#self indulgent garbage

[amberesinite]

Okay! Panel 1 down, 7(?) more to go! Feat. the sketch of panel 2 for shits and giggles.

Song is G.I.N.A.S.F.S by Fall Out Boy because I'm an emo kid at heart

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・572 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kisses hehe, slightly suggestive

“See you tonight, angel,” Felix says, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. It’s chaste, short, familiar; your favorite form of farewell, exchanged inevitably before you part ways, even for only a few hours.

But this time, Felix doesn’t pull away afterwards, instead remaining so close to you that the tip of his nose is almost brushing yours, and there’s an ineffable glint in his eyes when he speaks again. (You should’ve known you were in danger.)

“Hang on,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet, and then he leans in again.

When he presses his lips to yours the second time, he moves with an intensity that you aren’t prepared for. You feel his fingers slide over the nape of your neck and tangle gently in your hair; your head tilts backwards from the weight of his kiss, his tongue feather-light against the seam of your lips, his mouth laving over yours as tenderly as if he’s trying to drink you, savor you. Dimly, you feel your waist bump against the kitchen counter, and Felix doesn’t even think when he moves a hand protectively to the small of your back, returning you to your rightful place against his chest.

You are breathless and lightheaded when your boyfriend breaks the kiss, his lips flushed and hair messy, looking like a walking dream.

“S'that a new lip balm flavor?” He asks.

Bastard.

You collect yourself just enough to give him an answer, but it sounds more like a blissful sigh than a spoken response: “Strawberry.”

The smile that crosses Felix’s face is mostly bashful, but you don’t miss the self-satisfied huff of laughter that comes with it.

“I like it,” he hums. “A lot.”

And he kisses you one more time, and then another.

He ends up being late to practice that day, his rushed apologies to Minho falling out of strawberry-tinted lips.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[dell2-dio]

Hello hi yes I am still continuing to be cringe but free. Might color this and add a third image later.

[kradogsrats]

The last time Lissa cries is in Katolis.

As she rides away, she feels as if she'll weep forever—tears she can't stop flowing down her cheeks, ceaseless and steady—but when she crosses into Del Bar, her face and eyes are dry. Her parents welcome her back into their home. Her siblings and their children turning out to comfort her. Lissa smiles and thanks them, lets them embrace her.

None of them say, I told you so. Not outright, at least. She can tell some of them are thinking it.

Doesn't seem all that broken up about it, does she? Not a single tear.

Shush—let the poor girl be. Not all pains can be wept over right away.

But when her mother falls ill, she doesn't cry like her sisters do. When they bury her—when her father, always mountain-strong, is reduced to gravel in his children's arms—she has no tears to shed.

Nor does she weep for her brother's son—young and bright and brimming with promise—dead the instant his horse throws him, his neck snapped cleanly. He'd planned to marry his sweetheart, in a year or two. There's a funeral instead, the other boy's anguished tears a river of grief.

Lissa still does not cry. No matter the sorrow, her eyes sit in her head like stones, hard and heavy. Dry as bone, even as her throat closes and her chest burns like her heart is on fire.

There are no tears from her even for her second sister's husband, a sailor whose ship never returns from its last journey through the spring storms. Her sister holds her own shattered pieces together for the sake of their small children, and the family rallies to support her with food and chores and company. They cry with her, late into the night—all of them, except for Lissa.

Cold as the heart of Hinterpeak, that one.

You're surprised? She married a mage, she was cursed from the start.

Then she abandoned her children in the snake's den, when she'd had her fill of him and his poison.

I suppose it takes a monster to love a monster.

What could she tell them—that Viren had meant no ill? That she'd been the collateral damage of a miracle, a negligible cost for saving a child from death? That her children were better served by staying with a father who loved them so fiercely than by their broken mother dragging them away?

That when he'd stumbled in half-mad, his face scarred beyond recognition, ranting and raving his demands that she weep to save their son, she had refused? That she'd feared what he might take from her, as if anything she possessed could be worth more than Soren's life?

That when his hand twisted in her hair and the cold glass pressed against her cheek, she cried not for Soren, but for the man she'd loved and the monster he'd become?

That, most of all, she had cried for herself?

She stays quiet, and does not cry.

Her father finally passes, never recovered from her mother's loss, and her brother approaches on behalf of the family. We love you, Lissy, you know that—but we think it would be best if you didn't come to the funeral.

Lissa's heart burns, her throat clenched tight against any protest, and she nods. She leaves that night, vanishing into the mountains. No one comes looking for her.

She settles outside a remote village, in a tiny hut halfway up the mountain, more a hunter's seasonal shelter than a house. She busies herself with survival—tends a garden, hunts and forages. Down in the village, she trades the pelts of what she can trap, and sometimes plays the decrepit, barely-tuned piano in the tavern for coins.

That's where she hears of the great march on Xadia. King Viren of Katolis, leading the united Pentarchy to end the threat of dragons for good.

Lissa returns to the tavern every day after that, desperate for more news—it's barely a week later when she hears he's dead, his army broken by an alliance between the elves of Xadia and those loyal to King Harrow's son. There is no mention of her children in any of the garbled rumors.

It's almost a relief, that she doesn't cry for Viren.

But Soren would be old enough to have joined the Crownguard, just as he'd always wanted. With two kings dead in such quick succession—first King Harrow, and then, somehow, his own father—could she even dare hope he still lives? And Claudia, so fascinated by magic, even when it tore their family apart—had she succumbed to all its dangers? Would Viren have let her walk a different path, if she chose?

She imagines going back, demanding to know what happened to her son and daughter—if Viren remained in a place sufficiently prominent to somehow become king, someone has to know. She imagines seeing them again, being able to run to them and take them in her arms. She imagines crying, then—a decade of stolen tears released in a flood of joy and relief.

Then she imagines their revulsion at the mother who left them, should she be unable to shed a single tear of grief or regret.

Lissa stops going to the tavern. Her heart burns as if its falling to ash.

She doesn't cry.

[calciferstims]

cozy jarthur self care kit 💛☕️

with subtle qpr themes bc they literally invented queerplatonic soulmates <33

for ME because I’m depressed as fuck rn and I can make whatever I want!!!!!

bracelet // sticker // enamel pin

keychain // sticker // keychains

enamel pin // knit blanket // sticker

[innytoes]

Happy Self Insert January, let Reggie pet all the dogs (and in this case, my dog Deeks, who thinks everyone should pet him anyway).

[bigoltrashpile]

A Shower of Kisses

I just....really wanted to wake Papyrus up by sucking his dick. Here's that. This is very silly and self indulgent but I don't care, I love him. Enjoy! Smut under the cut, minors go away.

You looked down at your sleeping boyfriend, smiling softly.  This was such a rare sight.  He almost always woke up before you, getting up at the crack of dawn to run every morning.  But today, you were up weirdly early.  Just one of those times that your body decided it was time to get up for no good reason.  But you weren’t complaining!

Papyrus was so beautiful.  The moonlight streaming in from the window lit up his bones, so he almost looked like he was glowing.  His usually intense expression was so relaxed.  His mouth was parted just a little bit.

Fuck he’s so hot.

You grinned and gently kissed his neck.  You just had to give him some love, even if he wasn’t conscious.  Carefully, you moved a bit lower, kissing his collarbone.  He was a very light sleeper, you had to tread with caution.  Thankfully, he wasn’t holding you to his chest tonight, he was instead sprawled like a starfish on his back.  Perfect for your plan.

After making sure he was still fully asleep, you moved to his ribs.  You knew they were sensitive, so you kept your touch feather light.  As you traced down his sternum with your fingers, a faint sigh escaped Papyrus’s mouth, but he didn’t stir.  You kept moving down his chest, your other hand gently running along one of his pearly ribs.  Papyrus made a few small gasps, and you grinned wickedly.

You pressed an open mouthed kiss to one of his ribs.

This time, a beautiful moan was your reward.  You almost never heard Papyrus moan!  During your times together, he was almost constantly talking, praising you and himself.  You paused to let him relax again before repeating the motion, using your hands again at the same time.

Another moan, this one louder.  Fuck, you should have set up a camera or something.  Even though you hadn’t been touched at all there was a heat in your loins.  You moved further down, kissing Papyrus’s spine.

He was definitely less asleep than he had been when you started.  His arms were stiffly searching for you, flailing sleepily around the bed.  His bony brows were furrowed.  You didn’t have much time before he woke up fully.

Gently, you moved the blankets away from Papyrus’s pelvis, and gently began to slide his shorts down.  He only slept in his underwear, which made your task very easy.  You grinned at the sight of his bare pelvis.  It was a beautiful piece of him, so complex in its structure, but so easy to make him fall apart.  You pressed another wet kiss to one of the crests as your hand started to gently explore the holes in his tailbone. 

As you did, orange magic slowly started to coalesce near the front of his pelvis.  You grinned.  Papyrus’s noises were coming faster now.  You redoubled your efforts, playing with the places you knew were most sensitive.  Finally, with a static snap of magic, and a full whimper from Papyrus, his cock formed.

You practically beamed.  Even while asleep, you could get him to form a cock for you.  That definitely made you feel special.  His dick was less detailed than it usually was, looking more like a dildo than an actual human penis.  But it was perfect.  Just like him.  Almost greedily, you kissed the tip of it.

“N-Nyeh,” a weak laugh came from above you.  You finally looked back to Papyrus’s face.  His eyes were open, still cloudy with sleep, but you could see the orange pinpricks in his sockets were brighter and fuzzier than usual.  “H-Having Fun?”

“So much fun,” you teased.  “You make the cutest noises~”  You gently began to move two fingers up and down his cock.  “Is this okay?  Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please,” Papyrus begged.  You smirked, before finally taking the tip of his cock into your mouth.

Papyrus almost threw his head back and shuddered.  Another delicious whine was your reward.  As always, his dick tasted delicious, like an orange creamsicle.  You let yourself enjoy the treat, popping it in and out of your mouth like a popsicle.  All the while, his cute little moans and gasps filled the air.

As you finally took a bit more of him into your mouth than usual, Papyrus let out a choked sound and tangled his fingers into your hair.  Papyrus didn’t use his leverage to force you down on him, he just seemed to be holding on for dear life.  You finally moved one hand into your own pants.  He was just so hot, you couldn’t help yourself!  

Well, if he was ready, you were too.  You finally let yourself go crazy, choking on his cock as far as you could manage, using your free hand to make up the difference.  Your tongue swirled around the head as you pulled back, enjoying the taste, before going further down.  Papyrus was getting louder and louder.  One of his hands was in his ribcage, stroking the back of his sternum.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck,” he moaned.  “I-I Love You, Ngh, Please!”

Who were you to deny such a pretty request?  You grinned up at him with just your eyes.  You breathed in deep through your nose, before finally taking him all the way to the base.

Papyrus practically screamed.  He bucked up into your mouth, but your hand on his pelvis kept him from breaking your nose.  He shuddered, bones rattling, before he finally came.  Thick, warm ropes of cum shot down your throat, but you stayed where you were, keeping him as stimulated as you possibly could.

You finally pulled away, giving him one more harsh suck, just to watch your boyfriend twitch.  Papyrus seemed spent, once again flopped on the mattress, chest rising and falling quickly.

“Oh My God,” he panted.  “I Didn’t Know Waking Up To A Shower Of Kisses Would Be So Fun!”

You giggled.  Your voice was a bit hoarse, but you felt just fine.  You moved back up next to him and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thanks baby.  Sorry, I probably should have asked you first, but-” “Don’t Be Sorry!  This Just Gives Me An Excuse To Get Revenge~” Papyrus grinned wickedly back at you, and you felt a thrill go down your spine.  The thought of waking up to him between your legs, his tongue exploring you-

“W-well,” you squeaked.  “I look forward to it!”

“Nyeh Heh Heh, Don’t Worry, You Won’t Have To Wait Too Long,” he winked.  Suddenly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back on top of him.  “Now, I Don’t Think You Came Earlier, And What Kind Of Partner Would I Be If I Left You Unsatisfied?”  His cock was already hard again, poking your ass through your pajama pants.

“H-ha, I should wake you up like this more often!” you joked as your boyfriend practically tore your underwear off of you.

“Yes You Should, My Love!  But Now It’s My Turn, And I’m Not Stopping Until The Sun Comes Up!”

As he began to push into you and set a harsh pace, you knew he wasn’t lying.  You made a mental note to wake up earlier.  This was the best way to start your day!

[amberesinite]

I was inspired by @vavoom-sorted-art and @gleafer 's Good Omens angst war, so... Here we go, I guess ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Hopefully it will be finished by the end of the week.

Yes, I did shamelessly trace Jimbriel's room from the scene where he's playing with the lamp, why do you ask?

[lieutenant-amuel]

Replaceable

Summary: Emilio’s stance on friendship.

Word count: 646

————————————————————————

Emilio was sitting at the desk in his classroom. He didn’t have a class at the moment which meant he could spend his time all alone.

Just him and his thoughts.

He propped up his cheek, twirling a wallet in his hand. A wallet meant to be a gift for Valerio on his birthday. A wallet decorated with patterns that resembled the fire flames.

Emilio dug his nails into the leather of the wallet, furrowing his brows as he bared his teeth, and sharply loosened his grip.

Fire flames.

What was he thinking?!

How could he forget?!

Emilio threw the wallet away and put his hands on his head, clutching his hair almost as tightly as the leather. Every story, every smallest detail Valerio shared with Emilio ever since they became friends was crucial. Emilio couldn’t let himself forget anything.

How could he call himself a friend otherwise?

Emilio raised his head and got up from his seat, passing between the rows in the classroom. He spent ten years of his life in this very classroom, listening to Señor Murillo as he conducted literature classes. It was one of the few places where he was safe because every time he crossed the threshold and found himself in school corridors he felt like he was falling into the abyss.

All those people who always walked in pairs or larger groups chatting and laughing. All those people who passed by him as if he was invisible. He would raise the collar of his shirt and hide his face, approaching the quietest corner of the school. The corner where he would be all alone.

Just him and his thoughts.

You don’t need friends.

As his grandfather always told him.

You don’t need friends.

As his grandfather always encouraged him.

You don’t need friends.

As his grandfather let him know he was better than everyone who had ever turned their back on him.

Emilio would sit on the windowsill every school break making notes in his notepad. He would occasionally raise his head to look at other people and then at his shadow. Faceless and lifeless.

But it was always there.

Unlike everyone he ever dared to call his friends.

Emilio stopped in the middle of the classroom and took out his pocket watch. Most of the time he opened it not because he needed to know the time. He looked at the portrait of his family. The only people who loved him. The only people who made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

He couldn’t recall how he and Verónica got close. He could only recall a sense of dread looming over him like a shadow that accompanied him all those years. It was the fear of ruining everything, and it had never left him.

But Verónica wasn’t about to leave either. By this day it was beyond Emilio’s comprehension why she fell in love with him. With someone so aloof and arrogant. But he never asked her that ever since they got married. His pride didn’t let him question his own worth.

They don’t deserve you.

As his grandfather always told him.

They don’t deserve you.

As his grandfather always encouraged him.

They don’t deserve you.

As his grandfather let him know he was better than everyone who had ever turned their back on him.

Emilio approached the desk and took a seat, twirling a wallet in his hands again.

Valerio was nothing like Verónica. He was no different from all the traitors he had known.

He had to earn his friendship if he wanted him to view him as his equal.

He had to show him how special he was if he wanted him to acknowledge him.

He had to break into his life and become an integral part of it if he wanted him to never abandon him.

He had to prove that he wasn’t replaceable.

[gunstellations]

"お前は失ってばかりじゃねえ"

"you haven't only received loss"

[mixingpumpkins]

Ah, yes, the bi- to triannual "every fucking thing in the world is due/is happening this week, time to suddenly fully outline a new novel and write 20,000 words of it in two days"

Why is the timing of my muse such a fucking bitch???

[aliceisaperson]

YouTube keeps feeding me ads for self indulgent garbage stories on Wattpad and webtoons and like okay… youtube if theres one thing you should know about me is I READ MY SELF INDUKGENT GARBAGE IN AO3 GOD DAMMIT AND I WILL TIL I DIE GIVE ME AO3 OR GIVE ME DEATH

[intervalart]

good morning

[mistermalaprop]

(audio on; subtitles in video. tw for flashing flights and lots of glitching. this vid is fast paced and shaky-- i'm relearning my old editing style yippee....)

very self-indulgent skybound cliffjumper edit for the angst bc i've come to terms with that he's among my favorite characters... and has some of the best expressions alongside elita one--

i hope more bad things happen to him

[orionauriga]

quantum immortality

the umbrella academy | five-centric s4 fix-it | 5k words | gen

“Be realistic,” Booth Five says. “It’s time you face inevitability. The rest of us have.” “No,” Five snarls, appalled at the words and doubly so to hear them in his own voice. “You know who you sound like? The Handler.”

In Max’s Deli, Five comes to a different conclusion.

-----

tldr: five hargreeves fucking loves and would do anything for his family and he would not lay down and die when told there's nothing he can do to save them.

[kuchipark]

guys, does anyone know of any long well-written daryl/reader fanfics that are finished or at least get updated regularly? I’m struggling so hard to find any well written ones.