#its easier than making a new tag

[wall-e-gorl]

my comms are open again!!

As usual, I do dnd characters mainly but I can draw what ever guy you would like. I also will make 5 emojis (for use in discord) based on your character(s) for $50, more for $10 each up to 10 emojis total at a time!

I also have a couple stickers in my shop! Two critical role ones, and one brand new one that anyone can enjoy ;)

Everything is over on my ko-fi (which is where the links lead to-) and I also use it as a place to show art, so you can look at my gallery for past comms and emoji examples and all the kind of stuff I tend to draw in my freetime!

[b4kuch1n]

fuck it sk8 sketches from da sketchbook. get sk8ed idiot

[nomairuins]

like i wouldnt mind like. Not having new linear games post 5 its judt that sims 4 wasnt even supposed to Be The Sims 4 it was a last minute pivot and the base code is so outdated and was broken On launch so like. i just wish we could have the final actual sims game be like. one that was always intented to be a major sims release AND be intended to be so long term . yk

[poems-of-a-lover]

god i need straight ppl to be fuckin normal abt gay intimacy like right now

[jusiri]

every so often i see people complain about how 'their app auto updated and they dont like the new version and they wish they had the old one back' and like i dont get it because you can?

do yall not know you can downgrade apps??

you just need the APK, its the exact same way app stores install apps except youre doing it manually

you aren't always stuck with an update you hate, you can just go back (with exceptions for the apps that force you to have the latest version in order to use them 😒😒)

like you can even go back to the really old tumblr app, i tried it once

theres a few versions with bugs that crash the app upon opening but going up like .001 or whatever usually works

the old app doesn't even have ads, they just dont work, nor does it have tumblr live

polls dont work of course, and it doesnt have the new version of the notes, where reblogs and comments are separate, but if you don't care about that its still there

its still functional

you don't have to use a version you hate

turn auto update off, and manually install apps, and you have so much more open to you

you can even install apps that used to work on your devices that the app store says arent supported anymore

9/10 times that app still works they just removed it for some reason

theres a thousand and one websites that collect the old APKs for you to download them from, its the same concept as pirating

its not some thing you usually have to go in and mess with the code, its built in to a lot of devices for you to be able to do it

my tablet literally has a file section built in to sort installable files in

You can go back!

You don't have to use it!

Reverse that thing, go back, its there, you have choices!!

[omarwolaeth]

It's such a tiny innocuous thing that really doesn't matter, but I feel like calling duel monsters a children's card game (when it's fundamentally baked into everyday life, and your social existence is judged by what you play and how you play it so very intensely, for everyone in-universe) is an absolute injustice to what it is for that universe of people.

[toadcircus]

currently feeling a strange sense of belonging and calm that i havn't felt in a while. i havn't missed it as a feeling, i just havn't noticed it missing until i felt it again.

just moved 99% of my things back into my parents house where i will be staying for a little while. i've already been here for a few months. i wonder if its the moving the things back that has brought this on?

i think i just feel safe i guess. cosy

[waywardsalt]

tbh all things considered im at least glad that my discomfort with totk is what really drove me to really discover a lot of the discussion and analysis into the racism and orientalist stuff and... all of that in the zelda series, since i was halfway aware of it in the past but only more recently started to really look into it further and see what others have to say about it

[im-smart-i-swear]

Does Jiro has ghost like abilities (possession, ability to levitate things, etc etc) or does she just live in Shiro's head?

when i created this au, i thought the best option would be for her to be unable to interact with the physical world in any way(including possesion), beacuse i really wanted to lean into her isolation and how it affects her....... and while thats something i still want to emphasise here, lately ive been toying with the idea of jiro being able to impact the physical world somehow(though it still being fairly limited). i think letting her have some control could have a lot of potential! buuuut i also have no idea what abilities i want her to have lol

For now i think im not gonna give her any telekinetic abilities, bc i feel like it would be giving her too much power......... if she could throw shit, shed go APESHIT with it. it would made things too easy for her. i'm sorry babygirl but i'm NOT giving you the possibilty to throw knives and other sharp objects, i dont trust you to not kill someone:/

i really like the idea of her being able to temporarily posses her old body in certain circumstances tho- maybe when shiros uncouncious?? or like when hes is very tired or heavily injured she can kind of 'squeeze through' and take control back for a few minutes???? idk. i think this could be a very cool ability to give her- it cant be frequently used but can also be very helpful, and also theres so much potential for ✨shenanigans✨here>:) oh god i could put these fuckers in so many Situations with this..........

uhhh. so basically i think all of her influence on the physical world are through shiro. shes here bc of her connection to her old body, and thus its the only way for her to interact with anyone besides him- and shes NOT HAPPY about this(neither is shiro).

[monsterbisexual]

bleh x__x

[sunsrefuge]

[toastsnaffler]

ohhhhh my god girl i don't careeeee

[feedthefandomfest]

Comment Bingo: Old Fic Edition

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Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

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Happy commenting!!

[pearlzier]

────⠀ soldier boy has a glasses kink WHO said that

warnings / SMUT ! MDNI. soldier boy. bro hes a warning just, as himself. glasses kink ???. oral(m!recieving). uhhh kinda filthy i gotta say. he cums on reader's glasses + face. dirty talker. degradation? he says whore once. first time writing ben uhhh let me know if u guys like it <3 and if u wanna be on the tag list for uhhh the boys or jensen stuff idek

thank u @theosaurous for gracing our earth with this beautiful hc all creds 4 this thing to them <3 (its been almost a month HELP)

it's humiliating. completely degrading and demeaning and you're lapping it all up even then. the way he holds you so gently but lets the meanest things fall from his lips, his words gruff and gravelly, it makes your head spin. your skin feels hot, your knees digging into the shitty motel rug beneath you as he keeps you on your knees below him. your chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, eyes darting up to him frantically from where you're kneeling. "look at you," he grunts.

the entire reasoning for your position beneath him and status of being gagged by his cock? those glasses of yours. usually you wore contacts, since they were easier for your line of work and simpler to handle everyday. ben had never seen you without contacts before, wearing glasses. he'd be a damn liar if he tried to say that it didn't turn him on so bad to see you with those lenses over your eyes and nose bridge adorned.

"teasing me with those fucking glasses, huh? shoulda' worn 'em earlier, maybe wouldn't have ended up on your knees like a whore for me, huh?" he pats the head of his cock against your lips, grasping the back of your head tightly to push himself between your lips once more. a guttural groan escapes him and he swallows thickly, a low chuckle escaping him too.

"that's it, take that fucking dick. that's it, fuck." the look of your glasses slipping down your nose, too low to actually help you see however perfect for ben to get off on.

you're practically drooling on him, lips stretched around him with every inch he pushes further down your throat. the whimper you let out by the time he's near bottoming out makes him groan, and his grip on the back of your head tightens instinctively. "ben—"

"shh, sh, don't wanna hear a word out of your mouth," his tone is practically a snarl but still soft enough to coax you into listening to him. "just wanna look at you, those glasses, shit," he didn't know he was into glasses, to be honest with you. ben was into everything about you, but this? this new development? yeah, he'd take advantage of it for a long ass time.

"look so good takin' my cock," he muses, thumb stroking over your cheek. it brushes over your lips, soon smearing your saliva over them with another low chuckle. he likes leaving you a mess, not just likes, he loves leaving you a mess like this. "that pretty mouth's great for fillin', ain't it? always chattin' shit, just gotta stuff it full of me." ben knows he can get away with it since your mouth's a little preoccupied with sucking him off.

all you can do, really, is look up at him with wide, watery eyes. your jaw lax with the intrusion of him between your lips, hands grasping loosely at his legs as best as you can to make sure you don't end up falling over.

"a little deeper," growling, he grasps at the back of your head once more and tugs you further along his dick. the gagging sound has him groaning, hips rutting up against your face instinctively afterwards. "suckin' the fuckin' life outta' me," despite how rough he is in practically fucking your face, he's soft, in a way.

this is ben, he isn't exactly all sunshine and rainbows, but he's always in awe of how well you do for him—every single time. and he makes you feel perfect afterwards, he'd rather die than leave you unfulfilled.

"doing so good," he tells you, voice breathy, low with his arousal and how worked up he's getting right now. he swallows thickly, glancing down at you, "feel so fucking good, that mouth, shit.."

"mmh?" you mumble around him, eyes lifting back up to his again as your breathing picks up a little. every little bit of encouragement from him meant a lot, because you knew he meant it. he really does.

"yeah, yeah.." ben's head falls back with a groan, his hips picking up pace and thrusting into your mouth a little more rhythmically now. you can feel he's getting closer now, from how his grip on your head tightens and his sounds become more and more frequent. "you're gonna make me—fuck, fuck, come off for me, there we go, fuckin' warm mouth, nice and warm for me. made for me, huh? say it, wanna hear you fuckin' say it."

ben's hand quickly wraps around his cock, his grip tight as he starts pumping it quickly, thumb brushing against his slit occasionally—only tensing his thighs even more. "made for you," you mumble instinctively, batting your eyelashes as you adjust to the loss of him in your mouth.

"what's made for me? huh? c'mon," ben pats your cheek with his free hand, his other still moving up and down himself in quickening paces. his brows raise, gaze turning expectant as he looks down at you.

"my mouth," you tell him, tone a little whiny. he's smirking, that stupidly attractive smirk, as he hears that. "my mouth was made for you," and he really believes it too, 'cause you take him so damn well every single time.

"that's it, you learn so well, hm?" ben coos, condescension in his tone as he speaks. it's all loving, really, but he's not exactly thinking much with his heart here as much as he's thinking with his dick. especially right now, as the pressure tightens in his abdomen, the movements of his hand growing less controlled and more jerky. "you ready for me, baby? for me to come all over that face? those glasses? god, those glasses. c'mon, tongue out. there we go, that's it.. there's that mouth i love, huh?"

he's practically babbling right now, his eyes squeezing shut. your tongue stuck out for him, waiting and ready, has him pumping his hand faster till his thighs start trembling, thick white ropes of cum spurting from his throbbing, aching tip landing in globs on your glasses, cheeks, tongue. you look so good like that, and he tells you, "that's a pretty picture, ain't it? might take a photo of that, mmh?" his head tilts to the side a little bit. the whine you let out in response makes him laugh, the corners of his lips tugging upwards at the corners.

"open your eyes," ben coaxes, thumb brushing against your cheek and pushing a little bit so your eyes open. he hums, "there you are," he lets out a gruff laugh, "can't see, can you?" you shake your head in response, swallowing thickly. your gaze is all blurry, without the glasses, not able to see properly. "glasses all messy? let's take 'em off," he eases your glasses off your face, inspecting them all messy with his cum before he looks back at you.

"that's alright," he tells you, placing the glasses down onto the bedside cupboard, before he gets your attention again. "only thing you gotta see is me. just me."

[aroaceofthesea]

Im sorry but when i hear someone play the trumpet i remember why its the best instrument and its not bc i play it

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.  

word count: 2,764 

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later 

chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread

Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible. 

When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose. 

Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King. 

You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King. 

“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news. 

You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”

Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”

He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”

“I shall not marry the King—”

Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”

“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”

She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”

“You cannot distract me with fashion.”

“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”

Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought. 

A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”

“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”

“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”

Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”

Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”

Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”

“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”

Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”

You laughed. “He’s told you this?”

“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”

Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”

You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”

Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”

Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”

“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”

Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”

Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you. 

Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”

Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”

“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor. 

He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”

“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”

“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”

“Such a kind and gentle king.”

“Only for those who deserve it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”

To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else. 

The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong. 

“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”

This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”

Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”

“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”

His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”

The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem. 

“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”

You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”

Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that. 

“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”

“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”

“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”

Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”

A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words? 

Unless…

You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said. 

You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”

A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”

Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”

Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”

Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”

He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”