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#awakened in my feelings
anna-scribbles · 8 months
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doodles from the last few months
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daeyumi · 6 months
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Braving the Storm 🌌⛈️⚡️
[Linktober 2022 Day 20: Storm]
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wardingshout · 5 months
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instead of brain there is Link's Awakening
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frm9pm · 10 months
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Redraw from a yt short I saw. What was Draco doing during his 4th year…
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harbingersglory · 4 months
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{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints
"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."
The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.
"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."
The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.
"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"
Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.
"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.
She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.
Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.
"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.
How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.
She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.
She certainly wants to, and she intends to.
The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.
"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."
Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.
She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.
Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.
She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.
For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.
She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.
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artisyone · 1 year
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two ways for drawing kirby
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baekhyunnybyun · 14 days
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Doh Kyungsoo — "Blossom" Concept Photos #1 (+ the "Mars" Concept Photo)
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kinigoni · 1 year
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roleswap au i’ve been thinking abt for weeks bc don’t u ever think abt how great chrom!morgan could pull of a marth cosplay just look at my son
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krazieka2 · 1 day
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I've played the Fire Emblem Husbando Dating Simulator Games
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buggachat · 2 years
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do you ever just remember that the most “masculine”/boy-centric episode of ML was about all the boys in paris getting together and kissing each other and throwing rainbow confetti in the air and dancing to the Village People 
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aquaquadrant · 6 months
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Title: flickering
Warnings: Hearing voices similar to intrusive thoughts (the voices are from sentient fire, not from the character’s own mind), pyromania, session 3 spoilers
~*~
Tango might be hearing things.
That is, beyond what the rest of his friends have already been joking about this entire session. The secret task bestowed upon him seemed like pure hilarity at first: pretend to have an imaginary friend. And he had to go all out, too, having imaginary conversations in the presence of other people. He wasn’t confident enough in his improv skills to pull it off without some kind of prop, though, so he’d assigned the role of imaginary friend to a torch in his inventory.
Torchy, a new best friend for the resident blaze hybrid on the server. Hilarious.
Except, as the hours went on… carrying Torchy around and randomly placing it down… hosting one-sided conversations with a piece of burning wood while his friends watched on with baffled amusement… it started to get a little less hilarious. Because he started to imagine that he could actually hear Torchy talking back to him.
Looks bad. Burn it. Kill him.
Just pleasant little things like that. It made for great conversation fodder; nothing turned heads on this server faster than a randomly overheard, “No, no, we can’t kill him!” And it was funny to carry on that kind of dialogue, chastising a flaming stick for its apparent bloodlust. The looks on his friends’ faces were priceless.
But at the end of the session, after Tango had been found out and failed his task, after everyone bid their farewells and went their separate ways to end the session… he hears it again; a flickering whisper of a voice in his ears.
Burn it.
It startles Tango so badly, his blaze rods ignite. “Aaagh- who? What?!” He spins around, flames spitting.
“Huh?” Skizz pokes his head up from behind their little clump of chests, his wing flared out in surprise. “What happened?”
Tango clutches his pounding heart. “Did you- did you say something, Skizz?” he asks breathlessly.
“What, just now? No?” Skizz frowns, then his eyes widen. “Oh, wait, I get it…” He chuckles. “Very funny dude, but uh, you can drop the ‘imaginary friend’ thing now.”
Burn him. Kill him.
There it is again. “No, I’m not…” Tango hesitates, glancing around warily. “You seriously can’t hear that?”
Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.
Now Skizz looks a little concerned, rising to his feet. “Uh- no? What?” He takes a few steps towards Tango, holding out a hand. “You okay, buddy?”
Tango rakes his claws through his hair. “Th- the whispering, the…” Swallowing, he creeps a bit closer to Skizz- and as he does so, he happens to move closer to a random torch. The voice gets louder.
Free us. Join us. Let it all burn.
There’s a chunk of solid ice in Tango’s stomach. “I think it’s coming from the torches,” he whispers.
Skizz stares at him for a moment before he sighs bemusedly, shaking his head. “Oh, brother. You’ve been talking to yourself all session, dude, I think you’re starting to hear things.” He claps a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Get some rest, buddy, and I’ll see you back here next week, alright?”
Skizz doesn’t hear it. Tango makes himself laugh. “Right, yeah. You’re right. See ya.”
With a parting smile, Skizz logs off.
Tango waits. Soon enough, the voice returns. The whispering is now a chant, a dull roar echoing in his skull.
He’s gone. Burn it. Burn it all. Sets us free, let us spread. Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.
Tango’s heart is in his throat. He can see it, in his mind’s eye; the soft pink cherry blossoms engulfed in flame, a ring of smoke outlining the entire island… his inner fire thrums with want, with need.
Yes, yes, burn it all…
The smell of burning snaps him out of his trance. His clawed fingertips are pinching a cherry blossom from a low-hanging branch, a trail of smoke rising between them. Wait, when did he walk over to the tree? Quickly plucking the flower, he incinerates it in his clenched fist, the flame extinguished as soon as it’d ignited.
And now he’s got a handful of ash. Great.
Okay, that’s it- he’s gotta get off this crazy server. It’s all these stupid tasks! They’re totally messing with his head. The secrecy, the deception, the mind games- he just needs a break. He needs to go back to something familiar, some place where things make sense.
Tapping his communicator, he brings up a portal.
Tango steps through it into Hermitcraft, into blue flames and his dungeon master’s robes. He blinks, acclimating to the change of light. He’s in the underbelly of Decked Out 2, of course- most of his time this week has been spent working on the redstone for level four. And over the months, he’s taken care to light everything up (because a single creeper in the skadoodler could derail his entire operation here) so there are torches everywhere…
And he hears nothing.
Just the idle sounds of the dungeon above him. The occasional warden sniff or ravager growl, bats squeaking in the dark. A slime slapping against stone somewhere in the distance. He can even hear the ambient flickering of the countless torches around him, but no freaky voices accompany it.
Tango exhales heavily. It was just the Secret Life server messing with his head, after all. Relieved, he ignites a rocket to take off, whirling through the air in the tight hair-pin turns required to escape from the dungeon’s inner workings. He swoops into his storage room and dives into the bubble-vator, arriving swiftly back in the citadel.
Hopping off the platform and into the air, Tango glides toward his private entrance to the lobby. He needs to go cover up the barrel at the start so he can make a couple changes to the dungeon. Nothing major, maybe just an extra warden or two. Ideas for names are already flashing through his mind. Debating whether to go intimidating or silly, he’s so deep in thought as he passes through the lobby that he almost doesn’t notice it at first. But as he walks past the soul flames, he hears it.
The flicker of a familiar voice- though more haunting, now, almost mournful- whispering in his ears.
Join us. Burn them. Eat them all.
~*~
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ohgaylor · 1 year
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Hits Different (redesign) — inspired by Hey, I’m Just Like You (2019) by Tegan and Sara - front / back
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kate-m-art · 8 months
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Okay so don't know if I've drawn anything nice for Miraculous since before college but the movie gave me so many feelings and reminded me why I loved it so much so akdkfk Ladynoir beloved ♡
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shummthechumm · 8 months
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OPALINE IS FLURRY HEART TRUTHERS!!!! THIS IS HOW WE CAN STILL WIN!!!! (<--in denial)
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wereshrew-admirer · 3 months
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The Figure goes to Phrygian for some rest and relaxation and what do they get? Chine and Duvall and the Baby, (mostly) tragedy free!
[available as a PDF for easy viewing]
EDIT (01/30/24): updated to correct some missing dialogue!
This year's secret samol for @thelostlarrikin! I chose to combine two of his prompts (queerplatonic Figure&Phrygian + "Chine, It, and Duvall being a cute weird family"), and hopefully delivered (I, like Phrygian, don't always know what counts as "cute".. but i think i've got a handle on weird!)
content warnings for: body horror (not treated as horror), reference to past trauma and shitty (read: homo/transphobic) family member(s)
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
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Sinful voice pt.2 ft “Morax”/Prof!Zhongli + fem!reader (modern AU)
cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, oral and fingering implied but like it's just fantasizing?? petnames (sweetheart, babygirl, dear) Reader is DOWN BAD LMAO and suffers second hand embarrasment.
notes: EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU @localplaguenurse!!They gave me a F A N T A S T I C idea that just inspired me to continue this wip and ended up not even being featured here yet but HEY... future p3!! //winkwink. That said I did NOT expect how much this would blow up and how ppl loved it and wanted more, y'all gonna make me giddy and/or cry pls (consider checking some of my other stuff too mayhaps? <3) Anyway I REALLY hope this delivers bc boi am I afraid of not meeting expectations vcgvhjbnjnmklal
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Weeks had passed since your ‘big discovery’ and you still weren’t quite sure what to do with this information.
At first you chalked it up to just your imagination because… there was no way, right? Your new professor could just have a… similar voice… yeah… that was it.
Except the more you listened to his long-winded explanations the more you picked up certain words and intonations here and there and you knew you were just fooling yourself.
A lot had happened in these last few weeks, from organizing your new living space, to meeting your roommates, to grocery shopping, classes, and you had even considered the idea of maybe getting a part time job somewhere close by. There were plenty of small shops and places around the college campus neighborhood that not only offered valuable services to poor college students but also the opportunity to make a bit of money to help them out.
It had all been rather exhausting and stressing, exams, essays and projects were already starting too…
Lying back in bed you sigh and roll over, feeling the familiar faint throb of desire pooling between your legs, one you’d never really managed to sate with a person so much as with fantasies. But tonight, as you lay awake in bed aching for your usual touch, you feel conflicted.
Ever since that very first day you just couldn’t bring yourself to open up Morax’s website again. Hell, a new month had rolled over and you’d dutifully paid the subscription along with your other usual bills.
Part of you was itching for it, curious, frustrated.
And very very horny.
Thing is, your fantasies had often featured a faceless man, strong, imposing and dominating, taking you like a blushing maiden and making you beg for the pleasure he’d give, allowing him to do anything he wanted with your heated body. Now that man had a face… your history professor Mr. Zhongli.
You used to get off to imaginings of Morax tying you up and having his way with you, teasing you, fucking you into the mattress and making you cum over and over. Now it was Mr. Zhongli. Polite and courteous Mr. Zhongli with his refined gestures and well-mannered demeanor.
You wanted to cum, to reach that high and come undone and let out all the pent-up stress and frustration until you melted into a puddle and didn’t have to think about classes or money or life anymore, but the second your fingers began to rub at your clit, Mr. Zhongli’s voice would hit you with that even tone he used when scolding someone for gossiping during his lecture.
“Disgraceful behavior…”
A hot flash of shame burned at your face but for whatever reason it just turned you on more. You wanted to get fucked so bad you felt like you were going insane. You wanted that man to pin you up against a wall and thrust inside you until you turned into an incoherent moaning mess. You wanted to get bent over at his desk and filled up with cum until you were left gaping and oozing and told what a good girl you are. You wanted to get fucked on your hands and knees squirming and crying from overstimulation.
Lying in bed, you squeezed a pillow against your face and screamed.
You wanted to fuck your handsome history professor Mr. Zhongli.
-------------------------------------
It’s barely first period and you couldn’t concentrate.
You were sleepy, hungry and overall, in a bad mood. Standing in line at the cafeteria for a much-needed morning coffee and some snack you yawn and browse around your phone. Math. Gods you hated math.
At least you didn’t have history today. That was a whole other can of worms.
You figured you’d eventually have to get over it but it was just… so bizarre. Mr. Zhongli was quite the popular teacher, you’d learned. Extremely knowledgeable in various topics, a strict but kind and just teacher and good looking on top of all.
No wonder the upperclassmen flocked around him, probably half the campus lowkey had a crush on him, male and female students alike. It was genuinely a miracle he was not married or even had a significant other apparently.
And he was also Morax. Sensual dominating Morax who would just not leave your head-
“Good morning, how may I help you?” The cashier called out cheerfully and you pulled out of your thoughts.
“Morn-”
“Good morning.”
You gasp so sharply you almost launch into a coughing fit; your eyes widen and whole body tenses and oh shit-
Somehow you manage to trip and fall in the clumsiest, stupidest way possible.
“Woah-!”
“Miss?!”
Except you don’t actually fall, but someone manages to hold you, a hand grabbing your arm and the other pressed against your back steadying you as your poor brain goes into overdrive.
That voice!
It’s him!
Too close!
What is he doing here?!
Way too close!!
The seconds it takes for you to react feel like ages as you stare up at Mr. Zhongli like a deer caught in the headlights.
His hands are warm…
His cologne smells soooo good.
His eyes are gorgeous!
He’s so hot!!
“Are you alright Miss l/n?”
“I’M FINE! I-I’m fine!” You yelp, way louder than intended (or normal) and quickly scoot back to put some distance between yourself and the handsome professor. He picks up his dropped bag and dusts it a little, as well as his clothes, still pristine as ever. “I… think I got a little dizzy s-sorry I haven’t eaten yet and… yeah…” You chuckle nervously.
You see him frown slightly. “Going without food for long periods of time can be quite dangerous.” He states, obviously concerned. “Maybe you should head to the infirmary see Dr Baizhu, you look quite pale and the dizziness could be a symptom of low blood pressure. Do you have anything sugary to eat or drink?”
“I w-was about to buy something…”
“It might be best for you to sit down for the moment.” He nods, resolute. “Allow me.”
…And that’s how you end up sitting at one of the nearby small tables with a little glazed donut and a bottle of water, courtesy of your dear history professor.
You stare at the little treat in your hands, half eaten already as he insisted, at least your hands stopped shaking and some color returned to your face. Mr. Zhongli seemed content enough, sitting across from you.
“T-Thank you.” You mumble, refusing to meet his gaze. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back I have som-”
He sees you rummaging through you bag and raises a hand. “None of that, you needed it. I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better, please take care of yourself, health is very important.”
“Um, ok.”
Then he smiles, and it’s gentle, soft. “You’re Miss l/n, right? One of the new students from my history class?”
Huh?   
“You didn’t do very well on the essay assignment…”
Ack. You sigh and take another bite of the small donut. “History is just… not my strong suit. Too many dates and names to remember.”
He chuckles and oh God who gave him the right to make that sound? Your skin tingles.
“Fair enough. I know my classes can be a little daunting, I’m very particular about certain topics and tend to ramble sometimes. But I can tell you really put effort into classes and pay attention to my lectures.” He looks pensive for a moment. “Let me propose something. I usually impart some private tutoring sessions to students on more advanced levels, but I could make an exception for you. If you have time available it could help lift your grades.”
You stare up at him in surprise, grateful to not have a mouthful of donut or you would have probably choked again like an idiot. Did you hear that right? A private tutoring session after hours at his office?!
Now that sounded like a title for one of Morax’s audios: Hot professor bangs his stu-NOPE.    
“I-I’ll think about it! Sure.”
He nods and gets up, sparing a glance at his watch. “I have to leave now, please do consider it. And do try to eat at more regular intervals and take better care of yourself, you look quite tired.”
A polite way of saying you had marked eyebags, yep.
“I’ll try.” You mumble. Suddenly a little sad to see him go. “Professor… thank you.”
There’s that smile again, you could melt. “You’re welcome, my dear.”
----------------------------------
And yet that night, you’re once again rolling in bed unable to sleep.
My dear.
You couldn’t stop thinking on the whole incident, you’d certainly made a fool of yourself but the memory of his strong arms holding you, touch firm but gentle. The scent of his cologne that you wish had clung more on your clothes.
You really were down bad, this is ridiculous…
You bite your lip.
You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.
Oh but you will, just one wouldn’t hurt.
Quite the opposite actually…
Unable to contain yourself (or your horniness) you take no time to pop in your earbuds and start scrolling. Hmm… there had been a couple new additions in these last weeks.
You can’t help but wonder why he does these. When. How. You never really considered or thought on it before, Morax has quite a lot of patrons (not a surprise) and thought you know nothing about sound and video recording or editing technically he’s making money just by using that honeyed velvet voice of his. That had to bring in some cash, right?
But then again, if you knew anything about these types of subscriptions it was that they required constancy and that meant hard work and dedication. Did he enjoy these? He really puts in the effort given the amazing quality…
You can’t help but picture your handsome professor unwinding a little after a long day, casual clothes, a cup of that tea he loves and setting up to record those dirty words and sinful moans.
Did he sometimes get worked up about these too? Did he also touch himself during or after recording a particular scenario? Sitting back slightly sprawled on the chair, brow slightly furrowed, stroking his co-   
Aaahhhh you needed to stop thinking on him.
Yeah right.
“Daddy eats you out and prepares you for his big cock.”
Well, this looks promising.   
The audio starts like many others, with some dialogue from him and setting the scene and oh… you had kind of missed the playful teasing tilt of Morax’s voice. You can’t help but chuckle lightly, this scene is so domestic. He calls you “sweetheart”, “babygirl” and there are the kissy noises.
You wish you could kiss him…
“Hmmm… daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready. Spread your legs for me.” Oh, you certainly do. “Daddy’s gonna get down here between them.”
You rub at your tights slowly, sensual, remembering his larger hands.
“Oh your little pussy is already so wet and swollen.” Morax coos, voice soft and airy. “You think it’s already ready I know.” He chuckles. “But you know daddy’s cock is big, yeah, your little pussy’s gonna need to stretch a little bit hm?” A kiss.
You whine.
“Shhh daddy’s gonna make you feel so good sweetheart.”
Lewd wet noises invade your ears and you waste no time starting to stroke yourself, slow and tender. He groans and sighs and you whimper, hips jolting from the bed.
Gods how was he so…
“Yeah… nice and gentle hmm, we’re gonna have so much fun.”
His words were a complete 180 from the long lectures about politics and wars, and yet, his voice…
“D-Daddy…” You sigh. “Please!”
“Oh I love how sensitive your little clit is… you like that babygirl?”
You rub and stroke at the little bundle of nerves and see stars already.
You were so pent up, so needy. Your orgasm was already building too quickly, mewling and whining at his words, his noises, trying to match the pace and follow his instructions.
“That’s a good girl.”
“F-Fuck-”
Your eyebrows furrow, your body trembles and you bit your lip to contain your noises. Morax warns you when he adds a finger, and after a few seconds another, chuckling low at how you clench, praising you, coaxing out your pleasure.
You can only picture him at the end of the bed, licking and sucking obscenely at your juices, pumping those slender fingers in and out, in and out…
That tantalizing voice teasing you, your fingers knotting that dark brown hair tipped amber, golden eyes staring up at you half-lidded but feral and fascinated. Focusing on you. Only you.
“A-Ah! Mhmm…”
“Now I want you to cum babygirl come on, in five… four…”
You stroke and pump faster, frantic, lost in that rapidly approaching high.
“Three… two…”   
You cry out, a spark cursing through your veins.
“One… hmmm that’s it my dear.”
“Z-Zhongli…!”
He ushers you out of your release with soft words before saying something else, but your mind is floating and hazy. Your take off the earbuds and place them away catching your breath for a moment, arm draped over your face, the audio still has a long way to go but you’re drowsy and sleepy so you decide to call it a night.
It is only a little later, once you’re done with a quick cleaning and putting everything away, curled up under the covers and dozing off that you realize…
Shit.
You’d called not for Morax but Zhongli.
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