#paw and order comic

[insideapollo]

Congrats to L&O on their 500th episode! Can’t wait to see more Daddy Nolan! 👹

Finally done with school for the semester so I can draw more of my babies!! 😍🥹🙏💜💕 Nolan has his eyes on his darling detective! 😌

Also I got into @animenyc! I’ll be bringing my Hannigram artbooks and (hopefully) new Paw & Order!! It’s August 23-25 at the Javits Center 💖

***

Shared earlier on Patre♡n.com/Nunar 💕

[pawzofchaos]

from a while ago,, thought it’d be a cute idea to doodle

Based off this persons post!! ^^

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - A Messy Fight

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

On their way to face Queen, Kris and the Fun Gang run into Tasque Manager, who demands impossible standards of order. Her criticisms might feel a little too familiar to Kris...but at least the rest of the Fun Gang have their back!

YAY, it's nice to finally get another comic all finished! This one obviously had to go on hold for awhile from my wrist injury. While I'm working on recovering, things are still going to be slow for awhile (probably the rest of the year), so it may be another wait before the next scene.

Alt text for these pages under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Kris, Ralsei, Susie and Noelle walk down a long, uniform stone hallway. Eyeless porcelain gargoyles shaped like big cats stand watch from atop pillars in the hallway. As they walk, Ralsei says, “We’re getting closer to Queen’s chambers. Stay on the alert, Kris!”

Panel 2 - Kris responds with a quick “I am.” As the Fun Gang continues down the hallway, one of the porcelain gargoyles turns its head to follow them.

Panel 3 - Im a medium shot, Lancer pops up from within Susie’s hair, and waves at Kris. He says, “Hey human person, is it hard to stay alert with all that hair in your eyes?” Susie grins, and sticks out her tongue in joking agreement. “Yeah, it’s gettin’ even messier.” Unbeknownst to the Fun Gang, in the background, one of the gargoyles starts to climb down the pillar.

Panel 4 - Closeup on Kris as they brush their long and messy hair out of their face. “I can see just fine,” they respond.

Panel 5 - Two of the gargoyles land on the ground, the panel’s focus on their clawed paws tapping against the stones.

Page 2 Panel 1 - Noelle turns her head, one ear perked up to listen to what’s behind them. She says, “Wait. I hear something…”

Panel 2 - Closeup on the clawed paws of the gargoyles as they charge forward.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as they turn at the sound, reaching for their sword.

Panel 4 - Wide shot of the Fun Gang. They suddenly find themselves surrounded on all sides by four porcelain big cats, all snarling as they circle them. Susie glares back.

Panel 5 - Susie turns back to Lancer, still poking out of her hair. She says, “Uugh, more jerks! Better hide again.” Lancer responds with a disappointed “Aw man…” but does as he’s asked.

Panel 6 - “What are these things?” Kris asks, eyeing a gargoyle circling them, and keeping one hand on their sword hilt. “They’re tasques!” replies Ralsei.

Page 3

Panel 1 - Ralsei turns expectantly, looking ahead. “That means that their *manager* must be near…”

Panel 2 - Closeup on an armored boot as it steps into the middle of the hall. 

Panel 3 - The boot belongs to Tasque Manager. She appears as an armored knight with impeccably polished plate armor, decorated with sharp V-shaped emblems. She appears human in stature, except for her head, which is the bleached skull of a big cat, and with pointed ears. She wields a flail with seven spiked spheres on the end of a collection of cords. She holds up her hand, and says, “Halt, interlopers! I will not permit you to approach the Queen!”

Panel 4 - The Fun Gang remain surrounded by the gargoyles, but Kris still looks ready to fight. Susie sneers at Tasque Manager, and says, “Since when do we need *your* permission?” She responds, “I maintain *order* and *cleanliness* in this dwelling.”

Panel 5 - Straight on shot of Tasque Manager’s face, emphasizing her symmetry and sense of order. “Do you truly think you are worthy…of Queen’s presence in your disorderly state?”

Page 4

Panel 1 - Full shot of the Fun Gang just staring back. They all look pretty haggard, unkempt and gross in their own ways.

Panel 2 - Same shot as previous, although now Noelle tilts her head to the side. “Um…yes?” she offers quietly.

Ralsei helpfully gestures to Kris beside him. “Certainly! Kris even bathed just two weeks ago.”

Panel 3 - Tasque Manager is not having it, and yells back at the group: “LIES!! I can see the *filth* all over you, human! I can smell your STENCH!”

Panel 4 - She continues, “You’re unfit for these halls…you belong in the wastes that you reek of!” The insults are especially focused on Kris.

Panel 5 - Kris shuts their eyes, remembering something from their past…

Panel 6 - A series of flashback images, to when Kris was just a little kid, living as an orphan on the streets. They try to sneak around the back of a food stand in the market, looking for something to eat, when they’re spotted by an empire soldier in armor.

The soldier yanks them up roughly by the shirt and yells in their face: “What’re you doing around here, you filthy urchin?! This is a *nice* place!”

The soldier then throws Kris down into the gutter, splashing street water all over them. “Go stink up a gutter where you belong!” the soldier screams. 

Page 5

Panel 1 - Kris opens their eyes again, grimacing. This is clearly an unpleasant memory for them.

Panel 2 - They pull out their sword, and point it towards Tasque Manager. “Maybe my stench will give your dull and tasteless halls some character,” they say.

Panel 3 - Extreme close up on Tasque Manager’s unnaturally sharp teeth. “Human…”

Panel 4 - “I’ll flay your filthy skin from your bones!” she shrieks, and pulls the flail tight in front of her, ready to fight.

Panel 5 - Ralsei immediately teleports out of the range of battle with a burst of flame and smoke. Kris and the beasts eye the gargoyles as they begin to close in on them.

Panel 6 - “Susie! Noelle!” Kris begins the fight by giving them the ACT command. 

Panel 7 - Closeup on Noelle as she opens her mouth and uses her icy breath attack, aiming at one of the gargoyles.

Pavel 8 - However, the gargoyle runs just out of range of the incoming frost, and sprints towards Susie’s unprotected right side.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Closeup as the gargoyle leaps onto Susie and sinks its large teeth into her side, latching on like a lamprey eel. 

Panel 2 - Susie roars in pain and anger at the gargoyle, even as another one coming in from her left bites down into an empty space on her chest.

Panel 3 - Wide shot as the beasts struggle to shake off the gargoyles, but they’re too hard to reach. One more bites into Noelle’s flank, while the last circles, looking for another opening. In the foreground, Kris faces Tasque Manager in one on one combat.

Panel 4 - Kris, being less skilled at swordfighting, only manages to block incoming hits from the flail. All the while, Tasque Manager yells at them: “You humans are so *irrational! Unorderly!*” 

Panel 5 - Tasque Manager flings the flail at Kris’s face as she continues: “Wretched, chaotic creatures…it’s horrid how the gods and demons here desire your souls!”

Panel 6 - Kris remains face to face with Tasque Manager, the flail partially wrapped around their sword…way too close to their face. Still, they are curious about her statement. “Horrid? Never come across a human soul pure enough for you?” they ask.

Page 7

Panel 1 - Tasque Manager leans in to grab the flail, as Kris struggles to keep appropriate space between them. “Never. There is no such thing as a pure human soul,” she replies. 

Panel 2 - Noelle runs in a circle with the gargoyle still attached to her flank. Behind her, Susie lashes her tail angrily, trying to shake off the two biting into her own hide.

Panel 3 - In a fit of desperation, Susie finally rolls onto her side, trying to crush the gargoyle against the stone floor. A sound like breaking glass is heard.

Panel 4 - When she raises up again, the gargoyle is now in shattered porcelain pieces on the floor, although it did leave a nasty wound behind.

Panel 5 - Noelle turns her head, noticing the shattered remains. “Oh, Susie! They break like stone!”

Panel 6 - Susie also takes note of the shattered gargoyle, and gets an idea.

Panel 7 - Thinking fast, she goes and snaps her jaws around the gargoyle on Noelle’s flank, and tears it free.

Panel 8 - Still with one more gargoyle hanging from her neck, she swings her head around in a wide arc and tosses the gargoyle in her jaws at the far wall.

Page 8

Panel 1 - The gargoyle hits a pillar by the far wall, and shatters like porcelain.

Panel 2 - Tasque Manager is momentarily drawn away from Kris as she notices her shattered minions’ remains cluttering up the pristine floor. She shakes with rage. “You’re all making…”

Panel 3 - “SUCH A HORRIBLE MESS!” she screams, and rears back to attack Kris with her flail again.

Panels 4-5 - Kris is momentarily struck by another memory, and they wince in anticipation.

Panel 6 - In a flashback scene. Kris has somehow knocked over a cart full of fruits, and they lay scattered across the cobblestones, broken and smashed. An angry vendor stands nearby. 

Meanwhile, another empire soldier is already there, and grabs Kris by the hair. “LOOK AT THIS MESS YOU’VE MADE!” he screams, shaking Kris. 

Panel 7 - Tasque Manager charges forward, the flail coming in fast at Kris…

Panel 8 - And hits home, striking the, in the head, above their eye. Blood bursts from the head wound.

Page 9

Panel 1 - “KRIS!!” Closeup on Ralsei as he yells in alarm, his eyes wide.

Panel 2 - Kris staggers backward, shaking, and pressing their left hand to their temple.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Kris pulls their hand away, and finds it covered in blood.

Panel 4 -  Meanwhile, Susie rolls onto her chest again, crushing the gargoyle on her neck against the floor. It crunches into pieces like the others.

Panel 5 - In the background, Susie gets up and brushes the remaining shards off her neck. In the foreground, Noelle stomps the remaining gargoyle into pieces with her hooves.

Panel 6 - Kris turns and looks up at Tasque Manager. She raises her flail to strike once again. 

Panel 7 - Despite the fact that Kris is bleeding considerably from the head wound, they smile with realization, and charge in towards Tasque Manager. “The best part about human messes…”

Panel 8 - Tasque Manager takes a wide swing with her flail, but Kris swiftly ducks under it, and slides in close to her. 

Page 10

Panel 1 - Kris finishes, “Is that you can *always* make them worse!” Kris leaps up in front of Tasque Manager, and smears the blood on their hand across her polished breastplate. 

Panel 2 - Tasque Manager pulls back and shrieks in horror at the bloody stain on her armor, both arms raised.

Panel 3 - Kris pulls back, their head still bleeding, and points decisively at Tasque Manager. Noelle and Susie are standing ready behind them, and they give the [FIGHT] command.

Panel 4 - Tasque Manager tries in vain to wipe the blood off her armor, temporarily distracted…

Panel 5 - Which is enough time for Susie to come in from above and snap her jaws around Tasque Manager. She screams, and drops her flail.

Panel 6 - In a wider shot, Kris and Noelle look on as Noelle violently shakes her head with Tasque Manager in her jaws, like a dog shaking a chew toy. Pieces of her armor fly out as she’s tossed back and forth.

Page 11

Panel 1 - Finished with her attack, Susie spits out Tasque Manager, now a complete disassembled mess of armor and bone. Her pieces scatter across the stone floor.

Panel 2 - Noelle opens her mouth wide, and uses her frost breath again…

Panel 3 - …And her icy breath freezes the scattered pieces to the floor, leaving no chance of an easy reforming. Kris watches as the cat skull head skids free of the rest of the mess…

Panel 4 - And slides to a stop by their feet. Although broken up and frozen, Tasque Manager’s severed head can still speak, albeit weakly. “So disordered…scattered…filthy…”

Panel 5 - Low angle shot at the skull glares up at Kris with contempt. Kris has won, but she still has last insults to get in: “No wonder…you were discarded…”

Panel 6 - Kris closes their eyes again, another flashback coming back…

Panel 7 - Another series of flashback images to a younger, orphan Kris. They’re hiding in a pile of trash behind some boxes, shivering, terrified of encountering another soldier. Someone else can be seen approaching.

“Hey…” Kris looks up from their hiding position at the sound of a calmer voice. They see a hand being extended to them.

The hand belongs to a younger Asriel, reaching down to help them up. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Page 12 Panel 1 - Back in the present, Ralsei approaches Kris again, putting a reassuring hand on their shoulder. He smiles down at them. “Well done, Kris! We’re that much closer to Queen now.”

Panel 2 - Higher shot as the Fun Gang begins to regroup ans start back down the hall again. Susie leans back towards the frozen and broken Tasque Manager with a taunt: “Good luck cleaning *that* up, you stupid snob!”

Panel 3 - Lancer pops back out of Susie’s hair, one hand raised to his head to look around. “Did we win?” he asks.

“Obviously!” Susie replies with a grin.

Panel 4 - Lancer turns to Kris, who is walking at the head of the party. “Wow! I guess you really *can* see through that string bean hair!” Kris is still injured and messy, but doesn’t seem to mind. “Well enough.”

Panel 5 - A shot from behind the Fun Gang as they continue down the dark hall, heading towards the Queen. Behind them lies a giant mess of shattered porcelain, frozen armor pieces and broken bones. “You know…” Kris says, “I think I will let it grow wild and ugly for the foreseeable future.”

[see-arcane]

Our good friend Jonathan Harker is getting ready to leave for his business trip, Mina Murray is picking out a new journal, Lucy Westenra is charming a gaggle of smitten suitors, Abraham van Helsing is wrapping up his lectures, and Castle Dracula is prepping the guest room for a very long stay.

Which must mean that Dracula Season is here again!

 ‘Dracula Season’ being a catchall term for the voracious reading, memeing, writing, illustrating, analyzing, and general fun-having that’s ensued since Matt Kirkland’s project, Dracula Daily, caught on with us back in 2022. The Substack had already been running before then, but it sparked a conflagration as time went on and readers old and new to Bram Stoker’s Dracula—the actual novel, not Coppola’s fanfiction—devoured it in a way that scratched an itch none of us knew we had. Stoker wrote the book in epistolary fashion, clumping sections together as needed for the pacing without perfect adherence to chronological order. Matt went ahead and put all the events in order and proceeded to set up a lovely chain of emails that delivered entries on those correlating dates.

This style of organization and pacing turned out to not only make the virtual book club that much easier to engage with, but left space in-between to stew on the story and relate with the characters themselves. Every day of waiting in the book feels weightier when you have to pace and sweat and worry in tandem with poor Jonathan trapped in the castle or Lucy wasting away or Mina running out the clock before she loses the fight for her own humanity. And while we sat with the story or the lulls between Dracula Seasons, some of us found ourselves craving more of that ghastly gothic horror goodness to the point that we figured:

“Well. Why don’t I make something?”

And then we did! Tons of creative works have been churned out in the wake of Dracula Daily’s high. I figured that while we’ve still got a bit of time to wait for May 3rd, we should check out all this new stuff in the meantime. (Plus a handful of neat stuff that just clicks with the Dracula itch overall.)

So, in the interest of Dracula Season pregaming, let’s take a look at…

FICTION

Blood of My Blood – A recent addition to the Dracula Bad Ending AU pile, and definitely one of the most harrowing and addictive group-produced narratives I’ve ever come across, Blood of My Blood is the dramatically gothic currently-WIP work of @ibrithir-was-here and @animate-mush’s devious design. Give or take a heap of other fascinated folks (hello!) adding ideas to put more Horror into the Horrors that our cast has to face. The premise:

The Transylvanian climax went fatally sour and the Harkers were forced to shelter with Dracula himself, including their half-vampire son, Quincey. Cut to two decades later, and Quincey finds himself out in modern London, smitten with Lu, adopted daughter of Arthur and Jack, and diving into certain bloodstained old documents that detail the real history of how his parents came to live in the castle. Said revelations coming not a moment too soon, as a storm is coming for him straight from the Carpathians…

Dracula Daily Sketch Collection – An array of illustrations that captures every entry beat by beat, the Dracula Daily Sketch Collection by Georgia Cook, alias @georgiacooked was dished out over the course of the last Dracula Season. Some of the most fun character designs out there.

Fanfiction Spotlight: BlueCatWriter – With a whopping 99 works devoted to the novel Dracula (so far, the number may have gone up since I blinked), @bluecatwriter is one of the most prolific and talented fanfiction scribblers out there. Romances, nightmares, and overlaps between the two seem to crop up the most, give or take a crossover. Seems fitting that those blue paw prints have contributed to BoMB too.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk – An ongoing comic in which all your favorite characters from the Classics section get together and tackle some perils ranging from the mundane to the monstrous. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit, with a spotlight on the two couples leading the League. Namely, the Harkers, ala Dracula, and the Nortons, ala Sherlock Holmes,’ “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Mina and Irene are the driving investigative and steering forces here, and still deeply in love with their likewise-infatuated husbands, just like in their canons! What a concept! Alan.

Without spoiling the full character list, just know there are going to be a ton of familiar faces roaming around before you finish reading the first arc. Said arc having conveniently wrapped up just a few days ago! Give the comic and its bonus silliness a look if you’re in the mood for a new comfort-adventure epic.

Re: Dracula – Probably the most well-known and incredible thing to come out of the initial Dracula Daily wave. This podcast is a full audio drama that follows the same format as the Substack, with episodes coming out in time with the entries themselves. And it has an unfairly cool soundtrack. They have a Tumblr with @re-dracula, a site and a Patreon to check out before the series kicks up again on May 3rd. (Also, keep an eye out for their next work, an audio drama in the same style with Carmilla.)

The Soldier and the Solicitor – Another treat from @ibrithir-was-here, this one involves a bit of time travel trouble. Quincey Harker has stumbled out of World War I and into the same dark forest where his father once fled for his life…then runs into the man himself, on that same night. Jonathan Harker, young and starved and lost, who has no choice but to trust this stranger while the Weird Sisters are at his heels…despite said stranger having no shadow. It’s a tasty emotional trek, already complete on Tumblr, but now it’s turning into a Webtoon. While Ibrithir is juggling a number of other stories, she’ll be redrawing spruced up versions of the comic and adding a few new scenes as things unfold.

Substack Stack – You know what’s better than one emailed-out public domain book club? A mountain of them. Just. So, so many of them. You’ll see that a lot of these are finished, but some are still ticking along. Either way, they’re all great picks if you’re craving some more old school lit to fill the void between undead emails.

Frankenstein Weekly – Frankenstein

Jekyll and Hyde Weekly – The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Voyage of the Nautilus – Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

Letters from Watson – Sherlock Holmes

The Invisible Mail – The Invisible Man

Letters from Bunny – E.W. Hornung’s short stories of the eponymous Bunny and Raffles

Letters Regarding Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster short stories, including the novel, Right Ho, Jeeves

…

……

………

…The Beetle Weekly – The Beetle (NOTE: Do Not Read This.)

The Vampyres – A novella I finally wrenched through the gears of self-publication as of March this year. Starring a petite but powerful paranormal cast, The Vampyres, centers on an unscrupulous undead fellow who finds that the revenants of the world are being mowed down by an entity known only as ‘Quinn Morse.’ Between trying to save his neck and figure out where the shadowy bastard came from, the Vampyre in question crosses paths with a new paramour and handy human shield in the form of a grieving Good Samaritan. He’s even polite enough to invite the Vampyre into his home while he’s in dire straits! Surely this will end well. All the info is available here and a little author site is over here.

What Manner of Man – This is the one made for everyone who started out hoping there’d be a real love story with our good friend Jonathan Harker and the Count when he was at his most charismatic. Where that sea of wonders dried up into a mire of horror, What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling keeps things firmly on the romantic tracks. This Substack stars the letter-writing priest Father Victor E. Ardelian as he finds himself meeting with one enigmatic Lord Alistair Vane. It isn’t long before interest turns into intrigue and intrigue into undead intimacies.

The entire novel has been completed—along with multiple epilogues in the author’s Patreon, allowing readers to choose for themselves just how the uncanny romance plays out in the end—and the Substack now has a number of other gothic goodies piling up in the meantime.  

NONFICTION

Dracula Daily: A Unique Reading Experience: This one comes courtesy of @realwomenofgaming. It’s a short and sweet piece that amounts to a fun snapshot of the entire Dracula Daily ride. A cozy couple-minute read.

‘Dracula Daily’ is the One Substack You Need a Subscription To: Features my favorite Matt Kirkland interview. @mattkirkland, if you’re still floating around on here, thank you for dispatching our vampire newsletter again this year.

Dracula Daily is Tumblr’s hottest new book club: Alright, the ‘new’ part is worn out by now, but this one is still a delightful article to swing back around to. Two years on, this Polygon piece is a time capsule of those early months when people outside our bookworm bubble realized we were all happily receiving letters from our favorite classic gothic horror blorbos.  

“How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” – Princess Weekes, if you ever read this, thank you, thank you, thank you. I am sending oceans of love and millions of rewatches to your video essay. If you haven’t seen it yet, “How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” is one of the most refreshing and well-made breakdowns of both the title subject and numerous other issues that have proliferated in the public view of Dracula’s cast and plot as adaptations endlessly warp or outright bastardize the actual novel. An incredibly cathartic watch.  

Literary play gone viral: delight, intertextuality, and challenges to normative interpretations through the digital serialization of Dracula: A mouthful of a title for an even more elaborate article about the Dracula Daily phenomenon. This one is a full-on study that analyzes just what happened within the big bloodsucker book club surge and how its ‘wandering reading practices’ enriched the experience for participants.

 “The Undying Undead: An analysis of the Dracula Daily community for a theory of online community formation and interaction” – We have a thesis on here! Look at that! @sirangelothebestest’s MA thesis used our vampiric book club as the bones for a massive brick of an academic piece that definitely deserves a look.

…And I think I’ll go ahead and cap things here.

This isn’t everything I got recommended, but if I had squashed all of it in here, I think folks’ eyes would start to fall out of their head. I hope you can find something cool to comb through here. Or, if there’s something great I overlooked, tack it onto the list! We’ve got just two weeks to go until we’re off with Mr. Harker. Let’s enjoy our respite before those castle doors close behind us.

[mommyclaws]

Not finishing this wip but I really liked the expression and think Quince deserves to fucking scream. I had a comic planned where she went into the forest to look for Tiny and ran into a patrol of Sunstar, Bluefur and Thistleclaw...

When confronted she tells them she’s looking for her missing kit and Bluefur recognizes her description, a small black tom with a white paw. She says that Thistleclaw ordered Tigerpaw to attack him, he ran away, and they never saw him since. Absolutely distraught, Quince desperately, nearly hysterically begs Thistleclaw what her innocent son could have possibly done to deserve being attacked, Tiny was her smallest kit and he would never hurt anyone. But Thistle reacts completely apathetically, saying he was only defending his borders from a tresspasser.

Sunstar is in shock and tries his best to apologize, even offering a few search patrols to help find her kitten. They never did find him, and it was that moment Sunstar decided Thistleclaw could never be deputy.

[duck-a-doodle]

COD Headcanons: Soft Intimacy

SFW thoughts on what would unravel the COD boys. This is my first post for this fandom, and my entry point to it was the MWII campaign and a few comics, so it might be slightly OOC. In the meantime, I will keep doing research and I hope this brings you joy! :-) -CH

Masterlist 7/14/2024

Simon "Ghost" Riley silently relishes light scratches. The kind that runs slowly, gently down the scalp or round the ears, feathering across his scapula over the thin fabric of his shirt and the underside of his arms. He shudders at getting his spine or ribs traced, head spinning at the idea of fingers so tender taking long, tantalising hours to outline all of himself, the electrifying comfort flickering his heavy eyelids. Heavy as he is, the man is quick to persuade that you rest your weight upon him during such domestic ministrations; he curses, however, at your much more compelling affections, falling prey to the charms of your worship. Slowly, but surely, he leans forth — first dropping his head to your shoulder while languid nails crawl down his cheek, then falling to his hands and soon, his elbows — gliding his head down your collarbone and onto your beating chest, where he recognises that you are most ardently obsessed of him as he is of you. “Obsessed” is much too simple a word  and “reverent”, too large an understatement. His skin is yours, his mind is yours, his breath, his tongue, and every crevice of himself he can count; a gift and homage to your hands, his temple. As he finally sinks all of himself into you with a groan and a sigh, he gingerly lifts his heavy hands, resting them warmly by your sides and over your ribs, in hopes to return all your love with the altogether humble gesture. On days which he stubbornly wishes to do the same for you, he mimics the way you touch him, in every precise manner and every exact order, seeking nooks and crannies that warm your skin or hitch your breath. He will weakly protest, however, moments which your hands reach too close to him outside of these intimate instances, causing light, inadvertent whimpers from the back of his throat.

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Captain John Price likes using his hands for carrying. “Brutish” is an adjective familiar and frequent to his bear paws, trained to caress cold, carbons steel and paint itself in red, smelling only of matches and rust.  The warmest things his hands have known are the arms and backs of his fallen men and the barrel of his heartless iron, the touch of it comparable to a Londoner’s December. You, in place of the metal, you, strong yet brittle and you, lighter to him than a C4, grenade or flashbang, are his respite, reprising over the smoke of his numerous deployments, where his hands took more than they gave. He cannot help the pliant hips and waist that fit his palms seamlessly, more harmless than the many miry grounds he trekked before — a kind, relenting texture which spoil his weathered, calloused digits with the knowledge that they are utterly malleable to you, benign to you, void of all menace. Coarse fingers drag and curl your silhouette as your mass rests weightlessly on his arms and shoulders, yielding to his calculated strength. That he can evoke a laugh or an exclamation of surprise is a source of endless pride; a gentle nudge that the Captain John Price can tickle fancy by exercising a fraction of his brawn on something worldly. He could lift your groceries, the couch, your books — but  he likes to sweep off your feet the most. Trailing your thighs, calves, the small of your back are the hands that seek reminder of his humanity, tendons and phalanges flexing with every curve it meets, venerating eyes never leaving yours which watch his display of muscle with great wonder. For you, he would carry the world. Thus, in his words, “my back is strong enough to carry both our weights for a lifetime, if you’d let me.”

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John "Soap" McTavish has developed a habit of pawing. The abundance (if not exclusive presence) of tough military equipment, smoking alloys and dogged combat routines necessitated his use of hard, impenetrable gloves. Its rugged, protective textile has unwittingly sensitised his hands to various surfaces, including bare skin. He hesitated to touch you, timorous from his own want, curiosity and the unknown. Gone are his inhibitions when graced with your guiding hands, easing the earth-riddled cowhide off his palms. Aimless hands follow your lead, pressing into you over his Henley you borrowed. Finding purchase upon your stomach, he gradually grows accustomed to the fondness of your abdomen, shortly braving his way to your chest with sturdy yet clumsy paws. A current crackles down his body as he toys with the ripples of fabric adorned by your skin, indulgence rapidly surging from his fingers to his giddy head — he is soon to be all over you, his newfound contentment switching into overdrive. Respiration turning laboured, those once shy hands grow ravenous and wayward, roaming under the influence of his enthusiasm; every sharp inhale and strained noise he extorts from you only serves to encourage him further, inciting cheeky gropes at your sides, inner thighs and behind. What would eventually drive his mind over the edge, when you finally decide he is too much, is your folding a very surprised McTavish down onto the couch over you, keeping his head to your tummy and his hands tucked to your sides, imploring him to behave himself. Chiding him to act proper was an error on your behalf; his demeanour shifts, mischief clear in his eyes as he unabashedly explores all of you, pawing at you with every naughty intent fathomable.

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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is crazy about being sat on. By no means a foolhardy nor gormless soldier, he holds himself to high decorum with immense discipline, ever an air of diplomacy about his person. None would have imagined that a simple act as sitting on his lap would send him reeling, rendered silent for fear of speaking with neither form nor cohesion. He turns light-headed watching your thighs pool like molten lava, quads sweltering from mere contact, let alone the pleasurable tension of your weight balancing precariously off his trembling knees. Worried that his legs would tire, you made to rise, wanting to relieve him of your own gravity but you were firmly held in place; two large, veined hands anchor you resolutely onto unmoving thighs, and any attempts of persuasion, made in the interest of his own comfort, faced flat rebuffal. Gratitude towards Lady Luck nearly spills from his lips, numb with inadvertence, as you nestle your heft upon him, for want of better comfort. You mistaking his lap for an empty stool was akin to setting his legs on fire, but to make yourself comfortable against him? For a man who prided himself for his class and propriety, he quickly found himself immensely burdened with sin, and subtlety became a language long forgotten. Had he any sense left in him that was not knocked out of the ballpark by your charming self, he would not be finding himself gently playing with the hem of your shirt, folding funny shapes with the fabric between his clammy fingers. Savoury dreams of you enticed him, swimming behind his glossy eyes that are unresponsive to the lights that danced across his features. Oh, you were so much trouble to him, colouring him brazen and so very warm. He loves it, however, and you will soon find what a fiend and a devil you can be when you later use this against the soldier's poor heart.

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Alejandro Vargas will die for your scent. Tantamount to a hound, no vaquero could catch the winds of change for miles around the way he could. The smell of burning tyres against the asphalt of the streets, the oils and perfumes of the same shop houses, the settling dust of his own base, and the routine spritz of air freshener that now smelled of lemon instead of mint ever since the new hire came on duty. Where Alejandro worked, the bittersweetness of gunpowder that sweeps his olfactory is his peace, and the constant heatwave that boils a Proust phenomenon out of the hanger persists in the back of his senses, subtle yet certain. No delicate change challenged his sharpness. He has a full bible to list it all, memorised from the front to back — and though he may not be religious, he is a madly devoted man. A hypervigilance that cannot be removed must find a reprieve, and only a single odour, long seared into his mind, pulls at him not first from the mind but from the heart. You, who smelled of his blankets, you, whose shampoo and T-shirt he recognised not from the brand but from its lingering aroma, and you, who could never surprise him with your presence because the scent of you would enter the room before his name falls from your lips, and before his eyes could reach yours. You remain the only person who turned his head with such impassioned and obsessed vigour, and he knew he was done for ever since. He would press his nose deep into your cheek, your neck, or the back of your nape and find himself at home as he stood in a room full of coldhearted artillery. No proper explanation was ever given when you find a shirt or two missing over the months of his deployment, but secretly, you had always known. And like the cheek you are to his mischief, you bask in the darker colour of his cheeks when you find that mysterious missing shirt hidden in the pile of laundry from his deployment.

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Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra likes soft whispers. Such light, airy and vertiginous words that kiss the shell of his ears — they would rob the man of his joints. Everyday exchanges of each other’s day ground him and ruin him, discernible only by both your ears. While he lends his body to the field, bloody and savage, in his heart there stands a single white flag signed in your name, by his hand; in a head overrun with sounds of distorted infrared voices, caterpillar tracks crushing against gravel and of heartless iron shells dropping at two hundred rounds per minute, your quiet words remain. A man of few words must have so much thought that weighs on his tongue, until it becomes too heavy to express. Surely, you must be a godsend. The way you effortlessly loosen the words from his hardened teeth, clenched too tightly still lest a bullet comes to bite, pulls shivers from his lips and down his watery lashes. Something about your bottom lip renders him helpless, and he finds that he must rest his thumb on your lower lip to lessen the giddiness that threatens to beat his heart out of his flaming chest. Permanently latched onto the rich timber of your voice was a man desperate to preserve you, so much that he keeps all your voicemails to him and labels them by the topic, just so he can find exactly when he needs to hear, when he needs to hear it. Moments of quietude in his bunk led one thought to the next, and he often ended the day with your voice embracing the deepest parts of his soul through an old, wired earpiece, wondering if you knew what gravity you had upon him. Perhaps you do know, he believed decidedly — because when he played a new recording you sent him during his deployment, his fingers violently mashed the volume-down button of his device at your rather unique choice of words, spoken at a careless whisper. You knew he had listened to it, as the first thing he did when he returned was to hold you in your place, and return all the salacious whispers he received right back to the bane of his heart. Ten-fold.

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König has an obsession with trapping. Hugs come rare to a man of his nature; imposing, wild and unacclimated to the civilised world. When arms do find their way around him, his own snakes around them, encircling the sensation, holding it close and praying that it seeps into his skin, permeating his senses to remain seared in his remembrance. Yet, more than once, he finds the same arms, over and over, routine the way the birds must sing and the poets must write. Always your arms, by his initiative. Greed will be his downfall and he knows, and he gladly embraces his defeat, relenting to your winsome self without remorse. Never would he deem himself a small man, albeit despite the notion, he shrinks; younger and younger he becomes with you, compressed to his front as much as your skins would let, as much as his strength allows without colouring your flesh a bluish-purple, until he is but a boy cradling his most dear Bärchen, unwilling to let go. He watches with blooming gratification, the exhale that falls from your lips as you press together, eyes drooping from the pleasant pressure that grounds you to earth, all because it is he who holds you. He drinks the sight and lets the view inebriate his already intoxicated mind. On the occasion when he becomes the bear-trapped, he will amuse himself with your too-small arms that fail to close around him, and will quickly turn the tables, subjecting you to his drunken coos with an onslaught of “mein Schatz”es, “Schnuckiputzi”s and “liebling”s. Greed will be his downfall, but you must be his renaissance.

P.S.: Can you tell that I read Pride & Prejudice before writing the TF141's and König's parts? I can. :'-)

[spiderpussinc]

If you're going to comic stores today please check out miguel's brand new series from a queer writer PLEASEEEE THEYRE TRYING TO FIX HIM AND IT LOOKS SOOO GOOODDD.

It's called "MIGUEL O'HARA: SPIDER-MAN 2099"- and it has five issues confirmed in the upcoming months.

(you dont need to read anything else! 2099 was rebooted countless times! This is the new, current continuity)

comic stores have been on rocky ground since covid and titles in general operate in a 'direct interest request' type of hype to avoid cancellation -it's an archaic industry model, comic publishers need people to order in physical copies before they even come out to greenlight more numbers of any given series- so if you want to see more miguel stories by this writer, ask your local comic store to order in the future issues for you!

This is the biggest chance we've had in current memory to get Miguel written by modern, diverse voices and I really hope this continues.

Steve Orlando has previously written two short miniseries with Miguel if you're curious, those were "spider-man 2099: exodus" & "spider-man 2099: dark genesis". The first is an event comic with a confusing order so pay attention to issue titles, but the second is a pretty easy entrypoint! he has kitty paws in those.

[artbyblastweave]

So for those of you who don't read twenty-year-old marvel comics a lot, the 2005 Marvel Crisis Crossover was called House of M. The basic premise of this was that this was smack dab in the middle of the Scarlet-Witch-is-Having-a-Normal-one arc that was very, very loosely adapted into Wandavision; in her initial breakdown, she'd killed several of the Avengers, wound up in the protective custody of Magneto, and the recently reformed team was debating whether or not they were going to have to kill her before she deleted reality on accident or some such thing. But when they're on their way to Magneto's stronghold to have a "talk" with her, the world is enveloped in white, and Wolverine (the initial POV character) wakes up in a world where Mutants are 98% of the human population and have been for decades, and Magneto and his family (the titular House of M) are leaders of the global political order, and Wolverine is one of the only people in this realigned world who remembers that it was ever different.

Wolverine initially is operating under the assumption that Magneto cajoled Wanda into rewriting reality in his family's favor, but after rounding up and waking up several of his allies, he realizes that what actually happened is that Wanda rewrote reality so that everyone she knew would get everything they wanted- Magneto being in charge with a 98 percent global mutation rate is just the inevitable byproduct of that. The resulting world is an amalgamation that has to accommodate the conscious or subconscious "perfect life" of every superhero on earth, in a way that acts as a fascinating characterization tool, often with a monkey's-paw angle. Spider-Man is a beloved celebrity wrestler, and Uncle Ben and Gwen are both alive, but he attained that status by pretending to be a Mutant and he lives in constant fear of being exposed. Mystique, Rogue, Nightcrawler and several of their associates are the tight-knit family unit they were always kept from being.... as the elite jackboot of Magneto's regime. Luke Cage and Hawkeye lead the human resistance, standing in perpetual principled opposition to the powers that be, but with no real hope of accomplishing anything. Captain America didn't lose years of his life to the ice, but he had to live through a global authoritarian takeover he ultimately couldn't do anything about. Wolverine gets to remember his entire life, but that includes remembering that his current ideal circumstances were manufactured to keep him placated. And on and on and on. Lot of really interesting character takes packed up in there, paired with the equally interesting project of packing as many of them as possible into the same timeline without contradicting each other- after all, from the word go you have to contort everyone's happiness around the basic conceit that Magneto rules the world.

Anyway. House of M AU for Worm. Discuss.

[bokettochild]

random LU hcs before I go to church

Legend likes to draw, and while he uses it for practical purposes (he's compiling a bestiary of his own) he also likes to sketch random crap he finds while traveling

Hyrule weaves. Not fabric, since that's a bit legthly and requires materials he can't get or keep for long, but he's very good at making baskets and the like! When the rest go to his cave, it's just full of woven items, including his attempts at weaving a freaking chair. Hyrule is going to become Pier 1

Sky writes poetry but never shares it with anyone. Groose used to laugh at it when they were kids, and so he's very self-conscious about it (and not very good anyways). He does come up with some really, really good pieces though from time to time!

Warriors couldn't read before he enlisted. He had to learn, and did learn rather quickly once he had to, but he still did very much not grow up with books. He is, however, very fond of oral tradition and somehow keeps a library's worth of knowledge in his head, since he never knew how to write it down before.

Warriors loves folk tails and will use any excuse given in order to share them with the younger ones

Wind is a very proficient mapmaker. he's terrible at drawing figures or anything, but he's very good at charting things out and putting them down on paper

Wind has a great eye for photography though! He and Wild sometimes play a game where they have to find a particular item and take a pictograph of it and then they'll have one of the others judge which one is better. Wild's candids are usually better, but Wind has a talent from framing and using the light to his advantage that outshines Wild's.

Wind likes composing little tunes with the Windwaker when he's bored. he has accidentally discovered several magical songs and their effects in this manner. Sometimes Time debates if just teaching his the Song of Storms from the get go would have been better in the long run, since it would have saved them getting soaked so much

Four has a fascination with artistic metalwork. He can't do it himself, and often times can't understand how someone thought up the idea in the first place, but it gives him great delight to see various metal pieces/tools/items forged together into the oddest art pieces

Twilight claims he's no good art of any kind, usually blaming "these darn big paws o' mine", but the secret is that he's a talented embroiderer, he just doesn't consider it "art" in the same way the rest do. Most Ordon folks add stitch-work to things so he considers it standard practice, not exceptional.

Sky is also very good at stitch-work of all kinds

When Sky and Twilight discover their shared skill-set, they absolutely use it for evil (start adding little patterns and things on their brother's stuff). Is this competitive? They're Links, you tell me!

Time claims not to be very creative, but he's actually quite good at art himself! Just drawing, as his paintings have a very childish sort of color combinations and the like, but he's surprisingly very good with shading and proportions!

All the boys play music, but Twilight's a good hand on the fiddle/violin (but only for short periods) and Legend has a surprising preference for the piano/organ. They'd make an excellent duet if they actually managed to know any of the same songs

Wild cannot and should not play instruments, Hylia help your ears if he does. He's also not that great of an artist (look for JoJo's comic of him drawing a new tapestry, it's hilarious). He likes the art the others make, but in general, the best he can do it just making designs and patterns that always seem to resemble Korok puzzles.

[poproccks]

John Dory Headcannons!

★ Glove is a compression glove for an old injury; a major burn scar that lines his fingers, palm, and paw pads on his left hand. (Inspired by @teaOwOstache’s comic – I am currently writing a one-shot for them based on their amazing comic.)

★ Has about an inch of white hair from the sheer power of Crimp’s vacuum. I, personally, believe that the vacuum’s power accelerated the talent-leaching tremendously and caused physical effects to show sooner. (Also shown on Bruce and Clay)

★ Various scars from his years of camping, foraging, cooking, hunting, and other things related to the nomad life.

★ He is the third tallest of his brothers, being almost the same height as Bruce. Second shortest of Brozone.

★ He was left-handed before the burn incident – and had to reteach himself how to write with his right hand instead since his left hand shakes too badly to write properly now. His handwriting, while improved, still isn't as good as it used to be.

★ Has nightmares occasionally like Branch. I like to imagine they bond slightly over that fact once they do get closer – obviously, it's still nothing like Branch’s and Floyd's relationship.

★ Building off the last point, JD tries not to feel too bitter about the close relationship they have. He realizes that the fractured relationships he has with all of his brothers are his own doing. He’s doing his best to get to know them all now and learn about their interests and hobbies. JD still walks on eggshells around them all about 60% of the time after a few more major blow ups between them. He is John Dory, however, so he still crosses lines many times by accident.

★ Thickest and fluffiest tail of Brozone (more of a general HC but, tail hair/fur can move like Troll head hair/fur.)

★ Very active, and regularly takes walks, runs, etc around Pop Village to keep up his fitness.

★ Found Rhonda when he was in his early 20’s and she was a much smaller bug bus. (Inspired by @ohposhers) She grew rather quickly after that and they became inseparable. John Dory handles all of her repairs and anything to do with her healthcare. He becomes very anxious when he has to pass that responsibility to anyone else. Branch took care of an ailing Rhonda once because he was the only one in the village with the needed materials and ingredients for the medicine. (“Who's crazy now? Me. Crazy prepared,) The dull-toned troll basically had to beat John off with a stick to get him to listen/let him help the poor bus, basically like a Helicopter parent. I genuinely believe without her, John Dory would absolutely crumble. Troll dust.

★ Stay’s in Branch’s bunker the most of the four others, besides Floyd who decided to move to Pop Village. When he’s feeling especially bad or wants to be alone, he will still retreat into Rhonda. She is basically an oversized security blanket.

★ Smells like either dust, fresh dirt, or rain. Definitely smells like something naturey. Branch smells like things similar, but it’s noticeably different.

★ Usually ALWAYS has something stuck in his hair or tail, no matter how small. Dust bunnies from exploring or helping clean, leaves, branches (ha), and other miscellaneous things.

★ Usually has the following in his hair pocket dimension; 2-3 bandaids, an extra glove, chapstick that he always loses, granola bars, and a small thing of water; just in case. Oh, and treats for Rhonda.

★ Carries an old family photo of his brothers and Grandma Rosiepuff from right after Branch hatched. His parents were also in it, but have long been torn out.

★ His goggles, past and present, were from his father (Also inspired by @teaOwOstache) and so he takes begrudgingly good and meticulous care of them.

★ Definitely a victim of parentification/older sibling syndrome. (I’m not projecting, you are.)

★ The order of brothers he bonds or reconnects with the easiest to hardest; Floyd, Bruce, Clay, Branch.

★ Suffers from aches and pains when it's cold or rainy out. He refuses to admit it is because of age.

★ Self soothes by pulling at his jacket, running his fingers along the zipper teeth, or adjusting his goggles when anxious.

★ If he doesn’t want to make eye contact or is crying or about to, he’ll pull his goggles on. It’s easier to hide than to explain. He gets better about talking about it but emotions are always a sore subject and difficult for him.

★ Like most Trolls, John Dory can hiss, growl, and purr.

★ Dark blue paw pads, with blunt nails with chipped polish.

★ When he went back to the troll tree pod, after mourning what could have been, he collected mementos of his brothers and his grandma; Branch’s old baby blanket, Floyd’s old plushie, Bruce’s old hoodie, One of Clay’s old books and a blacket Rosiepuff knitted long ago. They’re hidden in a box on Rhonda.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

Warning: Depictions of character death

[Image Description: A 4 panel colored Legend of Zelda AU comic  “Linked Spirit”. Panel 1: The Darknut's head is turned to the viewer, one eye and a splash of the dark purple ooze pouring out of the visor space. "HA ha ha I see you now" it says. Panel 2: Hero's Spirit, appearing as breath of the wild Link, looks disturbed and wide eyed. "Malice." Panel 3: The background turns black, and Hero, back in their green tunic, looks up at the Malice's giant yellow eye looming over them. "Killing the Hero again and again clearly doesn't work." It says "You must be destroyed" ('destroyed' is italic and bold). Panel 4: A glowing teal wheel with clipped scenes in each of in the 6 segments, each Link in the segments are colored in the same tunic colors as when Hero is shapeshifted as them. Hero's Spirit is in the center, curled up and clutching their hair. Their face looks fractured and generally featureless. The 1st segment features a hand reaching toward a blue ocarina, with Beast Ganon's hoof in front of it. 2nd segment Rinku is seen from behind a hand hovering over a headstone with the name "Link" in Hylian on it. 3rd Rinku sinking in water, indicated by small bubbles. 4th: Engineer sprawled on the ground, the pan flute in one hand, the Spirit of Healing hovering over him. Maladus's clawed paw beyond him. 5th: Hope hovering over his own body as a spirit 6th: Breath of the Wild Zelda (Bloom) holding onto Glider like within the Final Memory in botw. Under this segment, a ribbon like line turns into a glowing droplet. End ID]

masterpost

smh time travel makes the order of events so confusing sometimes huh?

First- Previous (30) - 31^ - Next (32)

[insideapollo]

Paw and Order 🐾 Riso Zine

Detective Alpha Fischer has just transferred to the K9-Unit and is running late on his first day! After picking up donuts on his way to the courthouse, he’s distracted by the beautiful Kitty Price at a coffee kiosk and crashes into him, knocking the lawyer’s cream out of his claws and tumbling into his arms! 😆

You can grab a copy on Nunar.Etsy.com or at NYC Flame Con in August! ٩( ᐛ )و

[thiccevangeline]

♡Summary:König was just a regular nobody to you until he started sitting next to you in science class♡

MDNI

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Uhmm,warnings are: blowjob,Virgin König x experienced reader,groping yk normal sht

Reader is plus size and black that eh neva goin an change 🇹🇹🇹🇹🇹🇹trini to do bone

♡ Nerd König who sits next to you in science class.

♡Nerd König who can't help but sneakily steal peeks at your cleavage even though he feels bad for doing so

♡Nerd König who gets nervous when you look at him thinking you caught him staring, when in reality you just wanted to ask him if he understood what the teacher said about some guy named Newton

♡Nerd König who nods in agreement dragging his book closer to yours ready to explain

♡Nerd König who doesn't realize you're not paying attention, too busy reciting the 2nd law of gravity to you while you stare at his big ,veiny hands ,one gripping the pen making it look comically small and the other flat on the table holding the book open,you wandered what else he could do with them............. maybe they could satisfyingly grope at your large plush titts,probably they could plant a heavy smack to your big, soft,thick, brown ass ,or painfully but pleasurably stretch your tight lil cunt open on his thick calloused digits,even flick the sensitive little nub or perhaps wrap around the whole expanse of your delicate neck giving a soft but sturn grip.......you bite you lips at the thought, rubbing you stocking clad knees together, soaking through your underwear and probably the ridiculously small piece of fabric you claimed to be a skirt which bearly covers your ass

♡Nerd König who realizes you were squirming uncomforta- bly asking if you were okay, the bell rang just as you nodded in response grabbing his hand; you both pick up your belongings and leave, you take note of how hot ,heavy and calloused his hand is

♡Nerd König who clumsily follows behind your smaller form,(now...you are not short by any means but this man's size is just ridiculous, inhumane if you will) having no clue of where you're taking him, he still just follows, you finally reach your dorm fumbling with the key to unlock the door revealing your unbelievably PINK room , he looked at what he could see,plushies,posters,furniture etc all PINK, you push him towards your bed and he off balances and falls flat on his ass on your soft mattress, he tries not to move around to much not wanting to mess up the perfectly fixed duvet

♡Nerd König who's eyes widen when he realizes that you were stripping ,you stood before him in your pink hello kitty print underwear set and knee high stockings that you bundled up at your ankles, you slowly gave him a 360 of your body turning again so your back was to him ,giving him a goooood view of that perfect ,plush , tatted ass that was greedily swallowing up that thong strap

♡Nerd König who's dick immediately started to harden at the sight,with a smirk on your face you backed up lowering your ass to sit on his wide spread lap purposely smushing his erection against your ass and his leg earning a surprisingly high pitched moan from him,you didn't expect it simply because of his share size but you liked it ,you found it cute, you then grabbed his hands placing them on your titts keeping your hand on his in order to guide him on how exactly to caress them,you groan at the feeling of his calloused palms pawing at your stiff ,clothed nipples,you also began slowly grinding your ass onto his lap, the feeling of his warm breath against your neck

♡Nerd König who starts rutting his hips into yours moaning and the grip he has on your titts tighten, panting harder and letting out a string of muffled moans,wanting to hear him better you crane your neck to face him removing his face mask,as he was about to protest you smash your slightly bruised glossed lips into his all the while still grinding on him , with the way his teeth clash with yours and he clumsy tries to suck your tounge;you could tell that it was his first kiss,a virgin, you thought

♡Nerd König who pants heavily after you break the kiss,still I disbelief that a girl as pretty as you kissed him,a girl as beautiful as you was on his lap grinding on him,he honestly could not believe it he honestly thought he was dreaming, what brought him back from day dreaming though is when he felt your hands paw at his zipper struggling a bit because of the length of your nails,you ask him " is this your first time big boy?" He responds with a bearly audible " ja", you nod knowingly pulling down his boxers to reveal his thick massive cock, you licked your lips at the sight of thick beads of precum dribbling out of his hole, you fisted him slowly with one hand staring at the foreskin rolling over the tip and with the other you fumbled his big heavy balls, at this point all the poor man could do was moan ,whimper and gently paw at you hands in attempt to stop you from jerking him off,all you did was coo at him ,telling him it was alright and that you were going to make him feel good,you brought your lips to his red swollen tip and gave it a few kisses and some kitten licks before you took him in you mouth hollowing your cheeks,gagging on half then stroking the rest with your hand

♡Nerd König who moans out begging you to stop because he said it feels weird "Oh mein Gott, bitte, bitte, ich ... ich fühle mich komisch, ohh" ( Oh my god, please, please, I... I feel weird, ohh) he writhes and whimpers begging you to stop while you mercilessly deep throat him ,he's so deep in your throat that your nose is smashed against his bushy pubes,you finally let up when you feel him grab onto your head and press down emptying his ridiculously huge load down you tight throat and you choke on it ,you remove your head to sit up and catch your breath, still coughing you look up at him who lays motionlessly on your bed breathing heavily muttering something incoherent between breath "danke, danke, danke," He then sits up "Ah Scheiße, geht es dir gut, Liebling?"( Oh shit,are you okay darling?),you stare at him a bit confused but with a smile,and he waves his hand in apology before saying "are you okay ?" He then looks at you as a way of asking if you understood what he said and you nodded in reply "are you okay? And he nodded as well, he helps you of the floor and you stand in front of him,he giggles at the fact that you're the same height as him even though he's sitting, you're quick to kiss him and he kisses you back, he breaks the kiss and removes his shirt; using it to wipe up the excess cum off your chin and chest,you smile at him and push your weight on him so he falls back on the bed,you both lay there,enjoying each other's silence ,soon enough you drift off

AN:soooooo it's my first time,don't come for meeeee😭😭😭but if you want to cum for me you can😏😏jk jk jk well,I hope yall enjoy 😉 😘 💖 and if any fellow authors read this gimme some feedback plsss it would be greatly appreciated 😊 ☺️ 😄 😘

@chrollohearttags @sincerlycas hey babes I'm new,but saw yall followed, yall are great writers btwwww💋💋💋love from Trinidad 🇹🇹 ❤️

[lxkeeeee]

FOX CHRONICLES [PART ONE]

synopsis: the fatui members never ever questions the harbingers—no matter how weird, how unusual, and how out of character for them or else they would be goners in a blink of an eye.

notes: fluff, slightly suggestive at the end. No smut.

The sixth harbinger—harbingers rather, for a long time the seat has always been occupied by two people—Scaramouche and his wife, [y/n]. Though, Scaramouche is the one who leads their faction of soldiers most of the time as [y/n] usually plays the role as his assistant.

The fatui soldiers made a silent agreement to never question the harbinger ways, especially the couple's relationship—as they never saw the two being so openly affectionate with one another. Some rumors say they were married for political reasons, some rumors also say that they never genuinely loved each other. They don't even know the story of how they got married.

That's what they think.

The scene is very comical if you ask me, fatui soldiers eyeing each other in attempt of communicating to each other as if asking if they saw what they're seeing.

Scaramouche stood confidently Infront of their soldiers, strong and powerful—his presence is enough to make the entirety of the fatui soldiers shake in fear, they're afraid of him and his sadistic tendencies and he knows it and he loves it. Scaramouche stood Infront of his soldiers, barking out remarks to his men.

The comical thing is, a certain harbinger lies comfortably on his shoulder. [y/n] now on her fox form, curled up comfortably on top of her husband's shoulder, her tail used as a pillow as she purred softly near his ear. Scaramouche occasionally bringing his hand up to rub her fox ears making her purr before bringing his hand down again and rested it on his hips.

“You pathetic fools! You had one job! And you fucked it up!” He says, voice seething and bouncing around their office inside the Zapolyarny Palace. His voice making their soldiers shake in fear. “I ordered all of you to keep an eye and watch the traveler and now you're telling me you lost her?!” he seethes, [y/n] just snuggling closer to his neck, her fluffy tail swinging back and forth in amusement.

“But Sir, we did try to keep an eye out on her but she just dis-dis-disappeared! She was just standing near the Statue of the Seven in Mondstadt and she just vanished into thin air!” a soldier stammers in fear, Scaramouche's eye twitched at the tone of the soldier's voice and his pathetic excuse. The air cackle with electro from his delusion, his fingers twitching with the urge to kill the man. “Do you think I'm a fool? Do you hear how idiotic you sound right now?” He seethes and the soldiers began to shake even more from the fear they felt. This is it, this is their doom.

[y/n] sighs before changing her position, now sitting comfortably on his shoulder. She brought her paw to poke her husband's cheek—causing him to flinch in surprise, he was about to go off but then realized it's his wife. His eyes soften and his anger slowly disappearing. He exhaled a tired and annoyed sigh, they talked about this—how he shouldn't let his anger cloud his judgement and make rash decisions. She need not to use her voice to remind him, her paw is sufficient enough to remind him. “Yes. I know, I know.” Scaramouche mutters in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring at his soldiers once more making them flinch in fear. “Whatever, all of you are dismissed. Leave before I changed my mind!” He barks angrily making the soldiers quickly left their office.

[y/n] chuckles as she jumps down from his shoulder, with a poof—she transformed back to her humanoid form. Scaramouche sighs and crossed his arms, “Happy now?” he asked and she giggles, “Very much, I'm so proud of you.” She said softly and Scaramouche closed the gap between them as he embraced her and bury his face at the crook of her neck—inhaling her familiar scent, cherry blossoms and lavender. His hands lazily tracing circles at her back. “Does the Balladeer want a reward for managing his anger?” she asked teasingly and he groans, “Shut up,” he mutters against her skin, “Affectionately.” he added, making her chuckle.

Scaramouche reluctantly left her embrace as he once again lean towards her and kisses her forehead, her fox ears folding against her head as he kissed her. His lips leaving her skin as he gazed at her with half-lidded eyes, placing a hand on her chin and pulled her towards him—pressing her lips against his.

A short and tender kiss is what they shared before parting away slowly, his hands cupping her face affectionately. “You know, I might as well accept your offer of rewarding my good behavior.” he says huskily, he could see her tail freezing in excitement before intertwining his hand with hers and pulled her towards their bedroom.

⊰᯽⊱┈──────────┈⊰᯽⊱

end notes:

I'll write more short fics of their moment with her in her fox form and also,

rabid anon I miss you 😔

sorry for being gone for a long time, I've been suffering with burnt out and with also with school

anyways, husband scaramouche is so Aaron Warner coded.

[2smolbeans]

Yandere Prompt:

Instead of it always being the darling figuring out the yandere's obession, what if the darling's friend/lover were to figure it out for them? What if the obessor is so well mannered, so normal around everyone that even the darling themselves never detected the mentally deranged behavior from their stalker. Leaving it up to their friend/lover who just watches in horror as they begin to notice the subtle manipulative advances that this 'stranger' has made in order to comfortably wiggle themselves into darling's life.

Bonus point:

The yandere begins to slowly reveal themselves out of frustration, their perfect mask slipping away when this lover/friend is able to convince the poor victim that they aren't what they seem to be. Eventually leading to the obessor to leave 'small' threats to the lover/friend's darling.

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Just an extension writing under the cut!

(Tags: dead dove do not eat, mentions of mutilated vermin, breaking and entering, this is just overall me practicing horror writing based on this prompt ^^)

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Exiting the subway station, Angelia cautiously made her way back to her apartment. Entering inside from the front door, she grabbed her keycard, scanning it to let her inside. Entering the elevator and then stepping out, she walked down the empty narrow halls. Her apartment, of course, was the last one all the way at the end of the hall. Nervously, she grabbed her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked her apartment door. Nothing, she looked at the dark apartment room and listened for any subtle noises. Nothing again. Laughing shakily out of relief, Angelia stepped inside.

Squelch.

She froze as she felt something squishy and mushy at her feet. She could hear the sound of small oozing coming from where she stepped. She could feel the slippery contents staining her sandals. Her heart started beating as she smelled the stench that was now infecting her apartment. The rotten, metallic, funky aroma that spun her head. Immediately gagging, she turned around to look for her lights, immediately panicking as she could now feel the chunky slime substance on her toes. Turning on the lights, she let out a scream as she gripped onto the wall.

Everywhere on the floor were dead, freshly killed, rats. Letting out repeated shrieks, Angelia cried out of disgust as she realised what she had stepped on. Shaking her foot to remove what filth she had stepped on, the orange juicy entrails wrapped around a part of her feet- she rushed towards the bathroom, avoiding all the dead rats that were littered on the floor. But upon entering the bathroom, she was hit with the disgusting stench of putrid vermin blood all over her painted walls. Looking at the bathtub, she couldn't surpress the automatic response to throw up as she witnessed what had been done. She didn't even have time to comfortably adjust herself somewhere as she hunched over, holding her stomach as she stood, spewing her stomach fluids all over the already rodent soiled floors.

It was almost comical as she looked at the amount of vermin that was stacked in the bathtub. A mixture of loose fur, flesh, and tiny paws all floated to the top of the tub that was filled partially with blood. With her eyes widened and adrenaline pumping through her vines, she clenched her chest as she looked at the wall that the bathtub was attached against. Clearly fresh and new, the letters dripped slowly against the wall.

"Next time, don't rat me out okay? Looove you Angie <3"

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(Pairing: Marco x Angelia x you)

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[rosenotactuallyquartz]

Hii!! I think I saw you asking for more pearlrose comic moments so I can give you a funny one: on issue #33 from 2019 Peridot accidentally gets Pearl hyperfixated on a fictional character in Camp Pining Hearts called Counselor....... Peony (very subtle) 😭 She was all judgy at first but the way her eyes SPARKLED when she saw the character... “I hate this kind of enterta-- pink?? lady?? say no more!!”

JUST LOOK AT HER. Her EYES. Get someone who looks at you the same way Pearl looks at her new beloved blorbo.

I love her so much.

another pearlrose moment from the steven universe comics, issue 33, 2019

thank you so much, i love this. i love pearl saying she was wondering when [penny] was coming back, because penny reminds her of rose. it almost seems like a subtle reference to love like you, but that’s probably just me. i also love pearl’s sassy side, and i love that we got to see that in the comic.

please feel free to send more pearlrose comic moments and i’ll share them here, with an image description ! also, gigi-mari, i think you’re the person who sent me an ask about it’s over, isn’t it. i’m writing a long post that answers another ask right after this, but it includes a part where your question should be answered because it has quotes from creators and everything ! but i am so sorry for the late responses, people. catching up on asks now after just personal things,, but they’re always open and i love asks so much

🩷

[image description: the first image depicts pearl standing in front of amethyst and peridot, who are sitting on a couch in the living room. amethyst says: “yo, pearl! come watch this show with us! this kid looks like he’s gonna blow up!” pearl sits down as the show from peridot’s tablet says, “one more,” and “percy, please!” and amethyst says, “he’s totally gonna hurl,” with pearl adding, “why did he eat all that pie? of course he’s going to be sick.” they all sit around peridot’s tablet, amethyst and peridot with excited expressions and pearl with a disgusted expression.

the second image depicts pearl saying, “i’m afraid i don’t see the appeal of watching a child gorge himself on dessert.” peridot says, “it’s not about that, it’s about campers and…” pearl interrupts her by saying, “wait, who’s that?” peridot says, “that’s counsellor penny.” on the screen is a woman with wavy hair resembling rose, a camp counsellor who says, “great work, everyone!” peridot says, “she’s one of the four supreme leaders of the camp, in charge of watching over everyone from the arts and crafts cabin to the dining hall.” pearl has stars in her eyes and her hand over her mouth, staring in adoration. peridot adds, “in season five, she—” but amethyst cuts her off with, “i like her shorts.”

the third image depicts pearl, suddenly very immersed in the show. the screen says, “i love you, penny! don’t leave the camp!” and penny replies with, “i’m sorry, patrick, but there are campers who need me out there around the world!” pearl says, “she’s so dedicated to her cause!” and peridot says, “according to the camp pining hearts online encyclopedia, she went to be on a season of paw and order, whatever that is.”

the fourth image depicts pearl and peridot watching the show as it’s gotten dark outside. pearl says she was wondering when penny would come back. peridot says, “but…”

the fifth image has pearl, amethyst, and peridot. peridot says, “so much more of the plot and story could be explored if they didn’t waste time on the romance! and it’s not even good romance! it’s all wrong!” and pearl agrees. the next panel has steven watching them as pearl says, “as a show so preoccupation with romance, it can’t seem to recognize how counsellor penny is much too good for a man like patrick. in the final panel, steven is smiling as he watches the three of them talk and laugh together as the show plays. end of image description.]