#Normal curves

[eydilily]

could i perhaps request a wolf hybrid gem one day ^^

i just realized you said wolf hybrid gem and not werewolf gem . oops,,, but i hope this is okay!

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Waltz

[yousavorthis]

dean doing the clothes shopping whenever sammy outgrows whatever he’s got. he lurks around the local walmart, putting the charm on heavy when the lady stocking shelves looks his way.

he sneaks a set of girls underwear into his jacket, carries on like normal, and when he gets back to the motel-of-the-week and tosses them onto the bed, sammy mumbles a thanks with rosy cheeks and thumbs the fabric, soft to the touch.

dean’s been buying sam girls underwear since he graduated from pull-ups, claimed they were always the easiest to sneak out of the package and hide, stuff in his pocket—smaller, thinner, less bulky.

and all of that’s true, but dean can’t deny the gut churning thrill that crawls up his ribs whenever sammy’s shirt rucks up at the hem and he can see that pink trim dotted with that cute little bow, taut over his hips. can’t deny the way his stare lingers, chases the waistband over his stomach, across a hipbone, eyes stuck right beneath the dimples at the base of his spine. it’s maddening, how bad he wants to rip at those ratty sweatpants, yank them down and fill his hands with pretty pink and baby soft skin.

that night, it’s hot as all hell and the ceiling fans broken, dad’s out at a bar and they can’t sleep. sammy’s frustrated, sweaty and exhausted. and dean’s heart flips and nearly bursts on the spot when sammy shuffles off the side of the bed, pushes his shorts down those long legs and kicks them to the side.

and all at once there it is: his sammy, naked, save for those little pink panties dean eyed up in the store, slipped into his jacket, all for his baby brother.

sam climbs back into bed, flops onto his stomach and burys that messy bed head into the pillow. and god dean can barely control himself, wants to reach out and trace fingertips down the curve of his spine, dig blunt nails into the skin of his hips and drag, drag until he catches on that pink elastic.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I’m imagining an au where Mu Qingfang, during his time as a captive at Huan Hua Palace so he can revive Shen Qingqiu, actually manages the impossible—he somehow returns Shen Qingqiu’s soul back into his body and wakes him up, alive once more. Except… when Shen Qingqiu finally opens his eyes for the first time since his death, it’s Shen Jiu who has awoken.

[spoopieere]

First time trying to draw these gays and got carried away oops

[antlerlad]

end of day yap session with the boyfriend is important for the inquisitor's health

[cr4shcart]

oh this frame is everything to me now, okay

[communistkenobi]

I have to be the hottest person getting misgendered at the family function

[xochitai]

The road to being normal is... rocky

inspo:

i think there was more i was gonna type down here but i am tired. will edit later if i remember

[regicidal-defenestration]

Something I'm sad didn't make it into the Nimona film was more about Ballister's arm like, the comic had a whole thing about the Institute not having use for a one-armed hero, and that being part of why they began framing him as the villain

[seiwas]

hello sel!!! hru doing??

The ask game is super fun! How about Gojo + vindictive.

I hope u hv had a lovely day 🫶

zuro anon

zuro anon hello!! thanks for sending in a prompt!! i'm doing good 🥺 spending this lil vacay at home, mostly 🥺 and happy to be back writing 🥺 i hope you have the loveliest weekend 💗

contains: non-canon, childhood enemies to lovers (ish), (modern) arranged marriage, reader wears a braid and dresses

gojo + vindictive

you hate gojo satoru. you have ever since you were 5.

he's a bully―a real cocky one at that, with no regard or remorse for how his actions affect those around him.

on the day before your 6th birthday, right as your parents gathered together for the annual countdown, he gobbled up the entire plate of your favorite milk cakes before you could even take a bite. this marked the start, the beginning of a vengeance stewing inside of you.

at the age of 8, when you first learned how to do your own braids, he would tug at them, pull them free and unravel all your hard work for the past hour. you used to chase him for it, yell "satoru!" with all the strength your little lungs could muster and he would merely laugh and run faster.

the name "satoru," you've learned, must be synonymous with "sabotage," because it's all he's ever done. he threw the flower geto suguru handpicked for you straight to the ground, and purposely splashed gutter water all over the white dress you intended to wear on your first date.

not to mention, he's always rubbed in the fact that he's better than you, at everything―dangled all his accomplishments in front of you as if he knew they were just centimeters out of reach.

gojo satoru is solely responsible for tainting your childhood memories a miserable cerulean blue.

so, when your parents sit you down one day and tell you that you'll have to marry him, you feel transported in that moment, to each and every instance gojo has ever wronged you. it flips through your mind like a montage of flashbacks in a movie.

it's both surprising and not. your families have always been partners, in everything―business, education, and now you guess, life as well. you hate gojo's guts but this creates an opportunity you don't think can result from anything else.

so, sure, you'll agree to the marriage―only to make his life a living hell.

"hello, fiancée," he greets you, for the first time since the agreement.

you don't do anything to hide your disgust, face scrunching up as you spit out, "shut up, satoru."

the wedding planning is horrendous―at least, you hope it is for him. you pick out every single cake flavor you know he hates and choose the brightest venue possible for the event. the lights you pick for the afterparty are strobe lights, and you make sure to do multiple test runs just to play with his eyes. it doesn't occur to you that the solution to his light sensitivity is simple: just a plain pair of shades.

you wear plumping lip gloss on your wedding day, just so his lips burn when you have to kiss him. but gojo is either extremely numb or just good at faking it, because all he does is grin as he whispers quietly before parting, "spicy."

in preparation for your married life, you create a ledger of some sort―a book of accounts housing every single thing gojo has done wrong. you write down your plans to get him back for each of them, a list of pranks and inconveniences to make him regret ever messing with you all those years ago.

at half a year of marriage and 25 years of knowing each other, he casually tells you the big "i love you," but you're sure he doesn't mean it. you tell yourself your heart is racing from how infuriating his existence is; at how stupid his face looked when he'd said it. not anything else and most especially not the little dimple on his cheek that shows itself every now and then.

(you didn't know it yet then, but he'd found the ledger you kept and read through it all. the one-year plan, the three-year plan, the five, and so on. and it does nothing but strengthen how he feels about you, since he was 6, 14, and a few years ago at 24.

it's at your third year of marriage that you find out―how gojo's known all this time, but more importantly, how there were reasons behind every single instance you thought he was out to ruin your life.

with intelligence far beyond his age, gojo has always preferred the company of adults more than children. at age 6, he would listen in on conversations his mother had with her friends, roughly comprehending complex worlds with the simple ones he understood. someone had mentioned something about their daughter being allergic to milk. and so, when your birthday came up and all he saw were milk treats, he gobbled them all up in an effort to make sure you wouldn't be subjected to an adverse reaction―even though you were far off from any dairy allergy.

what he was sure of, however, was that you were severely allergic to bees. and when he spotted one perched right on the buttercup stem geto handed you, he had no choice but to smack it right out of your hand and down to the ground, stepping on it too, for good measure.

and, okay, maybe he was a little naughty for tugging at your braids when you'd just spent all that time doing them, but he always liked how they flowed into waves when they unravelled; how you'd chase him afterwards, angry but so, so pretty.

if there's one moment gojo will consider real sabotage, though, it's that date he stopped you from going to. like there was any way he was going to let another man see you dressed like that. he isn't nice that way. when gojo wants something, he's not sharing, and the sight of you in white―that was meant to be his and only his.)

[simstationdance]

"Alien" hair family attempt. What do you think?

Color names: Moonstone (blond), Bloodstone (red), Blue Moon (brown), Entropy (black)

[pineappical]

i love drawing ted smiling because i can just scrunch him up SO MUCH

[willosword]

im like reeeeaaaaaaally really really reeaaaally normal about mark grayson. really

[getosugurusbangs]

no alarms and no surprises, please.

[bumblingbabooshka]

I love how this is the only entry on the wiki page for the Rite of Tal'oth. Both T'Pol and Spock talk about their Kahs-Wan and it seems to be an extremely common thing for Vulcan children to go through but ONLY Tuvok so far has mentioned this Tal'oth rite so it doesn't seem to be as expected of Vulcans. This jives with my impression of Tuvok's character being the most spiritual of the three main Vulcans (from what I understand the spirituality of Vulcan that we see in 'later' series is seen as highly taboo and illogical in ENT's time? EX: Tuvok was raised beliving in the katra while most Vulcans in T'Pol's time think katras are a myth). Tuvok speaks about questioning his faith in katras, he has a holoprogram that seems to take place in a monastery, he puts great stock in prayer (his wife and children say prayers for his safe return and he is sure to tell Neelix that the temple they go to is among the holiest on Vulcan), some of his favorite music is monks chanting, and he was pursuing the kolinahr in his youth - the only reason he didn't complete it being that he went through the pon farr and chose to be with T'Pel instead. To me, it would make sense if the Rite of Tal'oth was only undertaken by certain Vulcans who did so for spiritual reasons or as a personal test of some kind rather than something all Vulcans do at a certain age. Tuvok later goes into Security so it's possible he's always had an interest in the kind of life-or-death strategy that such rituals (Kahs-Wan and Tal'oth) require, even if his first time in Starfleet he's shown as a Science officer, likely at his parents' "request." Speaking of, we learn in 'Flashback' that Tuvok's parents pressured him to join Starfleet AND that Tuvok's father is heavily implied to be part of Starfleet. This, and the fact that Tuvok's father specifically was namedropped as the one who disowned him as a teenager makes me wonder whether or not Tuvok was pressured to participate in the Tal'oth ritual - perhaps as a way to prove himself Vulcan once again (after his adolescent failure). Or even as a preparatory method for Starfleet itself since his father was/is part of it. "If you can't do this, how are you going to be a Starfleet officer?" sort of deal.