#Warm Up

[anonbeadraws]

today's warm up: Foliage My birthday flowers from @thecoffeerain deserved a little bit of art, don't you think?

[valiumings]

Freedom is being able to draw Shang Qinghua as moe as I want

[moobloom-mention]

Isn't It Ironic? [Warm-Up]

Summary: Macaque can't say there aren't times in which he doesn't miss the Lady Bone Demon's presence. It was far easier to keep his joints working under her thumb, no matter how controlling she was.

It's a good thing he's found a new solution for his joint pain in the form of weed. Though, maybe he should've noticed the drug's pungent scent before he agreed to hang out with MK and Wukong.

Content Warning(s): Drug use

Word Count: 795

I couldn't help myself, I had to do a small warm-up inspired by this comic.

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For all intensive purposes, Macaque would say he's been coping with the Lady Bone Demon's death rather well.

Not to say he misses the witch- gods, what a fucked up world that would have to be -but going through his "second chance" on the mortal plane had sure been a hell of a lot easier when she still existed.

His joints never ached at the mere thought of standing whilst he was ensnared by her chains, nor had he ever felt something amiss with his magic's attempts to regenerate. It seemed as though somehow the witch had become an unknowing well of magic for his body to take from- a discovery that Macaque had definitely wished he'd made before her defeat.

Maybe then he could've kept MK from eradicating her entirely, persuading him to keep just a small piece of her soul on the mortal plane. It wouldn't have even needed to be much. Just enough to be an anchor to draw magic from and keep his body from reverting back to how it was before his- rather sloppily performed -resurrection.

After all, bodies had no reason to move once their souls were carried to Diyu.

Macaque lets his head roll until his cheek rubs itself pleasantly against the grass, the blades tall enough to wave themselves gracefully before his gaze.

...maybe the witch's death isn't all that bad, though. He certainly wouldn't be relaxing within one of Flower Fruit Mountain's many fields of grass if she were still around.

His ears twitch, two glamoured pairs flicking mindlessly at the grass his head hadn’t completely flattened. The voices of MK and his friends echo distantly, light and airy as their words converge into nothing but gentle rumbles and laughter. That, too, likely wouldn’t occur if the Lady Bone Demon were still around. 

Days of relaxation can’t exist when there’s an ever-looming threat that skirts just over the horizon of their future. 

Macaque’s jaw clicks open just in time for a yawn to escape him. He hadn’t truly been interested in taking a trip to Flower Fruit Mountain, but MK had been a little too insistent that he join their outing today. An insistence that’d implied Wukong wouldn’t be the happiest should Macaque decide not to show up. 

Not that Macaque could care less about the implied “threat”, he just hadn’t really wanted to deal with a tantrum the size of the Heavens. Besides, napping on Flower Fruit Mountain had sounded a little too appealing, especially after having smoked a joint. 

Why bother staring at the walls of his room when he had an entire sky painted for his viewing pleasure and a sun to bask in the warmth of?

...a sun that's definitely brighter than whatever nuisance had decided to disrupt his peace by standing over him. Macaque's ear flicks. Maybe his room would've been a better choice.

His tail flicks aimlessly about the grass as he forces an eyelid open despite how heavy the lid feels. The body isn't moving, and Macaque would rather know who he's about to scold before words tumble from his mouth.

Golden irises interlock themselves together. Of course. Macaque should've known Wukong would bother him eventually.

The great nuisance of a sage's nose gives a strange twitch.

"Wha'?" Macaque asks, the words drawn out lazily. "Don't tell me you caught a cold?"

It almost looks painful the way Wukong finally tears his gaze away from Macaque, choosing instead to tilt his head toward the distant treetops. A good choice, if Macaque has anything to say about it. He’d already been interrupted from his nap once. He doesn’t need it to happen a second time. 

“You’re stinking up my field.” 

Oh isn’t that just ironic. 

Macaque can't help the way his lips twitch into a soft smile, the skin beneath his eyes creasing in his state of amusement. "Don't like the smell of shampoo? Figures." 

"A shampoo that smells like you just got into a fight with skunks?" 

A fight with skunks-? 

Macaque carefully shimmies himself into a sitting position, letting the world spin around him before he settles back onto Wukong's piercing gaze. His confusion must've been a little too obvious because Wukong's expression morphs into one of smugness.

"I knew it," the great sage sneers. "You couldn't at least have taken a bath before coming here?”

“Y’know, if anyone bathes between the two of us, we both know it isn’t you,” Macaque answers with his own twisted grin. Before the sage can provoke him any further, he lets himself fall back into the grass in a pile of uncoordinated limbs and dazed eyes. "'Sides, maybe I'll absorb the flowers' scent if I lay in 'em long enough."

"Or kill the flora within a mile radius."

"I'll take my chances."

Bros gotta lock in or Wukongs gonna beat his ass smh

[dragonsketchbook]

First batch of warm ups for the new year~~~

[inkskinned]

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

[mintcakeart]

cowboy warmup sketch 26/2/24 ft. the transgenderification beam

[adzowski]

Silly warm-up with the gaang hehe

[mintmatcha]

cw: kids, reader has birth control implant

"Do you have something to tell me?"

Bakugo still has half of his hero uniform on, smudges of grime and soot across his face and neck. There's a clear, white demarcation where his shirt was and a trail of dirt behind his boots.

"I just fucking vaccuumed."

"I'll do it later." He quickly dismisses, even as he begins to kick off his shoes. "Why are there condoms on the grocery list?"

You shrug and go back to parusing on your phone. "We'll need them."

"For fucking what?"

You shoot his a glance, one eyebrow lifted. "For sex, dumbass."

"Dumbass." He repeats back, tone high and mocking. "We've never used a single condom our whole relationship-- you let me cream you the first fucking date."

You wrinkle your nose, even though he's right. There hasn't been a day since that first date that you haven't felt the delightfully uncomfortable wetness of cum sliding around inside you.

"Don't say it like that- you're gross." You raise your arm and gesture to the little scar there. "My birth control has to come out- its at the end of its life."

He rolls his eyes with a grunt, arms crossed tight over his torso. "That's it?"

"You were the one who said a kid 'maybe next year,' so we'll need condoms until then."

Bakugo plops down on the couch next to you, throwing your calves over his thighs. "We'll just move up the timeline. Start making one now, baby for the summer. No condoms."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I don't want to be pregnant in the summer. It's too hot to be carrying another human-- and I want to drink on the beach."

Bakugo looks at you with a grimace, lip curled up to show gum. "Are you fucking serious?"

"We can start trying in, I dunno." You count on your fingers, trying to do the math. "End of August."

"August?!" he gapes. "Motherfucker. I gotta call Kirishima."

"About condoms?"

"I gotta ask him about saving his brats onesies." He leans back on to the couch, brow knitted tight. "There's no way I'm not knocking you up by accident before August."

You shoot him a glare.

He meets your eye. "Keep giving me attitude and you'll have a bun in the oven by next month."

[stormy-skyzzzzzz-art]

damian and batcow

[gomzdrawfr]

Seal Force 141

based on this

[wolfertinger666]

my take on falin

[anonbeadraws]

today's warm up: Day Night! Gonna try and do one every day! Wish me luck!

[moonteaa]

The sparrow!

More Zelda warmup doodles 🍃🤍✨

[valenrepetto]

Warmuppsss of THE KING🫵💥❤️

Every single scene of him is adorable

[cendiqii]

aventurine warmup

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.