#cute little weirdos

[territorial-utopia]

Oh hey look another wip from like, 2022 that I never shared 8,D So here's the next one in my animation study series where I try to copy a piece of animation I like (but use my own characters as the models instead)

Anyway, they're dumb, they're idiots, they're in love.

[yuanist]

kuroo, you think, has been out here for quite a while now. 

when you left to go meet with your study group—sometime between six-thirty and seven—the snow was just beginning to pile up. it hadn't started sticking to the roads yet, but you could see the vapor slip from the few leaves left on the trees; a symptom of early winter, you suppose. 

now, though, there must be four or five inches out here. the old oak tree that hangs over your building is starting to sag, and the moon seems heavier than it did before, hanging lowly along the glow of street light. 

kuroo is sitting on the steps up to your apartment, looking down at his phone. he has more than a few flakes in his hair, and if it wasn't for the ridge in the snow where he'd pushed it aside to sit, you'd think he'd been out here the whole time. 

"cold?" you ask, shuffling towards him. you can hear the crunch of your feet under you. 

"me? never."

he looks up at you then and, you'll admit, you like seeing him like this. lately, he's been against the whole 'text me before you come over' thing, and you know it's mostly because you don't reply, but, in part, that's so you can see him here. 

his hands are half-tucked under the sleeves of his coat, and there's a stretch of pink from the tops of his cheeks to the tip of his nose. his lips are chapped (you can only assume from being out here so often) and there's a little smile tugging at the sides of his mouth, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth. 

"oh, you want me to leave you out here then? give you a little more time?" you're smug—or, at least you're trying to be, anyway. the more time you spend with kuroo, the worse you are at pretending you don't like him. recently, you've been failing at that more than you'd care to admit. 

"hey, i didn't say that." he sinks his teeth into his lower lip. "plus, what's the point of coming all the way over here if i can't see my favorite girl?" 

you shake your head at him, aiming your chin towards the ground. in a strange way, you feel like you're suffocating.

"you mean the cat?" you ask.

and he chuckles, "sure." 

a beat of silence hangs in the air for a second, before you plod your way up the steps, pulling your keys out of your pocket. you can hear kuroo rise behind you, attempting to brush some of the moisture out of his sleeves. 

"y'know," you say, pushing the key into the door. "if you like coming over when i'm not home so much, i could tell the neighbor to let you in." 

his hood rustles; he's shaking his head. 

"where's the fun in that? kinda ruins my whole 'mysterious stranger' act." 

"also kinda ruins the 'guy stalking the apartment complex' act." you swing the door open and make your way up the stairs. "i'm sure everyone is so enthused by the guy sitting on the stairs every friday." 

a laugh, "oh i'm sure. if they report me for loitering promise you'll come bail me out?" 

"depends on how much i like you that day." you can feel the heat of your apartment as you approach the end of the hall. 

"really," he says. "if they took me in right now?" 

"i would think about it." you pause. "maybe." 

"wow." you can hear the rasp in his voice as he drags out the 'o.' "tough crowd." 

your apartment smells like pine and vanilla—the workings of two little wax melters on opposite sides of the rooms. you turned them off before you left (you double and triple-checked), but the scent lingers, itching at your nose as you cross through the door. 

kuroo follows close behind, scaping his shoes off on the mat before slipping them onto the little shoe rack in the corner. his jacket squeaks as he shrugs it off—a sound so distinctly made from the shifting of wet nylon that you barely have to turn around to identify it. 

every time he follows you up here, you find yourself glancing around your apartment—looking for something that could possibly be out of place. something incriminating: three-day-old dishes that you know you already washed; your vibrator, forgotten on the nightstand, even though you remember putting it back in its designated drawer. 

for some reason, you have a tendency to think that the things around your home that make you distinctly human are also the things that would make you distinctly unappealing. you're aware of how silly the thought is, but there you are, quickly looking over at your nightstand as you stick your coat back in the closet. 

"so," you hum, rubbing a bit of the warmth back into your hands. "to what do i owe the pleasure tonight? you here to eat all of my leftovers again?" 

"depends," he says. "you have leftovers to be eaten?" 

"not this time." you make your way to the couch, and he pouts, following behind you. "but if i did, they'd be all yours." 

"aw, you mean it?" you eye him. "i'm honored." 

as much as you hate to admit it, this has sort of become habit. you come home a little later than expected and you find kuroo sitting on your front stoop. you're not exactly sure how any of it started—or, really, how the two of you became friends in the first place—but you ran in the same circles for a while and, eventually, you ended up here. 

"well," he begins, slinging his arm over the back of the couch. "study group?" 

"boring." you nudge your way beneath his shoulder. "practice?"

"thrilling, obviously. greatest two hours of my life, even. i think you could go as far as to—" you eye him again. "same thing as yesterday." 

you chuckle, swatting a hand into his chest. 

there's silence for a moment, something warm pulling through the air of the room. quiet breaths spill from kuroo's lips, and you resign yourself to listening to each one—in, and out. 

he still smells cold; like the heavy, wet snow you have to shovel off of the porch the morning after a blizzard. for every breath, it lessens, bleeding into the heat of the room, but you let the scent linger at the base of your nose. 

you're not sure how much time you've spent taking in pieces of kuroo, but you know it's more than you ever plan to tell. you know his hands take longer to warm up than the rest of him—he chalks it up to bad circulation most of the time, you know that too; he rarely spends a night at home because he doesn't like sitting in silence; he twitches sometimes, when he's nervous, a little flick of his hands; his favorite color is red but sometimes he's drawn to deep blues because he likes the sky better when it's absent of stars—he says there's something enchanting about the abyss. 

he's too dense to know you're in love with him but too smart to think you're not. sometimes you catch him looking at you after you say something in a tone a little too far beyond friendly and you swear that he knows what you mean. sometimes, you think he's going to break the silence, and, sometimes, you think he never will. 

tonight, he swings his head back, eyes lightly shut, slowly sinking into the back of the couch. you can hear the sputter of your vents and the sound of the wind against the windows—snow still trying to fight its way through the glass.  

you're going to ask him to stay the night tonight—you already know it. you're going to wake up to him on the couch tomorrow, with his hair messed up, and his eyes half-lidded, and that stupid look on his face that makes you want to slip your tongue into his mouth. 

you're going to think about that time you slept together last year—once, after a halloween party—and you're going to think about the way the inside of his mouth tasted; you're going to sink your teeth into your lips so hard that you're going to bleed. 

you're going to consider telling him that you love him, that you always have and you think you always will, and then you're going to ask him if he wants coffee instead—hoping the smell of the pot is enough to make your head feel less fuzzy. 

you're going to wait, and hope he says something, even though you'll know he never does. and then, next friday, when you come home to him sitting on your front steps, you're going to do it all again. 

reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[junespriince]

Little Chickadee meet little Sparkle au

8yo Dick, picks up 3yo Wally: so this baby kid flash?

Barry: yeah, this is apparently him at three years old according to Iris.

Dick, looks at the tiny boy in his arms: and his dad hated him!? Adults are useless.

Bruce, sighed: can't wait for Constantine and zatanna to fix this... Alfred where's the leash? *Leaves*

Dick, gives Barry, Wally back: I will make sure nobody hurts him again.

Barry: aw, that's so sweet of you.

A few hours later

Bruce: I told you to watch him, how could you let him get away!?

Barry: he said he went to the bathroom, how was i supposed to know he would leave, the time I knew him he listened in Central!

Wally, fussy because people are yelling:

Bruce: where could he have gone to, all his usual hits are protected.

Barry: ... Oh my god, OH MY GOD HE'S AFTER RUDY!

Bruce: Rudy?

Barry, grabbing his things: Wally's shitty bio dad, he read Canary's file on Wally and asked me questions.

Bruce: AND YOU GAVE THEM TO HIM, FREELY!?

Barry: I'm sorry I forgot he was blood thirsty as a child, okay!

Jason, holding a now crying Wally: hush it dipshits, and he's like eight how far on foot could he have gone.

Tim: he knows about the zeta tubes.

Jason: oooo, yeah that mother fucker dead dead.

Cass: I also saw him grabbed Barry's phone and called up Iris.

Barry: SHIT MY WIFE GONNA GO TO PRISON! I GOTTA GO!

[lucienarcheron]

Ok but after seeing the Bambi post my brain can only picture Elain drunkingly licking Lucien on the face 😂

But you know it's happened at least once. Drunk Elain is my favorite to picture (and write hehe). I can easily picture them at the end of a fun night and Elain's curled up in Lucien's lap, giggling like crazy about their day. Her mouth is going a million miles a minute and she's squishing Lucien's cheeks as she's talking because she's so excited about god knows what and he is so amused and in love, just letting her go off.

Until the conversation is suddenly about desserts and she's thinking about baking a cake tomorrow and —

Elain gasps suddenly and Lucien's brows go up, "What is it, dove?"

"I don't know if I have all the ingredients to make the frosting I like!"

His lips twitched and leans in to quickly peck her lips. "That's alright, I'll buy whatever you need tomorrow morning."

"But what flavor cake should I go for? I'm thinking chocolate but what about strawberry? Ohhh, what if I make red velvet!" She gasps again. "Lucien!"

"Elain."

"What if I make a Lucien flavored cake?" she asked with a coy smile that was more of a twitchy-drunk smile and Lucien tried so very hard not to laugh.

"And what flavor would I be, dare I ask?"

Her expression was mischievous and before Lucien could stop whatever drunk shenanigan she wanted to do, her tongue darted out and quickly licked his face.

Lucien barely made a noise of objection when Elain squished his face again and rested her forehead to his, staring intensely into his eyes. He blinked rapidly as she said in all seriousness, "Carrot?"

His expression flattened. "How dare you."

She burst into giggles at Lucien's outraged expression and Elain tried to make it up to him by peppering his face with kisses then licked his cheek once more, for good measure. "Cinnamon? Pumpkin Spice? Ohhh — how about caramel?"

"I think you need to stop, dove."

"Apple cranberry?"

"Elain."

"Maple?"

"Not the kind of sticky I usually go for."

She ignored him and gasped dramatically again, "Gingersnaps."

Lucien's lips twitched as he gave her a playfully reprimanding look. "It seems I need to remind you exactly what I taste like, my love."

Elain bit her lip, her cheeks already tinted pink from how hammered she was and she hiccuped. "Oh? And what do I need to bake to find your flavor?"

His smirk was roguish as he cupped his mate's face and kissed her lips slowly, reverently earning him a soft whine before Lucien pulled back and said, his voice filled with wicked promise, "No baking required. All you need is your pretty, pretty mouth."

[moe-broey]

6/14 • Day 6 • Meet the Heroes

Princess Training?

Decided to clean up this sketch! I wasn't entirely satisfied w it when I drew it, but eh... it's all I have LMFAOOO 🧍

Some additional sketches! First one I was testing out/playing w casual outfits, second one I just really wanted to draw the active wear so I went w that LMFAO

Also made slight changes to Céline's active wear palette, cause like.... they did her so dirty........

Like even the canonish one doesn't follow canon, they just picked the worst palest yellow for her 😔

@sharenaweek

[sillywoyscreenshots]

what a freak , who tf puts thier shoes instead of his clothes???

.

[minijenn]

Just realized I hardly ever post photos of my cats on here anymore so let’s fix that starting with my stupid fucking infant idiot baby Zelda:

[spnintheyearofourlord]

I know in my heart Sam and Jess bullied each other so hard

[nanaten]

if i was to post a very edgy enemies AND lovers clausten au what would you do?? hypothetically

[musubiki]

tiny limochi appriciation

[bmpmp3]

vocal synths and winter designs

[jacqcrisis]

This is absolutely the kind of get-up Alfonso would've worn in the ring as "The Face-Breaker". Just playing up that cruel, evil orc stereotype before he rocked some dude's shit as the crowd jeered and booed at their favorite up-and-coming heel.

Sometimes with his late tag-team partner, Cody Half-Roads, who finally made an appearance:

This is gunna get real weird when the Emperor starts trying to flirt with dear Al, I tell you what.

[sparkles-and-trash]

Watching Twilight in gloomy weather, life is good

[autizmotbh]

MY NEW OC!!! DELICIOUS GREEN SECURITY WORKER FROM OUTER SPACE!!! INTIRELY NON THREATENING!!! DEFFINETLY NOT DOING SOME WEIRD SHIT BEHIND THE S- cenes!

(he will be one of the characters ppl can attack on artfight sooo...)

[ningtual]

oh i'm gonna be so annoying about this album..... i even took notes while listening to this just now...

[cuntmongrel]

fairy whose the size of their human partner’s dick and humps/grinds on it while making out with the tip to get them both off