#i need more Diablo art

[iny-jays]

[wlwkorrra]

by diablo cody💋🩸

[starfleetwitch]

Me: *Crying*

Therapist: It’s ok, buff Bernie doesn't exist. She can't hurt you.

Me: *Cries harder*

Follow on from this post

[rangerbarbz]

Serving Up Romance pt. 3

Author's Note: guys this semester has been raw dogging me tbh. curse my damn zoology classes. anyways love being a woman in stem and I love Stan Pines. I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO COME OUT IVE BEEN SO BUSY. ALSO I AM SO HONORED AND THANKFUL FOR ALL THE KIND RESPONSES YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME <3 (If there's typos my bad im running on like 2% capacity and horny)

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this eager to get home. The car ride back to your house was mainly spent in comfortable silence between you and Stan. That was alright, though. His hand was on your knee drawing lazy circles with his thumb while you played with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was pure bliss. 

The radio then started to play a love song that you couldn’t remember the name of anymore. You smiled and began to sing along quietly, tapping to the beat of the song on Stan’s skin. You heard him chuckle. 

“Sorry, I’m doing a drum solo on your neck,” you joked, increasing the speed of your tapping. He grinned, still looking at the road. 

“S’alright.” He then looked over at you fondly. “I like your singing, by the way. Ya got a voice that matches your face” You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“I don’t know about that, but thank you,” you replied. 

You soon saw the familiar opening of your driveway. Stan parked his Diablo behind your car. He then unbuckled his seatbelt at the speed of light and flung open his door. He jogged to the passenger side to open the door for you. He stood with his back straight like he was your bodyguard.

You giggled, stepping out of the car. “You’re real chivalrous, Pines,” you cooed, patting his cheek. 

He winked at you. “I did my homework.” 

“Well,” you stood on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear, “let’s see how you do on the final exam.” You swore you could feel the heat from his blush radiating off him. 

“Yes, well, I hope, I mean- I will pass,” he stammered as you took hold of his hand. You guided him up your front porch stairs to unlock the door. Once you were inside, you both began to kick your shoes off. “Nice digs you got here, doll. I especially like this thing.” He had walked over to your dining table while you were still unstrapping your sandals to pick up a clay structure you had found at an antique store. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was colorful and was a perfect centerpiece. 

You figured he was being sarcastic so you responded, “Aw, leave it alone!”

He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “What? I’m being serious. I like art. There’s a reason I’m banned at museums.” You laughed and threw your shoe on the floor. You crossed over to him as he continued to examine it to wrap yourself around his midsection. He hummed and set the piece down to caress your forearms. 

You kissed his back through the fabric of his button-up. “You wanna go to my room?” you asked softly. He turned around and swiftly picked you up, your legs hooking around his waist. Your eyes were as wide as saucers, face beginning to flush. His hands were digging into your thighs to support you; they felt rough against your soft flesh. 

“Where to, sweetheart?” he mumbled, planting kisses on your jawline. 

“L-last door on the right,” you squeaked. He started to walk carefully with you in his arms to your room before laying you down on your bed. His cheeks were tinged a light pink as his lips met yours once again. He kissed you firmly, his forearms bracing himself on either side of your head. You snaked your arms around his torso to pull him closer to you while your tongue slipped past his lips. He tasted like the cheap cigars he got from the Dusk-2-Dawn in town, but you needed to taste more of him. 

Your hands moved to his dark hair, entangling it in your fingers. You groaned as the kiss became more sloppy. His right hand dragged down the side of you, outlining your waist and hip and eventually stopping to grip the outside of your thigh. Stan then broke the kiss to take a look at you. Your makeup had been smudged and your hair was spilling out behind your head. You were a vision. 

“Fuck,” Stan groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. His finger slipped underneath the strap of your dress. “Can I take this off? Please?” His voice was dripping with lust as he kissed you gently on your cheek. Oh, shit was this really happening? You talked big game outside, but now that it got down to it, you were getting a little nervous. 

“Uh, yes. Let me get up real quick.” He rolled off of you to let you stand up, your back facing towards him. You began to unzip your dress, but it got stuck at the top of the zipper. 

“Oh, hold on, sweetheart. I got you.” Stan stood up to maneuver the slider so that it went down easier. You bit your lip to suppress the grin forming over something so domestic. “There we go,” he said, unzipping your dress the rest of the way. This was still Stan. You had nothing to be worried about. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning to face him. His eyebrows lifted as you let the dress fall from your shoulders and crumple on the shoulder. Both of you were blushing from the vulnerability of the situation. You stood before him in a lacy bra push-up bra and matching light pink panties. 

He swallowed hard. “I, wow,” he ran his hands through his hair and exhaled, “you’re…beautiful.” You gave him a wide smile. 

“Your turn now, handsome.” You kissed him and began to unbutton his shirt one by one while his hands slid down your back. His hands began to wander over your hips, waist, and down to your butt where he squeezed roughly. He swallowed the squeak you made by colliding his lips with yours. His shirt fell to the floor showing off a broad, hairy chest. You ran your fingers through the coarse hair before grasping onto his burly shoulders for balance. His teeth and tongue fought with yours while he sat on the edge of the bed, bringing you into his lap. 

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” Stan whispered, fumbling with the hook of your bra. You felt some light pressure as it came undone. He tossed it to the floor with the growing pile of clothes. His eyes then became transfixed on your breasts. You saw him swallow and his face turned an even deeper shade of red. 

“Are they okay?” you asked self-consciously. 

His eyes met yours immediately. “Okay?” He glanced back down at your breasts and the back at you. “Babe, they’re…” he shook his head, “they’re fucking smokin’.” Your laughter from his blunt compliment was cut off by a sharp inhale. His lips had latched on to your right nipple while he fondled the other breast vigorously. Your fingers weaved into his hair, nails scraping at his scalp, and his tongue swirling over your areola. 

“Stan…” you breathed, grinding down on the bulge in his blue jeans. He had started to repeat his same ministrations on your other nipple, giving it a gentle bite. You yelped; he looked up at you with that shit-eating grin that said Ha, I made you make that sound. He then pulled you to him as he laid his back against the comforter of your bed. 

“You mind if I take these off, doll?” Stan asked, tugging at the waistband of your panties. You grinned. 

“I don’t mind,” you replied. “What are you gonna do when they’re off?” 

Stan rolled his eyes playfully. “Not tellin’.” He carefully slid his panties over the globes of your ass. “That’ll ruin the surprise.” He suddenly flipped you over so that your positions were switched. He smirked at the surprised expression on your face. “Learned that from boxing,” he joked, now watching as he removed your panties the rest of the way. He licked his lips; the lacy material grazing your calf. He eventually set them at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your molten core. 

“Stan?” you asked. His eyes darted to meet yours. His pupils were insanely dilated…Hungry even. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just… Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Would you mind if I…” his voice trailed off. He leaned down to peck at your kneecap. Oh.

“Oh, you mean, like oral?” you stammered. 

“I mean like eating you out,” Stan clarified. So you were right. 

“Y-you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind, but don’t you want me to take care of you?” To be honest, you weren’t used to guys putting you first. 

Stan frowned. “Toots, I have been thinking about your legs around my head all night. This is for me as much as it is for you.” You felt every part of your body heat up. 

“Oh, okay then. Yes, I think that would be very enjoyable,” you replied nervously, unsure of how to respond. Stan laughed before placing his hands at your thighs to gently part your legs further. 

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he murmured, head moving down to leave open-mouthed kisses up your leg. His hands were splayed on the outside of your thighs; his mouth was slowly inching to where you needed him most. Your breath shuddered, clutching the sheets to brace yourself for his touch. 

“So pretty,” Stan groaned, pressing his lips against your labia. You gasped at the contact, making him chuckle. “So wet for me, too.” His big hands moved to your hips while the tip of his tongue teased your slit. He then pulled you closer to his mouth to give your swollen clit the attention it needed so badly. He swirled his tongue around the bud carefully, the pads of his fingers sinking into your hips. 

“Oh, God,” you cried out. You quickly covered your mouth with the palms of both your hands out of embarrassment. 

“Uh, uh,” Stan chastised. He lifted his head to gently take your wrists and uncover your face. “I want to hear everything.” He then positioned your hands to the back of his head. “And don’t be afraid to take what you want, sweetheart.” Stan delved back into your cunt, not being as tender as he was before. He was fucking you with his tongue, tasting every bit of you that he could.

You gripped his hair and squeezed your thighs around his head. “Stan! Please,” you exclaimed, “don’t stop.” You were now grinding your clit against his strong nose, hips swiveling to their own accord. Stan sighed dreamily, using the flat of his tongue to lick a stripe up your pussy. You accidentally tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck causing him to let out what can only be described as a guttural whimper. That was the cause of your undoing. The build-up developing in your abdomen reached its peak by gushing onto Stan’s mouth and sending shockwaves through your body. 

When you came down from your high, Stan was laying there wide-eyed in awe of what he had just witnessed. “That…” he breathed, “was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He laid his head on your stomach and gave it a quick peck. “Ya know, if you’re up to it, I got a rubber in my-”

“Yes,” you interjected. “I need to feel you in me right now.” 

“Oh, alright. Hold on let me just,” he fumbled over his words, reaching into his pocket to reveal a worn leather wallet. He pulled out a square golden wrapper and ripped it open with his teeth. You crawled over to him to unbuckle his belt, kneeling at the end of the bed.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this,” you confessed, unzipping his pants and pulling them down. 

“Oh, fuck,” Stan groaned as you exposed his throbbing cock form his boxers. It was painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. You wrapped your lips around it, sucking it slightly before dragging your tongue down his shaft. He threw his head back as you used your fingers to fondle his balls gently and take him further into your mouth. His fingers wove into the hair above your ear, cradling your head. You gazed up at him to see his face flushed and eyelids hooded. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not gonna last much longer like this, and I really want to feel ya,” Stan apologized. You nodded and removed your mouth from his cock so he could slide the condom on. You laid down on the bed and let him hover over you, lining himself up with your entrance. This was really happening.

“Okay, I’m about to put it in. Just, let me know if I hurt ya, okay? Let me know what feels good too,” Stan instructed lovingly. He caged your head in with his forearms and gave you a sweet kiss. You then felt pressure in your lower half of Stan entering you. You and Stan gasped in unison at the feeling. 

“Stan,” you breathed. “You feel…so good.” He started to move his hips back and forth, eyes studying your face and how it scrunched up in pleasure. 

“You do too, Y/N. Oh, God.” His pace began to pick up. He looked from side to side at your arms in search of something to anchor him. He interlocked your hands in his and put his head in the crook of your neck, grunting into your skin. It was so much. It was so sensual. He made you feel so beautiful. That familiar feeling was approaching as his hips slammed into yours. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and starting to shake. 

“I’m almost there, Stan.”

Stan’s eyes met yours, his hair a mess and sweat starting to bead at his temples. “Come on, baby, let me feel it. Give it to me,” he begged. Once again, his gruff voice was the cause of your intense orgasm. You screamed his name while he chased his own. His thrusts were no longer uniform but sloppy. 

You felt his body tense up and relax as he came. He pressed his forehead into the valley of your breasts and just breathed. You played with his hair absentmindedly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasms. 

He eventually pulled himself from you, making you feel empty. He went to the bathroom to toss the used condom and came back to hold you flush to his chest. He kissed along the shell of your ear and held you by your waist. 

“Breakfast is on me in the morning,” Stan whispered. “I’ll make you my special: Stancakes.” 

You burst into a fit of giggles as you shifted your body to face him. He was giving you a dopey smile. You planted a kiss on his nose. “Can’t wait.”

People who wanted to be tagged (i love y’all): @lucas1253 @vitality-falls @daniel-meyer-03 @marvelous-maniac @daisysinadarkmedow @lordbelkamort @mayhaps-nerd @ziragus

[nicecarito]

Hola Carito!! I don't think you remember me much

I was one of your mutuals back in the old cuphead days!

So glad to see you making very pretty art and doing a comic with your stories!!

My question for you is. How do you start making comics, was it hard for you to figure out the stories and the way to draw them?

Cómo en los diablos puedes formar los dibujos para que se vean bien y no todo compacto juntos y que se quede no viendo chafa?

Yo me preocupo de que cuando yo quería ser mi cómica, yo no quiero que yo vaya a poder dar más páginas y tener arte limpio y bonito pará que sea de interés .

OF COURSE I DO REMEMBER YOU <3 <3

I never forget the good faces <3 Thank youu <3 <3 I'm doing my best, dealing with adulthood but still doing what I like TT0TT.

For your first question in english.

mmmmh I usually start with one scenario, like the -root- of everything, the climax... like for example

it's easier to start a story is you have already an idea of how the climax you want it to be.

With your root settled, then you need figure out how your character end in that situation, and you make a rain of ideas.

Each idea has a reason why the character got in that situation. It comes to you to choose the one who get more your attention, and keep making these kind of questions to thread your ideas and get a story!

That's what I normally do!

Y para tu pregunta en español.

Creo que yo me preocupo mucho de los escenarios. Cada personaje es protagonista de su propio escenario o panel respecto a los comics.

Trato enfocarme solamente en el personaje que esta hablando en ese momento y no me preocupo mucho en dibujar escenarios muy difíciles alrededor. Es un ejemplo de algunos mangas shojo. Cuando los personajes hablan, todo alrededor de ellos desaparece , siendo solo ellos quienes hablan y muestran sus sentimiento, creo que si quieres adentrarte en los sentimientos d tu personaje, simplificar su entorno hace todo más fácil!

[ultrainfinitepit]

Saw your recent post about questions and thought I’d ask; Why angels? Specifically how did you find yourself peering into the biblically accurate/inspired angel content and then making it yourself? Was it a certain show or game? Cool art?

Also! If you’re up to answering a second question- is there any type of angel (or angelic esk creature) found in another religion or work (comic, show ect) that you’d like to draw more of/attempt drawing?

Here’s my previous answer with pictures, as well as a post on why I like drawing them, but I’ll summarize here!

I’ve always been interested in cool creatures, but the eldritch angels specifically started after I played Diablo III and watched Evangelion. Those things opened my eyes to how angels could look different from “guy with wings.” Around the same time I also started seeing a lot of fanart and videos for Bloodborne, and those designs inspired me too. And I just happened to see art by other angel artists at the time, so it all combined into the perfect storm of inspiration. I also have a lot of angel OCs that are my muses.

I've been meaning to draw my take on Death and the Wood Sprite from Del Toro's Pinocchio for a while now! I love their designs. Just need a spare minute between pin designing and Art Fight and everything else. I've also seen people do character redesigns for popular shows/media and I think it would be fun to try that myself one day.

[heyyypuddin]

Withering Petal (Armando X OC) Bad Boys chapter 6

Chapter 6 

The morning came all too quick for Amora as she rolled out of bed after getting absolutely no sleep due to the events from last night, between debating if she should call the cops and her nightmares. 

Coming out of a long 30-minute steaming hot shower, she did her usual beauty routine, needing some normalcy. After seeing what her neck looked like, she put on her black satin jumpsuit that had a halter top scarf and gently wrapped it around her neck. Thankfully, the bruise wasn’t too bad, but it was kind of sensitive.

Once she was done getting dressed, she put on the last bit of her make-up and jewelry, and she ran downstairs to start prepping her breakfast but was quickly met with a shirtless, mummified Armando going through her fridge.

Mouth agape at the scene in front of her, she quickly found some words to spew at the man: “What the hell are you doing in my fridge, and how'd you get out of the room!?” 

Armando stepped out of the fridge, holding sandwich ingredients and placing them on the counter next to him before shrugging nonchalantly and fixing his food.

“I'm hungry, so I came to the kitchen... to eat,” was the deep response. Goodness, his voice was like coffee to her—smooth and mouthwatering to hear. 

She looked to the guest room door and saw the stopper she had was all bent and broken. She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and calmed herself.

"Armando, we both agreed that you would stay in the room until I took you out.” 

“Thats right, we did,” he hummed in agreement with her.

She stared at him, completely stumped by what to do in this situation with this man—this criminal—who is always escaping everything she traps him in. She couldn't even think of anything to say; she was never the quickest with wit. Instead, she focused her thoughts on her errands that she needed to run and what she was going to do with the man. 

Said man was watching Amora with his side eye while he was eating his sandwich. He couldn't figure out much about her. Besides her obvious beauty, he could see that she was quiet and reserved, maybe even more so than he was. Given how her house was the only one nearby for miles or how she didn't even have pictures around the house of friends, family, or even herself, he could tell she was a lonely woman. 

The only other things he could grasp were that she cared for her dog, her self- vanity by how she's always looking in the mirror trying to fix her appearance, and her art. All the paintings and trinkets he's seen in the house when he was snooping have the same style and feel, and they all have the same tiny signature: ‘ The letter A in a heart shape is connected to the cursive letter J. 

She was like an enigma to him, and even more so since she exposed her connection to Victor “El Segador’. How could a woman like her be involved with such a twisted man? He has no idea. His family had their own dealings with the man, and they've always tried to keep transactions with him very small. Even his own mother hated the man; she always said

”Está sin honor, sin respeto, ni siquiera el diablo camina con él." (He’s without honor, without respect; not even the devil walks with him.) 

He carefully watched Amora as she picked up her cell but relaxed when he realized she was on the phone with the vet, seeing about making an appointment for the stupid dog. He made sure to check on the wound that the little shit gave him this morning to make sure he was good. 

“Are you sure he will be, okay? Will he need medication? .........yes, he can walk he's just limping......I understand, but if you don't mind swinging by the office just to make sure he's good, I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Mrs. Swanson. Okay, bye, see you soon.” 

He continued staring at her, unashamed, not looking away when she met his eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“Can you go find a shirt to put on, please? I need to go out, and you're not staying here alone. Plus, we need to get you some clothes and whatever else you need,” she told him, trying not to get flustered over how it felt just a little bit intimate, with her having a half-naked man in her kitchen, talking about running errands. 

Armando felt a small smirk breakout on his face at the flustered woman, and part of him couldn't help but tease.

“Don't lie and tell me you're not enjoying the view, mi amor.” 

Her face tightened at hearing him call her ‘Mi amor’, feeling his smirk deepen a bit more at getting under her skin.

“My name is Amora, and I don't like staring at men who like to put their hands on women.” 

His smirk faltered a little at the accusation. He stepped away from the counter, prowling up to Amora, seeing the worry cross her face but standing her ground as he got closer to her.

“Oh mi amor, see, you got it all wrong... The only time I put my hands on a woman,” he breathed out, bringing his face down closer to her, leaving only an inch between them, his voice getting deeper and more suggestive. 

"Is when she's on her knees, begging for it” 

A quiet gasp released from Amora’s lips, brushing over Armando’s. Her eyes were snapping wide, and her face was getting extremely hot as the words he spoke were bouncing around her brain, hearing every single word he said in that sentence. 

Her heart started beating so loudly that she was sure he could hear it, and she knew she should say something back or even do something, but she was truly left speechless and confused. 

Armandos eyes were gleaming with smugness at her lack of words.

“¿Qué pasa amor? ¿El gato te comió la lengua?” (What's the matter, love? (Cat got your tongue?)

Amora snapped out of her daze and pushed him back, face gleaming with anger and something else.

“You know, you got a problem with personal space” she lamely hissed at him and turned around, calling for bowser so that they could go, Armando stood there gazing at hips saunter bringing his eyes to her toned bare back, his eyes going lower to her voluptuous ass.

“Stop standing there and hurry up; it’ll take us an hour to get there,” she yelled at him without turning around. 

He let out a short chuckle and responded back, heading back to the room.

“Whatever you say, mi amor.”

He heard her let out a small growl, hearing her turn around to retort, but he got to the room door and looked at her, sending a wink, shutting the door before she could say anything back.

Amora's face tightened into a snarl,hands balling into a fist, at the man getting the last word. He’s going to drive her crazy.

She heard Bowser's collar jingle, and her head snapped to where it was coming from, and she saw him limping from the living room, her mind coming off from what just happened.

Her heart warmed and her face softened upon seeing her baby, and she went to pick him up to go take him to the car. But not before grabbing some of his treats since car rides weren’t his favorite. 

“It’s going to be okay, baby, you got this,” she wooed at him before placing him back down to put on her favorite black-pointed toe heels and grabbing her car keys. 

Picking up Bowser again, she made her way to the back of the house, passing by her home gym and to the garage, opening it up, letting the sunlight fill in the room, and on her second baby, her blacked-out AMG GT Mercedes. 

She unlocked the door and carefully manured Bowser into the small of the back seat and gave him a treat to get him comfortable, and she turned in the car to have the AC start to battle off the Florida heat. 

“Nice car” came from directly behind her, causing her to snap up and turn. She came eye to eye with Armando, who was wearing a white plain t-shirt that was also tight on him with the dirty boots he showed up to the house in. 

Upon realizing he would have to get in her car with those dirty shoes, she passed him shoe booties to cover his feet. Confused, he grabbed the booties and looked at her weirdly.

“You’re not going to get in my car with those on,” she said, giving his shoes a pointed look before crossing her arm under her chest bringing Armando’s attention down to her breast seeing the thin satin jumpsuit hiding her hardening nipples. 

Catching his eyes, she cleared her throat and brought her arms up higher trying to cover her chest. He peered back at her face and smirked, walking over to the passenger side, leaving Amora standing there, her heart slightly racing and her stomach tighenting.

She shook her head, wondering what her problem was. Not understanding the way he makes her feel. Amora, get it together, girl. We were just fighting not even 24 hours ago,” she reminded herself. 

Brushing off the tension she was feeling, she got in the car and headed to town, hoping for a smooth ride.

~~~~~40 minutes later ~~~~

 

It definitely was not a peaceful ride. Bowser kept growling at Armando and trying to snip at him whenever he could. 

“¡Maldición! Control your damn dog!” (Damn it!)

Like now. Amora tightened her hands on the wheel out of annoyance at having to deal with these two. 

""Well, maybe if you hadn’t hurt him, you wouldn’t be in this position now, would you? BOWSER SUWARU!” (Sit!)

She scolded the two. Bowser whined before sitting back down in his seat, and she saw Armando snap his head at her before relaxing back in his seat. 

“Why do you teach him Japanese commands?” came the question from the man next to her. She gave him a quizzical side eye before answering him. 

“In case I’m ever attacked and he’s helping, they can’t try to command him. Most people don’t know Japanese, plus it’s his suit name.” She finished out. 

“His name?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Yeah, he’s named after Bowser, from Mario, which was created in Japan.” 

Armando gave a quiet hmm after getting his answer but continued listening as Amora kept talking. 

“My father loved Nintendo; he and my mom visited Japan often. When I was younger, he’d always bring me a gift, and I always loved when he brought Bowser teddy bears, outfits, and all the merchandise. 

Armando gazed at the woman before him who was opening up. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to stop her, plus he was actually quite curious about her. 

“Where are your parents now?” He asked, wondering why he hadn’t seen any photos of them or even a phone call. 

“ Dead” 

Oh. Silence hung over them. He glanced at her, seeing her knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel.

““I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied slowly and genuinely. He too knows how it feels to lose parents. The pain of losing his mom was still with them, especially with how it went down, never forgetting her face as she shot him and then seeing her go down by that cop. A pain struck through his heart at the memory.

““Thank you, they died when I was 10... well, actually, they were killed….by Victor.” 

That brought him out of his painful memories, and his head snapped to Amora. 

““What?” He frowned, seeing her eyes narrow and well up at the information she just dropped. She looked at him and quickly looked back, sniffing.

“Victor Ortiz murdered my parents; they were DEA agents working on a case to bring him down. They were actually close to busting him when James McGrath ratted them out. We gave out our information, and Victor and his gang came and invaded our home one night, killing my parents.”

They pulled up to the pet clinic, and Amora just sat in the seat, shoulders tense, looking straight ahead, ignoring the eyes she felt burning into her head.

After a minute of sitting in silence, she put the car in park, flipping down the mirror to make sure she’s looking good before unbuckling her seat belt and getting out and helping Bowser out of the car. 

““Stay in the car; it shouldn’t take long for his leg to be checked,” she instructed the stunned man in his seat. 

He nodded mutely, and she shut the door, prancing inside with Bowser in her arms. He watched her until she disappeared from his vision, questions firing off in his head, but the main one was: if her parents were killed, what happened to her? 

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

Authors note:

Hey puddin! That was chapter 6. I hope you liike. I’m trying to move Armando and amor relationship a bit quicker so hopefully it doesn’t feel rushed. But now we know a little bit more about her past yaay!

Also I’m making Armando very flirtatious because in the new movie we do kind of see that he’s shameless (like his damn daddy) specially with that scene when he told Kelly she was fine…. In front of her man. So hope he doesn’t feel too out of character

Anyways I hope you enjoyyy, hopefully I’ll have chapter 7 out by tomorrow night or Monday morning 💕💕

[arintheman]

Art Fight Attacks Masterpost: Team Stardust

It's that time of year again! I know there's still two days left in July, but I did my last attack last night! (I only ever work on attacks at like midnight before my days off and I work the next two days so I don't have the time for more)

I had a lot of fun again! I did A LOT more this year than last year and there are still a lot I wish I did. I have a lot of book marked characters still and people I need to revenge, but that will have to wait until next year unfortunately.

BUT HERES ALL THE ONES I DID AND I'M SUPER HAPPY WITH ALL OF THEM (they are listed in the order I did them and the people are tagged if they listed their tumblr)

Design Attack for @toxinsomnia-art (I couldn't draw with my laptop yet so this is the one traditional one I did)

Cab for @smutav

Eclipse (and Diablo) for IrishMelon

Scragon for @scragon

Halcón for Donnegail

Skav for Cermi

Stygian for Licominga

Alderroot for @swallowthebanjo

Liamor for Sakuzzu

Troutcroak for gummiehearts

Remi and Killure for Krillednuggets

If you don't want to be tagged let me know!

And as always, click for better quality as I draw on a semi-bigger canvas!

Thank you to everyone who attacked me or did a revenge attack! They were all so cool!!!

Now watch me not draw at all for the next month and a half lol

[ladamedusoif]

Masterlist

Header - and slogan - by @agentjackdaniels

Hi there! I’m Rose (she/her/they), I’m 40 and I write fics - described with complete accuracy as “ethical porn for nerdy types” - for Pedro Pascal characters.

This is an 18+ blog so, for safety’s sake, minors should not access the content below.

I love hearing from readers! All comments, reblogs, likes, DMs, and asks are very much appreciated.

If you’d like to be notified about new fics and instalments, please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit - taglists aren’t working well at the moment so this is the easiest way to keep up.

I also cross-publish to AO3 if that's your preferred reading platform.

I do block empty/untitled/ageless blogs so, if that’s you and you’re a real person, just drop me a message - or, better still, populate your blog (you don’t need to be totally specific about your age) with a few things. If you’re not sure how, just ask! I’m happy to help and I’m sure others will be too!

Thank you so much for reading!

Visiting (Professor!Ben College AU - in progress)

Pairing: Professor!Ben x OFC Lydia (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, European art historian Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in the small New England college town of Barrow. She’s planning to spend a year there on leave of absence from her permanent job at home, expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor at Barrow College, a small liberal arts institution. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic Literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

See the main Series Masterlist for specific warnings and content notes.

Tempered in the Fire (Blacksmith!Din Djarin AU short series - in progress)

Pairing: Blacksmith!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: Ireland, almost a decade after the rebellion of 1798. You are an unusual woman: married, but alone; a widow, with no certainty her husband is dead. When your local blacksmith is badly injured in an accident and unable to work, you have no choice but to travel to the next forge, run by a man of few words whose uncertain origins and dark complexion make him stand out among the locals. You are immediately intrigued by this mysterious, taciturn figure - and the striking little boy he’s taken as his apprentice.

Rating: Mature (series); Explicit (18+, later chapters)

See the Series Masterlist for specific warnings and content notes.

Gentleman Thief - The Heritage Crimes Universe (The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) - in progress)

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x F!Museum Professional Reader

Summary: He stole a priceless ruby after your first date. You reunited after the museum's winter ball. And now? Something keeps pulling you into the orbit of the world's greatest (ethical) gentleman thief.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

See the Series Masterlist for specific warnings and notes.

A Merry Fic-Mas - a Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar

31 days. 31 stories (hopefully). 12 Pedro characters.

Inspired by this set of December/holiday themed prompts.

Rating: Teen/Mature/Explicit (see individual chapters for warnings and content notes).

20/20 - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Optometrist F!Reader

Summary: After months of pestering from Sarah, Joel finally concedes that he might to get his eyesight checked and makes an appointment at your optometrist practice. He really doesn’t want glasses, though.

Rating: 18+; not explicit as such but implied; see the warnings on the original story

Café Crème - Javier Peña x f!reader

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Javier likes mornings at your place for more than just coffee.

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI; see more notes on the original post)

A Cup of Kindness, Yet - Javier Peña x f!Reader

Part of the brilliant @pickled-pena writing challenge - check out the blog for the whole masterlist.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Another Auld Lang Syne in Laredo, twenty years after your first with Javi.

Rating: Teen (see notes and warnings on the original)

My Kiss, Only For You - The Thief x Museum Guide f!reader

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x Museum Guide F!Reader

Summary: You’ve noticed a regular attendee on the guided tours you offer as part of your job at the museum - and one day, he decides to ask you for more information on his favourite exhibit.

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI; see more notes on the original)

For the Night - Special Agent Ortega x F!Sex Worker Reader

Pairing: Agent Ortega (The Sixth Gun) x F!Sex Worker Reader

Summary: You might not be one of the “sweet young things” in the whorehouse any more, but a seemingly reluctant special agent helps remind you of your worth.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ (see specific warnings on the post).

Silvered - Detective Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Word count: ~ 800 words

Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI; see specific warnings on the story)

Summary: Tim Rockford’s talented silver tongue has a reputation, in more ways than one.

Gentleman Cowboy - Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels/Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Word count: 3500 words

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI; see specific warnings on the story

Summary: A solo getaway, a whiskey for one, and a very charming cowboy in the big city.

Able - Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Summary: "I just don't think she'll be able for patrol". But then it's just you, Joel, and your trusty walking stick in the middle of nowhere...

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI; reader is disabled; see more specific warnings on the story.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Room Service - Dave York x F! Reader

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You’re at one of those generic conference hotels to meet a man you know only as Dave.

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI; more specific warnings on the story

Word Count: ~2.3k

Coup de Foudre - Lucien Flores x F!Reader

Pairing: Lucien Flores x F!Reader

Summary: Caught in a sudden storm on a break in Paris, you and Lucien race back to the hotel room.

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI; specific warnings on the story

Word Count: ~1.1k

Part of the April Showers Challenge organised by @undercoverpena

[askagamedev]

On the topic of generative AI, what jobs are game companies looking to replace with it first? I imagine that concept art is going to be one the easiest things to replace and I harass some games are using AI to fill out voice over work ( AI is a major sticking point between game companies and the voice actor union right now), but what other jobs are at risk of being replaced?

Honestly, right now it's actually rather difficult to replace entire jobs with generative AI. It's much more of a situation where AI would be used to augment and fill in small knowledge gaps rather than replace contributions from individual developers.

Recently, a development company called Keywords attempted to build a 2D game internally using only generative AI tools. Keywords is a well-established co-development studio that has helped out with development on many large projects like Alan Wake, CoD: MW3 (2023), Super Mario Bros Wonder, Mortal Kombat 1, Starfield, Madden, Diablo IV, Skull and Bones, Baldur's Gate 3, Elden Ring, and so on. After six months the Keywords team [reported on their findings]:

Whilst the project team started small, it identified over 400 tools, evaluating and utilising those with the best potential. Despite this, we ultimately utilised bench resource from seven different game development studios as part of the project, as the tooling was unable to replace talent. One of the key learnings was that whilst Gen AI may simplify or accelerate certain processes, the best results and quality needed can only be achieved by experts in their field utilising Gen AI as a new, powerful tool in their creative process.

This gels with my own experience with Gen AI - it's an expanded Dunning-Kruger situation. Gen AI can create all kinds of content or results but it requires actual expertise in the field in order to separate the wheat from the chaff. Without having the skills needed to determine if something is good or not, the Gen AI results aren't (yet) good enough to use to build something.

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[justafairytailofinnocence]

may i request a headcanon, imagine, or oneshot (whichever is easiest and best for you!) of will turner x male (or GN if it works better for you!) who’s like..a vampire. has super sharp + long canine teeth (and whatever the ‘bottom canine’ teeth are called), slightly pointy ears, heightened senses, sensitivity to sun, obviously the, y’know, drinks blood bit-

if you want more information, or just don’t want to do it at all, no worries! also, feel free to alter anything to your wishes! have a great day! :)

Will turner x m/gn vampire reader 🧛🌊

A/n: so, in this headcanon despite it being an x reader of male or gn, your nickname is Alucard.

The night was your life. The blood was your need, and death was an old friend. You were a creature of the night; a nosferatu, a demon, a monster who preyed on the weak—draining their blood when you were hungry.

In 1696, you were a living being with a beating heart—you were able to breathe life, and you were able to feel satisfied in hunger, thirst, and desire. You had outlived your predecessors. You were a product made not of god's creation.

You went by many names, but the most known being 'diavolul nopţii' or 'el diablo de la noche'. The devil of the night 🌙.

You had no recollections of your origin. It was many centuries ago. You recalled being born in 1462, the time of the great war between vlad the imapler, son of the dracul, and the Ottoman empire.

You were but a small child, too young to remember your parents. They had perhaps abandoned you during the time of the war to save their own skin or planned to use you as a sacrifice to save themselves from the deranged vlad or ottomans themselves.

You remembered seeing the whisps of flames surrounding the outside of your home. Scared and unkowning of what to do, you ran beneath the small, chiselled wooden dining table. You knew death was imitable. The flames growing by the second, and the black smoke clouding the rooms in a whole. Sooner or later, you'll be engulfed, seeing hell before you.

As your vision became blurry and your breath running thin. A shape you barely made out gripped you by the rags you wore, carrying your small body out from the burning building. Mayhaps it was the grace of God sparing you, a child, from a horrific death.

A tall man with a stout build covered in heavy silver armour dropped you from his shoulder. You were brought before a man with wide, green eyes, a long straight nose with a thin-reddish face.

It was him. You thought. It was—Prince Vlad tepes.

You spoke no words, you didn't know how to. All you could do was bow your head as Vlad sneered at you, assuming you were a peasant.

"Kill the boy/child—" His voice was raspy with a snide. Until the army man who saved you had holted the others. "Your grace, a symbol, look! On the boy's/child's arm."

Vlad, curious, narrowed his eyes, gripping the boy's arm with brute force and lifting his rag's sleeve. "A Diavol, my lord, a chosen sacrafice." The army man spoke out.

Vlad's eyes remained narrow, depicting a decision one could assume to kill or let live.

He waved a signal to his men, and immediately, you were bounded by rope, tossed on the back of the army man's white stallion, riding back toward the bran castle in the Transylvanian Alps, the southern Cartharpian mountains.

Through your childhood, you had been adopted as an apprentice to study in the black arts of magic and alchemy. Some say you were the adopted son of vlad, yet he was far from what you expected. You were dubbed Alucard. The son of the dracul'.

Many described you as clean in appearance, appearing with innocent eyes yet written with damage from the world's doing.

You read many books and history and learnt many skills that none had been able to achieve. You had a strong connection with the strigoi and moroi. Both blood sucking creatures that rose from the dead.

As you entered your teenage years, you had a fascination for blood, a fondness rather. Studying it, observing it from animals or others. You wanted to learn the science behind it, straying from the myths and lies the churches had been trying to explain.

Many feared you would turn into Vlad himself, a monster depraved of humanity.

Vlad hadn't always been the doting father figure, yet he was proud to say you were the closet thing to a son he ever had.

One day, in the village, you were arriving back from gathering ingredients to conjure your experiment. You met a young man, same as your age. He was different, though, in contrast to your appearance. He was more fuller in life. He had dark brown hair that reached his shoulders with brown eyes. He wore a light brown garb, and he carried a book with a familiar symbol.

"Speak your name, or you shall fall from the pits of grace," you sneered, the same way your father had once when he saw you.

"Forgive me, my name is avram," he pleaded.

The boy was far weaker and submissive compared to your stature.

You didn't think much of him yet, you later learnt he was the son of a Catholic man. He was kinder, not threatening you, which was foreign in your eyes.

"Your eyes, it's as if life has crumbled before you," avram nervously commented.

"What do you know of my life, you know nothing," you said with a hiss.

"I may not know you deeply, but I know lightness can be shed even in the darkest of man," he smiled softly.

You sneered, "Your foolish tongue shall be carved onto my silver platter."

Before you said anything more, he knelt down and offered you a plant—malva. He then placed it in your hand, curling your fingers. "I can teach you life. Healing is one of many things gifted from god's love. And everything around deserves life—even you."

You found yourself staring into his deep brown eyes. There was something about this boy you found different. Your cheeks turned to a slight tinge of red. You've never felt this way before. All you've known is darkness and evil, yet when he introduced you to light, you felt an odd sensation of warmth.

In the coming days, you tried to catch up with the avram, spending every hour speaking of amenities of healing and treatment. During the nights, you dreamt of him, desiring to lie in the sun by his son as he comforted you from the darkness.

You hadn't seen vlad in days, wondering if he was dead, but for now, it didn't matter. You had, for once in your life, felt a happiness you've yearned for.

Avram was the personafication of light.

On one summer eve, you both lay in the Cartharpian mountains forest, feeling the warmth on your faces. Your eyes lingered over to his hand, and with curiosity, you grabbed it. "I never told you my name. It's Alucard."

He smiled, a lightness emitting from within his words. "I will light the way through your darkness, Alucard, I'll guide the light through hell and heaven to save you".

Filled with emotions, both your hands cupped Avram's cheek, pulling him toward you into a kiss.

His lips were soft and wet, yours rough with a slight smoothness. You found love, and he was the love of your life.

Yet, that would soon change when you arrived back at the castle's gate. You saw blood trailed from the outer path. Curious, you followed it back inside until it led you to the castle's main entrance. Bodies—the bodies of the guards and armies men lay dead among the stone floors of the castle.

Creeping inside the castle, trailing along the blood along the stone floors. You stop, the blood trailed from the floor to the walls and—to the roof. You clenched your mouth in confusion and rage. Someone had trespassed into your home and slaughtered your father's allies. Soon, your thoughts turned to fear, fearing your father would be dead.

You dashed through the main room of the castle until you reached his chambers. From there, you opened the wooden door, entering slowly, seeing more blood trails running up the wall.

Something scurried behind you. You turned, yet a dark shadow had emerged. "My dear boy/child, oh how you've grown," two elongated fingers with sharp nails like claws grasped both your shoulders.

"Tată, what happened to you?" you said, backing slowly against the wall. The fear you felt was flashing back to when you were in your house as a child surrounded by fire.

"I've read your little book of necromancy, I've taken it upon myself to become a creature not of god's grace," he said with a hiss. You could feel a hint of two long canines poking your skin.

"A vampyre," his grip hardened as you winced.

Your eyes widened as you felt two long needle like canines pierce your neck with ease. Your body paralysed, and you could feel the burning sensation overtake your throat.

"I grant you the powers of a nosferatu." Your vision turned to black as the last thing you felt was the burning sensation of fire.

————

1728, the day of the commodore's promotion. Will was making a small sword decorated with tinges of gold in the hilt.

He was excited he completed such fine mastery, but more so, it's a chance to see Elizabeth.

He placed a black leather scabbard over the fine smallsword. The hilt stuck out and attached at the very end of the end of the pammel was a silver rope like tassel.

He began to head toward the manor to show Govener Swann the Commodore's sword.

Trailing along the docks of Port Royal, he noticed a mysterious figure. The figure wasn't like anyone he had met before. However, he didn't want to meddle and dally. He disregarded the stranger and kept trailing on toward the path of the manor.

The stranger locked eyes onto his; a young man/person in their early adulthood, around the same age. You stared deeply into Will's eyes. Your frontal canines were longer than any human he knew, and his ears were angular.

Your eyes were a deep crimson that had some alluring affect to them.

Will was baffled by the appearance yet pulled in by the appeal.

You wore a dark overcoat concealing your attire and a dark laced umbrella to protect yourself from the sun.

Your ears perked up, hearing his blood flow and light breaths. You knew he was curious about you.

Your thin snake like tongue licked your lips when your eyes laid upon his neck.

Will was strangely allured to you. Your elongated fingers stretched around Will's head. "Avram, my love, I've returned at last," he heard in a muttered husk.

Will perked up his neck as you leant forward, you shifted your height at will, and your canines grew more as your irises turned from red to black.

Yet, as you leaned down, the sunlight touched your wrist, causing you to feel slightly burning. You hissed back into the shadow of the building.

Will confused stumbled back. "What are you—".

You replied with a guttural lurking growl, "not of your kind."

Will, out of instinct, drew out the commodore's sword. "I warn you sir, I do not wish to fight you, I'm saving the day for when I use a sword, it'll be for a pirate—so I can kill it."

As he lunged forward, your body turned to a black mist, tempting him forward. He dropped the smallsword as you wrapped your hands around his. "Do. Not. Fear. Me" you say sternly.

"—Avram—come to me—come to the land of the living and the damned" your lips softly press against Will's.

Will was strangely paralysed, as if it was hypnosis, holting him from any movement.

He wondered, who Avram was? Why you called him so?

He gently called out, whispering "My n-name is Will Turner."

As he closed his eyes, you vanished, dropping his weight. He steadied himself looking around.

You were no where in sight.

He picked up the commodore's sword coming to his senses, trailing on—not wanting to find out what will come next.

Over the the next few days, you stalked him, keeping up with his sleeping patterns. Leaving gifts for him and gently enamouring him in your grasp.

Though, when you learnt of Elizabeth Swann, your mouth growled with a disdainful hiss. You fell in love with Will, you needed him, he was the only connection to Avram.

Only you hatched a plan to turn Will on a dead night. To make him your lover and live in the castle of wallachia—only problem—Dracula.

[snek-eyes]

You recently claimed "there are no stupid questions," so I'd like to know what nail polish/manicure you'd choose for Crowley, Aziraphale, and whoever else from the cast tickles your fancy. :) And does the choice vary if they walk into your salon and tell you it's for a ~date~? :D

Aaaha 😂 okay, to the salon we go! 💅✨

Aziraphale canonically gets his nails done regularly, but I think he'd normally go in for a simple manicure without polish, maybe just a clear coat. He enjoys the experience and the practice of keeping his corporation neat and tidy, but doesn't feel the need for alteration.

That said, if he walks into my hypothetical salon and mentions he's going for a date, I think I could nudge him into something with a subtle bit of sparkle.

(Rumor has it, Portfolio, Hope, Aria)

I doubt he'd actually go for Aria, but I'd suggest it to get a laugh and make the others seem reasonable. And hey, maybe someday!

He'd pick one of the subtle ones and giggle over being daring. And of course, Crowley would actually notice and be impressed by the change.

Crowley I see as a matte black creme for most days, but he's a multichrome guy when he's feeling fancy. Maaaybe some understated shimmer. I don't really feel sparkles for him, but threw a couple in to tempt him with.

(Eclipse, Lights Out, Annabelle, Diablo)

He's briefly intrigued by Diablo, until he notices the name and gets annoyed at falling into a cliche. Maybe if there was something as dark as Annabelle but more red, he's got an aesthetic to maintain, after all.

If we want a touch of angst, for things they'd avoid: I think Aziraphale would have complicated feelings about applying earthly golds to his corporation in such a way. And Crowley would find magnetics that imitate space charming, but find them too lacking to enjoy wearing them himself. Which is a shame, because he could miracle them perfect without having to wait for the dang magnet.

Maggie I see as a person who enjoys the self-care ritual of painting her own nails. She would mostly do solid cremes or jellies, but once in a while she'd enjoy an afternoon playing around with stamping and other cutesy nail art.

(The entire Tea Crèmes collection is so her aesthetic. Stamps from Maniology, those photos are me and I can't currently remember all the colors, but the orange is Zyler The Cat.)

However, in the special occasion that she's going to a shop, I can see her branching out like Aziraphale and having fun with a jelly flakie or a shimmer.

(Gumdrop, Fairy Dust)

Nina initially grumbles about getting dragged along for this hypothetical, but then her eye gets caught by the foils. Maybe she goes with the classic gold, but her coffee shop suggests she likes blue. She spends the rest of the day catching sight of her nails and smiling to herself.

(Skyline, AU)

[richincolor]

9 QTPoC books for your 2023 Pride Month TBR

Happy Pride Month! Every year, I do a little round-up of YA books starring LGBTQ and BIPOC characters that have come out so far this year. This year was particularly exciting -- there were so many books that I loved or have at the very top of my TBR! So, without further ado, here's 9 of them for your TBR!

The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa El Diablo is in the details in this Latinx pirate fantasy starring a transmasculine nonbinary teen with a mission of revenge, redemption, and revolution.

On Mar León-de la Rosa's 16th birthday, el Diablo comes calling. Mar is a transmasculine nonbinary teen pirate hiding a magical ability to manipulate fire and ice. But their magic isn't enough to reverse a wicked bargain made by their father and now el Diablo has come to collect his payment: the soul of Mar's father and the entire crew of their ship. When Mar is miraculously rescued by the sole remaining pirate crew in the Caribbean, el Diablo returns to give them a choice: give up your soul to save your father by the Harvest Moon or never see him again. The task is impossible--Mar refuses to make a bargain and there's no way their magic is any match for el Diablo. Then, Mar finds the most unlikely allies: Bas, an infuriatingly arrogant and handsome pirate -- and the captain's son; and Dami, a genderfluid demonio whose motives are never quite clear. For the first time in their life, Mar may have the courage to use their magic. It could be their only redemption -- or it could mean certain death.

Fake Dates and Mooncakes by Sher Lee Heartstopper meets Crazy Rich Asians in this heartfelt, joyful paperback original rom-com that follows an aspiring chef who discovers the recipe for love is more complicated than it seems when he starts fake-dating a handsome new customer.

Dylan Tang wants to win a Mid-Autumn Festival mooncake-making competition for teen chefs—in memory of his mom, and to bring much-needed publicity to his aunt’s struggling Chinese takeout in Brooklyn.

Enter Theo Somers: charming, wealthy, with a smile that makes Dylan’s stomach do backflips. AKA a distraction. Their worlds are sun-and-moon apart, but Theo keeps showing up. He even convinces Dylan to be his fake date at a family wedding in the Hamptons. In Theo’s glittering world of pomp, privilege, and crazy rich drama, their romance is supposed to be just pretend... but Dylan finds himself falling for Theo. For real. Then Theo’s relatives reveal their true colors—but with the mooncake contest looming, Dylan can’t risk being sidetracked by rich-people problems.Can Dylan save his family’s business and follow his heart—or will he fail to do both?

Ander & Santi Were Here by Jonny Garza Villa Aristotle and Dante meets The Hate U Give meets The Sun Is Also A Star: A stunning YA contemporary love story about a Mexican-American teen who falls in love with an undocumented Mexican boy.

Finding home. Falling in love. Fighting to belong. The Santos Vista neighborhood of San Antonio, Texas, is all Ander Martínez has ever known. The smell of pan dulce. The mixture of Spanish and English filling the streets. And, especially their job at their family's taquería. It's the place that has inspired Ander as a muralist, and, as they get ready to leave for art school, it's all of these things that give them hesitancy. That give them the thought, are they ready to leave it all behind?

To keep Ander from becoming complacent during their gap year, their family "fires" them so they can transition from restaurant life to focusing on their murals and prepare for college. That is, until they meet Santiago López Alvarado, the hot new waiter. Falling for each other becomes as natural as breathing. Through Santi's eyes, Ander starts to understand who they are and want to be as an artist, and Ander becomes Santi's first steps toward making Santos Vista and the United States feel like home. Until ICE agents come for Santi, and Ander realizes how fragile that sense of home is. How love can only hold on so long when the whole world is against them. And when, eventually, the world starts to win.

She Is a Haunting by Trang Thanh Tran A house with a terrifying appetite haunts a broken family in this atmospheric horror, perfect for fans of Mexican Gothic.

When Jade Nguyen arrives in Vietnam for a visit with her estranged father, she has one goal: survive five weeks pretending to be a happy family in the French colonial house Ba is restoring. She’s always lied to fit in, so if she’s straight enough, Vietnamese enough, American enough, she can get out with the college money he promised. But the house has other plans. Night after night, Jade wakes up paralyzed. The walls exude a thrumming sound, while bugs leave their legs and feelers in places they don’t belong. She finds curious traces of her ancestors in the gardens they once tended. And at night Jade can’t ignore the ghost of the beautiful bride who leaves her cryptic warnings: Don’t eat.

Neither Ba nor her sweet sister Lily believe that there is anything strange happening. With help from a delinquent girl, Jade will prove this house—the home her family has always wanted—will not rest until it destroys them. Maybe, this time, she can keep her family together. As she roots out the house’s rot, she must also face the truth of who she is and who she must become to save them all.

Venom & Vow by Anna-Marie McLemore, Elliott McLemore Keep your enemy closer.

Cade McKenna is a transgender prince who’s doubling for his brother. Valencia Palafox is a young dama attending the future queen of Eliana. Gael Palma is the infamous boy assassin Cade has vowed to protect. Patrick McKenna is the reluctant heir to a kingdom, and the prince Gael has vowed to destroy. Cade doesn’t know that Gael and Valencia are the same person. Valencia doesn’t know that every time she thinks she’s fighting Patrick, she’s fighting Cade. And when Cade and Valencia blame each other for a devastating enchantment that takes both their families, neither of them realizes that they have far more dangerous enemies.

Cowritten by married writing team Anna-Marie and Elliott McLemore, this is a lush and powerful YA novel about owning your power and becoming who you really are - no matter the cost.

You Don't Have a Shot by Racquel Marie A queer YA romance about rival soccer players from author Racquel Marie, perfect for fans of She Drives Me Crazy .

Valentina “Vale” Castillo-Green’s life revolves around soccer. Her friends, her future, and her father’s intense expectations are all wrapped up in the beautiful game. But after she incites a fight during playoffs with her long-time rival, Leticia Ortiz, everything she’s been working toward seems to disappear.

Embarrassed and desperate to be anywhere but home, Vale escapes to her beloved childhood soccer camp for a summer of relaxation and redemption…only to find out that she and the endlessly aggravating Leticia will be co-captaining a team that could play in front of college scouts. But the competition might be stiffer than expected, so unless they can get their rookie team’s act together, this second chance―and any hope of playing college soccer―will slip through Vale’s fingers. When the growing pressure, friendship friction, and her overbearing father push Vale to turn to Leticia for help, what starts off as a shaky alliance of necessity begins to blossom into something more through a shared love of soccer. . . and maybe each other.

The Dos and Donuts of Love by Adiba Jaigirdar A pun-filled YA contemporary romance, The Dos and Donuts of Love by Adiba Jaigirdar finds a teenage girl competing in a televised baking competition, with contestants including her ex-girlfriend and a potential new crush - perfect for fans of The Great British Bake Off and She Drives Me Crazy!

“Welcome to the first ever Junior Irish Baking Show!”

Shireen Malik is still reeling from the breakup with her ex-girlfriend, Chris, when she receives news that she’s been accepted as a contestant on a new televised baking competition show. This is Shireen’s dream come true! Because winning will not only mean prize money, but it will also bring some much-needed attention to You Drive Me Glazy, her parents’ beloved donut shop.

Things get complicated, though, because Chris is also a contestant on the show. Then there’s the very outgoing Niamh, a fellow contestant who is becoming fast friends with Shireen. Things are heating up between them, and not just in the kitchen. As the competition intensifies, Shireen will have to ignore all these factors and more― including potential sabotage―if she wants a sweet victory!

My Dear Henry by Kalynn Bayron In this gothic YA remix of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, a teen boy tries to discover the reason behind his best friend's disappearance—and the arrival of a mysterious and magnetic stranger—in misty Victorian London.

London, 1885. Gabriel Utterson, a 17-year-old law clerk, has returned to London for the first time since his life— and that of his dearest friend, Henry Jekyll—was derailed by a scandal that led to his and Henry's expuslion from the London Medical School. Whispers about the true nature of Gabriel and Henry's relationship have followed the boys for two years, and now Gabriel has a chance to start again. But Gabriel doesn't want to move on, not without Henry. His friend has become distant and cold since the disastrous events of the prior spring, and now his letters have stopped altogether. Desperate to discover what's become of him, Gabriel takes to watching the Jekyll house.

In doing so, Gabriel meets Hyde, a a strangely familiar young man with white hair and a magnetic charisma. He claims to be friends with Henry, and Gabriel can't help but begin to grow jealous at their apparent closeness, especially as Henry continues to act like Gabriel means nothing to him. But the secret behind Henry's apathy is only the first part of a deeper mystery that has begun to coalesce. Monsters of all kinds prowl within the London fog—and not all of them are out for blood...

As You Walk On By by Julian Winters The Breakfast Club meets Can't Hardly Wait with an unforgettable ensemble cast in another swoony YA contemporary from award-winning author Julian Winters!

Seventeen-year-old Theo Wright has it all figured out. His plan (well, more like his dad's plan) is a foolproof strategy that involves exceling at his magnet school, getting scouted by college recruiters, and going to Duke on athletic scholarship. But for now, all Theo wants is a perfect prom night. After his best friend Jay dares Theo to prompose to his crush at Chloe Campbell's party, Theo's ready to throw caution to the wind and take his chances.

But when the promposal goes epically wrong, Theo seeks refuge in an empty bedroom while the party rages on downstairs. Having an existential crisis about who he really is with and without his so-called best friend wasn't on tonight's agenda. Though, as the night goes on, Theo finds he's not as alone as he thinks when, one by one, new classmates join him to avoid who they're supposed be outside the bedroom door. Among them, a familiar acquaintance, a quiet outsider, an old friend, and a new flame . . .

[voidtouched-blue]

It's my birthday today! I'm turning 31, and I celebrated by going to see the 30th anniversary of The Lion King at my local theatre with my parents and partner. It was a treat, and I'm finishing off my celebrations today with a little diablo once my parents are back home from their visit.

It was a good day. I'll be working on more replies and having those placed in queue so I'm not overwhelming myself with the immediate need to reply as fast as possible. Everything is going smoothly and I should be back to being more active here by the end of this month. Just gotta handle moving from my current home to a new one, and then we will be home free.

Thank you all for your patience! I hope to come back with dozens of DT headcanons and new facts to share as well as getting some substantial work done on Cyra's timeline (which I will include as a separate page linked in her bio for those die-hard followers who need to know absolutely everything about her). I'm excited to be getting back into writing. It's been a really sad couple of months dealing with personal things and not having time or energy for this. Glad to be getting back into it, and hopefully I'll have some new art for y'all soon.

[dark-is-d3ad]

Moving AU, part 3, anyone? Haven't got a tv and a ps5 like Ghost, but I do have some lights now (gosh my own headcanon made me want them so bad, why do I do this to myself).

Part 1, part 2, part 2.5 - context.

• A few days later it really starts getting on Ghost's nerves. Even with help from Gaz and Roach, a lot of their stuff isn't sorted yet, and they're both tired of it already. He's used to order, his home was always organised, and this is nowhere near it, and it won't be for foreseeable future. So, he does the only sane thing every adult person should do in this situation: holes up on the sofa and goes on a gaming binge.

• Ghost's sofa is black (of course), huge, and it's just a sofa. No plead, no pillows. A comfy one, yes, but to Soap it looks kinda empty. Well, given that its owner only has one chair to his name, Johnny knows better than to expect something else. Yet, he kind of wants to sneak in a couple of pillows, and is very surprised when Ghost protects his space with ferocity of a wild cat. No funny colours on his sofa of doom, not even a smidge. Johnny's slightly upset, but he's not giving up on the plan.

• He starts by fucking around. Then sits down to play Diablo with Ghost in the evening. Brings a plead and a nice mustard-coloured pillow in a little while, just to make himself comfy for the time being, OK? It's fucking cold. And then he conveniently forgets them there. Several days of shenanigans after, Ghost concedes.

"Pillow allowance," he says, so seriously it cracks Soap up. "No more than two, no patterns." No patterns it is. Johnny still counts it as a win.

• Soap's go-to sorting method is "make em piles". He's got a clean laundry pile, a dirty laundry pile, a kitchen pile, a random stuff pile, and he keeps throwing things around when he goes through the rest of the stuff they have to sort. With all due respect, that annoys Ghost to an extreme degree, because there's piles everywhere, but it doesn't look like they're getting smaller. If anything, they started to consume the little space they had.

• The "dirty dishes" pile is one of them, and Ghost finally takes care of it. They both dislike washing dishes, but someone's gotta do it. And it apparently annoys him more than Johhny, so Ghost gets to get rid of it. He feels so much better when it's all done, dried, and put away.

• They've split the wardrobe, and Soap's side is still partly in the pile state. It's also how Ghost learns that Soap doesn't really iron his clothes unless it's like a shirt he's going to wear on a wedding today, and he has to. At this point he's really starting to question his own sanity. Why does it bother him what Soap does (or doesn't) with his clothes? He really needs to chill out, he decides.

• Johnny's really doing just fine, because none of what Ghost does really bothers him, and he's in his lane, somehow managing to hop around his newly made piles while still on crutches, and he does it so effortlessly. It's Ghost who keeps stumbling on them and cursing all the time.

• Somehow there's not much space for Ghost's gun collection. Ok, he's got a place to work on them, but he doesn't want to store them away. After a while, they decide that one of the bedroom walls can be sacrificed so he can hang them up nicely.

"Are we sleeping in the armoury now?" Soap asks.

"You've got your toys,I've got mine."

Fair.

• Johnny's art room is one of the spaces that actually came together from the get go. All of his things had fit, and it's got a nice space to it, enough to put an easel out, and maybe set up a composition. And the light is good. There's a shelf in there almost bursting from the art supplies he had accumulated over the years. The best way to describe it would be "organised chaos." Somehow, while in other spaces the chaos really gets to Ghost, he enjoys it in the art room. He's been spending more and more time in there.

• Johnny has a little really soft futon with loads of pillows in the corner, just next to his desk (it's not for naps, OK? It's for a performance series where the artist explores their understanding of comfort, and if they happen to start to snore, it's a part of it). So, Ghost is now also an artist of sorts. He's been doing these performance pieces quite alright, working on it tirelessly almost every afternoon, and Johnny really doesn't mind it for two big reasons. First: he gets to draw relaxed Ghost, sometimes even maskless. Second: it's nice to join him there, too. It's a perfect cuddling space.

• What Ghost loves about the futon corner is that it is freaking ultimate safety. Even his sofa wasn't ever as good as this. He can actually sleep there without nightmares. The fact that Johnny's around doing his thing, the quiet rustling of pencil on paper, music low on the background - it knocks him out better than any sleeping aids he had ever tried. He usually comes there with a book, but never goes through more than 10 pages at most.

• After their kitchen finally got sorted, they found a quick understanding. If one cooks, the other does the dishes. Soap basically takes over dinners, Ghost does breakfasts, and they usually have a snack in the midday rather than a proper lunch. Also, Johnny shows him a couple of tricks to level up his cooking game, so now breakfasts are getting fancier. Ghost's secretly very proud of himself. And Soap doesn't miss a chance to praise him when it turns out good which honestly helps way more than he's ready to admit.

• Ghost basically stole a couple of finished paintings and hung them up in the living room. Soap tries to argue that they aren't his best ones, and they aren't good enough, and he could probably find a multitude of reasons why they should take them down.

"But I like them," Ghost says simply. And it's hard to argue with that. Besides, after a couple of days, Johnny gets used to it, and deems them "not too bad". It's a tie now, and a bloody good comeback for the pillow intrusion.

• He lets Johnny help him take care of the guns. It's a nice chill evening, they work on them together, Soap's humming a little silly tune under his breath. Ghost says they really have to take them out on a shooting range when his shoulder is better, shoot some plates or something. Johnny's thrilled about it.

• A few days later, Ghost finally declares war on the rest of the piles, and goes through them in one go, not stopping until they're gone for good. There's very little random stuff left after that, and they just put it all in a box and make a very responsible adult decision to put it away and go through it sometime later. Both know that it will probably never happen, but do they care? Not really.

~~~

"You know what's weird, Johnny?"

"What?"

"You know how if you're left with extra parts in a Lego set that means you've messed up a step somewhere?"

"Yeah, and?"

"We've got some screws, and that one is definitely from that chair. It's supposed to go in first."

"Oh, hell no, Si, we're not doing it again."

~~~

• They are even hosting a little housewarming party. Ghost never had one, so he's way too anxious, although it's just the close circle - their team + Laswell and her wife.

P.S. there will probably be one more part with the party, some neighbour action, a little more of outside stuff, but that's where I'm wrapping it up. After all, the move is done, piles are almost gone, and I'm close to being a functional human being again.

[noonmutter]

bit of a rant about Mists of Pandaria Remix below, skip this if you don't want to read what's mostly just me venting about some stupid shit the team did years ago. this involves minor spoilers about plot points that are largely irrelevant to the overall story but if you wanna be surprised you'd prolly be mad at me for mentioning

so I'm running through MOP Remix just like a huge chunk of WoW players right now, right

and this was the expac that'd come out before the expac I joined the game in, which was WoD. The Tanaan patch of WoD. I joined during an objectively awful part of WoW. People had a habit of singing MoP's praises (at least for the story) a lot in comparison to WoD, although the bar wasn't very hard to clear.

So I played MoP's story as a character that vastly outleveled it and didn't have to gear up and grind my way through it, and I had the same general experience as most new players did, which was constantly wondering what I was missing because a few fairly significant story beats were relegated to happening in novels or just had cinematics that weren't accessible in the game anymore, shit like that

and I remember actively avoiding the main alliance v. horde plot because I really didn't care, I wanted to see what the Shaohao stuff was about, because man those cinematics were gorgeous (and at the time, unique to MoP; they hadn't gotten lazy and reused the art style for Diablo 3 where it didn't belong yet). I wanted to know what those were about and how they expanded! And gosh, that was great and rewarding! Wow!

so in Remix, I'm running ALL the storylines, because every quest rewards a buttload of bronze and stuff, and gimme gimme gimme, I wanna collect all the cool shit.

but oh. my GOD.

I can't even evaluate the story from a watsonian perspective, where I look at the actions the characters take and their political ramifications and whether X person made the right call or if Y could've stopped this other thing if they'd just found the magic doodad or whatever. I simply can't. It's all written in such a hamfisted, "we don't understand politics or what actually causes systemic hatred or bigotry or the general concept of moral nuance" way that I cannot evaluate the characters because the writing is just not good enough to stay immersed in it when big plot points hit.

I can't sit here and compare Jaina's stupid murderous kirin tor rampage with Garrosh's Anything At All because I'm too busy thinking about all the ways both of them were poorly written into their respective story beats.

The Alliance and Horde stories do not depict the same events. An Alliance player sees the Horde do things that Horde players never even hear about, and vice versa. And it's not minor stuff. Alliance players do not experience an Alliance airstrip being built in one part of the Jade Forest, where they take Pandaren slaves--including children--to do it. We don't see it, we don't hear about it, it's never referenced even as a throwaway line later on. It's just a thing that happens completely in a vacuum. When I encountered this event in the Horde storyline, it was so unknown to me as an Alliance player that I went looking for the air strip and was surprised to actually find it accessible on the map. I fully expected it to actually not exist, phased or some shit, if you weren't Horde. That's how divergent it was. And that's bad. That's not like 'ooh wow what a twist,' that's 'who the fuck directed this?'

Remix really shines a spotlight on how immature the writing in MoP got, because it shows a fundamental lack of comprehension of the basic concept of equivalence. We didn't need to see both sides take slaves in order to accept that they were both equally morally wrong for perpetuating a racially-motivated war; they've already been doing awful shit to one another for years prior to the expansion that was good enough to showcase it. We especially did not need to not see our own side take slaves in order to stir up more hate against the other faction.

If that event needed to be included in the game so bad, it absolutely should've been something Alliance players found too. We should've been faced with the idea that xenophobia, zealotry, and hatred were not relegated to The Other Guy and that the guys who looked like us and wore our colors could be monstrous bastards, too. It would've played beautifully into the general theme of Pandaria.

But that writing team failed to do that at every opportunity, and given how beautiful and poignant other chunks of the story (the parts largely divorced from AvH) were, I can't think it's because the team itself was incompetent. It stinks of executive meddling and the kind of mentality that led to shit like the "build an entire expansion just to justify this cool image I have of Sylvanas burning down Teldrassil" incident.

It's just so disappointing to go through it and see it and be able to point a big neon arrow at it and go "this right here was a dev team actively encouraging its player base to actually hate each other" which is very different from encouraging competition. Even though the overarching theme of Pandaria was learning to let things go and swallow your pride before it destroys everything you care about, the actual plot frequently made the players experiencing it hate each other as people.

and I think that might very well have been an underlying point of Remix. because man does it make me appreciate the current story team even more than I already did.