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#this took so long
plumadot · 12 days
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a paladin and a sorcerer :]
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instantnoodlee · 1 month
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dazai drawing dazai drawing
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ink-the-artist · 1 year
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THE WIZARD CLOAK COAT IS FINALLY FINISHED!!!!
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magnumopos · 3 months
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obamerzslop · 5 months
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Polymer clay Kinger and Caine! They’re so cute :]
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myrathefarmer · 11 months
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⚓️👑🪸King of the Drowned🪸👑⚓️
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nosnexus · 5 months
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Archmage Lazuli Rocks and some futures
Huevember day 17
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cndarts · 1 year
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family <3
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lunerabo · 6 months
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Ask: Thinking about grabbing the back of geto's hair and face fucking him with a strap he's such a pretty boy and imo prefers being treated with more rough and degratory words but the aftercare he receives HAS to be the most loving heart-wrenching shit
quiet
cw: dom!AFAB!Reader, sub!Suguru, mean Reader, cockdrunk Suguru, fauxjob, rough face fucking, degradation, hair pulling, dacryphilia, praise, aftercare
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You aren’t sure what it is that does it for him. It brings you no pleasure, nor him, yet it’s something he insists on whenever you have the opportunity for it. He’s filthy about it, slobbering and slurping and moaning around something you aren’t sure he still knows is fake. There’s a dazed look to him, one that pairs almost too well with the tongue that hangs from his open jaw every time he releases it to breathe, before going right back in and shoving it down his throat once again. He gags, you almost don’t even notice it for how well he maintains his enthusiasm.
You watch on in perverted fascination, gaze involuntarily fixed on his furrowed brow, his blush, his tears—and you’re overcome with the desire to force him to take even more. He could take it. And he would be eager about it, too, if his display of hunger for cock is anything to go by.
You buck—ripping from him a surprised gagging sound—a loud groan following closely behind, one that makes you quiver.
“You like this?”
He never quite takes his mouth away, only pulling away just enough to breathe comfortably through his nose, to form a single, breathy response:
“Mhm! M-mhm!”
You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him back and forth on the fake cock jutting out from your pelvis. Eager and trembling hands find your thighs, square fingertips digging into the supple flesh for some semblance of support.
He cranes his neck and the strap bends, tugging at his top lip as he slides backward and gives you those eyes, those eyes that make you wish the cock were real so you could feel him convulse around its length and fuck your seed down his throat.
It’s so damn filthy, and so so embarrassing for a man like him to be put in a position like this, but that’s precisely what he gets out of it. It’s a different kind of high he chases, one that makes him feel like something to be used and discarded, made to do these things purely for the viewing pleasure of the one above him. A performer, putting on a private show for someone he favors.
“Mm, don’t you want my tongue on you for real?” He purrs, sliding large and firm hands over your thighs.
“Quiet,” you snarl, “it’s terribly poor manners to talk with your mouth full.”
And he goes so willingly, so easily pushed, despite how you pick up the pace and fuck into his mouth with a force that’s sure to leave him with unable to speak for a good long while. He sobs around it unable to resist taking hold of his cock and pumping furiously, hoping you’ll understand. You’re not that cruel, right?
But you inch your foot forward and press your toes down on his wrist, pinning it to the floor, bringing his whole body down a little ways. You’re not that cruel, right? Right?
“Greedy little thing. You better watch that hand, pretty one. Do your job, and keep taking it.”
He’s at a different angle now, looking upward, as you hunch over and fuck his throat.
Ah, that may have been a bit much, you think, as he taps your thigh firmly. But he doesn’t withdraw, instead encouraging you to keep at your previous pace, without skipping a beat. You appreciate the gesture, but you do worry that he may be overdoing it. You release his wrist from under your foot, nudging it between his legs as if to give him the okay to touch himself. He’s grateful, moaning loudly with his mouth full, squeezing his weeping tip.
He cums fast, nearly inhaling his own drool as he hiccups and slides off of your cock, thick and heavy strings of saliva slipping down his chin. He whines, hand covered in cum, trembling and dumb.
“Hey, you okay? Do you need a minute?” You ask, and his lack of response has you a little concerned. “Can I go grab a washcloth or do you need me here for a bit?”
“Go- yeah, go ahead.”
You rush, all hastened breaths and drumming fingers as the water heats. Hands steady again the closer you get to him, dabbing away at outstretched hands and quivering thighs.
“I think you might’ve forced yourself a little,” you comment, thumbs swiping away the spit on his chin and jaw. You punctuate the statement with a kiss on his forehead. He settles quickly, standing without you asking him to. A hand raises to gesture to his neck for all of a half second, and you’re already leading him to the kitchen, filling the kettle and choosing some leaves.
“You really don’t need to,” he tells you, only as loudly as his voice will now allow, and you hush him.
“It’s a good thing I want to, then. Take it, it’ll help your throat. As will the honey, so don’t complain about it being sweet.” Belatedly, you seize the opportunity. “… Honey.”
His eyes narrow as he processes, an amused frown pulling his lips taut.
“That was terrible.”
“I know. But you’re smiling aren’t you?”
“I’m smiling because we’re standing nude in a kitchen, making tea, and you crack a joke about honey.”
The absurdity does make you grin, you suppose. He’s not the only one turning a little pink now, and you can’t seem to stop yourself taking his hand in yours. His affection is returned easily and unrestrained, bringing you in and backing you into the edge of the counter to kiss you like there’s nothing else that might ever occupy his mind.
It’s a pleasant silence, one that slips into the small room and between you and warms the both of you despite frigid countertops and arctic air conditioning.
The kettle begins to whistle.
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charmilyharmily · 4 months
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Tonight, we proudly present the first performance of our newest performer!
Pomni, in Attack of the Killer Klown!
Woof, this took forever but I’m so glad how it turned out.
I like to imagine that most performances have their own poster to accompany them after, or at least everyone’s first. So of course, why not capture the hell that is Pomni’s first. Bloody Kaufmo and all. :3
Sorry Pompom, but the audience demands a show.
Oh yeah, I think you’d like this @hootbon, ENJOY!
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cielsiesta · 17 days
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needed to take a little stab at princess kenny myself…
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miniculecrossing · 5 days
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Tabby’s new crib!☎️
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gatorgrumbles · 25 days
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Just more of bugs. I always love drawing him.
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Remember, it is only a game.
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pen-and-page · 1 year
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In a land of myth and a time of magic…✨
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baskeigh-ball · 1 year
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Page 4/4
FIRST | PREVIOUS
they have escaped successfully, but what will happen next with this new information? (BONUS)
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