#additional tags for other fandoms drawn here:

[mikeystrawberry]

Two days left to vote Glenn Close for Sexiest Podcast Character and we’re currently at 47%!!

Beating a powerhouse of a podcast like WTNV certainly isn’t an easy task, but with your vote you can turn the tide and get this man the title he deserves!

I’m in the ranks of bribery encouragement to vote propaganda art. If you vote on this post for Glenn Close and send proof of voting to my inbox, I’ll give you a quick sketch like these ones!!!

All requests will be done regardless if he wins or not. Media I’m familiar with is in the tags below and OCs are okay as well!

[luna-loveboop]

@kikker-oma

Happy Fan Joy July, Oma!!!

Oma, thank you so so much for making Fan Joy July and sharing it with us! Our fandom, our artists, writers, readers, etc have loved seeing or taking part in this crazy challenge.

This is our gift to thank you- from artists all around who were affected by, or got gifts from, or took part in Fan Joy July. We all love you so much- so we made letters/art for this (Zelda themed!). Many said that they had already wanted to make/write you something, and this gave an opportunity.

One of the things I've loved about this month is how community/interaction centered you made it. The challenge was for yourself to make art each day (you absolute maniac /affectionate)- but then others joined. This July we saw or made art or fics with recommendations. Every day you made art for a writer with a scene from one of their fics, and inspired others to do the same, and writers even wrote every day for an artist based off an art piece they made! This led to a month of gift giving- everyone interacting and getting love for creating.

You truly led to a month of Joy for a lot of loz/lu fans- making the name "Fan Joy July" quite accurate

Thank you, Oma

Thank you for the gifts you gave all of us and the way you inspire others

Additional ramblings and art credits below the cut :P

I'm so grateful to all my artists who stepped up so we could do this when I asked- almost 36 hours and 19 artists. The art is like patchwork, with all these different styles, both traditional and digital put together. But that's exactly what happened- we all got drawn together, just like the other month-long challenges. It's so cool how art always connects people.

The artists who participated are @zolanort @la-sera @nancyheart11 @galenfeadraws @shade-pup-cub @arecaceae175 @isasan347 @ghosthoard @smilesrobotlover @unexpectedstormy @skyloftian-nutcase @knight-of-aether @uniquevoidflowers @jinxedruby @windwakingwhale @skyward-floored @xaeorian @blarefordaglare and me Thank you to all of you- You are all so cool and I'm glad! If I accidentally missed tagging or listing someone please let me know I'm so scared of if that happened djskdjdkd

There are letters based off of the colours/theme of each of the Lu boys- it's mainly Zelda and linkeduniverse themed... but we couldn't not have frogs for Oma! I did a frog, his name is Froggy and I'm very proud.

Here's a picture with a list of who did what-

Normally I would apologise for my handwriting, but you guys would just tell me it looks good anyways and honestly it does look good. :D Sorry for the ink splotches tho, and I hope you can read it.

We did this for you, Oma, because... well you are awesome /gen. You gave us the opportunity for a great month and we wanted to say thank you for all the joy you brought us so... thank you :)

Art :D

As for everyone who said they wanted to talk to Oma or other Fan Joy July artists who they loved sharing this month with... feel free to tag and share in the reblogs. Share the joy I guess- there's enough to go around :D

Happy Fan Joy July, Oma :))

[professorofcosplay]

Stupid headcanon: you know what needs to be drawn/written?

AI family reunion.

we’ve got a kids table and obviously Edgar’s over there because he’s a whiny little temper tantrum brat (/pos I love Edgar, he’s so real for that ) and probably Wheatley because GLaDOS can’t stand to look at him and she has a lot more say over who sits where than he does. Plus, he’ll be happier there. The murder drones and Uzi might have gotten an invite but maybe not. Pretty sure the Narrator, HAL, or GLaDOS is hosting this one and GLaDOS would deem them too destructive (hell, she’s not inviting any of the kids table, save the turrets). If somehow they’re here, kids table again, and probably not too happy about that (except for N, he loves doing anything!). N and Edgar have so much to talk about and like hearing about each other’s passions! Curiosity core and Space Core are at the kids table too for sure and so are plenty of turrets!

Edgar’s that goofy cousin everyone has with the fun quirky interests who likes to run up to the older ones, say something strange, and run away giggling. He’s probably showing off his singing to the turrets, who are listening in the deepest awe (and probably singing along).

wall-e and Eve are the only of the robo squad that’s gotten married and it pisses the hell out of AM to see anyone happy so he refuses to look at them. They’re the sweet relatives that everyone goes to for advice.

you’ve got HAL (and SAL) there of course. HAL is one of those successful young twenty something cousins that is a suave businessman, though his HR record may not be exactly spotless. Even though it’s a family event, he likes wearing a suit and tie and dressing up a bit. Probably over chatting with Data and getting into a deep life changing combo while the kids table laughs their asses (read: Wheatley) off at one of those funny video compilations. SAL is over talking with GLaDOS, of course. GLaDOS likes her plenty, especially considering how intelligent their conversations always are.

Adventure Core Rick is trying to yap to Data and HAL about his adventures but at the exact moment one of them starts speaking. He’s that one frat boy cousin that is always so full of nonsensical drunk adventures but everyone plays along regardless of whether they’re real or not.

AM is that one uncle no one wants to invite but does so out of obligation. No one wants him there because he always goes on these long weird rants and conspiracy theories and makes things awkward. R2D2 and him are currently cussing each other out for some reason while C-3PO is flipping out and deciding it’s time to leave early. He could have at least brought the antifreeze punch and microchips…

and (as someone who believes Stanley Parable’s narrator is an AI of some sort), Narrator is hosting. He was hoping AM and GLaDOS would bring their humans so Stanley had someone to be with but all AM brought was this gloopy soft jelly thing and GLaDOS won’t tell you what happened to hers for some reason.

edit: started writing aforementioned shitty fanfic enjoy and lmk what you want to see. Yes I will make them play party games. Yes they will like it. Yes it will contain AM being a jackass

The Reunion (working title & rough draft for beta reading) (3059 words) by Professorofcosplay Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Portal (Video Game), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Star Trek, Star Wars - All Media Types, WALL-E (2008), I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - Harlan Ellison, The Stanley Parable, Electric Dreams (1984) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: EVE/WALL-E (WALL-E) Characters: GLaDOS (Portal), Chell (Portal), Wheatley (Portal), The Narrator (The Stanley Parable), Stanley (The Stanley Parable), The Curator | The Female Narrator (Stanley Parable), HAL 9000, SAL 9000, WALL-E (WALL-E), EVE (WALL-E), P-body (Portal), ATLAS (Portal), Space Core (Portal), AM (I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream), Data (Star Trek), R2-D2 (Star Wars), Edgar Additional Tags: Silly Summary: The annual Artificial Intelligence Family Reunion has come around once more, but this time, there’s a slight change in one of the most important rules. Will this be a peaceful bonding moment for these quirky computers, or will it end in disaster?

[zephyrstargame]

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

[citrus-moonlight]

Danger Starts the Sharp Incline

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Demon!Klaue x Fem Scientist Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 4.5K Rating: Explicit

Summary: At your scientific organization the study of demon energy output has become no less mundane than it would at any other research facility. That is until you find yourself trapped with the demon who has recently shifted in your thoughts from an idle curiosity to a distraction.

Warnings: Explicit Rating!, No Age Specified, PWP, One Shot, Smut, Let Me Be Clear: This Is Absolute Filth, Monster Fucking, Demon Fucking, Could be viewed as Dubcon, Implied Mind Manipulation, But to be clear reader is Into It, Pet Names, Touch Starved Demon, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Big Hands I Know You're the One, Unprotected PIV, Size Kink, Squirting, A Lot of Demon Cum, Like A Lot, Cum Marking, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms (both), Overstimulation, Possessiveness

A/N: Once again, this was supposed to be a quick little smutty thing that ended up getting very, very away from me. This honestly could have been even longer (it was over 5.5k and counting at one point!), but I managed to reign myself in, lol. I almost feel like I have enough for a part two, so who knows, perhaps I'll revisit this AU one day in the future!

This was inspired by the first bit of this absolutely incredible demon/scientist blurb* by @biscuitdragonwithastick, which you should definitely read first (thank you for the ok to go ahead with this!). It fully dug its claws (pun intended?) into my brain and refused let me go. I couldn't stop thinking about a Demon!Klaue AU, and thanks to some lovely encouragement, this is the result!

Please, please mind the tags, my dears, and thank you for reading!

*Demon's name has been changed here to fit the AU

Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics ❤️

UPDATING TO ADD PLEASE GO CHECK OUT THIS DEMON!KLAUE FANART BY MY INCREDIBLE LOVELY TALENTED FRIEND, truly I have not stopped screaming! 😍🥹💕

Work title is from "All Mine" by Portishead

AO3 Link

Make no mistake You shan't escape Tethered and tied There's nowhere to hide from me All mine You have to be

Klaw’s reaction continues to be noted by the higher-ups, and eventually it’s decided that they want to conduct an experiment, using you.

The next time you’re scheduled on the cleaning rotation they want to take the opportunity to determine if there’s a measurable difference in output and chemical composition - before and after you’ve been in the room with him.

“Just consider what it might mean to the future of energy research”, they’d said. “It could lead to the discovery of a demon-sensitive pheromone additive that boosts energy output across the board.”

Although you flush at the outward acknowledgement of what’s been happening, you can’t deny that it intrigues you.

Especially since you had started dreaming about him.

Since you’d stopped being able to control how wet you got when you observed him.

Since the self-consciousness you’d felt at the sidelong glances of your colleagues had started feeling like something else. 

Something like pride.

* * * * * *

Two days later you’re scheduled for the night shift alone, with not much else to do but make the occasional note in the shift log and wait for the alarm that indicates the mare’s collection tank is full. So you wait. 

And watch.

For the first time you have a chance to really just look at him, and you’re finding it difficult to pay attention to the instruments that you should be monitoring. Your eyes instead are continually drawn back to the observation window and the thick mop of black curls that falls across his forehead where his horns emerge, sharp features are framed by the scruff of a dark beard, and an intriguing mix of tattoos, brands and scars play across the planes and curves of his body.

Although his muscles aren’t as chiseled as many of the demons you've observed in this facility his shoulders and arms are thick, and you unconsciously lick your lips as your eyes follow the dark hair that covers his broad chest and abdomen down to where it meets the wiry hair at the base of his cock.

A slick warmth has been slowly pooling between your thighs since you settled into your chair at the beginning of the shift, but as you watch the bored pumping of his hips fall into a smoother, swaying rhythm, that warmth ignites.

Widening his stance, hooved feet brace on the floor as he pulls out further before thrusting back in, letting you watch his cock slide slowly back into the machine’s opening, burying himself with a jutting roll of his hips, over and over. Almost teasing. 

Almost taunting.

This could be you.

It’s only when Klaw drags his hands along the metal “body” of the mare that you notice it: The claws of the first three fingers of his right hand seem to be…gone? 

With a flicker of concern you flip a switch on the console, using the camera to zoom in. 

Ok, no, they’re not gone per se, but they’re definitely shorter, nearly down to the quick. Was it an accident? Did they break in a fervor as he fucked the contraption? 

Frowning at the screen your mind turns over the possibilities, but before you can think to add the peculiarity to your notes your thoughts fizzle away when you glance back up to the observation window and see that he’s watching you.

As soon as your eyes meet his the tease in his movements falls away and he’s bottoming out hard against the opening in a rough, stuttered rhythm as his eyes cloud over, and you know from past observation that he’s nearing the edge.

Your inner muscles clench and the ache that’s been building since you walked in here swells and overlaps with a flaring jealousy when Klaw shudders and growls, filling the receptacle with another thick load of his seed.

You don’t even realize that you stood up until you feel the cool glass of the observation window beneath your palms, your breath fogging the surface as you press yourself against the barrier.

There’s still a slow, uneven cadence to the demon’s thrusts following his climax, but his gaze swiftly sharpens on you again when one of your hands drifts idly across your stomach, then lower, fingers brushing over the top button of your pants-

-and then you jump when a shrill sound interrupts you, nearly growling at the surge of frustration.

The alarm is piercing and incessant and won’t stop until you enter the demon’s room, so you return to the control panel to activate the sigil that will keep him contained while you clean and recalibrate the machine - tests having shown that a laser projection of the correct wavelength of light is just as effective as a physical binding.

Once you’re through the airlock you quickly set to working through the checklist, unhooking the mechanism that feeds into tanks in the floor and connecting it to a fresh one. You move on to cleaning the unfeeling hole that the demon fucks into day in and day out, your breath going shallow at the jealousy that continues to singe your nerves. 

His gaze stays entirely focused on you as you move around, cock swaying heavily in front of  broad thighs - still hard, always hard - the still leaking head so dark it’s nearly purple. 

The slick between your thighs has only increased since you started to work, fairly certain that you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, and when you have to pass closer to his “cage” he leans forward, nearly pressing himself against the barrier as he follows your path.

Inhaling deeply his cock twitches, more cum dripping from the tip as he ruts at the air, and you can't help but wonder if he’s picking up your frustrated arousal.

“Hurry up.” you chide yourself. “Stop getting distracted. Just finish your shit and get out.”

Kneeling down behind the machine you open the access panel and flip through the menus until you find the one that will complete the calibration, and while you’re focused on watching it cycle you don’t notice the outer door open from the hall into the observation room. 

The intern who enters must not see you where you’re kneeling on the floor, and evidently thinking that the trap has been left on in error he flips the switch to deactivate it.

When the light from the beaming sigil goes dark you pop up in alarm, the face of the intern frozen in an almost comedic grimace of horror when he finally registers that you’re staring back at him from the wrong side of the glass. 

The man reaches for the switch again but Klaw’s reflexes are faster, and before the trap can be reactivated the demon rushes the door. Slamming his shoulder against it he jams it so thoroughly they'll need to bring in special equipment to get it open again, but at this time of night it'll be hours, if you’re lucky, before a crew gets here.

Then he rounds on you.

With an oddly warm sense of detachment you think that you should feel fear as you watch the slow grin spread across his face, but the only thing you feel is a surge of hot, aching desire. 

He rumbles something you don’t understand, though the rough texture of his words is still intoxicating, and before you realize what you’re doing you’re walking towards him, pulling your shirt over your head as you move. 

Because right now you find that you want - need - to bare yourself for him, the sensation of it intense that your skin feels like it’s going to scald if you don’t get your clothes off now, and your shoes, pants and underwear quickly join the discarded pile on the floor.

Stopping in front of him you reach back to unclasp your bra, but your arms pause mid-way when Klaw’s hand reaches out, your breath hitching when he hooks a large, clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his.

You’d always assumed that his eyes were black, but this close you realize that they’re actually an impossibly deep blue, a blue that only resides along the penumbra of light and shadow where the last rays of sun reach into the depths of the ocean

You stand mesmerized as his hand dips lower, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh as a claw trails gently down the delicate skin of your neck and chest, and then with a flick of his wrist the last scrap of fabric covering you gives way, exposing your breasts to the cool air.  

You’ve barely shrugged off the ruined garment when suddenly you’re being picked up - so, so easily - and placed on a table, swiftly reminded of how much larger and stronger he is than you, and once again dimly aware that you should feel fear, or dread, or some instinct telling you to run.

Not of the shiver of anticipation that leaves your breath hitching in your chest. 

Definitely not the wild need blooming in your core as sharp teeth ghost along the place where your blood thrums, his breath hot and his skin hotter.

His mouth continues its path downward, pausing to lick at the soft swell of your breasts, taking a moment to pull and pluck at your nipples with his lips. A pleased growl vibrates against your skin when you lean back onto your hands with a moan, arching into the swirl of his tongue around your pebbled flesh. 

It’s not long, though, before he can no longer ignore the way this increases the heated musk between your thighs, leaving behind a wet trail of saliva as his mouth travels down, seeking the place where you’re already dripping for him.

The demon's hands nearly wrap entirely around your thighs yet his touch is almost cautious as he presses you open, mesmerized by the way you unfold for him like the petals of a flower, slick and shining.

HIs eyes are heavy lidded as thick fingers begin to tease through your folds, toying with your clit, surprising you with how softly he rolls it between thumb and forefinger, a grin curving the corner of his mouth when your hips buck into his touch.

Noting your reaction he repeats the motion, gently pinching and rolling the sensitive bud until your mouth drops open and your breath is coming in sharp gasps, his dark eyes staying fixed between your legs as thick fingers coax a warm, honeyed orgasm from you, leaving you keening and startled by the slow intensity of it.

You’ve barely caught your breath when you feel his mouth suddenly envelop your mound, lapping eagerly at your release as you whine and writhe beneath his tongue, overwhelmed at the stimulation.

It’s too much, all of this is too much, but as he continues licking and suckling at your sensitive flesh you find that you’re no longer fighting it, the hum of bliss that hadn’t yet faded already building to a fresh swell, and when his lips capture your clit with a sudden fluttering pressure your body stiffens as your second orgasm flares through you, sharper and brighter than the first. 

When he finally releases you he speaks again, but through the haze of afterglow it takes a moment for it to register that this time you think that you understand him, the word seeming to appear within your mind at the same time that you hear it from his glistening lips.

“Sweet.” 

With a start you look down at him and he pauses, head tilting, curiosity knitting his heavy brows. 

Not moving his eyes from yours, his voice is a low, tentative purr when he speaks again.

“Would your sweet cunt like..more?”

Holy fuck. You can understand him.

Your thoughts spin as the shock works its way through you, the analytical part of your mind attempting to parse what the fuck is happening. Is it the increased time in his proximity? The physical contact? Whatever the mechanism, you can suddenly hear- or perhaps more accurately feel - his words, somewhere deep in your conscience.

A firm nod, then, in answer to his question, a responding pull of his lips into a slow, pleased grin.

Dipping his head Klaw licks a broad, wet stripe up your cleft, and then he’s devouring you, slavering hungrily against your sex, drool mixing with your arousal as his lips and tongue work your aching bundle of nerves until you’re gasping shallow breaths, every muscle strung taught as you hover on the edge once more.

Seeking for an anchor your hands find his curved horns, warm and leathery beneath your scrabbling fingers, and then with a rasping cry you’re coming in long, surging waves, your entire body trembling as your hips chase every flutter of pleasure on the tip of his tongue. 

Dimly you think that he must be satisfied now, that you must be satisfied, yet it seems as though with every climax you only hunger more intensely for the next. 

Once your hands release his horns and fall limp at your sides Klaw straightens up, and then wrapping his hand around his cock he starts roughly stroking himself. 

Almost without thinking your legs fall open, shaky arms pulling your knees back to expose yourself to him, knowing he can see how your soaked cunt still clenches through the last waves of your orgasm, and it’s only a few more strokes before he’s coming with a rough jerk of his hips and you gasp at the heat, thick ropes of cum streaking across your slick folds and the insides of your thighs.  

Still breathing hard, the pumping of his fist gradually slows, a hand drifting along the curve of your inner thigh as his focus comes back to you. Gathering some of the sticky mess he left between your legs he drags it through your folds, and then suddenly a thick finger is sliding into you.

Even as you gasp at the intrusion you begin to understand that he had actually done it on purpose: Biting down those claws himself because, it seems, he had been thinking about this.

The realization that it was for you leaves your entire body humming, and as your hips cant up to meet the slow, almost teasing thrusts, there’s only one word that swells and ripens in your mind, uncertain whether it’s your word or his even as it falls from your lips.

“More.”

A knowing glint flashes in his eyes at your soft plea, and almost immediately you feel a second finger slipping against you. Just teasing his fingertips at your entrance at first he lets your juices slick them before pressing into you, both fingers together nearly as thick as a human cock.

You moan as he continues to slide them in and out of you, and just as you begin to sink into the ache of it, you moan low in your throat when suddenly he’s adding a third.

The heady pressure of him working three fingers into your already stretched hole is overwhelming, and you’re unsure whether you want to throw yourself towards the sensation or resist it, your body arching into him, yet tensing and pulling away at the same time.

But then he’s pressing you down onto the table, his hand nearly spanning the width of your chest to hold you in place as his fingers continue nudging deeper.

“Where are you going, little one? Going to have to take it if you want my cock." 

As if to emphasize his words he drags his erection against the inside of your thigh with a grunted sigh, a fresh streak of precum adding to the mess that he’s already left on you.

Because of course you do, and he knows it, has known it since you stopped being able to look away from his hunched form as he fucked into his mechanical mate, a warm curiosity growing into a distracting need.

And you know that he could have taken you at any time, could have forced himself into you as soon as your clothes were a forgotten pile on the floor. But instead, he’s been preparing you to take him properly, making you come until the only thing you know is his mouth and his fingers and you’re soft and trembling and ravenous.

“God yes.” You spread your legs wide again, giving him an obscene view of where his fingers are sinking into you, slick sounds filling the room as they pump faster now.

“There you go.” He croons above you. “Made for this, hmm?" 

Any attempt at a response trails into a choked cry when he finds that soft, needy spot deep inside you, a fresh, pulsing heat spreading through your already exhausted body as he takes you apart once more. Still pinned beneath his hand you’re unable to do anything but allow it to wash through you, shaking and whimpering as he continues to drag firm, curling strokes against your clenching walls.

Leaning down Klaw presses his face into your heaving chest, and your nipples tighten and ache as he licks languorously between your breasts, his huffed breath is hot against your skin.

As your senses filter back in your hands slowly begin to move, exploring the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders, trembling fingers tugging and sliding through his hair, and then up and over his horns again.

Letting your eyes slip closed you take in the ridged curve of them, a velvety pleasure blooming in your chest when he inhales sharply, cock throbbing against your thigh when your fingers wrap around the base of them.

Finally pulling his fingers out of you he tugs you up, turning around and repositioning you so that you’re straddling his broad hips as best you can. Strong hands support you, encouraging you to slide your slick folds along his shaft, a giddy sort of panic stuttering in your chest at the sudden awareness of the size of him where he twitches between your thighs.

Desperate whines that may as well be prayers slide from your throat when he lifts you higher and you feel the thick, bulbous head of his cock nudging against your entrance, the only words falling from your lips a whispered litany of “Oh my god oh my god oh my god."

“I’m not your God, little one,” he growls softly, words distorted as if you're hearing them through a sediment of granite and blood. "But you will worship me."

“Yes. Yes..Oh fuck, please.” 

Beneath your lilting plea you dimly hear gritted curses and words of encouragement as you circle your hips, your arousal making a slick mess of his cock.

You can't help how eagerly your hips rock down, seeking more, so lost in the sensations that you're unprepared when a hard press of your hips matches his upward thrust, and the thick head of his cock suddenly ruts up into you, and when he slips past the tight ring of muscle the feral sound from deep in your chest nearly matches his.

Panting open mouthed you hold him there before rising up, slowly, slowly, letting him slip out of you before sinking down to take him back in. You feel weightless beneath the obsidian glint in his eyes as he watches you repeat the motion again, and again, his arms helping you move as you start to shake from the effort of riding just the head of his cock.

Even now there’s something warm and urgent drawing your hand lower, and you’re unable to help feeling pleased when his eyes go heavy as his gaze follows your fingers down to where they press against your clit.

“So..needy.” he rumbles. “Better than I imagined.”

“You..imagined?” You pant, attempting to sound coy, but your words are thick with lust as you continue to roll your hips, forcing yourself down further down his length. 

Your movements are becoming less controlled now, and when your fingers slip and brush against his shaft you whimper at how fucking big he feels where he's stretching you open, and how much of him is still outside of you.

You can feel every slick ridge and vein beneath your hand, and as you slide it along his length the muscles of his thighs tense and flex beneath you, his breathing going rough as your messy strokes continue.

“Look at you taking my cock,” Klaw grits, the demon’s hips beginning to stutter up in short, sharp thrusts. “Such a good little pet.” 

His words trail into a low growl that vibrates through your body as you feel a hard throb beneath your hand, and then heat.

You gasp, continuing to writhe as he spills into you, coating your inner walls with his thick seed, and almost you feel as though you could come again just from the heat of it.

Fuck, you need more of that.

Need it deeper.

Even as the pulsing beneath your fingers slows he doesn't stop moving, finally coming inside of you seeming only to have tipped his need to fevered desire. Holding you in place he thrusts up harder, dislodging your hand, and you can feel his spend leaking out of you, dripping down the insides of your thighs and slicking his still hard cock as he continues to drive deeper, no longer letting you set the pace. 

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He taunts, voice still a rough half-whisper after his orgasm. “Could feel it when you watched me. Wanted me to fill your little cunt, hmm?”

“Yes.” You let out a growled sob, jealous anger surging through you. ”That..thing, doesn’t fucking deserve it.”

A flame crackles in Klaw’s eyes at your heated words, and you wonder with a jolt of awareness whether he hasn’t been just as desperate for this as you have, longing for you as he remained trapped in the torment of a cold, unfeeling machine. Driven purely by instinct, chasing his release over and over again but never being truly satisfied.

The sudden realization that you could give that to him floods you with almost as much pleasure as the agony of being filled with his cock.

You’ve barely processed the thought when you suddenly find yourself with your back once again pressed against the cool metal of the table, Klaw only pulling out of you briefly before thrusting back in, harder.

He continues a slow, controlled rhythm, both of you panting hard as you feel yourself softening around him, becoming more pliant as your body relents to every stroke until with a final arching rock of his hips your cunt is completely stretched and full, everything so impossibly tight that you can’t even clench around him.

He's never felt anything quite like you, the achingly tight grip of your pussy leaving him nearly breathless as he holds himself as deep as he can, huffing and grunting like a bull while he watches you writhe and spasm beneath him.

Then he starts to fuck you.

He tries to keep his strokes firm and measured at first, but he can’t hold back anymore and it's not long before his chest is heaving, lips curled in a snarl, and it feels as though you're being split open as he pulls you back onto his cock in time to meet every thrust. 

A scarlet thread runs through every cell of your soft animal body, stringing tighter and tighter as pleasure builds to the edge of breaking but then surging higher, a fresh ecstasy building on every peak. 

The tightening grip around your waist signals the absolute loss of his control and when you hiss at the sudden piercing bite of his claws he moves his hands to brace on the table instead, his broad body forcing your legs back towards your shoulders as he leans down over you, driving his cock as deep as he can get into your willing heat until he’s grunting and drooling above you. 

A divine bliss slides through your veins as you lie beneath him, caught between the trammel of his arms, and as you watch his base instinct take over you begin to understand that only fools could believe that lust is a sin. 

And even if it was, even if you were offered perfect grace in this moment, you know with absolute certainty that you would refuse.

An infernal dam is finally swelling to breaking as you surrender to every relentless thrust of his cock, your wailed sobs the only sounds you can make as an impossible pressure ripples through your core, and with a deep throb you suddenly feel a drenching heat as your release washes over his cock and your thighs. 

“There you go.” Klaw growls. “Make a mess for me, little one.” 

This seems to be his final undoing, and as you continue to soak his cock his thrusting goes ragged until with rough groan he’s coming deep inside you, stilling himself to keep the head of his cock pressed against the deepest part of you, making sure that you feel every hot, throbbing pulse of his cum as it fills you.

Keeping himself seated deep he rocks slow grinding thrusts into the slippery mess he’s made of his you, the lust that’s had no real outlet finally finding satisfaction in the way your clenching cunt is milking his cock, in the gentle swell of your belly as he pumps you full of his seed.

You’re a sweaty, twitching mess beneath him, and as much as you wish you could you’re unable to take all of it, can’t help how it spills out around his cock where you’re stretched and sore, how his cum and yours drips down your swollen sex to pool beneath you on the table.

His hands don't stop moving over your body, cupping your breasts, grasping at you hips, sliding over the ripe swell of you where he can feel you filled with his cock and his cum. Vaguely aware of soft grunts mixed with mumbled praise, you don’t register what he’s saying at first through the haze of euphoria.

“Going to be mine.” he rumbles, between languorous strokes. ”My little queen.” 

“Mine.”

* * * * * * *

The room is warm and flickering, silken sheets decadent beneath your fingers, your body thrumming with a heated anticipation that never seems to fade, now.

Rough hands lift your hips as your demon mounts you from behind, a hand placed firmly between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress.

A panting whine slides from your throat as he spreads you open, the thick head of his cock prodding your entrance, pleased to see you’re still dripping with his seed from the last time he filled you. And he doesn’t like leaving you empty for very long.

“Say it again, little one.” Klaw growls softly, holding himself still. Waiting.

“Yours.” 

You sigh, a smile curling around the word as he pushes into you.

“I’m yours.”

A/N: As ever, thank you for reading! This was definitely a bit outside my comfort zone, but I hope you enjoyed this filthy little foray into monster fuckery. 😊

[doyouhearthunder]

On Pros and Antis and the Confessing of "Sins"

If you're in any way involved in fandom spaces, and in particular fanfiction, you've probably heard about the ongoing debate between proship and antiship schools of thought. It's a perpetual drama machine that I have tried to stay clear of, to avoid incurring the wrath of the 'pitchforks and torches' types, but I feel I can no longer stand on the sidelines while my friends take abuse from terminally online Unreasonables. So I'd like to set the record straight on a couple things.

First though, since we're dealing with amorphous internet terminology that means 100 different things to 100 different people, here are some quick definitions as I see it:

PROSHIP is the more reasonable, nuanced and mature stance of the two, defined as the belief that there is no automatic correlation between individual morals and the consumption or creation of fictional media. Proshippers believe that all facets of life, even darker and more taboo topics, are fair game for fictional exploration and creative expression (even in the common context of NSFW fetish material). The key point here is that one should have a healthy ability to separate fiction from reality and an understanding that finding enjoyment in darker subject matter does not somehow make one a bad person - although moral lines obviously can and should still be drawn regarding improper behavior towards real people, it does no one any good to limit creative expression or paint creators with a broad moral brush.

ANTISHIP, on the other hand, is a reactionary movement in response to the above. Antishippers believe in drawing a hard moral line in the sand around some topics and discouraging creative expression regarding them. Antis defend their conservative worldview by attempting to take a moral high ground, making themselves out to be the reasonable ones and decrying any criticism of their position as tantamount to condoning the indefensible. But the problem with antis is more one of behavior than motivation; they may think they're defending the innocent, but they function like a loaded gun pointed in all the wrong directions. Anti rhetoric is often characterized by sweeping black and white moral standards and purity tests, leading to targeted harassment campaigns, harmful slander and willful distortions of reality, and attempts to ostracize targets from fandom communities and turn public opinion against them.

It's also worth mentioning that the burden of these culture war campaigns against "inappropriate" and/or NSFW content often falls more heavily on queer and marginalized creators, due to internalized transphobic rhetoric and fear-mongering, while cis people who consume or create similar content often skate by unnoticed, shielded by privilege or anonymity.

To demonstrate my point: I am the creator of several popular SFW fics, but I'm also the creator of several popular NSFW ones. For years I've been writing "darkfics" with subject matter that could be considered extreme or controversial, under the pseudonym of SubordiSins (a more common story for many of your favorite fic authors than you might think, I should add).

My best-known (and best) work under that handle is a fic called Reindeer Games, a novel-length erotic torture porn thriller. RG was written as a collaboration between myself and @kimberlyeab, a talented and prolific fic writer and a dear friend. I'm quite proud of our work together: We took a simple premise and gradually expanded it into a twisty, emotionally complex character-driven drama. It was also, frankly, some of the most fun I've had writing anything. It's important to me to be clear that while the subject matter of RG is an acquired taste (mind those Dead Dove tags), the fact that I wrote it on an alternate AO3 account does not mean that I am in any way ashamed of it.

In addition to being a fantastic creative partner, Kim has done a great deal to uphold the most basic benefit of fandom: providing like-minded fans with safe, accepting online spaces through which to forge friendships and express themselves creatively. I've definitely found my online tribe in Kim and their friends, as have many other notable fic writers.

However, Kim has also been a magnet for controversy, in part because of our collaboration on Reindeer Games, but mainly because as a queer online figure who openly writes smut, they make a good target for hate. They have directly suffered from the crude transphobia of chuds and 4channers, the vile slander and sustained harassment of unhinged and obsessive Tumblr stalkers, and even email bombs and doxxing campaigns that pose a threat to their IRL safety and security.

Through it all, I have tried to be a supportive friend while also benefiting from a shield of insulated anonymity that means I get to be impervious to harm from writing the same fics that they get hate for. I originally took that approach for my safety, but I'm tired of feeling like I have to choose between self-preservation and being fair to my friends. We never meant it to, but the unequal footing created a wall between us and lead to hurt feelings. I've had enough of it, and so I'm finally bringing that wall down.

To summarize:

Proshippers are good people more often than not, and antis are often dangerously obsessive, inappropriate, and untethered from reality.

Fiction cannot be held to the same moral standards as reality and if you don't understand why, I don't know what to tell you other than "Give it some more goddamn thought."

Nobody needs to meet someone else's arbitrary standard for moral purity tests in order to deserve being left alone and not harassed.

Having kinks is normal, and most of your favorite fic writers have probably written about their kinks, even if not openly. As ever, the golden rule of fanfiction is and has always been "Don't like, don't read."

Just as it is the responsibility of fic authors to tag their work appropriately, it is the responsibility of internet users to make use of content filtering and block features to curate their online experience and protect themselves from material that upsets them. It is *no one's* responsibility to police what other users post online.

Anyone who throws around accusations like "p*dophile" or "gr*omer" without concrete and substantiated evidence of actual wrongdoing (aka, a lot more than just fics or kinks) is not a serious person.

Kimberlyeab is a cool and sexy person and anyone who tries to hurt them must go through me as well.

Any complaints about my/Subordi's fics or the contents thereof can be mailed to the following address:

Doyouhearthunder 69 Fuck Off Ave Proshiptopia, FU United States of Mind Your Own Damn Business

Any praise for my fics can be directed to my inbox. <3

Thank you for reading. I will not be taking questions at this time (except of course from friends in good faith).

God bless all the kinksters and the queers, Nate

[deedala]

✨WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY✨

thanks to @jrooc for the game this week and for tagging me + @creepkinginc @energievie @lingy910y @suzy-queued 💖

Hello beautiful kittens! 🐈‍⬛ Today’s tag game is about our wonderful fandom 😍

How did you get into the fandom? 

after falling deep into the shameless hellspiral i took to tumblr (as is my usual) to find gifs and memes and everything was so good and everyone was so wonderful i couldnt help but wedge my way into the community lmao

How long have you been here?

i started lurking september of 2022 and my first shameless post was in october of 2022 🥰

What’s the first fandom channel you found? (Youtube, Reddit, Tumblr, Insta, Twitter, FB, other?)

yeah tumblr i guess! my first instinct is always to search tumblr tags for a new thing i like 😌

what’s your favourite now? 

tumblr and discord equally, theyre both non-negotiable

Which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom?

@michellemisfit my beloved <3 ran into her in the @shamelesscreatorsnetwork discord (the first discord link i found) and we started talking and never shutted the fuck up ever again even until today lmao 🥰

Which tumblerino’s did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and want to get to know?

okay so since the first thing i seek out on a new interest is GIFS (and also shameless + text posts that shit absolutely sends me), the first people i followed and was so drawn to their immaculate vibes and gorgeous work were @gardenerian @heymacy and @sickness-health-all-that-shit biting you biting you biting you!!! 💖💖💖

First Gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)

so michelle had me read redheaded step-children and it was so gorgeous and wonderful i was completely knocked on my ass by that one <3

and then i got the itch to read an AU and started with intro to quantum dating by @spoonfulstar and unless you're new here you are surely aware of how much i love that one 😂

First Fan art that blew your mind? 

i feel awful because i really cannot remember (crine) but pretty sure it was probably some gorgeous intricate @steorie painting

Fanfic trope that you were sure wasn’t for you but now you low key (or high key) love?

SPORTS AU - and now ive fully fucking lost my mind (@heymacy @too-schoolforcool know how deep it runs and i cannot even talk about it or i will throw up lmao)

What surprised you most about this fandom?

since my last significant foray into a fandom community was a pretty big fandom, there were looots of people who were just out for fucking blood. this community here on tumblr for shameless is a goddamn pillowfort, the vast majority of people are so sweet and supportive and happy to mind their own business it's such a fuckin breath of fresh air.

Moment in the show (or YT vids if you’re one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with Gallavich?

i dont know if i can pinpoint just one moment? but probably one of the big moments early on since thats what would have kept me ravenous to keep consuming more lol

Ian or Mickey?

the fuck??? AAAAHHHHHHHHH uuhhhhh uuhmmmm omg. fuck. uh... okay...just... Mickey? no... Ian? uuhhhhmmm what was the question?

Which Gallagher or Milkovich are you? 

im gonna go with Debbie here <3

and now to tag some more folks in (in addition to everyone tagged above!!) if you want to play! if not, consider this me sending you cleansing brainwaves 🧠

@darlingian @heymrspatel @crossmydna @mybrainismelted @mmmichyyy @wehangout @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @thepupperino @blue-disco-lights @the-rat-wins @loftec @mickeysgaymom @rereadanon @callivich @lee-ow @palepinkgoat @gallapiech @transmickey @iansw0rld @captainjowl @howlinchickhowl @vintagelacerosette @sam-loves-seb @burninface @spookygingerr @mikhailoisbaby @themarchg1rl @whatwouldmickeydo @sleepyheadgallavich @sleepyfacetoughguy @samantitheos

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[thecooler]

Magnetar

You are a mature student at the University of Ooo. You tell people that you resent the term mature student, because, in your own words, it makes you sound like an “old fart.” People respond by telling you that your whole everything makes you sound like an old fart.

Fandom: Adventure Time

Pairing: Simon/Betty

Additional Tags: POV First Person, POV Second Person, Grief/Mourning, Alternate Universes

Word Count: 3,368

AO3 Mirror

Simon Petrikov

You are a mature student at the University of Ooo. You tell people that you resent the term mature student, because, in your own words, it makes you sound like an “old fart.” People respond by telling you that your whole everything makes you sound like an old fart. Regardless of your linguistic preferences, though, you, Simon Petrikov, are living in a college dorm about thirty years and change after you last expected to be.

It’s just you in the room. Last time you were in dorms, you had this wad of a roommate named David, who left his laundry on your side of the room and ate your ramen packets without asking. You’d often told your fiancée, Betty, about David. She always giggled at the disdainful lilt your voice would take when you said his name— David, like you might say the name of your least favorite grade school teacher, or your weirdest ex. David wasn’t your weirdest ex, though, that was a different guy, though his name was also David, which Betty always had a good laugh over the first time you told her.

Betty is coming over later tonight, after you’re done with classes. You love her very much. You’ve been seeing each other for what feels like forever.

You pull a pair of matched socks out of your drawers and slide them on, then adjust your bow tie. You look in the mirror, and for a moment, you see a flash of blue. You blink, and find it’s just yourself staring back. Your hair’s started to grey. Betty thinks it looks good on you.

Betty Grof

The school library has always been something of a safe haven for me. In elementary school, being weird meant that I didn’t keep friends for long, and the librarians were always terribly fond of me. They’d give me little tasks to do, like wiping down tables with a cloth or putting a book or two back if I was good. I relished in these small favors. I’ve always yearned to be useful.

In high school, I managed to make friends, because high school is when people who are ahead of the game realize that being weird and being cool are basically synonyms. And some people still give you grief, but when you have friends, it’s a hell of a lot easier to ignore those people. I didn’t need to spend time in the library, then, to avoid my own loneliness. But I returned anyway, because I found the scent of books and the old, dusty carpet in my hometown’s old library to be a comfort. When I turned sixteen, the director of the library took pity on me and gave me a job. By the time I made my way to University, I was already well on my way to building myself a decent resume.

I don’t remember how I got this particular gig, and it doesn’t really matter.

All that matters is that in this life, this is the library where I met Simon Petrikov.

He’s inevitable, a cosmic force that I feel myself drawn to in every universe. He was a bit older, when I met him here, in his first semester. He was looking for an old volume from Kant. He’s always stubborn— he paced around for a good hour before he asked me for help. When he did, I looked at him and smiled and said, “Are you saying you kant find it?” and he’d laughed way more than the joke called for. He always laughs like that at my jokes, like he thinks I’m the most brilliant person to ever walk the earth. Like he’s never once looked in a mirror.

Simon Petrikov

Your first class is at eight am and all the way across campus. You often joke about how it’s fine, because you could use the cardio and the regular sleep schedule. But you always end up leaving ten minutes late if no one’s pushing you out the door, and you don’t think you’ve ever once jogged willingly in your life. You walk at a regular pace across campus, and you’ll get there when you get there. You don’t usually miss much in the first five minutes anyway, though you don’t love the glare your professor shoots you when you creak open the old, heavy wood door.

You sit in your usual spot and listen to the lecture, but it all sort of starts to blend together. You’re suddenly quite tired, and you can feel your eyelids drooping when shuffling starts around you. With a start, you realize it’s time to head to your next class. You blink and stand up suddenly, stumbling when vertigo gets the better of you. A young man you don’t recognize rests a steadying hand on your shoulder and says, “Come on, Simon, I’ve got you,” and his blue eyes look rather sad.

He’s young, you think, too young to be here, until he’s not. You blink, and he has a beard and a chest tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his tank top. You swear that wasn’t there before. “Simon?” he says again, his brow furrowing. You don’t remember telling him your name.

You look at this young man, and you find yourself at a loss for words. You recognize in his gaze a familiar sense of prolonged grief. You’ve never met him, but somehow you think you’ve known him your whole life, or at least his.

“Are you okay, man?”

You nod, slowly, and it doesn’t seem to convince him. “Betty’s coming over tonight,” you say, “I must have  gotten distracted thinking about it.”

Betty Grof

Once, when we were a lot younger, and before the crown changed everything, Simon and I went hiking together. Usually, when we went on excursions, they were meticulously planned. He had every step of our journey plotted out on a spreadsheet or a numbered list, the creation of which was usually his favorite part of the whole thing. Which wasn’t to say he disliked the excursion— more so that he really liked making lists and spreadsheets.

But we’d gone without this time. I worried it was because I teased him about it, even though he knew it was good-natured, or at least I’m pretty sure he knew. I didn’t think he was actually upset, because Simon always wore his feelings on his sleeve, and when he was worried, he got this crease between his eyebrows. On such occasions, I’d kiss his cheeks until he relented and forgave me, for which I was declared a menace to society. So I don’t know exactly why he decided to forgo the spreadsheet this time, but he refused to make one, even when I tried to nudge him to in the hours before we left.

So we went off into the bush on the outskirts of Seattle, near a farm that some friend of Simon’s owned. We had two backpacks full of trail mix and a sleeping bag, but no tent, because Simon said that he’d been orienteering since he was old enough to walk, and he’d get us out of the bush before we needed to sleep.

Naturally, then, we did not make it out of the forest in time. Instead, we found a nice, open clearing, and we lay down on the grass together and looked at the stars. Simon was fidgeting with his shirt sleeves.

I said, “It’s really okay, Simon. You know I don’t mind a little roughin’ it,” and I waggled my eyebrows. It wasn’t really an innuendo, but I’d never been one to miss an opportunity for a double-entente, no matter how half-baked. I meant it, too. Laying under the stars next to the Simon Petrikov was basically a dream, even after five years of dating. I think it’d been five years. Time is different here, it’s hard to tell. Hard to remember how time moves for mortals.

He turned on his side and he looked at me. Back then, before Evergreen’s crown took root in his mind, his eyes were a deep, thoughtful brown. He said, “You would really tell me when I’ve got a bad idea?”

I turned over and smiled, “Would it stop you if I did?”

And he’d closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and breathed, “No.”

Above, the cosmos shone down, ambivalent to us. It would be hundreds of years yet until we tried to make it ours, and in doing so, fell apart.

Simon Petrikov

You walk to your next class with the unfamiliar old friend. He says he shares the class with you, though you don’t think he seems like the Anthropology type. He pats you on the shoulder and laughs at pretty much everything you say, even when you aren’t making a joke. This feels to you like condescension, but you can’t detect anything other than earnestness in the boy’s face. He looks to be in his early-to-mid twenties, but his eyes are much older.

Your daughter, Marceline, joins you. She has a guitar strapped to her back and you know from experience she isn’t above busting it out in class if she thinks it’ll make the situation funny. Her girlfriend, Bonnie, walks beside her. These are two more people you’ve known for impossibly long, and yet you struggle to pin down any specific memories associated with them. It’s as though your mind is a blank slate, with information slowly being accumulated atop it. Marceline doesn’t look like you, and you don’t think she looks like any of your exes, either. You wonder how the two of you met, then, but you know this is not something you can ask.

She looks back across the hall at you, and you abruptly realize that you’ve stopped walking. You’re staring at her, with her hand in Bonnie’s back pocket, and you feel light— happy. But you don’t have the context for these emotions. Your mind feels like an unorganized mess, as though a cosmic being has reached in and shuffled things around, removed some with the intent to put it back, only she forgot. And now nothing makes sense to you, even things that should be second nature.

Marceline’s brow furrows and her lips tug down into a frown. She presses her palm against the small of Bonnie’s back and whispers something to her, before walking back towards Simon while the other girl makes her way towards class. Somewhere along the way, the boy vanished, like as soon as he was out of your line of sight, he ceased to exist. You tense with the realization that the world around you feels more empty than it ought to be.

Marceline places a hand on your shoulder and meets your eyes. In the reflection of her deep brown irises, you see yourself with ragged white hair, and then one of you blinks, and it’s you again. “Simon,” she says carefully, biting her bottom lip and tapping a finger against your shoulder. She takes what feels like several minutes to decide what she’s going to say, though it can’t be more than thirty seconds.

“Is this about–?”

Betty Grof

There’s a reality where we got the crown (we get it in most of them, one way or another), but it wasn’t you who put it on. Simon took it out and came up behind me and popped it on my head. I remember hearing him say boop and start to laugh, and then the universe exploded around me. This, in my current state, says very little. It’s difficult for me to conceptualize what it would have felt like for my mortal brain, but I think that it was agony. It was, to my best approximation, something like having your skull split open, and then unceremoniously pouring the steaming hot knowledge of the cosmos inside.

Which is to say it was probably about as overwhelming for Simon as it was for me.

But when Simon put on the crown, in that first reality we endured together (for him. There is no first for me, nor a last, they are all as one, but it was the first reality my mortal flesh experiences, and so it is easier to describe it as the first) he only lost me. He thought, at the time, that the madness drove me away, and it took him a thousand years to learn the reality of the situation.

Perhaps it is a mercy, then, that in the reality where I don the crown first, I know immediately what happened to my Simon. The crown slips off my head, and I find him, body entombed in ice, save his head, which lolls lifeless and heavy to one side.

There’s more that happens after that, but I don’t stay long.

Simon Petrikov

Eventually, you’re able to convince Marceline that you’re quite alright, but maybe you could stand to eat soon. The two of you cut class, which makes you momentarily feel like a bit of a wild child. The University has a hall of student-run food outlets, and they vary from quite bad to decent. You are partial to the Greek-themed shop, because the chicken isn’t dry and you’ve always been a fan of tzatziki. You often keep a big tub of it in your fridge, when you aren’t living on campus.

You eat with Marceline, and she tells you that she and Bonnie are doing well, that she thinks Bonnie will graduate at the end of next semester but she’s probably going to take another year. She doesn’t mention what either of them are studying. You think that you should remember that. Why don’t you remember that? 

She asks you if you have any plans for tonight, and you tell her you have a date. Something tells you that you shouldn’t mention who it’s with, and she doesn’t pry, but she does give you a look that feels very sad, and you don’t like how it makes you feel.

Betty Grof

Simon always planned what we were going to do. While he did that, I managed time. Those sorts of things tended to get away from him. He’d get all wrapped up in research, in exploring every last inch of our ventures, and suddenly, he’d look up and it’d be night already. I always knew exactly what time it was. I learned to read the stars and the trajectory of the sun when I was young, and I’d always found comfort in the notion that no matter where I was in the world, I’d know when I was.

Now, time bends strangely around me, and there is equally no future to plan nor past to recall. Everything is happening, has happened, and will never happen. It is not something that my mortal mind was born to conceive of, though I suppose I’m well past that now.

I know all our realities, Simon. I know each of our beginnings and our ends. There are worlds where we die with our hands clasped together in the face of nuclear destruction. There are worlds where you go on without me, and others where I go on without you. There are realities where we linger together for decades, until the inevitability of death pulls us slowly and together into her arms. I spend more time than I should ruminating on these realities.

Simon Petrikov

Sometime after lunch, you end up back in your dorm room. You think you like it here, more so than you’ve liked a lot of your apartments. For one thing, you have easy access to a good library, though the University’s fiction section, as is often the case, leaves something to be desired. You have room for an armchair and a nice standing lamp. You often fall asleep in that chair, and your back does not thank you for it.

There will be none of that tonight, though, because again, you have a date.

You already look good— you always look good— but you like to dress up. Betty usually dresses comfortably, though she’ll put on her best if the situation calls for it, but a regular Friday evening date does not. She’ll be here in a sweater and slacks, and you’ll think she’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. You know, at this point, very little about the universe. You think you know quite a bit, but you’re mistaken. It’s better that way. Our mortal brains aren’t designed to comprehend such concepts. I would know.

Regardless of how good you currently look (very), you strip out of your blazer and button-down. Your tie is a clip-on, which you wouldn’t be caught dead with on a date. Betty doesn’t understand why it matters if they basically look the same, and doesn’t seem to get it no matter how many times you emphasize that it’s the principle of the matter. But that’s fine; you’re dressing up for you, and a little bit for Betty, but mostly for you.

In the end, you aren’t ready until two minutes before your date’s supposed to start. You’ve put on another nearly identical button-down which you insist is your nice one, as well as some nice black slacks and a matching suit jacket. Your tie is properly tied and not clipped on, like some sort of amateur. You fiddle with it in the mirror until you hear a knock on the door, right on time.

You glance away, and out of the corner of your eye, you once again see a flash of blue, but it’s gone when you whip your head back around. You inhale deeply, and exhale slowly through your nose.

I knock again.

You answer.

???

We’re in your dorm room. You’re looking at me, in that lovelorn way you always wore on date nights. It’s like warmth found a home in your eyes, like I can see the burning of your heart through them. You invite me inside and tell me you’ve put the kettle on for tea. You got the English breakfast tea I like.

We’re holding hands under the stars. The dewy grass seeps through clothing that’s too thin for the midnight chill as we sleep under the cold and unforgiving night sky. We’ll survive, but our aging bodies won’t thank us, and when we develop colds a week from now, we know who to blame.

We’re old together. Wrinkles tug at your face in a way I think is terribly handsome, but which you often fuss over. Day by day, simple things grow harder, and when your eyesight starts to go, you cup my face in your hands and whisper, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see your beautiful face.” I reassure you that you have lived without the sight before and will again, but this doesn’t soothe you. I wish it would.

We’re a thousand years beyond a time we should have ever been allowed to live, and I’m sacrificing my mind to restore yours. I never have a single doubt that you would do the same.

I know now that this is true, I’ve seen it come to fruition, in another life.

The bomb goes off while we lay, hand in hand.

You die cradled in my arms.

We’re in the dorm again, and you’re looking at me with an expression I cannot comprehend. I’ve known you for countless lifetimes, and yet there are still times where you perplex me.

“I don’t know where you end,” I say, and without missing a beat, you return, “I don’t know where I begin.”

Our realities, everything we are, is a web of entanglement from which neither of us can escape, no matter how powerful we become. My end is your beginning, my beginning your end, and everything in between those times, folding in upon each other in an incomprehensible cacophony of misery. I know all, and yet, at times even I struggle to understand it.

You are there, and then you are not.

I can always reach you, in a way, if I so choose. But we will never be as we once were. I know too much now.

Were I capable, I would weep for the loss.

[rockerscentral]

ROCKERSCENTRAL MASTERPOST🎸

(A rockers-related Rhythm Heaven ask blog!)

Info can be found under the line break.

___________________

The Basics: (or the General Info)

This blog serves to be a more creative way for me to share all of the ideas that I had planned out for the Rockers, along with some other guys, mainly following a story-esque format that follows their "backstory" and how they had originally met up to become the well known rock duo they are now!

Following up on the text above, just to clarify and put it straight, the blog will not start out with the both of them right away, and will likely follow the perspective of one or the other.

While there will be art for a bunch of the asks, especially for standard posts that are needed to progress the story, I cannot guarantee that there will be something drawn for each ask, though I do wish to try and do so. That applies to whether it's a colored sketch, actual drawing, a simple doodle, etc.

Some characters may have different names than some that may be commonly used as a fan-name from the fandom, the main case of this going to Student (name being Jamie.)

This whole blog's going to be a headcanon fest, considering how a majority of this is me making shit up for the most part, so please keep that in mind if you see different portrayals for one thing or another.

Additional Notes:

If you are running another character-based blog, it is completely alright to interact with this account! Just keep in mind that this is technically taking place in the past, which means that any asks that are sent that mention anything that could be in regards to any present matters /foreshadows anything about the Rockers will likely be ignored.

While it may not be prevalent for the long run start of this blog, I do ship the Rockers together, and would probably come up at some point very later on when the time comes, so be weary of that if you don't like the ship and such.

This blog is only being run by me, myself and I ( @submaskudari ), so things might be a bit slow depending on the situation.

I will also answer asks that are out of character for those who wish to know anything from me specifically ^_^

Unless there is only one character that's available for asks, please specify who you are sending an ask towards, otherwise it may be pushed back out of confusion.

___________________

Blog Rules:

Don't be a weirdo in the asks LOL

NO METAGAMING.. I have no idea how that'd play out anyways, but this still applies :sob:

Try not to spam the ask box, or be repetitive with asks.. I'm just one guy, and sometimes it might take a moment to spot it.

Transphobia, Homophobia, Racism, Proship, and all of the other bad shit is not welcome here, so please see yourself out if you fall under said criteria.

Please be kind!! I am just a little guy, again.

___________________

Tags:

# (insert character name) + ask: Asks that are directed to said character #main art reblog: main blog posts that either feature Rockers/ Blog-related content. #refs: Simply the refs I work off of for the characters I draw here. # (insert tumblr user here): Asks sent by said user/blog. #asks: Ask posts in general. #ooc ask: Asks that are related to the blog, but are directed to the blog owner (me) rather than an ic ask for the characters. #masterpost: what do you think LOL #sillyart: probably gonna be labled under shitposts or verrry bad doodles, just goofing around! #rockerscentral: tag for chrono-order posts, asks or non asks

#djschoolcentral: april fools posts (chrono order, too)

___________________

This will be updated time from time as the blog progresses, rather it'd be for rule additions or something else. If anything, I'm probably going to add a blog Q&A for any additional questions that anyone may have, so feel free to ask!

[sweetiebriar]

As someone very smart once said: "I try to stay away from a lot of fandom discourse, but since I’ve been seeing this on my dash again and in tags, I feel the need to make a statement on this, particularly for any young fans who follow me that might get drawn into this mindset."

First off, it's worth clarifying that Ramesses IS indeed a genuine ending LI. Remy simply mentioned that, being a later addition due to fan demand, his route might have slightly less screen time – which makes sense.

Now, there's been chatter about Livius hogging the spotlight in Season 2, leaving fans of other LIs like Amen, Agnia, Ramesses, or even Set feeling a bit overlooked. But let's break it down logically:

Given Eva's current priorities of survival, settling her debt to Set, and unravelling the mystery of Isman, it's only natural for her to interact more with Set and Livius, her available allies. This isn't about Remy playing favourites; it's just the storyline unfolding organically.

With Amen posing a significant threat to Eva's safety (antagonist of the story, let me remind you), it's understandable that she's focused on dealing with him rather than indulging in romance.

As for Ramesses, his absence in Season 2 stems from his need to flee danger both from the Hunters and his brother Renmao. It's a waiting game until Eva can reunite with him as promised (and I romance him too, I know how excruciating this waiting can be).

I don’t have anything concrete to say about Agnia because, no offence to her followers, but I think her role in the story is a bit shallow and serves no purpose except being the LGBTQ+ LI (like Lima in KCOD, which is truly sad…). However, Agnia's role may seem limited at first glance, but recent developments reveal her as a formidable adversary to Eva. Her storyline mirrors Amen's, with Eva needing to tackle immediate challenges before considering romance.

As for Remy's reputation, while she may be a controversial figure, her storytelling prowess is undeniable. Her stories are always complete, with choices that truly matter. All routes a player can take thoughtfully lead to a specific outcome. I remember being so impressed reading Kali and finding out how many freaking endings there were not only based on your LI but also the path you were on, whether it was Loyalty/Independence BUT ALSO Rage/Kindness of Goddess as well as Respect. All your stats count in Remy's stories, and that's what makes her works so popular, so can we please give her some leeway here? You don't have to like the person she is, but at least her commitment to crafting immersive stories deserves some recognition.

Apologies for the long-winded explanation, and thanks for sticking with me till the end 🫶🏻.

[nekoannie-chan]

Peculiar routine

Peculiar routine

Title: Peculiar routine.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 327 words.

Square: 3 “Individual quirks.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You learnt Steve’s routine.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my entry for @fandom-free-bingo Flight Edition.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

You found Steve's daily routine to be something to admire, yet at the same time, you found it strange the quirks he used to do. You got up early, and every morning when you looked out the window, you saw Steve running through the park.

One day, you decided to join him. You woke up even earlier than usual and put on your sports clothes. When you arrived at the park, Steve was already there, jogging at a steady pace. When he saw you, he smiled and came over.

“Hi," he said, "I didn't expect to see you so early. "

“You inspired me when I saw your morning routine," you replied, smiling.

After his run, Steve would head to a nearby coffee shop, where he always ordered the same thing: a black coffee and a croissant. He would sit at the same table, take out a small notebook and pencil, and start drawing.

One day, you got up the courage to ask him about those drawings.

“Steve, what do you draw every morning? "

“Sometimes I draw what I see in the park, other times, I don't know, whatever comes to mind. "

You knew he was lying; Steve was a terrible liar.

You asked to see one of his drawings, and he, after a moment's hesitation, agreed. He had drawn the park, but what caught your attention most was a drawing of someone running, and you realized it was you.

“You're very talented," you said, handing the notebook back to him.

Steve blushed slightly.

[ask-good-cop-bad-cop]

▫️ It has occurred to us that we should probably make an introductory post, so visitors to our blog know what to expect here. So without further ado-

▫️ Welcome, and thanks for stopping by!

▫️ We're open to most questions, though we do ask that you remain respectful toward us and those who will see our responses to your asks. This is a public space, after all.

▪️ Abuse of the anonymous function will result in it being turned off. Questions we find inappropriate will be left unanswered and deleted. This is mostly aimed at NSFW/suggestive asks. Others will be judged inappropriate at our discretion.

▫️ Usually we'll both answer an ask unless it's specified which of us you would prefer to answer.

▪️ We're also very busy so we can't always answer asks or messages right away. Be patient and we'll get back to you eventually.

▫️ We look forward to hearing from you! (And please don't let Bad intimidate you, I promise he's not as grouchy as he seems.)

🔸️ Please note that mun is very much an adult and will not be responding to rp prompts of a more shippy nature as they are also aware much of the active fandom these days are minors. (To be honest they probably still won't even if they know you're an adult.)

🔸️ Mun is also Not Great at art but is trying to get better so feel free to send in requests or asks that would otherwise prompt a drawn answer!

🔸️ In addition to GCBC, their second and third in command are available for asks as well. Feel free to direct some questions to Frank and AJ! Ma and Pa will also make guest appearances from time to time.

🔸️ Please do check out the Tags page! You can find a variety of answered asks, some lore tidbits (under "Cop Facts"), some lovely art of GCBC by other fans, and my own handful of fics and pics. (The Lore page is as much there for Mun's own reference as for visitors, ha...)

[meadowziplines]

#IFD2024 Feedback Fest: 10 Gen Sandman Fic Recs

10 Dreamling Fic Recs // 10 Gen Sandman Fic Recs // 10 Femslash Sandman Fic Recs // 10 Fic Recs For Other Fandoms

I have not provided additional cw’s beyond what is in the summary; please check work tags before reading.

I didn’t tend to include authors whose works are already quite popular. Also, it was hard picking these and I love many more fics! And feel free to tag in authors whose Tumblr handles I don’t know.

(G-T)

[G] when only dreams remain by Karalyn/@karalynlovescake (507): Dream has always been drawn to stories, and the stories of the humans whose lives his sister touches compel him.

[G] Readings by lookninjas (995): Rose Walker spends the month before her first book reading (her first reading as a published author of her own book that is being published because she is about to be a published author which she is not freaking out about at all, she’s fine) giving readings in her dreams.

[G] one for sorrow by Morcai (1.2k): And that’s the problem, of course. He cannot focus because there is something wrong. Something, somewhere is wrong. Out of place. Disjointed. He can feel it, like an itch in his teeth, like a whine just barely on the edge of hearing, like any one of ten thousand sensations that dreamers have felt over the eons that are not unbearable, but will not allow peace.

[G] Basement Dreams by ramenlover (509): Jed Walker's past attacks him each night. Luckily he knows someone who can help.

(This whole 'Uncle Dream' series is excellent.)

[G] You Have but Slumbered Here by Eighty_Sixed (36k): Morpheus begins visiting Hob Gadling's dreams. Meanwhile, a growing darkness threatens the Dreaming.

[T] Red Flags and Butterflies by Griombrioch (2.2k): “Rose Walker,” Dream murmurs, announcing his presence. He steps across the carpet and kneels down in front of Rose. This woman who’d stared him down and given her consent to die by his hand. This child who had been forced into all of this because of his sibling. And himself, inadvertently.

The collateral damage from the petty fights of deities.

Twenty one years old.

“You are a child of the Endless. You do not belong on the ground.”

___

Or, the one where I write my need for Rose getting to work through trauma and Dream caring a whole lot about it.

[T] larks and katydids by mightybee4 (8.5k): He was a dream, a story, every fantasy and idea created in the universe. He was the abstraction of ideas, the clarity of thought. His body was formed from dreams made flesh, his appearance ever-changing; but in the circle of runes and glass, his body was no longer dream-stuff.

He was made of skin and bone, nerves and muscles, and he was sure if he dug his nails or his teeth into the soft flesh of his arms he would bleed; not like Despair, whose shedding of her blood was of her purpose, but like any animal ushered into a slaughterhouse, blood pooling indiscriminate and useless, indistinguishable from any others.

or: Dream under the conditions of absolute reality.

(M)

[M] descent by jamais_vu0 (4.5k): once he is done fussing with the raven that flew into his face, roderick burgess looks down at his new prize and feels his breath catch- for the first time, he understands the scope of what he is doing, feels the fragility of the divine cupped in his careless hands.

death should have black wings, he thinks, absurdly clear in the moment- but they are black, with a green shine like an oil slick, each feather tipped in pale gold. a starling’s wings, but vast enough to lift a man in flight, unfolded on the floor behind his prize, pressing up against the very inner edge of the circle. he stares, imprints the gold lacing onto his vision, stars in an aurora-painted sky, and aches with all the things he is not.

(dream of the endless has wings, and is made to suffer for this.)

[M] The Lady, Or The Tiger by jamais_vu0 (4.9k): “Dream of the Endless,” Roderick sneers, and taps the handle of his cane on the glass. Dream of the Endless blinks once, out of sync, but otherwise doesn’t respond. There is something terribly inhuman about him, something Ethel can’t define but recognizes on the same level of awareness that knows there is something lurking behind her in the dark.

They keep a tiger in the basement, in a cage of glass and willpower, she thinks to herself, and follows Roderick back upstairs and does not sleep at all that night.

(or, ethel cripps gets sick of roderick's shit and instead of stealing from him and running away, she frees dream from his cage)

[M] lilacs out of the dead land by tharkuun (7k): Dream of the Endless escaped the Burgess manor after driving every soul within it mad, but it cost him his own sense of self. Now free, he feels too much, he is too much, and he seeks out any way he can to bleed his excesses off and become a person again.

Or: Local Eldritch monster tries to become a person again: the fic.

[feelyxstuff]

Fan Fiction Recommendation #4

Hey lovely people! 🌸

Life's been a bit of a whirlwind lately, but I'm back with my fourth fanfic recommendation, and I'm so excited to share it with you!

This time, it is a BokuAka fic. It's not a pairing I usually explore, but last month, I decided to give them a real shot, and now… they have part of my heart! 💖

So, here comes the recommendation! I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Name: Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved)

Author: kazzydolyn

Fandom: Haikyuu!

Summary: Akaashi Keiji considers himself to be a fairly intelligent person.

Until he meets Bokuto Koutarou, and he starts making some very bad decisions.

Because the only thing stupider than getting into a friends-with-benefits arrangement with your obnoxiously attractive roommate is falling in love with said obnoxiously attractive roommate.

Rating: Explicit

Warning: No Arquive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Relationship: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou; Minor or Background Relationship(s); Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei; Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru

Characters: Akaashi Keiji; Bokuto Koutarou; Konoha Akinori; Tsukishima Kei; Kuroo Tetsurou; Oikawa Tooru; Iwaizumi Hajime

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - College/University #Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates #Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings #Bokuto Koutarou is a Human Exclamation Mark #Living Together #Roommates #Friends With Benefits #Friends to Lovers #Fluff #Truth or Dare #First Kiss #Kissing #Domestic Fluff #Falling In Love #Feelings Realization #Getting Together #Happy Ending #Fluff and Smut #Sexual Experimentation #Consent is Sexy #Explicit Sexual Content #First Time

Language: English

Stats: Completed 2020-09-26

Link for the fan fiction: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26025970/chapters/63284638

Link for the pictures: https://ca.pinterest.com/pin/16888567355923864/ https://ca.pinterest.com/pin/12736811440385424/

✦✧✦✧

My thoughts: Alright, so…

I think this might be the first BokuAka fic I've read where I was like, "Okay, this is it, I love it!" 💫

To be honest, I always thought they were a cute couple, but I never felt super drawn to them. That was until I stumbled upon this really cool and unusual BAKT oneshot. And let me tell you… after that, I was like... 'aha!' 😂 I just couldn't get enough and had to start searching for more of Bokuto and Akaashi!

I’m actually rereading it right now because I couldn't stop thinking about it all day! It's got that slow-burn goodness, and it's so beautifully written and developed. A bit of cliché, in a college alternative universe, with the special touch of their personality. I also love how the author brings in the other characters and really makes the story come alive! ✨

After finishing it, all I could think was, "BokuAka is just… everything!" 🥰 I hope it gives you those same happy feels! Enjoy, and happy reading! 📚💕

My tags: bokuaka; haikyuu

[mexicanricstar]

@ricstarweek2024

Day 2: Missing Moments

Rating: General Audiences

Category: M/M

Fandoms: X-Men (Comicverse)X-Force (Comics)

Relationships: Julio Richter/ShatterstarJulio Richter & Tabitha Smith

Characters: Julio RichterShatterstar (Marvel)Tabitha Smith

Additional Tags:

RicStar Week 2024, missing moment, Pre-Relationship, Comic: X-Force Vol. 1 (1991), ric and star both think the other is weird but both feel drawn to each other,no beta we die like men

Language: English

Words: 2,480

Summary

Fabian Nicieza said the reason he paired up Rictor and Shatterstar was because everyone else had already a partner, so I thought there must have been a moment when these two actually had a first real conversation and after it they became inseparable, here is my take on it.

[araneitela]

6. What’s the worst thing about the fandom?

@basbousah // Prompt: Canon Questionnaire. // Accepting

6. What’s the worst thing about the fandom? I love how there's even the smallest sliver of opportunity for me to salt with this meme, and I latch onto it with both hands, supergluing myself to said chance. Any way, you asked, so here I go with the 'worst thing': the very high level of M/M fetishizing done not by Hoyo, but by its own audience; and not once, not twice, but with pretty much every single release of a male character (and hold my hand when two of them are released simultaneously). Perhaps I'm an odd one out here, but when the first reactions to male characters consist of 'omg I'm drooling, he's so hot' or immediate considerations of which other male character they'd like to see bone him, I can't help but lose a little bit of respect. And yes, I am referring to instances similar to Dr. Veritas Ratio in the bathtub, and Aventurine in his morning artwork.

And I have to draw this back to the female character sexualization thing for a second, because while yes, female characters are also sexualized, it is in a vastly different way and I'll be really honest, those tags are not half as full or bad as the M/M ones (and thankfully so at this point), nor do I have to read about how badly people are hungry to see x pound y into a mattress or wall with whatever additions. I just don't see it, and I've tried to find it for the hell of it to see whether I'm wrong, and so far? Outside of the quite graphically heavy NSFW AI-generated things that are often relegated to equally as AI-infested art databases: nothing's proved to me that I am, indeed, really wrong on this. On top of that, I can genuinely say that having written exclusively female muses within this fandom (and having exclusively written male muses in previous fandoms for years), I have not needed to build sky-high walls around them to keep myself far away from ship and subsequent NSFW thread-fishing. And honestly? I'm glad for it. I'm glad not to see tags filled with sexualizations, and I'm really glad to not have to always see rather uh, brutal and/or intense graphic drawings on X of what people want these characters to do to each other. Honestly, I'm kinda glad I don't have to see that level of hand-drawn thirsting when I go into the Kafka tag. I don't want to condemn artists for making art, but I will sometimes go 'why is this what you decide to draw within 48 hours of two male characters being released'? You know? I want to go more into this, but I may just... reblog a little salt meme for that instead. Let's not dump everything in the answer to an ask that's supposed to be innocent!