlatt are projected onto the big screen. You join him on the couch, listening to your younger self introduce your imagined audience to what the two of you creatively titled “The Dumb Idiots Show.”

You glance over at Schlatt, who is completely glued to the TV. You think you see that his eyes are glistening a little, reflecting the light of the screen, but you don’t say anything, just let the video continue.

The video came out pretty damn good, if you do say so yourself. It had been so much fun reliving these memories, and it’s even better now that you get to share them with your best friend, the one who was with you for all of it.

Eventually, the screen fades to black, and the room falls silent.

“Wow,” is the first thing Schlatt says. He leans back into the couch, running a hand through his hair.

“Did you like it?” you ask, not quite able to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

“Are you kidding?” he asks, voice tinged with disbelief. “I loved it.”

“Really?”

“Really, angel,” he says, pulling you in for a hug.

You sink into the embrace, relief flooding through you.

“I’m impressed,” he says when you part.

“Hmm?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with video-making skills around here.”

You grin at him. “I mean, did you see my camera work on episode two of ‘The Dumb Idiots Show?’ I’ve always had a knack for it.”

He laughs. “You oughta start your own channel.”

“Maybe I will,” you say with a little smirk. After a moment, your face softens. “Happy anniversary, J.”

“Happy anniversary,” he echoes, a lovesick smile on his own face as he leans in to kiss you.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)

[literaila]

winter blues 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

"why are you here?"

"why are you ignoring my calls?"

warnings: seasonal depression (unmentioned but that’s what it is), comfort, avoidance, fluff, peter is nice (mostly) 

a/n: this is so random and so terrible but my computer doesn’t deserve to have this banished away. happy winter!!!! 

*

if you're in a mood--which you're not--then it is perfectly rational. 

and if you've been hanging up the phone, slamming doors, and throwing random objects around your room for the past couple of days--all done as some sort of ritual, of course, a method of which to maintain control--then it's fine. 

your room is a mess and there are more worthwhile, productive things to be done. 

which is probably why you aren't speaking to anyone. 

or, rather, effectively ignoring anyone who even attempts to get a word out toward you. 

when someone knocks on the door you duck under the covers, sure that your presence can't be detected with an extra layer of cotton protecting your body heat. 

when someone texts you, you simply pretend that your phone has died--despite the fifty apps you've got open and the lonely google tab, awaiting curiosity that escaped you weeks ago. 

when you go outside it's with your eyes tilted toward the ground, staring at cement like it's a newfound fascination. 

so, maybe you've fallen victim to the winter blues. maybe you've been consistently listening to one playlist entitled "don't listen to this, you loser," and not really listening at all. 

maybe you've been avoiding this actualization--being that you'd prefer to live in your own disgust rather than face it, thank you very much. 

and maybe, as you consider these missteps, you've got your face smothered into a pillow. 

you do not consider how long it might take you to fall asleep. 

*

there's a knock on your door. 

it is sullen and soft and all too loud for this time of day. four in the afternoon is made for napping, and you have made yourself into someone who no longer answers the door. 

you roll over on the couch, waiting for evading footsteps. 

you are met with only kind silence. 

and then a voice: 

"i know you're in there," he says. "and i know that you can hear me." 

peter knows nothing. 

you have made a point of that. 

you throw your head back, imitating a groan, and wonder how many minutes you'll have to sit through this before he gives up. 

you ridicule yourself as soon as the thought comes; when has peter ever given up on anything? 

"i'm not leaving," he echoes. "i'll knock on mrs. garrison's door and ask for a folding chair." 

you have been avoiding him for the past week. you have been thinking that if he sees you--even just once--he’ll know that something is wrong. that he’ll ask and you’ll have to tell. that he’ll bring up the one thing you’re trying to avoid. 

two things, you guess. 

and because you are sure that peter will make good on his threat, and also because you feel a pin-prick of guilt, you get up off of the couch. you curse your raggedy bones. 

try and recall when you last stood and how long you'll be able to stay standing. 

you go to the door, opening it with a glare. 

"peter," you say, dryly. your voice is rotted with its misuse. 

he simply smiles. "can i come in?" 

"why are you here?" 

"why are you ignoring my calls?" peter challenges, ducking under your arm to walk into your apartment without invitation. 

you try not to wince at everything he might stumble upon. 

like candy wrappers and water bottles and papers that you've crumbled until they're illegible, and others that you've folded into paper airplanes. 

socks and sweaters you've thrown around. a blanket that has served as both a preserver of heat and a tissue. 

dishes everywhere because, coincidently, you've recently forgotten how to use your dishwasher. 

"woah," peter blows out a breath. he turns back to you with raised eyebrows, smile somewhat fallen. 

you frown even deeper and cross your arms. "i'm not ignoring your calls. my phone died." 

peter stares at you. he leans over to grab your phone off of the couch--you'd forgotten it was there--and presses the power button. 

you both watch as it comes to life. it scolds you with notifications. 

"my ringer is off." 

peter just sighs and tosses it back in its forever place. "what's going on?" he asks, softer now, like his knock. 

you stare at his face and wonder again why he's here. why you even bothered answering the door. 

and then his brown lulls you into the earth, where you have no inhibitors. 

you rub a hand over your eyes. "it's just been a long week," you say because at least it's not a lie. 

"did something happen?" 

you shake your head. 

"are you feeling alright?" 

you nod. 

when you look up peter is closer. he is offering you something kind with his face. 

you want to wipe it off and slam the door in his face. 

"hey," he says, whispering to only you. "i missed you. i wanted to make sure you were okay." 

"well, thanks for checking in," you reply, grabbing his arm so you can pull him toward the door. 

peter laughs. "not so fast." he stops both of you with a foot on the floor. 

you scowl at him. 

"it's been a week since i've seen you," peter chides, like you're a child who's forgotten. "i'd like to have an actual conversation." 

you shake his hand off of you. "we're having a conversation." 

"you haven't even asked me about my week." 

you sigh. "okay." you pause for a moment, waiting for him to break. "how was your week, peter?" 

"long," he answers, quickly. "thanks for asking." 

you let a chuckle fall from dry lips. 

he takes another step closer. 

you're used to peter's hands on you--because they almost always are, especially when it's this cold outside and he likes to use you as an excuse--but it feels like more than just touching now. 

when he tilts your chin up with his hands, observing your eyes, you swear that he's actually probing you. 

that if he's the scientist, you are the lab rat being subdued to whatever experiment he's working on. 

"you look tired," he whispers, fingers tracing over sinkhole under eyes. 

"i am." 

peter bites his lip, eyes searching. "are you having trouble sleeping?" 

you can barely shake your head in his hands, but you attempt to anyway. 

peter swallows. "are you sick?" 

"no, peter. i'm okay."

he tilts his head. "you're tired. when was the last time you ate?" he asks. "or took a shower?" 

"i ate this morning." 

peter stares at you. he pokes your side with his iris'. 

"...i think." 

"baby," peter throws his head back. he plays it off as teasing, but you know that he's serious. "you can't just--" 

"i've been sleeping all day," you excuse. "i was gonna eat right before you came over." 

peter gives you another blank stare. 

you sigh at him, refusing to lie any further. 

at least he's fun to look at, you think. at least you're not completely irritated with him. 

"can i make you something instead?" peter asks, playing along. "you can go lay down and i'll bring it to you." 

your brows furrow. "you didn't come over to take care of me." 

"i did, actually. and to make sure that aliens hadn't gotten to you." 

"it's okay. you should tell me about your week," you attempt to put on a smile. "i'll listen real hard." 

"i will," peter promises. "but i want to make sure that you're okay first. you look..." peter shrugs. 

"terrible?" 

he laughs, just a little. brushes some hair from your eyes. "beautiful, obviously. just sad." 

your eyes close involuntarily. something in your chest comes back to life, unwanted and unwarranted. 

you should be able to handle peter saying nice things without wanting to cry. 

and you should be answering your phone and the door without any sort of hesitation. 

peter shakes his head like he can tell what you're thinking. "don't think so hard," he says. "what do you have in the fridge?" 

he gives you another smile. one that is so desperate and pleasing that you almost flinch. 

peter has molded under your darkened fingertips. 

he is shifting, just for you. and despite whatever denial you might feel, you're aware that you've been keeping him at a distance to avoid just that. 

he grabs your hand, pulling you toward the kitchen. he knows his way around. "let's go look. but you have to have more than a carton of ice cream because last time--" 

"peter," you whisper, pulling his hand back. 

he pauses. looks down at you. "hmm?" 

"will you--" you swallow. let the guilt fill your mouth. "will you--can you hug me? for just a little bit? i don't, um, i don't--" 

peter is quick to stop you. 

to wrap his strong arms around your back, cradling your head right against his shoulder. he lets you nuzzle into his neck, lets you grab onto his shoulders, and play with the hair on the base of his neck. 

he wraps you in comfort and warmth. 

like a present, he's wrapped you with care. he tells you that you can open it and look whenever you're ready. he whispers little things in your ear, about the things you've missed. 

he's gifted you this much. 

he loves you, he promises. 

and if you'll open the door for anyone, it's peter. 

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom

[anjelicawrites]

The perfect stay at home husband

Paring: Billy Washington x reader

Synopsis: slowly Billy learns to become the perfect house husband and welcomes his spouse home in the best of ways.

Warnings: dom / sub vibes, kissing, crying, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, collar and leash usage, Billy being very needy, ‘pup’ used a pet name, f masturbation with a rabbit vibrator.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!

Your life with Billy didn’t start in the best of ways. Indeed, the fact that he was jobless didn’t help his mental health; that the job market was, and still is, a nightmare for someone without big credentials like his, was another nail in that specific coffin. To you it wasn’t an issue, you didn’t think any less of him because of this, temporary, condition and you were more than happy to provide for the two of you, your job paying you well enough for the feat; if only Billy pulled his weight at home!

You had told Lana repeatedly that their parents didn’t do a good job at making sure Billy was capable of taking care of himself, he mostly left the bulk of the housework to you and would look at you with his baby blue opened wide, telling you he didn’t realize that those chores needed to be carried out.

One Friday you literally exploded at him, screaming that he wasn’t a guest in the house and that you were sick and tired of picking up his slack! You didn’t even give him the chance to explain himself, you left slamming the door and went to your friend’s house to spend the night, getting absolutely hammered in the process. 

Billy came to pick you up in the morning, his head more hidden between his shoulders than usual, the judging glares of your friend didn’t help his already crumbling self worth: he knew well enough your friend didn’t like him and believed you could have so much better than him. You two walked home blanketed by a tick silence, only enhanced by the sounds of London around you two, your head hurting and him more pathetic than his usual self. 

The apartment wasn’t as messy as you left it the day before: the array of dirty plates and cups had disappeared from the sink, the reusable shopping bags all neatly folded and the mountain of shoes shelved in the shoe rack next to the door.

“That's all I could do.” Billy told you, his eyes not truly meeting yours. “You were right, I should help you more with housework. I don’t know what to do, but I’ll try.”

You cupped his cheek and he nuzzled your palm like a cat: he missed you last night, his guilty heart keeping him awake most of the night.

“You can ask me, if you want. And there’s Google to help you.”

And that’s where you made a huge mistake: not considering how much of a people pleaser Billy is, how much he lives to be told that he's done good and that he is not as subpar as he thinks he is. 

He tries, bless his heart, but his learning curve is very steep. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of shirts he burned while ironing, or the plants he knocked off by mistake while he was dusting, or that one time he tried to unclog the drain and almost flooded the apartment. 

And then there's TikTok. 

In his personal quest to become good at maintaining the apartment clean, he stumbles upon the videos of people mixing up chemicals, and he follows them religiously, without truly thinking about which detergents he's using at the same time, if he should put those together and that, perhaps, he should keep the window open. You've lost count of the amount of times your local A&E called, because he's almost poisoned himself; you are basically on a friendship level with the nurses there and one, a friendly brunette, has told you they tend to get worried when they don't see Billy pop up every once in a while. 

As steep as his learning curve had been, he's now become very good at keeping the house spotless, so much so you two decided he should be a stay at home husband, by the time you two tightened the knot. 

It had taken him a while to unpack all the toxic ideas he was raised with, how a man should be and act: be the breadwinner or be a failure, find yourself a job and don’t live off your spouse and housework is not real work and it’s not for a man to do.  It hasn’t been easy for him to accept that he could still be a man and take care of you in ways that aren’t a big paycheck, that the world outside, how competitive it is, isn’t truly for him, and that he isn’t less of a man for this.

The last nail in the coffin had been your promotion and the probable move to the Milan office; neither of you wanted to suffer through a long distance relationship and the meager positions Billy had applied for, didn’t have the option for him to work overseas.  When Milan stopped being an option, you both had decided that he should still stay at home and be happy.

When you unlock the door you welcome the sight of Billy kneeling on a pillow, naked and collared, with his head bent and the leash neatly folded in his hands; his eyes fleetingly meet yours to then focus on the freshly clean carpet again.

“Welcome back” He says with a deep voice, tinged with a need you know all too well.

“Hi sweetling.” You answer back.

Slowly you remove your shoes and leave them on the rack; you savor the feel of the carpet under your feet and that your heels are finally off for the day. Through your lashes you observe Billy’s body vibrate with need and decide to play with him, because you haven’t tormented him in a while.

You walk towards him and stand where he’s kneeling, your center in front of his face and you can see the way his pink tongue darts out to lick his beautiful lips.

“Is there something the matter, my love?” You ask with a sweet voice.

“Please.” He whines.

“What do you need, pup?”

His face falls against your skirt, right where your cunt is and he takes a long whiff.

“Use your words Billy.”

Your voice is stern now, your fingers in his hair hurt him when you force his face up, to stare at his expression.

“I need it, please.”

His voice is a pathetic, little whine, his eyes don’t meet yours to show his submission to you.

“Billy, Billy Billy.” You punctuate every iteration of his name with a strong pull to his hair. “You need to be more specific and don’t act like a dog in heat.”

With that you use your fist in his hair to pull him towards the couch; you could have used leash, you could have ordered him to walk, but you need that extra bout of ownership over him, as he does and he complies with small whines as he tries to crawl at your pace and can’t truly manage.

You lose your hold when you sit on the couch with your legs spread, Billy kneeling between them; you see the way his eyes focus on your, now, exposed panties. You can’t help but smirk at his naked desire, his need to bury his face in your cunt: with him is almost a daily occurrence, one way or another he’s on his knees, worshiping you, hungry for you like you are the only meal he’s going to have for days.

“I’m going to ask you for the last time, BIlly: what do you need, my sweet pup?”

“Please, let me eat you?”

For the first time since you returned home, his pretty blue eyes bore into yours, so huge and sad and pathetic.

“But I’ve been out and about for the whole day Billy, I need a shower.”

You pretend to stand up and he panics, his hands go to your hips and his face burrows against your clothed cunt.

“No, no, please! Don’t make me wait!”

You try to dislodge his face from between your legs and he just curls his hands tighter around the soft meat of your hips, as he whines, desperately against your clothed cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine, almost stealing a moan from you.

“Billy! Billy!” You try to say as you grab fistfuls of his hair to make him move. “Be good and behave or I will not let you eat me!”

You know that he knows you’re not kidding, your tone carries the weight of your treat, and he pulls his face back, but doesn’t stop him from pouting, staring at you with big, accusatory eyes.

You wind your hand around the leash before he can start any more shenanigans.

“I need you so bad!” He wails, with a pathetic, sad voice.

“I know I have been at work a lot, pup, but you should remember your manners, always.”

He looks contrite now, with his head lowered again.

“I just missed you so much.” He mumbles.

“As I did you. Look at me now.” You say with a firm, yet gentle, voice.

Billy complies, his eyes are glossy with unshed tears and his lower lip is bitten raw: he’s not kidding when he’s saying that he needs you badly.

“You will eat my pussy, eventually. I will have to punish you first, though.”

His breathing quickens after your words and the tears start to fall, silently they roll down his pink cheeks, making him look even more pathetic. You hug him and his long arms sneak around you, curling as tight as possible around your frame: he needs you, needs to know you’re not mad at him.

“Shh, sweetest pup, shh.” You kiss the crown of his head. “I love you so much.”

He cries harder at your words, the sobs wreak his big body and you have to hug him with all your strength, gently rocking your bodies until he calms down and lifts his head to look at you; his eyes are crystal clear, the color of the mountain sky after a rainstorm and his cheeks are apple red.

“Do you feel better?” You ask, caressing his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“Yes. I worked myself up over nothing. I’m sorry.” He sounds contrite and ashamed of himself.

“No pup, I’m the one that’s sorry. I’ve let work overrun my life, and that should have never happened.”

You tend to do that, hyperfocus and work yourself into exhaustion; even with Billy in your life you still make the mistake to forget that there’s a life outside your office. When you were still single, you were the only one suffering, but now you have to consider your husband’s feelings and needs as well, and you were terrible at that, as of late.

“I’ll tell you, next time. I will not let your job steal you away from me again.”

“Thank you, pup. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You lean into him and kiss him slowly, tongue sliding against his with sensual strokes that have him moan wantonly, precume leaking from his reddened tip copiously with every slide of your tongue against his.

“Let’s go to bed. Your knees must be raw.”

“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care.”

“This is the reason why that’s my job.” You smile down at him.

You help him stand up and interlock your fingers with his; he stares at you as if you’re a miracle and you can’t help yourself but kiss his stubby cheek, giggling like a teenager.

You let him undress you, his big hands caress your body with gentle strokes that turn heated when your breasts and cunt are revealed to his hungry eyes.

“Go kneel on the bed, pup. I need something before you can feast on me.”

Billy follows your order with his eyes fixed on you, drinking down the sight of your naked skin as you retrieve the small box with the toys; you make sure he sees the rabbit vibrator in your hands, and the lube.

Leisurely you walk to the bed and stand behind him, before bending to kiss his nape.

“I’m going to be quick with your punishment. I’ve missed your mouth so much, pup” You whisper in his ear and he shudders, willing himself not to come untouched.

Billy is kneeling at the end of the bed, you sit with your legs spread and your back against the pillows; your hole is already wet and you know he can see it, the thought makes you clench and he moans.

“Are you thinking about my cunt strangling your cock? How tight I can be just for you?”

Billy moans and his hands curl into fists.

“Yes. I love your cunt so much.” He whines.

“What a good pup that you are.”

Looking straight into his blue eyes you uncap the lube and pour a generous amount on the vibrator, before turning it on and spreading your labia for Billy to see.

“Tell me, pup, why do you like my cunt so much?”

His intake of breath is visible when you insert the vibe which is set on the lowest speed.

“It’s…” He gulps. “It’s pretty and warm.”

He has to close his eyes when you start pumping the vibrator in and out, nice and slow, your eyes never leaving his.

“Yeah?” You moan.

“Your lips are so plump and soft. Christ please!”

“Keep going, pup.” Your hips jut up when you insert the vibe fully, letting the small part sit against your clit.

Billy is staring at your center unabashedly, his tongue is liking his lips with hunger.

“Puppy please, tell me more.”

You can feel your body arch under his stare and your hands go to your breasts to play with your nipples: you want to be as wet as possible for him, give him all of your essence.

“Taste so good.” He pants, visibly restraining himself. “So much of it for me, can live off it.”

“Yes, oh!” 

The head of the vibe pushes against your G spot as you writhe on the bed and you almost come.

“Clit so small and pretty, needs licking and sucking, baby please!”

He’s so desperate, thinking about your perfect cunt has him fuck the air like a dog in heat and seeing you touching your body, all your muscles vibrating with pleasure, drives him absolutely mad, his nerves burning with the need for your body.

“Yes pup, come to me. Drink from me.”

You lift your hand to him and he jumps to you, hastily removing the vibe to suck your essence there and discard it on the bed.

He lays on the mattress and grabs your hips to plaster his face against your center, his tongue licking at your folds desperately, his nose pushing haphazardly against your puffy clit. You keen and moan, your hips pushing against his face as his tongue fucks you and you curl your muscles around it to feel him fully.

“Billy! Billy, yes!!!” You scream. “So close Billy!”

You explode in his face, and he keeps going, slipping one finger inside of you and sucking on your clit like a desperate man, the pad rough against your G spot and you fuck yourself against his face, the pleasure making you delirious for him.

“Fuck all my holes Billy” You keen. “I love you so much!”

You scream when you come again, tears streaming down your face when he doesn’t stop and licks fat stripes up and down your cunt, his hands hurt where he’s keeping you in place and your feet kick against his back, you beg and cry, too much pleasure burning through your body life wildfire.

You try to slip away and he grunts, making you jump, forcing you closer to his hungry mouth and tongue, his teeth nibble at your abused clit and you squirm and cry, your body arching under him, so much pleasure, too much pleasure frying your brain, 

It hurts, you can’t get enough of him, so much pressure builds inside of you, his tongue flicks your poor clit and his lips suck it harshly as you whine and cry. 

He slurps on your honey, hungry and fast, your nerves burning for him, your hands in his hair grabbing the strands with desperation; his moans destroy you and you squirt all over him, his tongue fast to lick everything you’re giving him, until it hurts and he lets go, only to lay his face on your tummy, breathing your intoxicating scent in.

“So good, Billy.” You smil, drunkenly at him.

BIlly stares at you with adoring eyes, his lips leave small kisses on your tummy and you laugh, his stubble tickles you and, you fear, you’re going to have burns everywhere on your tights.

“Were you serious?” He asks, after a bit.

“About what?”

He’s cuddling you now, keeping your face close to his chest.

“Me using all your holes.”

His cheeks burn bright with embarrassment and you hug him with all your might. 

“I very much like it, Billy. I love your cock so much and I would gladly let you use it on me however you want.”

Billy almost chokes on his tongue and can’t meet your eyes.

“Even your arse?”

Sweet Billy; you don’t laugh because you know he will likely feel offended. He’s still exploring his sexuality, trying with you all that he has never had the courage to do in his past relationships.

“Even that. I want to feel you for days. Every time I walk and sit, I want to remember the weekend you fucked me like a whore.”

Billy’s hips stutter against your tummy, and you feel a drop of come splutter against your skin.

“Would you like that, pup?”

Billy’s eyes cross at the mere idea: he’ll do anything you want, tarnish your body  in all the ways you’ll order him to use.

“Yes.” He moans. “I can’t wait.”

[stoneytruck]

Happy New Year to everyone who stumbles upon this post! I wish you all the best 🤍🩶🖤

Now, I would like to update you on the Who's Lila Zine. Unfortunately, we have NOT reached the goal of 22 people for the project, as there are 3 empty slots at the time of the deadline (WE HAVE FOUND AN ARTIST FOR THE EMPRESS, WE ARE SOOO BACK).

HOWEVER.

The zine is still going to be made, because I, myself, am going to fill those empty slots! While the initial goal was not reached, I know that the people who have joined this project did it out of love for the game and for what it stands for. Just the amount of support and people spreading the word showed me that this is something that many people in the community would like to see being made, and that's enough for me to start working on it!

FOR EVERYONE WHO SHOWED EVEN THE SLIGHTEST OF INTEREST IN THIS LITTLE COLLABORATION, I THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART.

Here is the list of the cards and the artists who are going to work on them!

0. @officeshoebox 1. @urartbro 2. @louijanaa 3. @bloomenvogel 4. clemtime 5. Noodlespark1 6. @saznny 7. maskedphoenix22 8. @iguessihaveanaccountnowguys 9. me 10. @funkyworm1234 11. @whenthedeeppurplefalls 12. @feveraven 13. tulpatree 14. redrring 15. @pixiedixiedo 16. @sitephi 17. @viktuurishipper96 18. @zombieboy07 19. @boygerbishart 20. @tuxedkitt 21. @qutille

YOU CAN NOW START WORKING ON THE ARTWORK. YOU HAVE TIME UNTIL THE 1ST OF FEBRUARY TO WORK ON THE ARTPIECE (that counts for me too, of course), SO GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN! If you need help with your art piece, like an advice or you're uncertain about something, just send me a DM and I'll answer asap!!

VERY IMPORTANT EDIT: I have forgotten to add the details of the artwork, MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR THAT!!!

SIZE: 7 cm x 12 cm (2,756 x 4,724 inches) FORMAT: As long as the final result is sent in PNG format, you can use any digital program you'd like. If you're working with traditional tools, remember to send me a scan of the piece! COLORS ARE A MUST, whether you only do flat colors or you choose to shade is not important!

This post is pinned on my blog to make it easier to find it in the future! If you need info about your card and the ending it's associated to, here is the Google Doc for you!

[rascal-xo]

Things We Never Said - Simon Riley x Female Reader

summary: it’s been a few weeks since your death, and Simon finds an unknown piece of your memory on base…

warnings; ANGST, mentions of death, overall sadness

Tags: @pukbadger @fiveshelmet @myguiltypleasures21 @madamemelaninn @emmaadlerrichtofen1 @swissy23 @thatchickwiththecamera @glitteryeggalmondherring @glitterypirateduck @glitteryeggalmondherring @allaboutirem0 @kittyoonsstuff @guiltgoreglory

A/N: Quick blurb to let you know that i’m alive - Also I no longer have access to my google form that I made for people who wanted to be added to my taglist so if you want to be on it, COMMENT UNDER MY MASTERLIST (pinned to my profile) My posting schedule is hella messy so keep checking back in every now and then if you aren’t on the taglist already.

Ghost, walked down the dimly lit corridor of the military base, his footsteps echoing in the silence. It had been a few weeks since Y/N’s untimely death, a sacrifice made in the chaos of a life-or-death situation. Captain Price had ordered her room to remain untouched, a small shrine to her memory. It was the least the 141 could do after losing someone so vital to the team.

With a heavy heart, Ghost pushed open the door to Y/N’s room. It was as if time had stopped in this space. Her belongings, her scent, everything felt frozen in time. He ran a gloved hand over the edge of her neatly made bed, memories flooding back.

He approached her small desk, cluttered with mementos and photos. Among them was a pair of backup dog tags she always kept close. Ghost picked them up, his fingers trembling slightly. He stared at them, lost in thought.

As he reached for a framed photo of her and the rest of the 141 on a rare day off, his fingers brushed against something unexpected. A folded letter, hidden beneath the photo, caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat as he pulled it out.

The handwriting was unmistakably Y/N’s, and he felt a lump in his throat as he saw his name on the front. He carefully opened the folded paper…

"Simon,

I know you’ll stumble upon this at some point, so i’m writing down some thoughts now anyway. Life's funny that way, isn't it?

I'm sorry, too, for any mess I might've made along the way. Life got tangled, and I wish I could've sorted it out better. I got you caught up in my mess and I promised myself i’d take you out of it eventually.

You've been so important to me, even when I couldn't quite say it right. Your happiness was always my biggest hope, and I hope you find it, even if I'm not around to see it.

In another world, in another time, who knows, right? But just remember, you meant the world to me.

Oh, and about all my stuff, there's no will or anything, but I want you to have it. You can do whatever you like with whatever’s left in my room when you all make it back to base safe. I secured all knowledge that you all will.

Maybe it’s selfish but I hope you’ll keep a piece of me with you. It’s not fair to ask that of you, but I will be at peace knowing you’re safer now.

You’re forever in my heart and mind, Simon Riley. Don’t forget it, Lt.

With all my love,

Y/N

Simon’s world seems to crumble around him. The words weighing heavily on his soul, like an anchor dragging him into an abyss of grief. A profound emptiness settles deep within him, a hollow ache that left him gasping for breath.

It was as if the letter has stolen the very essence of his being, leaving him adrift in a sea of sorrow. The room feels colder, the memories more distant, and the future more uncertain. The person who had given his life meaning, who had been his anchor, was gone.

[fictionfreedom]

Having been more on the anti side even if I didn't know about shipcourse really gives me a lot to think about. It was cause I was reactionary and had triggers.

(long rant ahead)

And most of the time, it wasn't even stuff I just stumbled upon. Either it was someone I followed and didn't know was into that or it was an algorithm recommending it (like finding stuff in google images or told "you may like this!") or I would actively search for it and scroll to be mad.

It's a miserable way to live. Learning to block is so freeing honestly. Like I mean. I've undone a lotta that thinking and even have a lot of egregious things that would get me looked at weird. But also if you are in that mindset because of triggers, it just keeps you triggered. It just keeps you hurting yourself because you're so busy being mad and trying to feel justified. You aren't helping people by focusing on this "problematic content." And most of the time, you're just exposing that content to more people that don't want to see it just for the sake of being mad and harassing a stranger for a fucking coping mechanism.

"it's not a healthy coping mechanism" that's not for you to decide. "I used to do it and it made me worse." Sorry for you, but that doesn't mean it's unhealthy for them. "But it could trigger others" that's why tws and tags exist. It IS possible to avoid seeing content that upsets you. I've managed to do it as I was leaving the anti side of things.

For antis, they expose themselves the most to that form of content just to be mad about it and feel like they're protecting minors. And even if it comes from a place of trauma like mine, it doesn't help. And even if it WAS an unhealthy coping mechanism for someone, it is not YOUR JOB as a complete stranger to handle that. It is not your job to decide what's best for someone that you don't know a single thing about. You don't know their face, their legal name, their life, their family, their friends. And yet you're deciding what's best for them. They'll share screenshots of the posts, talk all about it, share it around. I saw more harmful triggering content as an anti than I ever have since being more proship/just not giving a shit cause I'm too busy focusing on taking care of myself.

But antis make it seem like they're shoving it down people's throat. When most of the time you either have to go looking for it or it's some algorithm that makes it show up. In which case, it's not their fucking fault it "breached containment."

It's really easy to cater your space especially on tumblr of all places. You don't have to understand or like it. But you do not know that person or anything.

Also the "you can use it to cope, but not publicly" is just bs. It still encourages shame of it. And a lot of the time to help people is needing a community.

(this turns vent below. personal experience related to the above phrase.)

I've had that phrase used against me for my sfw agere because I referred to my caretaker as "daddy" and got made fun of for being cringe and treated like it was a fucking kink. Because I was too dissociated at the time to remember to add an agere tag above it on the app I was using. And instead of just letting me know, they mocked us and made fun of us and said it was a "borderline kink." (Not even against the kink myself. It was just the fact that it was our sfw agere coping. We felt little after a horrible day.) and made fun of us for a simple post being happy at our caretaker caring for us.

They used my little mistake of not putting it under a tagline (like under the keep reading line on here, that app was very different) and noting it as agere to be disgusted at the word daddy. "I don't need to see 'daddy' on my timeline. You should think of other people on this app." (Because the way the app works is that in the most recent feed you see every single post unless blocked or privated. So the shitty way the app worked led to this even happening.) To say it was cringe and should be done in private. On an app meant for mental health venting and posting. To make me seem like a creep. For a like two sentence post. And cause I, a dissociated autistic individual, didn't know how to properly tag my post.

That app was filled with essentially cliques and high school mean girls so it's a big part why I left. That and the terrible staff. And it was filled with antis and discourse and drama. And bigots and predators. It was a whole mess.

But back to original point. Having been on the anti side as well is like. You really have to realize that making sure to manage your triggers is YOUR responsibility. I would spend so much time being angry at these people by going INTO THEIR TAGS. To scroll and be mad. Never bothered anyway cause I don't interact with people, but still. And now when I see someone with a rancid opinion or being an asshole or I just don't vibe, ✨ b l o c k ✨ Actual harmful abusive and predatory people are everywhere and it is never as easy as looking at the content they like to be able to tell. That's why they often are outed by people before you know what they were doing. You don't need to harm prevent by removing things that are coping mechanisms. Because if they were used in a bad way, that is not the fault of the creator. If it breaches containment, that is not the fault of the creator that tagged it properly and shit.

And realize that it's not up to you to protect the imaginary minors being groomed. Because if one of them is being harmful to minors or others, that is not because of them being proship. :) same reason there are predators and abusers everywhere. Every community has them. It is not because of the content they make or enjoy that a person in their community is harmful.

(sorry for poor wording, trouble thinking and keeping brains straight and semiverbal, disorganized thinking and speech, hope could get points across)

.

(Sorry I don't have any add-ons rn lol)

-Not!Martin

[bad268]

Second Place (Theo Pourchaire X F1 Academy! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Nope, just happy Theo is leading the championship now

Warnings: alcohol, Theo pushes the reader but no one's injured, hurt/comfort ig

Pronouns: You/your but fem reader (F1 academy driver&heels)

W.C. 1342

Summary: Theo is upset about always being in second place.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/Motorsport.com)

Another race, and another second place for both you and Theo. Solid results for you, but for Theo, it just made him angry. He was always getting second place, rarely first, and while he hated these second-place trophies, you thrived on them. He could never understand despite knowing you for a decade and being with you for nearly two years.

You decided to go out to celebrate the results with your friends that night. Theo and his friends joined once they found out you were going to the same area. That’s how you, Theo, and a large group of your friends found yourselves at a club, closing in on midnight.

At first, it was great. Everyone was partying, dancing, drinking, talking, and having the time of their lives. Well, everyone except Theo. 

He was silently fuming as he nursed his eighth drink of the night. Why? Why did he always have to come in second? Why did you always celebrate second-place finishes as if you won the championship? Why did you not see second place as the first loser? Why did he feel envious of you for the same result? Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his veins, but the liquid courage helped him ask you about it when you stumbled over to the booth he was hiding in.

“Hi Theo,” you giggled, leaning into him as you placed a kiss on his cheek. You did not notice the way he gripped his glass harder as his thoughts ran wild. “Why aren't you celebrating with us? Is your social battery dead? We can head back to the hotel.”

“How do you handle always being in second place?” He snapped, pushing you away enough to cause you to lose your balance for a second. You sobered up a bit at his reaction. He had never been one to get jealous of your results and he was not the type of person to hurt you in any situation.

“I see it as being reliable, I guess,” You answered, taking a breath and seat across from Theo. “I am consistently getting second place and my team can rely on me to bring in good points.”

“But doesn’t it ever get to you? Never winning?” He retreated back, almost like a moment of clarity despite the amount of alcohol in his system. You took it upon yourself to grab the glass and move it out of his reach; it was time for him to get cut off.

“I don’t see it like that,” you responded immediately. You could see that he was eating himself up over second place, but you needed him to see the other side, the positive side because he was spiraling. “Second place is still great points, and that’s how I was pretty much able to secure the championship this year. I just need one more second-place finish in a feature, and I win.”

“But don’t you wish that you won every once in a while?” He asked genuinely. “Standing on the top shelf, hearing your anthem, getting the biggest trophy, just the pride in saying that you won a race. Don’t you want that?”

“I do, but I’m not going to risk everything over a small chance to lead,” you responded, semi-understanding where he was coming from. “It’s everyone’s dream to win, but if I’m consistent enough, I can win either way. So many people have won races, then didn’t finish in the points, so their points are never consistent. I would rather say that I can achieve the same results at every race than say I won a single race. I’d rather win the bigger picture.”

“How…” He trailed off, looking around the club in disbelief. He was mainly just avoiding eye contact with the woman in front of him, but he could not fully understand her train of thought. “How do you stay so positive throughout the season? I just don’t get it.”

“Because you’re drunk, Theo,” you laughed, moving to stand. “You are drowning your sorrows in alcohol. Let’s go back to the room, and when you’re sober, I’ll help change your mind about being in second place because second place is just as great as first, if not more so. You just need to see it.” 

~~

It’s Thursday night. You would both be in the cars tomorrow for the practice and qualifying sessions, but tonight, you were sitting on the couch in Theo’s room, eating room service. Theo had remembered everything from the drunk conversation, but he regretted the way he talked to you immensely.

“I just want to say I’m sorry for how I brought up the conversation at the last race party,” he admitted, turning his full attention to you. You, on the other hand, did not understand where this apology was coming from. To you, he was just being hard on himself and needed some uplifting, especially after last year’s battle against Felipe Drugovich. 

“You don’t need to apologize, Theo. You were drunk-” you started but he cut you off.

“Being drunk isn’t an excuse!”  He was generally upset with how he brought up the conversation, and he was confused that you just brush it off. “I pushed you, and you almost fell! Being drunk does not excuse me from being a dick to you.”

“You weren’t a dick, let’s get that straight,” you put your foot down. “You were down, and you were upset. Sure, the alcohol didn’t help, but it’s a conversation we can have now, sober. Why were you so upset that you got second, and why do you think it’s so bad?”

“It’s just,” he sighed, taking a minute to sort through his thoughts as you grabbed his hand, reassuringly. “I’m always second. I was second in the championship last year, I am second in this championship, I haven't won a race since Bahrain, but I got second loads of times! Why am I always second? Am I that bad of a driver?”

“You are not a bad driver,” you comforted, pulling him into a hug. He immediately hid his face in your neck as you ran your fingers down his back and through his hair. “You are second in the championship by like five points, Theo, and you’re right. You haven’t won since Bahrain. How many has Vesti won this season?”

“Like four races, I think,” he answered. You pulled him out of your neck, placing your hands on either side of his face, and looking into his blue eyes.

“And you are keeping up with someone who has won three more races than you,” you put into perspective. “Don’t you see? All those second places add up quickly. You are five points behind someone who won more races. You are consistently in the points, not Vesti. As long as you keep up this streak, you’ll have the championship in no time.”

~~

“And Theo Pourchaire crosses the line in second place, and he takes the lead of the championship!” 

Theo was on the moon, or the podium. It’s crazy what a little difference in perspective can do for you. He jumped out of the car and immediately wanted to hug and thank you, but alas, you were racing in your own race. 

He stood on the second-place podium and for once, he was happy to be there. You were right. There was nothing wrong with coming in second place. It was solid points. 

That night, you both met up at the club. Instead of drowning his feelings in eight pints, he only had a couple because he was too busy dancing with you.

“Was I right? Second place is just as good as first, you can admit it.” You joked with him on the walk back. Well, more like ride back as you took your heels off at some point during the night, and Theo was not about to make you walk to the hotel barefoot. 

“You’re onto something,” he joked back, looking back at you on his back. “I’ll admit you’re right after we both win the championship.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[door-insurance]

Revisiting life is strange and its fandom is really bittersweet

I don’t think the fandom is completely dead, it’s not what it used to be and I accept that but it’s bittersweet

also I don’t wanna gatekeep anyone from discovering LiS late, I don’t believe in “true fans”- I’m glad we’re still getting fandom babies hehh, thankfully there is a lot of fan materials to be discovered

I just wanna be a sentimental fool about the life is strange fandom, I was there when the first episode came out I was as old as the characters and it was an event, a moment that can never be replicated- the barbenheimer for tumblr lesbians

We never had a game like this before, it felt tailor made for us and we went crazy

It was fun, you’d just log on tumblr and find new fanart of your favorite character or ship- inside jokes and shitposts were rampant, a couple of fan writers and artists came together and made a fan game- “Love is Strange” where Max gets to romance Chloe, Kate, Victoria, Amber (tell me I’m not the only who remembers shrektoria and Rachel eating a salad while laughing meme)

I made fanart and memes and they blew up but I lost that account

They’d call us sjw trash on YouTube and make fun of the game, we didn’t give a shit

But I think it was around before the storm where i started to lose interest and was burnt out, also I just didn’t like the direction they went with for the game I thought it was an unnecessary edition to the main story (Rachel didn’t need a complicated backstory, Elliot, too much conflict for 3 episodes) and I don’t think I was the only one cause this is where the fan art and fic updates started to slow down

Then I moved on to other things, other fandoms- shit happens.

Life is strange was just another part of my cringey teenage self who the hell cares I was cringe

But now I’m an adult, I have responsibilities and anxieties that I never knew I’d have to deal with- i went through a lot in the last 8 years sometimes I wish I was still that cringey ass teenager. This year was particularly bad, lost someone I loved

I stumbled upon old fan art on Pinterest and it reignited my love for the first game, I felt happy that I had something to take my mind off and goddamn revisiting the fandom years later is so bittersweet. I miss my old fandom mutuals, the blogs that used to update everyday were last active 5 years ago and most of the og fan artists had either rebranded or had left, one of them got hacked

Tumblr doesn’t make it easy for you to look up older posts, you have to rely on old blogs, Google or Pinterest (kinda made it my mission to archive what I can find)

There are new artists doing their own thing and I love that for them! Also people still write fanfics and update them, when I have the time I sketch out my fave characters and ships- it seems like there is a vocal community on tiktok but idk i don’t wanna go there

But it’s not what it was and I accept that, shit happens I’m glad I got to experience it during its peak and that I was left with good memories and content I can still enjoy

I’ve definitely seen shittier and deader fandoms

Before LiS and Steven universe there weren’t a lot of spaces that let you enjoy wlw ships, they were either upstaged by yaoi stuff or fetishized (deviantart) this game and its fan base helped me accept my identity as a lesbian, told me it’s not a fetish when two girls hold hands

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Prompt Submission From Followers #1

Hey there! Check out this amazing submission from one of my followers in response to my prompt. This story is so interesting and mysterious - it really makes me want to read more! Thank you so much for sharing your writing. It's amazing. If you're looking for beta readers for any of your works in progress (WIPs), I'm definitely interested! Email me and let me know!

My Email: TheWriteAdviceContact@Gmail.com

Follow the creator of this submission, all credit to them: @waste-lit

Prompt:

“Your character stumbles upon a hidden door in their favorite place. When they open it, they find something completely unexpected.”

Submission:

Amafray made her way down the hall. Did the sentinel say that it was the thirteenth door to the right? Or was it the eleventh to the left? She should have paid better attention. The hallway now appeared to continue in perpetuity in both directions. She couldn’t see the large oak doors from which she came from. In her opinion, magic and architecture should not go hand and hand. The castle was constantly shifting and changing, never the same. She paused next to a door, a simple wood door, but a cool breeze seemed to seep through the crack at the bottom of the door. She put her ear to it and could hear the gentle crash of the surf. She pushed it open. In front of her a rocky beach led to the ocean. The water seemed to go on farther than her eye could see. The smell of salt was so strong she could taste it. “Amafray! Did you find the bathroom yet?” Back in the hallway Wiggins was approaching her. She stepped back into the hall and closed the door. “Not yet.”

If you'd like to submit your writing to my prompt, please fill out the short and easy Google Form below.

“Your character stumbles upon a hidden door in their favorite place. When they open it, they find something completely unexpected.”

Feel free to interpret this prompt in any way that inspires you! Here are a few guidelines:

Keep it short and sweet: Aim for 100-200 words.

Be creative: The more imaginative, the better!

Share your story: Post your response in the Google Form below.

I can’t wait to see what unexpected encounters your characters will have. Happy writing! 🌟

Upload Your Submission Here!

[hannibalruinedme]

Hannibal and my life long suffering

I know I'm late. I know you all have been in my shoes and survived. (or did you?)

I'll keep it very simple. I'm a very normal person. Once in a blue moon I stumble upon a piece of media so beautiful that I let it take over my whole soul. The media I consume, consumes me.

Long story short: I've finished watching Hannibal 2 days ago and the ache I feel in my heart is PHYSICAL. If anyone ever told me that I had yet to discover something which would make me feel the way hannibal made me feel, I wouldn't have believed in them. But boy I was wrong. I just know that this masterpiece of a series will forever torment me slowly. I'll never be able to NOT to feel pain whenever I come across Hannigram edits. It'll forever have this tormenting yet not welcomed grip on my heart. Am I suffering? Deeply. Do I want it to go away? No. Do I need more? A thousand times yes. This has to one of the best Achillean shows out there and we did deserve more of it. We still do.

It feels tragically unfair that there is little to no hope for a season 4. Yes I know, the s3 ending is very beautiful in it's own way. But was it worth giving up hannigram over? I don't think so. I wholeheartedly believe nothing will ever HIT home as much as Hannigram does. Once you get the taste for it, nothing ever feels the same.

I'm completely shattered and depressed. I'm not being dramatic when I say that I sigh all day and stay up late watching old Hannigram contents over and over. I've literally texted Bryan (lol) on Instagram begging for more and I Google "Is there any hope for Hannibal s4" 5 times a day. Even tho the fannibals are always thriving (I love you), seeing a content which has "8 years ago" marked under it, makes me feel terribly lonely. It's deeply saddening to me. The phase I'm in right now, I don't believe I'll ever stop waiting for season 4. I've realised, after doomscrolling on reddit, that most of you've accepted the fact that it's over. Well, good for you. I hope one day I'll be able to reach that stage and be happy with how things ended.

But not for now, right now, I'm on edge. I wake up with knots in my stomach and go through my day feeling miserable. (it might sound extreme to some of you but if you've ever fallen in love with fiction deeply, you'd know). So if you're one of the fannibals who's hopeful (delusional) that there might be a chance of a season 4, please, pick me up. I need consolations from all of you. Please tell me what do you think. Is really there ANY chance? Please give me some hope. If it continues someday (someday...) with more Hannigram (as Bryan has already promised in the last online cast meet up) on the toe, I'd be the HAPPIEST person alive. The HAPPIEST. Even a film would do. Just something. Just a bit more of our murder husbands GOD PLEASE.

[kila09]

SHIPPER TAG GAME

tagged by @gloster

1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore?

-not really obsessed, but I'd have to say Nick/Maddie from PR: Mystic Force. I really liked their dynamic and tbh, it was that couple that introduced me to fanfics because I went googling for info on Melanie and Firass

2. Which ship would you consider your first one?

-oh that's an easy one: Tommy/Kim. The moment I saw them on screen, I started shipping them before I even knew what shipping was. They were my OTP before I even knew what that was. Even at that young age, I was taken in by their chemistry, their understanding and acceptance of each other, the slow build up of their relationship...just...their everything. Honestly, it was because of this ship that i could not get into Disney fairytales because they did more to convince me of true love than any Disney movie ever did.

3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple?

-Tommy/Kimberly. After I learned what fanfic was from searching Maddie/Nick...I stumbled upon a Tommy/Trini story and it didn't sit right with me lol. I kept thinking "Tommy and Kim are meant to be" and then I started writing a story about them. Took my weeks, after I'd written the first seven chapters, to work up my courage to actually post that first chapter.

4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over?

-more than likely Nick and Maddie.

5. Did you ever get into ship discourse?

-uhm....I mean, not really? I've responded to one or two anon posts or even made a post or two about a ship but actual discourse? I usually have those discussions with my friend

6. Did you used to have a NOTP or have it currently?

-ha! Did I ever! And still do: Kataang, Klance, Hinny, McRolls, Tommy/Kat, Jason/Kim, Dramione, Romione.

7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read?

-well, I'm currently reading three fanfics right now, so the couple in those are: Zutara, Tododeku, KinnPorsche

8. Currently, do you have any OTPs?

-ohh yeah: Tomberly, Drarry, Sheith, Zutara, KinnPorsche, Tododeku, DickKory, Geraskier

9. Is there any couple, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together?

-yes. I'm pissed they broke Kim and Tommy (rumor was, the letter wasn't even the original storyline but they did it because they wanted the fans to let go of Kimberly and accept Kat); Sheith (they had the best chemistry and the show kept drawing parallels between them and other couples on the show, including Keith's own parents); Zutara (they just made sense and I think Katara would've really blossomed even more because Zuko never would've stifled her or encourage to forego her own culture); Drarry (sure as shit, if one of them was female, it would've happen, so I don't see why it couldn't happen anyways. Plus, I feel they would've understood and balanced each other a lot better than their Canon couples).

10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting?

-nope.

11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now would be canceled over?

-i dont think so, no.

12. What was your favorite crack ship?

-i don't think I had or have one tbh.that.

13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of?

-its split btwn most of my OTPs tbh.

14. What do most of your ships usually have in common?

-hmmm...idk, equality, I guess. The way they understand each other, how they are each others safe space in a way, how they can be themselves (all facets of themselves, e.g., angry, happy, messy, etc.) with each other, the way they're different but also the same in some ways

15. What do you absolutely hate in a ship?

-a bully/victim dynamic that is labeled as enemies-to-lovers; when a miscommunication happens and the person immediately runs away/avoids the other without giving them a chance to explain, which leads into the miscommunication going on for more than 2-3 chapters (even worse when it's a 15 chapter story and the miscommunication happened in like ch 2 and you're on ch 12 and it...is...still...going on)

Tagging: @tomberlylove, @the-badger-mole, @moerusai, @teamironmanforever, @luckydragon10, @ink-and-dagger, @mymcdanno, @angstosaur

[mariaofdoranelle]

So I thought of a hilarious prompt and I think it might fit the fic you wrote for Rowaelin Month single parent AU - Empty Nested.

Rowan and Aelin are very much official and dating as you know 🤭 and you know their kids are happy but not when Finn and Maisie are looking for something in Rowan's bedroom and they stumble upon a box of condoms (it's not the box itself but they did not need to know the size!)

Maisie with her everlasting confidence tries to make light of the findings and says - while their parents hear - "way to go Aelin!"

Thank you so much for the prompt, Emma ❤️❤️❤️ I had the worst day today and you kinda saved me with this @thegreyj

Do You Delight in Traumatizing Your Children?

Empty Nested AU but it can be read as a oneshot too (I think)

Warnings: language, innuendos, condom box family drama

Word count: 1,2k

˜˜˜˜˜˜

Rowan woke up with a sore neck from sleeping on the couch, but his pain turned insignificant when he saw rogue rays of sunshine that peaked through the curtains illuminating Aelin’s golden hair. It cascaded down her figure a bit messy and tangled, probably from last night’s activities.

Aelin’s body started to stir above his, she’d wake up any moment now. He brushed back a strand that fell on her face and kissed the crown of her head.

In the months they’d been dating, her presence in Rowan’s life had shifted his mood in such a way that he began to think of her as his little miracle. In fact, the way he viewed the world had changed so much that Rowan could swear Aelin was the one who lit up the sun.

“Morning, Buzzard,” she greeted in her adorable sleepy voice.

He hummed, idly rubbing her shoulders. “Happy birthday, Fireheart.”

Aelin lifted her head to look up at him, smirking. “It is my birthday today, isn’t it?” she smirked. “Do you have anything planned? Because if you don’t I really want to have brunch at that new place we saw last week.”

“I have many plans about you. One of them is wrapped at my office.”

He gave her a reverent, adoring kiss, trying to show Aelin how in love he was without being called an “old sap” early in the morning. He decided to ask his daughter what that meant once, and the only thing he got was more teasing and zero explanations. Thankfully, Google always had his back.

But her joke had a twist that almost made it funny: Aelin would never admit it, but she was a “sap” as well.

Cradling his face with both of her hands, she said, “You know I don’t need plans, right? You’re the best thing I could have for my birthday.”

“Is this a love confession or an innuendo?” He had a smug smile, proud to rise up to her witty remarks.

Giggling, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Both.” And then looked up again. “I love you.”

Rowan smiled. “I love you too.”

She got up, covering herself with the blanket they got last night to watch TV.

“Prude much?”

Aelin stopped and slowly turned around. Without her or the blanket, there was nothing hiding Rowan’s bare body. Her lips parted. The pace of her breathing changed. And he knew the cause by the way her eyes roamed through his chest and landed on his erection.

The blanket fell on the floor in a heartbeat, and Aelin turned to get the condoms on his TV stand’s drawer. Rowan never thought he’d be the type of person to leave condoms in various spots of his house, but they came in really handy at a time like this.

Aelin sat on his lap first, but didn’t fight when Rowan trapped her beside him and languorously kissed her body, going downwards.

“Do you have any birthday wish, Milady?”

˜˜˜

Their brunch ended up becoming lunch, but what mattered to Aelin was having chocolate cake, so they were fine.

“Buzzard, why didn’t we get a cab?” she whined, slowly walking through the sidewalk.

“Because it’s only three blocks.”

“But I’m too full.”

Rowan chuckled and squeezed her hand.

When they neared his home, his chest filled with warmth by the sight of two blonde teenagers lying on the grass, using their backpacks as makeshift pillows. Aelin stopped dead on her tracks, an affectionate smile slowly building as her eyes glowed. She squeezed his hand, then dropped it and rushed towards them.

Turns out the kids surprised them both by staying this weekend for Aelin’s birthday. Rowan could plan as many things as he wanted, but none of them was better than spending some time with those troublemakers after so long.

Aelin went upstairs to get her place’s key so Finn could leave his things there, and the boy took it as a cue to approach Rowan.

“She seems happy. You’re okay for now.”

Rowan was used to this subtle threat already, so he ran a hand through Finn’s hair, messing it on purpose. “Come on, kiddo,” he digressed while leaving for the kitchen to get the healthy snacks that Aelin’s son loved—and she never had for herself at home.

After getting everything settled, they sat on the living room to catch up. They were talking a lot about their classes and carefully dodging their parents’s questions about parties, alcohol and drugs, but Rowan was too content to brood about that now.

Finn was showing some pictures on the TV when he noticed his phone battery was running low.

“Do you have a charger? Mine’s at mom’s.”

“Dad keeps one in the TV stand.”

He mentioned to get the charger when Aelin paled and yelled, “The left drawer!”

But it was too late.

When Finn opened the drawer, there was a large box with very visible condoms. The whole room froze, and Aelin’s son was only blinking at what he saw, not quite processing it. Unsuspecting, Maisie looked at the drawer, and that’s when the commotion began.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Maisie’s scream put Finn out of his trance. He backed away and faced the wall, repeatedly screaming, “EW!”

Rowan looked at Aelin, and she was gaping at the scene with flushed cheeks, probably as lost as he was.

“FINN, I’M BLIND.”

“Are you kidding me?” He turned to Maisie, yelling, “I wish I was blind!” And then he turned to his mother, finally gaining his words back. “Why is this box so big? Are you trying to repopulate Orynth?”

Aelin tilted her head. “I don’t think these would be useful for that, honey.”

Finn’s jaw went slack by his mother’s snark, and Maisie laughed, somewhere between amused and horrified. “Way to go, Aelin!”

Rowan scratched his forehead. “Look, I know this is too much, but the XL ones are never on sale, so—“

“NO!” the kids screamed in unison, and his cheeks blushed when he realized what he’d just said.

Pointing a finger at him, Maisie demanded, “Don’t you dare finishing that sentence!”

Rowan straightened his posture to look more imposing, not that it had ever worked with Maisie. “Do I need to remind you who the parent is?”

“No! You don’t get to use the dad card now! Do you delight in traumatizing your children?”

He took a deep breath. While Rowan was wondering where did Mais got that flair for the dramatic from, Aelin decided to speak. “It shouldn’t be traumatizing to you guys. In fact, we expected you to be acquainted with those already.” She gave Finn a pointed look.

Her son’s eyes went wide, and he said, “This is too much. I’m leaving.”

“And I’m fucking gay!” Maisie reminded them before following Finn out.

“But what about the STDs?” Rowan asked a second before they closed the front door.

There was a small stretch of silence while they watched the kids cross the road and enter Aelin’s house. He turned to his girlfriend and asked, “Do you think it was too hard on them?”

Aelin leaned a hand on his chest. “It was fine.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “They’ll be back in no time for food.”

TAG LIST

@autumnbabylon

@courtofjurdan

@elentiyawhitethorn

@goddess-aelin

@leiawritesstories

@rowanaelinn

@thegreyj

[astralnymphh]

I stumbled upon a post you made a few months ago about Ellie in the savage starlight costume thing in tlou2 and omfg it's making me want to start cooking smth up because ive been thinking about something like that for AGESSSS

Anyways here's a cool asf photo of her in that outfit I found on Google, as an offering because I yap so much in your asks (it looks like the orange parts are glowing in the dark and omg I want this suit in real life UGHH)

OMG THAT AU BRO ive been huffing space movies for the past month it had me thinking about it again too.. put my girl in space make her happy!!

[oobi-oobi]

Hihi!

Question: How did you develop your art style, and do you have multiple?(like a more realistic and a more chibi?) Also! Who inspires you to make such pretty masterpieces?

𓅭 𓅰 𓅭 𓅰

Thank you so much!!! You’re so kind!

Sorry, in advance for the extremely long response :') My hand slipped/j

These are the 3 big tips for developing an art style I wish knew when I was younger:

Find the things that inspire you, and break down what you specifically like about them.

Experiment! Try new things! Practice! Your art style will develop on its own as long as you keep creating. 

Have fun! Draw what you enjoy and what makes you happy. Your style is yours; you should enjoy it.

When I was younger, I caught myself thinking things like, "I would like to draw the eyes like this, but I can't because it's not my art style." Then I realized that I was getting in my own way. Once I overcame that mental blockade, I started having fun drawing again. When I allowed myself to experiment, it also caused me to improve faster because I could figure out the things I liked and the things I didn't like. Everyone's art journey and process are different, but this helped me personally.

Yes, I do have multiple different art styles. I have my regular art style, a cartoony art style (I am not currently happy with it. I have a lot to work on), a silly doodle art style, and a realism style (or as close as I can get to it). I also draw eyes differently depending on the feeling I want. For example, I draw tear ducts on characters that I want to have a sort of scary horror vibe, and I don't on other characters (I don't really know why or how it started). I also experiment a lot, which causes my art to always look slightly different. 

I also like to prioritize drawing the things that I enjoy the most. I really like drawing faces and expressions so I've practiced that the most (along with neglecting things I don't enjoy like coloring, I'm working on it I swear, I digress). 

There are also a ton of little trademarks that show up over and over again. Like giving characters sideburns or hair strands that frame their faces, never adding highlights in eyes, adding swirls in hair, and there is this weird thing where I associate the number of eyelashes I give characters to their personalities (I couldn't explain it if I tried 😅). I think it's important to stumble upon little things you enjoy drawing and to keep doing it. 

I never made a list of things that inspire my art even though I really should. Below, I'll list off some artists who inspire me who you can find here on Tumblr.

☆Cryptidw00rm 

(also highly recommend their YouTube animatics they're absolutely breathtaking)

☆Seiishindraws

☆Sinlizards. 

☆Nanamis-username 

☆Viria

(their drawing tutorials have left a lasting impact on me from when I was younger. I really suggest looking them up; they're really in-depth. I couldn’t find the original posts, but it's the first results when you Google "viria art tutorial".)

I'm always instantly enamored whenever I see these artists' works. They are such a huge inspiration. Please go check them out!

There are also a ton of other artists and things that inspire me too, but I'll spare y'all for now. >:)

As a bonus, here is a little example of how my art has developed. I just found my old art from each of the listed times. This is my OC Amaryllis over the years.

Below are some collages of sketches that I hope will showcase my style (these took forever to compile)

And finally, have a Megamind that I am proud of but never posted *thumbs up*