#and wrote a lot more stuff

[kuro-is-doodlin]

I just realized you guys don't know about this silly au :D

The name's "On the house", and it's basically a chill coffeeshop au with some bit of sad and trauma in it too (it's still isat after all!)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A fierce duel commences!

[phonification]

ive been thinking about taco and balloon forming a little alliance post s1/ pre s2 where they'd (begrudgingly) work together planning on how to break into hotel OJ to steal stuff to take back to their makeshift camp like food, blankets, pillows, etc,,, anything that could be useful to them

[pearlsdiamondsandvodka]

this game changer episode was so funny because it really highlighted how predictable brennan is lmao (and how well mike knows him)

[malenjoyer]

Good morning 🙏🏼

I want to thank everyone their support with reblogging my stuff over the years and reblogging some of the context of the situation.

Tumblr and Instagram is filled with the most supportive people I’ve ever had the chance of meeting. The last time something like this happened, I didn’t have much support, not even from people I thought were close to me. It took me a year or two to be okay with being perceived again in fandoms. So I’m very grateful for everything.

I just wanted to post that I appreciate all of the asks and I’ve been reading all of them. I actually get anxious I’m spamming everyone too much so I probably won’t reply to everything. Please don’t feel pressured to support me financially, there’s is a free option on patreon to follow. I’ll post future project plans and occasional updates because I still love comics and I still love DC/Marvel. I do enjoy having people following along for my art/reading journey so I would always be okay with people just following for free. My brain is telling me this post is too long now so I will go 🙏🏼😭

[katabay]

hello! i'm an amateur/aspiring artist who enjoys your work a lot :D i was wondering where you get references for fashion in your medieval/arthuriana pieces?

museums! a lot have online collections to look at: the met is my go to a lot of the time, and the worcester art museum has the higgins armory collection currently. movies, shows, comics, if they have a costume aesthetic I really enjoy. dover publication has a couple of books collecting medieval fashion over the centuries I like to flip through.

nc wyeth's medieval illustrations, arthur rackham, and john william waterhouse too. medieval tapestries and manuscripts. 13th-16th italian fashion & art. lately I've been playing more with 4th-~11th century roman/byzantine influences! renfaire/medieval reeactment photos are a great visual resource too.

claire hummel's historical fashion resource doc is an excellent starting point and resource, additionally this collection of illustrators.

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

Reason I like William Afton FNaF so much is cus that motherfucker has range. Yes he's a child serial killer but he also has funny cartoon dice on his bright purple convertable. He may be actual satan or something analagous but he views himself as a cute little bunny. He may be a horror franchise villain but this is a horror-COMEDY so... y'know he's a little bit silly.

[yuri-is-online]

I can get why yutus so afraid of azul. He's heard a hundred stories about a suave, smug, but clingy octopus and then he meets him and hes this possessive little swinderler who's trying to get him to sell his soul to him and fuck his parent lmao

referencing the tags on this ask about this au

Tako Yutu didn't have the easiest time as a kid.

He was a chubby little thing raised by a single parent who didn't have the clearest memories of his father, or of their past at all really. I wrote Yuu and Yutu as being a sort of outcasts in the community because people thought they were strange, and were skeptical of Yuu's amnesia. Azul! Yutu was really bothered by that, much like his dad he got bullied and sought solace in books, but unlike him Yuu decided to enroll Yutu in some martial arts classes and hey. He was pretty good at those, his submission holds are real bad news, even won him some competitions. But he's not some muscle head even if he sort of looks like one (he didn't really drop his baby weight so much as he did bulk up) so when he gets his first real look at his father... everything in him is screaming that this guy is sketchy. He knows that Azul and the twins are watching him even if he can't see it outright and to make matters worse, when he asks his parent about him they make a face. A face Yutu knows well that he thought was reserved for the annoying nosy couple who lived next door to you and not his father. His father who Yuu's few memories had made sound wonderful; his father who was supposedly talented and hard working, smart and proud of it, but so desperately in love with his parent they still longed for him with broken memories in a completely different world. His father who Yuu had said he was so much like.

"He's not a bad guy." Yuu says and Grim huffs.

"Don't listen to them Henchuman 2." Yutu has no idea how he feels about Grim calling him that. "Azul's reeeeeeeal bad news. If he's interested in ya' it can only mean one thing, he's after your tuna and he's after your magic."

"That's two things." A smooth voice says at the same time he does and for once, Yutu sees surprise on Azul's face when he tries to make eye contact and not carefully calculated confidence.

"Well they do say great minds think alike." His father says and extends a hand. "But I must say you didn't strike me as the shy type, it is Yutu right?" The way he says it, the way he shakes his hand, Yutu knows he at least suspects him. So he smiles and makes sure to make his handshake just a touch too firm when he responds.

"That's right." Yutu is impressed that Azul doesn't flinch even slightly when he pulls back his hand, if anything his little action makes his smile wider. "And not so much shy as just curious and knowing better than to poke my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Not until you've asked anyway." Azul really isn't content with letting him remain ambiguous, he thinks nervously glancing back to Yuu. "But still there really is no need to bother the prefect over such trivial things, if you have questions about me you can just pay me a visit at the Mostro Lounge. My door is always open to poor unfortunate souls such as yourself." Azul smiles at him and adjusts his glasses and Yutu is... impressed even if the thought of being alone with this man terrifies him. But he's going to have to be eventually, Azul really wants to talk to him for some reason and Yutu finds himself wondering if he's going to find it possible to lie, or just what price he will be expected to pay to have the privilege of keeping his secrets.

But when he looks at the way Azul talks to Yuu... he isn't sure if he likes it but he does find it funny. Azul is so horrendously down bad and Yuu is so unaware of it (there's a part of him that thinks Azul might be a little bit jealous of him which he finds really funny). And Yutu understands why Yuu likes Azul so much. He is everything they remembered him being: smart, ambitious, and motivated. It makes him a little more secure in his existence even if he doubts that Azul will like having a son like him. But that's ok too because a son like him is exactly what's needed to make sure his parents get to stay together in this timeline.

now if only he can convince him to stop bugging him for his real name

[rosesradio]

You're the only person i follow who posts about thomas sanders

And i only watch him for sanders sides, i'm not really in the fsndom online, so i guess you are the best person to ask this

Why does thomas take so long to upload new sander sides?

ten questions scientists still can't answer, anon

[cocksley-and-catapult]

your handwriting is really good

[arkiwii]

also while im at it, those who follow my main account probably heard me talking about an ARPG (art role play group) on Deviant Art im in, called Grimsby Grove, with a semi closed evoluting species, and sometimes i have fun making fake designs for arknights characters because the brainrot is just too strong and i get funny ideas with the mechanisms and stuff available in the group

currently the group is closed because of halloween event happening (which is why i am very busy art wise, i have so much on my plate), but the discord is still open and u can hang out there if u wanna, i will pass say hello

[43sol]

i can finally go back into the tiger and bunny tag ヽ(*。>Д<)o゜

[eri-pl]

Silm Advent calendar 4: Beard*

Warnings: sort of a small panic attack in PoV. Implications of… well, we are seeing Celebrimbor post-reembodiment. So you can estimate. But only implications.

"I wish I could see them again," said Celebrimbor. "The Dwarves, I mean." It was still somewhat strange to speak with words.

Mahtan smiled. "I wish I could see one of them too."

Right. Great-grandfather hadn't ever met any of the Khazad, obviously. Because he had enough common sense to not leave. Obviously. Celebrimbor looked at him. "I'm sorry."

Mahtan laughed and continued leading him down the stony corridors of Lord Aulë's mansion.

Assuming that he could continue the conversation, Celebrimbor said "I've always wondered, and Narvi too—how it is with beards? Are they something Lord Aulë invented, or...?" He trailed off. It seemed a stupid question.

And yet, his great-grandfather was not offended. He stroked his own—meticulously braided— beard, and spoke. "I've always assumed it was his thing, as I had not grown mine before I became his apprentice. But now of course they say the Men have those too— they do, right? It's not another thing Pengolodh made up?"

"Oh yes, they do have beards. Some quite impressive."

They went down another set of stairs, the corridor was windowless and illuminated with lamps. It felt like home, but safer.

"Mhm. See, Tyelpe, we're somewhat secluded here. Nor Tuor, nor of course Earendil had one, so... Anyway, I'm sure you'll grow it eventually."

"I don't— I mean, the fact that I could work with— Despite everything— It's just so much more than I could ever deserve."

Mahtan laughed again—a deep, rolling laughter that felt in place in those stone halls. "You will need to get accustomed to working with people who aren't— nasty."

The forge noises became louder, discouraging further dialogue. Not long after, they reached an arched gate, leading to a huge workshop, where Maiar and Elves worked, and of course, in the center, the Smith himself.

All the hammers stopped and the room went silent. Celebrimbor bowed deeply, barely daring to look at the Vala.

Lord Aulë smiled. "Come, you two. Mahtan, my friend, we've moved your things already. Tyelperinquar, I'm so glad to see you. I— I still don't understand your kind well, but Mahtan said you won't be offended— it is the best workplace after all." As the two Elves came closer, he spoke more quietly. "As an apology."

In the centre of the forge, next to Lord Aulë's huge, carved stone workbench with mithril top, stood two others, smaller, but even more ornate. One, to which Mahtan walked and began checking the tools, was made of bright white stone carved in intricate geometric patterns, parts of which seemed moveable. The other one — apparently meant for Celebrimbor — was a gold square design of perfect four-fold symmetry, with the tools sorted by size and type. While not dusted—nothing in Aman was—it was long unused, judging from types of the tools. There was a peculiar beauty to it, like—

His head went light and he grasped the edge of the golden table— than let it go immediately— if that was to be his apology, he'd have to bear it— he was better now, after years in Mandos—and yet, the very memory—

Mahtan held him like he used to do when Tyelpe was a small boy visiting his forge with the same fascination as his father and grandfather before.

"Shhh. It's all right. It is all right—" he repeated louder. "He will get over it, just give us a moment." He turned his face back to Celebrimbor, whispering: "It's all right. You don't have to, if you don't want to."

"But…. My apology—"

Great-grandfather held him tighter. "Not your apology, Tyelpe. Lord Aulë meant it as his apology to you. He felt like he owed it, especially as there's nobody else to apologize to you now, I think. But let's not get there. It is— we both thought that it would be a kind of justice to give it to you. I'm sorry. You don't have to."

The tightnes in Celebrimbor's chest slowly dissipated. "No, I— I appreciate it, and it would make him so angry and that's good, just— could I maybe reorder it a little. Not much, just…."

He spoke softly, unsure if it was worse to ask Lord Aulë if he could change the designs of his Maia (well, back then), or to talk in private when he was nearby. but apparently it was not soft enough, as the Vala replied him.

"Of course. You can change anything you like. It's yours."

A few days of work later, when Aulë again returned to his forge, he looked at Celebrimbor's workbench—now not as perfectly symmetrical, and carved in rows of Dwarven runes.

He smiled. "It looks alive. I missed it."

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

I wrote orv fanfic instead of studying for my final exam yayyyy

Description:

Kim Dokja, adopted son of Hades and Persephone, and an official Demon King, is on the run from his own parents... and the entire underworld.

They mostly let him play, but if he slips up then it's back to the underworld with him. Join him and his adventures in the Empire, whose prince is extremely handsome and popular, and also incredibly irritated at the magic wielding pretty-boy that is stirring up trouble with his very presence. Traveling scholar his ass, this guy is just a pain in one! And why is everyone that joins his group incredibly loyal?

Kim Dokja, adopted son, might have accidentally started adopting some children of his own. Now he's starting to get worried he won't be able to go anywhere without these people following his every move.

I'm going insane from sleep deprivation

Don't read this if you expect yjh to be there. He's for a later chapter. First we need a set up.

[loppiopio]

anatomy of a heart // open up

cardiogram.carrd.co

[yujeong]

Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)