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#ive been posting a lot lately
stil-lindigo · 3 months
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reverb in an empty hall.
prints (all proceeds go towards aid for Gaza)
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fungerisms · 10 months
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O'saa doodle page cuz ive been playing as him and having him on my party a lot and hes just the coolest
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taxinealkaloids · 5 months
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behold hitherto unposted htn doodles! harrow+her terrible mentor, harrow+her terrible roommate
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isjasz · 11 months
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The sand may brush off (Do memories last forever?)
Happy DL anniversary i am NOT LATE LETSGO
Dtiys from @pikorulli on twt!! (from like sept 2022 LOL)
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revasserium · 2 months
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A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D
also I love your writing SOO much <3
prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed
49. stolen kisses
zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it
summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given
a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc
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one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.
“Good dinner?” he asks.
“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.
“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”
Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.
“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”
His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.
“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”
And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.
He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.
two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.
You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.
But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.
“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.
“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.
A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -
“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”
Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.
“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”
You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.
“So… I'm a report now, am I?”
But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.
“No.”
You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.
“We’re nowhere near finished.”
A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.
“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.
Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.
Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.
“Only in front of you.”
He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.
"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.
"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.
"And… see you at home.”
You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.
three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.
“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.
Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.
“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —
“Do you know what I received the award for?”
You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.
“N-no — I haven’t —“
“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”
The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.
That ice can also burn.
You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.
“Zayne —“
“I start work at a clinic next week.”
A frown creases at your temple.
“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”
Your frown deepens.
“What do you —“
“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”
At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.
“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.
Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”
“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.
“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”
The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.
“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.
“Hey, look at me.”
You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.
He looks back up with a knowing smile.
“Shall we get something to eat?”
You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”
Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”
“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”
Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.
“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”
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ba1laur · 1 month
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big sister
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fleshwizard · 5 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎
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cryptile · 4 months
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It's hard to stay mad at octokittens and their constant chaos when they're just so adorable
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shyybanshee · 8 months
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what if... hear me out... racer au feat. mechanic andrew...
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5t4r5and5uch01 · 5 months
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What i did for that one trend on twt. My fave Blue sillies. 💙💙💙
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i-am-dulaman · 2 years
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Okay I'm riled up about this rn so time for a history of economics lesson (rant) from me, a stranger on the internet
I'm a communist, I hate capitlism, so lemme just put that out there. But capitlism had its moments. Even marx had some praise for parts of capitlism.
And by far the most successful form of capitlism was Keynesian economics, as evident by the enormous increase in living standards in those countries which adopted it between the 1930s and 1970s.
What's Keynesian economics? The idea that capitlism can't survive on its own, and must be supported by government spending at the poorest ends of society and taxes at the richest ends of society (essentially the opposite of trickle down economics) as well as strong regulations on certain industries like banking.
It basically started in 1936 with President Roosevelt who was a personal friend of John Keynes (who the theory is named after).
Roosevelt implemented Keynesian economics to great effect; he raised the top tax rate to 94% (he actually wanted a 100% tax rate on the highest incomes, essentially creating a maximum wage, but the senate negotiated down to 94%) and similarly high corporate tax rates, he created the first ever minimum wage, created the first ever unemployment benefit, created social security in America, pension funds, and increased public spending on things like public utilities and infrastructure, national parks, etc. Which created about 15 million public sector jobs.
This ended the great depression and eventually lead to America winning world War 2, after which many countries followed suit in implementing similar policies, including UK, Australia, and NZ (apologies for the anglosphere-centric list here but they're the countries I'm personally most familiar with so bare with me)
Over the next 40 years these countries had unprecedented growth in living standards and incomes, and either decreasing or stable wealth inequality, and housing prices increasing in line with inflation. Virtually every household bought a car and a TV, rates of higher education increased dramatically, america put a man on the moon, and so on.
Then it all abruptly ended in the 80s and the answer is plain and obvious. 1979 thatcher became UK prime minister. 1981 reagan became US president. 1983 the wage accords were signed in aus. 1984 was the start of rogernomics in NZ (Someone link that Twitter thread of the guy who posts graphs of economic trends and points out where reagan became president)
(Also worth noting those last two in NZ and Aus were both implemented by 'left' leaning governments, but they are both heavily associated with right wing policies.)
This marked the beginning of trickle down economics: tax cuts, privatization of publicly owned assets, reduction in public spending, and deregulation of the finance sector. The top tax rates are down to the low 30s in most of these countries, down from the 80s/90s it was prior. Now THATS a tax cut.
And what happened next?
Wages stagnated. Housing prices skyrocketed. Bankers got away with gambling on the economy. Public infrastruce and utilies degraded. And wealth inequality now exceeds France in 1791.
I don't know how anyone can deny the evidence if they see it, but there's so much propaganda and false information that a lot of people just don't see the evidence.
Literally all the evidence supports going back to Keynesian economics but now that the rich have accumulated so much wealth it's virtually impossible to democratically dethrone them when they have most of the politicians on both the right and the left in their pocket.
Unfortunately it was the great depression and ww2 that gave politicians the political power to implement these policies the first time around. Some thought the 2008 crash would spur movement back towards Keynesianism (which it actually did in Iceland, congrats to them), I hoped covid would force governments to now, but nope.
All these recent crises' seem to have just pushed politics further and further right, with more austerity and tax cuts.
I don't really have a message or statement to end on other than shits fucked yo.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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:-P
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jellysmudge · 3 months
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Testing gouache with everyone’s fav character 💕💕💕
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strangecowplant · 9 days
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🖤
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katabay · 6 months
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L'APPEL DU VIDE
okay so. jack! jack. what a collection of guys. the overlap between jack and the beanstalk and jack the giant killer, though. that sure is something! sometimes king arthur is there, which always takes me by surprise.
this. specifically. is an idea I've been kicking around. jack and the beanstalk is not a story I've ever enjoyed, as a kid it was probably my least favorite to read. as an adult, I was INTENSELY fascinated by reading j.g. ballard's the drowned giant. I think about it frequently, and somewhere during a re read of it, I ended up revisiting jack.
combining different versions of jack into one character is not a new concept, but it IS a fun one! the version I've been assembling together plays less with the fun elements of a jack story (and adjacent folklore stories), and focuses more on the potential for tragic elements with the addition of the usual grim and jagged narrative edges that I personally enjoy.
jack with the backstory of the devil and the three golden hairs, only jack doesn't find love, he's TIRED, all he wants to do is go home, but there isn't a home to go back to. what is the point of being born lucky if this is what it gets you? jack the giant killer, only he doesn't want to kill giants, jack who saw a body of a giant when he was a small child and cannot bring himself to do as a king commands. jack, who climbs up the beanstalk and stops halfway to look down. etc.
to go back to the drowned giant real quick, both to set the tone about jack seeing the body of a giant as a youth, and also because I've been haunted and obsessed with this excerpt of it ever since I read it:
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J. G. Ballard, The Drowned Giant
anyway! this was originally like, a two illustration concept to get out of my system. however. I'm halfway through outlining a narrative. so. maybe it will also be several illustrations and also comic.
bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost
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spamsandsuch · 8 months
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autism
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