#like writing practice LOL

[ennaku-sirri-da]

You know I hope it doesn't like

Come off as disgenuine how I compliment people a lot

Cuz like. I MEAN it. And I don't think I'm qualified to give criticism unless you specifically ask, so I try to focus on the positive like I say

I dunno man artists specifically are starving on this site. I wish more people reblogged with comments, even just one. I'm an artist too.

[damian-lil-babybat]

'Dead Poets Society' gang

Headcanon that these four drop poetry and literature quotes on their conversations unprompted.

Jason 'English-major-I-only-visit-the-manor-for-the-library' Todd-Wayne

Damian 'I-master-liberal-arts-unlike-you-plebs-PHD-holder' al Ghul-Wayne

Cassandra 'I-learn-English-thru-Shakespeare-as-god-intended' Cain-Wayne

Duke 'only-title-holder-of-vigilante-poet-and-will-cuss-you-just-as-poetically' Thomas-(future) Wayne

[monkeychief1904]

Deadpool and Wolverine end up as roommates at the end of the movie right? So now I need to see a sit-com style show about them being roommates and superhero partners. It would be so freaking funny.

[mintypsii]

guys i love them i promise i just have the urge to put them through the grinder sometimes

umm on the bright side here's the alternate good ending version lol!!!!!

[hyewka]

dude sub!beomgyu is so hot. but you know what's hotter? bratty, possessive sub!gyu. maybe i'm biased cuz i like my men like that but likeeeee

wanna overstimulate him so bad until he's crying and whining for more 😵‍💫😵‍💫 n he probably acts like a bitch at the start, acting all confident and dominant.. yet the second you start fucking him he just folds :(

literally pushing my obsessive sub gyu agenda on everyone but he'd probably fuck you after seeing you getting all close with someone else as a way to show dominance 😵‍💫 gyu seems like the type who'd overstim himself inside of you too, moaning shit like "you're mine" as he chokes on his sobs.. might as well flip him over and let him know he belongs to you only :))

anyways i'm kinda hungry 😍

warnings; sub!yandere-ish beomgyu, cockwarming, mentions of overstim? hair pulling, reader’s equally obsessive sorta, not proofread

-

You twist your sore wrist, trying to relieve the pain Beomgyu you think, or at least hope, had unintentionally inflicted. But with the way he's been increasingly needy the more time you had spent shopping, the more you're sure it was far from an accident.

So it was no surprise how fast he got you on the bed when you finally went back home.

“You’re so mean to me.” he mutters in the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin. Beomgyu has you pinned under him, his hold unforgiving, pressing down on your body. “You do it on purpose. Make me so fucking crazy, I hate it.”

You flutter your eyes shut when his lips make contact with your sensitive flesh, the slight nip making you breathe heavier. “Beomgyu.” you try warning, to stop him from going further, but it only spurs him on.

Earlier, you stumbled upon Jeongin-- your old highschool friend, while window shopping with Beomgyu by your side. Naturally, you'd want to catch up as you haven't seen him since the last highschool reunion which was two years ago. The longer you spent enthusiastically talking, the more you felt Beomgyu's fingertip dig into your wrist.

You figured he was jealous, and when Beomgyu was jealous, he was different in the sense that he needed reassurance. A lot of it.

When he starts sucking harshly, marking all over your neck down to your collarbones, hips increasingly grinding against your clothed core, his grunts ceasing to be an act slipping his neediness against your skin, you run up your hand to the back of his head grabbing a fistful— you were always fine with his desperation to give you hickeys whenever he felt insecure, laying pliant and letting him cover you with varying purple splotches but the drawn line was always him fucking you.

And that was exactly what he was trying to do, whore.

You yank his head back and the horny dog has no shame letting the blush creep up his cheeks even when he hisses out a curse. “Who gave you the right to grind against me?”

“What? I can’t try to fuck my girlfriend but you can go around whoring with—"

He shrieks when you pull his hair again, his scalp burning, tears already brimming on his waterline. “You have such a filthy mouth pup, I ought to put it to better use, no?”

His eyes still have the audacity to look down at you. You sneer, a soft scoff escaping your lips. Beomgyu has always been one to try and dom during sex, which you wouldn’t mind if it weren’t for the fact that you knew the poor boy was weak after a single twist to his bud.

After a few beats of silence, you decide to pull him down for a quick kiss, a mix of saliva and tongue, before you abruptly stop reciprocating and Beomgyus left whimpering against your lips urging you to continue. You put your hand on his chest, getting him to reluctantly pull away. “No. You have to fix your attitude first.”

He shakes his head, “You’re the one whos been talking about Jungwoon or whatever his name is—"

“Jeongin.”

“I don’t care! You couldn’t shut up about him the entire way here! I hate it. It feels like he could sweep you off your feet when I’m not paying attention and then—and then you’ll…” his assertive demeanor cracks in a flash, his face flushed, lower lip quivering up into a pout, “You’ll leave me and, and—“

You don’t let him finish, flicking his forehead to which his hand immediately fly up to rub as if you just smacked it. “Ouch? What was that for?”

“You’re such a dumb boy.” You say shaking your head. “I mentioned Jeongin once. Once during our way here because you seemed so bothered by how we knew each other.”

You weren’t lying, proven by the way Beomgyu tries to counter your point, but closes his mouth after nothing comes out. A sly smile, and your hands already sneakily sliding up his loose hoodie, thumb finding their way to graze his already hard nipples, “Baby boy got stupid jealous just because I talked to a guy, huh?”

His arms that were holding him up, pinned next to both sides of your body had started to tremble. So fast, it was almost comical.

“Shut up. He wasn’t just some guy. He was totally into you.”

You rub his bud in circles, cooing at how his hair falls over his face, as he tries to gain composure. “Really? You thought he was checking me out too?” you tease, making sure to catch him off guard with a random pinch.

His body jerks, a strained exhale leaving his lips before hes too weak to keep himself up anymore, head falling to bury itself in the crook of your neck, getting you to feel his bulge against your thigh. He was already giving up.

“Stooop.” he whines, continuing to rub his crotch on your inner thigh. “You’re so mean to me.”

You decide to give it up, instead twirling a strand of his soft hair as he gets more and more feverish against your leg. “N-no more teasing. Have to be inside you.” he finally breathes out, a call of desperation, so needy Beomgyu was.

Beomgyu who’s too impatient to fully take off your skirt, only pulling them up before he bunches up your panties to the side, his tip barely protruding your entrance before he pushes in his red dick in, so inexperienced and stupid, shuddering as he keeps his cock buried.

“You have to move pup.” you instruct lightly, trying to fuck yourself on his dick, but it proves impossible as Beomgyu shakes his head adamantly.

His breathing is heavy, dumb mind already filled with esctasy, head finding comfort in the warmth of your shoulder, cock drilled so deep inside he might go insane with your warmth, “Wanna stay in here forever."

“And ever.” he sighs, sucking on your abused hickeys again. “So you’ll never leave.”

It should’ve been concerning, a red flag to look back on but what happens if you feel the same way? Having him only be by your side.

Beomgyu who finally starts moving, ever so slightly, moaning with each small sharp snap into you. It takes you by complete shock when his pace goes a complete 180, Beomgyu becoming crazed, his thrusts quickly becoming sharp and erratic, so similar to his humping earlier with no particular rhythm, hammering into you, each love proclamation as tears waste no time to stain his cheeks, body shuddering with his head feeling light, drool trickling down under his chin, “Mine, mine, mine. Jeongin can’t have you like this. You’re mine.”

His body presses against yours, leaving no room for breathing, kissing you so roughly, yet his soft lips are a contrast, “I only belong to you. Nobody else—ha!”

His hips stagger, lanky body once looming over you so weak and frail. “N-no! Am cumming, cumming—“ he babbles so loudly, the sight so beautiful, his lashes more pronounced with the wetness of his tears. He belongs to you, he’s right. Just pressing against where his nipples are gets him to cum prematurely. You smirk feeling smug, even when simply the sound of his cute moans has you weak. You feel his hot load shoot inside you, bad boy.

He tries to catch his breath, clearly dumb fucked, chest heaving, as he falls to your side on the bed. You don’t let the boy get away so easily after not even making sure you finished.

The terrified look in his eyes as you swiftly get on top of him, switching positions was enough for you to know that this was going to be a long fucking night.

[milksuu]

𓆩🖤𓆪 Screw Your Bike! 𓆩🖤𓆪

❥ prompt: You hated to admit it but, you were jealous of a damn motorcycle. How was it possible to feel second place to a vrooming object with two-wheels? What did it have that you didn't? A leather seat and a holo-graphic chrome wrap, really? Well, if Kayn wanted to take a ride, he'd have to go through you. Literally and figuratively. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!kayn, dirty talk, bratty behavior, profanity ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!kayn x f!reader

You were going to be in so much trouble. Good. That's where you wanted to be. After being blown off recently, you weren't trying to be nice. If Kayn wanted to keep having fun with his new toy, then he'd have to go through you.

"Where the hell are my keys?" He growled out loud. Frustration igniting that irresistible scowl across his features. "I swear, if Ezreal thought It'd be funny to hide them, then it's going to be funnier when I murder him."

Oh. Poor Ezreal. You hated if he ever took the blame for your misdeed. But your secret wouldn't be kept for long. It was only a matter of time before you were found it. Which, you wanted to be. Very badly.

Kayn asked for your help in looking for the missing keys. You played your part well; sifting through cluttered drawers and couch cushions. After searching the house, it was time to search around the garage.

"Probably left it in the ignition or something," Kayn mumbled to himself, scanning the body of his motorcycle.

You stood a few feet away. Smiling. Watching him wrack his brain about where exactly were those damned keys. It was time to be found out. You bounced on your toes. Jingle Jingle.

That definitely caught someone's attention. Kayn looked up, narrowing his green eye against you. "Did you just...jingle?"

"I don't know. Did I?" You posed with fake innocence. You bounced again. Jingle Jingle. "Mm, maybe I did. I can't really tell. Would you mind finding out for me?”

Kayn’s look spat fire, but his smirk crossed with intrigue. He sauntered over with a sway, and sucked against his teeth. “Clever hiding spot. But kinda uninspiring, don’t you think?”

You merely shrugged. Allowing him to bask in whatever verbal triumph he wanted to display. You had to keep your cool. Especially when he plunged a hand between your cleavage. You held in a shudder. The rough of his knuckles brushed against your nipples during his careless search.

That all-too confident smirk faltered at the ends. But where his ended, your grin began. Nothing was there.

"You were right. That spot was uninspiring." You shook your lower half. Jingle Jingle. "Wonder where else they could be."

Kayn's jaw tightened. You saw the clench of teeth. He didn't liked to be fooled with. The fire that blazed just behind his eyes told you the punishment he wanted to reign. All according to plan.

"You're a damned brat." He said with a bite, tempting to snake a hand up your black mini-skirt.

He almost barked when you gripped his wrist, pinning his hand against your inner thigh. You narrowed your mascaraed lashes against him. "And you're an ass-head. Think I'd be happy with you blowing me off over your supped-up tricycle?"

Kayn glanced from his motorcycle back to you. So, this is what this was all about. You wanted to pick a fight with him over his new toy. Fine, have it your way—but it wasn't going to be the verbal kind. Words were all pointless, meaningless, a waste of time. Fucking things out always worked better.

Kayn slammed his mouth down on yours. You yelped, gripping his wrist tighter. You wouldn't relent, not so easily. When he sucked and nipped at your lower lip, you wrapped your free hand around his neck, grasping for some semblance of control.

Kayn groaned from the slight pressure and claimed your mouth fully. He returned that pressure by gripping tighter against your thigh fat. You were going to let his hand go. Unless you wanted bruises. He wasn't afraid to leave a mark or two on your body. Actually, he preferred it. A reminder of him anytime you undressed.

You whined a moan. The digging of his fingers sending shocks between your legs. You gasped for air, your strength siphoned.

Kayn breathed a shit-winning smirk into your ear. You bit your bottom lip. He thrusted his fingers inside your panty line. Sliding the keys out, the metal jostled and glided against your folds. Wet slicked and coated.

"You're going to pay for almost tarnishing the metal. I don't think you know exactly how much I'd have to cough up to replace them. Nothing you could afford with cash, anyway." Kayn's features darkened, licking the keys clean of your taste.

Oh God. He was such a dick. This is exactly what you wanted. "You're such an ass—"

You cried out when frim hands smacked against your back side, gripping the now tender flesh. Yanking you off your feet, Kayn practically tossed you onto his motorcycle. With your back pressed against the control panel, Kayn settled between your straddled legs. He was going to fuck on you his motorcycle to make a point? Before you could protest, Kayn possessed your lips with a snarl and bite. Goose-bumps rose when you heard the undoing of his jean button and the down slide of his zipper.

"I hope I ruin the leather on this stupid thing," you said, gripping his hot dick in your hand.

Kayn growled and shoved your mini-skirt up to your stomach, snapping your panties to the side. "Ruin it and you're going to be licking your mess off the seat, while I fuck you from behind."

Shit. That sounded so hot. "Screw your fucking bike," you said with a shudder. His fingers swiped against your pussy. Completely drenched for him.

"Don't tempt me with the idea." Kayn took himself from you in his hand, circling your clit with the head of his cock. Slicking it up and down. You writhed, legs shaking against his sides.

Kayn shifted his hips. With his glazed tip, he dragged the length of his cock through your entrance. Your throbbing folds parted, spreading around his shaft. Pushing up to your cervix, he dragged up and back, coating himself with your fluids.

Your hands snatched his shoulders, finding your nails leaving desperate trails for him to take you, over and over and over again. Pleading for him to never stop.

Kayn bent forward, gripping the motorcyle handles. He dipped his head, pressing his teeth against the helix of your ear. "Think you're more exciting than my bike? Then you better purr louder." Bastard!

Kayn slammed inside of you, delivering all of his frustration, hunger and revenge. Taking you like the demon that he inevitably was. You cried out, tightening your legs around him, holding him closer. As if he was your savior and not your actual reaper.

Fuck. You were so hot, tight, and wet. Your walls pulsed and squeezed, making him swell and throb. Kayn gritted his teeth. He almost let himself reach his threshold before you—he was never going to let you fucking win.

Kayn lapped a long tongue across your neck, before diving and sinking a pair of canines into your skin. An apparent mark of his victory. You whole body jolted with pleasure. Your pussy clamped down so hard around his shaft, for a moment, Kayn's vision went black.

You screamed his name. Bucked against him. Coming all around him. Kayn went with you, catching his vulgar groans in his throat as he filled up your insides.

You got exactly what you wanted. Kayne think's he's won, and that's fine. But you were the real winner. He rode you before the damn bike. You smiled to yourself. All according to plan.

[fishyartist]

Ui idea tests, thrown together bc im eepy. Was planning on doing more but I spent all my days energy on the second one oops

[quinn-pop]

let’s do some autistic meta knight headcanons!! over explaining my interpretation of meta knight yet again wooooo

this orb has NO idea how to talk to people!!! outside of work anyway. a lot of this is partially due to upbringing (suppressing his emotions all the time) but he does not know how to express emotions, like…at all.

this goes into a few things

1. yeah talking is hard. even after figuring out what he wants to communicate he will struggle. conversation can be so overwhelming, especially under pressure. he will need time lol

2. because of that, forming connections is hard. i really don’t think meta is much for shallow relationships, and certainly not early in the timeline. which also means he has very little experience with friendship. so a lot of the relationships he did have went kinda neglected, and issues that probably could’ve been worked on by talking became…*cough romk* escalated.

3. honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if meta convinced himself he couldn’t feel emotion (anymore) until like. katam-ish. he tried very hard lol

vulnerability is terrifying. (though this gesture here is also just comforting, like his little cape cocoon thing he does.)

unmasking—yeah im taking the mask thing very literally here—is a big deal and a very slow process for mk. i’m sure he has a lot of feelings on that lol. it served as a way to ensure no one could ever, y’know, see him.

i can’t say i think he’d ever fully ditch it—there’s always gonna be some days that are more stressful than others and if having it could help him get through it, it just makes sense. mainly when working.

it really is about vulnerability. granted, i don’t think he has the most expressive face (in my head every astral just tends to stare at things) but i doubt he has much control over it. can’t fake a smile but also can’t hide it. probably blushes easy because yeah, astrals; just look at kirby’s face.

just the idea that someone might be able to read his expression and know what he’s feeling before he’s ready for them to (or even understands it himself…) yeah he doesn’t want that

but emotional turmoil aside, i think his mask also hides a lot of his stims

remember that whole “suppressing your feelings” thing? yeah turns out that ignoring half your instincts isn’t a good idea. so in true meta knight style, he tries to stim as subtly as possible

1. he has the least control over his wings, so they will flick and twitch on their own. they’re usually a good indicator of how he’s feeling, not unlike the body language usually seen in cat ears and tails lol. flapping is also an extension of this of course, though he probably suppresses it more.

2. this also effects when he takes his wings out. pretty much every time he’s excited or nervous it just happens. kinda makes me wonder if his wing cape ordeal might also go into the suppression thing… (i’d say yes, but using a cape is also very comforting so it’s not necessarily a bad thing)

3. going back to the mask thing; he stims a lot underneath it. think like biting or pursing your lips. he bites his tongue and clicks his mouth. that sort of thing. his mask also makes it harder to notice that he is constantly sighing, humming, grumbling…all that

one nice thing about the mask though is that it helps a little bit with lights!!! woo

(look at him and his magically floating glasses)

sensory stuff—i think he’s mostly bothered by light and sound. maybe a bit of texture. he’s pretty sensory avoidant and perfectly happy standing off to the side not touching anything.

the one exception to this is physical affection, which is, despite all of this, most of how he shows affection. it’s a lot easier to hug someone than to try to explain your feelings for them, after all.

i think he would like pressure though. so that’s probably part of it. and i’m pretty sure there’s some connection in here to fighting (dang, is that the only way he knows how to get his energy out?)

anyway, pretty much all of this is in contrast to kirby, who i would gladly nominate as the champion of Doing Whatever He Wants. he might pick up a few bad habits, but he will never mask the way meta knight does. he might not understand how he feels, but he’s in tune enough to express it…usually.

this is a very good thing for meta because it helps him to do the same thing. kirby’s so energetic, it’s hard to not want to stim with him. it reminds meta to be kinder to himself and explore his own emotions. he can also help kirby understand themselves, so this connection is very important.

yeah, at the end of the day, everything kinda just boils down to kirby and mk as parallels

this is the conclusion i promise

to me, meta’s arc is about growing stronger by growing kinder, and this is mostly by learning to be kind to himself. letting himself be a person again, loving and understanding other people, and eventually, letting go of all the expectations placed on him and doing the things he’s always wanted to do…

autism headcanons are fun for me because it’s cathartic to write, but at the same time, it just makes sense in this sort of narrative. meta is, to me, inseparable from these things. and so is kirby! that’s a dynamic that’s a lot of fun to play with, and it’s at the heart of my kirby interpretation.

if you actually read all this WOW thank you

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[jtl07]

avatrice soulmate au

omg ant i hope this one actually is okay

it took Beatrice two steps down the stairwell to realize that she wasn't alone.

she takes these stairs everyday, arriving and leaving work, going to lunch as she is now - it's the principle of the thing, she'd explained to Camila, citing that their office was only on the 5th floor, besides, Beatrice wasn't one to pass up extra cardio especially after sitting in front of the computer working through feature specs and telling Crimson no, we will not be adding more custom dev hours to your most important tier 1 client who just happens to be owned by your cousin -

she hears it again: a sob.

it echoes through the stairwell, sad and lonely and broken. Beatrice doesn't know who it might be but the sound pulls at her nonetheless, a weight in her chest that gets heavier as she quietly gets closer.

then she sees her. Ava Silva, sitting on one of the steps, curled into herself, leaning heavily into the wall as she cries. Beatrice hasn't worked with her much - Beatrice tries to keep her interactions with Sales down to a minimum - but she knows of her. her smile, her laugh, her sometimes inappropriate jokes, the ease with which she brings joy into a room, that Beatrice has always felt when passing by her in the office. so to see Ava here, like this, is something of a shock.

Beatrice feels that tug again - knows she can't turn away and leave her alone.

she lets her next step fall heavy and the sound is enough to make Ava lift her head, scrub her face, hastily pull at her clothes. "oh - hey, Beatrice, off to lunch?"

Beatrice nods, hesitant. gestures to the space next Ava. "may I?"

"sure," Ava says, clearing her throat of tears.

Beatrice lowers herself down to sit as well, though she chooses one step behind Ava - enough to see most of her face, enough -hopefully- to give her space. it feels heavier here, though, like a storm attempting to swallow her whole. Beatrice isn't sure what to do in the face of such a feeling, sees it clearly even though Ava seems to be trying hard not to show it. but she has to do something.

she lets the heaviness fill her lungs, then thinks of freedom, thinks of air. speaks into the silence: "did you know this stairwell has access to the roof?"

Ava blinks, the tension in her body releasing at the unexpected question. "no," she answers, and Beatrice gets the pleasure of watching in realtime as the words register. "wait are you telling we could've been having rooftop parties all this time?"

Beatrice allows a smile. "not exactly. the engineers found out a couple months ago. they've been cleaning it up little by little." she glances at Ava. "it's better privacy than a stairwell."

the look Ava gives her is something curious, feels her gaze like a physical thing. Beatrice barely keeps herself from shivering.

"sounds like you're speaking from experience."

Beatrice lets out a soft snort through her nose. "you don't work in tech without at least one breakdown every quarter." Ava's laugh is soft but Beatrice still feels a bit of pride at the tendril of amusement peeking through dark clouds.

in her pocket, Beatrice feels her phone vibrate, a reminder of the limited time she has for her break. normally she rushes through it, but she wants the opposite now, wants to take her time, wants to know Ava more.

"well you can't tell from here," Beatrice says, glancing at the drab gray walls of the stairwell, "but it's a beautiful day outside. join me for lunch?"

Ava's surprise is palpable, burning even and Beatrice backpedals immediately. "only if you want, of course, i simply thought -"

"i'd love to." there's a curious, almost mischievous curve to Ava's smile now, something knowing that flusters Beatrice even more.

"right then," Beatrice mutters, standing up in hopes of controlling the sudden blush on her cheeks. still, she can't help the way her gaze stays on Ava, watches her stand - sees the moment she loses her balance.

Beatrice moves without thinking.

the next thing she knows, Ava's in her arms, heart beating wildly in her chest, eyes wide and Beatrice feels herself riding a rollercoaster of emotions: fear and relief and horny -

she pauses. carefully traces the last feeling to a source outside of herself.

Ava's grin is wider than Beatrice has ever seen it, knowing and joyous. "felt that, huh." Ava doesn't bother posing it as a question, likely already feeling the rush going through Beatrice herself.

"i suppose we'll be feeling each other a lot now." later, Beatrice will swear that she meant it innocently, in terms of the soulmate bond in general, but then she feels Ava's instant mischief, sees her grin turn wicked and she groans. maybe she should have taken the elevator after all...

[lucabyte]

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

UNTITLED EVIL LUIGI AU COMIC THING | Page 2 & 3 of (???)

Eggman Bowser’s come to make an announcement. Particularly to shut down any premonitions Mario may be holding onto a little too tightly. Bowser and Mario are able to set aside their differences (for now, at least) so that they can work together on a common goal-- figuring out where the hell Luigi is.

(A/N under cut)

---

believe me when i say i really wanted to link all the pages together in a neat, practical way so that everything would appear more organized than it actually is, but tumblr hates me and won’t let my posts show up in the tags if i include a hyperlink of any kind. :D

i read somewhere that tumblr only disallows posts from showing up in tags if it includes an external link (vs an internal/link to another tumblr page), which, in theory, shouldnt be an issue since the pages i’d be linking to are also on tumblr but regardless it’s not cooperating with me anyway. i’ve been on tumblr for what feels like a million years but this is the first time ive tried to make my posts cohesive like this so if anyone knows how to fix this issue im all ears 🙃 for the record, everything related to this au will be going into the following tags on my blog: #my art, and #evil luigi au. we’ll just have to sort things that way for now, i guess 😭

i start work tomorrow so can’t say when there will be a new page but i do have a lot planned out already. so hopefully i’ll be able to continue what ive started for at least a handful of more pages 🤠 next page will be fun to work on. for a bowuigi-centered story, where’s the luigi?! he’ll show up soon. just in the form of a flashback for now though 👀

also sorry if my handwriting is evil. it’s just personally easier/faster to write out everything by hand than type everything out but i may try to type the next page’s dialogue to see how it goes and to see if it makes things look ✨cleaner✨

(also also i spent so much time trying to figure out how to draw them doing a handshake for the “truce” panel. i ultimately failed. therefore.... fist bumps LMAO)

[like-the-rest-of-la]

Happy Little Accidents

The last thing Eddie Diaz expects to come out of his trip to Buckley’s Plant Nursery & Landscaping with his son, is to develop an honest to god schoolgirl crush on the guy who owns the place (and not notice that that is what’s happening for an embarrassingly long time).  

The plan is simple. Get in, have Christopher pick out a couple of succulents or whatever he needs for his school project, and get out without infesting any of the gorgeous plants in the shop with his bad plant karma. 

But then, the first thing he’s greeted with is a hunk of a man, carrying two heavy packs of soil on his broad shoulders. Eddie swears he can see a drop of sweat running down the man’s face in slow motion. His t-shirt looks like it’s one strategic muscle flex away from bursting at the seams and Eddie—Eddie feels nervous all of the sudden. And he’s gaping like a fish. 

“Hey,” Hunk-man says as he hoists the soil on the counter next to him with a grunt, “What can I help you with?”

At least Eddie has enough self-awareness to close his mouth.

Or: the one where Buck owns a plant nursery and Eddie stumbles through his crush (and has no game during all of it)—oh and also, there are a lot of Bob Ross references.

Read on Ao3

(With a banner by the wonderful @theladyyavilee thank you so so so much <3)

[optiwashere]

Huh, I didn't even realize it'd been a year since BG3 came out until I opened tumblr this morning. Kinda wild. I didn't think much of the game's release: I like Larian's games, and I like the BG series. I wasn't ever going to skip the game, but I didn't think I'd play it at launch because I was busy working on a novel in 2023 and not doing well financially.

Thankfully, circumstances left me with a little bit of extra money last year just before launch and it meant I could spend on a video game. I needed a pick-me-up after said 2023 novel failed to go anywhere, and BG3 was right there. Like most CRPGs, I played it in basically every moment of free time that I had and did as much as I possibly could in one playthrough.

It's so odd how these small happenstances can snowball into coming back to fandom, finding some friends I might've never met otherwise, and writing a lot of fanfiction along the way. I'll probably have something more interesting to say/share when it's the 14th, AKA when I sat down and wrote my first fic for this fandom.

Anyways, it's been a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to more years to come 💜

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

The Wolf and The Witch

Part 1/?

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood. He’d been warned from the time he was a child, back before the wolf, that it was home to its namesake. And not just any witch, a dangerous one. One that had killed an entire hunting party, unprompted, with the flick of a finger. None who have entered those woods since have ever returned.

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood, but he doesn’t have a choice. Robin is slumped over his back, hands clenched tightly in his fur, clinging desperately to consciousness. He can feel her blood, warm and sticky, matting the fur of his back. His own gait is slowed, every step jolting the silver teeth digging into his right hind leg and sending sharp pain shooting through him. He’s not sure how much longer he can run, and he can hear them - the bloodthirsty cries of the townsfolk dead set on his murder.

They had been found out. So many cycles of living in this town, living among its residents as a friend and neighbour, and still they’ve all turned on him. Of all the times for it to happen, too. It was the moon he had agreed to make Robin a wolf. She had already been weakened from the wolf taking hold when they had been attacked, the silver already a weakness but her body not yet given over to the strength of the wolf.

Steve wishes he could take her to Nancy, knows Nancy would help despite everything, but the townspeople have blocked them off, funneled him in his blind panic. His only hope is to lose them is the wood, but even then he might lose Robin to his own fumbling medical knowledge.

But first, he has to get away from their pursuers. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Steve enters the Witchwood.

————————————————————————

Eddie is no stranger to people trying to do him harm. It’s been a constant in his life from the time he was a child, long before his gifts had awakened. And one that had- well. It’s been a constant of his life, sure as the cycle of the moon and sun. So he notices the prickle of someone entering the woods, but he gives it no regard. It happens a few times a year, that someone gets it into their heads that they will be the one to kill “The Witch of the Woods”. None ever even make it to him, losing themselves in the enchanted trees.

These trees are older than him, and their magic is their own. They like him and welcome him among them, but otherwise are hostile to outsiders. In the beginning, he had tried to help those who became lost in the woods, but those days have long since passed. Despite what his uncle says about his soft heart, Eddie’s become bitter and jaded and he no longer pays any mind to those who venture into the woods.

But this time, something is different. Eddie feels the disturbance of someone crossing into the forest, feels the shift of magic as the forest warps around them, and it’s… different. The ways and paths of the trees are second nature to him, he can tell by the shimmer of magic against his skin which paths have been revealed and which hidden away and this…

The forest is being lenient, gentle. The interlopers are shown the ways to peaceful places, soft and danger-free. Eddie can recall only a few times that the forest has been kind to intruders, and it has almost exclusively been to children.

So he’s more than curious already when he feels the buzz of more people crossing the boundary into the woods. A lot more. And Eddie realizes that this hunt is not for him.

The trees are not so kind this time, opening its twists and turns like a maze, a trap for anyone foolish enough not to turn back immediately. They don’t, of course. They never do. Eddie pays them no mind, drawn instead by curiosity to the two that are being pursued.

He steps between the trees, slipping into a space that’s folded away between reality, picking his way with ease through paths that are there and paths that are not until he emerges at the edge of a small clearing, moonlit and mossy. Theres a tiny spring-fed pond and there, limping toward it, is a wolf. It’s huge, the size of a small bear, with a strong frame and thick russet fur.

It notices him at the same time as he notices it, and it’s massive head swings to face him, teeth already bared in a snarl. It’s hackles raise, and it turns fully, squaring up, a threatening growl rumbling across the little clearing to him.

Eddie steps back, already gathering his power until it glows around him with dark energy, because this is no normal wolf. Even without the size and the silver trap clamped around its leg giving it away, he can see it in its eyes, feel in its presence that this is something more.

He recalls his childhood, the warning tales at his mother’s knee. He remebers later, freshly chased out of town and taken in by his uncle, watching as the old man leafed through his ancient book and warned Eddie that he wasn’t the only dangerous thing in the wilds. Eddie has no doubt that he’s come across one of those dangerous things now. He looks at the wolf and knows exactly what he’s seeing.

A werewolf.

[wonderlandsakura]

Ok for some reason my brain is hyper focusing on Johnlock again like I won't regret it 2-3 business days from now when I come out of it with 5 new open AO3 tabs (out of my already 156 open AO3 tabs not counting other unfinished/unread fic/fic I've not caught up on, full disclosure) for fic that I probably won't finish reading and/or while being unable to find the. Very Specific. fic I want to read and just having like an open half-filtered tab... But Anyway.

Here's a Very Rare Johnlock Post from me lol

Imagine after all the seasons are over and Johnlock are old and have finally talked about their feelings and properly, actually, gotten officially together

(and subsequently gotten married in like 2 months cause Sherlock filled out the paperwork while John was not actually at home and then actually having a discussion about it when John finds out it happened cause Sherlock casually mentions it and actually agrees after Sherlock mentions (read: steamrolls over him, anxiously) them practically already being married by common law and just officialising it for the tax benefits... they only have a proper wedding, maybe on their/an anniversary when Mrs Hudson finds out probably 6 months later or sth and complains,, but I've gone on a tangent again)

Anyway Rosie is a teenager, with after-school activities and a phone.

I'm just imagining Sherlock dragging John out on a murder case (read: date) and deciding to feed him midway through (like always, tbh,, sth sth that post about feeding the depressed man that tends to forget to eat but I digress)

So Rosie gets a text and a voicemail from the two of them (cause Sherlock prefers to text and tell me John is not the sort to leave voicemails, like he would have put it on the voicemail machine if they had one he's so old man sometimes)

And it goes something like:

[Text from Papa]

Ragù Bolognese, Angelo's, 7pm. Hugs. -SH

[Voicemail from Dad]

"Hi honey, it's Dad.

Sorry we won't be able to make it to dinner with you, your father's got a case and you know how he gets...

Anyway, Mrs Hudson is going out tonight remember, so your Papa is booking the usual table at Angelo's for you... You still like the Spaghetti Bolognese right?

Don't worry about us, we'll eat before we get home. And the reservation is at 7, so don't be late. This will probably take a while so don't wait up either and go straight to bed young lady, you hear me?

Anyway I've got to go, loveyoubye."

Anyway I think it would be very cute, like they love and care about her, even if they're old men who laugh at crime scenes and whose ideal date is trying to catch a murderer together, and they show it by taking a moment to make sure she's fed with her favorite food even when they're busy solving crime, so yeah.