#ty!!!
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tartosa mornings, broken sinks, angry latinos ☕
#simblr#ts4 gameplay#g:archive#oc:marco#i need to do so much world building#before this world is useful#but i'm also lazy#so like... does anyone know any good tartosa lots?#especially commercial ones#ty!!!
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I love when you draw the bois so smuushed like cowboy ingo in front of the campfire 😭 v cute, much squish
he is peak form this way
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Phil has a little mane! A lil neck ruff!
as @itsybitsydragon said today: the neck and head of a longhaired cat and the body of a shorthaired cat
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you know what, here's some tumblr tips from a veteran :)
if you use desktop, you can customize your theme as much as you want! this isn't as hard as it sounds, due to the fact that NUMEROUS people make themes for free use. theme-hunter is a good starting point, if you wanna do that
blocking and filtering is a god sent. you can filter tags under settings, specifically filtered tags, or filtered post content. the first filters by tag only, the second by post content (so if someone doesn't tag a certain word, that'll catch it)
there's honestly not really any rules to tumblr? if you wanna reblog a bunch, go for it! if you wanna keep that to a sideblog, and only post art here, go ahead! your blog is pretty much for you. so post whatever you want!
blocking people. good
there's no real follow back thing, which i know was huuuuge on twitter. so if someone starts posting stuff you don't want to see, you can just unfollow them! people do not care
if you want to follow more people, i highly recommend doing some tag scrolling! just search for something you're into (a fandom, art, cooking, etc etc) and check out a bunch of blogs! personally, i love scrolling the tags, though i can be a real hazard- but! that's where tag filtering comes in too
you can turn off anon, or just asks in general, as you want. you can also turn them back on! basically, if people starts being dicks, you can just remove their ability to do so at you entirely
don't censor words! this is both because that makes it harder for people to filter them, and also because a lot of us finds it super silly
however!! tumblr's search function is. pretty broken, so if you complain about a ship, or groups of people, it's probably a good idea to censor it in some form. especially with ships, because the post will then show up in the ship's tag, which. not what anyone wants!
the original poster of a post can see anything you add to their post. this includes tags. so while it's generally a good idea not to be a jerk in the tags, they are also for your benefit, and is generally used as a mix of comment section and organization tool. though even that is up to the individual
honestly, tumblr is super laid back and really customizable. you aren't forced to see anything you don't want, and you're entirely in control of your experience here! the best way to keep in touch with the 'community' as a whole is what's on trending, but even that is easy to avoid, if that's what you want
basically, just post what you want, tag it if you want people to see, and vibe! unlike twitter, this is more of a fan space, so while there's no real way to like, make business connections, it's a lot more chill
hope you enjoy your stay, and that at least one of these tips will be helpful! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
Sharing this coz I find it really useful, thank you so much anon!
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Thoughts on Sephiroth starting to trauma-dump when he arrived to Nibelheim (Mother died, no hometown), then just laughing at himself? He knew he was breaking, but Zack was 19 and others even younger, so he let the kids run around, visit their families. He wouldn't dare to bother them with his medical health emergencies
The LAUGH he gives after Zack asks him abt his family……… It shreds me up every time man ;-;
I think, personally, at this point in time, standing before the gates of Nibelheim, Sephiroth wasn’t broken yet. He was getting there, no doubt about it, becoming more and more precarious by the day. But he was still whole then. He was still the camel’s strong back, still carrying a million pounds on his shoulders minus that final straw.
So when Zack asked him that question, he had just enough strength to pull himself together. He did it in a very unnerving and self-deprecating way—yes—but he was ultimately able to shake off the prick that the topic of family had caused. And then he pushed on as he always did, carried on with their mission. I think you’re absolutely right in that he didn’t want to reveal any sign of his poor mental health—something that’s very crucial to his character/resilience as a whole—and probably even regretted saying as much as he said at the gates. Though I do think Sephiroth was simply being kind in letting Cloud visit his home and friends and family. Extremely kind, actually. He could’ve easily let bitterness/envy take over and prohibit Cloud from seeing his family. Do the things he couldn’t. But he let him go, and didn’t think twice about doing it, still knowing the importance of family and how important it was for his cadet to cherish it.
Y’know. Until he takes it away from him ofc.
#sephiroth#ffvii#zack fair#cloud strife#nibelheim#ff7#crisis core#asks#ty!!!#speculation glasses#like I want to spin these into Nibelheim doesn’t happen-isms but it’s hard with asks like these 😂#which is absolutely no problem at all! happy to dip into angst sometimes sjdjdjd#awesome interpretation!
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Constantly impressed by the characterization of all the characters you write. I really feel like you *get* Cass, you bring in Wally's fears w/ Barry, how the titans tend to do things. When I see a new character introduced I get super excited!
Any other cameos to look forward to?
ahh ty! it's really nice to hear that even through dickie's unreliable perspective the other characters are still recognisable hehehe
i guess the most obvious cameos for part three are the baby brother bat brigade, ft. two guys who are notoriously well-spoken, and maybe another batgirl or two + bruce, ofc
some of my personal motivation for writing persephone in the first place is that a lot of (deaging/time travel) fic tends to stay in the batcave and only features members of the batfamily. i think that’s kind of a waste of the trope! which is why there’s so much emphasis on the titans and other characters. it’s been great to hear that people like that part of the story!
#ty!!!#dick grayson#batfam#dc comics#the ask and the answer#persephone tag#also im a roy fan so……. he’s always gonna be a part of it
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Good News! I am absolutely IN LOVE with this version of William (he's just so pathetic :D)
Bad News. I have the urge to be extremely violent toward anything I find adorable for some reason.
That being said...I'm gonna hit William with a chair. :)
(✨️✨️✨️✨️I ALSO LOVE YOUR ART!!!!!✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️)
hes starting to catch on
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Ur Zane makes me happy. Kneading him like dough rn. Oh shit I’m rolling him out… 😰😰 throwing him in the oven now
sniff sniff
does anyone else smell burning oil
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never thought interactive fiction had coding involved in it too. my respect for you just went up by 200% because writing is already hard enough
need this reassurance because i tried fixing one bit of my coding yesterday and could not figure it out for the life of me <3
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9. "I am yours to do as you please." + Lewis 🔥
It's after a race, in his motorhome that you finally get him alone.
Nomex soaked in champagne and that damn smile a permanent fixture on his face since he crossed the finish line ahead of everyone else -- just like he's used to. And when your eyes met, him on top of the podium, the world really, his world and you amidst an admiring crowd you knew it would end up like this. With your skirt hiked up by your thighs and his body between your legs. Away from prying eyes. He never liked sharing anyway.
His muscles are straining against the nomex when your hands slip beneath the protective layer but it's a feeling you're used to. Something you can even imagine now. The easy way strong muscle rolls beneath smooth skin as he tries to press closer and closer still. Never close enough.
His hands are steady as they slide up the insides of your thighs and then his strong, sure fingers find the apex between them and you arch against him. Back a neat bow he loves to admire.
"Gorgeous," he whispers against the side of your face, lips brushing the apple of your cheek. Your jaw. There's a retort at the tip of your tongue, something quick to snap at him when his hands slow down between your legs, but then he finally, finally pushes your underwear to the side and touches you where you need him most. Want him most. Always.
"Yes!" you say, voice breathless. His fingers feel heavenly as he circles your cunt and then he's already slipping two of his fingers in. Slow and steady. Just slow enough to allow you to adjust. He's big and you both know it. Prep is just as important as making you cum over and over. To him at least.
"Open your eyes," he says, orders. Voice stern. It rarely is, but once you're beneath his hands it's like he can't help it. Can't help demanding more. Always more. You do as he asks, weak to his demands and then try not to fall apart beneath the intensity in his eyes. The way he's drinking you in. Fuck, even like this, soaked in champagne and sweat and with his cheeks a little darker than they usually are he's stunning. Otherworldly.
"I'm yours," you find yourself saying. Meaning it as well. You're his and he's yours. Usually. When he feels like it. When he feels like taking you back to his motorhome to take apart and not someone else looking at him with awe and love and admiration so deep it's unbelievable sometimes. It's unbelievable what he makes others feel. How good he makes you feel.
"C'mon, Lewis," you continue, legs widening a little to allow him closer. They wrap around his waist, still clothed all the way up to his neck and you feel a little dirty. A little cheap with the way you're spreading your legs, skirt up high and soft skin spilling over the top of your rumpled top. He made a mess of you. "Do with me what you want."
It's all he needs to hear to draw you into a kiss tasting of champagne.
#f1 smut#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smut#**prompts#ty!!!#**mine#changed it a lil to make it sound smoother
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First sentence!
It was a cold morning when they set out, the drizzle just this side of snow, and the chill seeped through every layer of cloth.
It was a cold morning when they set out, the drizzle just this side of snow, and the chill seeped through every layer of cloth.
Findaráto scrunched his nose and gripped his father's hand, clumsy in his thick mittens. Tirion, bright and laughing just a few days ago, now felt gray and saddenned, and the boy did not like the change much; he thought back longingly to their warm home where Amil stayed with little Artaresto, and to knitted blankets in his room, and to sweet berry tea that father would make him before sleep.
"Come, Findaráto," his father said, kneeling to fix his scarf. "Were you not excited to see Turukàno again?"
"Not when it's so cold," Findaráto mumbled, thinking about a walk awaiting them—but his father smiled, and tugged Findaráto's hat over his eyes before pressing a kiss to his head, and Findaráto couldn't help but laugh himself.
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something about this media angle...
NICK SUZUKI post-game from BOS@MTL & JOHNATHAN KOVACEVIC before VAN@MTL
#i am staring at BOTH of their beauty marks on their cheek yes#nick suzuki#johnathan kovacevic#montreal canadiens#nicks eyes are truly sparkling w that light too#ty!!!#had such a hard time getting the video of kovy's press rip the quality :(#*by me#*gifs
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Please give both mackie and phil a smooch on their little heads from me as well
angy bc im not observing her bedtime/luxurious
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Ahh, I don't think I've ever prompted you for anything, which is a crime!! A long long time ago you wrote punnihawk, and idk if it's still your bag, so if it's not or if you're not taking prompts anymore, feel free to ignore this :) But if it is and you are, I'd love to see 'cuddles to trap the other' with them.
HELLO! yes! feels like a million years ago, my first mash fic :')
19. cuddles to trap the other
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sensational dancer?” Hawkeye said.
Peg was leaning on him a little, the side of her face pressed just below the collar of his crew neck. She was already dressed for going out, apart from her feet, which were without their customary heels. He’d adjusted his posture to account for the height disparity: shoulders hunched, knees slightly bent, palms at her shoulder and waist.
Dancing with Beej required different adjustments. Hawk had to be more cautious with his feet. BJ was prone to getting distracted and treading on them. It was easier to maintain eye contact, though, since they were nearly the same height. And when Beej was feeling confident, sometimes he led.
“I think you told me, the other day. Though maybe you said terrific, not sensational,” Peg said.
He’d begged her for a dance. Peg and Beej were going to one of the hospital’s frequent fundraising galas. It was an excuse to dress up, get a little tipsy, and talk to people—all things Hawkeye enjoyed, when he was in the right mood.
Unfortunately he’d just gotten off a double shift, after an extraordinarily hectic week, and was more or less dead on his feet. He was exhausted in that slap happy, clingy, sore to be missing out way. Peg took pity on him.
Hawkeye could smell her perfume: light, floral, her special occasion scent, in the little blue bottle on her dresser. He and Beej had picked it out together.
Visits to the perfume counter always gave Beej headaches. He’d persevere—eyes closed, bridge of his nose pinched, hint of a smile on his lips—while Hawk held up testers.
“You know, we’re all going to smell like this,” Hawkeye had said, fingers grazing the inside of BJ’s wrist.
Their shoulders brushed. It was raining outside. Inside, it smelled like damp hair, like Peg’s lavender shampoo, in the big bottle, to share.
BJ opened his eyes. “Then we ought to pick something that complements your aftershave,” he said.
“You move like a dream,” Hawkeye said, shifting his weight, leaning into her as much as she was leaning into him.
Peg was stronger than she looked. She’d held him upright a time or two.
She laughed. Hawkeye loved her laugh. When she really got going, she got the hiccups. The first time it had happened, Hawk had been bowled over with affection. They’d been out, all three of them, finishing their drinks outside a café. He and Beej had a spectacular comedy routine going. He couldn’t remember the jokes now. He’d been a little drunk, maybe, and in good company, which made everything funny.
When she laughed, some of her white wine came out her nose. Hawk passed her his handkerchief. Beej rubbed her back, at the space between her shoulder blades. He met Hawkeye’s eyes, across the cluttered table. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his long legs.
“Don’t get big heads,” Peg said, after drinking deeply from her water glass, and then Hawk’s (leaving lipstick on the rim).
The record they had on lapsed into staticky silence and Peg drew back.
“A good dream, I hope,” she said, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress.
BJ came into the room, holding up two ties. “I can’t decide,” he said. He frowned at Hawk. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“The purple one,” Hawkeye said, as Peg ushered him toward the mattress.
“Erin’s sleeping over at Angie’s. I gave her the number at the club just in case, so no need to listen for the phone. Just get some sleep,” Peg said.
She pulled back the covers and kissed his forehead.
“Don’t step on her feet, Beej,” Hawkeye said.
BJ was flipping up his collar and tying his purple tie. He looked nice in his well tailored suit, with the cufflinks Hawk had bought him for his birthday.
He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll try my absolute hardest,” he said.
Peg brushed some lint off his lapel.
“I know you will. We should call the cab. I hate showing up late to these things,” she said.
Hawkeye watched the two of them, lingering by the door. They’d wanted to skip the gala and stay in, with him, but he’d talked them into going. It seemed an awful shame to keep the Hunnicutts from a party.
“We’ll duck out early, Hawk,” BJ said.
Hawkeye opened his arms wide.
“Kiss me goodbye, at least,” he said.
They didn’t need to be asked twice. They lay down on either side of him and Hawk was briefly distracted by the mingling of their warmth and scents and limbs. BJ kissed him and then Peg kissed him (gentler, to avoid smudging her lipstick).
“On second thought, I can get dressed and come with you,” Hawkeye said, eyes half-lidded. “I’m not as tired as I seem. I promise.”
BJ pressed a kiss to his hair. “Nice try,” he said.
Hawkeye rolled onto his side and tucked his face to Beej’s chest, breathing deeply. He was right. Beej smelled like Peg’s perfume.
Her hands were at Hawk’s waist. She tucked her chin over his shoulder.
“Well, I’ve trapped you here now,” Hawkeye said.
“Or we’ve trapped you, darling,” Peg said, in that dreamy, soothing tone she used when she read Erin bedtime stories.
“We’ll be home before you know it,” BJ said.
#ty!!!#i feel like i always stray a little from the prompt lmao 😭#but i like this it was fun!#punnihawk#mash#awi’s fic#ask awi
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Cloud tells his mom about Sephiroth locking himself in the basement and he hasn't eaten in days. She figures that is just NOT GOOD and makes him a home cooked meal and a jug of lemonade and determinedly goes to the mansion to deliver it...
Heck yeah! Them maternal instincts kicking IN! ❤️
Claudia is not at all unnerved by the ambience of the manor. Not in the slightest. She has the rawest of Nibelheim hearts, desensitized to anything and everything the town has to throw at her. Cobwebs? Nah. Creaky stairs? Please! She’s wrapped her delivery in layers upon layers of tinfoil so a speck of dust can’t so much as LOOK in the direction of her food. It was for the sad, confused military man!
Sephiroth is as oblivious as ever as she reaches the room, his nose buried in a book and about half of the library’s arsenal scattered around him.
“Excuse me… Sir?”
Sephiroth stiffens, and his world blips. It isn’t that fuzzy shape’s voice that he heard just then, pleading for him to come back, pleading for the 100th time. It’s… different. Completely different. Satiny, almost. Velvety.
Loving,
Is this—
Sephiroth’s voice leaves him in a crack. “…Mother?”
Claudia, standing by the door, is very confused. But it’s an amused confusion that flashes across her face.
“You can say that, dear. I’m Cloud’s mother. He came here with you on the mission.” She smiles. “He’s told me a lot about you.”
Sephiroth turns around then. The names don’t click in his mind, almost ricocheting. The only thing that truly sticks—that matters—is the fact that she is NOT his mother. She is no one then. Irrelevant.
“Get out,” Sephiroth snarls, that previous awe draining from his eyes. “Now.”
Claudia, though, is not deterred. Not in the slightest. She sees his eyes, and sees the ink splotched all around them. Clear as daylight, dark as bruises. Dark as the ones her poor Cloud used to come home with. These books—they are bullies. That’s what they are. They are hurting him. He needs to get out of here.
And by Gaia, he is so thin. So pale. He needs to eat!
Sephiroth takes a step back as Claudia steps forward, the unearthly shape of his eyes quivering. But them maternal instincts are already activated. She carefully unwraps the big, delicious grilled Chocobo and hands it out to him, her voice soft and gentle, channeling all the nights and tears and solaces ribboned between the very essence of her motherly soul.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Maybe it’s the way she said it. Maybe it was the way she looked while saying it. Maybe it was how good the Chocobo smelled in that dusty library. Something in Sephiroth splinters then—a toxic, steely fortress mortared with instinct and vulnerability cracking from her presence. And a fortress can’t stand with one crack; so it crumbles entirely.
They sit together on the floor, and Sephiroth tells her everything. He breaks into a sob, telling of his friends, how he can’t let go of their betrayal, how it still stings. He tells her of the revelations in the Reactor, of what flowed through his veins and the lies he was built around.
And Claudia listens. She listens, and she tells him that it’s okay. Over and over and over. That it’s not his fault. That nothing is. That he’s…
“Dear…” Claudia takes her plate back, only shiny white bones remaining. “You are not a monster.”
There’s something about the way she says it—the kindness in her voice, the tenderness in her eyes, the warmth of her aura… Sephiroth brushes his hair aside, sniveling.
He thinks he believes her.
They leave the manor that very night, Claudia’s love squeezing through his plated shoulder as they return to the surface of the town. Zack pulls Sephiroth into a hug and thanks Claudia profusely for bringing him back, and as Sephiroth hugs him back, as he starts to cry, Cloud watches the scene unfold with a whole spectrum damn full of questions. He goes to stand beside his mother.
“Wow, Ma. What did you do to get the general back?”
Claudia only smiles. “Just what every mother knows best.”
And all of a sudden there’s a giant silver-haired man guy thing towering over Cloud in the family photo. Yippie-do!
#ffvii#crisis core#sephiroth#claudia strife#I think that’s her name lol I actually didn’t check xD#asks#ty!!!#nibelheim#good vibes only!#weenie hut jrs#cloud strife#sephiroth and a healthy mother figure
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