#impossible to get rid of

[ashmcgivern]

Time for a new ref for the boy!

Not a whole lot to say! Zeal's wings are finally fully grown in, and he's getting a lot better at using them. For a while he was pretty clumsy but he's had about a month and a half in-game to get used to them (we did a lot of overland travel recently that took ages).

His horns are also turning gold - the more (Divine Soul) Sorcerer levels he takes, the more his inner Celestial blood takes root. The wings are a wonderful culmination of him accepting (for the most part) the Fiendish side of him, but he's a bit worried about them looking menacing. He's been able to temporarily change their color using Transmute Sorcery Points though, and it's giving him ideas.

I really wanted to see what he'd look like with a smaller profile so I drew them folded as well - they're not TOTALLY 1 for 1 on volume but it's all I can be bothered with right now. Zeal's general footprint has grown so much which... is so fucking funny considering he's the twink. He's the largest creature by far in the group now purely on square footage.

[los-plantalones]

reblog to share some mint with your followers. just don't let it escape containment, okay?

Edit as if 6/17: Y’ALL FAILED ME

[fayevalcntine]

An Extended Look at Season 2

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

and the thing is i'm not saying logan was the best driver or anything. but i think, and maybe i'm being too sensitive, that the way logan was treated was absolutely horrible and should never happen again

[initial-lime]

Taking a quick moment to de-yassify Jon the way he would actually appear in canon FT. The gross cardigan

[tls123]

when your wife is hot and a bitch

[moongreenlight]

Greek mythology/the Olympians has been my hyperfixation for going on two decades now and I just… Soap as Dionysus.

Always brings a good bottle of wine and a few rooted cuttings of ivy as a housewarming gift. If he’s fixed his attention on you, he’ll also put a few sex toys in the little bag he brings. Puts them right on top for the pleasure of seeing your scramble to try to shove them in a drawer or tuck the whole gift in the closet.

He’s a great time. Has this intoxicating way about him. Like life is a stage and he’s the director. Playful and fun, though a little too enthusiastic at times. Handsy when the two of you hang out. You assume that’s just his nature and excuse it accordingly. Hard not to, gorgeous man that he is. A divine kind of handsome. Like his features are an eons-old amalgamation of all the most beautiful features humans have ever had.

And he gets strangely possessive, even after you’ve been nudging back his wandering hands or putting your hand between his mouth and your neck all night. Borders on vindictive and aggressive if he’s not in the right headspace.

It’s a bit terrifying to see him snapping his teeth in the face of some man at the bar who had only just asked you if you’d wanted a drink. You swear later in the night you see him babbling feverishly to a group of his friends. It sounds like total gibberish, and his friends look even more confused than you feel, but his eyes are wide as saucers and his hands are flying about hazardously. You don’t think much of it after Soap pulls you by the waist to the corner booth and tips a cocktail up to your mouth.

He keeps you out until all hours of the night. Insists on staying jovial. Club-hopping to find the best crowd, best music, best conversation. Keeps you up and active for so long that the confines of reality start to become fuzzy at the edges.

Sexuality expressed through bodies writing and twisting in drunken dance. Bumping up against one another. Collecting strangers and your own sweat in fat beads on your skin that make you shiver when they get heavy enough to trail down the small of your back.

When the room is spinning enough to make you stumble just a bit and you’re unable to do anything but giggle about it, he’s somehow able to make sneaking off into the family bathroom together seem like a good idea. He seems just as drunk as you are, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walk. Bellowing a laugh when his hand grazes your tit but making no attempt to pull it away.

It’s less easy to be oblivious when you’re in the bathroom together. The muffled music filtering through the bottom of the door. He’s pressing up against you even though now there’s no crowd to excuse his practically grinding his groin on your hip.

It smells like sweat and generic brand bathroom cleaner. You hum when he staggers to the urinal instead of griping at him about how crass it is to take a piss right in front of you. He props himself up on the wall with one hand and a moment after you hear the teeth of his zipper come undone, he lets out a throaty, satisfied groan.

You busy yourself looking in the mirror. Checking your makeup. Seeing if you look as drunk as you feel. It’s filthy. There’s a web of cracks coming from the bottom left where it looks like someone tried to send their fist through to the wall behind it. It makes you a bit dizzy to look at and you have to bend at the waist to get close enough to see the way your mascara has smudged all around your eyes.

And all of a sudden there’s a burning heat behind you. Sickly, feverish heat pressing straight into the pillows of your ass. Soap’s spidery reflection shows up just over your smile sporting a wicked grin. Teeth and eyes flashing.

You try and swat him away, all too used to his comings-on, but he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips bruisingly hard.

“C’mon, hen. Been driving me mad all night. Relax a bit. Jus’ need this. Need you. Please.”

He has to lay flat over your back to hiss in your ear. Teeth clenched like he really needs to put some effort behind his words to sound polite. Like a petulant child who’d just been reminded by their mother to practice manners.

You were practiced in batting back his advances, but for some reason his grit made you falter. His gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you in the mirror. The idea that something inside him was hitting a roaring boil that he couldn’t stop from flowing over made your brain go foggy. The opposite of sobering. His aberrant need was contagious and catching quick.

He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and dry, sweet wine and woods. Flirty and masculine and overwhelming. And he’s warm and strong behind you, even if he’s pushing his hard cock into you.

Who were you to deny him the pleasure of snapping his hips into your backside a few times? Letting his fingers impatiently tug at the button of your jeans and hastily tug them down with your underwear until they pooled around your ankles?

It didn’t help that the sound of him sending a glob of spit into his hand made you clench around nothing. A familiar warmth gathering between your thighs that made you shift a bit to chase the momentary relief even a touch of friction could provide.

He couldn’t even afford you the decency of pretending not to see. No. Instead he points a spotlight on you and insists you perform for him again. Nudging your legs apart and pressing his thigh flush against your core while purring the filthiest things in your ear.

“Ken I jus’ needed to wear you down, mm? Thought ‘bout this before we went out. Always did get sloppy when you drink. Jus’ needed a little push. That’s it -Jesus- cunt’s so wet. Gonna take good care of her.”

And the club is so packed full of drunken, dancing bodies that hardly anyone notices the way you two stumble out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Even though you’re still fumbling with the button of your jeans with shaking hands.

[maximura]

Rare footage of how NI-KI became my new bias

[murdockmeta]

thinking about moon knight having marc call steven the best superpower he's ever had during a really emotional moment and how that show handled DID better than just about any piece of media I've ever seen and. I'm sobbing actually. they equated his neurodivergence with being the greatest part of him after marc had spent so long trying to hide his DID out of shame. and maybe that sounds like bordering on glorification but it really wasn't. because they made it so obvious that what marc meant was that steven kept him ALIVE and that's the most he could ever ask for and anyway. whatever whatever it's fine

[dreadark]

thinking about kim namwoon again… but 1863

in that round, he’s introduced wearing han sooyoung’s white coat (making kim dokja think he’s the leader for like half a second, which is hilarious. could you imagine)

it’s… cute?? he looks up to her so much that he tries mimicking her

I wonder if kim namwoon in the other rounds would steal yoo joonghyuk’s black coat the same way (rather... would yoo joonghyuk let him...)

and, well, dressing up in someone else’s clothes…

…you know

on that note, kim dokja’s advice to kim namwoon in 1863 is to just act more like yoo joonghyuk

the only way he can be liked is by becoming someone other than himself, huh

[lisutarid-a]

[observethewalrus]

PLEASE DO NOT GIFT ME BADGES

Tumblr is getting rid of avatars and no longer showing where a reblog comes from in post headers to “afford more room for badges.”

I always felt kinda bad when I was gifted badges and then didn’t use them, cuz people spent actual money on them. So I’m asking, please do not gift me badges, or any other tumblr merch for that matter.

I threw them a bone last year and paid for the ad-free because the ads and blazed softcore porn on the app were infuriating, but I’m canceling it. They’re not getting anything from me anymore. I’ll have to switch back to using the Firefox mobile browser. Hopefully the new dash un-fuckers that are going around will work on mobile.

[zannolin]

waking up with a headache should be illegal

[autumngracy]

Not me creeping up to the wordcount of the fourth longest book ever written

[heldenherzchen]

i see you there; don't know where you come from. unaware the stare from someone - don't appear to care that i saw you. turn around & you're walking toward me. i'm breaking down & you're breathing slowly. we're coming close & then even closer. we bring it in - but we go no further. we're separate: two ghosts in one mirror - no nearer. you're coming to, but you're slow in waking. you start to shake, you still haven't spoken; what happened? they're coming back & you just dont know when. you want to cry but there's nothing coming. they're gonna push until you give in or say when. it all began with the man and country. every plan turns another century around again; another nation has fallen. maybe god can be on both sides of the gun; never understood why. some of us never get it so good, so good. some of this was here before us - all of this will go after us. it never stops until we give in. — "say when" (the fray)

[what-even-is-thiss]

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