#and i’m not on there much lately

[ovium-sheep]

FINALLY. AFTER 13 LONG HOURS (a lot of them procrastinating) IT IS FINISHED!!

[istillbleed]

give us a kiss 💋

[the-phantom-peach]

skyward sword… yeah <3

Crimson Loftwing

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

[fulcrum-art-fox]

I think something I actually really appreciate for some reason about Arcane is that it’s got all these big cool weapons that it’s very happy to throw under the bus. The way all of the Hextech weapons malfunction in awkward ways in the big pivotal emotional s2 ep3 fight. The way Vi and Jayce are set up for an epic moment with the hammer in s2 ep1 and undercut by the fact they miss. Jayce’s first outing with the hammer undermined by the fact he accidentally kills a child with it. The way they hyped up a fight between Jayce and his hammer and Vi and her gauntlets (that a lesser show would have had happen for the visual alone) only to have Jayce decide not to fight. The way Vi wins her s1 finale fight with Sevika using a function of the gauntlets she didn’t seem to realise they had. All the way back to the monkey bomb that went so spectacularly wrong. Like it really highlights the way the main priority is the writing and the characters, and yeah they’ll throw in a funky looking weapon shot because of course they will it’s a video game adaptation but they never miss an opportunity to yeet that coolness under the bus in favour of the shows actual messages and themes, and to show that the characters are human and fallible. They almost use the fact that the audience is primed to look at the weapons in order to deliberately swap them out suddenly with what the story is actually about

[demonic0angel]

Liminality Headcanons (click for clarity)

I saw a video that was talking about how uncomfortable and creepy really attractive people with no imperfections were on the internet and described them as “uncanny”, and I had the reaction of an alpha werewolf during the full moon 😀

That is EXACTLY how I want Jazz to look like!! Like she’s beautiful, gorgeous, whatever you want to call her, but she’s also so creepy like a realistic painting or a horror movie demon has possessed a pretty girl. I want her so beautiful that she gives you a bad feeling when you stare at her for too long.

So all of these sketches was drawn around Jazz lmao.

More notes on my ideas on liminality bc otherwise, I’ll just write about Jazz for several hundred words lmao:

+ I have mentioned it before, but I like it when the DP and DC world are separated (bc it lets me worldbuild two worlds! :D) so as such, liminals from both worlds are slightly different, but they can have overlapping abilities and similarities. DC liminals are more likely to have volatile tempers, better physical senses, quicker healing capabilities, and more sensitive/fragile mental states. DP liminals are more likely to have ‘meta’ abilities/powers, are more likely to become ghosts, often have ‘cartoony logic’ levels of physical abilities (more springy joints, can jump farther/higher, punch harder, but this is only at random intervals and cannot be guaranteed), and are also usually more well-adjusted bc the DP world is heavily saturated with ectoplasm so they are used to its effects.

+ I hc that ghosts feed on fear and negative emotions. Liminals are also similar, but they feed unconsciously, so they adapt accordingly by growing stronger, taller, bigger, longer, with more features to spread subtle fear amongst the people around them and feed themselves.

+ Jazz has longer limbs than a normal person would have :3 rather than being just tall, she is simply long.

+ Danny is unexpectedly the most ‘normal’ looking of all halfas, but I like to imagine that bc he’s so powerful, he subconsciously hides himself and as such, looks unassuming. He doesn’t need to be fearsome bc he doesn’t need to feed himself much when he’s so strong. Bc of this, he looks like two different people when transformed, since his ghost side is far more liminal and uncanny looking than when he’s human.

+ I hc that liminals are pack creatures. Alone, they’re creepy and uncanny as a defense mechanism, but when together, they look more ‘human’ when they relax. I feel like this can work in both DP and DC worlds. (Jason is a creepy shit when he’s Red Hood alone, while Danny hides himself amongst Tucker and Sam.)

+ There are many ways to become a liminal, but all involve ectoplasm in varying amounts.

+ Due to being predators that prey on humans, liminals and ghosts can often behave in animalistic ways. Specifically, they act somewhat like cats at times. An example is the tapetum lucidum, which is an extra layer of film that can be found over a cat’s eyes that let them see in low lighting. This also makes their eyes glow when light shines on it, and I also want liminals to have that :3

+ Idk if you guys noticed that I draw the Dannies' tongues purplish, but yeah, it's on purpose.

[shripscapi]

Ygritte commission for @jaehaeryshater 🩵

[bloobydabloob]

Holy shit I love your Dirk interpretations, it's so true and I could talk about this shit forever. I feel like another part of his character that people seem to forget (along with Roxy for some reason) is that he's from the future in solitude in an apocalyptic wasteland. I just see that part of his character always removed which is disappointing because I feel like that's a pretty big part, especially regarding his themes around technology, his brother's theme of Time, his own isolation, and how he plays in the vastness of the universe and spacetime.

Art I drew related to the subject because I like to respond to asks with art.

But absolutely. I certainly understand where the lack of discussion over his isolation + upbringing comes from, considering a majority of the fanbase that I have seen builds their ideas based on their own version of postcanon. I’m not entirely sure how that would be fixed, but certainly even in the somewhat recent past I would see a lot more content regarding his upbringing both literally and symbolically. I don’t have much to add regarding the things you’ve mentioned, because they just are what they are. Dirk being confined to a singular room left to him by a father figure he never met, in a future where the only other person left on the planet is someone he cannot pursue a relationship of because of himself, with purely 3 robots to keep him companion, one being an exact replica of his own brain who is *also* trapped inside a pair of glasses, is about as literal as it gets to me.

The contrast to me involving the flooded, organic world in comparison to the little speckle of Dirk’s apartment packed with the dude and his technics is not only a representation of his isolation and entrapment within himself, but also of his lack of control. I think his obsession with & themes of control are a direct product in the case of Dirk specifically *of* this kind of upbringing. His themes of technology are also related to his themes around control. So much of his character is actually revolved around this to me like so much. Dirk is so deeply disconnected from humanity in every way and so much of his character + symbolism is based around that.

It doesn’t even have to be about the symbolism or anything though. It’s just pretty *interesting* in the literal sense that he lives in the middle of the ocean in the future. There’s not only a lot to theorise on to do with his young life there, but on how it might affect him in the way he acts for the rest of his life. The latter part is probably what I see mentioned the most by people talking about Dirk regarding this, I’m surprised I don’t see more discussion on the former too though. I really ought to actually talk more about Homestuck stuff on here. I will do it myself.

Roxy & Dirk’s relationship is largely ignored though because there is a narrative a certain demographic spreads that Dirk resented and blamed Roxy for her interest in him, and thus too many people believe that their relationship was or would continue to be an abusive one. Realistically, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that the way Roxy treated Dirk regarding his homosexuality wasn’t right while still acknowledging the obvious amount of respect and admiration Dirk had for Roxy. I mean we have a huge piece of dialogue from their post trickster mode conversations on the quest beds from Dirk purely stating how he feels about Roxy that people completely ignore somehow. I think this usually happens to characters that are women though. I know everyone says it, but it is true. Jane gets the exact same treatment of boiling her down to solely her negative aspects. The things I see completely mischaracterising both of them are horrific.

I mean how much more explicit can it get that their relationship is obviously very important to Dirk? But I digress. I think the best or I should say “most interesting” interpretations of their relationship usually come from DirkRoxy shippers actually.

I would be interested to hear about Dirk’s relation to his brother’s theme of time though. I don’t have any thoughts on this and I don’t recall ever hearing anyone talk about it before. If you or anyone else would be willing to enlighten me I’d be thrilled.

[impaladin]

redraw? study?? of scarlet from the back of the limited edition tdp, because i’m obsessed with her expression/eyes on there. joy ang’s scarlet my beloved

speedpaint and comparison under the cut

[yurokiku]

Hbd (late..) to my son Irumaaa!!!!💙💙💙

[endermagpieart]

What do you mean I’m a bit late for Janus’ big day? Of course not, how could you say such a thing! I definitely didn’t forget all about it in my absence and only get reminded in the incorrect quotes video live chat; that’s not like me at all ;]

Anyways I decided to dress our sassy snake in some different outfits I think he’d like. He seems like the type to get all dolled up on his birthday and it goes with Thomas posting pics in outfits inspired by the sides on their appreciation days!

@thatsthat24

[daisysmalia]

Every time I see someone recommend skipping 911 season 1 and just starting with season 2 an angel loses its wings 😔

[jesuistrestriste]

Sage hear me out...

Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy

art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.

he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.

sigh.

when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.

“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.

“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.

he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.

and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.

“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”

he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”

the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.

“can i… can i please have you now?”

a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.

“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.

“you’re forgetting something, Art.”

it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.

“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”

the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”

“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“

his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.

“what do you want?”

god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.

but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.

there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).

but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.

“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”

you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.

you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.

you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.

“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.

art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.

you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.

you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers—letting them wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.

his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.

he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.

“please, mommy”

“come in my mouth, mommy”

“give it all to me, mommy”

“i can take it, mommy”

you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?

he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.

and holy fuck, you come hard.

a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.

“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”

you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.

but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.

“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.

he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.

your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.

you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.

“so good, baby..”

art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.

he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.

something that he’s earnestly dying to say.

something that he knows you deserve to hear.

“thank you.”

[potato-lord-but-not]

How does Oscar close his shirt buttons now that he's missing an arm? Like, has he just perfected the ways of singlehandedly closing them, or does he get help?

he’s definitely figured out how to do it on his own, but that won’t stop him from letting the others’ help when they ask

also like to think John sometimes does things one handed just cus he’s gotten used to it and is too stubborn to admit he’s doing something really inefficiently when someone points it out

and uh Arthur can’t be trusted with anything let’s be honest

[shorthaltsjester]

just constantly thinking about percy telling vex that he’d like to think they’re all better than they think they are (except her brother, of course) . constantly thinking about when vex tells percy he’s a good man and he gets awkward and flustered and returns that she’s a good woman and when she gets as awkward and flustered he goes “see. it’s not very nice is it.” percy shouting to ripley that he forgives her and vex carves forgive into the wood of her bow. vex tells percy to take off his mask and percy comes across vex in tears and scrubbing at her armour. god. the campaign starts and percy is making arrows as flirting and getting kisses in return and the campaign ends and exhausted and knowing it won’t be a want that will be fulfilled percy admits he never wants to make another weapon and vex equally exhausted affirms that he’ll never Have to. and god . god . opposites attract is great or whatever but the deliciousness of dynamics where the characters hold up a mirror to one another where they get to shed the burden of self and see someone Like Them as someone good or capable of being better and Falling In Love. and that love being a pathway to them coming to grips with their own image and their own capacity to be better. and that the fact that the person they fall for being someone so Familiar means that they see through each other’s shit. that percy sees that vex has fallen into the trap of Nobility tricking people into thinking that makes them inherently better and giving her the only whitestone title someone has to earn beyond selection or marriage or birth. that vex sees percy forgive ripley and discusses the importance of that choice but reminds him that it’s just as important that he forgive himself.

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Charming ur wife so you can continue working on something sick

[bazpango]

[WIP] captive