#also not to be like 'validate me pls'

[pepperpixel]

Initial drawings of that old man… I literally, I haven’t finished reading the book of bill yet!!! I had to stop and take a break for a week to feverishly draw fanart of myself petting fords floofy hair and giving him attention and shit…!!!! The urge was too great….!! I’ve literally. I had a crush on this guy the instant he was first REVEALED in the show, but I did not have the artistic prowess to draw good looking old men back then… but I do now… thank god… thank fucking god

[nats-uvi]

Angst time :D👍

You can read my rambling about her in the tags

[gascreates]

them :) dino refs finally complete, so now i can make all the joke comics i want

design thoughts under the cut

aang- second hardest design to ge through. at first i couldn't decide on a species, and then i couldn't get the colors to work. believe it or not, bright yellow right next to bright blue is painful to look at. so instead i opted for an all orange color pallette. does he look like a candy corn? yes. and we love him for it. puny lil candy corn avatar

katara- sweet baby so easy, love her, perfect design, no tears shed except for joy. also GIGANTIC. non negotiable part of her design tbh. and aquatic dino!! spinosaurus was the only choice. the sail is meant to look like her necklace! isnt that cool. im so cool and talented.

sokka- nanuqsaurus is! maybe a cold weather dino. possibly. so we did that. he's smaller than his sister and he's mad about it :) also, him face is warriors paint!! and i know that atla water tribes didn't really have anything to do with orcas, but I love orcas and i wanted to give sokka some recognizably hunter-y pattern. so, orca white markings.

toPH- i am ENDLESSLY SUGFERING. do you know how many times i flip flopped on toph's species. do you understand how many hours i spent debating over the benefits of triceratops vs protoceratops?? ankylosaurus vs. pachysephalosaurus???? my agony is unending. im still unsure. sacrificing the concept that toph could take down a t rex (trike) for the small n unassuming character theme (proto). also the badgermole looking markings are cool i guess

zuko- this is where you pretend that im bot playing favorites when it comes to dino species. why is he a deinonychus? cuz i like big raptors, that's why. go away. dont look at me. he's cute. he looks like a bird and i love that for him. also something something aang and zuko similar species that specialize differently based on how their environments changed them, zuko an echo of the potential of flight and aang an echo of the potential to hunt. flock bird vs pack hunter. same but different.

height chart:

i really cant say if it's accurate at all to the real dinos, but i was lazy and didnt want to do math, so it's just eyeballed heights. the important part is that we understand how tiny aang is and how massive katara is

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[greyfingers]

I know people have kinda moved on from the longlegs gender topic but the heated discourse surrounding Dale's gender was always so incredibly interesting and funny to me. Like the initial criticism that he was offensive to trans women, trans women saying "we don't claim him" and calling him an ugly cis man (amazing + hilarious btw), osgood perkins wholeheartedly rejecting the whole trans idea in his AMA and then nicolas cage saying in an interview that he literally sees Dale as genderless like....

all so hysterical to watch. because as an actual agender person!! who is v sick of all our representation in media being aliens and robots, Dale's lack of gender was so incredibly obvious to me from the very start even with he/him pronouns n everyone referring to him as a man lmao. and yeah sorry I will absolutely claim him as representation if no one else will HAHA I rlly don't care that he's an ugly gross satanic murderer who lives in a basement. he's interesting and funny. one of us.

[lovereadandwrite]

he cooked ! he served !! HE ATE😮‍💨🥵

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[kyliivan]

“Sampo sounds too deep in his new voicelines” SUCK IT UP BITCH THAT’S MY MAAANNNN

[dipplinduo]

Scrapped Content for The Dichotomy In Our Hearts

Where have I been? Ah. Well. Would you believe me if I told you I have been writing and rewriting the same chapter across this past like...week? xD

I have been working through a series of ideas for chapter updates, but I've been very very stuck on The Dichotomy In Our Hearts.

When I tell you. I have written this one scene. OVER AND OVER. LOOOOL.

Ultimately, I've realized the voice of DIOH comes from a sweeter/reflective/"grow through growing pains" kind of tone. Not as much of a conflict-driven/angsty/"Kieran can you please chill the edge bc you're lowkey toxic chain'd" one, like with what you might see me write in Sweet & Sour Dipplins. And lemme tell you, it feels sooooo good to have this breakthrough, because one thing I've been actively trying to do with DIOH is distinguish it from S&S D across the board (but especially with Kieran & Juliana's characterizations & dynamics).

So that being said, I'm gonna rework the last two chapters. I was originally going to have them come out as part of a bigger update in general, but if you've been following this story you've honestly waited long enough, lol. So! I'm prioritizing this. Next update from me will come out within a few days with the conclusion of this story. <3 In the meantime, I figured I should share some of the scrapped work I had - it's a good scene on its own, but you'll see a different version of this scene play out in a more effective way within Chapter 4. :)

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

Kieran huffed out a breath of the furious storm that had festered inside of him. He had hoped his time decompressing in the frosty woods would freeze over the raw cut to his already withering pride, but it proved to no avail as he walked along the cobblestone pathway to his home. He relished in what remained of the short-lived comfort he obtained through casting himself to the shadows as his home’s lingering lights began to expose his wounds back to the watching world. The rays were an anomaly for this time of night; his grandfather had always had a strict rule of dimming the house before bed, and Kieran was highly certain it was too late for people to be awake. 

He braced himself with a careful inhale as he quietly stepped up to the shoji before him, and the door felt like a paper barrier between the last of his solitude and judgment itself. They couldn’t have been waiting up to lecture him some more, could they? At this point, he didn’t need any punishment beyond the torment of his self-criticism. He knew he was rash and reckless. He knew he was lucky the little boy was okay. 

He just wished he was better. It was another moment he could’ve used to prove himself, but he blew it. Again.

 The guilt already gripped into him mercilessly. It seemed as if the history of his inexcusable failures enjoyed repeating themselves - no matter how hard he tried to remedy them by pushing himself - and it seemed as if the world would do anything but retire the spotlight from him while he dug his grave further into the lifeless ground. The real salt in the wound was the dramatic irony of how he had failed this time, though. 

Once again, his efforts were fruitless. Once again, Juliana had stepped in so effortlessly. Once again, she is showered in praise while he is showered in shame. 

And of course she bore witness to his humiliation.

Kieran clenched his jaw tightly as he slid the shoji. He remained stealthy, but still nonetheless moved swiftly to rip the band-aid off to whatever awaited him indoors. He squinted his sensitive eyes against the blaring, toasty lights - they were more powerful than what had seeped through to the front porch - and the illuminance from the lamps refracted warm hues off of the yellow-orange walls. Minus the scattered lights, the house was void of his noisy family members. They must’ve all retreated to their beds as Kieran would reasonably predict.  As Kieran’s vision adjusted to his bright and tidy home, his movements slowed to the sight before him. He stepped inside in a manner that was as Dedenne as he attempted to survey the situation.

Juliana was curled up against the kotatsu in an awkward position - one that looked far from comfortable. It appeared as if she had fallen asleep entirely by accident; she had donned her usual attire instead of the pajamas she was meant to borrow, and she was sitting up rather than lying down into the kotatsu’s blanket that poorly covered her lap. Her back was hunched over so she could rest her cheek against her forearms, which were somewhat sprawled along the wooden surface of the kotatsu. Her Deerling-like eyes remained sealed shut as Keiran inched closer, and there was a subtle droop in her parted jaw as she softly breathed. Odd touches of flyaways and frizz decorated her waved, somewhat messy hair, and Kieran noted slight creases that wrinkled in a hidden gray underneath her eyes. 

Was she waiting up for him? 

It was yet another moment that felt stolen and improper. When he observed her, he could see nothing but a much more vulnerable aspect of his rival that he felt he wasn’t meant to experience.

It was yet another moment that felt stolen and improper. When he observed her, he could see nothing but a much more vulnerable aspect of his rival that he felt he wasn’t meant to experience. She was supposed to be unyielding and ruthless with limitless capabilities. An obstacle in his path that he could overcome to clear his conscience.

Kieran bit the corner of his lip and exhaled slowly - the bewildering tugs of emotions on either end only added to his already building frustration. He quietly snagged the patchworked, quilted blanket that was draped along the plush sofa nearby her - why she couldn’t just resign herself on that at the minimum, Kieran didn’t know - and carefully wrapped it around her narrow shoulders. As he turned to leave, a gentle touch around some of his fingers caused him to gasp. 

“Ki…Ki-”

Kieran’s mouth suddenly felt dry as his heart skipped a beat. 

“-eran,” Juliana finished, and the weird sensation in his chest rallied heat around him. Why was he imagining she would call him…?

The touch around his middle and ring finger became a soft grip as Juliana stirred and began rubbing her face. Now that she was awake, reality struck him back into his senses and he suddenly felt as restless as he was in the woods. 

Kieran tried to keep his voice even as he spoke. "Juliana, it's late. Ya’ should go to bed," 

Juliana blinked sleepily as she sat up, still holding his hand. "I was worried about you," she murmurs. "Are you okay?"

Kieran nearly pulled his hand away as the realization dawned on him. So this was what it was all about: pity.

She was the hero who looked down on him and pitied him before anything else.

The epiphany was a coarse grain of salt rubbing in his wounds, but it was somehow the easiest and most sensible thing to believe than any lingering alternatives. "Why do you care so much?" he snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone but feeling unable to stop himself. "You don't need to pretend to be worried about me."

Juliana flinched as she became more alert. “Why would I pretend to be worried?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Kieran spat as he snatched his hand away. 

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?” Juliana asked firmly as she rose, a hint of anxiety in her defensiveness. “Is this about Peacharunt?”

“It’s about way more than that.” Kieran tightened his fists as he steadied his gaze on a chair cushion, readying his words like canons. “You won again. Ya’ always do. I don’t need your pity as a consolation prize.” 

“I’m not trying to pity you,” Juliana countered. “I just know that things have been hard lately, and I-”

Kieran turned to face her, his voice almost trembling as the pain in her face brought out some of his own. “That’s why ya’ came here in the first place, right? I just mess everything up left and right. Ya’ just want ta’ keep an eye on me and fix my mistakes. ‘Cause I’m so horrible.”

Juliana stepped closer and spoke softly enough to make the hair behind Kieran’s neck raise. “Kieran, you’re not horrible at all. But you’re acting like you are, and you keep pushing people away. You’re pushing me away.”

Juliana’s cries fell on deaf ears as the anger flared inside of Kieran, directionless. An ugly mix of self-loathing, resentment, and deep-seeded insecurity oozed uncontrollably as he spat out his words. "Stop beatin’ around the bush, everyone knows that I can't ever measure up to you!” His voice cracked with the weight of his emotions, and he turned away again, unable to face her and complete his thought. How even his own grandparents trusted her battle skills over his.

“This isn’t a competition. I’m not trying to compete with you,” Juliana breathed unevenly, as if there was something unsteady brewing in her.

Kieran's eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling over. "Ya’ think it's not a competition? It's always a competition! Everyone is always comparing us, and I always come up short. Do ya’ even know what that's like?” Kieran continued as Juliana opened her mouth in protest. “Ya’ don’t. ‘Cause you’re always the hero everyone wants and loves. You are perfect,” Kieran spat as an insult as he ran out of breath. 

A pulsating surge of shock struck Kieran as his rival’s voice grew uncharacteristically intense. "You think I'm perfect? You think I don’t have struggles? That I don’t actually care about you at all?” Her voice cracked before becoming small and hushed. “How could you say such a thing?”

His eyes danced between hers in anguish, and he messily attempted to somewhat soften his outburst as he recalled her smile under the fireworks. “If you had any flaws they’d just be a work of art.” (MAKE CONTRADICTION MORE FLUID)

“I thought you of all people would know that I'm anything but perfect!” Juliana cried out, tears bursting down her face. “After everything you’ve seen me struggle with.”

As he witnessed the seams of her composure become undone, Kieran felt as if he was sinking, too. The tension in his fists released as he was taken aback, rendered speechless. 

Juliana continued to fall apart before him, using both of her hands to wipe her face repeatedly as her voice trembled. “I don’t fit in at the academy. I miss being at home. And the only person that really feels like a home is the one person I’m pitted against. You’ve seen me fail over and over again with all of these things. You’ve seen parts of me I haven’t shown anyone else. But you... you act like I’m this flawless person who just waltzes through life without a care. And it hurts, Kieran. It hurts because I care about you so much, and you don’t even see it.”

Kieran’s eyes widened as he was hit with a sudden sense of clarity. He began to blink rapidly as he recalled the intimacy and affection he had misread as a threat. Her giddiness, her eagerness to accompany him and cling to him, her interest in his thoughts and moods. A tingle ruptured inside him as he pieced everything together. 

She…liked him? 

It felt like a haughty deduction, but it was the only way he could make sense of such strong feelings. He wasn’t sure what to make of it - what he was even supposed to do with it. Kieran hesitantly reached out an arm around the shaking girl’s back and nudged her forward. His hyperawareness grew as she collapsed into him as she sobbed, curling her fingernails around arms. It felt as she was slipping down, and Kieran unintentionally dropped to the floor with her as she buried herself against him. 

It was a moment he was entirely unprepared for and could never predict. There was a part of him that felt good - as if his damaged ego was stroked and given value. There was another that raved about the attention he was receiving, to have someone fight because they cared. There was another part that was disgusted at himself for those feelings. There was another that couldn’t make sense of Juliana and her multidimensionality. Was he wrong about her? Does he have the right to be mad at her? Is he even mad at her? Why would she have a crush on him, if she even did? Kieran felt as if he was short-circuiting from the swirling contemplation. 

He was ages away from speaking as Juliana continued to blubber. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do! I don’t know how to make up for what happened with Ogerpon! And it breaks my heart to keep seeing you get so angry without knowing how to fix it!” 

"Juliana, I..." he starts, staring aimlessly at the wall behind her as his voice trails off. “I didn’t realize…” 

"Of course you didn't," she weakly replies against him to the point where it was difficult to hear. "You're too busy seeing me as this perfect person who has it all together, like everyone else. Well, I'm not. And it hurts, Kieran. It hurts.” She repeated, nearly nonsensical.

(Below are notes that follow the direction of the scene):

Kieran feels guilty and hugs Juliana awkwardly

I'm sorry/angry at self / feels disarmed by Juliana's crying

His thoughts eventually grow quiet as she sags further against him and nearly falls asleep 

“We should both go to bed” wanted to escape but didn't want to leave, conflicted 

(J) I’m sorry if I was being too much

(K): Thats the second time you said that/improved ability to observe Juliana

Was she afraid of taking up space? Starts to see how difficult that must be

Closes door abruptly, holds his hands to his face where Juliana touched him

~EMBARRASSED EMO ~ / Reflection on duality of relationship

[nuppu-nuppu]

Hey guys 🍉, do you know any good and trustworthy charities that are raising money to help the people in gaza? Looking for recommendations!!!!

I was inspired by some other artists doing this but I thought that in exchange for you guys donating to a charity for gaza, as much as you want (it doesn’t have to be much, just what you can) I would draw you a sketch of a character of your choice!

[spamgyu]

Some carats are throwing out their merch like babez it's your money 😭

babes...... kpop is never THAT serious.......

[jane-lynndrake-t]

Well. I’ve read the obituary.

Good news: my plan for Drake industries worked.

Bad news: the people who were involved in the writing of my obituary are THE MOST PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE, BACKHANDED, COWARDLY, TWO FACED ASSHOLES.

Worse news: the nightmare I had about choking on blood and dying? Not a just a nightmare.

Worst news: I don’t remember the baby becoming a toddler, then a child, then a kid, then a teenager.

Best news: the me I don’t remember was hilarious.

Hold on I need to find a way to show you guys this thing. Hmm. Printing it out and sticking it into this journal might be a stretch… but the things I write with are normal pens and you can see them.

[originalcontent]

Given the bajillion different interpretations of vampires out there, in your opinion which flaw is the most fundamental to them and should be present in every adaptation?

[zombiekillerbiceps]

Slow, Slow Steel

Content: 14k words, re4r Leon, knife play, Dom!Leon, Leon X Reader, no Y/N, pain play, sadism, size kink, glove kink (barely), praise, angst, comfort

You and Leon experiment with knife play for the first time...

The sliver of steel glinted in the moonlight, it's point hovering above your hips. Anticipation pooled in your stomach. You squeezed your thighs together to prevent it from turning into impatience, or else you might tilt your hips up towards it like you would Leon's touch. It hovered there, not making contact but so achingly close. Was he hesitating? Building up tension?

It was late into the night. The shadows in your bedroom were heavy and your figures were barely illuminated by the street lamps outside. The city, for once, was quiet. Holding it's breath with you. The only sounds were fat raindrops hitting the window and your own, shuddering breathing.

Was he going to make you beg for it? You tried to meet his gaze but his eyes were fixated on your body. Then, gentle as a whisper, the tip of the knife brushed against your skin.

It was cold. Goosebumps exploded across your body as you drew a breath. The edge of the knife just barely, barely tracing the v-line of your hip. It grazed so slowly up your belly, making its way towards your ribcage, before it was gone again. You let your breath out slowly, smiling as the adrenaline made your body warm and sensitive.

Leon watched your reaction like a hawk. His own muscles were coiled tight, his biceps flexing with self control. He was trained too well to shake when he was nervous. Hundreds of hours of training and hundreds more of experience ensured he moved with precision and purpose - especially when his blood started racing. When a single mistake could...

"You like that?" He needed to hear you say it. "You want more?"

You nodded, so desperately wanting to feel the blade against your body again. You wanted it a little rougher, a little harder. He could clearly see how turned on you were. The way your thighs squeezed together to stop your hips from rocking, the way your breath shuddered, the way your body quivered at the low timbre of his voice.

"Use your words," he cooed.

"Please?"

Not good enough. His free hand was at the back of your head, buried in your hair. His forearm flexed again with the motion of pulling your hair back, tilting your jaw towards him as his massive frame towered over you. He kept the knife far from both of you, but it's tantalizing glint in the dim light kept your attention. He noticed how wide your pupils got. He heard the soft mewl that escaped you. He felt the way your hips rocked - did you even know what you did to him when you got like this?

"Say it properly," he growled. His eyes were dark and hard, demanding and desperate. He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you like it or we stop right here."

"No! I like it! Fuck, Leon, I love how it feels. Please don't stop," you begged. He'd barely touched you at all and here you were begging for it already. It was humiliating. The wetness grew between your legs.

"Good girl," he says. His praise makes you blush, makes you all the more eager to please him.

He doesn't move from his position leaning over you. He brings the knife back to your skin, growing hard at the way your breath quickens before he even touches you.

The flat side of the blade presses against your belly. He drags it upwards, now with enough force to really feel it. If the blade were flipped around, a thin line of red would follow it. It traveled across the softest part of your abdomen, up towards your rib cage. Your abs flexed as you desperately tried to keep still for him. It explored the hills of your rib cage, biting at the soft skin there, before making the climb up your breasts.

Leon's breath was heavy now. He pressed his hips against your thigh and you could feel how hard he was. Fuck, he was enjoying this just as much, wasn't he?

The knife circled your breast. From the bottom, around the top near your collar bone, and then inwards. The tip of the knife grazed against your nipple and you almost cry out. Then it's gone again.

You whimper. Your hands are on his bicep, feeling the solid muscle there that drove you crazy, trying to bring the feeling back. His free hand gently strokes your hair, then your face. He was wearing those fingerless black gloves he wore for work. The worn leather caressing your cheek, his soft fingertips tracing your features. Your cheeks were red and flushed, your lips parted.

He was always transfixed by your mouth. His thumb traced your cheek bone, your jaw, your chin, then brushed your bottom lip. Again, this time with more force, gently opening your mouth for him. Fuck, you looked so hot like that.

Your tongue flicked out against his thumb, inviting him in. His eyes widened. You drew his thumb into you mouth, licking, sucking, biting. You found it almost funny how quickly you could turn the tables on him.

His hand was grasping your jaw then. Hard. Hard enough to leave bruises and he was barely using any force. There was dark humour in his eyes, and you felt the meaning behind them. You really thought you had any control here? His voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Did you forget I'm the one with the fucking knife?"

Cold, hard metal pressed against your ribcage. You gasped, but his frame pinned you in place. It was still only the dull side but it hurt when he sliced it across your body.

You moan. Tears pricking your eyes. Your body was so hot it felt like it was on fire. You wanted him to hurt you more. You wanted him to press that knife against your throat and fuck you. The wetness between your legs was unbearable, you needed more. Your hands grasped at his arms, his chest, too needy to notice how he stiffened.

He could kill you.

The thought crossed his mind the first time you brought this up, and again the second that knife first kissed your skin, but seeing the tears collect in your eyes, it was all he could think.

The bruises were already growing on your jaw and he didn't even realize he'd done it. He looked over your body, naked and vulnerable for him, and all he could see was years of training beating into him where the vital organs were. Which major arteries would cause you to bleed out. Even with the flat side of the blade, his brain was finding all the ways he could hurt you. Really hurt you. Without even breaking a sweat. Without even meaning to.

What scared him most was the part of him that wanted to.

"Baby?" Your hands on his cheeks drew him back to you. Your gentle touch, your beautiful eyes, the concern for him that clearly showed on your flushed features.

A gloved hand wove through your hair as he pulled you close and pressed your foreheads together. His breath was harsh and ragged, his cock still straining hard against you, a thin streak of wet against your thigh. You squeezed your legs together to calm yourself, then shifted so you were facing him with his body between your legs.

"I know you would never hurt me," you tell him, running your hands over his shoulders comfortingly, shamefully pushing aside the part of you that was getting hot again thinking of his strength.

He pulls away and looks at you, searching. You smile reassuringly.

"We can stop if you want to," you say.

He lets out a long breath, his body relaxing. He leans forward and kisses you. Sweet, at first. Quickly growing sloppy, messy, wet. His free hand tucks around the back of your thigh, squeezing the sensitive skin there hard enough to make you moan.

"I don't want to stop," he groaned. He shifted his hips, pressing his cock against the warmth of your cunt.

He shoved you back down. His forearm across the broad of your chest, holding you down against the bed like it was nothing. His fingers dug into your shoulder, bruising you. He pushed his hips against you, grinding himself against your dripping pussy with an intensity that surprised you. The choked-back groans he let out reminded you of a wild animal desperate to either fuck or tear you apart.

He brought the knife back up to where you could see it. The city lights glinting off it's surface. His gloved hand flexing around it's hilt. Did he just want to remind you that he was in charge? He kept grinding against you, his muscles tight with restraint, encouraged by the way you moaned and whimpered for him. Seeing him like this... was exciting. It scared you.

He slammed the knife into the bedside table, burying it an inch deep in solid wood like it was butter. He flashed that stupid, cocky smile. Show off.

He kissed you again. You pulled him closer with your legs, and he finally, finally pushed his cock into you. It slid in easily, the sound of how wet you were making a noise that would have made you blush if it weren't for how fucking badly you needed him.

He fucked you like that, hard and unrelenting, with the knife buried in the bedside just inches away.

[napping-sapphic]

Rate nap arrangements? I'll start:

Big spoon: excellent. I am grabbing you so tightly sorry. 10/10

Little spoon:👁👁 Someone Is Behind Me. Also, wtf do I do with my arms. kinda hurts my shitty shoulders. 3/10

Head on her chest: I am so comfy cozy :3 but also worried about crushing her. 9/10

Her head on my chest: yay comfy cozy have a kissy on the forehead also No Harm Shall Befall You. I Would Fight God To Allow You This Comfort Forever. Who said that. 100/10

What are your most notable/favorite ones and how do you rate them?

I feel like i’m about to disappoint yall so bad but to be completely honest my favorite way to nap is alone🙃😭

Most of these positions or just being trapped in any one position for too long in general would cause the devil himself to try and sneak into my bones and kill me via joint pain so it makes that kind of thing a little complicated😅

I also don’t like being touched unless i’m really very close to and comfortable with the person so i honestly haven’t done much pair napping and it usually ends up being the other person falling asleep on me while i just sorta stay awake🤷‍♀️ in those cases it’s usually:

8/10 mentally i appreciate so much that they trust me enough to do that

But also

2/10 physically oof ouch ow

Idk though will have to find more people capable of jumping my ridiculously high emotional hurdles to help me find better nap positions🤔

[untimelyambition]

i am begging on my hands and knees for jon matteson and bryce charles to sing a song together. since i first watched npmd, every single day without fail i have thought about their harmonies together in hatchet town (“if he gets me next i could be three” and “fits the bill, he fits the bill”) literally the sickest harmonies in the entire show, i turn into a little gremlin every time i hear them. their voices sound SO good together it actually makes me a little ill. my favourite song my favourite line my favourite harmonies, their voices blend perfectly and i am so desperate to hear them sing a duet to hear them singing together again pls pls please pls pls pls. pls.