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#keeper
vintagecandy · 2 months
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So I've been sort of in a rut lately uh-- and when that happens I know I need to stop every bigger project and just draw whatever random thing I most feel like. this is my equivalent of doodling monsters on my math homework but its angels
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andatsea · 4 months
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The frame.
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Twitter / Shop / INPRNT / Patreon
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dieselpvnk · 2 months
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hello all (unspecified amount i lost track of) tboi slugcats enjoyers
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seashellisinmyheart · 3 months
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It ticks me off to no end that Chemach isn't in the offical art book.
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subspaceemo · 1 year
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I wake up next to my date, hard and wet and still plugged. They fucked me so good last night that my body aches as much as it craves more. I turn to face them, delicately tracing my fingers over their cheek, their lips, kissing them softly. They blink awake after a few moments and cradle the back of my neck, pulling me close and kissing me hard, "morning." I whimper into their mouth and roll my hips, their gaze tracks down my naked body and they slide their hand over my hairy stomach and catch my cock between their fingers. "what a needy boy." Tugging it in a wicked rhythm that has me bucking into their hand, they guide my hand to their erection and kiss me breathlessly as I stroke them, "good boy, that's it." I whimper and groan, "please, please fuck me." they laugh lightly, "God you're so easy," they climb on top of me, pinning me to the bed by my hips, rolling a condom onto their cock. My chest heaves, I roll my hips under them, feeling the plug shift inside me and god I'm so horny I feel crazy with need. "such a keeper, waking me up ready to fuck." They smile as they sink their cock into my slick cunt, so wet it slides in with no resistance, and I let out a gasp of ecstasy as I feel so incredibly full with their thickness rubbing against the plug in my ass. They lean down on top of me, a hand either side of my head and drive deeper with every pulse. I buck back against them, the wet sound of flesh slapping flesh filling the room as slam into me. "you hear that? Your wet cunt thanking me for every thrust with a splutter?" they ask, squeezing my throat in one hand and spitting in my open, gasping mouth. Oh fuck. It feels so good, so fucking good. "I'm gonna cum," I whimper and they grin, "yes you are, you dirty boy, you fuckin slut, gonna cum on my cock again, aren't you? Needy little slut, always clenching on my cock. Go on then, cum for me." I cum with a yell, wrapping my arms and legs around them, pulling them into a clumsy kiss. I gasp as they keep moving their hips, grinding into my sensitive dick now we're flush against one another, "good boy, there's plenty more where that came from, right?" they flex their fingers around my throat and I whimper, nod. God, they're perfect. Such a keeper.
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wow-youre-so-pretty · 1 month
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Still trying to figure out what Keefe did that was so relevant in the Forbidden Cities. Like he probably wore a sombrero played ukulele and pet cats the whole time.
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awksbush · 5 months
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JRWITOBER DAY 28: SLIME(CICLE)
KEEPER CHARLIE YIPPEEEEEE
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dertherck · 1 month
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I'm probably not going in this specific direction with this specific character anymore, but it would be a shame to let it rot in my WIPs
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sgtxavi · 3 months
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middle school isaac au
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letsgolandoo · 4 months
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Omg thank you sooooo much for writing!! <3 Absolutely love the Puddlemere setting! And “I'm breaking up with you, or, dinner at eight?” part totally cracked me up 🤣 I wouldn’t dare change perfection! But I am however now curious as to what would happen if some guy was really checking the reader out 🤣
Let's find out, shall we? This took so long I'm sorry 😭
Oliver Wood never zoned out. He was a quidditch player, he didn't have the time to. If he did, he'd either let a quaffle through one of the three hoops, or he'd get hit by a bludger if one of the Weasley twins didn't get to it in time.
Fred Weasley sighed as he realised how little his quidditch captain had been listening to him talk about strategies to use to win their next game against Slytherin. "You know, I hate to admit it, but George is right. You do have a staring problem."
"No, I don't," Oliver said, so defensively that it sounded as if it was the most absurd and offensive thing he had ever heard, and his voice even went up an octave.
Fred said, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."
Oliver released a sarcastic chuckle. After being hit by bludgers from all directions, and letting in more quaffles than he could count in his first year or two as a keeper, there was nothing in the grounds of Hogwarts that could hurt him. He was put out, maybe, but not hurt. "I'm fine, Fred. Why would I be hurt?" He didn't say he was good, or great, he said he was 'fine' because that's how he hid how unstable his relationship with his girlfriend was. Fine. But wasn't that how everyone else answered the common question of 'how are you?', anyway? I'm fine, thank you, how are you?
Fred jerked his head in the direction that Oliver had been not so subtly staring at for the past ten minutes.
And there you were, in all your glory. Even wearing the Gryffindor colours - red and gold - like everyone else, you stood out.
He looked at you again and noticed the thing that had been irritating him. You were still talking to him. He hated the boy, and he hadn't even met him. And he had reasons for it - not good ones, but still reasons.
Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit?
Who the hell even wears a suit at a party with loud, rowdy teenagers?
Who the hell goes to a Gryffindor party when they're not a Gryffindor?
You were still smiling and talking with the Ravenclaw boy. That was okay. You loved to talk, and you smiled at everyone. What wasn't okay, however, was the way the boy was not so subtly checking you out.
"Oliver, why don't you just talk to her?" For a moment, Oliver is taken aback. He had forgotten that Fred was still sitting beside him.
"Tell who, what?" Oliver feigned nonchalance, averting his eyes from you.
Fred chuckled. "How many hers do you have in your life, Ollie?" None, Oliver thought, just her.
"I know many people who go by 'she/her'. You're going to have to be more specific."
"Sure. How many 'hers' do you stare at?"
"None," he replied, a little too fast for his liking, and Fred gave him the knowing Weasley smirk that he was so used to at quidditch practice.
"I am not staring at anyone, Fred." He gave the younger boy a pointed look.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Oliver. But I'd talk to her before it's too late. These rumours have damaged your relationship enough, all you need to do is show her that that's all it is - a rumour. She needs to know that you're not cheating on her with Angelina, who is, by the way, my girlfriend, so these rumours better be fake. I will not hesitate to punch that handsome face of yours."
Before he even knew what he was doing, Oliver was out of his chair and walking towards the bar. You laughed at something the blond boy said before you noticed Oliver walking towards the both of you. Your smile grew wider but was clearly slightly forced.
"Hey," he greeted you, completely ignoring the boy standing beside you.
"Hey, Ollie. Please tell me Fred didn't talk your ear off about skiving snack boxes. Being a prefect is hard, I can't bring myself to confiscate any more. Pranks are what make them who they are," you said.
The awkward clearing of a throat brought both of your attention back to the boy standing beside you.
"Oh, I am so sorry. Ollie, this is Finley. Do you remember the posters for the transfiguration club that Professor McGonagall put on the noticeboard?"
Oliver simply nodded, not at all interested in the boy's identity.
"He's the one who leads it with her." You introduce him to Finley, while Oliver seemed as uninterested as humanly possible and instead looked as if he would rip the boy's head off if he could.
"Hi, Ollie, I've...heard a lot about you." Finley said, clearly indicating that he had heard the ongoing rumours. He reached out a hand for Oliver to shake, but it was ignored.
"Oliver." He replied with a stern look on his face.
Finley awkwardly withdrew his hand. "Sorry?"
"My name is Oliver. It's only shortened for friends." If looks could kill, Finley would have fallen dead at the beginning of the party.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Oliver, the famous Gryffindor quidditch captain."
"I wish I could say the same, Finley, the not-so-famous transfiguration club captain. What are you even doing here? You're a Ravenclaw." Oliver asks, annoyed.
You sigh. Here he goes, you thought. "Ollie, he's here to spread word about the club."
"You've been standing here the whole time, you must be very talented if you've managed to tell anyone here about your stupid turn-your-teacup-into-a-cat club." Oliver muttered.
"The whole spreading word about it is just an excuse, really," Finley said, ignoring Oliver. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful girl." He then winked at you. "Clearly, I was successful."
You flushed at his words and your eyes darted to Oliver. His jaw was tense and his hands were clenched into fists. If the three of you were not in school, let alone standing in a room full of so many people, Oliver would have picked up the empty Butterbeer bottle from the nearby table and smashed it on Finley's head with no hesitation.
He instead just said, "Well, then, you don't have a reason to stay any longer. Leave."
Finley shrugged. "I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit. Gryffindors sure know how to party. Ravenclaws need some tips."
"You should stay. Our parties are the best. We have all you want. Food, drinks, g-" you tell him, but get cut off.
Oliver interrupted. "But you know what's better? The exit. You should check it out. The Fat Lady can give you a tour."
"Ollie!" You shove his shoulder. "Can I talk to you in private?" You sent Finley an apologetic smile before grabbing Oliver's hand and pulling him away from the Ravenclaw.
Oliver paused for a moment to look back at Finley again. "The exit is that way." He pointed at the passage in the wall.
You let go of him when you reach the only secluded area in the Gryffindor common room. "Oliver, what the hell is wrong with you?"
He immediately spun to face you after craning his neck to see Finley finally exiting the room through the passage. "Oh, so now it's me who has something wrong? You're the one who believes the rumour that I slept with Angelina when a) she's dating Fred, b) she's not even been at Hogwarts this year because of family issues, and c) I love you."
You looked slightly alarmed at him suddenly turning on you. "Okay, I got it wrong, I'm sorry. I believed something when I didn't have any proof. But how does that excuse your behaviour towards Finley?"
"He was flirting with you," Oliver argued.
"Ollie, you're acting like a spoilt 5-year-old now. Why are you-?" You stopped yourself as an amused grin spread on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oliver, you- you are jealous."
"No, love, no I am not. Not even a little bit. No, why would you think that? I'm not jealous. I don't get jealous." Oliver shook his head.
You grinned at your boyfriend. "I would have believed you if you hadn't denied it six times. You are jealous. You're jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and I didn't spend the night with you for once. You're jealous that he called me beautiful and said I look amazing in the simplest things."
"When did he-" Oliver cut himself off as he felt the rage creeping into his voice. He took a step back and turned away.
You stood beside him, about to say something, but then you looked into his eyes. You took his hand once again, this time gently, lovingly, and held it to your chest. "Ollie, I am- I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Ollie, I am so-"
"I'm not jealous, okay?" He then turned to look you in the eyes. "I just hate it when someone else has your attention, especially someone who's flirting with you. Not because I'm jealous, but because I'm scared." Oliver swallowed, squeezing your hand.
"I'm scared because I don't want anyone else to realise just how amazing you are. I don't want to lose you, because it'd be forever, and this is our final year here and I'd never see you again. And- and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else when I love you and nothing can change that. Not you, not graduation, not Finley,"
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luck-and-larceny · 1 month
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griffincastle · 5 months
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A gift for @averagespawn
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quirky-vg · 7 months
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From: Keeper
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dieselpvnk · 2 months
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pretty much a shared idea with @sleepinginmute something something tainted character titles are just slugcat names. I also thought of their mechanics while drawing, so:
The Curdled: starts the cycle with lower stats, similar to Monk's, maybe even a bit less, but overtime as the cycle comes to an end stats raise + physically changes to resemble Eve's Whore of Babylon state, can also be triggered by surviving a lizard/other predator bite. The baby vulture isn't good at combat per se, but acts as a good distraction, also can fetch things that are out of reach. I imagine her campaign can have puzzles centered around that mechanic.
The Benighted: no I'm not giving him flight, too boring and straightforward. I do, however, think he's gonna have greater speed and mobility, not quite as fast Rivulet, but damn good at jumping. Spits blood as distraction/to ward off predators, can maul. But also frail, having a greater chance to die to various obstacles, such explosions that would normally leave a slugcat merely stunned.
The Harlot: slugpup army. They fight, they fetch things, can revive them like that one mod. Also can't see on her own. Vision directly tied to slugpups. So you know, the more the better, but also that means a LOT of food.
The Miser: main gimmick is trading with the scavangers, who have a lot more to offer than in the base game. Can store a lot of pearls and they spawn more often, but also the relationship with the scavangers constantly deteriorates over time, encouraging interacting with them and giving them stuff more often. The whole camapaign is filled with scavangers and tolls.
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akiraidraws · 7 months
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Ink Demonth Day 24: Keep
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subspaceemo · 1 year
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I go out on a first date with my ass plugged. We meet at a bar and I'm immediately glad I did. I am so desperate for them the moment I see them. We sit together in a booth and I press my thigh against theirs as we talk, looking at their hands and their mouth. They wrap an arm around me and I slide closer, "kiss me?" I ask and they do, squeezing my thigh and making me moan into their mouth. "good boy, you're so easy," they laugh. I look at them under heavy lids, "just easy for you." They palm the front of my jeans and watch me arch into their touch, "how easy? Can I take you home now?" they rub my cock through my packer, making me so hard and wet I'm dizzy, "maybe I don't even need to take you home, maybe I can have you in the bathroom or in the alleyway, hm?" I nod my head frantically as they look around and then slide their hand into my boxers, "fuckin hell, boy, I kissed you once!" they exclaim as they brush my hard cock with their fingers. I whimper, embarrassed to be discovered to be so desperate but the way they're touching me makes that feeling distant, "I don't think you could wait until I get you home, could you?" I pant and shake my head, "I need you now." They smile, and guide me out of the booth, hand still rubbing my cock as they steer me into the bathroom. "take them off" they kiss me hard and my hands tremble with excitement as I unfasten my jeans and let them fall to the floor. They push my boxers down to join them and step between my bound ankles, backing me over to the sink and helping me up. They coo when they see the plug, "oh that's cute, such an eager boy, aren't you?" they tug on it, working it in and out of my hole while I whine. They pull a condom from their pocket and give it to me to unwrap while they make my body shake and take their cock out. I groan at the sight, it's so perfect, I leak everywhere. I roll the condom on and line them up with my sloppy cunt, "oh do you want to be double stuffed?" they smile, sinking into my wet hole easily, I groan and grind against them, "God, you're such a slut for me, aren't you?" they grunt as they fuck me. I nod and whine and cross my ankles behind their back, drawing them deeper. I have to grip the sink they're pounding me so hard, slick wet impact echoing off the tiles, "so fucking easy." They mumble, bending forward to kiss me and I take their tongue in my mouth, cumming suddenly, clenching and moaning my way through. "holy shit you feel so good," they grind out as they chase their own orgasm, spurting into the condom a few seconds later. I whimper, "please fuck my ass when we get home." They laugh and rub my cock, "you're a keeper."
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