#be nice please :)))

[pinkcarabiner]

future milf but in a femme way💖⭐️

MEN DO NOT INTERACT

[vzmpyr3i]

i’d like a relationship but not in a sexual sorta way, kinda like being at peace with each others presence silently, both of us doing different things but still being aware of each other being there. There’s just some sort of comfort in being like that. Cuddle, but not in a romantic way, but in a way to appreciate each others warmth, more or so platonic. feeling at ease around them, not having to mask with them.

[dapperenby13]

I’ve just started season 2 so please no spoilers. But how could I not love him. He’s literally purple and green, two of the best colors.

[whillywisp]

Stardust. Hard not to love what you know.

Summary: You hadn't lived a single day of your life without the sea or Finnick, even after he was reaped, even after he was turned into a ruthless killer and then the Capitol's most prized possession, trapped behind it's gilded bars like a songbird. Only instead of a song crying for help, he just spoke the words that came to him the easiest and you took them and caged them in your skin, turned yourself into a gallery for his art.

Or.

Writer Finnick who's love language is writing on his lover's skin, the only place he allows himself to be free.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

'I see a little bit of me in everyone. Stardust. hard not to love what you know. we are all the universe in drag.'

On the surface, everyone knew Finnick Odair as he presented himself, like his life is a theatre performance and he only really took the most perfect, untainted, beautifully crafted parts of himself out into the spotlight but left the more ugly, broken and vulnerable parts of him behind the velvet red curtains before show time.

But most people didn't know that he didn't just leave the parts of himself most beautiful just floating mid air when they weren't needed but rather imprinted on your skin in the form of words and ink. Because that was only meant for you to see.

For your whole life, it had always been you, the sea and Finnick, from the day you had grabbed the small golden haired boy's little finger at the beach and asked him to be your friend over the sound of the waves, your hair covered in sand and cold pebbles as winter air made you both shiver. You hadn't lived a single day of your life without the other two, even after he was reaped, even after he was turned into a ruthless killer and then the Capitol's most prized possession, trapped behind it's gilded bars like a songbird. Only instead of a song crying for help, he just spoke the words that came to him the easiest and you took them and caged them in your skin, turned yourself into a gallery for his art.

The world will never see him in peaceful moments like this, his head in your lap, no responsibilities or unwanted touches making his shoulders slump under the weight of them as he scribbles words into the delicate, scarred skin of your forearm, words that you know you'll take to Delilah, the only tattoo artist in District 4 and make them yours forever. The world will never see his concentrated frown as he thinks slowly and makes sure the words express exactly how he feels in that moment, caging the moment in them forever.

You stroke his hair gently with your free hand, your own whipping around in the cool night breeze, watching his pen glide against your skin and the way the ink smudges on the uneven surface, broken by old scars that told a story of their own. He looked too adorable like this, entirely engrossed in his work that you can't help but press a gentle kiss to the frown between his eyebrows, making green eyes the colour of the sea lapping against the shores in front of you look up at you in surprise and barely concealed adoration.

"What?" His voice is gentle above the sound of the waves and you smile, shaking your head, your hair fall forward to make a protective curtain around the two of you.

"Nothing, you just look precious like this. All concentrated and lost in thought." You lean down again, this time pressing a kiss to his lips. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against your own and his green eyes just seem brighter than the full moon shining overhead.

"Adorable huh? I have a reputation to maintain, darling. Don't go around ruining it," he teased, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he grins up at you. You laugh, pulling your hand away from his grip and the tip of his pen, to gently stroke his cheek with your finger tips.

"No one could touch your reputation even if they tried." You say with a chuckle and it's true. No one could destroy the reputation he had crafted so perfectly over the years as the Capitol's darling and in some ways, you wished you could burn them down to ashes and let the world see your beautiful boy but you knew you were too selfish, too greedy for him to be yours and yours alone to ever let that happen. Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he smiles up at you, and shook his head.

"You could. You could if you wanted to, and I'd let you, happily. If my downfall does have to come someday, I hope you bring it upon me." Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest at that and you shake your head, pressing another kiss to his lips. This was devotion and you always wondered what it was you did that made you worthy of it. "I could never hurt you, in any way. You are my everything."

His eyes flutter close at that and he smiles, his voice soft as if he didn't even want the sea to listen in on his confession. "And you are mine."

A peaceful silence falls over you both and you can't help but remember the words he was scribbling onto your arm earlier and you look down at him again, a small smile on your face. "Can I see what you wrote today?" Finnick never wanted you to read incomplete words, and you never tried to. He always clapped his hand down on your skin or closed his notebook when you asked him and he told you they weren't ready to be seen. Even when they were in plain sight, like now, you averted your gaze, because you'd never break his trust. Not like this.

He smiles up at you sheepishly and looks away, his hands fidgeting with his pen. "They're not mine today, not originally anyways. But everytime i think of them, they remind me of you."

You raise an eyebrow, your fingers gently turn his face to look back at you. "Oh? Just a poem then, from another writer?" He nods slowly, his hand coming up to cradle yours against his cheek. "Something like that. You can read it."

You smile and raise your forearm to your eyelevel, squinting through the now smudged ink and trying to look at it with the full moon light.

'What I feel for you cannot be conveyed in phrasal combinations, it either screams out loud or it stays painfully silent but I promise you — it beats words. It beats worlds.'

You blink before looking down at him, his green eyes wide as he looks up at you and you lean down to kiss his lips again, properly now. He responds in kind, his hand coming up to cradle your face like you're something precious and you fall a few feet deeper into him. "That's so beautiful."

He smiles against your lips, looking up at you with his boyish grin. "Isn't it? Everytime i think of it, all i can think of in relation is you." Every bit of grief in your body melts away at that, and you can't help the intense wave of emotions for the precious boy in your lap that washes over you.

"I love you," the words tumble from your lips like a prayer. "I love you. More than the years you or i live, more than the beats our combined hearts beat, i love you."

He smiles, moving away to sit up and then tug you into his lap, his eyes soft as he peers at your glossy eyes. He gently leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, his arms tight around you.

"I love you too, more than any amount of words I write. Thank you for taking these...parts of me and making them yours. Even the parts the rest of the world would resent."

You shake your head and smile, kissing him again. "Every part of you is mine, just like everything that makes me is yours. Hard not to love what you know. And the truest thing you can know is yourself."

A sigh of content escapes him and his arms just tighten around, "I love me then? The me in you? The me that melds with you?" His voice soft, as if slowly coming to accept these parts of him as something to love, to cherish like he loved and cherished you.

The smile you give him is blinding, just like the one you had given him all those years ago with missing teeth and wild hair, marking the start of the most beautiful moment in your life. "Yes. Yes you do."

And in that moment you forget there's a world outside this beautiful boy you've made home in.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

A/N: I've always wanted to explore writter Finnick because i think we all moved on from that way, way too quickly. written literally right now, as fresh as Peeta's bread out of the oven. With words of Nizar Qubbani and other little bits that make me scattered in along with this one quote that i can't get out of my head, i give you 'Stardust. Hard not to love what you know'. (I threw the sad one shot into my wips list and decided this was more important. I barely ever write for the public and this is actually my first full length one shot so please be gentle and dont break my poor heart xo. And i promise I'm working on young god hehe.)

[hellowoolf]

coming soon…

chapter i is out!

series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company.

authors note: this is my first ever fic! really just putting out a feeler to see if people enjoy my writing style. hope you like this little snippet…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it wasn’t meant to be joel, you don’t think.

there is an existence, somewhere and nowhere and between all things, in which you move through life, lift it up and spin it round and balance the thing on your knuckles. in the quiet moments on patrol, when the wind dances past you like it’s normal and you’re alive, you feel that within you. there is a life, some other cosmic creation far from this one, where you are living. it’s a hard thing, sometimes, to feel the frayed ends of what you might’ve been on your shoulder blades; you tickle yourself, that imaginary woman from an imaginary universe, like lace and pulled string. she is good. you would have been good. this, at least, you had to hold onto.

you figure, if you’d ever had a choice, you wouldn’t have been the type of woman to love the type of man joel was. but here you were, and there he was, and the whole thing now was torn apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

let me know what you thought! if people enjoy this little piece i’ll release the first chapter as soon as i can <3

[solemnswearings]

me when zar published their fics again: 😮🫣☺️🥹🤔

now can we be nice and respectful and good people this time around pretty please and thank you? perfect.

[returnofahsoka]

thought i'd do an art vs artist this year

[jamieamieanimator]

Hey! Decided to try one of those 'ask blog' thingies. This is mainly for fun, but feel free to ask anything!

[willshipanything-blog]

Rules of the Game- Chapter 2

Just finished the second chapter of my new fic!

Chapter Index here.

Or go to the work on AO3 to leave a comment if you're feeling up to it! Tags on AO3, but generally gonna get darker so minors DNI!

Chapter 2: Blindness

The first sense that came back to you was touch. You felt a spongy surface beneath your aching body, damp and cold and rough. Slowly regaining your faculties, you were welcomed by a dull ache vibrating through your skull. Rolling your head to assess the pain only made it sting more, and you grunted weakly. 

As much as your head pounded, you forced yourself to try and remember what had happened to leave you in this sorry state. A vague recollection of memories buzzed in your head, like a clip show on a static television. A kid – broken eggs – a van – a man in black. Him. That man, you’d been helping him. He had tricked you. 

The sudden clarity of the remembrance snapped you back to the present and you bolted upright far too quickly. You winced at the sudden pain radiating through your skull, inhaling sharply through your teeth as your head spun. You held back the urge to vomit, instead trying to catch your breaths in between retching. Your already arid throat constricted in agony. You tried to look about, but a stygian darkness surrounded you. Were you blindfolded, or was this place pitch black? 

You decided to focus on more pressing matters at that moment. Trying to locate the source of the worst pain, you dabbed blindly at your face, prodding soft tissue that felt bruised and boggy. Your fingertips came away wet, no doubt with blood from your abused skin.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, I wouldn’t want them to get infected.”

An insidious voice coming from the void beyond turned your bones to ice. Although somewhat muffled, it cut through you like a dagger. You choked out a gasp and retreated back on what you assumed was a small bed. Your back collided with a smooth stone wall, knocking your already injured head into it. Whilst your body tried to cope with this assault, you heard footsteps drawing near. A small sigh from somewhere imperceptibly above you sank lower, and you heard a steady, low breathing uncomfortably close to your own shaky breaths.   

“You know, you really did a number on me back there. You broke my glasses too, you little bitch. You’re lucky I didn’t slice your throat right there in the street. See this bruise on my face? Ah, you can’t see shit, can you?” An arm waved invisibly in the abyss before you. 

The words helped click your memories into place like a lock. Every detail of the act came reeling through your mind, hurtling back at full speed now; the cruel trick with the coin, something bitter stinging your face, being heaved into the van, trying pitifully to fight back and, finally, being pummeled into unconsciousness. This man, this monster hovering in front of your blindness had done this to you. And judging by his spiteful words, worse was yet to come. Your fatigued body wouldn’t move, betraying you once more. All you managed were heavy, panicked breaths that were now overcoming you, shaking you uncontrollably. Firm hands grasped your upper arms, rubbing them slowly.

“Hey, hey, take a breath. You’re ok now, I won’t hurt you.” 

You might have laughed at this statement if you weren’t so terrified in that moment, stuck in his grip. One hand crept up from your arm to gently tuck back a wisp of your hair that had fallen in front of your eyes. It hurt to tug your head away, so instead you furrowed your eyebrows in disgust at the sickeningly tender gesture. You tried unsuccessfully to make sense of the man crouched in front of you. Maniacally violent one minute, warm and reassuring the next. This unpredictability scared you shitless and tears started to swell in your eyes, running down your wounded cheeks. 

Two large hands now moved to your face, palms pressing each cheek softly as his thumbs swept away the tears escaping your eyes. Several rings adorned on his fingers felt cool, somewhat alleviating the heat of your cheeks as they pressed into your bruised skin. You hated that your body had stopped shaking so violently under his hands.

“Come on, there’s no need for tears, I really don’t want to hurt you, dove,” the same nickname from the magic trick he’d done felt taunting to your ears “What I said just now about slitting your throat- I was angry is all. You’re safe, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“You’re–” you croaked meekly, before a finger brushed itself against your lips, stinging slightly where you felt another gash on your face. You didn’t even know how you were going to finish that sentence. You’re lying. You’re going to kill me. You’re completely fucking insane.

“Shh, don’t try to speak right now. We have time to talk later, alright?” the voice purred softly “Get some rest and I’ll bring you a soda soon, hm?” Another small groan escaped the man's lips as he hoisted himself up from a crouch. He seemed to linger above you for a moment before the tread of his steps retreated. A metallic creak from some distance indicated to you that a solid door stood between you and freedom. 

Aware he was about to leave, you urged yourself to say something quickly, your hoarse voice wavering at the thought of addressing the creature in the blackness surrounding you. “You’re the Grabber.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. A feeble statement, barely whispered from your parched lips, barely dared to be spoken, but a fact nonetheless. Despite the terror coursing through your body, you felt a little less helpless at being bold enough to confront him with this truth. 

A puerile giggle traversed the space between him and you. “I said, we can talk later, ok? I’m sure you’re gonna be a good girl who will do as she’s told.” The same sing-song voice that had been used to lure you in now seemed to ridicule you for your stupidity. 

You heard the door shut in place with a heavy thud, followed by a locking click. Staying silent and stiff against the wall, you expected another trick. Anticipated that the Grabber would still be in the room with you, and after all his reassurances of safety would lunge for your throat with a knife, dispatching you swiftly to be stashed with the rest of his victims. When that didn’t happen, you allowed yourself to exhale slowly, trying hopelessly to lower your pounding heartbeat. Your adrenaline high from the confrontation with him had mollified, and in its place the pain had returned. 

You were too dehydrated to cry any more tears, instead hiccupping dry intakes of breaths. Trying to think of your next steps only furthered the pain in your skull. With no hope of reprieve from the agony in your head and the discomfort permeating throughout your entire body, not to mention your clouded sight, you simply laid down gently and, somehow, slept. 

Perhaps it was a small mercy that your vision had failed you. You hadn’t yet seen the masked figure of the Grabber, the piercing cerulean eyes with their predatory glint that had surveyed almost every inch of you, examining his newest slab of meat with malicious intent as your shivering frame sobbed pathetically beneath him.  

And so the it begins again. Al reveled in this feeling, the start of a new venture that he was sure to savor. She was almost a perfect substitution for his usual sacrificial lamb, terrified and confused as they all are at the beginning. She didn’t plead, though. Interesting. That was usually the first thing they said- ‘Please, let me go…I won’t tell anyone… I don’t wanna die’. She had declared he was the Grabber, the nickname always so pleasing when he read it in the papers, and it was just as delicious to his ears from the sweet voice of his new little dove (that name another little addition he was beginning to enjoy). She knows what’s coming, her inevitable end, smart girl indeed. Perhaps she won’t put up a fight if she’s already given up hope. That wouldn’t be very fun now, but time will tell. The game has only just begun. 

[lovesomesys]

The Stars Aligned

A Helluva Boss / Hazbin Hotel fanfic!

Written by me :D

Please feel free to leave feedback!! :D

[crispy-crust]

sorry if this looks bad it's mostly just meant to be a shitpost

based on:

[pinkcarabiner]

living my best pink femme princess life👑💘

MEN DO NOT INTERACT

[reformedpeasant]

who fell asleep in >>>>>

(me singing<<<<)

[coffee-stainedwriting]

Sickle sighs & potent lies eye mirrors & the traveler Follow him like a shadow Then delve into his heart and pull him into the meadow

Ignite the flame of rectitude But they burnt it to a crisp Let him trickle ruin through the towns Then move on to the next Don the sky in a cloak of brown

Liberty runs through the rivers Still he walks His brain is his haven And that abundance Is his sin

Original poem by me, as published on allpoetry.com

Thanks for reading <3

[5cythz]

So, not my normal post, I’m still working on the next comic pages buuuuuuuttt.. I got impulsive today and decided to create this. Have a random animatic based on the idea of the Kraang making Leo choose which of his siblings the Kraang would kill. I read this fanfiction forever ago and I highly suggest you go check it out! All creds to the original author! @hawkeye1991 on ao3! Go read the fic!!!

First ever animatic, hope y’all enjoy!

[paradoxo8y]

Kung-fu Panda OCs! Because the new trailer was cool af

Jaguar - her name's Yue, she traveled to China at a young age and now work in a shop, sometimes she practices kung-fu with Kuai

Fox- Here's Kuai, she trains kung-fu and more often than not she brings Yue along on her "adventures"

Frying lemur - He's Angin, his name come from a filipino word and means wind (take that with a pinch of salt, google tradutor was my source), he's friends with Kuai

Blue boa - The snake is Magnolia, a flower name to tree boa sounded cute and I went along with it, she work at the restaurant next door and is Yue friend

Beetle - Jian, he and Yue work in the same store, they are not exactly friends, but sometimes he goes along with them

Owl - Lieren, he's Magnolia boss and friend, also starting to get really tired of dealing with Kuai bullshit and Yue distracting Magnolia at work time