#ooo i love it

[thetruecthulhu9]

Hey anyone want to be crushed by the reality that in stopping the unknowing Jon became unknown to everything around him. He stops being Jon and becomes The Archivist and the only person who acknowledges that there's anything left of the person he was is Martin.

Nikola failed a doomed ritual but it still made the Archivist a Stranger

[wyspersss]

oh batman damian and robin steph, if only you weren’t in the middle of an apocalypse, you could’ve been so much more

[gremnda]

Fight against a demon

[moondirti]

due to popular demand, a follow up to this featuring: 18+ content, gaz, ballerina!reader, internet stalking, men being gross, another a thinly veiled character study

Kyle is a good man.

Granted, his metric is not attuned to common standards for morality anymore, nor has it been that way since basic. He's sure that if he were to pick any sheltered samaritan off the street to read out his laundry list of transgressions, they'd balk at the fact that their taxes go to keeping him fed. They'd rather their image of the army stay unsullied and ideal. They'd rather keep him at arms length with a thank you for your service and not confront the blood caked beneath his fingernails.

But he can no longer be held to their degree. No longer exists within these spaces. No. Kyle – or Gaz, if one were to go off of what he's called most often nowadays – is a doorstop. A pestle. Something inconspicuous, obscure, that serves the sole function of making life easier for everyone but itself. And he assumes this role with a handful of others who have nothing else to live for, exiled to crowd the back of Foxhounds and kill at a moment's notice. Foul men. Friends.

If someone were to line up every operative on a special forces unit, or better yet collect the likes of the 141 and asses each for their moral standing, Gaz can rest knowing he'd come out on top. He's not yet as far gone as they are; can enjoy a night out or a pretty bird writhing underneath him without wanting to choke her out. Only devoted to his captain, or the others, to the extent that their professional relationship calls for (no matter how much it itches at him to watch Ghost take care of Soap, or to reject Price when he offers him a drink).

Sure, he laughs at their jokes. Might pitch in when they're swapping stories of their filthiest catch, Soap rattling on about the lass who'd stuffed her tongue up his arse, or encourage them to shoot on sight if they spot a potential threat, civilian or otherwise. Yet the difference is this: when he goes home, he can stuff that all away.

Knows not to let it infest the boundaries of the real world. Off deployment, his comrades play pretend at the noncombatant lifestyle, but the guise is ill-fitting. They're too big for their skin. They stretch and tear at the conventions holding them in place, like feral dogs made to heel. Kyle doesn't have to be tamed. He's still functional, familiar with the expectations held of him. Can submit to integrity more easily than most.

Kyle is a good man.

And that's what he tells himself as he returns home, train car completely void of anyone but himself. He's good for having given you up. He's good for not have followed you home. There'd been a brief lapse of judgement, but he's good for doing something about it before things passed the point of no return.

You've lived this far without his protection, he reasons. Yet it doesn't change the unreachable itch, closed away in a supposedly locked box. Gaz. Or, his captain's voice, cigar-smoked and advisory.

But why should you continue like that.

It's hard to fall asleep that night.

He's sick with worry wondering if you ever got home, bile broiling and distending up his throat at the thought of having abandoned you. It's pure concern that compels him to find your socials, really. Kyle is only searching for an update, or recent post, indicating that you're alive.

With nothing to go off of but a face, he searches for dance studios in both Acton Town, your area, and the Kensington, the area where you'd boarded the tube from. He makes a shortlist of the most reputable ones (your attire seemed to imply that you were a seasoned ballerina) and cross-checks them as hosts of upcoming recitals. Two renditions of Swan Lake and a production of Giselle turn up, each with their very own cast lists. Thus begins a tireless search of every name credited.

His heart almost leaps out of his nose when you eventually load into view, then plummets at how easy you'd been to find.

Your vulnerability only sets Kyle's conviction in stone. Bloody good thing he's got your best interests in mind.

Locked twitter, a LinkedIn, and a public Instagram page which sends his blood pressure skyrocketing after checking your follower count. Popular. And of course he can see why. Over a hundred posts chronicling bright smiles and flattering outfits. You mainly use the account to promote your practice, though; feed full of skimpy little outfits, leotards and exposed sternums and impossible poses.

Stop it. He's here for something specific.

Kyle sips in a deep breath, scrolls back to the top of your page, clicks on your most recent post. A casual video of your leg raised on a barre while your friend counts how high above your previous record you're able to stretch. Your skin is sweat-slicked. Your mouth is thrown open in a half-laugh, half-pant. He almost forgets why he clicked on it in the first place, before the timestamp catches his eye.

30 minutes ago.

So, you'd gotten home.

He can go to bed now.

Exit your account. Swipe up on Instagram to clear it from his running apps. If he's extra disciplined, he'd block you. Rob himself of the temptation to tug himself over the photo of you in the splits.

Kyle is a good man because he knows his limits.

(But Kyle now also knows the address of your studio. That, even if he blocks you, it'll take up space in his chest. A ticking-time bomb. A knowledge that'll haunt him whenever he's on the District, Circle, or Piccadilly lines, and the train announces Gloucester Road. A force, a stone in his throat, that'll grow so large it'll force him to stand up and disembark, to walk until he's standing right outside and wait on you to wrap up rehearsal.)

It occurs to him that the point of no return has long since passed.

inclusivity note: i felt the need to say that, while reader is a dancer, her profession is not meant to imply anything about her body type. flexibility and agility are not limited to thin builds, and while the ballet industry can be very toxic, i've seen my fair share of spaces where all figures are embraced and success is determined only by ability!

[solarockk]

13 year old tea

designs // first meeting

shiny duo pokemon au "Pokémon’s Shiny Jewels Sun&Moonstone" by @wyvernspirit and I

[reallilystuff]

the baba bingies....the woingle woodles.....the skoingle yonkers......

@spadillelicious ULTRA FANART BLAST BEAM 3000!!!!!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥 LOVE UR FIC so much it rattles. around my brain. maraca style. bowmling ball🎳

gonna include the brighter versions bc I can't decide whether i like them or the other one more 😔

bonus doodle for funsies ft. da ynsona? thing? idk

(i like to think the top right doodle is the direct result of the other yn drawing above LMAO)

[complete-clownery]

Very random drawings cuz ive been procastinating on everything I have to do, but there they are

[maudiemoods]

The squid monkey wrench or something idk

Normal colors below woo

[starsillys]

HUMANOIDs humanoids sdesigns for the silly’s SILLY

anyway a little (🤏) little more detailed description of their fits below the cut,,, no big deal if you read them hhaha (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEAPELEASPLE)

sam wears those Hawaiian shirts and wears mismatched socks (brightly colored) with sandals with brightly coloured yellow rubber gloves!!!!! He always wants to start cleaning but just,,, never gets around to it he’s so lasy lol (so much so he procrastinates on taking off the gloves as well wtf) , jade is kind of insane and is so cheery happy she loves pins and tags and stickers and stuffs and she always zooms around with her crazy skates with different colour wheels (everytime she zooms there’s a little rainbow trail coming from her shoes) she has her iconic pink bow obv and can pull out literally anything in her overall dress pocket… like pencils, lollipops, comically large hammers,,, it’s very silly!! KINITO he is not so flashy he’s kind of plain,, usually wears a tank top and shorts yk,,, or sometimes like formal dress shirts and ties when he’s getting slash srs!! He wears jammas,, absolutely dripped out when it’s the sleeps time,, got the epper fit with the candle and hat and nightgown, everything!!! He wears his glasses a lot,,, not just for reading (he has very bad vision overall)

[manitapaleta]

the Li-Wilson family is the cutest, change my mind

(you cant)

[unluckyprime]

guys they’re LITERALLY will they/won’t they partners .

[weebsinstash]

yandere Lex Luthor would N0T allow you to divorce him and honestly I think he would have any divorce lawyers you "secretly" speak to on the matter quietly sent away to be tested on in a laboratory somewhere or something equally horrific

you: oh, wow, Lex... you got me a new moisturizer to try and buy my affection again, how quaint

Lex, not even mildly concerned for the health and safety of the grotesque chimera freak in his secret lab whose skin they've been testing brand new experimental chemical combinations on because the whelp suggested he could represent you in divorce court: I hope you like it beloved, i had it made custom for you 🥰

[iutdwae]

accidentally deleted the ask from kitty anon elaborating on tutor!changbin but it’s most definitely on my mind ><. something about buff men in glasses.. and he’s smart too!! i wouldn’t doubt that he’d let you sit on his lap, dick buried inside you while he lectures you through the material, thorough and patient as if he wasn’t burning to rock his hips against you. his large arms would encage your own body, guiding you through the lesson, and it feels as safe as it gets having his chest pressed onto your back, his voice sultry and low against your ear.

on the opposite end, if he’s got the time to spare, he wouldn’t hesitate to tease you. bin likes to have his two fingers buried deep in your cunt, thumb just barely rubbing at your clit, all while he’s reading the questions off the pages like nothing was wrong. gotta study at the campus library? he’s already ahead of the game, asking you to slip a vibrator into your panties that he’d left at the lowest temperature, gradually increasing the speed and intensity each time you’d get something wrong. your head would be pounding by the time you manage to complete the assingment, and changbin can tell how much you’re holding back.

expect to have his cock pounding into you while you’re bent over the table when the session is done, allowing you to render brain dead on his dick after studying so hard. he’ll fuck you until he knows you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the feeling of him stretching you out, watching himself slip in and out of your cunt through the fogged lenses that rested on the tip of his nose. binnie loves telling you how proud he is of you all while his thrusts push his cum from your hole, letting it run down your thighs while his large hands grasp your waist. he takes a lot of pride knowing that your marks always end up significantly higher, though he refuses to tutor anyone except you.

[evasgfluna]

nova doodles

[dizzybizz]

finally got around to finishing a sketch from last year 🎉🎉🎉

aug '22 -> mar '23 -> oct '23

[that1overthere]

Sorry y'all, I gave her a mysterious andorian husband *womp womp*