#but for now here ya go

[dontbelasagne23]

*yells into the void* “are you guys still there?”

[mochasucculent]

The gang all together 👍

Sketch v final + refs below!

First pic was reffed from My Own Private Idaho, which ended up being a really bad idea because this focal length was ridiculous to try and flatten out and match with the others lol

Second pic was obvi The Pieta by Michelangelo, but shoutout to my partner for suggesting the role reversal cause I was initially gonna draw Viktor in Jayce's arms again, but having it the other way around gave me the idea for the last piece where they're mutually in each other's arms and on equal ground in the composition

Third pic was reffed from The Blossoming Of Love by Miquel Blay! Had to move Jayce's hand to Viktor's shoulder because he was too yolked for his arm to fit between them lmao

[tizeline]

Oh? What's that? Ya'll want the next part of TSAU's story? Well fuck you you're getting this fucking thing instead.

[dirtgrubber]

“They’re… what are they doing? Is that Alastor, holding flowers?”

another banger of a chapter from “Of Saints and Sinners” by the amazing @morningstarwrites

[cloudcastor]

soriku week day 4: sacrifice

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Ik it's a bit early but I can't believe it's been almost one year since this post

Btw yeah its real

[adokle]

Bree and Neo.

[2xchomp]

Have an Empires Shiny Duo.

Very messy sketch but it needed to come out so I could work on other things, so it’ll be a while before another thing comes out! Sorry!

[auspiciouscat]

boo!!

non-eyestrain version below⬇️⬇️⬇️

[hatsbuckets]

Find Your Way Back | Poly141 (Gaz Centric)

Hey, look it's that Poly141 Gaz is the focus fic I promised

I don't know this starts bad. Sorry but I think gets better towards the end. Maybe I'll rewrite later. If you want the better soft stuff skip to the second set of ellipses.

Pairings: Poly141 Short Vers: Gaz gets separated from the team. Has to fight his way back. When he gets back, they dote on him a bit. I subscribe to kissing 'booboos' better. WC: ~1500 Warnings: Canon Typical Violence. Bombing.

The streets of the city were tight, winding paths through centuries-old buildings that had seen war before, had seen peace before. Price had briefed them on the mission: intelligence traced a potential terrorist attack to this sector. The local police had started clearing the area, but it wasn’t fully evacuated yet. The team was searching for a convoy of trucks believed to be carrying explosives or weapons for the attack. If they were lucky, they’d stop the attack before it started.

Gaz moved through the alleyway, rifle up, senses sharp. Civilians were still scattered in pockets, some reluctant to leave, others watching warily from doorways. Soap was covering the east side, Ghost was scanning rooftops, and Price was bringing up the rear, watching their six. The air smelled of dust and cordite, a sign that something had already gone sideways before they got here.

“Movement ahead,” Gaz murmured into comms, pressing himself against the crumbling stone wall. A second later, Soap's voice crackled in his ear.

“Copy. See if you can get eyes before we move in.”

Gaz edged forward, peeking around the corner. A convoy—three trucks, their cargo hidden under heavy tarps, parked in a tight formation. His gut twisted. They weren’t just moving supplies—these trucks were rigged to blow. His gut twisted.

“Multiple hostiles. Trucks are rigged. This is the attack.”

“Bloody hell,” Soap muttered. “We moving in?”

Before Price could give the order, the world exploded.

The shockwave sent Gaz hurtling backward. His ears rang, his vision blurred with dust and debris. A second explosion followed, then a third. The alleyway cracked and buckled, stone and metal crashing down around them.

“Gaz!?” Soap’s voice was sharp in his earpiece, but it was laced with static.

Gaz coughed, pushing himself up. His side ached, but he was alive. He reached for his comms, adjusting the piece in his ear. “Still breathing.”

“You’re cut off.” That was Ghost, and he sounded pissed. “Building collapsed between us. You alright?”

Gaz pushed himself upright, scanning his surroundings. He was on the wrong side of the rubble, locked in the city’s underbelly. And worse? There were voices. Close.

“In one piece,” he muttered. He checked his rifle. “But I’ve got company.”

Price’s voice cut through the static. “Stay put. We’ll get to you.”

Gaz peeked around the wreckage. Too many hostiles between him and them. He exhaled sharply. No way was he sitting still.

“Negative, Captain. Too many between us, too many coming.” He tightened his grip on his rifle. “I’ll fight my way back. You boys handle the others.”

“Gaz—” Price’s warning was cut off as static took over.

Gaz set his jaw and moved, disappearing into the smoke. He moved fast through the crumbling alleyways, his steps practiced and quiet even over broken concrete. The city around him was chaos. Screams in the distance, sporadic gunfire, and the low rumble of another explosion from somewhere blocks away. He kept his head down, weaving through the debris as he adjusted his grip on the rifle.

He had to get back.

“Gaz, report.” That was Price—sharp, low, but tight with worry.

“I’m moving. Got eyes on at least two cells converging near the west quarter,” Gaz responded, breath steady despite the adrenaline surging in his veins.

“Are you clear to engage?”

Gaz ducked into a side path, slipping behind a stack of broken crates. “Negative. Not yet. Trying to bypass.”

Static popped in his ear, and then Soap’s voice filtered in. “You better not be bleeding out in some alley, mate.”

Gaz huffed, lips twitching. “You’d cry if I was.”

“Damn right I would.”

He reached a split in the path. One way blocked by rubble, the other crawling with patrols. He checked his mag, reloaded quietly, and turned toward the enemy. No other option.

The first one dropped fast—silent knife to the throat. The second, a clean suppressed shot. Gaz moved like a ghost, fluid and controlled, his pace never faltering.

“Contact,” he murmured. “Five down. Moving north.”

Ghost’s voice cut in, rough and low. “We’ve got eyes on the convoy. They’re mobilizing.”

“How many?”

“Too many.”

Gaz’s pulse kicked harder. “I’ll intercept. Cut them off if I can.”

Price came through again. “Kyle, that’s not your job. Get to us.”

“I’m closest. I’ve got the shot.”

There was silence, then a clipped sigh. “Make it fast. We're clearing this side.”

Gaz broke into a sprint, ducking through smoke and shadow, every sense alive. His body ached, but he pushed through it. He was getting back to them.

He just had to survive long enough to do it.

...

The sound of boots pounding pavement was the only warning before Gaz burst from the alley, panting and dust-covered, his rifle still steady in his hands. His vest was streaked with grime and blood—some his, most not. The instant he appeared, Soap was moving.

“Holy fuck—Gaz!”

Soap collided with him in a hard embrace, half a shove and half a hug, his breath tight. “Jesus, you absolute bastard. Thought you were dead.”

Gaz grunted with the impact but didn’t resist. “I told you I’d make it.”

Ghost was only a second behind, his hand locking onto Gaz’s shoulder with bruising force. He didn’t speak, just stared for a long moment, checking every inch with his eyes before stepping back.

“You’re late,” Ghost muttered.

“Traffic was murder.”

Price approached last, slower, his expression unreadable. He stopped just in front of Gaz and gave him a once-over.

“That was reckless, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You get the convoy?”

Gaz nodded. “Two trucks down. Third one’s immobile. Cleared the path to you on the way.”

Price exhaled—quiet, but deep. “Good work.” Then softer, “Glad you’re in one piece.”

The rest was a blur. The local police moved in to sweep the area and clean up the remnants of the cell. The trucks were seized, and the remaining explosives disarmed. The terrorists who hadn’t fled were in custody. It was over. Messy, but over.

The team stayed close. Soap carried Gaz’s gear without asking. Ghost didn’t drift more than a step away. Price kept glancing over his shoulder like he couldn’t quite believe Gaz was still walking.

By the time they reached their transport vehicle, Gaz’s legs were aching, and the adrenaline was gone. He was crashing from it, and he knew it. They knew it too.

“Back,” Price said, gesturing at the vehicle.

Soap climbed in first. Ghost slid in after him, and then Gaz was nudged between them.

“I can sit up front—”

“Nope.” Soap pulled him in. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Ghost didn’t say anything, just shifted so that Gaz’s shoulder was firmly against his. Their thighs pressed together. Soap slung an arm behind him.

Gaz exhaled, slumping between them.

Price started the engine. "Stil with us, Sergeant?"

“I'm fine, seriously, all good.” Gaz muttered.

Soap smirked. "Shut up, Kyle.”

Ghost’s voice was low, quiet. “Next time, don’t make us wait.”

Gaz closed his eyes, letting himself lean just a little more into them. "Mhm, I'll try to remember that."

...

Base was quiet. The debrief was done, the reports filed, and the worst of the dirt scrubbed off. Night had settled in, heavy and still.

Gaz stood in front of the mirror in the room he shared with Soap, fingers ghosting over the bruises along his ribs. The mottled skin was turning a deeper shade now, black and blue blooming beneath his shirt as he held it up to inspect the damage. He hissed through his teeth.

“Should’ve gone to medical.”

Gaz didn’t flinch at the voice. He looked up, catching Price’s reflection in the mirror across the room.

John had changed—t-shirt, joggers, sleeves pushed up. He looked like a man at ease, but the furrow in his brow gave him away.

“'M fine,” Gaz said softly.

Price stepped into the room, the door shutting quietly behind him. He walked over slowly and came to a stop just behind Kyle, their reflections side by side in the mirror.

Without a word, Price reached around him, fingers brushing over the edge of the bruise just under Gaz's ribs. His touch was gentle.

“You’re lucky,” Price murmured. “Could’ve been worse.”

Gaz's breath hitched, the warmth in Price’s voice sending a warm little rush through his lungs. He leaned back a little, resting lightly against him. Price’s hand slid across his side, anchoring there.

The door creaked again.

Soap walked in with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck, still talking over his shoulder.

“—told you, Ghost, you keep stealing my shampoo—”

He stopped in the doorway, blinking at the sight.

Ghost followed a beat behind, pausing too, though his expression was unreadable behind his mask.

Soap’s smile came slow and warm. “Caught you getting spoiled without us?”

Kyle chuckled, breath shallow, and Price didn’t move away. Didn’t need to.

Soap stepped closer, standing in front of him. “Let’s have a look then.”

He crouched, easing down to one knee, eyes on the bruises before he leaned in and pressed a kiss just beside one. “Could've died comin' back to us. Reckless.”

Kyle hummed, closing his eyes for a second. “You love it.”

Soap grinned. “Mmm. Suppose I do.”

Ghost lingered nearby, sinking down onto the mattress behind them all. Watching. Something soft in the way he relaxed.

For a moment, no one moved. It was all warm. Familiar.

Price’s hand rested on Kyle’s waist. Soap’s fingers brushed his knee.

"Gotta find your way back to us, aye?" Soap eventually whispered, pressing his face into Gaz's thigh.

Gaz brushed his hand through Soap's damp hair. "Aye, Tav. Always."

[s1xseasonsandamov1e]

[wishfulsketching]

I drew more of my new-ish old-ish OC's because I can

The Couples Edition

[jadewritesficshere]

Thinking about Eddie Munson who was complaining to the rest of the band about his shoulders and neck hurting post show. One of them convinces him to go for a massage.

Eddie shows up day of and is told to strip to level of comfort and get under the sheets laying on his back, his masseuse will knock before coming in. Eddie has not an ounce of care or shame, strips completely naked. Scars and tattoos on full display. He climbs between the sheets and waits. After knocking and hearing a "come in", his masseuse enters and-

The most handsome man he's ever seen walks in. A bit of stubble on his defined jaw, soft pale lips Eddie wants to kiss, big brown eyes Eddie wants to get lost in, slutty little waist and an ass Eddie could-

He introduces himself as Steve. Verifies where Eddie had said his tension was on the form he hastily filled out. Then it starts.

And maybe, maybe, Eddie is a bit touch starved. He could have anyone he wants, but they don't want him just his fame. Pushes them all away. Only gets close to his band, but they all are busy and have their own people outside of work.

And Steve is just touching him. Rubbing smooth circles into his temple, down his cheekbones towards his jaw. Pressing on parts of Eddie's face he didn't even realize were tense. It's relaxing.

And Eddie regrets not leaving at least his boxers on to help hide that he's becoming hard. Kind of embarrassing, which makes his dick harder- which, that's a lot to unpack right now-

"Hey, relax man," Steve says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eddie can see Steve's eyes dart towards the obvious situation," It's natural. Happens to the best of us." "Does it happen to you?" Eddie blurts out. Eddie wants to shove his face in one of these soft plush pillows and scream, but Steve just snorts a laugh and shakes his head at him. Doesn't even respond as he continues the massage.

Eddie tries to hold back his groans as Steve turns his head to the side and rubs his neck into his shoulders. He can feel the tension leave his body slowly. Feel the knots in his muscles release.

Eddie can't, however, hold back the noise he makes when Steve grabs a hold of his hair and tugs it. Eddie's eyes pop open and he stares into Steve's face, who has started blushing. Steve just clears his throat and let's Eddie's hair go before continuing the massage.

[sinsydia]

Alright I'm absolutely in love with your art haha, and I love your drawings of Sebastian so so much!! I've got to ask you though, your art with Sam in it made me wonder if you've got any other drawings of him? I adore him and I'd love to see more of how he'd look in your style!! I've looked over your profile but I haven't found much, other than the art of him with Abigail and Seb when Seb is getting a tattoo haha. Which is why I'm asking, because it's 100% like me to miss something. You have such a unique take on each character I've seen you draw from Stardew, especially with how like. Detailed your art is for these pixel characters lol. and it kinda makes me wonder how you interpret him/details you headcanon and stuff if you've got any haha. I hope you are doing well!! Feel free to ignore this ask if it's bothersome!!!! No pressure at all to respond, I'm just curious is all :D

I've been wanting to answer this and YES i have a tonnnn of sketches but mostly fleshing out how I want him to look because I want to draw the ASS trio more but here are a few of my latest Sam sketches :3

my only HCs is sam can do a very mean tre flip on his skateboard and do some impressive joja cola belches that sebastian finds extremely entertaining lmaoo

Enjoy these skateboard gifs inspired by sam

Hes a good boi :3 thanks for your ask anon! And thanks for the lovely compliments to my art i trulyyyyy appreciate it 🖤🖤🖤

[miscellaneoustofu]

Basketball bad boys, anyone?

Yeah, so these are my Kirisaki Daiichi redesigns. The uncrowned kings and their respective squads have all the fun potential and I intend to use it.

Kirisaki Daiichi and Hanamiya being the most slept on team for character design of them all because you can’t make a canonical “bad boy” team and not have them be emo, goth, and punk for the funsies. For the visual “pen egg chest qua” (je ne sais quoi). For the fun, stereotypical edgelord flair we all deserve to indulge in every now and then.

Makoto’s og design simply didn’t scream spider enough for me and I was tired of so many key characters having this longish, same shade of black hair (him, Himuro, Mibuchi, etc). Like, I know giving the black and brown a colored tint can subtract from the uniqueness of the GOM, but not even a little? So, yeah, fuck allat, I’m using desaturated colors every now and then.

I also loved drawing Makoto in some casual clothes and much needed drip. Villains are required to serve most. I wanted to draw the rest of them in some casual outfits because trust Kojiro and honestly all of them dress immaculately but life and time restraints. Maybe later.

Story wise, each player and Makoto maybe have their own reasons for turning to hurting others through basketball and I hope you catch some of the story threads I threw in. Whether or not they deserve or have the capacity to change is entirely up to you all with Makoto having the most potential to be entirely complex or cartoonishly evil (I like both). I’m a sucker for a bit of character complexity and things that leave room for interpretation.

Sometimes knb can be very black and white in its themes…

Well, let me know what you all think! Thank you, for everyone’s kind words and support. See ya!

[jackienova]

Fairy Lights Series

Inspired by songs from The Amazing Devil ---------- Shop Links: ✦ Redbubble for prints, stickers, notebooks, buttons, t-shirts, tote bags, blankets, pillows, and more! ✦ Ko-fi for digital downloads, or if you'd like to give a little monetary support.