#lemon curse

[thesorceresstemple]

[parallelpie]

First off this absolutely cursed AU was inspired by Lemonomelette and a post they made -X Secondly I imagine it all being about bots and cons trying to one up each others factions and not actually helping in any serious way because their too busy with their own faction bs.

Think of two rival car dealerships across the street one upping each other to get business and instead of business with cars its interstellar robot fairys trying to woo sm children to let them grant their inconsequential wishes (which may or may not be worth it) instead of the other guy next door.

[really-fucked-up-stimboards]

TWO TRUCKS STIM WITH CAR GIFS BECAUSE GOD IS DEAD AND I FUCKING KILLED HIM

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[sweetybaty]

Strawberry Lemonade🍓 🍋 I'll maybe add this to the fic :) in the two paragraphs I talk about it JASHJSAHJSA who knows

[ltsmoving]

mm, a max with some assorted doodles because i'm ungodly ill atm.

[nadsdraws]

My nsfw piece for stizzy zine for @sweveris 's fic the cost of silk [E]

See the full picture on my AO3 !

[thelemonsnek]

theyre brothers which means theyre legally allowed and encouraged to harass and make fun of each other for ever and ever

killed a joltik / masks / tattoo / standwich

[image id: a sketchpage featuring Ingo and Emmet as several textpost screenshots. In the first drawing, Ingo says, "killed a joltik n now I feel bad" staring at his hands in distress. Cheerfully, Emmet offers, "give birth to a joltik to make up for it". Ingo stares at Emmet in disgust. Emmet, now drawn with noticeably lower quality, asks in shock "why did i say that." The next drawing is an edit of a tweet, which reads, "This mask always makes me laugh. i don't like to look at the other one.." Below is a drawing of Emmet with a hand on Ingo's shoulder, pulling him closer as he smiles mischievously. Ingo's face is blurred out. Below this is a drawing of Emmet saying thoughtfully, "My friend got a tattoo on his arm that says 'comparison is the thief of joy' and I'm really debating getting the same tattoo on my arm but a little bit bigger." The final drawing is a screenshot of a text conversation. Ingo and Emmet are drawn to each side to indicate who is sending what.

Emmet: Ingo can you make me a standwich?

Ingo: sure :)

Emmet: *sandwich

Ingo: too late

Emmet: wdym

Ingo: [a photo of two slices of bread tediously stacked on their sides, with sandwich toppings balanced in the middle]

Emmet: im leaving you

In the drawing, Emmet is fuming. Ingo looks very smug. Scattered around these doodles are several drawings of joltiks, one of eelektross, and one of archeops. End id]

The unblurred drawing from the tweet :)

[image id: an unblurred drawing of the tweet. Emmet has a hand on Ingo's shoulder, pulling him closer as he smiles mischievously, and Ingo can now be seen to be laughing at his brother's antics. End id]

[lemondemonpickuplines]

she's Weird on my One until i Tip

[thesilliestt]

do u guys fw my music taste 🙏🙏

plz be my friend if u have similar music taste !1!!! /nf

[salty-lemonss]

And the universe said you are not alone

Rb's appreciated

[paper-starz]

🦊 I'll be so real with u I get so nervous every SINGLE TIME. It's not a u thing I'm just nervous with everything :')

(I am so intimidating heck yeah. Look at how intimidating I am >:)

[sprintingficcommentator]

Me and my infuriatingly microscopic-sized attention span

[keeb0y]

New Playlist!

PARANORMAL PURSUIT PLAYLIST!!

Devil Town -Cavetown

Freaks -Surf Curse

New Flesh -Current Joys

Jealous -Eyedress

Eighth Wonder -Lemon Demon

YKWIM? -Yot Club

Soft Fuzzy Man -Lemon Demon

505 -Arctic Monkeys

Ghostbusters -Ray Parker Jr.

Deceptacon -Le Tigre

Bang Bang Bang Bang -Sohodolls

Little Dark Age -MGMT

Hayloft -Mother Mother

Touch-Tone Telephone -Lemon Demon

Sex with a Ghost -Teddy Hyde

Knife Fight -Lemon Demon

Hey Kids -Molina

The Perfect Girl -Mareux

Die Anywhere Else (From "Night In The Woods") -Julia Henderson

Swimming Pool -Marie Madeleine

We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives -Los Campesinos

Notes: This playlist is 1 hour and 14 minutes long.

Requested By: AnonyJerboa

Next Playlist: None (Feel free to request!)

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Author's note: This lemon-drenched snippet is not for minors nor the good of taste. It's cursed. This is your first warning. The second is the "Read more" cut. After that, you are on your own and any bad decisions are your own <3 Check the tags for more info. Enjoy~

It’s just his luck.

He’d been separated from Ron, Hermione, and Dobby just as the house elf’s magic transported them away from Malfoy Manor, leaving Harry there. Alone. Surrounded by Death Eaters. Well, Bellatrix and three less-than-enthusiastic Malfoys, but the odds still weren’t in Harry’s favour.

So he’d used Malfoy’s wand to blow up a wall with a well-placed bombarda and ran the fuck away in the ensuing chaos. His ears are still ringing from Bellatrix’s demented screeching. 

And he has yet to be found – his scar feels like hot oil is being poured into it with how irate Voldemort is with the incompetence of his followers because of this fact. The issue is that Harry couldn’t give anyone directions to find him, either. Malfoy Manor may as well be a labyrinth with all the twisting, circuitous paths and hallways and nooks (and even some crannies). He is thoroughly lost.

He’s made his way to a three-storey attached greenhouse, filled with plants large and small. Most are magical, but some he recognises from his many, many hours weeding and tending to Aunt Petunia’s garden. He’s not sure who would be more disgusted to have shared tastes – his aunt or Narcissa Malfoy. 

With the far wall being entirely glass, Harry is almost certain he can get outside from here. There has to be a door. And… well, if there isn’t, he’s not going to be shy about breaking some windows, if that’s what needs to be done.

He finds a patch of glass panels that have no plants nearby and thinks he’s on to something. Carefully checking for hinges or handles or any other sign that he could open them, Harry’s attention is fully on the glass.

This proves to be a mistake.

He has the barest hint of what’s to come when he feels a curiously fleshy press against his ankle, and then he’s being dragged on his stomach away from the greenhouse wall and into a dark, leafy mass that blots out the scant moonlight.

And he recognises the shape of these leaves. After their adventure at the end of first year, he’d made sure to remember this plant in case he ever ran into it again. This Devil’s Snare is a bit more proactive than the others he’s seen, though. They’re typically opportunistic and wait for victims to come to them – he doesn’t remember them pursuing prey.

He very slowly and gently extracts his stolen wand from his sleeve and casts lumos. But instead of shrinking away from the light – like the bloody thing should – the plant somehow produces an ear-splitting shriek and seizes his wrist with a vine, squeezing until he drops his wand and using another vine to bat it away, spinning into an unseen corner.

And now he’s pissed the plant off. Unarmed and still in the grip of a vine, Harry feels the adrenaline kick in. He slows his breathing and tries to stay calm, as struggling will only make things worse, but it is difficult. He wants to get as far away from this weird Devil’s Snare as quickly as he can – he feels the hair on the back of his neck standing up – but he’s not sure how to manage that.

He feels a rough, vegetal limb slip under his shirt, making him panic and twitch, and that seems to be the sign the plant was waiting for. The vine around his wrist pulls taut, drawing his arm out and pinning it in place as more vines wind around his legs and drag them straight, while others twist around his torso, trapping his left arm to his side. He feels very much like a favoured toy being fought over, tugged in all directions and unable to escape or even move.

The vine under his shirt begins prodding at his belly, making him squirm and causing the vines to squeeze tighter until he shouts in pain, at which they loosen slightly. Then, he feels more and more tentative touches along his legs, his chest, his hair, and his face – everywhere they can reach. 

They poke around his mouth, and he keeps it firmly shut until the vines around his ankles clench tightly enough to force another pained cry out of him. An inquisitive tendril sneaks inside his open mouth. He bites through it immediately, spitting the end out with savage glee. With another high-pitched noise, the plant wraps a vine around his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until he’s certain he will pass out, black edging his vision and lungs on fire with lack of air.

When it lets up, he coughs and hacks until his body remembers how to breathe, and he pants in as much air as he can. Several thin vines take advantage of this, slipping into his mouth to trace his teeth and tongue, press against his cheeks and palate. He switches to breathing through his nose and threatens to bite the vines again, but there are enough that he can’t close his mouth tightly enough to shear through them.

He’s lost track of what’s happening to the rest of him, but the other vines have been busy in his inattention. And damn the Dursleys and their hand-me-downs from Dudley, and damn Harry for not buying better-fitting clothes, because there’s plenty of room for those vines to wriggle under his jumper and trousers. He squawks through a mouthful of vines when a couple caress a little too closely to his delicate bits for comfort. Thankfully they continue past that part of him, though the sensation of them rubbing against his bare thighs isn’t much better.

“Well, well, Harry Potter,” a familiar voice says from somewhere. “We’re finally together again and you’d rather entertain the flora.” 

Harry has never been happier to see– er, hear Voldemort. He’d rather take his chances with the bigoted megalomaniac than the amorous plant weaving tighter around him.

Except Voldemort doesn’t do anything – doesn’t even say anything else. When a vine sneaks down the back of Harry’s trousers and starts prodding at a place it really shouldn’t be prodding, Harry’s had enough.

He fights his way up far enough to glare at Voldemort, silently demanding why he’s not killing him or cutting him out of this lusty Devil’s Snare to monologue at him before killing him. The bastard plant takes exception to this, attempting to pull him back down and pressing more insistently against his arse. Harry grunts in alarm, squirming away as much as he can when the vine simply follows him to push harder into him. He squeaks, and if his face looks more pleading than he’d like, he’s willing to cut himself some slack.

Maintaining eye contact, Voldemort conjures a wingback chair and sits down in it a few feet away, facing Harry.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he drawls, leaning back and getting comfortable. “I’m in no hurry.”

Harry groans in distress as the plant's many limbs continue to move against and in him.

(Part two, where the Harrymort happens)

[l3m-ntwo]

I hate thinking about qBad character design ideas because how the heck am I supposed to give him a mouth on the stomach AND make his lower body melt/decay from the radiation, showing his ribs, guts and stuff.

[eatpotatobepotato]

I've become so obsessed with A New Wish.

I've already binged the whole season, read all the fanfictions, and saw all the fanart.

And yet I crave more.