#i LOOOOVED working on this

[imjustalazycat]

commission for the amazing @maiuoart

thank you SO MUCH for commissioning me! it was awesome working for an amazing artist like you ;;

also your characters are so lovely i loved drawing them <33

thank you for your support <33

[chalkrub]

new guyyy whom i love from a design trade

he's a demigod cimera knight who was brutally defeated and then spared by a tyrant queen, with the caveat that she cut off his goat head and uses it as a hostage to keep him loyal to her. unfortunate but what are you gonna do

[iotsketches]

truth is a shard of ice

[2isted-chocol8-art]

Yeah. Um. Can't explain myself on this one chat

-> More Outer Wilds Art!

[rascal-rose]

Being fr rn? Your version of evil Anton is genuinely kinda creepy to me (as of writing this)

I get the vibe that he'd start out as a sort of friendly, if off-putting, parallel to Anton that visits brulos occasionally (for non alcoholic drinks ofc)

Then he just kinda starts. Slowly creeping into anton's life until he's basically standing over Anton and Annie while they sleep, just. Watching.

I think it's the eyes. They look fucking Soulless to me./pos

now thats a dude I havent thought about in awhile

tbh kinda what I was going for with his vibe, dude that's so nice and patient in a city full of jerks that it becomes uncanny now that I've played the full game, I'm 100% steadfast in making evil anton just a Guy that's a lil jolly with it

^ hes just making sure they get a good rest

[deoidesign]

"what do hands mean about a character?"

Their hands mean they love eachother

(webcomic)

[blindmagdalena]

I know someone's already asked for the voice kink a couple times which I love your writing for those frfr but have you ever considered doing a hand kink prompt for homie? If I'm being real his hands are pretty

18+! 1.4k homelander x reader. finger sucking, vaginal fingering, grinding, dirty talk.

The first time you saw Homelander’s naked hands, the reveal left you feeling scandalized. His fingers are long and lithe, but not spindly. His nails are always clean–one positive thing you can say about those gloves–and nicely manicured into a rounded shape. 

Pronounced veins create sprawling patterns on the backs of them, disappearing into the spaces between his knuckles. His wrists are slender enough to look delicate, but the thrum of power in his touch proves they aren’t.

Suffice to say you’ve been obsessed with them ever since.

“Y’know, it takes real talent to make hand-holding feel perverse,” he says one day, one corner of his mouth arched in a lazy smile.

Days like this are your favorite. You’ve both been awake for hours, but getting out of bed hasn’t crossed your mind once. Not while you’re tucked in against him, his arm around your body, his hand cupped between yours.

His hands have been at the mercy of your reverence for the majority of the morning.

“What’s perverse?” you ask with a laugh, absently sliding your fingertips up and down the space between his fingers, your touch light and slow.

“You are,” he says, smile widening. “Never had my phalanges edged before.”

“I just like your hands, I think they’re beautiful,” you say, pressing your thumb up his palm in slow, firm slides. You move up each finger, feeling tiny knots disperse beneath the pressure like wood crackling in a fire. “And since you insist on hiding them so frequently, I have to take advantage where I can.”

“I do love it when you take advantage of me,” he purrs, his free hand sliding down your hip, gripping the meat of your thigh.

You grin, bringing the tips of his fingers to your lips so that you can kiss each and every one of them, finishing with his thumb.

His gaze drops to watch, fixated on the plushness of your mouth, and how it moves. You wet your lips with a swipe of your tongue that he follows with predator quickness. His rapt attention makes you feel as powerful as he is, all that raw power thrumming in the very hand you hold in yours.

Tentatively, he tugs at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, eyes never leaving your mouth.

Watching him in turn, you open your mouth and take him into it, teeth scraping over his knuckle. His eyes darken at once, his own lips slightly parted, mirroring you subconsciously.

His thumb, like the rest of his hand, is smooth and without callouses. He tastes clean to a near clinical degree, but there’s a faint salt tang to remind you he’s still human. You trace the veins along the back of his hand before interlacing your fingers with his and squeezing.

With a sly little smile, you bite down just behind his knuckle while pushing your tongue against the pad of his thumb.

Homelander makes a rough noise in the back of his throat, his nails biting dull crescents into your thigh. His throat clicks dryly as he tries and fails to swallow back his hunger.

Pulling off of his thumb with a wet pop, you kiss a trail from his thumb to the divot between it and his index finger, moving leisurely. His skin is growing warmer and warmer against yours, and from where you’re holding his wrist, you feel his pulse quicken.

Particularly when you take his finger into your mouth again, savoring the way it seems to hum against your tongue. 

The feel of him reminds you of the static that would collect on old CRT screens; an invisible force that makes your tongue tingle. Beyond his beauty, he is otherworldly down to the core of his being. Unlike anyone you’ve ever been with.

It’s no wonder you’ve become addicted to him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, enraptured by the sight of you taking him to his last knuckle, your tongue swirling around his finger. 

His hand on your thigh moves and suddenly you’re moving, too. He manhandles you effortlessly onto your opposite side, his finger slipping from your mouth.

He repositions you to put your back to his chest, and with his arm under you, he brings his hand right back to your mouth, coaxing your lips open with his fingers.

Naturally, you greedily swallow down two of them without hesitation.

He groans softly at your ear, kissing the sensitive spot just behind it. Meanwhile his other hand moves down your side, down your belly, slipping into the space between your thighs.

“So warm,” he murmurs, and you’re not sure if he means your mouth or your cunt, his fingers toying with your clit, but you don’t care. You shiver, letting out a quiet moan of your own against his fingers. “So soft.”

You start to match his strokes, drawing back to lick at just the tip of his middle finger the same way he’s teasing your clit.

He catches on quickly, pushing his fingers further back to massage your cunt, only to suddenly pull them away.

You protest with a sharp little nip, but he doesn’t stay gone for long. You hear him suck his own fingers into his mouth–a mental image that by itself makes your pussy throb–and all at once his fingers are back upon you, wet and pushing in.

You moan, pulling his hand to take his fingers deeper into your mouth, tongue pushing between them. The feel of him is absolutely unreal, and everything you enjoy about him on your tongue and your lips is amplified tenfold when he’s sinking into your cunt.

With his fingers buried inside you, he presses you firmly back into him and grinds his cock against the curve of your ass, already hard.

You purposefully arch back into him, hollowing your cheeks sucking on his fingers, bobbing your head in time with his fingers pushing in and out of your pussy.

It feels like heaven to have both of his hands inside you, fucking you, pinning you against his chest where you can feel the tension of his restraint, of his power.

With a rough little gasp you pull off of his two fingers only to take three instead. To your delight, he takes the hint and adds a third between your legs, the aching stretch so good it makes your thighs quiver and clench.

“Fffuck,” he grits out, matching his own pace with how he grinds against your ass, smearing wetness from his leaking tip. 

You can feel how close he is by the faint tremble of his hand, how he’s holding himself back. 

Not to be outdone, he angles his thumb to work your clit, the shock of sensation causing you to bite down on his fingers suddenly.

It makes him moan.

“That’s it, bite down hard, sweetheart. Lemme feel how bad you want it,” he says, the dam officially broken. “You know you can’t hurt me, don’t you? So do it, bite all you want. You like my fingers so much, you’re gonna cum spitroasted on them.”

It works. His words push you over the edge you’d been teetering on, plummeting you down into a surge of pleasure that washes over your entire body, that makes your breath halt and your jaw clench.

While your release is a silent and internal thing, Homelander’s is not.

He growls in your ear, mercilessly fucking you with his fingers through the quakes of your orgasm. He’s murmuring filth and desire and need until he’s choking on the words, gasping his pleasure as he comes against you, a wash of white hot deliciously searing your ass and lower back.

By the end of it you’re both panting, bodies slack against the bed, his hand splayed on the pillow next to your head, his fingers still buried in your quivering cunt.

With what strength you can muster, you slip your hand into his, interlacing your fingers and squeezing. He returns the gesture, stroking your hand with his thumb while he recovers.

“S’mazing…” you slur, tongue and body blissfully loose.

He peppers soft kisses along your neck, nuzzling against you. “Told you it was perverse.”

“You made it sexual.”

“You complaining?”

You don’t respond.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, his smile audible in each word.

Staring at your hands interlaced on the pillow, you smile, too.

They look beautiful together.

“I love you.”

He squeezes your hand. “And I love you.”

[libraryspectre]

Why would you turn the big light on if you had the option to work with no big light on. With just enough light from the window to see what you need to see. More importantly why would you subject me to the big light when the hoods have their own lights. And do you really need the light on to eat your soup in the break room.

My ideal lab partner is a cave salamander

[sluckythewizard]

PART OF A BIGGER DOODLE PAGE. WHEN ITS DONE ILL TUCK THE LINK INTO THIS LITTLE X RIGHT HERE ----> [X] I REALLY REALLY LOVE THE TOM N JERRY DYNAMIC W EMIZEL N VEX. IMAGINE BEING SO SO HAUNTED BY A LITTLE GUY THATS JUST SSSSOO FUCKING ANNOYING.

[dracosiwa]

no thalia grace does NOT listen to “hayloft” and “sweater weather”

she is PUNK and ROCK she probably criticizes you for not knowing 3 songs of a band’s shirt you’re wearing

she listen to green day, sex pistols, rage against the machine, youth brigade and the exploited

also i’m sick of looking for character playlists on spotify and it’s the same songs all over again (yes im talking about 505 and do i wanna know)

[saturnisfallingdown]

on a relisten… malcolms death is easily top 3 scenes of the entire show. the writing gives me chills and the outstanding sound design and the rising music and david charles’ amaaazing acting and the non-stop jaw drop worthy reveals…. holy shit dude

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[secriden]

Oh I just realised the crazy not-flirting shenanigans do NOT end, and in fact continue in episode 3.

Style. Style what are you doing.

[casualavocados]

*colors your kiseki part 2: rainbow edition*

me when i see literally any kiseki scene: you are not immune to being color corrected. and given skintones. while Maintaining Pretty. 💝 (pt 1)

...i love working with this show ngl. & to the people who leave kind words on my sets: i love you too. 🫂❤️🥰🥰🥰

[juricore]

like. obviously there is a hint of tragedy in most 70s-80s-90s shoujo dealing with either lesbianism or the 'girl prince' and while it is almost always suicide or some kind of death pact i did feel my heart sink a little when oscar (rose of versailles) declared herself andre's wife at the end of the series over all things. which somehow stung more than both of them dying? and with the amount that ive read/watched over the last six months its like the constant loop of confessing your feelings and either dying in disgrace or chalking it up to adolescence and losing yourself (oniisama e kaoru). you can see the societal or familial cages they all put themselves in and they almost always die trying to get out. and then utena comes around and for two seconds it doesn't seem like a happy ending at all. people forget her and they forget what she did. but by just having one character say no, this is stupid, im not staying here, i dont have to stay here, im not bound by anything more real than what i felt for her--and then she leaves! you can just leave. its one of the most cathartic and uplifting endings ive ever seen. it's crazy man it's 2024 and i'm still floored by it

[scattered-winter]

defenders of the universe or whatever

inspired by this and photos of spacecraft leaving earth's atmosphere