#sorry it’s been so long 😭😭😭

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[spaciebabie]

Where did we go? What did we do? I think we made something...entirely new....

some closeups under cut :)

and here's the first image w/out text :)

im normal. su makes me feel so normal

[nailsinmywall]

Maeglin in gondolin (and curufin laughing at eol)

[mayf1owers]

In their own words

-> Quotes aren’t strictly in chronological order

-> All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead, and in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend. - Fall Out Boy

[touyaz]

hunger & holes

pairing itoshi rin x fem reader

word count 1.1k

notes alt title: naga rin supremacy master's thesis

WARNINGS oral (f rec), sacrilege (a little bit. for the imagery. for the desperation.), so so so much biting (it's him. it's me. it's needed.), a little bit of blood (because of the bites), he holds reader up against a wall, a fair amount of him wanting to eat you up (you're welcome <3), no pronouns for reader.

MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

+

"rin, wait," you gasp, helpless to the way he shoves you up against the wall. you push at his chest, hands slipping over his sweat-soaked shirt. "wait a sec—"

"quit it," he rasps, mouthing at your neck. he nibbles at your bare skin as he forces your hands away, pinning them beside your head. you can't focus on the softness of him lacing his fingers with yours when his teeth are sharp, persistent, a heated ache lingering as he moves a breath away only to sink into you again. "you're getting in my way."

he'd been clawing at your body impatiently on the ride up here, but you thought he had enough self-control to get to the bedroom where it's comfortable—

but he's just won the cup final.

it was a grand affair: a five-nil win where he scored a hat trick, where he was named man of the match, where he got to kiss a shining trophy and prove to the world that he's an unparalleled striker. the adrenaline still races through his veins, bold, fiery, and he can't stop leaning into you, moulding you under the heavy weight of him.

tonight, he's a winner, taking home all the glory, taking all that he can get his greedy, greedy hands on.

"bedroom—" you try to get out, but it spirals into a pained moan when he digs his teeth into you, canines cutting into your marrow, so you're messed and jagged and incomplete without him. you think his fervour has you bleeding for him and he licks your wounds like an addict.

"can't—" he grits out. "can't wait. can't get enough of you."

he nips along the delicate slant of your neck where your body yields to his without fight. you whimper his name and he delights. you squirm beneath him and he growls, hooking your flesh between pinched teeth. you bleed for him and he follows with his tongue, eagerly drinking it all up.

"gotta have you," he grunts, pulling away from your aching neck. cold air stings the bites, making you cry out for him. he distracts you from the pain easily, reeling you into a bruising kiss. "now," he pants before diving in again, mouth overbearing, teeth all-consuming.

his tongue lashes against yours wickedly; there's no method to his madness, just the irresistible taste of his spit and your blood swallowed in an unholy union. he speaks in half-thoughts and shredded moans and hasty hands that yank your pants down. and you hang onto his words like they're godsent — the swift, "want a taste," the desperate, "need you in my mouth now," the promised, "gonna fucking eat you."

and maybe that's what they are — divine revelations — because he kneels before you like the messenger of all blessings, hands clasped around your legs so you depend solely on him, nails delving into the pliancy of your thighs, so you follow no one but him.

"don't move," he commands, voice low, husky. 

it'd be blasphemous to do otherwise.

his mouth fleshes out holy scripture in your body; indents and saliva and the faintest traces of your blood smeared across your inner thigh all tell the tale of his near-godly desire to have you falling apart for him. "fuck, i'm gonna— mark you up. all mine. take it all—"

but then his tongue snakes further up and the coil in your stomach pulls painfully taut. he's so wet, so warm, guzzling your sin like a false prophet, high on the ecstasy of lust.

"give it to me," he demands, urging your hips forward, opening his mouth wide to devour you.

it's messy. slick sounds form a hymn as he drags his tongue across the length of your slit. a guttural moan escapes him, cutting through the lewd slurps and it has your knees buckling, more than ready to serve him in any way he wants, sinner or saint or starver.

"it's not enough. need more. more. not fucking—" he growls, squeezing the fat of your thighs. his words are scorching, making you leak right into his mouth. there's no time to be embarrassed when the edges of his lips crook upwards, a dirty smirk wet with your purity. "there it is. that's it," he goads, wrapping his lips around your clit to coax more arousal out of you. he hums around the bud and you slide down the wall, grasping at his hair for some kind of stability. he doesn't even feel how hard you're yanking the strands, numb to everything but the weight of you on his face. "don't stop," he insists. "give me more, give me everything."

your thighs are screaming in protest and he must feel their trembling because in the next moment, he's hauling your legs over his shoulders, folding his arms over the tops so he can squeeze his hands at your apex.

"wanna feel you. around… need you—" you don't know what he's saying. you don't even think he's speaking to you, talking right into your cunt, instead.

you feel weightless, breathless.

then he uses his thumbs to spread your folds, sinking his tongue into your dripping hole, and suddenly everything is too much.

your words slur together. you're sobbing his name and cursing through gritted teeth and praying for your release to come soon. "oh, god— please, rin, please. i can't— can't— rin!"

his drool soaks the bottom of his face and it sticks to the wetness on your lower half; his thumb circles your swollen clit in time with the flicks of his tongue; it isn't longer until that coil finally snaps and you cum with a loud cry of his name.

and he's there — devotee, degenerate, desperate — sticking his tongue out to drink whatever you give him. he's greedy, selfish. he's been hungry his entire life, looking for something to swallow, to make him feel whole.

and you're sweet to him, he realises, laving over the cream that wets the crease of your thigh. you feed him something he never knew he was thirsty for.

but an addict doesn't stop after one high.

"again."

a winner is never satisfied with just one trophy.

"give me more. i need more."

and a man with a hole inside of him can't rest until he's found something to fill it up with.

"gonna take everything you have. 'til there's nothing left. can't stop— won't stop. gotta devour you."

[yakny]

COME ON BABY, DON'T FEAR THE REAPER

[thetopichot]

My roman empire is the fact that Auron legit KILLED Derek by fucking BEATING the absolute SHIT outta him then straight NAILED THAT MOFO ON THE DESK & then straight up went on a date afterwards & had the most heartwarming moment ever with Rook. I know that's not much, but I think about that shit at LEAST once a month.

[captainfern]

why is writing a 4x1 porno fic so difficult

like atp there’s too much fucking dick 😭

[stuffeddeer]

DEEEER happy (late) new year 🎊

i been so busy with work 😭 hope you're resting well!

been thinking about dazai lately as i usually do, he would be such a fucking pain in the ass if you gave him a drawing (if you gave a mouse a cookie style LMFAO)

it doesn't even have to be anything good, just some stupid doodle of a cat, and then he pesters you every day for a new drawing just for him

oh GOD and if you actually draw as a hobby? INSUFFERABLE, he'd probably dig through the trash for your discarded drawings or smth (smfh this man) and then complain cause why didnt you show HIM first instead of wasting perfectly good paper!

lol this is so stupid 💀

anyway byee -🩵

I’M SO GLAD YOU MENTIONED IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT.

Your face scrunches up as you stare down at the corner of your paper. Would it be weird to give this to him? The last thing you want is to be perceived as some weird stalker, and you know he'd find a way to tease you for this. But... is throwing it out worse?

"Hey, Yosano," you tapped her on the shoulder before taking a seat on one of the medical cots she was working near. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot," she speaks listlessly, continuing to clean up the many medical papers littering her desk. It's not that she's uninterested, just a little out of focus.

There's a clear hesitation, causing the doctor to spin and look at you. Fiddling with the torn paper in your hand, you sigh. "This is probably weird, but, I drew Dazai."

"Don't see how that's weird," she replies, an amused smile on her face at your awkwardness.

"Well, I doodled him, I should say. Just in the margins of my r-report— " that you tore up. Oops. " —because he was across from me. And I could just throw it away, but I could give it to him. Would he think I'm a total creep if I offered it up..?"

And after a pep talk from Yosano, you found yourself standing beside Dazai's desk. His eyes lit up, having already noticed long before you had even registered it that you were drawing him. Everyone at the Agency was aware of your hobby, a few members having taken small doodles in the past, and Dazai was excited it was finally his time.

— that, along with your continued glances between him and your page earlier made it obvious it was him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asks slyly, his tone higher pitched than normal and mischievous. "Are you visiting little ol' me just to say hi?"

"Not quite. I drew this, if you want it." Trying to swallow your awkwardness, you hold out the paper scrap to Dazai. For a small sketch, it was surprisingly detailed. So this is how you viewed him, hm? He'd always known he was pretty, but...

"Is it possible to fall in love with myself?"

You choke back a laugh. "Alright, Narcissus. I'll take that to mean you like it?"

Dazai nods happily, jumping from his chair to rest his body weight onto you. "More more more! Please? Next do us together! Or even us kissing," he wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

The laugh finally bubbles over as your hands rest on Dazai's sides. "Get back to work! Or Kunikida will stop letting me draw at work, and then you'll have nothing."

"So that means if I stop, I'll have more?" He grins, his face close enough to yours to make you stumble back.

"Do you have to be so close? You're so clingy," you mutter, still holding his sides to keep him from coming closer. "If you get off, I'll consider supplying you with more doodles. Maybe."

And Dazai immediately jumps off of you and back to work.

[ghost-proofbaby]

hey y’all!

so i’ve been considering this a lot in the past few weeks, and figured i’d make an official post so you all know i’m alive and what not since i have been very much inactive as of recently.

i’m taking a break.

not forever! not because of anything in the fandom! this break is solely due to personal life reasons and the fact i just can’t be as active on here right now between my jobs and personal affairs. and it also won’t be long — i’m going to be off here probably through the end of november. if i have the time/mental capacity to come back before then, i absolutely will 🖤 but right now, tumblr isn’t something that fits easily within my days and also, writing for my fics hasn’t been something i can easily do not due to lack of inspiration but lack of time.

again, this is just due to my own personal life currently. nothing happened in the fandom that motivated this decision (i honestly don’t even know what’s happening on here currently solely because i haven’t had the time to scroll lol) and it’s very much not permanent, and will HOPEFULLY be very short. like i said, until the end of november. i’ll still be writing in my free time, and my hope is to be able to update fics once i’m back and worse better than ever! 🖤

see y’all in december <3

[livsmessydoodles]

thinking about this scene today

this scene alone convinces me that byler is endgame bc you cannot make will actively say that hes not gonna fall in love and then write a whole plotline abt him being in love with mike.... just for it to not be reciprocated???

will is the only party member who's completely unexperienced with romantic relationships, which of course has to do with the fact that he's gay in the 80's, but this is a TV show. all of this is fictional so they can take whatever route they want with these characters, and making will continue to stay alone and suffer through unrequited love would be awful storytelling, especially when people claim that will moving on from his feelings would bring character development and growth.

wills feelings for mike arent there just to "show his growth". weve seen this kid go through hell and back yet even with everything kicking him down he stays strong and kind. hes the most selfless character in the show and always puts others needs before his own. in s4, they put a lot of emphasis in these character traits of his, and they're always picturing his love for mike as something selfless and pure.

now if his feelings are not reciprocated, how does this teach will a lesson that leads to character growth?? he already doesn't expect anything. life has shown him time and time again that he always gets the short end of the stick, why would he think this is any different?? making him have feelings for his best friend just to get rejected would just be a nail in the coffin, reaffirming to him that no matter what hes not worthy of ever getting what he wishes. this isnt character growth at all.

but if his feelings ARE requited, that gives us a twist to the story we havent seen. we would get to see actual growth for will, him learning to give himself value and realize that he DOES deserve happiness!! instead of leading into the expected spiral of bad things keeping up the consistency with everything else that has happened to will so far, finally giving him one good thing leads to us seeing a shift in his whole nature, and wed see him dealing with things he hasnt dealt with before!!! GROWTH!!!

besides why would they make such an intricate complicated storyline.... just to lead to a rejection we all saw coming? the GA expects him to get rejected. his feelings not being reciprocated would not be any surprise. but twisting those expectations in a way to shock the GA AND give wills character the happiness he so deserves after being through so much..... now THAT would be world shattering and a satisfying ending to both the viewers and will himself!!

this scene establishes a clear subversion trope, making us aware of how will believes he's never finding love, just for the show to later on subvert expectations and reward will with the love he deserves and never thought hed get🫶

[led-bloody-zeppelin]

decade accurate marauders era wardrobes - remus lupin

hair: black, coily, and styled into a short afro/brown, mid-length and curly.

i personally hc remus as black so i typically imagine him wearing his hair in an afro as it was popular amongst black people at the time.

i see canon remus as having a hairstyle more like the one on the right.

clothes: consist of earthy tones such as brown, green, yellow and red. stripes and plaids. knitwear, corduroy, and cotton blends. shirts, vests, sweaters and flannels.

while 70s fashion is typically associated with bright colors and flashy designs, casual clothing made with earthy tones and natural materials such as wool, wood, and cotton were also very popular.

the notorious avocado greens, harvest golds, coppertone oranges, and burnt siennas that are synonymous with the 70s functioned as a sort of knee jerk reaction to the psychedelic color palette of the 60s and its equally as wild politics that eventually carried on into the 70s. people developed a sort of anxiety towards the experimental and spontaneous nature of the times and instead yearned for more simplicity, stability, and comfort in their lives which they found in crafts like knitting and crocheting.

perhaps someone better spoken than me can articulate my point better but i feel like this somewhat parallels remus and his place in the wizarding world. wizards, specifically anti-muggle wizards, are canonically described via pottermore to adopt a "deliberately flamboyant, out-of-date or dandyish style" as a way to demonstrate their superiority over muggles. like muggle society, their sense of fashion also mirrored their equally as ignorant, outdated, and dramatic politics. remus, on the other hand, is commonly depicted in fanon as wearing "simple but smart" looking clothing such as knitted sweaters and vests with calm, naturally occurring colors. the simplicity in his style could also be interpreted a knee-jerk reaction to flamboyancy of wizarding fashion and culture as a whole. his lycanthropy gives him many self esteem issues and a strong desire to be liked which influences the way he carries himself amongst wizarding society. he is articulate and philosophical in his speech and is repeatedly shown to try to repress angry outbursts in possible fear of being depicted as dangerous or violent.

despite this, he has his moments when his true, sarcastic nature shines through. i think he'd enjoy jokey graphic tees that encapsulate this aspect of him.

shoes: doc martens and loafers

accessories: messenger bag, pins, walking cane.

cane user remus ftw‼️

he uses the messenger bag as his schoolbag and puts the pins on them for decoration. ik he wouldn't have *realistically* used 2/3 of these pins but i thought they were funny and fitting so why not.

[cherriiramen]

Shoujo Cosette Enjolras supremacy.. 🧎‍♀️🌼

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to repare fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[fantastic-nonsense]

Hi! I've never done this before but I'm new to comics (started with WFA and Zatanna and the Ripper) and I've basically got most of my information from posts on tumblr and r/hobbydrama (including yours.) I think I have a general idea of what Jason Todd is like, but I believe a lot of people are unhappy with his new characterisation.

So, if you were the one in charge, how would you write him? Would you write him with a team or as a solo character? Would you have him use the All-Blades or a crowbar or his guns? Would you have him properly rejoin the batfam or not?

Thanks!

Hi! Welcome to the fandom! I hope you're enjoying your time here.

In general, I think DC (and the fandom) has spent too much time milking Jason's death for trauma porn. They have refused to allow him to find closure, move past that, and exist beyond his daddy issues drama with Bruce. When DC has allowed him to have stories outside of that, they were often written with little consideration for what should be done with Jason beyond making him "badass."

None of this has been conducive to creating any kind of satisfying and coherent narrative or character arc for Jason, especially when both writers and editorial seem more obsessed with stealing traits, relationships, and stories from other people to give to him (most prominently Dick, Selina, and Helena). My hottake is that DC should move beyond "Red Hood" as an identity for Jason entirely, because it drags his character down and keeps him inherently tied to the same problems that have kept his character stagnant for years.

However! I don't think he's unsalvagable. I simply think DC needs to put a decent writer on him and commit to a character direction for more than 2 years at a time. I'm unsure of what Shawn Martinbrough is currently doing with Jason in his The Hill arc, as I'm not reading it, but I've heard that there might be some forward momentum finally happening there?

Anyway, my personal conception of Jason's future (as lovingly brainstormed by me and my friends in our comics discord server) is effectively this: he becomes a street-level paranormal detective who solves cold murder cases by talking with the victims' ghosts and providing closure to restless spirits. Think Lockwood and Co. meets Pushing Daisies with a superhero twist; basically, a supernatural detective noir book.

There's a lot of concepts and lore drops tied into this idea, but basically it was born out of a discussion where I was talking about Jason's many connections with the supernatural and occult across all continuities and how it's kind of a mystery why DC hasn't just formally connected him to the mystical side of the DCU. So I was like "they should just reveal that Superboy-Prime’s reality punch resurrection left him LITERALLY undead, make the event where he finds this out also spark his ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and make him an occult detective. Let him close cold case murder files and put those spectres to rest."

Which is also a great premise for a Bat book and a great unfilled niche for a Batfamily member. Kate's supernatural stories are much more high concept and connected to her family drama. Damian's supernatural/occult connections are traditionally very heavily tied to his family history and the Lazarus Pits. Dick's semi-regular magic encounters are usually stuff he deals with alongside his teammates in the course of working with the Titans. None of the other Bats have enough regular encounters with the supernatural and magic side of the DCU for it to encroach on their shtick, and a Gotham-based supernatural book is well within DC's ability to publish and market given books like Gotham by Midnight.

In terms of how that direction affects all the other questions you asked...I think Jason's relationship with the rest of the Batfam should be complicated. I personally don't think "good/bad relationship with the Batfam" is a particularly useful way to look at it because I think there are people he should never see eye to eye with, people he realistically shouldn't and doesn't have a problem with, and people he should get along with just fine. I don't think everyone needs to or should be friends or enemies with him, but his morals and past actions will (and should!) complicate those relationships in interesting ways.

And re: what weapons I'd like to see him use...using the All-Blades would certainly factor into my proposed narrative direction, as that would lean into the supernatural connections, but I generally prefer the concept of Jason using knives as his preferred weapon over guns/a crowbar/etc. That way he can still be a marksman without using guns, and I think that fits more with his character trajectory as someone attempting to be less lethal but also has no problem roughing people up when he thinks they need to be.

[ec-machlan]

Rei print from a while back!