#i dunno man i wanted to color and i like their art!!

[skreebat]

I also colored one of Teeth’s drawings from this set :3

Go follow Teeth!!

Warm him up (plus an older drawing of Kremy in a 20s zoot suit, which is very fun to say)

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hell-o

Ummmm I dunno if you’re still taking requests… but if you are…

Could you please do a platonic rivals Vox x Internet demon!Reader who have a “Internet killed the video star” type of dynamic? Like calling Vox things like “Outdated” and “Boomer” and Vox trying to prove that NO the tv is NOT DEAD and he is NOT OLD-TIMEY!

Warnings: none!

Navigation!!

Boomer

The air in the studio crackled with static, not the typical kind that plagued broadcast signals, but the tangible electric hum of two egos clashing. Vox, the slick, charismatic overlord of the Vees, stood before his towering screen, his three eyes narrowed into predatory slits. He was resplendent, as always, in his sharp suit and polished chrome, a testament to the power of television. On the other side of the room, however, lounging on a haphazardly arranged pile of discarded cables and servers, was the source of his current ire: (Y/N), a being of pure internet energy.

(Y/N) was a mess of flickering pixels and ever-shifting code manifest, a chaotic kaleidoscope of bright colors and sharp, glitchy edges. They were currently sporting a particularly loud pair of neon headphones and a smug, knowing grin that could curdle milk. Vox wanted to erase it from their face.

"So," (Y/N) drawled, their voice a digital distortion that somehow managed to sound both bored and condescending, "still clinging to the old box, Voxxy? Still trying to convince the masses that moving pictures on a big glass rectangle is 'cutting edge'?" Their form flickered, a pixelated hand gesturing dismissively toward Vox's towering screen.

Vox's smile twitched, his sharp teeth bared just a little too much. "It's television, you digital degenerate. And it is a proven, reliable method of entertainment. Something you, with your twitching pixels and pop-up ads, could never hope to replicate.” He gestured to his control panel, its buttons and dials gleaming under the studio lights. "This is infrastructure, this is art! This is power."

(Y/N) barked a laugh, the sound a burst of static that made the overhead lights flicker. "Infrastructure? You call that infrastructure? Honey, that's a dinosaur skeleton. I've got faster wifi on my left thumbnail than you've got in that whole… thing." They flicked their fingers, causing a cascade of holographic memes to flutter around them like angry butterflies. "The internet is instantaneous, interactive, infinite! Your boob tube is just… static, old man."

The word 'static' grated on him more than 'boomer'. "I am not old," Vox spat, his metallic voice gaining an edge. "Television is timeless! It's where heroes are made, where stories are told!" He slammed a fist against his console with a metallic clang. "You wouldn't understand, you with your endless cat videos and… 'challenges', whatever those are. I make stars, you create… noise!"

(Y/N) hopped off the tangled mess of wires, landing with a soft thump that sent dust motes dancing in the air. "Oh, we make stars too, Voxxy. Millions of them. They just, you know, sparkle a little brighter, burn a little hotter, and get shared a hell of a lot faster. Who’s going to be watching your grainy broadcasts when they can stream a live concert globally, in crystal-clear 4K, with a chat feature?” They pressed a few imaginary buttons on their form, causing a window to pop open, filled with a chaotic stream of comments. “See, this is interaction! It's dynamic! It’s not you just talking at a bunch of blank screens.”

"Dynamic? It’s chaotic!” Vox countered, his three eyes wide with a mixture of outrage and a begrudging sliver of curiosity. “All those… emojis. It looks like someone threw a box of crayons into a blender."

(Y/N) chuckled, a low hum that vibrated through the studio. "That's the point, old-timer! It's a vibrant, messy, beautiful mess. The internet is a reflection of everything and everyone. Your TV is… well, it’s just you.”

"And what's wrong with me?" Vox demanded, his head tilting slightly. He wasn’t used to having someone openly mock his entire operation. "I'm sophisticated, I’m powerful! My broadcasts are carefully curated, meticulously planned!"

“Planned? That's the problem!” (Y/N) teased, their form flickering with digital laughter. “It's all so... predetermined. On the internet, anything can happen! Someone can go viral for sneezing! A cat can suddenly play the piano! The possibilities are limitless!” Their form shifted again, briefly manifesting a dancing cat with a tiny piano.

Vox’s jaw twitched. He knew that (Y/N) was right, in some twisted, annoying way. Something about the unpredictable nature of the internet did chafe at his control-freak tendencies. He was in the business of crafting narratives, of controlling the message, and the wild, uncontainable nature of the web was, frankly, unsettling.

He crossed his arms, his metallic fingers tapping against his arm. “So, what? Your chaotic mess is better than my ‘predetermined’ broadcasts? Please, your algorithms are just regurgitating the same drivel over and over again.” He tilted his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Why don’t we settle this?”

(Y/N)’s pixelated form perked up, their digital eyes growing wide with excitement. “Ooh! Now, you’re talking! What battle are you thinking?”

Vox’s grin widened, his eyes glinting. “I say… a content war! Let's see who can capture the attention of the masses. We'll put our best work forward, you with your chaotic shorts and I with my carefully crafted programming, and we’ll let the viewers decide. The internet will never replace the charm of the tube!”

“Only a boomer would say charm,” (Y/N) scoffed but they were already buzzing with excitement, their form flickering even more rapidly. “You’re on, grandpa! Let’s see if your outdated tech can keep up with the speed of light!”

With that, the battle lines were drawn, the clash of old-school media and new-age chaos about to unfold. Vox may have scoffed at the ‘noise’ of the internet, but he knew, deep down, that he was facing a force as chaotic and powerful as the shifting tides. And (Y/N), despite their snarky demeanor, secretly admired the polished sheen of old-school television, a world they knew they were slowly, but surely, changing. Their rivalry was fierce, but it was also, in its own warped way, a form of mutual respect. They were two sides of the same coin, forever clashing, forever challenging, and secretly, maybe, enjoying the competition. The war was on, and the studio, and the world beyond its walls, would never be the same.

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[scattered-winter]

sometimes i see a post and its like. hm. you actually care very little about the story or characters or plot at all bc all you want is for the token male twinks to kiss.

[ethereiling]

im going to be so real i think im going to snap if i see one more person talking about how There Is No Objective Quality In Art because yes there is!! there arent strict rules about what objective quality is, theres no one size fits all metric, but high quality art is effective in evoking emotion and thought in ways that low quality art isnt. there are so many ways that people can choose to evoke certain feelings through art but the effectiveness of that Is a pretty solid means to determine quality in my experience

[mementoasts]

jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london

[kalims]

scribbles

"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.

ft. malleus, vil

malleus

it was... a breach of your patience.

the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.

so you decide to sate said boredom.

how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!

your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.

"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.

without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.

... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.

said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.

but it's from you so he likes it.

he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.

it's adorable. you're adorable.

his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.

you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.

that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.

vil

drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.

vil is great at makeup.

every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.

but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.

this... he doesn't know what to consider.

perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.

he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.

the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.

"why?"

"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."

he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...

"gorgeous." you finish for him.

his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)

your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.

vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.

well, what the heck.

"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."

note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🐾₊˚ I DON'T PURR : 709 WRDS

INSPIRED BY @cloudbug08 ‘s CG LOGAN HEADCANONS ; DRABBLE |🐾| A/N : No one will ever stop me from making CG!/Dad!Logan fics. At all. Ever.

You’ve been regressed all day. Yesterday was a busy, stressful, overwhelming day, and now you’re coping with the stress. Logan is by your side, caring for you as usual. You lay on the living room floor’s carpet, tummy pressed to the ground, legs kicking up in the air. You breathe contently as you carefully color the page Logan printed out for you.

You could hear him in the bathroom down the corridor near the stairs. He was carefully grooming his hair while humming a tune that sounded a little too familiar. A soft smile crept onto your lips once you recognized it, it was the sound of your favorite cartoon’s intro. “I know that song,” you chirp, gaining a soft chuckle from the man. “You sure do, kiddo. So much that you’ve got me hummin’ it myself,” he replied. He set down the comb before letting out a soft sigh. The sound of his boots slightly clacking against the hardwood floor made you turn your head and giggle out of excitement when you see him. “Kitty hair! Kitty hair,” you exclaim. “Not kitty hair,” he corrected while shaking his head.

“Kitty hair” is what you’d call Logan’s hair any time he had it brushed up like little animal ears. As much as he denied that they were meant to be ears to represent any animal, he never truly cared that you called it kitty hair. He found it pretty cute and grew fond of the term.

“Can I pretty please play with it,” you plead, clasping your hands together. Logan shrugs in response. “I dunno, bubs,” he drags out playfully. “Pretty please? I promise I’ll get that one spot behind your ears that you really like,” you add in an attempt to get him to accept your request. He looks down at you sweetly, hands on his hips, one eyebrow cocked. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he groans dramatically, feigning annoyance. “But you gotta clean up all that arts and crafts stuff you got going on.”

Without hesitation, you nod in agreement. You start to clean up your crayons and coloring pages with haste. Within minutes, you’re done putting everything up, now sat on the couch waiting for Logan to come lay his head on your lap. You stretch your hands out to him grasping the air between you two. “Calm down, kiddo. I’m coming,” he assures you. He walks closer to you, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, slips off his boots, and lays his head in your lap. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable by putting one leg on top of the other and crossing his arms against his chest. “There you go, bubs,” he hums with a deep exhale. You squeal with excitement as you gently begin to play with his hair. You run your fingers through the strands, scratch his scalp, and when you scratch behind his ears, you hear something. Purring. He always purrs when you play with his hair for long enough.

“You purr,” you exclaim with a giggle and a huge grin on your face. Logan sighs in return. He shakes his head in denial “You’ve got it all wrong, kid. I don’t purr. Wolverines don’t purr. You’re making things up,” he protests against your previous claim.

You felt his throat vibrate softly against one of your thighs and listened closely. As you told him, he was purring.

“You purr like a kitty, then,” you chirp back. Another deep sigh. He’s not even annoyed with your claim. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want to admit to his kiddo that he purrs. “I don’t purr. I didn’t purr,” he states firmly. “It’s not right to lie to your papa,” he said with a light-hearted chuckle. “But you did! I promise,” you pout to him. “I’ll prove it,” you say before beginning to scratch at his scalp again.

Sure as hell, he purrs. He grumbles softly to interrupt his purrs in protest. You know you’ve won once you hear a soft sigh fall from his lips as you scratch right behind his ears. More purring. “Guess you’re right, bubs,” he chuckles softly while closing his eyes. “Just keep scratching. It feels nice,” he adds with a smile creeping onto his lips.

TAG LIST : @saronics

[miguelhugger2099]

Punk!Miguel who’s proud of his tattoos. At least most of them. He has some professionally done and others were stick and pokes from when him and Gabriel were younger.

Punk!Miguel who watches you with a smile when you touch up and down his arm. He hides the shivers down his spine when your perfectly manicured pink and green nails rake across the art decorated on him.

“What’s this one?” You poke at a terrible done smiley face, it was a little blobbed but barely noticeable with the much nicer ones done around it.

“One of the first tries my brother did on me when he was starting out.”

“And you kept it?” You tilt your head with a scrunch of your nose. Miguel laughs.

“Sentimental value.”

You scoff. “No way.”

“Yeah, way.” He takes your hands and pulls you closer, lugging you forward onto his lap where you belonged. Getting yourself comfortable you placed your hands on his chest.

“Are you just gonna have them on your arms?” You ask, tugging down his shirt for a peek at any new ones. Miguel smirks and stops your peeking by tsking and shaking his head—a knowing look on his face.

“Course not but tattoos cost money, babe.”

“You should get one of me.” You pout your lips, crossing your arms that makes you seem snobbish.

“What? Like get one of your face?” He laughs and leans back on his hands.

“No! Like—I dunno! Something sentimental about…me?” You look away, feeling the prickling embarrassment crawling up your neck. “Never mind!”

“Oh, so you want to be on my body, huh?” He teases, taking your hand and sliding it under his tank top to feel his warm stomach, faint dips of abs.

“You know what I mean!” You whine, feeling frozen with him holding your hand in place. He can’t help but find you adorable. Letting go of your hand to come around your waist as he leans up again, one hand coming down to cup your ass. He swallows your squeak with a kiss, unable to stop himself from biting into your sweetness.

Punk!Miguel who—even if he teased you about it—actually adored the idea of having a tattoo of you on him.

Punk!Miguel who thought day and night of what could represent you. Flowers he felt was done often, your name was cute but basic and anything else could very well be mistaken for something else. He wanted something that was obviously you.

Punk!Miguel who was rearranging his room again, bustling through various boxes for some spring cleaning.

Punk!Miguel who found his box of memories from when you two first began dating. It had been filled with all your gifts and letters you’d given him—every last piece saved securely in the corner of his room.

He smiles as he opens the box up again. Some pieces of papers falling out and the little broken keychain you got to match with him until it snapped when he accidentally sat on it.

He sits at his desk, flipping through the pages and tiny plushies you’ve given him. His heart swelling at the swirls in your writing with blue ink—the bunny pen you always wrote with.

The smile on his face continues as he reads through your words of love for him—words that you often found too difficult to say. He slams his forehead on the desk, blush coating his cheeks and ears while he groans loudly.

Each letter you’d given him ended with a print of your kiss mark at the very bottom. Some of it was a matte red, others was a faint glitter stain, but most of it was a soft pinkish color. The kind that was glossy and gave you just enough color that it looked tinted and natural.

His finger grazes the mark, an idea popping in his head.

Punk!Miguel who goes to a tattoo shop he was very well acquainted with, with an artist he knew extra well.

He slams his arm on the counter where a man was behind it, sucking on a lollipop and doodling in his sketchbook. The guy raises an annoyed brow.

“Do you have any space open for a walk-in client?” Miguel asks with a smirk.

“I don’t have space for annoying ones.” He sighs and puts his drawing pad away.

“I have money this time, Gabri. Plus, family discount.”

Punk!Miguel who is both afraid and excited to show you what he’s done to himself. He feels his heart hammering while he preps himself to show you. He’d done the aftercare as precisely as possible, taking extra care of it because this was no ordinary tattoo.

Punk!Miguel that lets you take off his shirt when he tells you he’s gotten a tattoo of you.

Punk!Miguel who smiles with amusement when you gasp and hit his arm that you were joking before! That tattooing is a permanent thing! He tells you that he knows.

His heart stills when you eyes land on his chest. On his left side, where his heart would be was your kiss mark. Just like the ones you left on the letters you used to give him.

You touch your lips subconsciously, your other set of fingers hovering over his lifted skin. You look up for permission and he nods, brining himself closer.

You marvel at the piece of work that replicated your lips. “Oh, Miguel…” You sigh, blinking back tears.

“Are you getting emotional?”

“No!”

He brings you to his chest in a tight hug, your hand still resting beside your kiss mark now permanently etched on his person—a permanent reminder that he is yours and that he loves you.

[chlmtsdoll]

i need some dad art moments from u !!! 🩷

Yes yes yes. I don’t want kids so writing out the fantasies in my fics helps the girl instincts pass iykyk. 😉

Fluff | Dilf Art | he’s a soft parenting kinda guy so here <3

It had been past your girls bed time when you were found snug, on the couch as you sat cuddled up with Art in front of the tv. The two of you were getting ready just in time to start your movie night after setting your eight and two year old daughters tucked away for the night. So as they were sound asleep, you and your husband could finally get some time to wind down together. Just you and your Art.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight, sweets ?” Art questioned you with a fond smile as he relaxed against the pillows by your side, a blanket and remote in hand with him.

“Hmm, I feel like a drama tonight, I dunno- or.. romance?” you slowly began to grin as you always wanted to get Art to feel the feels with you when it was your turn to pick the movie. Which led him to playfully groaning as he shook his head. Every week it was the same pick with you.

“Baby..” your husband chuckled as he pulled your legs across his lap. “You always wanna watch a drama- - I’m not sure if I’m up for tears tonight.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as Art furrowed his brow in nervousness that you’d put on something that would have him reaching for the tissues for two hours.

“But crying during movies is fun!”

“Sure it is, but, there’s tons of other kinds of movies- - it is October now. What about something spooky?” The man did his best to convince you of watching anything other than another sappy film and you sighed as you sat in thought of his suggestion of scaring you into being paranoid all night.

“I suppose… but nothing too much. I wanna sleep tonight.” You titter and Art smirked.

“You’re fine. And if you do get scared, that’ll give me an excuse to hold you all night without you complaining that I’m suffocating you.” Art pulled you into his chest smoothly and you let out giggles as he wrapped both his broad arms around your body covered in your soft colored pajama set and comfy slippers.

Art was leaving kisses on your face before you heard the sound of tiny feet hitting the floor boards from the hallway. Approaching the living room, you and Art both looked down the way in which you heard the noise, sitting up when your two year old came running to the both of you.

“Daddy!” She yelled as she climbed the couch and collapsed straight in Arts embrace without any notion to you in your husbands grasp.

“Hey ! Hey.. angel, what’s wrong ? Did Lily wake you?”

Your daughter shook her head, and you leaned up as the tired child mumbled a bunch of unknown phrases with the occasional “daddy” in between being all the two of you could understand. You’d still been working on her vocabulary at the time being. So far, all she really knew was to ask for food, daddy, mommy (although she hardly used it because she always just wanted Art) and well.. Art.

He was her whole world these days. Most of the time ignoring you whenever her dad had been their to play and let her do parkour off of him. They were conjoined at the hip and it did give you more time to rest when Art had been home to be with the girls when you’d been the one with them most of the time while he was at tennis. It was like the moment he walked through the door they hadn’t even known of your existence anymore. Art would make jokes about being their favorite, but deep down he knew to remind the girls to love and appreciate their mama as well.

You smiled fondly as you reached to stroke your daughters hair, she laid her head on Arts chest like she’d been ready to go to bed. Wrapping her little arms around her dads torso as best as the sleepy girl could, like he was a pillow made just for her. It made your heart swell.

“I guess she couldn’t sleep again.”

“Yeah.. couldn’t sleep, my love?” Art coo’d as he glanced down at the baby, holding you and her as well as he could in his lap. He’d gotten better at it when it was a necessity to make himself shareable for all three of his girls. Most of his time at home with you all had been filled with each of you wanting him more than anything really, so luckily there was more than enough love to go around even for the busy man.

You leaned in and kissed the girls head softly before standing up.

“Well baby, it’s way past your bedtime. You gotta sleep so let’s get you up to your room-” as you reached to lift her from Arts hold, it was immediate whines and cries that come from the two year old.

“No!” She huffed and her pout was clear as she clung to Art away from your hands. Your shoulders dip in defeat as you sighed and looked up at your husband who already had an all knowing look on his expression of how this always went.

She had been like this gradually the last couple of weeks. She wouldn’t go down in her own bed or anywhere else unless Art held her to sleep. She wanted him every second of the day when it was time for her naps or just in general. Which hurt your heart at times when he’d be off at work because the little one would cry ferociously for her dad even with you. And as precious as you thought it was when they were together — her curled up in his arms, sought sound asleep with her cute cupids bows to her lip slightly agape against him, and eventually he would fall asleep with her as well. You wanted to be cuddled by your husband to sleep some nights too.

“C’mon baby, you gotta go to sleep. Daddy and I will stay with you, okay?..” you tried to take her hand, get her to want to sleep in her own bed with her own stuffed animals and right across from her big sister. But her stubbornness didn’t budge. She just fought off your hands and held on to Art as best as she could, tucking her face away in his shirt as you speak with soft whines.

“Princess, mommy wants you to sleep in your bed tonight. We gotta listen to her wishes…” Art tried to help with his soft but taunting tone. And your little one only pouted more, she turned away from you and hugged Art as the waterworks started. Your husband sighed and glanced back up at you.

“Just.. for tonight, why don’t we let her stay with us, babe?”

Art’s gentle nature matched his voice as he cradled his daughter closer in his embrace, leaving less space for you.

“But what about movie night..” you could of pouted too if you hadn’t remembered you’d been the one co in charge here, but Art only gave you a reassuring smile as he held the back of your head and brought you in for a sweet kiss.

“We can still have a movie. We’ll just have to keep quiet till she’s asleep than I’ll bring her back up. How does that sound, sweetness ?” Your husband handled it all so well, even better than you at moments you had to admit. Though you knew by the time your daughter had fallen asleep and your movie was over, you’d definitely be too beat for there to be any time to allude to anything else you and your husband could of spent doing. But you had to accept that. And even with your hand softly easing up on your little girl, you could only let it slip away with a soft breath before kissing goodbye your night alone with your husband.

“Fine, I guess it’ll be alright for tonight.” You spoke softly before looking down at your little one and rubbing her back tenderly.

Art couldn’t say he didn’t hope that he could’ve gotten just one night in between your daughters tough bedtime streak to enjoy you, especially since he just got a break from work. But as much as it would have been hard to say no to you, it was even harder for him to disregard his baby girl asking for him to bed. He just couldn’t resist. And to you it was never easy either — with the way she pleaded to be coddled. She had her daddy’s eyes, blue orbs with just a swirl of brown hinted in there looking up at you with pre-readied tears. His features standing out in her was always your weakest point especially when Art had looked right back at you to ask of her to stay. The night would come when you’d just have to send her back to bed. But that wasn’t gonna be tonight.

As the evening went on, you and Art did finish your movie and the man made sure to keep both of his girls supported comfortably by his side, you palmed the side of your daughters cheek as well as Arts and looked up to watched as his tired eyes stayed on the screen ahead of you three.

“How are we supposed to make more babies if we can’t even get one out of the way?” You whispered with an endearing smile as you traced the light patch of subtle on his face and Art couldn’t help but chuckle softly before leaning in to kiss your temple.

“The right time will come, my love.”

[fandomfuntimem]

Humans are less advanced than a majority of aliens due to their focus on the arts.

-----------------------------

Lizal found humans so infinitely fascinating. They advance fast and beautifully but never seem to reach the level of all the other alien races he had met.

While the Ranths and Trits spent all their time researching and building, spreading far and wide, hoping to learn everything there is to know about everything. Looking at every minute detail. Humans, while they did make their own progress and research, also had a tendency to step back and just enjoy the moment.

The concept of a big picture had been foreign to Lizal. But then that one human joined their crew.

Their name was Ben. Their stay was temporary, Lizal had seen no point in getting to know them, but then he began to notice the small things.

The way Ben would sit in their office, a device called "headphones" strapped firmly to their head. How they would lean back and just be there. No movement, no notes taken. They just closed their eyes and leaned back. At first, Lizal feared the smaller being had passed. Only to be met with an irritated grunt when attempting to check vitals, "what? Can't you see I'm busy?"

They tended to sit and stare out the windows of the ship for hours. Sometimes, they had the headphones with them. Sometimes, they didn't. Other crew mates would whisper and question Ben's sanity. Ben would simply get up and leave if they heard such conversation.

Then there was that one other contraption. Ben called it a "camera," but it was nothing like the cameras Lizal knew. It couldn't focus beyond what was visible to the eye. It emitted light with every picture taken, and Ben treated it as if it were their most prized item. Going as far as to attack Officer Vulta for even daring to touch it without permission.

When questioned on these behaviors, Ben would simply say, "I dunno man. Good vibes, I guess." And go back to whatever they had been working on. Lizal soon came to understand these 'good vibes' as something that purely made Ben happy. Though, the other officers raised concern that these 'good vibes' were interfering with Ben's work. So they called him in for a meeting.

The officers inquired about Ben's slower work, claiming these 'good vibes' were the cause of it. Ben laughed, "I'm the fastest in my field! In fact, this is me at my peak! Without my headphones and silent times, I wouldn't be getting half as much work done." The officers weren't pleased with this response, citing their own species and how they could get the job done faster, "we have no need for such unimportant tasks! Work is all we need! Hard workers are what keeps our planet alive!" At this, Ben's usually cheery expression fell. Lizal practicly felt the distain seeping into the air, "how sad," was the only half-hearted response they received before Ben turned on their heal and walked out.

------

Lizal wanted to know what made Ben so different. They understood humans tended to focus more on their own personal well-being. One tactic for achieving that goal was surrounding themselves with spacific sounds, colors, and shapes. But Lizal could never truly understand. What was the point in all of it? Each technological advancement, each scientific achievement, was met with an equal advancement in what humans referred to as "art"

Humans actively pushed back against progress. Protecting the wildlife of their planets with such vigor. Lizal's own species, the Ranths, were known for their farming and cloning advancements that had erased any need for wildlife on their planet. When informed of their farming process and that they provided the shipping company they work for with food, Ben's usually lackluster demeanor tawords the ship's food turned to one of melancholy. Since then, they would simply half-heartedly pick at their food and eat about half before returning to their room to pick from their "stash."

But, out of every odd thing Ben had done, only one thing stood out. This moment alone was the moment Lizal could truly understand.

Their ship broke down in the middle of the Tulpar Nebula. Ben and Lizal were assigned to check the outside of the ship for any damage, and right as they got the go-ahead to return to the ship, Lizal watched as Ben let go of the ship. They were still tethered to the outside, but non less, it was dangerous to let go.

Lizal swung back, ready to yell at Ben for their recklessness. Only to be met with water droplets floating past his face. Looking further beyond, he saw Ben floating just at the edge of the oxygen field. They were crying, sobbing even. Then those sobs turned into hearty and joyous laughter. They kicked their legs and threw their arms up. With a grin splayed across their faces, Ben yelled, "It's beautiful! Haha! It's so beautiful!"

They soon whipped out their camera, stabilized themself, and began taking photos. Muttering about how, "everyone back home will love this."

Lizal couldn't understand it. Looking at the nebula, all they saw were clusters of atoms and star dust just floating in the void of space, nothing more, nothing less, but he wanted to understand. So, against all orders blaring in his earpiece, he clipped his tether onto the ship and floated out taword Ben.

Ben turned, a wide and bright smile splayed across their face, "isn't it beautiful?" Lizal looked around, and for the first time, he let go of all those years of research and science. He let go of the presice and factual way he was taught to think, and he just looked. He looked at all the colors that floated past them, all the stars twinkling and shining, the way the colorful dust and void of space clashed to create what Lizal could only assume was art.

For the first time in what felt like eternity, Lizal's mind felt clear. First, he wept. Then he laughed, "it is Ben! It's absolutely beautiful!"

----------------------------

I just wanted to create a story about good vibes and enjoying what's around you. I hope you enjoyed!

[tizeline]

I’ve never seen a separated au with Leo being raised by big mama, what do you think that would be like? (Since he’s kinda rebellious)

For the record, there are AUs where Leo's been raised by Big Mama, the ones I know of are Gemini AU by tangledinink and True Colors AU by v-albion. I'm not super familiar with either of them, but they're there if you wanna check them out.

That being said-

LEO being raised by BIG MAMA omg I have THOUGHTS

Listen, I don't see enough people compare Leo to Big Mama, but he's quite similar to her. Splinter and BM never got a kid together, BUT IF THEY DID that kid would literally be Leo he's basically just a fusion of the two of them!!

As I've mentioned several times before because I love bringing it up, Leo is strategic, quick-witted, observant and good at talking. In the show (as well as in my own AU) Leo's strengths aren't really recognized, let alone aknowledged for a big portion of the story. Because of that, for a long time he doesn't really get the chance to develop these skills, as much potential Leo has to become a master planner his impulsiveness and inexperience has a tendency to get him into trouble.

BUT! All of these skills also happen to be skills that Big Mama has and would value in Leo. So if he were to actually have to opportunity to not only be raised by BM but also trained by her for his entire life. If he got to properly learn strategy, planning, manipulation...?

... Holy shit Leo would be terrifying.

Think about it, canon!Leo managed to out-smart BM in Many Unhappy Returns without any real experience, just imagine what he could do with a whole life-time of training.... yikes!

Not sure what exactly Big Mama and Leo's relationship would look like. In my opinion she would view him as her son and love him dearly, especially if she knew that he's Splinter's biological son.... it's just that BM has interesting ways of showing affection. ("The love of my life just proposed to me?? Great! I'm gonna lock him up in my gladiator fighting ring for the rest of eternity!") She'd at the very least be quite controlling, I imagine.

As you pointed out, Leo can be quite rebellious, so that mixed with Big Mama's obsessive need to be in complete control of everyone around her would certainly cause some tension. Actually... considering how clever Leo would be in this AU... uh oh.

All of these qualities that BM initially appreciated and encouraged in Leo, what if, as Leo became more and more capable, Big Mama started to eventually view them in a more negative light? If she feels like she's loosing control over Leo, if she interprets Leo's rebellion as not just a normal teenage need for independence but rather him malicously working against her. What if she starts viewing him not as an asset or as a tool, but rather a threat?

If BM has reason to believe that Leo might try to overthrow her and take control over her criminal empire, she might take preemptive action and get rid of him before he has the chance to get rid of her.... Not like murder-get-rid-of, I don't think she'd just kill him, lol! But like lock him up, maybe throw him into the Battle Nexus, I dunno. Anything that would allow her to remain in control of both him and her business.

As for Leo, maybe he would actually try to overthrow BM. Considering he was raised by a literal mafia boss, his moral compass is gonna be a bit wack. Maybe Leo's desire for control over himself would cause him to try to seize control over his mother's business. Oooooorrrrr maybe Leo just wants some independance but doesn't actually want to compete with BM, so when she interprets his actions and behavior as malicious he's not prepared for that at all and, as a result, is more than a little hurt that his own mother would take such extreme actions against him. Who knows?

Hhhhhhh there's a lot of fun posibilities here but MAN I'm not really in the mood to work on an entirely new AU. Maybe I'll create some art for it I dunno, this concept is really fun, but I'm not gonna turn this into a proper Thing, so if anyone else wanna steal this concept and explore it for themselves, feel more than free to do that!

[nemcat7]

Thank you @skyball2000 for commissioning me ^^

These 2 drawings of Rivulet will be in an upcoming video on https://www.youtube.com/@Skyball !

Edit: Video was posted! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQrCjBf1JVk&ab_channel=Skyball

Make sure to check it out :D

(Read more for my self-indulgent art thoughts)

Designing Rivulet:

Oh dear void Ruffles why must your official art be so inconsistent. They draw your gills different every time, and your anatomy is so much more detailed than how the slugcats in the original game look. I decided to base Riv in this art more off the og slugcats than their downpour art. For their gills, sometimes theyre drawn more feather-like or more gill-like. I went with the more gill-like shape. Rivulet's eyes are also one of my favorite things about their design. Theyre so LARGE and they stand out a lot, especially in the dark structure of the Rot.

Designing The Rot:

I heavily referenced the official game art for the background. I love the aesthetic of The Rot so much, the dark blue tendrils with the moody red lighting, its such fun to try to capture that dying superstructure atmosphere. In my drawing I wanted to convey how navigating the Rot as a player feels. the room is long and dark, and you cant tell how long it is. The only path ahead is surrounded by Rot cysts. One wrong step and its over. And among it all is a small blue overseer in the distance, telling you which direction to go. Then theres Rivulet, a small creature navigating a vast world

Designing Submerged Superstructure:

Again, referenced official art. Except there was also some unused art for Submerged Superstructure, so i added that to my references as well. The colors in it are wonderful, I love how the bright green looks with the dark red, and then Rivulet being blue lets them pop out a lot more. The yellow glow weed also adds a bit of a nice touch. I wanted this drawing to convey the feeling of Rivulet plunging into the depths of a superstructure taken over by water and nature. They swim further down into the green nothingness, with only a few broken buildings left. The bubbles were also added to help communicate that this is an underwater scene.

Additional thoughts:

-man i should draw backgrounds more theyre actually pretty cool once you have a solid idea in mind

-please watcher dlc if you change the slugcat anatomy one more time i will literally drink water

-slugcats are so shaped i dunno how else to say it they are just a blob with limbs and ears and i love them for it

-ruffel cute watr ket ya

[smrtnik07]

librarians redesigned!!! by me!!! :)

the designs are free to use, i used this as a character design exercise for myself while recovering from carpal tunnel issues! read more for all the individual designs + me ranting :*

first off roland!! i included an angelica in here, i designed her before him, shes very triangular to me.. maybe a bit more messed up than roland tells us about, he is a biased narrator afterall. anyways i wanted his design to match hers nicely, so hes like a rounded square type of guy... i think projmoon designed him to be Just A Guy intentionally, so i played into it. overall the least interesting design of the bunch imo. its on purpose :)

angela !!! my baby :) an important thing here is her bangs. i dont want her hair to be able to recover from however many years she spent with the hard middle part in lobcorp, i think its cute to incorporate it still. swoopy, fluffy hair for her! and the clothes are just a bit more casual idk the librarian uniforms were kinda boring and stiff to me, as much as it does go with her character.. if u wanna be human u gotta experience the joy of sweatpants or whatever. also i didnt add color but i dont want her to be fully white<3 or fully clear skinned.. give her sunspots on her face. she finally gets to experience sun. :)

guess ill go in order of appearance lol. malkuth! whats the headband for if it doesnt keep anything out of her face!! since shes a bit more active than some of her colleagues, i also gave her a ponytail(its also for the silhouette...) also gave her some chubbier thighs.. also maybe a butler-esque coat, at least to me; i just made it a bit more form fitting than the original. playing into her personality or whatever. shes cute.. remember to take deep breaths!!

yesod!! i want to play into the skin issues a bit more, i still removed his gloves but i gave him a poncho, not just for the square silhouette im trying to build but for more coverage. also emo hair over eyes was funny. also wide flare pants for you, boy. just very square and put together in general

hod! this ones my favorite (i even cared enough to give her a pattern on that skirt!!) it was kinda bugging me how in the artbook i couldnt tell who was writing because hod's, malkuth's, and tiphereth's colors are so similar. so hod is pink now, and malkuth a bit more orange. i kinda went for a romantic poet thing here, dunno how much that worked out, but i think out of everyone you can tell shes the literature girl. gave her pigtails !! theyre cute :> also since i removed the coat decoration off of angela, i gave part of it to hod in the bottom of her coat :). cute and round!

netzach is a very strange man to me.. ellipse shape and loose fitting clothes for u. if i saw him irl i wouldnt approach him. not to say i dont like him as a character, i love him, but i want him to look like a depressed guy who would pick up art as a hobby to distract himself and it works. bro is just surviving out there. also gave him comfy clothes to make the surviving easier, down to the shoes and wide, id assume non-denim pants - maybe cotton? maybe sweatpants that dont fit around the ankle? who knows.

tiphereth!! since she's like the teen girl of the group i gave her a skater dress, converse, and a tied coat around her waist.. like how i used to wear as a teen when i was being a hater and recovering from a death in the family that changed my entire life (im still a teen ... 9 more days till im 20 as of posting this). also gave her fishnets i think she would like that. i imagine she would get headaches bc of those dumb braids on her head<3 or maybe bc her coworkers are kinda dumb<3

gebura :) round face, reverse triangle shaped body.. like a true butch lesbian stereotype.. i decided a leather jacket, docs and pants i see metalheads wear would fit her! red leather jacket, of course. also gave her spiky hair just like projmoon did<3 my favorite detail here are the eyebrows, i think their shape is rlly neat! nvm i think its just that gebura is rlly neat. anyways the eyebrows fit her

chesed my boy.. idk i just saw him and hit him with the transmasc beam and gave him , as the kids say, wh0re eyes. i wanted him to have rounder hips and just be round in general. turtleneck and cardigan combo also, i think he would like wearing that. also somewhat curlier hair, or at least wavy would do him well! and a tote bag, i dont doubt that he would go out to read in coffee shops if he could - so he gets a tote bag to carry his sociology books. i want him to look like he would give the warmest, comfiest hugs and be friend shaped

binah!! this one was the most challenging, trying to find the right place for the colors - to not use too little or too much yellow. i still dont think i got it right but this is as close as im getting. long face, long nose, siren-ish eyes.. messed up in the head bird lady that speaks like hannibal! i also dont think a dress really suits her so i opted for wide pants and a fancy black button up .. maybe angela styled her, who knows. also black fingertips which is a trait i like to give the arbiters (including an oc).. just my own little consistency thing i like to do :)

hi grandpa! ok for hokma i dont think the changes are that big? i gave him O shaped legs and his sword thing i turned into a walking cane, gave him a vest (didnt want to opt for a corset but i think he would enjoy the back support for proper posture) . also gave him a mild gradient from darker gray to lighter gray, since he IS the gray part of the ABC trio. gave him salt and pepper hair and an older face. forgot to draw it, but i wanted to give him a silicone tip for the sword so it doesnt dull out, which he can take off when recieving guests

honorary mention to go along with the angelica i mentioned with roland, i mildly changed up her twin(k) brother. i gave argalia and angie the same hair but mirrored, his a bit more curly and hers a bit more spikey, his face a bit more edgy, hers a bit rounder and kinder. not much else to say here, i liked his design as is, but wanted to add him here :)

[agentisclickbait]

some wir redesigns (?)

not to say i don't like the canon designs, i just thought this'll be fun ^_^

silly stuff under the cut

FYI: most lf these r based off concept art!! i thought it'd be neat

ralph: i honestly dunno what i was thinking 4 his design,,,idk i was just looking at some concept art where he was sillier and non-human. i guess he's kinda like the beast from beauty and the beast (appearance wise?). def has retractable claws n teeth, you know the drill. fun fact; his shirt's graphic is based off that one version of him that has a bunch of spikes !!

felix: SMALL MAN. that's all. i wanted him to look cutesy for no exact reason. i might have made him look a bit child-like??? GCJNTCNGCHTD MY BAD !!! both him n ralph don't have that many colors, as their game is 8 bit, low color count, yk??

sergeant calhoun: she was already perfect as is 😇 just a tad more simple armor and she has her hair dyed blonde!! don't ask how that works lol,,,i probably should have left her a natural blonde,,,

vanellope: THE CUTIE EVER!!! not many changes as i already love her <333 /platonic i thought it'd be cute if she was kinda buggy,,,because she's a glitch,,,,game bug,,,she was almost eaten by cybugs,,,,u see the picture lol. love her !!

youre (not so) daily reminder that break the internet is NOT canon in my soul. fuck you disney.