#ask me things

[autistic-pebbles-au]

Does arti have a little pebbles plush in their shelter (in the blog header)?

Yup! It's there next to her bed

[aieroartstudios]

Woahhh cool ask(idk what to ask myself chat 💔💔💔)

WOAH ITS ME (btw im BACK ONLINE GANG GANGGGG)

[monicalestrange4]

Que buen culito te cargas Moni🤤

Hahahhaha gracias baby 😘

English: What a nice butt moni 🤤

Hahahhaha thanks babe 😘

[deepspacenova]

i have got to know about shifter mephisto. and color changing scales sylus but mostly shifter mephisto

haha so burning question first! The sylus x shifter!mephisto x you concept came from a gorgeous fanart I recently saw of what Mephisto might look like as a human and it got me into character study mood and how tangled this dynamic would be with Sylus (assuming he's maybe an Ever experiment failed/gone wrong that Sylus rescued like the twins?).

I'm imagining a blend of a stockholm syndrome-like need for Sylus' companionship/social interaction, a sort of hero-worship for the man who took him in and leads such a powerful life, and also the dependency on him for food, shelter, safety, etc. So like, of course he wont refuse Sylus' commands, of course he'll stay in crow form unless Sylus says otherwise, of course he doesn't want to disappoint his saviour (and, ironically, also his jailor), who painstakingly tinkered his broken body into a combination of mech and flesh.

Now add MC to the mix.. someone new to interact with. Someone who talks to him, makes clothing for him, treats him like a living being and not a mechanical thing? I think the same thing in Sylus that helplessly falls for MC would also be in Mephisto purely bc wouldn't be able to resist her softness (doesn't help that he would mimic the only other human he interacts with).

But I also think there would be a deep-rooted envy and longing within Mephisto when it comes to you — why do you get to love Sylus out in the open? Why don't you need to listen or serve a purpose to get his attention? Maybe if he can get closer to you, if he can crack the code, he can be that way with Sylus one day too? Anyway it's very messy and tangled and broken and I (clearly) haven't been able to stop thinking about it lol

on the other hand, the inspiration for color changing scales sylus is so unserious lol — put chameleons, the abysm sovereign, and a mood ring into a blender and that's what this is turning out to be. Basically, depending on how reptilian he truly is, I'd like to think in extreme temperatures, danger levels, or even emotions, Sylus' scales might change color.

Though maybe no one but you had ever stuck around long enough (or dared approach close enough) to inform him of this...? :p

[samiramel]

if anyone wants to <333

The Pitt Ask Game

I want people to send me questions about The Pitt, so here’s an ask game with general questions.

Who is your favorite character?

Who is your least favorite character?

Who is your favorite recurring or minor character (i.e., not in the main cast)?

Which episode is your favorite?

Which episode is your least favorite?

Which patient/case is your favorite?

What is your overall favorite scene?

Which scene was the one that had the most emotional impact for you?

Which scene is the funniest to you?

Which character dynamic is your favorite?

Which character dynamic do you want to see more of?

Which doctor would you want to handle your care if you were in the ER?

Which nurse would you want to handle your care if you were in the ER?

If you worked at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, which department would you work for?

Would you rather work day shift or night shift?

Which character do you want to see the most in season 2?

Do you have any have any favorite ships? Which ones?

Do you have any crackships or rarepairs? Which ones?

Which friendship is your favorite?

Tell me your thoughts on [insert character A] and [insert character B]!

What are some of your headcanons for [insert character]?

If you were working on a patient, which doctors or nurses would you want to work with?

You somehow found yourself in the Pitt. What is the most likely (silly) medical reason, and would it happen during the day or night shift?

What storyline do you most want to see in the next season?

After a shift, how would you decompress?

[chlobody]

Who picks out your poses, is it you, the photographer, or a collaboration?

I always pose myself! Occasionally a photographer will ask for a specific pose, or slightly tweak mine to get a better outcome. I never really need guidance and have done this long enough to know my angles, capabilities and creativity under pressure. I appreciate this question!

I take my posing seriously and I’m always trying to improve or challenge myself to get even better, more flexible and more dynamic.

[corpseprxnce]

Hey how are you handling everything?

[bladeechan]

I love tumblr

[thedemonofcat]

Shapeshifter Jaskier seeing one of his colleagues start to grey and being like, "Right, aging."

He then spends the winter subtly incorporating signs of aging into his appearance. He looks rather dashing if he says so himself.

But, when he and Geralt meet up in Spring, the witcher becomes *devastated* at the sight of his "aging" bard.

Geralt brushed Jaskier’s hair back with a careful touch. “You’ve got another grey,” he murmured, his voice laced with something close to regret.

“I know. Soon, I’ll match you,” Jaskier said lightly. “I’d call myself the White Bard, but it doesn’t have quite the same ring as the White Wolf.”

Geralt huffed. “Dove,” he said after a pause. “That’s what we’ll call you when your hair turns completely white.”

Jaskier’s smile was soft. “I like it.”

Geralt didn’t say what was truly on his mind—that he didn’t like Jaskier’s hair greying, didn’t like this reminder that time would eventually take him away.

Jaskier exhaled, as if reading his silence. “I don’t like it either,” he admitted. “But if I want to keep up the illusion of being human, I have to age.” He tilted his head, eyes twinkling. “Give me another fifty years, and I can always return to being young again.”

Geralt just stared, his thoughts scattering like dry leaves in the wind.

[aieroartstudios]

FULL MAGMA FROM TODAY! TYSM TO EVERYONE WHO JOINED! the magma is still open for all this week so yall just join and make a new one if it’s too full!

SPECIAL THANKS TO THOSE WHO PARTICIPATED!

@carb0n-m0n0xide @fregmaster69 @urkotheuppercase @firefoxartz @dib-by @artsandstoriesandstuff @elronthemage @ anyone that I missed I’m sorry chat

TY TO ANYONE WHO DID FANART ILY SM 💅💜💖(platonically im aroace🥀🥀🥀)

[monicalestrange4]

Hola Moni, veo que usas mucha tanguita y que rico, pero la pregunta es, que te gusta usar más de interior? O cuál es tu preferencia?

Aww jeje, la verdad es que prefiero los pantys normales, bien cómodos 😌💕Las tanguitas y los encajes los uso más para foticos o cuando me siento sexy sexy~ 🔥¡Todo depende del mood del día! 👙

English: Hi Moni, I see you wear a lot of thong and that's nice, but the question is, what do you like to wear more underwear? Or what is your preference?

Hehe aww~ I actually prefer regular comfy panties 😌💕 Thongs and lacy ones are more for pics or when I’m feeling extra sexy~ 🔥 It all depends on the mood of the day! 👙✨

[ghoulishhx]

we (the voices in my head and I) need part 2 of please don’t go. So much angst omg!!

aaa all the love on pt1 has me so happyy, thank you!! i hope this satisfys the voices in your head until pt 3!!

part 1 - please don't go ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ part 3 - babygirl, i love you

My Masterlist!

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content: angst to the extreme, swearing, characters thoughts displayed with italics

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: @sydneybowbidney @tinyminxie (you two commented wanting part 2 so i thought you may want a tag too!)

──── ୨୧ ────

✦ acceptance

It had been two weeks since Frank left you alone in your apartment, ripping your heart out and tossing you to the side as if you were nothing.

It felt as if you were living in a nightmare, you kept pinching yourself trying to wake up, hoping its all your mind playing tricks on you. You hoped you would wake up in his arms as he embraced you, telling you it’s all okay because Frankie's here, kissing your forehead and rubbing the small of your back as the fear washed away.

But no, this is reality. Your new reality.

You swear you experienced all five stages of grief in the time without him, 

Denial. There was no way he meant what he said, right? He had to feel something for me, had to care about me even in the slightest, the way he made love to me, the way he held me and peppered kisses on my face telling me how beautiful I am. You mean to say that meant nothing?

Bargaining. Maybe I should call him, try and talk to him, sort this out. Being left in the dark like this, alone not knowing if he was dead or alive is slowly killing me, one call won't hurt.. right?

Depression. The first week hit you like a tonne of bricks, you barely left your apartment, your bed even, taking days and days off of work continuously. His outburst and disappearance hit you like a tonne of bricks, rendering you helplessly and barely able to function. 

Acceptance. Yeah fuck that right now, you're not ready for that. Let's skip to:

Anger. 

And this is how you're feeling today. How could he do this, after you exposed yourself so intimately in more ways than one, he was the only person to see you fully naked. He held you while you cried and told you he would never leave your side. You fully understand that it may have been far too much to handle in the beginning, knowing about his trauma and how it still affects him. But this was so unlike him to push you so far away, you think now that your relationship seemed to now have been purely transactional. You patch him up for free, no questions asked and then he fucks you until you can't walk as payment. 

Was he just fucking using me? 

The thought made your stomach churn, anger bubbling and sickness rising. You begin pacing back and forth in your dark and empty bedroom, subduing the urge to pick something up and toss it across the room. That's when you hear it.

tap tap tap

You have GOT to be shitting me

Leaving the room and walking towards the source of the noise, you see him. Sat at the fire escape, the rain pours as it drenches him. You honestly want to just leave him out there, hoping the harsh weather conditions wash him away. 

“Lemme in doll, it's fuckin’ freezin’ out here.. Please?”

You sigh as you stomp over to him, opening the lock on the window and turning away instantly as he climbs in. You leave the room, going into the kitchen to grab your first aid kid. Why else would he be here?

He fully steps inside now, removing his soaked boots so as to not mess up any of your rugs or carpet, taking his dripping coat off and hanging it on the nearby dining chair, you take in his form as he turns to face you. 

Dark circles are formed under his eyes, his five ‘o’ clock shadow heavily visible under the grown out stubble. You can tell he hasn't been eating properly in the weeks past without you, his cheeks hollow. Your eyes meet his for a second before you look away, there was an unrecognisable emotion displayed in them, one you have never seen before. 

He looks down at your hands, noticing the big red medical box. He can't help but chuckle at the gesture,

“ ‘M not here for that sweetheart, I just really needed to see ya.”

“Oh.. okay,” you mumble, surprised. You place the box on the table beside him. “Then why are you here, Frank? Made it pretty clear last time you didn't want to be around me.” you raise your eyebrow as you tilt your head, crossing your arms in front of you. 

“That’s why I'm here, actually..” He looks down at his feet, moving one of his hands to the back of his head. “I just wanted to say ‘m sorry, should never have said what I said.”

“Oh, you're sorry?” you laugh, genuinely dumbfounded by his words. “Where was this two weeks ago Frank, you just allowed this much time to pass without a fucking word, I-I didn't even know if you were okay, you could've died on some other person's fucking rooftop and I would never have known.” rage consumes you, all of your pent up emotions you've been harbouring finally spilling out. “I emptied my heart out to you, and you just fucking left me.” you can't fight the tears that are forming over your eyes, your vision blurring. 

“I know, I know baby I fucked up. I shouldn't have left it so long, I just.. didn't think you'd wanna see me, after the way I left..” he steps closer to you, reaching out his arms to you, you pull away, making him retreat his gesture as he looks down to the ground. You can tell he genuinely feels terrible, it's evident in his body language.

“You're damn fucking right. Leading me on like you did fucking hurt Frank, I thought we had something.. something good. But you made it pretty goddamn clear you don't want me. You said something along the lines of, you wish I left you to die so you didn't have to go through this.” you turn away, putting your hands over your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears that have bubbled over, the air in the room has suddenly thickened excruciatingly so. You struggle to breathe, your body finally catching up to itself after running on pure adrenaline during your entire interaction with him. 

“C'mon.. tell me what I gotta do to make it up to you sweetheart. You want me to go?” he inches closer towards you tentatively, placing his large hand on your shoulder softly as to not startle you. “Just say the words baby and I’ll go, alright? Whatever ya need doll, I'll give ya anything you want.”

───────────────────────────────

FRANK'S POV

It's been two long fucking weeks. No matter what he does, he can't help but think of you.

He took on extra shifts in his day job, keeping himself busy so his mind does inevitably wonder to you, he would patrol Hell's Kitchen into the early hours of the morning whenever he finished work. He rarely went back to his shitty apartment anymore, the thought of being alone was too daunting. He knew if he allowed himself to think even for a second he would instantly rush back to you. But this is for the best, right? He truly believed he didn't deserve you, your kindness, your compassion, your beauty. He was beneath you, you could have anyone you wanted but you chose him? He felt like it was an insult to yourself, settling for such a broken shell of a man. 

Everything reminds him of you, the moment he hears anyone speak your name in public he turns his head frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He'd find himself walking mindlessly through your neighbourhood late at night, stopping at your house and just staring at it for a while. Watching as your shadow moves through the apartment as you switch your lights off ready for bed.

God how he craved being in that same bed with you, holding you, feeling your soft skin with his calloused. The warmth of your body soothed him, knowing you were safe all tucked up in his arms. But that's over now, he made his decision. 

He couldn't help the words that flowed out of his mouth that night, the hurtful things he stated cutting you apart right before his very eyes. Just because he was too much of a pussy to come to terms with his feelings for you, too self absorbed to think about anyone else for a goddamn change. 

He couldn't stop himself from coming to your apartment tonight, his feet moving in your direction subconsciously. Only did he return to his body when he felt his knuckles against the cool glass of your window. He looked in, the soft ember glow of your candles, a sickly reminder of what he's been missing these past two weeks. The warmth of the room being a bitter reminder of the cold words he spat at you the last time he was here. That's when he saw you emerge from your bedroom. 

She looks tired, fuck has she been sleeping at all? Her clothes are hanging off of her, probably hasn't eaten much either. His eyes travelled all over your dishevelled form, feeling his chest tightens into a knot knowing he was the cause. The apartment is a fucking mess, she's never usually like this. Always scrubbing every fuckin’ surface everyday. It took every bit of self restraint to not rush to your side, lifting you up into his arms, cradling you into his chest begging for your forgiveness, to tell you that what you were feeling was reciprocated, 

He loved you too. 

───────────────────────────────

“Just say the words baby and I’ll go, alright? Whatever ya need doll, I'll give ya anything you want.”

The feel of his rough hand on your shoulder, the pads of his fingers on your skin for the first time in forever soothes the war inside your body. Your breathing stabilises, as you turn back around to meet his gaze.

His hand moves from your shoulder to your face as he rubs small comforting circles on the apple of your cheek with his thumb, once this action would instantly soothe you, now it evokes an entirely different emotion.

The way his body feels on yours sickens you to your stomach, knowing you would never have him again, he didn't feel the same way and that's just something you'd have to learn to live with. 

“Just go, Frank.” you shake his touch off of you as you step back. " I love you. We can pretend all we want that it doesn't change anything, but it does. I'm sorry I love you, I wish I fucking didn't.” you sound out in barely a whisper, shocked if he even heard you at all. "It's not fair on either of us. Just leave.”

You close your eyes to try and barricade the tears from falling. Your feeble attempts are rendered useless as the floodgates open, shaking sobs erupt from your core, each tear laced with anger and sorrow. He attempts to approach you once more, his hand reached out to you,

“Baby girl, I lo-”

“Fucking go, Frank.” you cut him off, your volume increasing to a yell as you point to the window behind you. Opening your eyes to look at him as the demand leaves your mouth, letting him know you were dead serious. 

“If that's what ya want.” his face is emotionless, his words stark and monotonous. He retreats his outstretched hand, shoving it into his pocket as turns from you, grabbing his belongings, climbing out of the window not even bothering to put his boots back on.

He looks back to you once more, hoping to catch a final glimpse of you, but you're already gone, already having climbed back into your empty bed as you sobbed hard into your pillow. 

Acceptance.

──── ୨୧ ────

a/n: this fucking hurtt to write i could sob. i wrote this listening to my sad playlist at 6am so LOL. hope you all enjoy, pt3 will definitely be out at some point too, i can't leave this series here with good conscious

my inbox is open!

[autistic-pebbles-au]

[ The Office - Iterator's Special ]

Just couldn't ignore these asks any longer nskxnsj

[pechaghtlecha]

I keep forget answering this thiingg aahhhhh, u get a Dragon Damijon, well dragon Dami, macaw Jonny lol

See ya, love ya 😘👉

[thedemonofcat]

I just realized that Geralt in fics being like, "Sorry I was an asshole. I know you can't forgive me, but what about *Ciri*?" is him babytrapping Jaskier.

“What about Ciri?”

Jaskier stared at him, mouth parting in disbelief.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“She needs you,” Geralt said, voice low. “She’s got power. She’s stubborn. She sings your songs when she thinks no one’s listening.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m her father!”

“You're not,” Geralt said. “But she loves you like one. And… I think you love her back. Even if you don’t want to love me anymore.”

Jaskier stood up so fast the chair scraped back hard.

“This—this is manipulation, Geralt. You disappear for months, break my heart, and come crawling back not because you regret it, not because you want me, but because you want your child to have two parents?”

“No,” Geralt said quickly, standing too. “I came back because I regretted it the moment I left. I came back because I want you. But I brought Ciri because… I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” Jaskier snapped. “You thought bringing the girl would be your golden ticket? What is this, babytrapping now?”

Geralt winced. “Not like that. Gods, not like that. I just… I thought if you couldn’t forgive me, maybe you’d still stay. For her. And then maybe—just maybe—you’d see I’m not the same man I was when I pushed you away.”

Jaskier’s face was unreadable.

Then, from the stairwell, a small voice called: “Jaskier?”

They both turned. Ciri stood in oversized sleep clothes, a book tucked under one arm.

“Can you sing me that song again?” she asked. “The one about the basilisk that wasn’t really a basilisk?”

Jaskier’s shoulders sank. His jaw clenched. He looked from her, to Geralt, then back again.

“…Yeah,” he said finally. “Yeah, I can

[deepspacenova]

........so they're just always that firm and shapely, huh.......no wonder he grabs his own ass at the café....... 😔😔

THEY ARE!!! THEYRE BIG JUICY BUNS AND I WANT TO BITE THEM

I also need to point out the other side, because i noticed a little crease that is coming around the mid-ass region which means that fabric is straininggg to fit that bakery.

No wonder he wanted to stop walking in his card preview, the man’s pants were 5 seconds from splitting if he walked any further 😭