#I really want some of its brushes

[doopn00p]

Daydreaming 💕

[katabay]

ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...

the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin

this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.

you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.

also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.

⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!

⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app

[momentomori24]

Surprisingly, hearing Vox and Val technically (I love how technically needed to be added) aren't dating didn't upset me as much as I thought it would. It did... for like a minute until I thought about how painfully much it fits them.

Val throws tantrums and is ready go out and kill people to let off steam, but decides to stay put in his room and sulk instead while he waits for his flat-faced prince to come and comfort him before he does anything drastic. He's killed and abused people for the slightest hint of non-compliance, which he sees as giving him an attitude or questioning his authority, but he doesn't so much as flinch when Vox raises his voice and starts shaking him in frustration more than once. He doesn't lash out or get angry when Vox tries to talk him out of marching towards the hotel, but instead listens to his points and takes his words to heart even when they weren't what he wanted to hear. He's not interested in Alastor, but is willing to sit through watching the extermination broadcast because Vox is a passionate football dad about his one-sided rival getting dunked on. He doesn't even act jealous towards Vox's obsession, just weirdly amused and supportive even tho he hates not being the center of attention any other times. And then there's Vox, who acts like he's annoyed to have to put up with Valentino but still does it anyway. He acts disinterested about Val's ranting over Angel until he hears that Angel might've quit because he's an jealous, insecure loser that wants that mf's attention to himself. He lights his cigarette and decides to call up their lowest earners for him to terrorize without being asked just to lighten his mood a little (unrelated but i feel for their employees). He keeps his eyes on him both in his room and when he's at the pub through the cameras he's got everywhere. He takes his hand like one would with a princess and smiles fondly at him before disappearing when noticing they're being watched. He's the only person that Val trusts enough to calm him down when his temper gets the better of him. And Val-- despite his volatile temper and obnoxious quirks-- is someone he respects and cares about, both as his business associate and romantic partner.

And they aren't dating. Val and Vox clearly have a connection and understanding and attraction yet are unable to confront those feelings in fear of being vulnerable. So they aren't dating. Val obsesses over Angel and Vox obsesses over Alastor to distract themselves of the other only to fall back into each other's arms at the end of the day. Even tho they aren't dating. They celebrate, dance, sing, support and shamelessly make out with each other. They're the only ones that would put up with each other's bullshit no matter what-- but for some reason, they're still not dating. They are two of the worst Overlords in Hell, capable of committing so many despicable acts and jumping to immoral tactics for their own gain without any regrets, but opening that door into genuine emotional vulnerability? Acknowledging their softness for each other? That's where they draw the line. They're clearly made for each other, but neither of them dare to step over that line to commit to something more.

Which means that we could get to actually see these changes take place. We could get to see more sides to these two we still haven't seen before. We could get to see them actually start dating and the complicated journey it took to get there. We could get to scream and kick and seeth as these two morons continue to dance around admitting their very much requited romantic feelings for every stupid reason under the sun episode after episode. We could get to see these two fix each other and make each other worse simultaneously. Mostly make each other worse. We could get to see them have a romantic duet. We could get to see them be happy together-- officially together-- while they make life worse for everyone around them.

All this mumbo-jumbo, sleep-deprived ranting will likely not happen, but the potential character growth, the dynamic development, the resolved romantic tension, the SONGS we could get??? I'm clinging onto this hope for dear life until it's ripped from my cold, dead hands.

[spiderziege]

falsie

[abirddogmoment]

sillies beget sillies enrichment idea #6

goal: be silly with your dog and create more moments of connection in your day

disclaimer: idk your dog so adjust or skip this game accordingly

activity: while you're brushing your teeth or putting on makeup, invite your dog into the bathroom and offer them things from your counter to sniff. show them your toothpaste tube, lotion bottles, hand soap, mascara tubes, etc. most dogs will try to take the first few items you offer, but gently remove it and show them something else. let them investigate each item as long as they want as long as they aren't putting it in their mouth.

tip: present each item as if it's something boring and don't jerk it away if they try to bite it. move slowly and calmly to encourage calm investigation. start with hard, relatively bite-proof items (anything metal, tube of mascara, hard bottle of lotion). don't show them anything inherently harmful or dangerous.

goal: your dog should be somewhat interested in what you're doing and showing them. your dog should stop trying to chomp at things and eventually start to investigate them more calmly.

[g00seg1raffe]

So there was a post a while back about Ben Solo always being told "don't do (x), that's how uncle luke lost his hand" when he was a kid - and I raise you: Elrond and Elros being told "don't do (x), that's how Maedhros lost his hand"??

Like, at Amon Ereb when the twins were newly acquired and refusing to eat their vegetables and Maglor is Mag-mothering them until Erestor, feral half-sane clinically depressed anarchist Avari hostage/patient/infiltrator and Certified Little Shit, hits em with:

"I would listen to the Lord Maglor, winyamor, he well knows the dangers that come to young elflings who don't eat enough vegetables - after all, that's how his brother lost his hand."

Elrond looks conflicted. Elros squints suspiciously. "Truly?"

Erestor, practically comatose since the massacre but ultimately saved from Fading by the biological compulsion to fuck with you, lays a hand over his heart. "I would never lie about such a thing! Just what do you take me for? This is a true tale and a grave warning - the Lord Maedhros' hand was tragically lost in the days of his youth, whilst he was still growing as you are. He refused to eat his vegetables and so, cruelly deprived of the strength it needed to grow strong, his body started to fall apart! First his fingers, then his thumb, and then his palm and wrist - all turned blue and dropped off!"

"No!" Elrond gasps. Elros looks both terrified and impressed. Maglor's face is scrunched up into something that the twins probably interpret as pained - at reminder of the horrors of limbs falling off! - but is actually just him busting a rib trying not to laugh.

"Yes!" Erestor cries with relish. "And it never grew back. All because he didn't eat his vegetables. Isn't that right, Lord Maedhros?"

Maedhros, a looming terror at the head of the table, scarred and solemn and impenetrable as his fortresses, narrows his eyes consideringly at the unfolding shenanigans and the rascal behind it. His conclusion? Fuck it. He gives a slow, solemn nod. Completely deadpan and exaggeratedly formal, because it may have been centuries since he last had his brothers smothering laughter at political dinners but the Finwëan sense of humour, once caught, is not an ailment easily cured.

Maglor conceals his wheezes behind his goblet as Erestor nods sagely to the wide-eyed twins, who suddenly seem a sight more interested in their vegetables.

[mythtiide]

its maid day so heres a little falkler! 🍨 + speedpaint !

[octo-blobs]

throné, the thief

[brambletakato]

i wanted to try to modify my art style and draw a bit of a body for once and actually push myself, but then my almost decade old drawing tablet threw a FITTT so no pen pressure stabilizer challenge it is

(based off of the image in cut)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent images I suppose ~

[m0e-ru]

lets think of everyone who had persona blogs and obliterated them off the face of the earth instead of just archiving and keep them in our thoughts tonight. everyone else who directly caused them into doing that go and fucking behave

[disegnidipizzo]

been meaning to make something for @brainrotdotorg's Inventory series for. an embarrassing amount of time. anyway. a totally normal vignette with 3 items that are totally not related to eachother in any way shape or form. inconspicuously laying there if you will.

[oozeandgoo-art]

had an odd dream that i was reading a comic book. sketched a couple of the pages i could remember.

[milesdadworth]

the only thing thats been bouncing around in my head the past week is that phoenix and miles's pillow talk in the year 2027 consists of simon blackquill and the UR-1 incident

[fappellmoan]

for months i genuinely wholeheartedly could not tell the 911 guys apart and this is so important for me to stress bc throughout my life i have prided myself on being able to tell twins apart really easily and liking being that person to connect faces to other things ive watched or honestly just seen in passing like i could track down a random commercial actress and shit and i mean i suppose part of that is not knowing their characters and they just twin all the time but i apologize still im aware that mans last name is diaz and now i feel like im sitting here laid up @ all the tumblr lesbians like haha damn so thats buck x eddie? that said idk if im like happy i know any of this.

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.