Tumgik
#I'm sorry for this but jfc
brain-rot-central · 3 months
Text
Thinking of how to approach the discussion of dhampirs between Tav and AA.
My brain came up with a whole story AA can tell her about Cazador having fallen in love with a young mortal woman (maybe like 22?) from a cabaret he frequented; she gets pregnant, he moves her into the manor but she ends up dying in childbirth and the child is stillborn (most dhampirs are in DnD lore). Cazador tries turning her in an effort to save her but her heart stops right before his fangs pierce her neck. That's the only time Astarion ever felt compassion for Cazador since he wailed for hours after she died. Cazador never took another mortal lover that he didn't plan on turning immediately after that, and his abuse toward the spawn only got worse in his grief.
The young woman and their child are laid to rest in the dungeon crypt off to the side in one of the rooms you can't access in-game, but AA finds them after taking over the manor.
My fucking brain when I'm stressed out is a fucking creative minefield, I s2g
54 notes · View notes
mulderscully · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The world didn't end.
3K notes · View notes
Text
Bucky Barnes | One Shot | My Queen
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Queen!Reader
Plot: The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there’s a willing soldier at your disposal.
Warnings: 18+. Smut and mentions of violence.
Words: 4OOO
Tumblr media
“There are guests, Your Majesty,” John tells you with pity in his voice, not mentioning it because he thinks you have forgotten, but because he needs you to be aware of the important fact. If you tried hard enough, it wasn’t too much of a task to remember your duties and who those entailed, but it was a relief to have John around to remind you of such things, since you valued your duties and relations with the outside world dearly.
You glance around nervously and give him a guilty pout, grabbing the last of your belongings.
“I know, I am so sorry, but this is important. Send them a plane and I will get back to them as soon as I can,” you plead and quickly rush out of the room to the main entrance hall, John following you as you make your way to the prepared jet.
Mind occupied by making sure your small legion is armed and ready to go as you walk, you get brought to an abrupt stop when two large men block your path. Raising your head, you glower curiously at the rude interruption. As busy as you have been the past weeks, you study each and every encounter you plan, so you know exactly who the two men are.
“Captain Wilson. Sergeant Barnes.”
“Your Majesty,” Sam’s greeting is curt, yet kind. “I don’t suppose a sudden departure is part of your infamous warm welcome?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You have an awful lot of courage speaking to a queen this way,” you warn him, your tone formal before your features soften towards your guests. “But I apologise. Something important came up and I hardly think sending you into war with me is considered a warm welcome.”
The man you recognise as James Barnes lets out a humoured scoff. “Clearly, you don’t know us very well.”
Your eyes dart between the men suspiciously and a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, hardly able to contain it at the sheer boldness coming from the men. After a pregnant pause and your legion having left the hall to board the jet, you slowly turn to John.
“John. You heard the men. Get them suited and onto the jet.” Sharing one more glance with the men, your eyes lingering on the twinkle of mischief in Bucky’s eyes, you brush past them and step onto the plane without another word.
“It’s not often a queen goes into war with her people.”
“Well, unfortunately my legions are struggling on their own,” you explain to Sam calmly.
“What happened?” Bucky asks, brows pulled together in slight worry.
“John? Could you please bring them up to speed while I get ready?”
As John takes over and shows the two heroes what their next mission will be as they serve someone else’s queen, you step over to the side and let one of your generals help you suit up. Slipping into the modern metal, rusted with nano technology, the shimmering suit glides over your body perfectly.
From the corner of your eyes, you notice Bucky Barnes losing interest from John’s briefing and your eyes lock with his. There’s a rush of heat pulsing through your body at the sheer boldness of Bucky not breaking eye contact once he gets caught staring. His eyes rake up and down the sleek suit and lock back onto yours, a knowing smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth before he drags his eyes away and turns back to his previous conversation.
Leaving you absolutely flustered and furious.
Did he just ogle a queen?
Bucky is startled enough for it to nearly show on his face when he sees the feral look you have on yours. He knows that look, has worn it plenty of times himself. Battle doesn’t quite leave your body and mind as soon as it is over. Even with your spectacular win, which Bucky knows is mostly because of your reliability and skills as a powerful leader, the raging chaos of adrenaline lingers like you have days worth of battles to fight still.
He came in to check up on you post-battle, easily slipping past your guards, to find you pacing in your blood-splattered gear around the chamber before what he assumes is your bedroom. The hall is large and decorated wonderfully, but so very empty with your restless figure pacing through it. He’s certain he can feel your energy buzzing all the way up to the impossibly high ceilings.
Having enough decency to announce himself, he gently knocks on the door from inside of the room. When you whirl towards him in your frenzy, he finds it amusing enough to plaster a smirk onto his face. “Restless, my queen?”
You huff through your nostrils. “I still have fight in me.” He knows. “I want to kill them for springing that attack on us.” He knows that too, but the gravel in your voice awakens a slumbering beast inside of him and fire starts curling around his bones.
“I think you gave them enough hell for what they did to you,” he assures you and something in your eyes seems to soften at that. You did give them hell. Rightfully so.
“But this energy–” You shake out your trembling hands to rid yourself of that restlessness. Bucky nods and slowly prowls closer, hands gliding into his pockets as he slants his head to the side to observe you.
“I know,” he acknowledges, “it takes a while to wear off.”
“How do you handle it?” you ask him, taking a steadying breath as he crosses the room. “After a fight, how do you get rid of all of that energy?”
Bucky flashes you a grin, his brows raising with intrigue and a mischievous shimmer in his eyes. “I hardly think I could speak about such methods to a sophisticated queen.”
“Sophisticated, my ass,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at the broad soldier. “You hardly felt like you had to be appropriate when you were watching me put on this suit,” you say with a scoff, ushering to the intricate metals you’re wearing.
“In my defence, I hadn’t seen you fight yet. Whereas now,” he shrugs, “I’d prefer staying in your good graces.”
“You fuck it out, don’t you?”
Bucky’s blink is the only sign of his surprise and he cocks his head at you again. “Excuse me?”
“The only way to get rid of the energy after battle is to get your dick wet,” you clarify, “isn’t it?”
Bucky chokes on a laugh, stepping even closer to you now with his hands still in his pockets, close enough to make you have to tilt your chin up. “You have a filthy mouth for a queen,” he breathes and to accentuate his words, his eyes drop to said mouth.
“I didn’t become queen by being prim and proper,” you explain with a little less fire than you intended to say it with.
“No,” he breathes, “you didn’t.”
Another restless shudder up your spine reminds you of your predicament, your thudding heartbeat not coming to a rest. You sigh, searching those blue eyes still trained on your lips. “Care to help a queen out?”
“You want to see me bow for you again, don’t you?” He smirks and finally raises his eyes to meet yours.
You can’t help but smile slightly, giving him a guilty shrug, because yes, you loved seeing him bow for you earlier as you stepped onto the battlefield. Not just that, plenty of pretty men had bowed for you. It was Bucky’s willingness and respect as he took a knee for you that was particularly invigorating. He matches your smile and takes a long second to let you take in what he is about to do, before slowly sinking to his knees in front of you, steady hands moving to rest on your thighs.
“Your people are awfully lucky to get to serve you every day,” he murmurs, looking up at you with eyes of fire and submission. That manages to make heat surge to your cheeks and ears, swallowing hard as you take in the sight before you. “May I?”
It takes all of your power not to nod too eagerly before he starts working off the buckles and belts of your suit, the nanotechnology wingmanning perfectly as the metal retreats into the hard base of the suit.
Soon, you are in nothing but your underwear. Bones and muscles are trembling beneath your skin in response to forcing your body to be utterly still. Chemical reactions are ricocheting against the barrier of your skin to make you spring apart. So much energy. So much fire and passion and fury still roiling inside of you. A heavy blanket settles over it – desire. But before you can order him to act on it, Bucky comes back to a stand.
“Close your eyes,” he mutters.
“I’m close to fighting you, Sergeant Barnes,” you promise him, showing your active restraint, but deciding to close your eyes anyway.
He huffs a soft laugh and you feel his eyes burning into your skin, a knuckle brazenly trailing over your collarbones and down the centre of your chest. “I will take you up on that another day,” he answers and your blood heats up at the fact that Bucky revels in both of those sides of you. Most men cower at your bloodlust, but not him. He kneels before it.
Speaking of him kneeling–
“I didn’t tell you to get up,” you remind him and his hand pauses.
“I didn’t particularly think it would be fair to leave you standing as I proceed to immobilise your legs, my queen,” he drawls and you snap your mouth shut. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you find him having taken a step back, holding out his hand for you to take.
Carefully taking it with a questioning look in your eyes, Bucky leads you to your bedroom like he has been there a thousand times. Slowly and deliberately, he guides you to your own bed, still fully clothed himself in those black leathers.
“I expected it to be more rough,” you admit steadily. “Fucking out that energy...”
Bucky turns back to you, hands now on your waist as he pivots you with your back to the bed, the backs on your legs touching the foot of it. “Fucking you roughly won’t do the trick,” he explains. “Fucking you thoroughly will.”
If you weren’t quaking before, this would do the trick. Your heartbeat is pulsing between your legs, hammering for attention, the seams of your underwear teasing you more than the man before you. It paralyses you, that desire coursing through your veins like syrup, makes you fall quiet. Only for a short while.
“Then do it.”
Bucky’s brows raise again, not having expected you to fold so fast. “What?”
“Did I fucking stutter?” you hiss at him. “I need you to fuck me before I explode.”
Bucky smirks at you again and you’re so tempted to smother that smirk – you have your ways. “I am not yours to give orders to.”
You restrain from rolling your eyes at him, the close proximity making you prone to holding your breath and making your words coming out strained. “I’m not going to beg for it.”
“You already have,” he reminds you, not an inch of him giving away that he might be unravelling. “And I think you will, sweetheart. I think you are seconds away from begging for it.”
As if in answer to his outrageous insinuation, a shudder racks through your bones and flashes of that wild battle make your nervous system rush to life again. It’s so frustrating, to have so much energy begging to be released.
His solid eyes and steady hands on your waist make you want to sink into him for relief. You want Bucky to tear you apart, almost similar to the way he tore apart those monsters earlier. Calculated, precise and only slightly unhinged. His fighting earlier was like a choreography your body wanted to study and practice until it can memorise nothing else. The way his muscles moved, the precise strikes of his metal arm, the focused crinkles in his handsome face, his thick thighs planting him firmly onto the ground – your ground. Fighting for your lands. For you.
My queen, he had called you. You suppose he does answer to your commands, then. But you might just beg for it. If only because it feels so tempting. To whine for his pleasure, sob for it and make him serve you like he wanted to do earlier. How awful, for a queen to want to beg for it.
“Please,” you almost gasp from holding your breath for too long.
He hums, low and deadly, his finger kneading gently and appreciatively into your soft flesh. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs and before you can shout in outrage, he slowly dips down and presses his pillowy soft lips to your collarbone, instantly making your head tilt backwards.
His hands pull you close enough for your front to be pressed to his and your hands automatically grab his shoulders. His lips part and his tongue traces a singular line over the thinnest piece of skin on your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His mouth moves up, tongue dipping in and out to raise your pulse as he suckles at your skin. Your fingers curl slightly and your body starts to nearly shake with jitters at the adrenaline coursing through you like an electrical charge.
Bucky bites down on the tense skin beneath your ear where he hums against you, the sound ringing in your head like a gong. His hands have travelled to your back, stroking up and down the bare skin until your bra pops loose with you barely noticing. You tremble with need when all you are left in are your panties and Bucky pulls away to once again sink down to his knees.
You swallow hard at his stare from below you and follow his silent command to sit down at the edge of the bed. Hooking his hands around your knees, he presses them apart and lifts one leg over his shoulder. Your fingers dig into the soft sheets with anticipation and you only break the intense eye contact to watch his tongue trace his bottom lip. He hooks your other leg over his shoulder and drags you to the very edge of the bed, getting comfortable on his knees.
“Is this where you want me?” he asks, but you don’t deign to answer him. “Kneeling before my queen.”
“Something tells me you don’t mind being there at all,” you answer tightly and his hands stroke up and down your calves lovingly. Bucky presses one kiss to your inner thighs, taking in a big whiff of air and groaning at the smell of your arousal.
“There is something about eating a meal on my knees that speaks to me,” he drawls, his eyes settling on said meal, only covered by the thin fabric of your panties. He presses another kiss, right over the damp fabric. You shudder.
“Then eat,” you bite back, scrambling to hang onto your power as a queen.
Bucky gives a wide grin, keeping his eyes on your soaking core. His hand lifts and his finger loops into the fabric, making you bite your lip painfully hard at the brief touch. He pulls the fabric to the side, spreading your legs enough for him to dive in, but not doing so yet. “That is no way to speak to your soldiers.”
Your soldier, Bucky supposes after today he is. You’re torture. Your smell, your voice, your body, the sheer power you have over him – over everyone.
Your hand finds his hair and you rake your fingers through the thick, brown tresses. Your eyes are soft when Bucky looks up to find them. “Will you take the honour of being my soldier?”
You’re genuine, he’s sure of it. Bucky can tell you’re asking him for so much more than just this. And considering his current predicament, he will consider his duties as your soldier later. Right now, he can only nod, entranced by the queen who has her legs wrapped around his head. He can only think of one duty right now and that is to rid you of all of that devastating warrior energy the only way he knows how.
Bucky buries his face between your legs and begins his feasting. Nudging his nose against your clit and prodding his tongue in and out of you. Licking every inch of your warm, wet, lovely cunt as if it’ll guarantee a place in your kingdom for him.
Sam will kill him for never returning home, but by the heavens, he can’t find it in him to care enough. Not with you tasting so heavenly and– fuck, those goddamn moans.
He was right, he was so fucking right. The slow and steady and longs thrusts make your body hiss in delight. The thorough swivel of his hips when he’s buried into you as far as possible, releases every bit of pent up energy that suffocates you. The sharp snap of his hips right as he’s about to hit home makes you shudder and sob, clenching around him every time as if you feel every thrust like the very first one.
Bucky strikes your deepest spot with each one, your hair between his fingers, your back arched to meet him and your cheek pressed into the mattress. Your eyes flutter painfully against your will, your toes curling when pleasure wraps around every abdominal muscle, your pussy spasming around him in need for release as the pressure between your hips grows to be unbearable.
The sounds that slip from your parted mouth sound inhumane. Soft and pitiful whimpers between huffs of breath. Oh God, oh God. You need him to slow down for a second, except he’s not going fast at all. He’s slow and deep and oh God, he’s so fucking deep.
You grapple for a grip in the sheets, any tether to reality slipping from your mind after every move he has already made. The last of your control, your power as a queen, slips away from you on a phantom wind, desire clouding every piece of domination inside of you. It’s all his now, you are all his now.
Within a short second, you get hauled up by your hair, arched against his heaving, sweaty chest until his mouth nips at your earlobe. Your hands grab his hips behind you, nails digging into his firm skin.
“You still there, my queen?” he coos, and you feel his grin as his mouth grazes over your neck possessively. Your answer is the harsh tightening of your nails into him and the groan he lets out makes you clench around him wantonly. “Oh, somewhere. You’re somewhere in that sex-riddled brain of yours. Losing your mind a little, are you?”
You swear you mean to speak a sentence – a word, at least – but the sound that comes out sounds like another garbled moan and Bucky laughs at your demise. He quickly presses a loving kiss to your shoulder, a deep thrust settling him so deep inside of you, you flutter helplessly around him.
“Don’t worry,” he hums, another deep thrust following as the hand in your hair slips to securely grip your throat and move your ear back to his mouth. “Next time, I will let you take the reigns. You can tie me to the bed and use me to make yourself come. I’m looking forward to it, actually.” You pulse around him and he snickers. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Prefer to have control and use the ones that serve you.” He bites your ear softly and squeezes your throat. “Oh, but you look so pretty like this. Don’t take this away from me, sweetheart.”
It's a whirlwind of emotions that rush through you at his words. You feel his desperation to have you like this seep through his ignorant confidence having you exactly like he wants you. The last of your working brain cells are screaming yes, yes, yes at his request. You’ll let him have you like this every day for the rest of your life. And it flashes before your eyes, him waking you up by slowly fucking you, hand back in your hair and lazy mouth muttering filthy things against your skin. God, he’s filthy.
Your vision is swirling as his pace picks up and blood flow to your brain is slightly limited by his grip. Ecstasy is rushing through your head and limbs with heavy tingles, and your moans raise in pitch. The metal hand bruising your hips with its possessive grip, slides between your legs and messily toys with your clit, the feeling making you want to buckle over.
“Shit!” you gasp and throw your head back into his shoulder, thighs quaking at the stimulation. Too much, it’s too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every inch of him glide in and out of you with an ease and precision that feels degrading and embarrassing. Bucky’s breath is equally laboured now and his grip on you turns from possessive to desperate, like he cannot get enough of you into his hands.
“Come for me again, my queen,” he purrs in your ear, knowing what that term now does to you, and you nod blindly. Following his command blindly, unable to resist the feeling of his deep thrusts and his firm circles on your clit any longer, you let the warmth of your orgasm consume you. You tremble and shake and stiffen at his touch and he doesn’t stop. “Come on, keep coming. Keep fucking coming, baby.”
You choke out a sob, surely drawing blood with your nails as you gasp for air, for any word to make him ease up on you, but he only stops when you buckle over and your trembling form succumbs to the sheets below you. Curled up on the sheets, bearing the waves of pleasure that haunt your every nerve, you feel Bucky’s exhausted and sex-glazed eyes watching you carefully. You faintly feel the trickle of him come pulsing out of you and it nearly makes you smile.
Two hands, one scorching with heat and one a welcome cool, gently stroke up the sides of your thighs, cooing sounds coming from Bucky as he watches you come back to your senses. Lips follow his soothing touches, warm kisses being pressed to your quickly cooling skin.
“How’s that post-fight energy?” he asks softly and your eyes finally flutter open to meet his curious ones, the blue shimmering with… Pride.
“Fuck,” you pant, “you.”
He laughs, “Again?”
You breathe a soft laugh and he at last presses a kiss to your lips. If you had the energy, you know your body would betray you by lifting your head to chase his lips.
You finally let out a defeated sigh, letting the corners of your mouth lift to a lazy smile. “Thank you.”
“At your disposal,” he mutters back with slight amusement and you open your eyes again to look at him. God, he’s beautiful.
“Are you,” you dare to ask, earnest in your eyes, “at my disposal…?”
“It would be an honour.”
“Likewise.”
“That is more than I’ve ever had before.”
“The honour?”
He nods. And then leans in, his mouth brushing your ear as your eyes flutter closed again, goosebumps rising over your skin. “I will bow for you any day,” he breathes softly, “my queen.”
2K notes · View notes
tofixtheshadows · 3 days
Text
The thing to me about Kabru's ambiguous eating disorder is that, well, how could you take any pleasure in eating when all your worst memories are of the most violent and taboo acts of eating there are? The desecration of the dead, the mauling and devouring of living bodies, the implication of cannibalism when the dead rose as new monsters to eat their own kin. Humans becoming food. How could eating ever be a source of casual comfort for you after witnessing that? After you watched predators tear into your own mother's body?
The horror of Senshi's past hinges on his fear that he was a cannibal, but he grew up to care deeply about cooking and nutrition and feeding others because the real trauma was starvation, which breaks past the taboo of cannibalism. And so he makes sure that he and the people around him do not starve.
The horror of Kabru's past is one of excess. An entire people wiped out because they were made into food, into piles of corpses and blood soaking the land, with the gluttony of a demon's endless appetite behind it. And Kabru grows up to deprive himself so utterly that he's willing to die for a cause, to make his own life worth something.
168 notes · View notes
hakusins · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'M IN SHAMBLES!!!!
191 notes · View notes
suffersinfandom · 2 months
Text
I don't care when people have takes that don't agree with mine or love characters that I don't. What does get under my skin is when people are smug and self-congratulatory about a take that's just wrong.
"The story of the show in season one was that it was a bunch of people with conflicting personalities shoved onto a boat together."
The story has always centered Stede, Ed, and their relationship. The initial idea of it came from the fruitiness of historical Stede Bonnet and Blackbeard's whole situation, and David Jenkins always meant for it to be a romance about those two guys. (He talks about it in this interview. The romance wasn't added partway through filming, it was changed because of the way Rhys and Taika played it.)
"Season two of OFMD was an ensemble show and season two wasn't."
OFMD was never an ensemble show. Stede and Ed are the primary characters and everyone else, however much we love them, is secondary. Even Jim, the only other character who gets a flashback and a through-line in season one, is a supporting character. And their story is fantastic! It's about finding a place where you can be who you are, learning who you are beyond assigned roles, and finding belonging and family -- and that's also what our A-plot is about. Jim's story supports the main story.
The crew does have considerably more screen time in season one, and that's because season one has more time. I truly, sincerely wish that season two had the space to feature the crew the way season one did because I love almost all of them and wanted more of them. I think that the crew's relative absence in season two is, overall, to the show's detriment.
But let's think, just for a second, about why there was less time devoted to the crew in a season that was much shorter. If the crew's storyline was the main one and if all characters were equally important, why did David choose to spend the time he had focusing on Ed, Stede, and their relationship? Is it because he lost the plot of his own show?
No.
Season two is shorter. Cuts had to be made, so David cut back on the crew's stories and kept the main story -- the Gentlebeard story -- intact. A writer does not sacrifice their primary story for subplots. When you show me that season two has more Gentlebeard per episode, you're not proving that the nature or focus of the show changed. You're underscoring the importance of the story that has always been the show's center.
If you liked the show better when it had more time to commit to the supporting cast, that's okay. I sincerely don't mind that some people liked season two less because it was heavier on the Gentlebeard. I just don't understand why it's so important to downplay the importance of Ed and Stede in the first season. OFMD has always been their show, and insisting that that's not true is bonkers to me.
Literally no one is saying that Ed and Stede should be the only characters onscreen. No one who loves Gentlebeard hates the crew; I'm deep into Gentlebeardie tumblr and there's tons of love for every single character (with maybe one exception). No one is saying that Ed did nothing wrong or Izzy is the devil incarnate or time given to characters who aren't Stede and Ed is time wasted.
There is a right answer when we're talking about what OFMD is about and who the main characters are.
Also: anyone who's still struggling to understand Anne and Mary's importance should read this. Atticus wrote a lovely and concise essay that ought to clear everything up.
Also also: anyone who harasses people, anonymously or not, is the worst kind of fan. There are no fandom opinions that warrant racism, transphobia, homophobia, doxxing, etc.
135 notes · View notes
izpira-se-zlato · 4 months
Text
Not gonna do a full analysis but --
Tumblr media
something something Jure "the band is my better half" Maček
Jure who's been the most outspoken (to my knowledge) that he's not looking for a relationship. That he doesn't have a girlfriend and doesn't want one. That he chooses hookups.
Something something sex appeal and yet here, half-naked, he's just himself, surrounded by the band
Something something Jan and Nace getting lost in each other, their shots mirroring each other something something Jure choosing the band but different from the way Jan and Nace chose each other in the photo shoot
122 notes · View notes
leserafim · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
LE SSERAFIM in <BLOODY ROSE> "UNFORGIVEN" Concept Photos
659 notes · View notes
morgana-lefay · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Du Riechst So Gut (1998) vs Ich Hasse Kinder (2021)
116 notes · View notes
dol-dee · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
All my fellas! I did it lads, here's the lineup
I cut a lotta corners by using a lot of corners by reusing the heads I made and just not bothering with much polish dfdsfds My brains cooking on Eden and Bailey rn so I might add them once they've fermented enough but no guarantees
Alex (F/M): 160cm Whitney(F/M): 182cm < 3cm smaller than Dee bc they'd be very annoyed by that, me thinks Kylar(F/M): 150cm dol!Dee (pc): 185cm < my canon oc is 155cm tall lmao Sydney (F/M): 170cm Avery (F): 180cm Harper (F/M): 201cm
not pictured: Robin (F/M): 167cm Eden(F): 190cm < although I might make her a bit taller? we'll see
61 notes · View notes
koushuwu · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a quick araki for @prettyiwa i'm sorry i didn't do more but he's not cooporating. anyway ily
41 notes · View notes
lovvecherrymotion · 4 months
Text
i've had more than one friend harassed over fanfic/shipping now and i'm so fucking done.
i know i don't have a lot of followers and i'd hope most people around here don't do it but if you think this is in any way acceptable, unfollow me. there are real people behind the screen and bullying them and sending them hate is not justifiable at all.
if you don't like something, unfollow/block/ignore. move along.
44 notes · View notes
troiings · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Myanna Buring as Kim in 97 Minutes (2023)
34 notes · View notes
shirozora-draws · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Listen.
I can explain. I saw a Tumblr post about shoulder kisses a month ago if the time stamp on my Discord messages are anything to go by. Then I saw a very evocative quote tweet about eroticism. And I, uh, I was feeling really spiteful. If you know, you know.
Anyway, I lost two days of writing and a lot of sleep to this. Rip my fucking sanity.
524 notes · View notes
mogoce-nocoj · 2 months
Text
joking about wanting Joker Out to troll us and not open with SSOL but have it as an encore is all fun and games until you're actually standing there and they don't open with SSOL and you wonder if you're really not gonna hear it live in goddamn London
41 notes · View notes
angry-geno-is-score · 2 months
Text
Thanks for tagging me, lovely @dwisp! Love you always!!
The Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your most recent unposted WIP with zero context.
“Shh, it’s okay. Try this now,” Jay soothes when Vince lets out a pitiful, pleading whine. The water is replaced at his lips. Vince gulps at it frantically, too stupid and too desperate to notice that it tastes just the slightest bit strange. He drinks everything the cup has to offer, and then he drinks more when Jay gives him some from the first cup. He’s so focused on the relief of finally having water, so distracted by the softness of the surface he’s laying on and the gentle way Jay is talking to him and the warmth of the arm supporting his neck and shoulders, that he doesn’t notice how heavy his mind is becoming once again. “There he goes,” Fran’s voice says. “I wish we didn’t have to trick him,” Jay laments quietly, his voice sounding as if it’s coming from underwater now. “I wish we didn’t have to drug him like they did.” That’s the last thing Vince hears before he’s dead to the world once again.
The Rules say zero context so zero context. :)
(Krakencord friends know where this is from.)
Tagging @noxsoulmate, @dijkstraspath, and @2dunner9
19 notes · View notes