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pumpkinheadath.bsky.social
oj 🍊🖋️
@pumpkinheadath.bsky.social
210 followers 310 following 1.3K posts
also known as nkukubean & joby 💕
💀 she/they (any), 23 & 🏳️‍⚧️
🖤 BFA, character & comic artist
🤍 #BG3, #Pokémon, #VintageStory & OCs (mostly)
✨ icon by @/0hmo

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✍️ https://linktr.ee/nkukubean
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Reposted by oj 🍊🖋️
mistercrowbar.art
Scritches (2-3/9)

Or read on the site: bg3.mrcrowb.art/comic/2061

Of course it has to be about Gale, but hold on... #art
"Sussun!" Aldiirn curses under his breath, having fallen up the top step to the dilapidated cabin. "Well hello~," Astarion hastily hides his spite, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence dropping in?" "Astarion!" Aldiirn jolts up, sending his little crucible rolling. "Didn't know you were out here! I was just looking for a place to say my prayers, not to close to camp, not so dark the shamblers will get me, you know," he rambles a little too quickly, eyes just a little too wide, and a delightful flush across his cheeks. Astarion stops the crucible with his foot and gives it a good tap with his last remaining dagger. "You seem to be without any offerings," he says, surmising that Aldiirn must have had one too many drinks back at camp. Aldiirn shrugs, "oops." Then he puts on that cute little smile with the big eyes that he does when he wants something. "That dagger's from one of the zombies we did in, yeah?" "Yes, and don't think of asking to melt it to slag. I'm using it." Astarion safely stows the dagger in his back pocket. Aldiirn toddles over to the closest seating, a wooden table that had seen better days, like everything else in the shadow-cursed lands. Even sitting, he sways and leans. Astarion joins him on the old table. Maybe this could be something to his favour. "It's so very unlike you to be unprepared. What happened to put you in such a tizzy?" Aldiirn opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, evidently worrying about who might overhear as he leans around the corner to peer back at the cabin's door. He leans back in, close to Astarion. "Did you know Gale is really horny?" He finally says in a shaky whisper. "Is he?" Astarion feels what little life he had left in him slip away. It had to come back to Gale! "He likes my musk," Aldiirn rambles again, gesticulating animatedly, "considers the sight of me covered in blight guts irresistible, and no matter how many times I tried to steer the conversation away from Art of the Night he kept bringing up more uses for Mage Hand." "There was an overcommon word I don't want to know the meaning of," Aldiirn ends like he escaped from the clutches of an incomprehensible aberration.
November 3, 2025 at 5:13 PM
Reposted by oj 🍊🖋️
mistercrowbar.art
Scritches (6-7/9)

Now we're getting silly #art
Aldiirn perks up. "Cally says every critter that has ears loves a scritch behind them, people included. It'll have you purring, nothing sexual about it." "Ears, really?" There it is. "Are your baby points so jealous you can't get enough?" Astarion asks, gesturing to his long pointy ears. Aldiirn leans in, making that adorable wants-something smile again. "Behind the ears," emphasis on behind, "Let me show you!" Aldiirn outstretches his hands, ready to cup either side of Astarion's head. Astarion chews over the decision. Earplay seemed to be as adventurous as Aldiirn got whenever they snuck away for a bit of whatever-counts-as-fun. He would be gentle, delicate, more preoccupied with the curls of his hair sometimes. Astarion has nothing to lose and a few points to gain here, yet... "No." Astarion gives his answer. "No," Aldiirn repeats blankly, deflating. "I want to try on you first." "Oh, it doesn't work on me," Aldiirn is suddenly coy, parting his thick hair to show the venom scar warping the side of his face down his neck. "Scar tissue." Astarion is undeterred. "I seem to recall the side I bite each night is free of scarring." He leans in and reaches with a hand. Aldiirn leans away with a little hesitant keening sound. "You need both sides scritched for the full effect..." "You must still feel something," Astarion says while grazing Aldiirn's neck and eliciting a choked chuckle. Astarion's eyes gleam like a cat about to pounce a mouse. "Oho, what do we have here?" Letting his fingers dance down Aldiirn's soft, squirming sides, Astarion purrs, "You've been caught in a trap of your own making, or perhaps, a lie--"
November 3, 2025 at 5:13 PM
pumpkinheadath.bsky.social
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November 9, 2025 at 8:21 PM