#solstice guys

[splasharooni]

More Hypos from Earlier this year! -AvalancheMouse: Avalanche belongs to @clockworkcleomain -BlueMouse: Blue belongs to @flyhiss -JuniperMallow: Mallow belongs to @scatteredartistry

[prince-sawgrass]

dancin!

ft @junkfood-jester’s garnet and gale :D

[copypastus]

Y'all are just mean.

[luminousstardust]

something so special and heart-wrenching about caleb having the Wish spell and once again holding the power to try and rewrite what happened to him in the past in his hands but instead of going back to save his old family he uses it to protect his new one in Luc 🥺

[fruttymoment]

OneShot truly has unforgettable characters <3

[arden-wings]

this image is once again relevant. stay strong esseknation

[gaygraviturgist]

the critical role live show was fucking amazing

[revvethasmythh]

still thinking about "I've been struggling with the blood in my eye for a few weeks now. I've never been so fucking angry" because fuck yes, Orym. He's been able to stay even keel--admirably so--for most of the campaign, but seeing him put his foot down and get angry, as he rightly should be, post-solstice? cathartic.

[gbiechele]

Winter Solstice

Minolta MD 50mm f/1.2 Sony A7

[jazzapples3]

Jester out here throwing Artagan in battle like its fucking pokemon

[ask-oneshot-solstice]

INTEREST CHECK!!!!

i have no idea if anyone remembers this blog, but would people be interested in seeing it active in 2024?? oneshot fandom?? are we still kicking???

originally i wasn't really confident enough in my art skills to keep the blog going + i lost interest in oneshot, but now i'm BACK and i like oneshot again and i need to force myself to draw more soooo... yay or nay on the ask blog?

[aulerean]

me when I listen to Wading in Waist-High Water by Fleet Foxes

[winterswaves]

that man fucks like a god…

NSFW MDNI

zhongli x reader

as he should, his years of experience should come to use. he did not live through eras without retaining anything from his past relationships. as if he has spent all those years just to learn how to please you. zhongli loved you with his entire being, and he never fails to show you that; he loved the way his big hands ran through every curves of your body. they were hot against your skin, despite being a cold-blooded dragon, his touches were warmer than the heat of the summer. where he'd pull you back in bed, refusing to let you leave because how else would he kiss every part of your soft skin?

mornings with you were... interesting. as romantic as nights could be, he surely loved seeing the sunlight hit your skin during the day. with the way his cock drags in and out of you, zhongli enjoys every detail of your pleasure; the sounds you let out for him, your cunt dripping with both your own slick and his cum, you were squeezing him so hard he could come inside you again and again until you become cumdrunk.

adding to his excitement is the fact that your neighbors should be awake at this hour, they'd probably hear you, wouldn't they? how you'd call for his name repeatedly as his cock hits your deepest spots. you sounded ethereal. to him, your moans were like a mantra, further enabling him to let go of everything that has been holding him back.

when he's close, he'd pant with his forehead pressed against yours, letting you know how good you are making him feel. like a true gentleman, your pleasure brings him his, and he only gets off when you do. he cums so deep inside of you, you swear you could see stars because he doesn't stop at that.

you made him into one greedy god, he can never have enough of you.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #22

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: self-deprecation

The days were getting shorter and colder, which meant the solstice was soon. Which meant solstice parties.

His old master locked him in the closet those nights, so he’d be out of the way. He could hear the drinking and the party games and presents being unwrapped from behind the door.

It meant messes, and it was always his job to clean up in the morning after the guests were long gone.

But this year, he could tell from Master Ambrose’s excited chatter that he wouldn’t be put away for the party. 

“It would be nice if you’d join us,” he’d said, “I know you don’t like talking to others, but just consider it, alright? You can always go upstairs if it’s too much.”

That was fine. He could talk. How hard could it be, right? 

The really hard part was finding a present for Ambrose. Everyone at a solstice party got a present. And he didn’t know anyone except Master Ambrose. It would be rude not to give him something.

He even had the money to buy a gift. But what?

Ambrose had a lot of books. Elliot wasn’t sure he’d be able to get one that Master didn’t already have.

Master Ambrose was running low on incense for his altar, but he’d hadn’t been praying much lately. It would be a bad gift.

Maybe a teapot? Or a kettle? Master liked tea, but didn’t have either one. He used a pot on the stove for one cup at a time. It was silly to think Elliot was smart at all, but surely it would be better to make lots of tea at once? He drank so much of it.

Both, then. Something pretty; dark blue to match his favorite mug.

Elliot went to put the broom away. He liked thinking when he swept. But sweeping time was over. Everything was clean from top to bottom. 

Well, except for Master’s room and all the laundry. He still wasn’t really allowed to clean up there, or wash any clothes. He wondered a little about that. Not that it was any of his business, but laundry was boring and he couldn’t see why Master insisted on doing it himself when he had a slave who could.

Right, thinking time was over. 

He glanced out the window. It wasn’t snowing, but it had last night and the pristine white still lay on the ground. 

Elliot hated snow. Ambrose had told him that there was probably going to be snow either on the ground or in the air all winter. Gross.

He’d have to go out into it. Walk into town, find the general store that was full of solstice goods, buy the kettle and teapot, and walk back. In the cold.

In the cold where he could freeze to death or lose fingers or toes or get horrifically sick again. And Master wouldn't have his solstice present and would have a body to bury. If he was worth burying.

Master had said he was proud of him. That he was getting better. Elliot didn’t feel brave, but if Ambrose said it, it must be true. Would he be even more proud if he had gone out into the snow?

Either way, next year he’d go buy the present before the cold came. If Master Ambrose still had him by next year.

Elliot trudged upstairs and gathered the loose pile of gold coins he put in his sock drawer. He placed them into the pouch of his belt, one by one, trying to delay going out. Unfortunately he only had so many coins, and the snow was still there. 

Elliot chewed the inside of his cheek. He pulled the heavy coat from the wardrobe and wrapped it around himself. He yanked on his boots and tugged on the gloves and mittens Katie made for him.

He thudded downstairs a little, unused to the weight of wool. But he made it out the door, and it wasn’t… so bad.

Okay it was awful, but Master needed a solstice gift. 

He walked down the road, avoiding the slush on the ground. His boots were leather and waterproof but he didn’t like risking it.

The snow was pretty, even if it was horridly cold. He paused to look at the untouched fields and branches of evergreens. They were so white and the light sparkled off the icicles.

If only snow came in a warm version.

He wanted to take in a little more of the view, but he could feel eyes on him. Staring. 

It was a small town and he was still a stranger here. Maybe the solstice party could change that. 

Best to move on anyway.

He came to the store quickly enough. The window was decorated in evergreen and paper flowers that mimicked spring plants. Candles too, but they were unlit.

The whole point of the solstice was to coax in spring and give presents and throw parties to keep people happy through the empty days of winter. Spring would come no matter how many paper and fabric flowers people made, but the fun was nice. Or so he heard through the closet door.

He browsed through the aisles, looking for the kitchen items among the bits and bobs of toys and fancy things.

Elliot wasn’t sure if the party would work on him. Nothing much had ever made him happy. 

He looked at the funny bottles of perfume. All perfume bottles were strange to him. Just be normal glass bottles instead of in the shape of bows or shoes or stars. Weird and impractical.

“Hi, can I help you find something?” 

“Oh. Um,” Elliot turned to find the voice. A woman with graying brown hair smiled at him. “Hello.” 

Maybe making conversation would be harder than he thought. 

“Uh, where are the tea sets?” 

“Right over here.” She led him to the next aisle over, and sure enough it was full of ceramics.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Are you getting some solstice shopping done?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I’m buying Mas- I mean, Ambrose, a teapot. He doesn’t have one.”

“Ah, I know Ambrose! You must be Elliot, then. I’m Judy. Don’t worry, I'll keep quiet about your gift,” she winked. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” A thought nagged at him. “But, um, how do you know my name?” 

“You know us old folks, we like to talk.” He shifted, uncomfortable.

“All good things, hun,” she reassured. “But I’ll let you get back to your shopping. Happy Solstice!”

“Happy solstice, ma’am.” He waited until Judy left to wrap his arms around himself. It really was hard to talk to people. Being quiet was just so easy. Too easy.

If he wanted Ambrose to be proud of him, he’d have to work harder at it.

He looked at the rows of cups and sugar bowls and creamers and more. Teapots were right at eye level thank goodness. He was too small for things on the top shelves.

They came in many patterns. Mostly flowers and landscapes, occasionally birds and buildings.

Too fussy for Ambrose. He liked the roses and gold pattern, but that was a whole set. He just needed the pot.

Only a few of them were solid colors. 

There was plain white, red, black, green, and blue. The blue didn’t match the dark mug that Master favored. It would clash.

Elliot worried his lip.

Black maybe? No, that would be hard to see in the early mornings and late nights. 

Red didn’t seem like it would go well with the rest of Ambrose’s things. 

White or green?

Green or white?

Which one would make Ambrose happy?

White went with everything, he decided. It could always be painted if Master Ambrose hated it. He’d get a kettle too, just to be sure.

He turned to see a selection of kettles. That choice was easy, they were all copper. He picked up the one with the elegant spout, and got the teapot from the shelf. Cradling it in his arms, he carefully picked his way through the store.

“Would you like these wrapped?” asked Judy at the counter.

“Yes, please, ma’am.”

Judy pulled two boxes from under the counter. She lined the first box with paper and cloth scraps. She gently laid the pot down, removing the lid to stuff balled up paper inside. Judy put the ceramic lid on upside down, and the box’s lid fit snugly over it. 

The kettle didn’t need nearly as much care.

After, she pulled a pretty patterned paper down from a roll attached to the counter. It was green with white dots for the holiday. 

Judy was precise with the paper, none of it was wasted. She tied both boxes with twine, a pretty bow on top.

It seemed like a lot of work, but it was for Ambrose after all. He deserved it.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome sweetie. Stay warm!” She waved as he left.

Elliot liked Judy. Maybe she’d be at the party. That’d be nice.

He made his way home, the boxes heavy but his heart lighter. 

Ambrose smiled at him as he walked in. “What have you got there?” he nodded at the boxes.

Elliot grinned at him and said nothing. He knew Master was kidding. Ambrose shook his head.

“I guess I won’t tell you about your present,” he joked, “Your loss.” He turned back to his book.

Elliot hid the boxes in his wardrobe. 

He was definitely looking forward to the solstice party.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes

[hazzabeeforlou]

The Garden Part 3

By Throwthemflowers  13k   Explicit

“Look, I meet a lot of people, okay? And I know you from somewhere and it’s driving me insane. Just tell me, please, where we met, what happened, if we—”

“Well we didn’t fuck,” Louis blurts out, accidentally meeting the other man’s eyes as the last word leaves his lower lip. Harry stares towards the waning sun without responding, so Louis adds, “You might not, but I’d remember.”

Harry’s breath catches, a nudge of sonic encouragement for Louis to slide his hand along the railing until their pinkies touch. But a shock jolts through them at the contact, stronger than the common charge of unreleased static. Louis jumps slightly but Harry pulls away, cradling his affected hand, his green eyes wide.

In this final installment of The Garden series, Louis gets stuck on an island with a man who hates God, and doesn’t like him much better.