#and i’ve been up since like

[addsalwayssick]

chiron: poesiden has claimed you! you must go on this quest!

percy: no + ratio + shut up + no one cares + not his son + son of sally jackson + who asked + screw you + stop don’t talk to me loser lamo wannabe like o totally + the floss

[chloesimaginationthings]

The Vanessas and Mikes if they met sooner in FNAF..

[remxedmoon]

this was. supposed to be a warmup. i don’t know what happened. help.

(greyscale version + sketch below!!)

this drawing spiralled WILDLY out of control but i think it turned out sick so :3. also!!! i figured out a way to prevent tumblr from crunching up my art!!! tumblr won’t compress images if they have any amount of transparency in them, so i added two very thin (like. 1 pixel wide) lines of transparency on the top and bottom of these pics. they’re basically unnoticeable and they keep my image quality nice and hd!!! yipeee!!!!

anyways!! don’t mind how janky the sketch is. it sure is Something.

[ewwww-what]

The moment when you find exactly what you were looking for (it was your best friend the whole time)

(close-ups below & my commission info)

[kyurochurro]

GM it’s Christmas so my gift to u is an older spirk doodle of them walking the err uhhh unicorn dog alien thing from tos GSHSBHA based off that one scene from 101 Dalmatians u know the one ;D ✨💫

[haliaiii]

zuraaaa

[pallanophblargh]

Apologies, I’m justifiably livid and will be for… who knows how long.

Before I can find a way to put that to good use, here’s an equally angry sketch.

Rage against the dying of the light.

[sketchquill]

Bringing back my Nyan Cat Gijinka! ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ🌈✨

[otaku553]

He’s perfectly sane I swear

My submission for @where-does-the-heart-lie‘s DTIYS! Congrats on one year on tumblr!! Your art is always an absolute delight to see :D I hope this does it justice!

[crybaby-bkg]

“I thought I was supposed to be the one worshipping you today,” you say in a gasp, eyes fluttering close as you grip the sink counter tight in front of you. Bakugou only huffs a little laugh, his nails digging into the fat of your ass before he taps his palm against the flesh hard, eliciting a little hiccup from you.

“‘S my birthday, so what I say goes.” he tells you muffled, the vibration of his words making your knees quake. he has to hold you up, but he doesn’t care, finds the weight of you pressing back into him something he can get drunk off of.

he woke up nearly right after you did, trying to squeeze you close to him in bed but you scrambled out of his hold, promising to make him breakfast instead. you hadn’t expected him to follow you, to press you against the sink, to nip at your neck and kiss his way down to where your underwear rested on your hips. hadn’t expected him to drop to his knees, to worship, to kiss, to taste you. hadn’t expected him to lick you so sweetly with such a rough tongue through the fabric, for your arousal to bleed through onto his waiting tongue.

“Better than breakfast,” he mutters against you, thick fingers spreading you wide to get a good look at your winking hole, how it drools down the inside of your legs. he spits on it, diving back in to follow the trail, his lips puckering as if kissing you in such an intimate way, you think your vision goes black for a moment.

“Make me cum,” you whimper to him, his lapping pushing you up onto your toes, your hips digging into the sink counter. you reach a hand back to hold his face still with a grip on ash blond locks, grinding yourself against him until his face becomes sticky, but he grins all the while. rolls his tongue from his mouth, lets you use him because there’s no better present than being able to please you.

it comes out as a gush, your pleasure. sprays all over his mouth and chin and neck, your cries stuttered and high, your eyes clenched shut, your entire body shaking from the stimulation that overtakes you.

“Even better than birthday breakfast.” Bakugou grins, nose slightly scrunching at the tug to his hair when he slurps at your hole that still drips for him, spitting back the contents once more. he doesn’t catch it this time, just watches the thickness of his spit mingle with your pearlescent stained cum, thumbing open your cheeks to watch your hole clench and unclench from the scrutiny, the wetness slipping down your thighs.

he kisses you once more, a smacking sound, humiliating, before letting your cheeks go. not without another smack on the roundness of them, nipping at the red and warmed mark of his palm that he branded on you just moments before.

“A lot fucking better.” he tacks on once more about the stupid breakfast. you glare at him over your shoulder, even though he’s the one who’s keeping you held up right now with his firm grip around your still twitching hips.

“You’re gonna stop shading my cooking, asshole.” you bite at him, unable to hold back a shudder when you catch his devious grin, the bottom half of his face and neck still wet from your squirting.

“You caught that?” he asks with an innocent cock of his head, pressing another innocuous kiss to your warmed flesh. you tug at his hair a little harder this time, knowing it’s something that the birthday boy loves, especially by the way he’s damn near leaked through his white boxers.

“Shit head.” you mumble, but he only grins wider, his eyes flickering with the promise of devouring you whole today. just as a little birthday treat, he supposes.

[sofd-maybe]

Ancient hk doodles from under my bed

[chloesimaginationthings]

The Mikes and Vanessas celebrate 10 years of FNAF!

[fosliie]

An ache I still remember

Finally done!! A lil something about grief, grudges, longing and all that good stuff

[minimujina]

wriothesley is an old lover, i think. he’s tough and strong and oh-so-ruggedly handsome; he’s a gentle handler, a slow mover. it takes knowing someone a long time before he can either fall in love with them or, if he happened to fall fast and hard, get the guts to do something about it.

when he does something about it, it’s so romantic and genuine and sweet that you’ll want to metaphorically throw up. in a time where things move so fast—technology makes strides every day, engineers are speeding along the progress of society, and people become daily entangled in small trysts of passion, leaving fragments of themselves scattered—wriothesley moves deliciously slow.

it makes you feel so special, the way he practically courts you. he’s so god damn respectful of everything about you, it’s disgusting. the simple ways he shows affection for you are so beautiful and veneratingly intimate that it almost feels vulgar. wriothesley naturally creates a space around himself that is so safe and so quiet, you melt into vulnerability before you can even think. he makes it easy to be relaxed, and that can be scary when you are used to being on guard.

he is patient, and he’s kind. he’s certainly not perfect, as no one can be—he has his flaws, and he recognizes his own shortcomings. though easy to talk to, easy to get along with, wriothesley does guard his heart carefully, masking himself and his intentions until he’s gauged the trustworthiness of a companion. it can sometimes be difficult to bring the defenses down, even in the most trusted presence; he is used to being fully performative, fully vigilant. he can struggle to communicate in this stage, because he is uncertain of himself and others and, frankly, everything all at once. but once the wall comes down, he’s all authentic, coming as he is without the pre-painted mask.

i feel as if it takes a lot of mutual comfort and reassurance in that stage of scary vulnerability. it is somewhat grotesque to be seen as you are and then to watch someone choose to see more of you over and over and over. you are dying and you are living and it’s mortifying and really very wonderful.

after the initial knowing, there comes the valley where it feels as if your souls begin to intertwine, and the knowing becomes so much more intimate than you might have prepared yourself for. wriothesley wants to hide, and you might too. there are probably some bumps where he puts off replying to letters, or perhaps you procrastinate scheduling visits to the fortress, and you both act very silly, and you misunderstand and squabble a bit and make up. the silliness, however, is not unwarranted, as you both are very aware of how scary it can be to like someone and to be liked. and to watch and feel as the liking turns to loving, and knowing turns to becoming, and suddenly your hands and hearts are glued like crafts and it would be a dire mistake to unravel the lovely work of two loving souls—but moving forward is still, perhaps, so very uncomfortable. but you will, you will do it.

wriothesley likes you so much that he feels himself fall apart. the entirety of the strength he has built up within himself wavers under your soft gaze; your eyes rip him to shreds, but gently, lovingly. you reduce him to nothing but a lovestruck schmuck.

the depths of his adoration for you are, in a sense, biblical. if you have no religious background, you could call his love something sacred, something reverent. he’d never anticipated feeling this way for someone; now that he’s become so deeply entrenched in everything about you, wriothesley feels a deep need to protect and to provide. he is unsure what the future could look like due to his position as the duke of meropide, but he is certain that everything will fall into place if it is meant to be. whatever the case, he’s an absolute schmuck, hanging off your every word and footstep. 100% would follow you around like a lost puppy were he not duty-bound to his work.

for you, it’s really the fact that you could sit in his presence for hours, safely and peacefully, without having spoken a word. there could be no sound in his office but the time-dusted record playing and tea-crusted pages turning, and all would still be well. no guessing, nothing under the rug for you to worry your silly head about—it is just he and you and his work and your books, and the music and his breathing and your humming and embroidery. nothing has transpired but the work that has been done and the record that has played a dozen times over. you may pick up where you left off with him, only with a lighter chest and clearer mind.

sigewinne would oft find the duke passed out in his big red chair, his sweet little lover over on the couch gone to dreamland all the same. it was picturesque. she sometimes wished she could call her friend mamere to paint it, to capture in art whatever it was she could not with words. sigewinne was still learning about humans—and she could glean a lot just from watching you and the duke. but sometimes, like this domestic scene, she would find herself puzzled, unable to describe the feelings that emerged from seeing two humans so safe and comfortable with each other in this particular manner. sigewinne would tip-toe back down the stairs and out of the duke’s office, much to ponder, and much to ask monsieur neuvillette.

very self indulgent, but i finally wrote something 😵‍💫 it just came out like blaarrggh

[raiiny-bay]

some WIPs from the 80s AU i never finished

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

something about how both wei wuxian and jin guangyao repeatedly say they ‘didn’t have a choice’ in their actions. in both cases, it’s not literal impossibility, instead determined by their mindsets and personal conduct…. but while for wei wuxian that means he can’t do something immoral, even if it means losing all his social power, for jin guangyao it means he can’t do anything to lose his social power, even if it means doing something immoral. the other option is still there, but it’s never one they’d pick.

something about how they’re trying to walk the same path but in opposite directions: wei wuxian willingly left the nice, broad road in favour of upholding morals and debts, while jin guangyao is trying to claw onto it and stay there by any means necessary. in both cases, being parted from it so easily is only possible because this nice, broad road — full of people whose social power is unconditional, given at birth, independent of their actions — was never truly theirs to begin with. but despite how it is possible to be forced off due to nothing, as we see with wang lingjiao, the positions of both these characters were ultimately due to actions they took.

(about how no matter the similarity of the paths, no matter the narrowness of the choices, the direction you take is still up to you.)