#but I know whose fault it is

[marvelmusing]

JESS I NEED YOU

RIGHT NOW

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Also not me getting ideas with these photos about very famous R&B star!Billy Russo...

THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL US ALL

HELP

Also not me getting ideas because of these photos about very famous R&B star!Billy Russo....

That smooth, smooth voice of his waxing poetically about all the supposed girls he's been with when it really is just you......

The purple lighting is certainly doing something

[Warnings 18+]: smut, unprotected sex, Fem!Reader, thigh riding, dirty talk, size kink, creampie, hint of pain kink from Billy and reader, little bit of choking

-

Imagine Billy performing in a bar before he gets his big break, and you accidentally bump into him after his performance. Maybe you spill your drink over him but he insists on buying you a new one and the two of you get talking.

When you see his name on a poster at different bar in town you decide to drop by, and his face lights up when he spots you.

As his fame grows he releases more music and the fans are obsessed with him. The two of you remain friends and he teasingly refers to you as his number one fan. He always makes sure to keep you out of the spotlight even when you go to as many of his gigs as possible.

He asks for your opinion on everything. The two of you spend countless days together when he’s writing new music. He shares his new songs with you - even when the lyrics make you blush - and he loves seeing your reaction to everything he does.

It’s only when Billy performs at a huge club that you end up making a move.

He’s buzzing as he performs, eyes alight with excitement, loose strands of hair hanging over his forehead as he moves about the stage. His skin glows under the lights as sweat glistens over the hollow of his throat.

Swallowing hard at the sight of him, you continue to watch from backstage as he sings. Billy is the best friend you’ve ever had, of course you found him attractive, but you had never let that get in your head. Or at least, you thought you hadn’t.

As you’re walking back to his dressing room, a giddy group of fans clamour for his autograph and some photos. A few of them throw out some suggestive comments, inviting for a drink with them. Billy flirts as smoothly as he always does and something in your stomach twists.

But then he declines.

His eyes meet yours for a moment and your heart pounds.

The two of you are quiet as you make it to his dressing room. Usually, you would lounge on the couch for a while, talking about the show and making plans for the next city.

This time, you skip the downtime and you open up your suitcases to begin packing, fuelled by the need to do something with your hands.

Billy leans his shoulder against the doorframe, watching you with his dark eyes. The feeling of his gaze weighing on you doesn’t help the itch of irritation running over your skin.

“Alright, what’s bothering you?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Was it those girls?”

Not looking at him, you fold up one of his shirts and place it in a pile.

“I know you’re a ladies man, Billy. I’m not gonna judge you for flirting.”

He raises a brow at you.

“A ladies man?”

Turning to face him, a scoff leaves your lips when you see the surprise glistening in his eyes.

“Have you even listened to any of your songs?” you remark, thinking over the countless dirty lines you now know by heart.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his tongue tracing over his teeth before he pushes away from the doorframe.

“There’s only one girl I’m ever talking about in my songs.”

His words have a frown pulling at your features. Does Billy have a girlfriend? That he hadn’t told you about? Surely you would have noticed if he was even interested in someone. His next question drags you away from your spiralling thoughts.

“Does it bother you? The flirting?”

As he stands mere inches away from your crossed arms, you raise your chin to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes you shiver even as you attempt to seem nonchalant.

“Why would it?”

He hooks a finger under your chin, stroking his thumb along your jawline. Then he presses the pad of his thumb against your lower lip, heat pools into your stomach as the blood rushes away from everywhere except the spot between your legs.

“You tell me, darlin,” he murmurs.

Then you spot the necklace he’s wearing. The one you had given him for his birthday.

Billy looks as confident as ever, watching as you uncross your arms tentatively. His brow raises slightly as you hook your fingers under his belt to tug him closer. When he moves easily towards you a smile spreads over your lips.

“Because you’re mine,” you state.

Billy only has a few seconds to grin, before you’re claiming his lips with your own. Slowly at first, but the kiss soon turns heated as Billy tilts his head, working his lips against yours hungrily.

He tugs you closer, so that you land against his firm chest. As he drags you both onto the couch, you tug at the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. Billy nibbles on your earlobe as he glances down to tug off your clothes.

You’re both smiling, eager noises of pleasure falling from your lips as you grasp at one another. He spreads your legs before he rocks your hips over his thigh. When you gasp at the sparks lighting up over your body, Billy breathes out a small laugh before he kisses you again.

“All my songs were about you,” he says, his voice a delightful rasp against your skin as he trails hot kisses down your throat. “Every single one of them.”

“Billy,” you whisper softly.

Your head drops down onto his shoulder as he continues to drag your hips over his thigh.

“Thought about you every fucking night since we met.” His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, bucking your hips in a desperate search for more friction. “So I wrote it all down. Every dirty thought, every late night fantasy.”

His words spin around your head, accompanied by thoughts of his lyrics now that you know he was thinking about you when he wrote them.

“Swear you’re right for me, that pussy’s designed for me.”

A whimper catches in your throat as you recognise his words - the ones you’ve heard him sing countless times that never fail to fluster you.

“Billy, fuck, please.”

You can feel his smirk against your neck as you cling to him, nails digging into his bare skin but he doesn’t even flinch. His own nails scrape lightly over your bare thighs as your dress has ridden up to your waist.

He groans lowly when he sees the tiny panties you’re wearing that are now soaked with your arousal.

Billy shrugs off his jacket fiercely, before he’s tugging at his belt.

“Was gonna have you cum on my thigh, then my fingers. Wanted to taste you too.” He pushes his trousers down, revealing his boxer-clad bulge. “But I don’t think I can’t wait.”

You nod in agreement.

“Need you.”

He seems to notice the twinge of apprehension in your eyes as you look down at his cock. Billy strokes himself slowly, hissing at the friction.

“You sure you can take me? Want me to stretch you open a little?” he offers.

You shake your head, lifting yourself up as Billy pulls your panties to one side.

“Take your time,” he murmurs.

One of his hands curls around your thigh, gripping at the soft flesh as you line the head of his cock up to your dripping entrance. He murmurs more encouragement as you begin to lower yourself onto his cock.

“Breathe, baby.”

Exhaling shakily, your nails dig into his shoulders as gravity and the smooth glide of your arousal aids your motions. A broken moan leaves your body as you tighten around him.

“Billy,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes closed as tears track their way down your face. The stretch burns delightfully, and it’s almost too much to bear. The pleasure-pain tingles through your body as you sink lower.

“That’s it baby. Doing so fucking well for me.”

He grips your thigh tightly, his other hand fisted onto the fabric of the couch to prevent himself from pushing you down.

The last few inches seem impossible, as your legs begin to shake.

“Billy I can’t-”

He pats your thigh gently in an attempt as soothing you.

“Yeah you can, baby.”

You shake your head.

“No. I need you to…” A whimper of frustration breaks your words and Billy blinks up at you.

He rolls his hips forward slightly, relishing in the startled breath that leaves you. He grins.

“You need what, darlin? Need me to fuck you?”

“Yes Billy, please.”

“Say it.”

“Need you to fuck me, Billy,” you stammer shakily before you repeat with more confidence, “Please fuck me, Billy.”

He jerks his hips upwards, sliding the last inch of his cock inside you. The motion knocks the air from your lungs and Billy holds onto your body tightly as you squirm at the feeling of being so full.

He presses a hand over your stomach, his thumb stroking over the flushed skin there.

“That better?” he teases.

With a daze look in your eyes, you nod but plead,

“Need more, Billy.”

“More? Darlin, you got my whole cock in you, and you want more?” You nod desperately and Billy breathes out a laugh. “Greedy little thing.”

He then proceeds to bounce you over his cock, thrusting his hips hard against yours as he does. You’re both moaning loudly, every thrust shakes the couch, knocking against the back wall and you wonder if anyone can hear you.

Billy reaches down to your clit, rubbing a few harsh circles there and you clamp down on his cock. He grits his teeth, grasping the back of your neck with his other hand to pull you in for a kiss that you return eagerly.

With your orgasm within touching distance, you drag up the energy to continue bouncing on his cock despite how hard it’s getting with the grip of your pussy clinging to him and lack of help from Billy’s hands.

The hand at the back of your neck moves to curl around your throat, squeezing lightly which makes you want to beg for it harder.

“Whose am I?” You blink at him. “Tell me, baby.”

It takes a few seconds for you to realise what he’s asking for.

“You’re mine,” you whisper. Billy grins. “Mine, mine, mine…” With every word from your lips you thrust hard onto him, claiming him as yours.

“I’m yours,” he breathes out. “And you’re mine. You gonna cum for me now?”

You nod hurriedly.

“Yes, yes Billy, fuck please.”

Pleasure sparkles throughout your body and you moan loudly as you clench hard around his cock, crying out his name. He groans, still holding onto your neck.

No doubt he can feel your pulse thundering beneath his palm, the same rhythm as your pussy as it twitches around his cock. As he continues to rock into you, a whimper catches in your throat.

“I know baby, can you keep going? I’m so fucking close, I swear to God.”

His accent is stronger, honey sweet in your ears as it sinks into your pleasure filled brain. You nod, breaths ghosting against his sweat-soaked skin as you pant.

“Yes please, wanna feel you cum too.”

“Fuck, you’re a fucking angel, you know that? Yeah you are. Yeah.”

He groans loudly, his back arching as he thrusts into you, then you feel him spilling inside you. After a few weak jerks of his hips, he slumps down onto the back of the couch as he catches his breath.

As he does, you brush a loose strand of hair away from his eyes. When you smile shyly at him, he chuckles, urging you closer for a kiss.

Billy smirks when you withdraw your lips from his. He takes your chin in his hand, smoothing his thumb over your jawline as he says,

“I’m yours, okay?”

Your smile widens and warmth flushes over your cheeks.

“Okay.”

[clownpee]

best enemies

[suzukiblu]

Please, cuddling, and TimKon?

. . . I am sorry but also I am NOT sorry for what I have done with this reply, but hey, why don't we all enjoy this one being the only prompt fill from this meme that got a read-more cut??

“Please,” Kon tries, trying not to look–he doesn’t know, weird and needy and like an embarrassment, or whatever. It feels like such a stupid thing to ask for. He knows Tim’s not really a hugger or a touchy-feely guy or whatever and that he likes having his own space and basically always hops out of bed right after sex to go write down all the shit his post-nut clarity made him think of, and the idea of, like, just staying still and actually cuddling or whatever is probably basically literal torture to him, assuming it’s ever even occurred to him at all, just . . . 

Just he’d kind of like to sometimes, maybe? Like–not regularly or whatever, he’s not trying to drive Tim nuts or cut into either his worktime or downtime here, just . . .

Just he’d like to do it sometimes, that’s all. 

Tim’s not the tactile type. Tim isn’t even the eye contact type, unless he’s lying to somebody or at work or just faking it for Robin-mode or whatever. Kon gets that. He’s been, like–careful about that. Not trying to take up too much space or ask for too much attention or mind when Tim doesn’t even look up at him when he– 

He’s been careful about it. 

But he is . . . well. The tactile type. Like . . . kind of, anyway. 

Like–it’s kinda unavoidable, honestly. 

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him in just enough bemusement to make him feel even more self-conscious about bringing this shit up to begin with, and Kon tries to keep his expression casual and noncommittal and–and just normal about this. Because he is totally normal about this. He is so normal about this. He is.

He’s also normal about the fact that when he asked Tim if he could talk to him about something, Tim didn’t even put down his tablet. Didn’t even put it to sleep, or actually even look up from it until . . . 

Kon’s normal about that. About all of this. 

(and he definitely never feels kind of weird or a little bit abandoned because Tim can’t EVER just bring his stupid laptop back to bed or at least work on whatever he’s thinking about IN the bedroom at the untouched desk he's got set up in there or even just, like . . . stick around and hang out on the couch with him, or anything like that. he definitely totally ENTIRELY doesn’t ever just feel like a casual fuckbuddy or an easy hookup or a gala-night accessory or just the most immediately convenient option and not actually–not actually any kind of a–not actually something that– 

he doesn’t. 

definitely.)

“Uh,” Kon says, and backpedals awkwardly, because clearly this conversation is not going the way he’d wanted it to and Tim just looks so surprised by it all, like–like it never even occurred to him or something, that maybe . . . that maybe Kon would want anything like that, or like he literally just hasn’t noticed how hard Kon’s been trying to be normal about it, or . . . 

It doesn’t feel very good, the idea he’s been trying so hard to respect Tim’s space and preferences and comfort levels and Tim hasn’t even noticed that he was doing anything at all. 

Especially because Tim usually notices just about everything. 

Maybe Tim’s just never thinking about it. Maybe he gets out of bed so quick because he’s spent the whole time in it thinking about other shit and just putting up with–just– 

“Kon,” Tim says, his voice going a little tight, and Kon just tries not to wince. He didn’t mention any of the complicated stuff he’s been trying not to feel, he just asked if Tim could–if Tim would– 

He didn’t even mention any of the complicated stuff, so it’s, like–not a great sign that Tim’s looking at him like that right now, like he’s said something really serious or upsetting or . . . 

He really shouldn’t have said anything, yeah. 

“Sorry,” he tries stiffly, glancing away and wrapping his hand around his own wrist and digging his fingers into the inside of it. It’s–tactile. Just . . . something tactile. “I know you don’t–sorry. Uh. Just forget it.” 

“Fuck,” Tim mutters for some reason, and Kon feels like such an idiot for saying anything at all, and a worse one for apparently doing it in a way that’s got Tim making that face at him. That face is Robin’s “my utility belt is empty, comms are fried, and the mission just went to shit” face. 

He really fucked this up. It was fine. Everything was fine, and now he’s wrecked it and Tim’s about to say it’s not even that serious, it’s not like it’s even–not like they’re even–and that Kon’s clearly gotten the wrong idea and they should just–just– 

“How long have you felt this way?” Tim asks very, very carefully, like the question’s something fragile, and Kon thinks from literally the first fucking time you left me alone in bed all night so you could go recalibrate some stupid useless specialty sensor that wasn’t even part of your primary gear, like, a WEEK into us sleeping together and says, “I dunno. It’s not–I told you. Forget it. It’s not a big deal.” 

He’s being weird about this. He’s being an asshole about this, actually, because being prepared for literally every single possible contingency ever is the Bats’ whole thing and he got into this knowing Tim wasn’t the touchy-feely type or all that expressive and emotive about–about his feelings, or whatever, and–and it’s not like he even–not like he– 

(he just wants a fucking HUG he didn't have to FUCK him for every now and then, or for Tim to at least exist in the same space as him for longer than the time it takes for the next email from Oracle to come in or next alert from Batman to go off or next self-assigned project to finish processing or–

but that’s not something Tim does, and Kon knew that going in, so–so it’s his own stupid fault if he feels SMALL sometimes, when . . . when there’s always something else, always another problem to solve or place to be or thing to think about, always . . . always something more important than just . . . staying, just for a little bit, and just BEING with–with him. just him. not the team, or either of their families, or . . .)

He knew all this going in, Kon reminds himself. He knew it. If he were this bad at being with literally anyone else, he’d just–he’d just– 

But something about it being Tim means he just . . . can’t. 

Tim’s jaw tightens, and he finally sets down his stupid tablet. 

Only now, though, Kon thinks bitterly, and digs his fingers a little deeper into the inside of his wrist. 

“Kon,” Tim says again, says too carefully again. Like something’s fragile, again. “I–” 

“I said forget it, for fuck’s sake!” Kon snaps too hotly, and maybe hates himself for both doing it and for the stricken look that doing it puts on Tim’s face, and also maybe cheats a bit by super-speeding straight out the balcony door into the night air and not taking his cell or his communicator with him. Or–definitely does, in fact. Definitely that’s cheating. He knows it is. 

He just really can’t stand to hear Tim tell him how he’s fucked up this time right now, though. He just–he tried so fucking hard not to fuck up this time. 

He really, really tried. 

He should’ve known it wouldn’t work, but . . . but he really did try.

[moeblob]

Am I wrong? (nope)

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Okay challenge mode. You are a therapist and Eridan Ampora from Homestuck has just walked right out of his intro page into your office. How do you fix him?

put him and karkat in a room with a pile of stuff and tell them they can't leave until they've jumped into it and talked about their feelings

[sygneth]

Holmes College Adventures Masterpost Chapter 2: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 AO3

you could make a career out of this

Pros of going to the country: - I can lie in the forest moss for hours - inner peace - inspiration for drawing them in the country Cons of going to the country: - having only my old broken tablet so drawing is painful (didn't stop me though)

[starrysharks]

i want to delete my twitter account so fucking bad

[blueskittlesart]

do you have any thoughts on zelda not staying as a dragon? me personally I like it and am very cool with it mostly because I think zelda should get to be happy forever (and because I'm smart enough to know she changed back because of recall and not some ambiguous power of love lmao) but a lot of people seem to dislike that it made the draconification inconsequential?

i think there's like. some valid concerns surrounding inconsequentiality/"curing" the physical problems characters have as a way of giving them a "happy ending" but I think those concerns don't necessarily apply to totk in the way people seem to be applying them, especially irt zelda's draconification and link's arm.

most of the time when the criticism of this "magic cure" trope is applied to media, it's because the trope is used as a cure-all to erase a character's suffering or trauma and make them "normal" again, and often ignores the character development or themes of the story in favor of giving the character a happy ending. I don't think that applies to totk, though, because the "curing" link and zelda experience is both within the realm of possibility given the worldbuilding present in the game (recall could easily have done it, as you mentioned) AND thematically consistent with the rest of the game. One of if not the most important central themes of totk is the idea of failure and second chances. we see a hyrule that has been given a second chance after link's initial failure with the calamity brought it to the brink of destruction. we see characters who were deeply unhappy and entrenched in the shame of their precalamity mistakes like purah and zelda become active, beloved members of their communities. we see the people of lurelin village take back and rebuild their destroyed home. we watch this kingdom and its people make an unprecedented comeback after a century of struggle and ruin.

Similarly, totk's gameplay is LINK's second chance, his comeback from the initial mistake of losing zelda, of specifically being unable to reach her with his injured hand when they fell. The consequences of that--the master sword's corruption, the loss of his arm, and zelda's draconification, are all supposed to SEEM irreversible, because that's how LINK initially sees them. he believes that he doomed both himself and zelda all because of that SINGLE moment in which he wasn't enough, a viewpoint which is obviously left over from the pressure he experienced to perform to an impossible standard of perfection pre-calamity. The story of totk is about deconstructing that belief and proving it wrong. the mistake he made caused harm, but it's never too late to repair things. he can fix the regional phenomena ganondorf causes and rebuild those communities. he can revitalize the master sword. he can GET ZELDA BACK, with his own arm, uninjured and able to reach her this time. no matter how impossible those things may initially seem, no matter the perceived finality of his mistakes and their consequences, there is always hope. there is always a second chance. no one person's single mistake can doom an entire kingdom for eternity. the fate of hyrule was NEVER resting on link's shoulders alone. he was never their final hope. there was always going to be an after. the whole POINT of the draconification and the loss of link's arm is that they AREN'T final. they ARE inconsequential, because they were born of one mistake and ONE MISTAKE IS NOT THE END ALL.

[saddest-girl-in-the-whole-world]

my headcanon for post canon happy griddlehark is that Gideon would say "One flesh, one end, Harrow!" every time they have the smallest disagreement or she's in trouble like she'll burn their food and when Harrow makes even the smallest comment about it Gideon immediately explodes like "What happened to one flesh one end???? Oh, undying devotion but one burnt cheese pizza and you cast me aside??? 10000 years of tradition, harrow! I died for you, you know?"

[wingsofhcpe]

thinking about how in the manga Hange and the rest of the dead scouts smile at Levi before fading away, meanwhile in the anime Hange looks so pensive and sad instead, gazing at Levi with so much regret in her eyes because she had to leave him alone, because he's the last one now and he has to carry everyone's hearts forward even when they're no longer there with him.

Thinking about how Hange didn't want to leave Levi, how they asked Levi if he thinks their dead comrades are watching them, and Levi did not reply, but then when Hange died he whispers "goodbye, Hange. Watch us."

I am really so not okay over these two, I am absolutely Not normal about levihan and their relationship and how much pain and love there is inside both of them, and how these two -the pain and the love- can coexist so perfectly even after Hange is gone and Levi is the last one of the OG scouts left.

[m0e-ru]

hypothetical music video + baseball

[susartwork]

uh hi can you give some shading tips? pls?

Sure! :DD

I think the easier way to give some tips is by showing my own process.

(I won't explain here the basics of shading, but if you want I linked a tutorial down at the end of this.)

First off, the program I use is Krita (but any program is ok 👍✨) And here's the brushes I use:

I'd say use at least two brushes. A soft one and a harder one.

To show you I'll use this doodle I did of Murder!Sans (by @/ask-dusttale)

First, flat colors.

Then start shading on a new layer and put it in Multiply mode, then change the opacity at your liking. Don't use black for the shadows! Use a dark color. I usually use a purple or a brown.

Now with the same color, go on a new layer (Multiply mode), and add extra shadows where light has trouble reaching. This gives more depth to the drawing. (To make this process easier I use the Select Opaque option, by right clicking on the Base Shading layer, down in the menu, and then paint on the new layer)

Now fill the canvas with the light's color (or do like me and duplicate the Flat Colors layer, and recolor it if you want the light to be only on the subject). I'm using yellow since it makes a nice contrast with the purple. Put it in Pin Light mode and change the opacity at your liking.

Aaaand

You could say finished! We could stop here, but if you want some extras, go under the cut:

-EXTRA-

Now I- I can't explain what "Bouncing Lights" and "Sub-Surface Scattering" are, so... go see on internet :''D Basically slap some red and blue over the shadows layer in Overlay mode and voilà

It'd be more noticeable with less light but trust me, it's good

Now let's talk about ambience. We can create many different scenes just by playing with the light and shadow layers! Change their colors, change the blending mode, play with 'em and see what you get:

Also I suggest studying how color schemes work (I'll link you a video down below). I uhh actually kinda suck at color schemes XD but having at least a basic understanding of them it's useful.

And, here's some tutorials that personally helped me a lot:

Shadows and lights tutorial/tips <- great for learning the basics of shading

Time saving shading solutions

This great rendering tutorial by @/licollisa

Different color schemes

For any questions don't hesitate to ask me (^w^)

[uncanny-tranny]

Two things that are simultaneously true:

1. Gender and sexuality are complex and can be fluid. An identity isn't always fixed and can change with time for many reasons

2. It is not acceptable to force others to change their gender or sexuality and the mantra that they (queer people) can change if they only "try hard" is both cruel and homophobia and/or transphobia

[consult-sherlockholmes]

You're welcome, sweetie. I saw you working (i guess) and I didn't want to bother you (I can't concentrate knowing that you're only wearing a sheet Christ God)

And err... I left my phone number in one of the bags, you know... in case you need m-... in case you need to bring you more groceries, yes.

Get better soon! 💋

At least someone brought me food while John was replacing me eating food with someone else while I was suffering all on my own abandoned. How dare this Steven seduce him and steal him away from me this vulture snake, carrion eater. So this is a rare occurrence, I don't say this often, but thank you. Just take this that my brain is already influenced by it all. And the sheet is a necessity my temperature has been increasing since hours and I won't put my suits through that abuse of disease ridden body fluids. Easier to wash and handle as well, and I started freezing inbetween so I can wrap myself in a blanket interchangeably. I have to try to work as much as I can before I am completely incapacitated, it feels as if it's getting worse every hour.

[meljwrites]

Misbah acknowledges that Lucas went through a traumatic experience but it seems like she's weaponizing that against him and Dillon.

I mean, she's mostly pointing out that that trauma manifested in both self harm and violence - and a lot of things she doesnt even know about - and doesn't want dillon to be put at risk of any of that again. I think she probably feels guilty that she couldn't protect him from that and she's trying to now but it's too late because hayray are stubborn teenage boys who are in love with each other.

[florbelles]

finished hera & started lady macbeth and we have got to start blaming women for shit again for real