#write way studio

[spiderdotexe]

underfell sans meets shadow the hedgehog go

thewy would be friends

[lizzybeeee]

"'BioWare Magic' exists to serve man, and never to rule over him." Faded words found within the pages of a dust-covered 'BioWare Employee's Handbook'

I think one of the most messed up parts about BioWare is that they renamed crunch to 'BioWare Magic'. Because they did make magic. They made such magical worlds, stories, and characters that managed to captivate so many hearts and minds - that potentially left such a profound mark on the lives of those who experienced those stories. These games were one of the reasons I got into drawing as a hobby! They inspired me so much!

We're they perfect? No. But in some of the darkest times of my life I found an escape - a distraction that gave me some comfort and allowed me to escape the stresses of my life for a little while. Something that gave me a genuine feeling of joy when depression hit me particularly hard. I still hear tunes like the theme for Castle Cousland or the Inquisition menu theme and just get this rush of emotion within me because I have so many happy memories associated with the first three games.

I got to go on adventures -> I made my own character who got to influence change in this lovingly crafted world, and who could be as daring and strong as I wished I was in real life. I got invested in these characters -> they became friends, companions, and fell in love and I was there every step of the way. I got lost in the story and lore of this world in a way that no other fantasy game has managed to grip me.

That is magic.

It's vile that they called crunch - the most toxic and disgustingly prevalent aspect of gaming development 'magic' - it is the complete opposite. Reading about the burn out, the stress leave or a 'stress casualty' when a developer left for good. Getting a job in the industry you love, to create things that you love, only to have that love twisted into this corporate psychological dumpster-fire of a work culture...

A healthy, well-run studio would not have had four iterations of the same game, their core developers hemorrhaging with every new iteration, before being dumped at the finish line with this frankenstein mess of a game.

There is no alternative to Dragon Age - it's the only thing like it. It's just so sad that it ended the way that it did.

[jks1uv]

𝐼𝑡’𝑠 𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑂𝑣𝑒𝑟 ; mcu!peter parker | one-shot |

summary: peter believes the world would be ideal if you forgot about him, your world isn't ideal without him in it.

pairing: fem!reader x mcu!peter parker.

trope: best friends to lovers.

genre: fluff + angst.

warnings‼️: mentions the multiverse + peter’s inner turmoil (bless him).

word count: 2,131.

random disclaimerrr: takes place after nwh but w a couple of changes bc i like to be happy 🙏🏽 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

You’re all dolled up in your favorite dress. Your hair is perfect, makeup done just the way you like it.

You’re beautiful he thinks. You’re so incredibly beautiful, the perfect woman to earn my heart.

And so devastatingly sad.

It’s poetic how beauty can shine through such adversity.

Peter can’t look at you, he can’t look into you.

Your stare pierces his heart and shoots straight through his soul.

You’re disappointed because you can’t believe what he’s saying.

“I’m going to… to forget about you?”

How small you sound, how sad. Your voice guts him like a fish.

He wants to kick himself down the way he kicks down the deserving assholes of New York.

Can he technically count himself as one? He does so anyway.

“I’m really gonna forget you?” You repeat, clearer and a bit louder now.

Peter nods and repeats himself. “You’re gonna forget who I am.”

Now that he’s said it, it hurts more. It's so much worse because he’s saying it out loud.

You don’t care to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. They flood your eyes and you’re not strong enough to blink them back.

“Are you serious?” Your voice wavers and you hate how weak you sound.

You think you look and sound pathetic but is it pathetic to be crying over something he can control?

There’s no one like him and there never will be.

He snatches his mask off and you see the redness in his eyes contrast with the suit.

“It’s the only way I can ensure your safety, Y/n. You, Ned, and MJ can’t get the lives you deserve as long as you’re tied to me.”

You nods slowly, letting your sadness simmer slowly in reserved anger. “So you think giving me an explanation before you leave my life would make me feel better?”

Peter shuts his eyes and looks to the side, a big window catching his eyes.

He thinks about everything going on outside of it, all the noise and people. Just outside that big, clear panel is a world of pain and suffering.

Inside this wall of glass is a possible opportunity of endless joy and hope. Joy because he's always happy with you, regardless if the two of you are doing anything or nothing at all. Hope because you give him that everyday, all the time.

He's at a crossroad in his life, the biggest one yet. He knows what he should choose and why but he doesn't know if he wants to.

Of course, he doesn't want to but does that matter? Does it matter, what he wants? Has it ever mattered?

It doesn't help knowing that in every single universe, you are the woman he chooses to cherish for the rest of your lives. You pick him every single time without fail and now, this time he's supposed to let you go?

It doesn't make sense to him, he shouldn't do this! But he must. He has to.

“Please, Peter.” Your plea rings in his ears like Green Goblin's pumpkin bomb. “Can’t you just make another spell? One that’ll make everyone who doesn’t need to remember, forget?”

You feel your heart break as he shuts his eyes once again and refuses to make eye contact with you.

He's fighting himself, you know he is.

You shakily exhale, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“Okay.”

Peter eyes you wearily. “What?”

“Okay.” You repeat, nodding twice to yourself.

He doesn't believe you, you know he doesn't.

It takes a special kind of bond to know those kinds of things.

“After all of this is over and by some miracle I forget you...” You breathe in. “You won’t come find me and I’ll be okay with that.”

Peter ignores the heavy grip around his throat that restricts him from crying. Instead, he chooses to nod in quick motions.

“But you have to show me.”

You're serious. Your reddish eyes contain a glimmer of hope but it's caged away for its own protection.

“I have to show you..?”

“Yes. Show me how to forget you.”

He scoffs in disbelief and feels your bitterness scorn him. His false bravado starts to fade away.

“Y/n, please don’t do this right now.”

“I’ve known you our whole lives.” Your tone grows loud. “You used to babysit me despite being the same age, Peter. Now I’m supposed to be okay with you leaving me?”

His eyes threaten to well up and he’s trying his best to hold his own.

“You’re my best friend,” You whisper sadly. “And I love-” You get a hold of yourself.

Peter’s eyes widen and he steps closer to you. “You… you love what?”

You look away and sigh in frustration, not wanting things to go this way.

Peter cups your face, his gloved fingers softly caressing your face to soothe you.

“Tell me. Please.”

You open your eyes and look straight into his, to hell with the planning and execution.

If this is there is the slightest chance you’re gonna remember anything from tonight, you want it to be this.

“I love you.”

Peter hugs you close, his cheek pressed against the side of your head and his arms bind you tightly.

A sob bubbles out of his mouth and you hug him back just as tight, crying with him.

“I’m sorry- I’m so, so sorry.”

His throat hurts from trying to clamp down the rest of the sobs in his chest.

He pulls back and holds you face in his hands again, feeling the newfound confidence graze his heart.

He nods softly, a trying smile on his face. “I’ll remind you.”

You softly gasp at his words.

“I’ll remind you. I don’t care how long it takes but I’ll find you and tell you everything.”

He brings your foreheads together and your hair fills the spaces between his fingers.

He thinks of the other Peter's and remembers their conversations.

Their love lives aren't spectacular but it's proof that you exist. You're out there, somewhere to be discovered.

“It's... complicated.”

“I lost Gwen... she was- uh, she was my MJ.”

You're not Gwen, or MJ or any other woman every other Peter Parker falls in love with. You're you, and he loves you.

They've made their marks and have stayed, exited or were left behind.

He won't give fate the chance to separate you from him now that's got you. Peter won't make that mistake a third time.

The sound of the bell chiming grabs your attention.

You look up and make eye contact with a shining pair of eyes, ones that are hopeful.

You think he’s cute.

You look away and busy yourself with wiping the counter with a damp rag but you have a great memory.

Nice, brown eyes that match his hair; tufts of soft curls and gelled back.

His button nose reminds you of a bunny. His lips slender and pink-ish red. His cheeks a similar rosy color from the biting cold breeze outside.

The cute stranger makes his way to the counter, not once breaking contact you despite you doing so.

“Hi, how are you?” You recite the greeting with your best customer service smile.

“I-I’m good. How are you?” He smiles back sheepishly.

“I’m great, thanks for asking. So, what can I get for you?”

You take out your notepad and pen, preparing to write down the cute guy’s order.

A few seconds go by and you look up from your notepad, not expecting the silence.

He stares at you— no, through you.

His eyes hold an inexplicable sadness, one that is conflicting.

“Do you need a minute?” You ask not able to hide your concern.

He smiles but it doesn’t feel genuine. Shaking his head, he deeply inhales.

You note his eyes seem water, like he’s tearing up but he blinks a couple of times; making them dry up a bit.

“My name is Peter Parker and I…” Peter trails off when your necklace comes into his view.

A single black dahlia petal, from when he accidentally broke it fighting Quentin Beck, also known as Mysterio.

But he knows you don’t remember that. You probably don’t even remember how you got the necklace or what it’s supposed to be.

You look at him expectantly, waiting patiently for him to finish his sentence but something tells you he’s not here for that.

“Peter?” Your soft voice brings him out of his trance and for a split second, he believes you recognize him.

“You were saying?”

Oh. Right. I told her my name.

Peter thinks about telling you everything right then and there but he ultimately decides against it.

It isn’t the right place or time.

“I’d like a coffee. Please.”

He can’t complain about a broken heart if he’s the one that broke his own.

You nod. “Okay, what kind?”

“An espresso with vanilla cold foam.”

That’s one of your favorite coffee’s and you can’t help yourself.

“I love that for you.” You say as you scribble away.

He smiles. I know. “Why?”

He just wants to hear you talk about something you’re fond of. He’ll never get tired of that.

“It’s one of my favorite drinks, I thought of it randomly one day and thought why not, you know?”

You recall the memory but something’s missing. It feels fuzzy but you can’t break this feeling of knowing. How else can you explain the memory?

“Huh.” You say. “I can’t remember ever making it. You smile but you still feel kind of uneasy.

Peter can feel a pit forming in his stomach. “You will.”

His encouragement feels cryptic.

“Is that all for you today?”

He nods and takes out a 5 dollar bill.

You cash it in the register and give him his change.

As you turn away to make his coffee, you can’t help but feel drawn to him.

He feels familiar somehow.

It’s crazy, you’ve never been the love-at-first-sight type and don’t believe in it.

What about him is making me feel this way?

It’s the way he looks at you. With longing, hope. Like he’s been waiting forever to come by this café and speak to you. Like he knew you’d be here.

You sigh, not believing yourself.

I mean seriously, I sound fucking stupid.

Shaking your head, you place a cardboard slip in the middle of the cup along with the lid on top and hand it to him.

“Here you go.” You smile.

“Thank you.”

Peter stands in front of you, opening his mouth to say something— anything.

He hesitates to turn away, it’s now or never.

He waits a beat before giving in.

“Are you going to MIT?”

He cringes internally, great now you look like some stalker idiot.

“Yeah, actually. I am.”

Something told you, you didn’t have to lie to him.

He nods. “Cool, same.”

Peter thinks he’s so fucking awkward and he wants to die but you think he’s awkwardly charming, endearing even.

I am so not crushing on him right now.

Yes you are.

“Alright, well… I’ll uh see you around?”

Why did I have to make it sound like a question?

It’s not like he’s unsure. He knows he’ll see you around because he has to.

You chuckle lightly at his attempt of making himself scarce. “Sure, have a good day.”

“You too.” He says quickly before ducking out of there.

You watch him leave through the window and feel an emptiness get ahold of you.

His presence made you feel something close to nostalgic but now it’s been multiplied tenfold.

“What is happening right now.” You murmur, dazed.

Peter lets his tears fall in an alleyway close by.

It hurts, seeing your loved one and not being able to say a thing because you’re unsure they’ll be untouched.

He doesn’t want to plague you with his curse, doom your life with dread.

May barely made it out alive and he’s living that aftermath, too.

It’s during times like this he wishes Tony were alive. He’d know what to do.

Peter remembers the night you said you love him.

You said it with an unwavering honesty, like you’ve been sure of it your whole life. And you were.

Peter shakily inhales and holds up his coffee, his name written in black sharpie on the coffee holder in your handwriting.

There’s a smiley face drawn next to his last name and feels a surge of motivation jittering in his bones.

He can’t be selfish and allow you to feel disoriented about your entire life.

He wants to be selfless but seeing your face drop when you can’t remember how one of your favorite drinks was born makes him reevaluate.

He’ll be selfish just this once, just for you. He’ll make good on his promise.

[adastra121]

Luneth the Reluctant Unnamed

I redesigned my Unnamed!MC, Luneth.

Pronouns: She/Her Birthday: October 24 Height: 5’4 (163 cm) Personality: Monotonous Mystic Likes: Swimming, summer rain, sunrises, dancing, playing the lyre, warm bread with honey, nature walks Dislikes: Dishonesty, the sound of an untuned instrument, crowded spaces, chalk, heights Fatal Flaw: Would go to any length to fulfill her destiny Other: She is a vegetarian. She doesn’t eat meat, but she does eat animal products like cheese and milk. Quote: “This path was never meant for me.”

More about her below:

Luneth is reserved, diligent, tenacious, seemingly unfazed and emotionless (but there is a great depth hiding under her icy surface).

She is very socially awkward, will probably make many social blunders throughout the game, but she does not care much about how others might perceive her. What matters most to her is her objective — why would she concern herself with the judgement of others?

Has a sharp, cold gaze that others may find intimidating, but that’s really just her neutral expression.

She tends to be straightforward and rather blunt with her words. She isn’t a very good liar and she knows that, so if she wants to keep a secret, she usually chooses not to speak on it.

She’s slow to warm up to others but she is fiercely loyal, protective, and devoted to those who have earned her trust.

She regards carrying out one’s duty with great importance. She would go to any lengths to fulfill her purpose, even to others' and her own detriment. She would destroy the world if she believed this was her destiny. Her own desires are nothing of importance — they are not meant to exist.

Despite appearing rather serious from her monotonous demeanour, Luneth can be quite playful. She enjoys utilizing her sense of humour when she wants to invoke joy in those she considers to be her friends. Unfortunately, it can be hard to tell when she is joking so her jokes rarely land. This is much to her disappointment.

She loves dance and music, as they offered a space for her to be herself. With her abilities, her hands, and her identity promised to serving the temple and the destiny they followed, she had very little ownership over her own person. Through her dance and her music, for a short moment in time, her body and her emotions are hers.

Luneth can play the lyre and the harp. She will probably learn the piano later on — I imagine she will continue learning new dances and instruments throughout the story and afterward.

She mainly dances contemporary. I'm debating on having her do aerial silks as well, mostly for the aesthetic parallel between the silks and her bandages, winding around her limbs. But where one represents a barrier, the other sets her free.

Luneth has a fear of heights, but she's also very disciplined, so every sunrise, she would practice her lyre or harp playing on the temple's platform overlooking the waterfall.

She is not a very empathetic person, mostly because of her sheltered and isolated upbringing under the Temple of Myst. But she does lend aid where she can. She may never understand why the traveller beside her in the caravan is crying — their tears serve them no purpose now, especially out in the Wastes — but she will share bread and water with them because an emotional outburst like that drains you of liquids and nutrients.

She’s a very practical prophet.

The Temple of Myst trained her to become the perfect vessel for her gift. She’s been raised to keep her emotions in check because they can affect her power, which needs to remain pure. Untainted.

Additionally, the priests told her she was to be an instrument of destiny. She must remain neutral, detached to carry out this duty. She is not a person, she must be more than that. She is more than that. She is the hand of enlightenment.

Actually, all the difficult training paid off, because now she can sense happenings in the present and the immediate future as effortlessly as blinking. 

Like, you can be conversing with and walking beside her in a hallway and she’ll suddenly hold a hand out to catch a falling vase and set it back in place without missing a beat. Or if there’s a tripping hazard, she’ll smoothly navigate you around it.

I imagine a scenario where she and one of the LIs get into a fight with a bunch of enemies and she calmly says: “One behind the crates, two on the roof.” or “Duck.” or “Block left.”

She is not much of a fighter, but she’d be a perfect lookout or…what is the word for someone who has eyes on everything? Guide? Anyway, if she can communicate telepathically, she’ll be the voice in your head letting you know what to watch out for.

Some abilities she might have, depending on how the Unnamed origin plays out (I've played around with them because I thought they would be interesting): Clairvoyance, psychometry, spirit mediumship, telepathy.

Luneth is oblivious when it comes to innuendo. So yeah…none of Vere’s jokes landed. She just wanted her room key back.

Vere: “Don't tell me Leander already snuck out to get his knob slobbered out back.” Luneth: “Kuras is a doctor. He would not put his mouth on an unclean doorknob, it would be unhygienic.” Ais: “…I see you’ve got no comment on the dove.”

Does not understand why Leander blushes so often — is he sick? That would explain the dark circles. He should not offer to allow people to touch him if he's sick. Or perhaps he just needs to keep off the ale for a while.

She genuinely considered tying Leander up for their safety, completely unaware of the sexual connotations around it. Did not know why he was so flustered about it.

She gets frustrated sometimes. Things would be easier if people just said what they mean — but here she is, in the city of secrets.

Her entire life, she has trained for one purpose — to serve the Myst with her gift and bring enlightenment to the lost. Her path has always been clear. Now, understanding that it had all been a lie, she is thrown into the unknown.

She must discover the truth of who she is, where these destructive powers came from. And perhaps she’ll find out who she is outside of the temple.

Her MBTI is ISTJ

Her zodiac sign is Scorpio

Her enneagram is 1w9

Here is her full new design:

Woohoo! She is the MC of mine who's free of the waist sash! XD I took some loose inspiration from art nouveau architecture for her design — I felt that the flowy, but structured, designs suited her character. I was considering giving her more of a gown silhouette, but I thought this would allow her more movement for her dance style, which is mostly contemporary. And Kuras probably wanted to give her something a bit more practical to navigate the city. I might draw her in the gown version later, though! I would like to draw her in more gowns in general — I think she looks very beautiful and elegant in them.

Some songs I associate with her:

"Daughter of the Moon" by Adriana Figueroa This is the song I think of as her backstory theme. I attribute it to the creation of Luneth's character. Her backstory came clear to mind when listening to this song. A lone temple atop a waterfall, an isolated priestess among the blue waterlilies. It's an original song based off of a character who ends up sacrificing her life for others, but with Luneth, I imagined someone — the visiting mage — that refused to let her make that sacrifice and, instead, destroyed themself so that she would finally be free. So, instead of her life being the sacrifice sung about at the end, it is her love.

"All the King's Horses" by Karmina Her character theme. Could probably be a direct continuation of the previous song. Right after the visiting mage destroys her temple.

"notre dame" by Paris Paloma A bit of insight into her experience in the temple, forged into an instrument of destiny. She may be held with great importance as the hand of enlightenment, but the pedestal can be as lonely as the high bell tower.

"Journey" by Aphrodite Patoulidou and Theodore Koumartzis Lyre playing and singing voice reference.

"The Calling" by The Amazing Devil Her story theme. I imagine you can hear the echoes of the visiting mage, encouraging her to be more than what everyone has insisted was her destiny. She can be more than destiny. She can be a person.

“Manike” by Jubin Nautiyal, Surya Ragunaathan, and Yohani Her love theme. I can imagine her dancing a duet to this song.

“Quixotic” by Seo Jayeong Her battle theme. Most of the songs I associate with her build up, like the music is rising with her.

[ragnarockz]

You know, guys, Maya isn't immune to beautiful women in control, and neither am I 😊🔒💛

I need to make a playlist for this fucker like, RIGHT NOW

She was tired of sucking everyone's dick at this party. Not literally of course; she couldn't stand the fucking thought of that.

She found herself a corner and leaned against it; a drink of something strong in her hand as she sipped with squinted eyes. These big Hollywood parties were always just an excuse to circle jerk one another for hours.

And not in the fun way.

Maya sighed, rolling her eyes as she downed the dark liquid in her glass. She could bail early technically, but that would mean possibly running into someone on her way out.

She was at an impasse.

"Maya?"

Oh fuck.

"Fuck off!"

She turned herself so that she was sideways against the wall; crushing her left shoulder. Fuck these annoying motherfuckers. She thought she was doing a good job being out of the way.

"I thought that was you... you want me to get you another drink?"

Maya's head snapped to the side in the direction of the voice. Her eyes found the source, and when it did register, her mouth slightly opened.

She had never seen this woman before. Tall, handsome. Power coursing through her just in the way she stood, the way she had commanded her voice earlier. The way she held her drink with a firm grip; short nails.

"Sure, yeah...I'll let you get me a drink..."

Maya sniffed as she tossed her hair back and peeled away from the wall. She had done it in one single brain down her back and woven in strands of gold colored silk threads. You could only see them if the light caught it a certain way.

She watched the woman nod, and a tiny smile spread across her dark, painted lips. A shiver ran down Maya's spine as she took a step closer. This woman was pulling her in with just her smile; just a taste of what could possibly come if she jumped in feet first.

"Then let's go get our drinks, honey..."

The woman reached out with her free hand to grab Maya's. Interlocking fingers for a split second before letting go to simply grab her wrist. Maya thought she was going to swallow her tongue as she woman pushed her way through the throngs of people with Maya following behind. Maybe it was the alcohol or the bump she had done with Sal earlier, but it felt like her high-heeled feet weren't even touching the ground.

They found the waitress with the drink tray and swiped two for themselves before pushing through more people; basically maneuvering through the house until the woman led Maya to a hallway that was empty. She quickly led her into a semi-opened door, pushing her way inside until they were both in. She let go of Maya's hand and moved slightly, grabbing the door handle to close and lock it behind them.

The bathroom was spacious enough; nothing over the top as it was just a bathroom on the main floor. But it was clean and comfortable and the countertop was big and long enough for-

"You're thinking of fucking me, aren't you?"

The handsome woman smirked as she raised her glass to her mouth and downed the drink in one go. She placed the glass on the countertop and stared pointedly at Maya.

"What? Are you fucking- how the fuck did you even know who I was?!"

Maya followed suit, downing her own drink and sliding it across the counter. Hands on hips, she tried to make herself appear bigger, intimidating. She had paired her braid and heels with a dark brown sweater dress; cinched at the waist with a chunk belt. Gold jewelry covered every inch of herself as she could; including her favorite lock chain necklace she always wore no matter what outfit.

The woman eyed her up and down like she was the next thing she was going to down into her mouth.

Maya felt herself flush in the face.

"I've been following your work for some time... you got balls, Ms. Mason... you sure as shit know what you're doing in this industry..."

Maya licked her lips and nodded slightly at the praise; could basically feel her metaphorical cock get hard. This woman was basically hitting all the right buttons thus far.

"Right so, you track me down at a lame ass party to grab me a top up and throw me into a bathroom to praise me? Is that it, sweetheart?"

Sarcasm dripped from Maya's lips at an attempt to throw the woman off. She thought she had the upper hand.

Until she didn't.

Fingers hooked under Maya's belt to pull her close, push her against the countertop until her ass hit the edge of it, and the back of her heels collided with the base of the cupboards. She gasped loudly as she felt the woman's hands unhook and travel up to squeeze her breasts through her dress. What the fuck was happening?!

But she didn't ask it out loud or stomp on the woman's feet with her heels. She didn't push her away or headbutt her. Maya placed her hands back to grip the edge of the countertop so she could lift herself up and take a seat.

She heard the woman hum; something low and sweet and desperate, as she grabbed the bottom of Maya's dress. She pulled it up to that it gathered in her lap.

"Do you always attend these parties without underwear on?"

Smug, in control. The woman's eyes flicked up to tease Maya before looking back down. She breathed in deeply before sinking to her knees onto the cool tiled floor. Maya held her breath and felt her head swimming.

"Maybe I should fucking start if I knew someone like you was going to be here..."

The woman smirked as she moved her hands up to spread Maya's legs for her; enjoying the heat of her skin on her fingers. Maya shuddered as she gripped the edge a little tighter, bracing herself.

Beautiful and hard and soft; the woman expertly flattened her tongue and made a solid lick from the bottom up. Pointed tongue she pressed just ever so gently onto Maya's clit which, pretty much sent her into orbit. Fingers digging into the marble countertop; knuckles matching the colour. A string of every curse she could muster flew from her mouth and made the woman laugh between her legs.

"Should have been a sailor, honey..."

"Just...fucking...keep going..."

She barely managed to get out of her mouth as that goddamn sweet tongue started to circle her clit. It was dangerous, the sensation, something she could end up craving more than money and clout and addictive substances. This was something more serious than all of that combined.

"Oh...fuck...holy-"

She let her words hang as she did her head; braid snaking down her back and the end on the countertop. The circles got tighter, smaller. They got more direct and pointed. Tip meeting tip, pressure pushing harder until she felt like she was going to burst. Sparks melting inside of her stomach and the promise of coming undone.

That was, until the woman unexpectedly pushed two warm fingers in past Maya's folds and curled up inside of her pussy.

She felt herself choke from the sensation of someone else's fingers inside of her, and a burning desire sparked in the bottom of her abdomen. She wanted to be completely used up; completely taken over. Fuck what she thought before about this lame ass party. She was getting fucked by a beautiful woman in a bathroom with her fingers up inside of her.

"That's it, honey... you got this... look how bad you want this..."

Dripping like syrup, the woman's words fell as she pumped her fingers in a precise rhythm. She had done this before, Maya realized before the murkiness of lust filled her brain, and she was perfected at it.

A low daring moan dropped from Maya's mouth; opening herself to this unknown woman between her legs. She never, if rarely, let someone get this close. Something about her. Something about her attitude.

"That's it, sweet thing...it's like your pussy was made for my fingers..."

More syrup. More honey. More praise.

Another low moan that changed pitch halfway through as Maya herself tried to push her hips forward greedily. She wanted, no, needed more. The woman chuckled warmly as she bent her fingers a little more and held. The pressure was unmistakable; undignified.

She was going to push Maya over the edge on purpose, and it was something Maya, quickly welcomed.

She allowed her muscles to go slack and her head to snap forward, chin to chest as she gave the woman a little pathetic whimper before she felt the hot and sweet rush inside of herself.

The woman hummed again, low and sweet and approving as her perfect guided hands came to a slow. They were soaked as they slowly came out; teasing their way up once more through the hair and a single, playful swipe at Maya's engorged clit.

She shivered and sucked in a sharp breath as her head swam. She could sense the woman standing and just inches away from her face now. The silence between them palpable.

She felt a tug at her neck, which made her slowly open her eyes and come back to reality.

The fingers that were just inside of her were now hooked around her necklace with the lock resting in the woman's palm of her hand. Maya moaned softly; her eyes daring to meet.

"We should go get another drink...come on...I'll lead the way..."

She yanked gently on the chain so that Maya had to push herself off of the counter. Legs wobbly, she cursed herself for wearing fucking heels tonight. Her dress dropped down itself, and she could feel the tiny section of it stick at her skin; clinging to the fresh wetness. She moaned again and watched the woman's eyebrows lift on her gorgeous face.

"Do you need a minute, or are you gonna be out there moaning for everyone to hear?"

Maya slowly shook her head and bit her lip as she watched the solid single nod of approval.

She was still being led by her own necklace as the bathroom door was unlocked and pushed open. Guided back to the party with fingers hooked up under her chain and a curious tug at her heart. She couldn't dismiss the throbbing between her legs, either.

The smirk on Maya's face was plastered; doubted it was ever going to come off soon. At least, she thought, not for the rest of the night.

[leafwateraddict]

Finally came up with a design for my siren sans from my short fic Curiosity

Something something water dress but also its apart of his body and he physically cant leave the ocean because it claimed his soul…

[silver-timetravel]

Emmet and Lucy from the Lego Movie are in a QPR. Batman and Barbara Gordon from the Lego Batman Movie are in an open QPR and his boyfriend is the Joker.

[askluximperator]

Hello again, Mr. Ring-A-Ding. I have four essays, two exams, and one video presentation to get done and pass this month in order to do my (very nerve-wracking) year abroad. Any advice? Any words of encouragement? Any gasps of "holy moly, that's a lotta stuff!"?

By golly, that sure is a lot! I happen ta know someone going through something quite similar! Gee, schoolwork these days sure seems demanding! Do your best, and I'll be cheering you on!

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

So in g/t writing, size matters a LOT for the Tinies. Depending on how tall they are in your world, they might be near-impervious to fall since they weigh so little, or seriously endangered by water since it’s tension can pull them under and refuse to let go. Here’s a pretty good resource if anyone is interested (it goes over superlarge animals briefly too, so it can help with Giant writing too):

[eyes-0f-etro]

today I messed around in vocaloid 2 (vocaloid 2 Miku dark is my FAVORITE) and made Miku sing rudimentary Japanese phrases I learned in school and it was tiny but I did it and I'm proud of myself. making music in any capacity is my biggest dream but I don't ever take steps towards that goal because I don't know where to start and I'm scared. but today showed me I can do it and it's more accessible than I thought!!!

[kidamnesia10]

thinking about becoming a rockstar.sounds very appealing

[repurposedmeatlocker]

On one hand, I agree that there should be a more diverse field of subject matter utilized in "adult animation". Not all "adult animation" should be used as an excuse to revolve around shock content and gratuitous potty humor. At this point in time, stuff like this being seen on prime-time television is no longer out of the ordinary. And, from my observation, is done well even less frequently. There should be more films that treat themselves seriously and explore an array of topics rather than just comedy with a middle-school idea of mature subject matter.

ON THE OTHER HAND. I don't think there is ANYTHING wrong with animated movies and shows with lots of drugs and boobies and sex and gross jokes. I think cartoon characters having freaky sex is funny af. Both have the right to exist together. Art should not be pigeon-holed through a lens of "respectability" in order to be taken seriously. Demanding adult animation be "palatable" for an "adult" audience ultimately strips it completely of what makes it a unique medium for expression in the first place.

[recurring-polynya]

me, pointedly ignoring all the spoilers I have seen for this week's episode: what if they did a new year's episode? what if they did a new year's episode centered around renji's blood-loss hallucinations?

[nonstandardrepertoire]

reading Christie is so funny because sometimes someone will be killed over £200,000 and you'll be like "shit, yeah, that is a lot of money" entirely forgetting about conversion and inflation, and then sometimes a character will be describing the rents of an unimaginably posh part of town and you'll do out all the math and it work out to like, $3,500 a month, and when you're living in NYC in 2025,

[thatonecrookedsmile]

From the depths of the studio - where darkness prevails and the voices of the puddles grow louder - a message is echoed to the rest of the world. A promise filled with hatred and,at the same time,with conviction. Words coming from someone who was more than confident that their blasphemy would come true.

A message that is directed to one creature,and one creature only...

"I will become the very being You never could be"

----- "A Promise Sent from Below" - Return to the Studio AU.

Oh hey, I have an AU, I forgot about that (lie)

I've had a similar idea in my head for a month now. It wasn't possible to do it last month, but no problem. May would make more sense. I did something with this little guy for 414 last year, and I wanted to do something with him again. April 14th of this year would not be possible, but May 14th or 15th? Oh yes. These dates are better because it was between these two (actually it was the 14th I think, but I consider both dates) days that I created this guy above! Consider this drawing a celebration made for…well, me. Of course, he wasn't created with the design above in mind. His original, main design is quite different from this alternative (and less original) iteration. The drawing above shows his current situation in the "current" moments of the RTTS AU.

His creation, which dates back to 2020, was the result of some Bendy-related thoughts of mine intersecting on the day. These being about new things in canon lore that came out at the time (plus speculation about this new information), a theory that at the time I started to understand better (which maybe based on the drawing, you probably know which theory I'm talking about ) and a funny bug found in one of the games (do you remember Ghost Bendy by any chance?) And then,boom. I created Atlas. I remember at the time I was thinking of other names for him because Atlas was just a codename that I had in mind to refer to him while I thought of a definitive name for the guy. But the codename ended up sticking. Plus, Atlas is a cool name and I wanted to give an OC that name.

Even though some details changed over time, I think I eventually managed to solidify his place in the AU. Not that his story is 100% thought out and completed. Hell, my AUs that I have are still not 100% thought out either, so what to expect from their characters. But I think that, currently, I have at least decided on the general idea of his place and purpose in RTTS, and I am happy with what I have come up with.

I don't know when the next time will be that I will show him again. In general, showing things from my AUs is not and probably will never be my strong point lol. But I'd like to draw him again eventually. So uhhhhhhhhhhh, one day. When that "one day" will be, it's up to you to decide

Happy Birthday Atlas. You and your other 2 alternative versions are cool to think about. Here's to another 4 years of chaos for you. 🙌

I can't believe it's been 4 years now, damn.

[fruitsofhell]

i cant wait to finish chapter 4 and write an essay about tenna's immaculate vibes and how everything about him was crafted to make the proceeding chapter as painful of a departure as possible from his whimsical bosom.