#coloring has always been a struggle for me

[villiedoom]

New Kotie model I'm working on!

*Koties are fantasy/fictional felines from my personal story/lore.

It includes the skeleton, muscles, and the whole Kotie in flesh and skin, which is based on them. I used the northern Kotie as a model this time, so this one has some large paws :)

~ Made in Blender.

This definitely took a lot more time and effort than the simpler method with just sculpting all the muscles (like I did in all my previous models; link to my previous Kotie model), and shrinkwrapping the skin to the muscles was really a challenge for both me and blender (maybe there are easier ways to do this, but I worked intuitively from my crazy idea, just as I always do). But it was also very interesting!

Each bone and muscle are created as separate models (most muscles are made with curves, then sculpted a bit), which gave me the opportunity to study each of them (and to desperately search for detailed references). I did not model the internal muscles however.

The anatomy is rough and simplified in some details, and attaching all this to even the basic armature turned out to be too extreme, so not all poses work well. But it is already a great reference for the Kotie anatomy! I'm happy with the result, and modeling all this gave me some more insight into the realistic proportions and shapes of the Koties, which I have been struggling with since the very beginning of drawing and modeling them.

The final sculp is not finished yet; it needs a lot more work and has no textures at all for now, I just quickly painted some colors with Vertex Paint, to make the character feel more alive.

[mas-o-kissed]

(Weight gain, kidnapping, teasing, bondage, noncon— the weight gain is nonconsensual but the rogue is super into it, as is the villain. This is the first time I’ve written something of this subject quite so in depth. So. 🫣

Story about a villain tying up a rogue and giving him a weight gain potion. Was going to be short but I got carried away lol. Focus a lot on the sensations of the weight gain and body contrast.)

The rogue pulls against his bindings. He can feel them give. What a fool, he thinks, As if I couldn’t get out of this.

“Oh dear, are those too loose?” The villain approaches from behind, his voice dripping with condescension. “Let’s get this a little more snug.”

It doesn’t matter, the rogue thinks. If he tightens it I’ll just tense up and wiggle my way out when his back is turned.

But the villain isn’t tightening the bindings. He’s not even touching him. Instead, he grabs a bottle from the shelf. The liquid is a rich golden color. It emanates a soft glow. “Here we are,” he says, turning toward the rogue. “Open.”

The rogue turns his head in disgust, but the villain grabs his face firmly, squeezing his cheeks between his fingers so his lips are pursed open. As the rogue struggles and spits, the villain forces the liquid down his throat. When the rogue has choked down a few drops, he releases his face, leaving him to cough and pant.

“What the hell was that?” The rogue yells after him, trying to spit what he can onto the ground. A warm, weighty sensation spreads through his body. Something is happening to him. He has to escape.

It’s too late, though. As the rogue pulls up in the chair he feels the binds tightening around him. He didn’t even touch the rope. What’s going on?

“Have you figured it out yet?” The villain is regarding him with amusement. He struggles against the ropes, trying to work his way out of the bindings as he has so many times before. But it’s like they’re shrinking, growing tighter by the second.

Growing.

His body feels strange. As he tries to untangle his legs, his thighs rub together. How is that possible? They weren’t even touching before.

But tied up as he is, he can’t pull them apart now. They push up against each other, softer, thicker than they had been moments before. And fuck, it’s turning him on.

But as he looks down at them, trying to make sense of his body, his belly begins to soften as well. He’d always maintained a slim physique, but now his belly begins to stretch, the rope digging tightly into his growing body.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“What did you do?!” His own voice sounds so pathetic, so desperate, he can hardly blame the villain for laughing at him.

“You’ve always been so light on your feet, haven’t you?” The villain teases.

It was his job to be sly and silent, to slip by unnoticed. That was why he’d always maintained a strict diet, a tight exercise regimen. Could he do his job as he was now? Sure, but it would be hard. He would have to relearn everything to accommodate new weight, new mass.

His clothes begin to tear around his growing body. With a pop of a button, his belly bursts out of his pants. He looks down at his body. His fat belly over fat thighs, ropes digging tight around him. He could have escaped so easily just minutes ago, but now he can’t move an inch. When he tries to tug again, he can’t suppress the moan that escapes his mouth.

“Oh, are you enjoying this?”

Is he? His face is red with shame.

Why does it feel so good? Is this more of the magic, more of the villain’s trickery?

His body feels so different. So heavy and warm and good. He can feel his belly bounce when he struggles, his thighs jiggle when he tries to move. The ropes are tight around his arms, his big arms, and even his face feels softer. His sense of his body feels so new. So hot. It gives him chills to think of how he must look now.

Provocative.

“Ah— no—!” As he swells the ropes grow tighter. Too tight. He looks up at the villain, pathetic, tears welling in his eyes, “Please untie me. I won’t run away. Please. It’s too tight.”

The villain approaches his captive, lips parted, face red. His breathing is picking up. The rogue winces as the villain runs his trembling hands over his new body. “You look so good like this...” The villain breathes.

“P-please. So tight. It hurts.”

The villain draws a knife from the belt at his side. He traces it along the rogue’s thigh, his belly, finally ending at his chest. He cuts the rope.

The rope loosens and falls away as the rogue wrestles free. It leaves indents in his skin. He pushes the villain aside, rushing for the door. If he’s quick, he can make it out— but as he gets up, he stumbles forward, falling to the ground. His center of gravity has completely changed, and to make it worse, his movements are still restricted by his tight, torn clothes.

He has no idea how to use this body.

“Won’t run away, huh?” Says the villain, pushing himself up. “I suppose I can’t blame you for trying.”

The rogue groans. He rubs his hands over his body for the first time. His shirt rides up on his round belly, leaving it completely exposed. He has never taken up so much space. Even his ass— he can’t help but feel it— has grown thick and round.

The villain wraps his arms around him from behind, grabbing his belly. “How does it feel, hm?”

The rogue whimpers.

“It’s all over your face,” the villain teases into his ear, “so tell me, what does it feel like?” He squeezes his belly, jiggling the weight between his hands.

The sensation is entirely new. So heavy. So…

“Good…” the rogue can’t stop the words as they fall from his mouth. “It feels good.”

“It feels good to be big for me.”

“W-what are you doing?”

“Say it.” The villains hands are all over him now, grabbing all those new curves.

“It feels good… to be big for you.” He can barely believe he’s saying it, the words gasped from between his lips. But it’s true.

The villain pulls him over, lays him onto the ground so the rogue is on his back, looking up at him.

Normally, his belly would be sinking slightly into him, concave. But now it curves outwards, decadently round, rising and falling with his breaths.

The villain pinches his inner thighs through the tears in his pants. “We’ll need to get you some new clothes,” he says, tracing his fingers along the ripped fabric. “I wonder what size you are, now.”

“You’ll change me back, won’t you?”

The villain slides his fingers along his stomach. As if in response, he bites the rogue’s fat tummy. Not hard, not enough to hurt, but enough to make the rogue let out a loud moan. “The potion responds to arousal. It wears off in a few hours… as long as you can contain yourself…” His hands drift to between the rogue’s legs. “But I don’t think you’ll be able to do that…”

The rogue whimpers. He’s going to have to get used to this body. He has no choice.

[fortunekookie07]

hii can i request a highschool au, where sylus is the scary but popular jock x nerdy/normal reader😫 thank you!!

Not Just The Girl Next Door

Nonnie, I absolutely adore your request. Because you brought it to me. Thank you sooooo much for trusting me to craft your desire. Love you for it.

I am immensely sorry it took so long. I hope I haven't disappointed you. I struggled with this one a bit, and not because your request was hard, I didn't want to deliver a cliché. I rewrote this one a couple times. If you want to see the unfished alternate, let me know.

****************************************************

Sylus, how could one name make your heart feel full of giddines? Put those butterflies in your stomach and make your brain mush?

He'd been your classmate since preschool. He even lived on your street. How could one person be so close and yet so far out of reach?

You never minded his teasing, he'd never taken it too far. After all, it was to be expected. Many times, you'd examined yourself just to count all the things you saw as flaws.

Unruly wild red curls hung around your face and trailed over your shoulders all the way down your back to your hips. Your mother absolutely loved your hair. You'd lost count of how many times she'd begged you not to cut or change the color.

The round glasses perched on your nose framed your face nicely, but you hated their necessity. If only you'd gotten your mother's perfect vision. You had yet to win the debate on trying contacrs.

If only you were taller, being the shortest one in the senior class was irritating. People often mistook you as a freshman and sometimes you knew it was on purpose.

Sylus had been the one to start the jokes. While the rest of your classmates were getting taller, you didn't. The only thing that has grown was your curves. Your mom liked to say that you had the perfect hourglass figure. One that you worked hard to hide. Being teased for having no boobs as opposed to being well-endowed was much better.

It was easy to hide with the schools mandatory uniform. Button up white collared shirts, a sweater vest in dark blue or gold. For the girls, a pleated plaid skirt in the same colors. The boys could wear black or dark blue pants. During the winter months, a black jacket could be worn.

As you stood in front of the mirror, examining your appearance, you could hear your mother calling you from downstairs. "Are you ready yet? You need to be leaving now!" You scrambled to shove your feet into shoes while trying to smooth your hair back so you could braid it. "I'm coming, mom!" You shouted back to her, tying the end of the briaid and scooping up your bag.

"Have a good day." She said, kissing your forehead and then pushing you out the door. It was windy today. Spring was just around the corner. Hurrying to your car, you quickly started the engine just as your phone rang. It was Tara.

"Hey girl!" She answered with her usual bubbliness. "Can you pick me up? My dad confiscated my keys this morning." You knew instantly that she had a story and had gotten into trouble again. "Yeah, I'll be there in three minutes." Her sigh of relief had you shaking your head.

Tara was extremely outgoing and well liked. It was a miracle that she had picked you, the quiet introverted girl with her nose always in a book as best friend. But that had been the case from the first grade till now. She tended to get into trouble with her dad a lot. He was always trying to calm her down and teach her patience. He wasn't mean, just very strict. Sometimes, he would compare the two of you. About how well-behaved you were and your much quieter nature.

She really tried sometimes to play the role he wanted, but it was hard. It was her nature to be loud, rowdy, and very outgoing. Maybe this was why you were friends. You balanced each other out.

Fifteen minutes later, you were settled into your first period English class waiting for the teacher. He was running late as usual. He had a knack for being perpetually late. Around you, you could hear whispers and the scratches of pens as people scrambled to do the homework from last class.

Ever the one prepared for class, your books and notebook sate neatly on your desk. No one was paying you any mind. Too focused on their own affairs. Well, you thought no one was watching you. How wrong you were.

"Well now, look here. The little Kitten is all ready for class." His deep baritone voice sent shivers down your spine. Sylus hadn't used your actual name in years. Ever since the day he'd dubbed you Kitten, that's all he would call you.

He swooped in and grabbed your notebook. Dodging your hands as you scrambled to get it back. "Give it back." You said, trying to remain calm. Getting angry or showing your frustration only spurred him on.

"Then jump for it." He said a smirk on his face as he held the notebook high in the air well over his head. He knew you couldn't get it. Your short stature would never allow it. What he didn't count on was your resourcefulness. Or the fact that you were agile.

Swiftly, you stood from your seat and climbed onto your desk. Anger fueling your actions. You jumped for it, fingers just barely brushing the spine as he changed the way he was holding it.

Forgetting yourself and where you were, you lunged, throwing your full weight at him as you jumped higher. This time, you managed to grasp your notebook. It would seem your mom's insistence on dance classes was not useless.

Sylus stumbled as your full weight pushed him back. He clearly wasn't expecting you to throw yourself at him for the notebook.

"What's going on in here?" The sharp voice of Mr. Reynolds snapped you back to reality. The position you were now in was clearly inappropriate for a classroom. Your body was firmly pressed against Sylus. His hand pressed firmly against your waist. He was practically laying on the desk with you on top of him. Still holding the notebook with your hand tightly grasping it as well.

The look in his eyes was a mixture of surprise, amusement, and something you couldn't quite name.

Mr. Reynolds sharply called your name, and you scrambled back to standing. Face bright red with embarrassment. How you wished the floor would swallow you whole. This had to top any embarrassing moment you'd ever had in your eighteen years on this Earth.

Seeing how mortified you were, Mr. Reynolds turned to Sylus. "Explain yourself right now!" He was angry, face turning red as he glared.

"Just having a bit of fun. Just a joke." Sylus said nonchalantly. His ears were slightly red. Was he embarrassed, too? "Detention, both of you, go right now." He pointed to the door, shaking his finger as he did so. "I do not allow such nonsense in my classroom. If I ever see this level of disregard for school decorum again, I'll have you both expelled. I don't care if you are the star player or the top academic student. I'll not have it!"

Snatching your notebook from Sylus' hand, you scooped up your books and walked to the door, footsteps heavy with dread. Never, not once in all your years of school had you been in trouble. A teacher had never reprimanded you before, never mind yelling at you.

Your eyes burner with unshed tears. This was all his fault. You tried hard not to cry. You would not let him of all people see you shed a tear. A quick glance beside you, he looked completely unphased. How could he be so calm right now?? Anger took over.

"This is all your fault. Why can't you just leave me alone? I'm not a toy for your amusement. I do not exist to entertain you when you're bored." You chest heaved as you finally said what you'd always wanted to. "See me, Sylus. I am not your Kitten. I'm a person." Despite your best efforts you were crying now.

Tears slipping down your face as you finally told him all the things you'd wanted to say for years. You'd stopped walking, and so had he. His face had a broken expression as he stood there helpless while you cried. "See me." You said in a begging tone.

He stepped closer to you, gently pulling your glasses from your face. Using his sleeve, he wiped the tears even as they continued to fall.

He stared down at your face, puffy from crying, nose red. Cupping your cheeks as he looked down at you. You couldn't name the expression in his eyes. It tore at your heart.

How much you wanted something you were sure you couldn't have. Sylus could pick any girl he wanted, so why would he choose you? The small girl, the one who was always studying. Who didn't wear makeup or pretty jewelry. The one who hid herself away instead of showing off what she had. Why would he choose you? With a heart of gold, a fierce loyalty to the few friends you have and a deep love of your family.

Still wiping your tears away with his thumbs, he finally speaks. "Silly girl, why are you so silly? I've always seen you. How can I not see you?" His expression was tender gazing at you like he held the most precious thing in the world.

"You always make fun of me. You're always calling me short and teasing me for never handing in assignments late. For always being top of the class. You called me four eyes in primary school. You pull my hair and hide my books." You sniffle loudly, finally your tears have stopped.

He sighs loudly, breaking eye contact as he hangs his head. "For someone so smart, you're incredibly dense. I hope you know that." He looks at you again. "Have you never heard that a guy will pick on the girl he likes? I don't know how else to get your attention. You're not like other girls. You don't follow after me. You never talk to me unless I start. I've never seen you at any of my games. Tell me how I'm supposed to bring you back to my level?"

He's looking at you earnestly now, but your brain has disconnected. Surely he didn't mean that he liked you. You must have misheard him. "Wh-what did you say?" You stutter out after a minute of silence.

Sylus sighs deeply again. "Words have no effect, I see." He tilts your face upwards more, and before you can react, his warm lips steal yours. If your brain was disconnected before, it's completely offline and mush now. Unable to think of anything, slowly, your hands come up to grasp the lapels of his jacket, crushing them in your grip.

You stand on your toes so he doesn't have to lean down so far. In the back of your head, you're glad he took your glasses off. The lenses would be fogged up now. Pressing yourself closer, you give in. Your lungs are starting to beg for air, but you never want this moment to end.

But end it does, he pulls back, and you stare deeply into his red irises. The depth of his emotions is swirling around, trying to pull you in.

"Do you understand me now?" He asks quietly, watching you intently.

"Why me?" You mumble quietly. "Why not you? I've always been drawn to you. Ever since we were kids. You're like a flame that burns just for me. I don't want to be apart from you anymore. Don't pull away from me now." His voice is not more than a whisper, but it still pierces your heart.

The sincerity in his voice sends you over the edge. Your face burns red again, and you hide it in his jacket. "Is this going to be a habit of yours?" He asks, chuckling as he wraps his arms around you. "Shut up." You mutter against his chest. "We're still in trouble and have detention." He comments, and you freeze. You'd forgotten that detail.

"I'm still mad at you for that." You say stepping back. He grasps your hand and leads you to the office laughing.

****************************************************

I'm so sorry again for the long wait. I hope you get all the fluffy feels out of this that I tried to pack in.

If you want to read my original draft, message me. If you want to take a different route and finish the one I started, I will relinquish it. Just let me know.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

⋆.˚ ⚡︎ 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝘼 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚 ⚡︎ ˚.⋆

Chapter 20: Spill The Acid (Preview / Spoiler / Teaser)

⟢ Danny Phantom Phan Fic • Genre: Angst — Hurt/Comfort • TW: Emotional Distress — Strong Language — Graphic Content • M rate (+16!) • AU — OOC

⟢ Full Story: Ao3 ⟡ FFN

New (temporary) Summary!: Scarred inside and out, Danny struggles with a new reality he has to cope with. What will happen to him? And why?

♫ ▸ I need a gangsta, to love me better than all the others do, to always forgive me, ride or die with me, that's just what gangsters do. —Kehlani

…

Tears streamed freely down his face, cold and crystal as ice, soaking his cheeks as his voice cracked under the weight of his confessions. His breaths were uneven, hitching between sobs.

Every memory, every wound, every betrayal burned fresh in his mind as he spoke, his words tumbling out without care for how they sounded.

When he finally stopped, the silence in the room was deafening. He raised a trembling hand, swiping at his tear-streaked face with the sleeve of his hoodie, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. He felt raw, exposed, like his very soul had been laid bare for •ㄨ✘✗ﾒ✗• to see.

Danny glanced up, expecting to see •ㄨ✘✗ﾒ✗• usual smirk, but what he saw instead froze him. •ㄨ✘✗ﾒ✗• grin had shifted into something else entirely—something… curious, yet tinged with pity. It was weird. What the fxck? Danny had never seen •ㄨ✘✗ﾒ✗• look like this before.

…

⟢ I wrote a few more chapters already too, so if you want to follow along—stay tuned!

⟢ I’m still learning ambient lighting… I don’t use it often so… and I still hate drawings hands (: I mean, I’m still learning everyday at drawing and coloring!

[lunaandco]

anatomy studies; part one

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: vic needs a model. pedri is very quick to offer his help, even if her brother does not approve.

taglist: @htpssgavi ; @joaosnovia

masterlist // series masterlist // I do not take requests

Pedri ignored the conversation he was supposed to be having with Ferran just to stare at Victoria Casadó. She was currently arguing with her older brother about something, both of them standing a bit apart from the group. It was moments like this that Pedri could take advantage of, in order to avoid setting off Marc's protective instincts, that made it almost impossible for a guy to approach her.

Vic was a pretty girl, with long silky hair, the same colour as her brother—although she was not balding like he was. She was also a third year art student, so it wasn't uncommon for Marc to have to skip a boys night out because she had forced him to model for her.

Pedri would never understand why Marc complained so much about it, he would do anything to be looked at by Vic in any capacity.

"Stop staring," Ferrran said, not even looking at where his friend's gaze had been lost. "Marc is going to catch you and you're a shit liar. Everyone already knows you want to smash his sister, he won't take long to realise soon, too."

Pedri blushed furiously.

"I wasn't..." he protested. "I do not..."

"See? You suck at lying."

Ferran had that shit eating grin he only displayed when he knew Pedri could not argue with his teasing.

"Do you know what they are arguing about?" Pedrihad been caught in the traffic on his way to Lewandowski's house, and he had missed the beginning of the hangout.

"Vic needs an nude model for her next assignment and she does not want to use Marc."

"Why?" he asked. "She always uses Marc when she has to draw men."

"Exactly because of that. She needs a bit of variety. And, well, she's supposed to do a slghtly erotic piece. You might understand why she doesn not want her older brother to be the model."

Pedri blushed again.

"Then who..."

"She wanted to ask today if any of us would be down for it, but Marc doesn't—"

"Want any footballer getting any ideas," finished Pedri. It was too late for Marc. Pedri had already gotten many ideas.

He strolled around the garden, casually aproaching the siblings, pretending it was a total coincidence to meet them at that point.

"Hey, how are you two?" he asked, making eye contact with Vic. She smiled shyly.

"Actually, not too well, my brother is being annoying," she told him.

"Older brothers," Pedri sympathised with her struggle, dramatically rolling his eyes. "It's like they only know how to be annoying. What are you tormenting the poor girl with, Casa?"

"He doesn't want me to draw any of you," she puted, her honey colored eyes looking at him through her lashes. "But it's so boring to always paint him..."

"I can be your model," he offered, smiling. "Casa here knows how trustworhty I am, right?"

"Well, yes, but..."

Vic's squeal of happiness interrupted Marc's complaints.

"Thank you, Pedri!" she said, throwing her hands around his neck in a hug.

"But it's supposed to be nude!" protested Marc. Pedri winked at him.

"Don't worry. i'll take good care of her, I promise."

Marc clenched his jaw, but even he knew not to make a scene about somehting like this in Lewandowski's garden, with all the team and families around them. Meanwhile, Pedri enjoyed the warmth of Vic's body pressed against him for the duration of the hug, being exactly as interested on her as Marc feared.

💙❤️

Should I shave beforehand?

Pedri texted. Marc had refused to let him get Vic's number, but had allowed him to follow her on her private Insta, which meant he had now access to a couple of pictures o her. He might have put one of those as his lockscreen.

No. Vic replied. I actually would rather you had a little bit of hair. You know, to practice the shading.

Because of that Pedri left his chest hair alone, He made the trip to the Casadó's househould, his heart beating fast and his legs weaker than after a Champions League game.

Marc opened the front door for him. Pedri's heart dropped. He should have known that he would insist on not leaving then alone for the duration of the session.

"Marquito stop being so paranoid," Vic complaned when she saw that her brother was following Pedri inside of her room. "I'm not a Victorian maiden and he is not going to take away my virtue or some shit," she said. "Get lost or I'll tell mom you're sneaking your girlfriend at night. See what happens then."

Marc grumbled, but the thrat landed true, and he retreated slowly.

"I'm sorry for my brother, he just worrues one of you will break my heart or somehting."

"I can tell. HE cares a lot about you," Pedri said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"it gets asphixiating," Vic concluded. "I... I'm sorry, we can stop this if you're uncomfortable."

"Don't worry about it," Pedri said, but he was sweating nervously. What if Vic didn't like his body?

"I need you to take your clothes off," she explained. "All of them. You can lay on the bed if you want."

Pedri gulped, but took off his hoodie first, and then his pants. Vic had turned her back on him, giving him a modicum of privacy, while she sorted out her materials. Once he was completely nude, he sat on the soft bed.

Pedri felt like he was going to hell. He was laying in his crush's bed, completely naked and surrounded by her scent, something between oil paint and tulips, but he coukd not let her know how much it excited him.

Thinking of this moment, Pedri had not considered the possibility of getting a boner, but as Vic finally turned, he found himself beging his dick to cooperate.

"Is this alright?" he asked, acomodating his back against the pillow.

"Yes." Vic said. "But I need you to bend your leg... no the other one. That's it."

The arms were more complicated. Pedri did not understand Vic's directions, and she ended up having to swallow up he rshyness and move them exactly whener she wanted. Pedri pretended as if his skin wasn't crawling at hte thought of her touching him.

"If you're cold or need a break just tell me," Vic indicated as she finally settled on her desk and grabbed her sketchbook. "I'll be as quick as I can."

💙❤️

Pedri wasn't sure how long it took. Marc went into the room at least five times, with the excuse of bringing water and snacks, but Pedri knew he was just checking that nothing he didn't approve of happened.

The sunlight was gone and Vic was cracking her back.

"We're done," she said, standing up. "Here, she gave him the finished drawing, which made Pedri blush. He looked sexy. the body he had always considered too skinny, too bony to be actually atractive on its own, without the addded perk of his footballng ability, was now staring back at him, shaded in charcoal and looking as beautiful as ever.

"Thank you," he said. Even his dick, which had cooperated with him, thank God, looked pretty, nestled between his thighs. The hair she had told him not to shave reflected its coarse texture, even if Vic had not touched.

"I should be the one saying that," Vic joked awkwardly. "Here, you can have the sketches."

She gave him some sheets in which he could also recognise himself, albeit less detailed and the traces lighter.

"I mean it," he insisted. "Thank you."

Vic's eyes slid down the curve of his shoulder. After two hours of being profoundly stared at, one woukd think Pedri would have gotten used to Victoria's eyes upon him, but he still shivered.

"Shit, I am so sorry, you must be freezing!" she said, leaping back and picking up his clothes for him. "I am so sorry," she repeated, "I'll leave you so you can dress properly.

Pedri opened his mouth to say something, but his voice got caught on his thoat as the door of the room closed behind Vic.

He dressed quicly, and grabbed the sketches Vic had gifted him again. In the corner, scribbled, there was a phone number and a note.

Don't tell Marc.

[ringaroundtheroses]

i need to draw more cubitos tbh...sighs and opens my inbox to those god awful art rqs my friend sent me- in completely related news if anyone other than that freaks wants to send me some rqs that would be very cool! heads up tho i do NOT color rqs bc i hate coloring 😭

[gomzdrawfr]

Bam bing bong, summary of my doodles in 2024

[skinnypaleangryperson]

Bojack Horseman is the last piece of media that I would have expected to have a consistently enduring fandom. It's pretty much non-existent on an average day on Tumblr, but it's obnoxiously popular on other forms of media daily, and it kind of feels like tumblr is dying out in most content anyway, and even on here there's still a decent amount of content that's posted daily that is decent enough for a piece of media that was canceled years ago and wasn't super popular or mainstream even when I was out. It impresses me daily, it's a good thing, since BoJack is the love of my life anyway and is boring as it is, really all that I need for the rest of my sad, lonely, pathetic life.

[lemongogo]

can i ask.how u guys practice ur creativity <3 how u practice ur imagination or like.. how u experiment with ur art, how u come to ideas and how u develop them.<3 pretty please <3

[devotedlystrangewizard]

the school arc to me is so good because it drags ciel out of his position as a powerful figure and literally places him in the shoes of the person he could have been. the circus arc ALSO drags him out of his position as big bad queens watch dog/head of the phantomhive estate but the school arc feels like a mockery of a future that never was. this is what he could have been had his parents not died. and even then its NOT because he will never be that kid.

he never was.

[marbirds]

Daisy and Cheshire for Mor! @asfodeltide

[bunnyboy-juice]

struggling very hard to feel connected to my femme identity and feeling big grief about that

[lillybean730]

so proud of the fact that ive been labeled as an eccentric by my brother, even though i don't feel *that* weird

[jackass-jones]

Honestly I’d say the main reason I haven’t been making much art for a while is cuz the actual process to start the task of making art is too overwhelming like why do it need so much preparation

[hauntingblue]

Skypiea time

Robin saying that because I know she only got on a ship to then leave it...

Nami sees Conis and gets sanji out of there so SHE can talk to her akdhksajka not a single second lost

Hello my favourite panel of nami maybe ever

Sillies...

CHOPPER YOU ARE THE CUTEST

Robin throws this guy off a cliff and to make just to make sure she breaks his neck too akdjsksk who is doing it like her???

OMG ACE!!!! IT IS TIME!!!!

[prickly-paprikash]

Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.

Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.

2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.

Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.

N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.

And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.

Drake is none of that.

He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.

Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.

2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.

N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.

50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.

Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.

I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.

Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.

@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.