#a sneak preview

[smovs]

Sketch Request samples featuring prompts from friends, who are all comedians, to announce 🥁🥁🥁 my new membership page! Monthly character card sketch requests for the highest tier (and four-monthly for the penultimate tier) on offer now!

[xtaleunderverse]

Here's a smol preview of Underverse 0.8 part 1

What's happeninnnnnnnnn ooooooooo whas all diiiiiiiisssss 😱

[teenagenutant]

a bit more weird, wild, and less structurally stable than the 2-turtle fusions, here's bosch (raph+mikey+donnie) and machiavelli (leo+mikey+donnie)!

pure impulsive destructive excitement and 'what if your annoying little sibling was also the world's most acrobatic awful cat'

[forbidden-sunlight]

sneak peek of a potential yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario

Love and Fortune is a well-known romance drama about a rich, cold-hearted CEO who falls deeply in love with a hardworking commoner who works at his family’s conglomerate. When it comes right down to it, it’s really nothing spectacular. Just another rags-to-riches depiction that had outstanding actors performing with lackluster scripts. But what would happen if someone had fallen into this world, and was unable to deviate from their role or else they would be punished and start over from the top, all the way back to the first scene of the drama?

This is your life. Forever stuck in the role of the jealous woman who opposes the love of the male protagonist Yeo Jung-Hwa and Hyeong Mun-Hee, the villainous Park Seo-yun. You needed to get through this drama in this loop, say your lines and not trigger anything that could make this world rewind time again or else you’ll go fucking insane. 

But what is going on with Yeo Jung-Hwa? Shouldn’t he be controlled by the rules of this world and love Hyeong Mun-Hee, condemn you for countless wicked deeds you’ve done to win his love instead of taking you out to lunch or sending you flowers to your office? Male lead, focus on the female protagonist so that you could focus on what you need to do to survive!

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

[pinetreevillain]

Parts 1-5 of Greenline are currently available on my ko-fi and patreon!

[ghost-bxrd]

Stony silence rings from the other end of the line, but Jason knows Bruce is listening. Listening and running through several possibilities of how someone could have gotten this number while simultaneously tracking the call signal.

This is gonna be fucking gold.

Time to sell it.

“Dad,” he sobs, pitching his voice until it breaks, teeth chattering exaggeratedly, “Dad, please, I’m scared, I-“ Jason cuts himself off with a scream and another series of sobs, “Please, I can’t— it’s locked! Please, no, Dad, it’s locked—“

A sharp intake of breath, the dull thump of something heavy colliding unexpectedly.

“Dad!” Jason cries, calling upon every single drama class he’s ever had, “Please… please- it’s almost to zero- please, I’m sorry, please, please, it hurts so much-“

Bruce breaks.

“Jason, Jason, hold on Jaylad, hold on, I will find-“

Jason smashes the phone against the marble dress of the creepy angel standing guard over his grave. The pieces vanish into the wet grass, like an occult offering eaten by Gotham’s soil.

Then Jason turns and walks away with a gleeful little smile.

But not without flipping the stupid angel off one last time.

— Grave Pretender sneak peek

[shopwitchvamp]

Test prints of new @vetiverfox joggers~

These will go up on Witch Vamp next month, just in time for Halloween 🃏✨

[blueboyluca]

It's been a hard road with you, little gem, but the future is bright and sparkling for us now. Happy first birthday, I love you so much.

I went digging in the dirt and found a shiny gem called Topaz.

[loupetlapinn]

What do you think about mingyu and gun play? Cause I like to think about him pulling it out when you least expect it so it scares you a bit (he finds that hot)

anon it’s like you peeked at my wips. mingyu and gunplay go together like whipped cream and cherries atop an ice cream sundae.

listen. listen. listen.

Ok, you got me. He’s insane. Also, I’m insane. I’m going off of barely any sleep. I’m delirious. Rabid even. So you know what, so is he.

I know, we all like to harp on his size kink. We like to think it’s a given, which it is in this case. He likes to use it to his advantage. He likes the hesitant look in your eye when he gets rough, like you want to say something but you second guess yourself and let him do what he wants. Because what are you going to do? Stop him? Mingyu? When have you ever told him no before anyways? Who could say no to him?

He’s the type to like to play fight just to end up pinning you down and fucking you stupid.

“You’re so silly, Y/N,” he mocks with a brutal snap of his hips, making you jerk beneath him. “What did you think you’d actually accomplish?”

He’s always bending you into so many different positions, throwing you around like you weigh absolutely nothing.

It only excites him further when he surprises you, gun nudging against your cheek. He swore he’s never gotten hard this fucking quick before, in fact, he swears he’s never been this hard ever actually.

“Wanna play a game?” eyes glimmering as his body seems to be trembling with excitement. You’re not so sure you share the same sentiments. “It’ll be fun.”

“I promise.”

yeah…

[focusontheheart]

We're so excited to partner with Kirsty @kirstals for this early preview! Join us this Saturday on Twitch at twitch.tv/Kirstals_ !! Kirsty will be playing through the prologue, and then hosting a Q&A session afterwards with some of the Leads! We can't wait to see you there!

[simplykorra]

ava + every episode - episode 3: "ephesians 6:11"

[primarinite]

being an enjoyer of these stupid cunts is so hard

[chernabogs]

ERLKÖNIG

Inc: Malleus (/Reader later on), Reader/Prefect, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and a lot of fae who should not be in this dimension yet somehow are. Wc: Roughly 9k (Currently sitting at chapter 2/23). Warnings: Violence, reference to war, kidnapping, rituals that fae allegedly did in mythology (wild), psychological horror, body horror (not until much later), and the boys are fighting... a lot. Relies heavily on ancient Celtic and Welsh lore (Tam Lin, Thomas the Rhymer, and Oisin I owe u my life) Summary: Your first encounter with the fae was not in Twisted Wonderland, but rather on the coast of a village your grandmother once lived in—where stones bit into your bare feet and the water poured into your lungs as you were pulled to a world so different from your own. It was by cunning alone that you managed to escape, having since pushed those memories aside. But the fae do not forget—not even when you cross dimensions once more—and as Beltane looms, the time for collecting is near.

Chapter 1 (Prologue) below the cut. Check out the work up to chapter 2 here!

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill's side.

-  La Belle Dame sans Merci, Keats

19??, Dunhill, Ireland. October.

There is an unsettling truth behind the superstitions we hold. After all, why else do we face horseshoes upright, or close our blinds when the sun begins to set? We did not learn to play mute when we hear our names get called at night for no reason, nor did we discover on a whim that blackbirds circling are harbingers of ill outcomes.  

Your grandmother was a woman of superstition. Because she lived in Dunhill, Ireland, you very rarely had the opportunity to see her growing up. This didn’t mean that you weren’t occasionally shipped out to arrive at her doorstep for a few weeks at a time over the summer months.

Your memories of her appearance are mostly flashes of the few moments you saw her. Knotted joints on her body, silver hair hidden behind a headscarf she always wore, and the way her shoulders would stoop with each shuffling step she took. What you remember more vividly was the way she acted when the two of you went out. Her trembling hands—Parkinson’s, you think your parent may have mentioned—would always press an iron nail into yours to put in your pocket before you departed.

“They like to wait on the coastlines,” she had murmured when you asked why she gave this to you. “And they’ll like you the most.”

She would not offer any further information, nor would she let you out until the nail was securely tucked away. Despite how slowly she would move on your many walks along Benvoy Beach, you never once failed to miss the way her sharp gaze would always be fixated on the unruly seas beyond.

She dies when you’re ten years old. Her funeral is a vivid affair. Your grandmother’s humble home has been transformed into a centre of traffic within a matter of hours since her passing, barely giving your family a moment to breathe despite catching the red-eye flight earlier that day. People you have never seen before shaking your small hand and offering their condolences. The strong fragrance of unknown flowers and cheap perfume fills each room, suffocating out any last semblance of your grandmother that may have still lingered. It feels more like they’re spitting on her memory than honouring it. You know your grandmother—she is, was, a quiet woman, and not one for all this pomp and circumstance.

Perhaps this is why no one notices when you sneak out and down the rocky hills.

You slip on several rocks and scrape up your hands really good by the time your feet hit the familiar sandy beach below. With the way the sun is beginning to set, the waters seem to be a wine-red color, swirling in their chaotic fervour to reach the earth you stand on. You pause to take several breaths before kicking your shoes off and stepping forward into that hungry sea.

Your parent will be furious at you for dirtying up your formal garb, but this isn’t at the forefront of your mind right now as your eyes slide shut and you stretch your arms wide. You feel the wind rush along your body and the fragrance of salt overtake you as you spill your grief into the vast waters, letting it mix and swirl into that abyss for a moment of catharsis.

It’s when the wind carries the scent of something pungent that your eyes snap open again. The foulness is brief, and for a moment you write it off as simply a byproduct of the ocean, until it returns again stronger than before. It smothers the brine and has your head turning to look around for the source. You look over your left shoulder at the empty beach around you. The sun continues to set, and your gaze tracks the path of a gull flying overhead before you look over your shoulder once more.

This time, someone is waiting.  

There is an unsettling truth behind the superstitions we hold. The reason why we are scared of things that try to look like us, why we try so hard to ward them off, is because we know that anything that wants to be like a human certainly has no good intent in their heart. This is the case for the figure you see standing on the beach.

They’re wearing the same dark funeral garb you had seen the others in your grandmother’s home wearing. A wide-brimmed hat sits upon their head to conceal most of their features, although you can see scarlet hairs peeking out, and their hands appear to be clasped behind their back as they stand stoically ahead. Despite the winds that bite at your cheeks, not a single scrap of fabric on the figure’s body moves. It’s as though they’re cut from a painting and placed in real life.

You both observe each other in silence. You can feel your body locking up as your mind chants to you wrong, wrong, wrong, over and over again like a mantra. Your right hand drifts down to your pant pocket—you did not take a nail with you before you left the home.

They like to wait on the coastlines, and they’ll like you the most.

Your breath catches in your throat.

The figure smiles—black, sharp, and not quite human. 

Something in your gut tells you to run and you, even as a rebellious child, do as you’re told. Your body twists around to scramble towards the rocks as your feet slip in the wet sand. You completely discard grabbing your shoes in your haste to get away, fully accepting the agony that the stones ripping into your soles will bring as consequence.

You don’t get very far. Whatever is on the beach with you is far quicker than you will ever be. Within moments of you turning, its cold fingers dig into your shoulders. You scream—cry—as the figure leans down and the pungent aroma of rotting fish emanates with each breath it exhales. You thrash and twist in its grip until you face each other, and you lock eyes with her.  

She looks exactly as she did the last time you saw each other. Same knotted limbs, same silvery hairs, same stoop of her shoulders.

She stares down at you. The wind whips the loose strands of her hair around her face, and her eyes are the cloudy blue of the dead as something begins to claw in your mind. You watch as her thin and cracking lips form the syllables to your name—but it’s lost to the roar of an ever-cacophonous sea. The ground surges up around you, wrapping thorns—thorns? —around your legs. They bite into your skin, draw ruby gems from beneath your frigid flesh, and when you lift your head again, your grandmother merely continues to wear her blackened smile at the sight.

You cry out once more, but just like your name, your pleas are stolen away by the winds.

Everything lasts all but a few moments before the sea finally reaches what it has been clawing for. 

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

Hey! I love your ososan art! :) I found this on Pinterest and immediately thought of you, so... here!

Hold on hold on hold on

theeeeeere we goooooooooo~

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Red Letters to Nowhere spicy sneak peek ~ (Stepbro!Billy x Mayfield!Reader) Summary: Tension has been building between you and Billy since you and your little sister, Max, moved in. You never know quite where you stand with him, and you could swear he's flirting with you at least half of the time. It's about time he made his intentions clear...

[No smut, slight NSFW below the cut, 18 +, MDNI as usual ✨]

You had spent the last few hours studying in your room. A lazy Saturday with Max being out with her new friends, your mom and Neil taking another shopping trip to the city, and Billy having weekend practice for the upcoming tournament gave you the house to yourself. You were enjoying the space and freedom, paying bits of attention to the radio droning in the background and making sure you were up to speed for Mrs. Click’s quiz on Monday.

Hearing the familiar sounds of keys jingling, you checked the clock on your bedside table and knew it was Billy returning home from his practice. Your door was open, but he didn’t seem to notice you there as he stalked to his room.

Your doors faced each other at both ends of the hallway with the bathroom in between, so you had an immaculate view when he peeled off his shirt and tossed it to to the ground, the muscles in his back creasing in symmetry as he stretched, his broad shoulders moving in time with his arms as he brought his hands together, clasping his palms and pushing them forward.

You didn’t even realize you were staring, mouth fully agape, taking in the sheen of sweat sprinkled across his golden skin, the dip in his lower back where his waistband sat just below, and the definition in his strong calves as he went through the motions of stretching out his hamstrings, still facing away from you.

You wanted him.

Wasn’t that wrong on some level? Of course you’re not actually related, but what would he think if he knew? Did he know?

You averted your eyes immediately as he dropped his shorts to the floor, covering your mouth and turning to face the other way in your chair. Your entire body tensed as you tried not to make a single sound for fear that he would notice you and put two and two together.

You didn’t look at him naked, at least. That would’ve been too far, and you didn���t want to disrespect Billy, your new step brother, who had been so kind to you despite the reputation he seemed to have with everyone else.

You heard Billy’s bare footsteps padding up the hallway, so you turned back to face his direction once again. Damp, messy curls framed his face, a green towel secured around his waist, and a knowing smirk resting just above his sharp jawline, he shot you a wink before turning into the bathroom and closing the door. Your cheeks seared with panic as you tried to process what you just experienced.

He had to have known you were looking at him. He obviously knew. Did he do that on purpose? You tried your best to refocus on your studies, but it was no use. You heard the sprinkling of the shower in the next room and couldn’t stop fighting with yourself over confronting Billy about what he had just done.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had been busying yourself with folding your laundry while your mind turned the idea of Billy wanting you to see him like that over and over. You had resolved not to address anything with him right now, but to wait it out just to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

You had just moved here, and you didn’t want to make things awkward for the family. You especially didn’t want to get Billy in trouble with Neil. You folded another Van Halen t-shirt and added it to the neat pile of folded shirts on your stripped mattress. You heard the buzzer on the dryer go off, signaling that your sheets were ready for pickup, and you turned toward the doorway.

“Jesus, Billy!” You jumped when you saw Billy leaning on your doorframe wordlessly, his hair dripping tiny water droplets onto his shoulders that hung like dewdrops on his chest, smirk still in place with his towel around his waist. “How long have you been standing there?”

He scoffed and looked toward the ceiling. “Long enough,” he said simply. His eyes met yours, dark with something you couldn’t quite identify, and you felt the scarlet heat creeping back up to your cheeks, forcing you to look at anything else in the room.

“Did you need something?” He took his hand down from the doorframe and stepped closer to you, still blocking the exit to your room.

“Did you?” His voice darkened, and as he neared where you stood, you could see that his pupils were blown out. He was close enough for you to touch him at that point, and you ached for him. You wondered what would happen if – 

“Correct me if I’m out of line, Y/N. But I swear you look at me like you want something from me. Am I wrong?” His eyes burned into yours, his gaze never wavering as he asked the most candid question he could without really giving it away. You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn’t get you into trouble if you were somehow misinterpreting things.

“No,” you finally replied sheepishly. “You’re not wrong. But Billy –”

“I thought so,” he murmured, his jaw clenching. You were afraid of his reaction. You couldn’t tell if he was about to fly off the handle, and you could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. “I notice you watching me, you know,” he continued, his words like suede slathered in melted honey.

“Billy, please. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m not trying to –” He took another step toward you so that your noses were almost touching.

“And you don’t know it, but I watch you, too. I can’t help it. The way you pretend to have your nose in a book on the swing in the front yard, stealing glances at me working on my car. Do you ever wonder why I have my shirt off in October?” He chuckled, looking around the room. You really hadn’t put those pieces together.

“Billy –”

“What if I want something from you, too?” he drawled, his gaze gliding over your lips before meeting your eyes once more. “What if, every night while I’m lying in bed alone in the dark, I’m thinking of your strawberry perfume and the dimples in your cheeks when you try not to smile every time I say some smartass shit? What if I count your curves instead of sheep while I try to sleep?”

His husky voice was barely above a whisper. He looked down and hissed out a small laugh. “You don’t think I notice that you leave your door cracked every time you change your clothes or that I know for a fact you’re wearing a black lace-trimmed bra and matching panties right now?” His tongue trailed over his bottom lip as he eyed you up and down.

You were completely speechless. Your mind was working a million miles a second trying to piece together all of the what-ifs and scenarios that could come of what you two were about to do, and you knew he was waiting for your answer.

“Billy, we can’t –”

“Can’t what?  Have fun?” His devilish grin was torture to your core, and you couldn’t help but echo his expression. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” He ghosted his lips over yours while he spoke, and you were immediately intoxicated by the scent of his honey shampoo and the remnants of mint gum.

“Pinky promise?” You held your pinky out for him to take, confident he wouldn’t buy into your childish game, and you were shocked when he held his hand up, dropping his towel to the floor, and hooked his pinky with yours.

“Pinky promise, babe.” He lit up his blinding smile, knowing there was no turning back, and tugged at the hem of your sweater, helping to lift it over your head. “Good thing you haven’t put those nice, clean sheets back on yet,” he teased before connecting his lips with yours, warm, wet, and insatiable.

You had no idea how this would end, but in that moment, neither of you cared. All you knew was no one else would be home for hours, and you both needed what was coming after the last month of agonizing sexual tension, somehow kept a sweet secret between the two of you.

*This is a republish of my original preview because I CANNOT find the old post no matter how hard I try.

[ghost-bxrd]

There’s a crash behind him and Dick spins on his heels, instantly on guard— only to be met with Jason’s wide eyed stare.

He sighs, relaxing again. Seriously, what’s with this kid, “Hey, Jason. Know where Bruce is? I need some assistance with a… recent case.”

What case, is what he expects Jason to ask. Or maybe just tell Dick to piss off. It’s always a toss up with Jason.

He does not expect for the boy’s gaze to become downright apprehensive. Which is a novel look on the kid Dick really doesn’t like. Jason doesn’t do apprehensive, he jumpst straight to hostile.

“Hey, buddy,” Dick takes a slow step forward, an inkling of worry creeping into his mind , “You okay? Did something happen?

Jason shies away and Dick stops dead, hands held out placatingly.

“It’s okay, I’m not coming closer. What happened? Are you hurt?” Because something clearly must have happened for Jason to be so wary all of a sudden. Last time Dick remembers seeing him Jason was still his usual spitfire self.

Jason’s expression shudders, a multitude of emotions there and gone in a flash before he opens his mouth and—

Dick blinks, tilting his head slightly at the weird sound that comes out of the boy’s throat. Something like a high pitched chirp more reminiscent of a bird than a human being. Soft, almost musical in quality.

Jason keeps staring at him after, something expectant in his gaze that becomes progressively more upset with each passing second.

“Uhm,” Dick says eloquently, unsure what to do, “That’s a cool… thing you did there. Did B teach you?”

Something about that must have been the wrong thing to say because Jason’s face drops from wary trepidation into outright terror.

— Owl Song pt. IX sneak peek 🦉