#i can get more into creative stuff

[unawakening-float07]

i’m trying to not get ahead of myself but one of my new year’s resolutions is to take time to be more creative. have a new desk coming in which i’m hoping to use as a design station for drawing, journaling, painting, stamping aaaand i’m gonna do my best to learn how to sew so it’ll be used for that too.

[puppppppppy]

in his silly era

[vinceaddams]

17th century gloves are. very good.

[smiuffzo]

didnt plan on posting this today originally but decided that it actually fits really well with the beginning of the spooky season, so!

a fake doai movie poster inspired by posters for movies 'a short film about love' and 'on the silver globe', both by andrzej pągowski! and just for fun i also made a version with a shoddy polish title, how authentic am i right

[raineandsky]

#137

tw: mentions of death

“You might consider yourself lucky, [Hero],” the supervillain snaps coolly, “being here, still alive. You are only alive because I let you—because you are much more fun to slowly squeeze the life from, until you’re begging me to end it all, and we will have plenty of time for that.”

With one last cold glare and a swish of his coat, the supervillain leaves the hero in the dungeon. The hero would be inclined to call it a prison, or even a cage, but the walls are damp and there’s bloodied chains sitting in one corner, so in their mind this counts very much as a dungeon.

They settle against the cool stone as comfortably as they can manage, which frankly isn’t comfortable at all. They close their eyes, a sigh escaping their lips. They’re prepared to face whatever agonies are doubtlessly ready for them ahead. Waiting for said agonies will be boring, that’s all.

“You too, huh?”

The hero opens their eyes to glance across the dungeon, to the other side of the darkness. They can only just make out the outline of a figure sulking in the other corner, but they recognise the voice all the same.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the hero says with a short laugh. “What did you do?”

The villain practically growls. “I’m not entertaining you.”

“It’s not entertainment; I’m just curious.”

There’s a second of silence, and the hero thinks they might get an answer before the villain simply says, “You first.”

“Fucked up.��� The hero shrugs, though they can’t tell if the villain can see it or not. “Did something not particularly heroic.”

The villain shifts a little, chains clanking together with the movement. “Huh.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I figured it must be something bad.” The villain makes a noise that might be a laugh or a scoff. “[Supervillain] doesn’t get super serious with just anyone.”

“Must’ve been pretty serious for you to end up down here, then,” the hero comments with a huff.

The villain raises an hand to their face, and the hero gets a glimpse of the line of chain trailing from their wrist.

“Oh, it’s whatever. I also fucked up. Did something…” The villain grapples for a word awkwardly. “Not villainous.”

The hero barks a laugh that seems to make the villain jump, if the sudden clank of metal is anything to go by, but they can’t help it. A newfound anti-hero and a good-hearted villain sharing a supervillain’s dungeon. What a pair they make.

“You’ve peaked my curiosity,” the hero says brightly. “Please, continue.”

Like a broken record, “You first.”

“Ah, y’know, the usual.” The hero doesn’t really want to say it out loud. “I, uh… I killed someone.”

“Oh.” The silence following that is uncomfortably long, until, thankfully, the villain adds, “Yeah, you’re right, that’s not very heroic.”

The hero nods, though they’re not sure if the villain can see it. “I didn’t mean to. It was another villain. I don’t know who—they had red hair and glasses.”

“Oh,” the villain repeats, a little more strained this time. “Yeah, that’ll do it. They’re one of [Supervillain]’s favourites. Or were, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh.” The villain waves a hand at them nonchalantly. “I didn’t really like them, honestly. They were always showing me up in front of [Supervillain], but I think that’s why he liked them. I wasn’t as willing to throw my comrades under the bus for attention.”

They clear their throat awkwardly, and the hero takes the hint. “What about you, then?” they ask shortly. “What did you do?”

The villain sighs, the puff of warm air catching in the one strip of sun lighting the place. “Well, quite the opposite.” A cough of a laugh jolts them slightly, like they weren’t expecting it. “I stopped [Supervillain] from killing someone, and they got away.”

The hero sits on that for a moment. “That’s very noble of you,” they offer eventually.

“Oh, don’t you start.” The villain tsks in annoyance. “I already have [Supervillain] calling me soft for it.”

“I can’t blame him. I mean… are we sure I’m the hero and you’re the villain here?”

The villain laughs like the idea is ludicrous, and the hero laughs too because it is, but then a silence falls over them and the hero knows that they’re both thinking the same thing.

“You know,” the villain starts slowly, “I’ve never really liked being here.”

The hero snorts humorously. “I can’t say I’m a big fan of grotty dungeons either.”

“Not here, you moron,” the villain snaps. “I mean here, with the villains. As one of them.”

“Oh, cheers to that. The agency has too many rules.”

“This hellhole doesn’t have enough.”

“Well,” the hero says brightly, “I’m sensing something big is happening here.”

The villain hums thoughtfully. “Can we maybe talk about it outside of the dank dungeon?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.” The hero’s mind is already running through plans, scenarios, ways of escape. It’s always easier with a teammate, anyway. “Let’s get the hell out of here and start our new lives.”

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[marciaillust]

mom come pick me up people related to my personal posts too much

[maniacwatchestheworld]

You know something? Out of all the ideas that the Danny Phantom fandom has mined the everloving shit out of, I feel that Blood Blossoms have not been mined as a concept NEARLY enough!

Because just like... A flower that hurts ghosts...? That's actually a pretty honest to Arceus interesting idea! Can different species of Blood Blossoms do the same thing? Are there different flowers in the genus that can effect ghosts differently...? Are there other herbal or traditional folk medicine type stuff that can also effect ghosts...? Like, in the human world, Danny Phantom ghosts are pretty OP. But there being stuff that just grows and lives naturally on Earth being able to repel or harm ghosts? That's actually just neat! I wanna see that stuff used more and to know how ghosts would have been fought against in ye olde times before all of this fancy technology came along!

[starflungwaddledee]

Starstruck! Wher are you now? How is the tourney journey going thus far?

we all lost track of time a little there. -several months worth of propaganda making time. thanks for checking in! it looks like her tourney journey will continue after a little nap! << prev || [masterpost] || next >>

[crimescrimson]

The Main House in Resident Evil 7 (2017)

[somegrumpynerd]

Every single time I swear

[edwards-exploit]

Troublesome Tangmere and 249 Squadron Reliable Rebecca!

In an ideal world, we could've had a story where Tangmere causes good old Sundrian Confusion and Delay and then promptly eats shit.

Rebecca as 249 Squadron wasn't my idea, but it's been ingrained into my head nonetheless. I like the idea of a Rebecca that spent most of her life in scrapyards and storage and then still coming out singing- quite literally! But the trauma of it is still very much there, just... lingering. I imagine 'What Rebecca Does' was one of those moments where her anxiety and self doubt got the better of her- she only spent a short while on rails, and while she did pull expresses like The Night Ferry back on the mainland, here on Sodor it seemed that everyone is much more.... experienced and worldly and cool, and most of all, they got modifications and rebuilds to work around their design flaws while Rebecca is still very much an unrebuilt bulleid pacific. Poor girl's not sure what she can really do, after all these years and with her mechanical problems. This isn't even getting into when she WAS in service- her family was fine, and quite loving actually- and the ex SR engines were a decent sort! Everyone else, however...

[deoidesign]

Look at these stickers my brain is literally so huge. God. I love them so much.

I hadn't tried to do a sticker sheet at home before because I knew it would be difficult, and I was right! Getting the cut lines to line up with the print was super hard and there were many failed attempts, but it was so worth it I'm so happy with them!!!

This sticker sheet is for my patrons this month ^^

[raineandsky]

Imagine a hero x villain where the villain is kind of inept, and he basically has one last attempt to convince supervillain he's worthy of his job (and possibly life tbh), and he comes across a badly injured hero. This starts a long con where he ingratiates himself with her, slowly learning details to her powers (think Black Canary's scream), only to sell her out to supervillain. But it turns out he ... might have grown a little fond of her.

Probably a really basic idea. 😅

there's no basic ideas in this house - we like what we like!! thank you for the request as always :)

His whole plan was leading up to this moment. Why is he stalling?

The villain stands outside the supervillain’s door. He should be in there, should be explaining his master plan the he knows the supervillain will love, but no—here he is, lingering outside like a wimp.

He knows why he’s lingering. Of course he does, it’s been pretty hard to avoid.

He found a hero. Injured, weak, vulnerable. He took her in and helped her recover, all under the guise of some concerned civilian who just so happened to know emergency first aid. She was unsure at first; closed off, speaking only to thank him for the food he brought her and the bandages he wound around her injuries.

Then she got comfortable. Talked about her work, the other heroes, how her power worked—her sonic blast, to give it a name. She demonstrated on his poor mug, his favourite, and beamed when the villain showered her in praise and amazement. As heroes do.

She got better, returned to the agency, but not without the stab of affection the villain had managed to plant in her.

The hero returned, of course. Talks of heroism turned into talks of life—her cat was probably eating all her food, heroism made her awful lonely, his sofa was cosy with a blanket over her lap and the fireplace crackling in front of her, could he draw her, please? The villain had tried to play his pad of notes—notes on her—off as a sketchbook before, and was suddenly deeply regretting it.

The drawing’s still in there. He’s been looking at it, with all its wonky lines and uneven pen marks, as he pieced together his plan. Maybe too much. It’s clearly had an effect.

Dammit, now he’s thinking about it again—thinking about her. All he should be thinking about is how he can manipulate the information out of her for the supervillain’s gain. All he can think about is the movie night they’ve planned for this evening.

The supervillain appears at the end of the corridor. He eyes the villain for an awkward moment before he says, “Everything alright, [Villain]?”

Come on, do it. No, don’t. The villain shuffles on his feet. “Yeah. Could I grab you for a meeting quickly?”

The supervillan’s expression only gets more quizzical but he doesn’t say no. He opens his office door and ushers the villain inside with a sigh.

He flops down in his chair, gesturing idly for the villain to start. The villain flips his notepad open, his speech laid out in his mind. I’ve integrated myself into [Hero]’s life. With a little pushing, think of what we could find out! He glances down at the page for inspiration.

The notepad has been open on this page too much recently. It flips itself, irritatingly, to that godawful 30 second drawing, and any words the villain was gearing up to say die on his tongue.

He showed it to the hero with a grimace and she laughed. Loud, unabashed. Like someone who isn’t afraid of who she is. “Looks just like me!” she cried. “It’s no Picasso, sure, but it was by you, so that must count for something!”

The lines are even more crooked than he remembered. Jesus, why did he keep this? It doesn’t do her justice.

“[Villain]?”

The villain looks back up like he just remembered where he is. He did, honestly. He was more than a little lost in his own thoughts. Thinking about her like some irritating fly that just won’t take the hint away no matter how much you swat it.

“Yeah, I, uh, yeah.” Flawless start. The villain clears his throat and flips the pad closed. “I just, uh, thought I’d say that whatever you’ve done with the light bulbs is good. It’s, uh, brighter. In here. In all the rooms.”

The supervillain stares at him blankly. “Is that… what this was about?”

No! “Yeah.”

The supervillain has never had less emotion on his face than right now. “Okay.”

“Okay,” the villain echoes, and with a quick nod he turns on his heel and gets the hell out of there.

The halls are quiet, thankfully. The villain lobs the notepad in the first bin he finds, and after taking three steps he grumbles to himself and pulls it back out and tears the drawing out and replaces the pad in the bin.

He might as well just go home. He has a movie night to set up anyway, and he needs to rob the corner store of all the popcorn they have.

[silusvesuius]

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[adorablegorilla]

You can will one into existence, choose: A Girls' Last Tour movie finished up the last few chapters or a single cour of a Shimeji Simulation anime.

I can act like this is a hard choice and go over it in my head again and again but at the end of the day it was always gonna be the single cour of Shimeji Simulation Anime