#goind to melt

[oobbbear]

While on the topic of lovely bat ladies, I just wanted to let you know oobbbear that as an artist you are incredibly fun and talented, you are awesome and have such a bouncy personality and it reflects in your art and the way you sketch.

Soft round shapes mixed in with dynamic poses in with different angles and perspectives of environmental storytelling. When you design a character (as tough as it may be at times) you don't just make a placeholder for a trope or a role, you make that character meld into its surroundings. You can see the different little tell tale aspects of why, who, what that character is. From small flowers and jewelry pieces in the vampires hair

To the shape language utilized in making them look fluffy but still lithe and dangerous.

You, my friend, are awesome. Not just as a creator. But as a person too. Please make sure to take care of yourself, your health and well-being is more important than anything.

With that being said:

- 🐐 Anon

Thank you Goat anon you don’t understand how much these words mean to me I literally screamed I made my art teacher proud in my empty room osbksbidbdjb oh uahhhhhh jdidnnodnrijudb I- aaaaaaaaaaa💖💘💝💞💘💖💕💘💗💘💕💝💖🦀💘💞💖🦇🦇🦇💖💞

YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOO REMEMBER TO EAT DRINK AND SLEEP!!!!!!!!

[projectthesinner]

happy 4:20 am, im goind to go melt

hal will be posted in the afternoon probably

[fortunetellsrp]

xwolfbonds‌:

The rumble of thunder echoes through the cave, they settled into for the night. The flames of the campfire flicker and waver, dancing across the stone surface of the stone floor, threatening to plunge their campsite in choking darkness. Talon stands, the white fur of his wolf form melting away, revealing a fresh coat of cold sweat that settles against his naked flesh. There is a look in his eyes, a rush of adrenaline of excitement from his hunt.

He follows his nose to the sweet scent of something in the back of the cave. The smell of sweet honey and crushed pine needles wafted from the sleeping body nestled under a collection of thick furs and heavy blankets. The white pelt of a bear hangs loosely along Alistair’s waist, the hungry eyes of the inquisitor trace along the wide curve of his biceps, across the vast plains of a broad chest and down the valley of his abs.

Since the day he had met Alistair, the man had invoked a strange hunger within him.  A need sense of desire, an almost disturbing need that clawed at his rational side of him. At that part of him, that was human. His masters have installed a sense of shame in him for wanting another man. He was a source of untapped magic, the only one their pet dragon would respond to and therefore needed to be kept pure, unmarred by the desires that anchor one to this world.

But they weren’t here, and from what Talon had learned about Alistair and his Warden within the five days they had been traveling together, there should be no shame. He falls to the ground on his hands and knees, fingers grasping at loose bits of stone as he crosses the distance between them. The pelt feels warm against his back as he slips beneath the fur. Alistair may hate him after this, but the urge was too strong, the need to heavy. He needs to know the taste of the man that stirred his heart to feel the weight of that heavy cock against his tongue. He breathes warming against Alistair flesh; a low quieted growl falling from trembling lips as the tip of his tongue traces the large vein on the underside of the king’s cock before licking at the tip.

He was surprised to feel Alistair begin to thicken under the tease of his tongue, even more so when he felt a hand brush against his hair as his lips around the head dragging slowly over the smooth length inch by inch. As he pulls his head back up, Talon wraps his hand around the base pumping his hand up and down, twisting his wrist with every upward stroke chasing after the slow drag of his lips.

Alistair was tired from the travel, it had been a while since he’d ridden off into the night with a mysterious mage in tow. In the days it took them to get there he’d found himself drawn more and more to Talon, ending up sharing maybe too much about himself, about the warden.

He wasn’t sure how to speak of it, truthfully, he never expected to feel the way he did for the man. He’d been ashamed, then worrried, then he had to deal with the whole Blight, and then he was a king. He didn’t usually have time to comment on their relationship with people who didn’t know about it, or had never even met the man. 

One good thing about it was that in that time he had also gotten to know Talon, he’d watched him as they travelled. The way he acted, the way he talked. How he fought when they encountered some enemy. The way he’d get sometimes, when Alistair talked about the warden, the little growls he started to associate with the man’s wolf form.

He was more comfortable around him now, sleeping in the same tent, trusting him to scout at night. Relaxed enough not to wake when hands were felt on his body, pulling away at the pelt that covered him. A mouth felt at the most private of places, for a second he imagined he was ten years younger but reality didn’t let the thought stick, his hand goind down and finding hair that was cut too short. Cock hardening anyway, he let out a sight, not opening his eyes as he was taken slowly from slumber. Hips thrusting up as he caressed the hair beneath his fingers.

It was dark and hot in the cave, and Alistair was helpless to resist the warm lure of the mouth around him, chasing it half unaware of what he was doing. He muttered something aloud, maybe a request, something to do with his balls he was sure. He would be ashamed if he was more conscious, but in this half-asleep state he just wanted more.