#I think this is a fun idea

[gaylittleeddie]

NEW FIC :)

[vacantgodling]

oh yeah i’m actually gonna do repostober so i’m gonna go through my ipad and just post a bunch of art that i’ve done since 2020 (when i first got my ipad) to now teehee

[yzafre]

Torrential gale

more on this concept below

This is a concept for my wings AU that I'm calling hybrid keys. To explain my thought process, first I want to briefly cover how I, personally, conceptualize the ability to wield the Keyblade.

First, it's been very explicitly stated that the succession ceremony passes on the potential to wield the Keyblade, not a specific blade or even the guarantee of one. I think of this as, like, pulling a single ember from the fire and putting it in a new pit. If tended to, it then has the potential to grow into a new, different fire.

If this is done properly, you get a new light/star/energy tuned specifically to the heart of the receiver, and thus the base form of their Keyblade. I think of it as a sort of... flavored energy inside them, intrinsically linked to their heart. Then you can do energy>mass conversion and ta-da, Keyblade! But like, this energy is still sort of inside you, or connected to you, or... whatever, it's magic. We're not going super in-depth on my Keyblade head-cannons here.

Second, key-chains. The idea here is that, normally, you are summoning the energy out specifically through your heart. That's what shapes your base form. When using a Keyblade, you summon the energy through the medium of the key-chain.

I think of key-chains as like, condensed... intent? Emotions? Thus, pulling the energy out through that nexus will shape it based on what was forged into the chain/charm.

Finally, Hybrid Keys. This is a phenomenon made possible by the bond between Flight members. This is when you summon the energy of someone else's key through the medium of your own heart.

Keys are initially shaped by hearts on a more subconscious level, see point one, so there is less active intent shaping them then a key-chain. So what you tend to end up getting is the shape favored by the original wielder's heart with the themes or motifs favored by the summoner's.

Thus, Torrential Gale, which has the general shape of Ventus's Wayward Wind, but with the color-scheme,teeth-shape, and general ornate-ness of Aqua's Rainfell.

[eggwishing]

I ONCE TRIED TO WASH THAT SCUFFED OLD THING WHILE HE WAS TAKING ONE OF HIS NAPS, BUT WHEN I TOOK IT OFF HE WAS WEARING ANOTHER IDENTICAL ONE UNDERNEATH! AND ANOTHER! I GOT THROUGH TEN MORE LAYERS OF THE SAME THING BEFORE HE WOKE UP. I WAS SO FRUSTRATED! WHERE DID HE EVEN GET THOSE FROM? THEY ALL EVEN HAD THE SAME STAINS!!

[candyje11yfish]

[wip] shooting star frye!!! i Looove spacey stuff!!!!

[joshuamj]

Okay, but what if EoW!Zelda had to impersonate Link

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny finally meets FNAF tape girl in person...

[punnifullife]

more robstar art but now ft. some batfam!! This doesn't even scratch the surface of doodles i'll be posting...still mostly robstar but now I got other plans involving the batfam hehe

[devsgames]

Me: "hey game developers, especially AAA ones, are getting laid off en-mass and it's awful for our industry" Gamer: "well I only play INDIE games and the problem with AAA games is they are creatively bankrupt"

Me, slamming my fists on the table like a baby: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS IS ABOUT A BUSINESS PROBLEM PERPETUATED BY CAPITALISM NOT A STATEMENT ON CREATIVE DECISION MAKING"

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[worm-on-a-blog]

woahh 2024! cheers!

happy new year. worms are rooting for you to have your best year yet.

[verflares]

who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Only he can make him laugh like that...

Jack Desmond is the silly guy. Gavriel Huffman is the scary guy. They come from different worlds that has contrasting genres, one more cartoonishly comedic and the other much dramatically darker.

It's kind of a running gag that Sir Huffman is unable to laugh without looking absolutely wicked. Both in the cartoon world and his own world.

That doesn't stop Jack from being completely smitten with him though, his voice is the most mind-melting thing he's ever had the pleasure to hear

[AUDIO USED:] Men I Trust - show me how

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[benevolenterrancy]

just started reading SVSSS and so far I'm very amused by what seems to be the dynamic...

Shen Qingqiu: aggressively overthinking everything in a desperate effort not to literally die Luo Binghe: thinking absolutely nothing except "😍" which is bouncing around like a little screensaver