#i said probably twice

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[jessebutchman]

i should probably accept ill probably never be a very good artist but god😭😭😭

[laurents-secret-diary]

touched up one of the other sketches ( ´ ꒳ ` )

[13eyond13]

you ever think about how Misa's lack of intelligence and the way she lets her emotions impulsively dictate her actions was kinda constantly made the butt of the joke in DN, yet she genuinely outlived all the dudes and dudettes who were always scoffing at her stupidity. Somehow this is even better to me in that she wasn't even trying to outlive Light and didn't have any particularly high regard for her own life, so it's not due to her secretly being the best strategist of them all intentionally either... Regardless of the author's intent behind it I like that it pokes some holes in their constant smug assertions that you must have the very highest IQ to be the last guy standing in the murder notebook game

[meamiki]

many mirabelle’s for mirabelle's birthday :]

happy birthday to mirabelle !!!!!!

[luna-loveboop]

Ok so Wild and Wars are going together in the dungeon right? And that's great for them (maybe), but I ALSO want to talk about how Time and Four are going together!!

Because of THIS

(from doodles pt.3-link (heh))

Most of us have seen this before I think- and I've seen people saying they want confirmation on if it's Time saying 'you never cease to impress me little one' or not. The older doodles are still said to be canon- so I ALSO would like confirmation on it.

Also there's this ask from a bit ago!

The ask mentioned Time knowing about the four sword- and Jojo didn't correct them or say otherwise, and said most have confided in him. So I think it's reasonable to assume Time knows Four's secret from the doodle. And I want to see it in the story!!! and they're going together in the dungeon! (with Wind too of course!!)

also small brag that I guessed and said months ago that I wanted Time and Four to go together. They have Wind too, and I am VERY excited bc I wanted to see them together and now they ARE fhxvfgxgdgd

Obviously we don't know what Jojo's planning, and I have no idea if this will come up or not. But it'd be really cool wouldn't it?

Art by Jojo @linkeduniverse au

:)

[1-800-i-ship-it]

- VICTOR ASKS YURI IF HE WANTS HIM TO BE A BOYFRIEND TO HIM??? THIS IS CANON?????

- VICTOR GIVES YURI A BOYFRIEND HUG BEFORE HE PERFORMS???? THE PRESS EATS IT UP???

- YURI GETS MOTIVATJON DURING HIS PERFORMANCE FROM TRYNA SEDUCE VICTOR???

- VICTOR APPLIES CHAPSTICK DIRECTLY TO YURI’S LIPS WITH HIS FINGER???? VICTOR THINKS TO HIMSELF THAT YURI IS BEAUTIFUL????

- YURI BASICALLY CONFESSES THAT VICTOR IS THE MAIN INSPIRATION FOR HIS THEME OF LOVE???

is this reality holy shit…im literally not even halfway through the show

[lovesickeros]

☆ i dream of embers

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes no au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.1k

The House of the Hearth is quiet — or, if you really wanted to be precise, the rats scuttling through the walls are working around the bubble you exist in. The children dare not tempt fates hand unless you asked for them by name, a contradiction. An order to the rules — they mustn't approach you with trivialities, but they must listen if you speak. Your words carry more weight than gold in this house, whether you know it or not.

A tenuous position.

You haven't done anything to earn their reverence, their almost acrid fear — but Arlecchino has. She wields her silver tongue with as much ease as her polearm, ensuring your care in her absence. Her devotion, her service, is felt in the warmth of her chambers, the silks she adorns you with, the bed so soft you feel as though you melt into it. A gift, a promise — a gilded cage need not be something undesirable.

You've grown used to the encumbrance of her presence, these days. The deep timbre of her voice, honeyed yet melting into something rougher, quieting into haunting silence as if she seeks not to disturb you. Dim candlelight is all that illuminates her broad frame as she slowly presses the door open and closed behind her, pallid skin streaked with darkening red, her bottom lip smeared with it like lipstick. There is a tension to her shoulders even when she sets aside her polearm, out of sight and out of mind, harsh lines on her face visible in the deep furrow of her thin brows.

Here, she let's the weariness settle deep into her bones — it's just the two of you, even if she hasn't acknowledged you at all. Still, it's a vulnerability she shows no other, even if that vulnerability is hidden behind layers of barbed wire and teeth.

You watch rather idly from the bed as she wets a cloth in a basin of water, the bed creaking beneath you as your feet sink into the plush rug beneath. You know from experience that trying to help her is like trying to soothe a wild dog, but your knuckles brush over the sharp line of her cheek anyway, free hand stealing the soaking cloth from her hands when her jaw flexes and tenses beneath the pads of your fingers.

It is only then that she looks down at you, eyes as sharp as blades yet so indescribably warm — like a flame licking at your skin, burning so deep you feel it linger for weeks after. Arlecchino is not soft, far from it — but she blunts her jagged edges for you anyway, brushes her lips against your knuckles and allows you a moment of adoration. Carves her worship bone deep in the ghost of her touch against your lower back as she leans down, let's you wash away the blood certainly not her own, never blinking as if you'd simply up and leave if she stopped looking at you for even the smallest moment.

You are well aware she is caging you in. You let her.

Though she is still stiff as a board up to the moment you set the washcloth over the side of the basin, her jaw flexing again, a moment of consideration given. She is not used to soft and brittle things, though — not used to touch that does not lead to steel at her throat, in her gut, carving out softness like a butcher carves up meat, section by section.

But this affliction of affection is stronger than the discomfort, at times.

You almost half consider letting her take the room and have a night of proper rest, but she is faster than you — a calloused hand tilts your head back, half lidded eyes glinting beneath the weight of exhaustion, her thumb firm against your bottom lip. She could kill you without even blinking, you are aware, but she is nothing but careful with her touch — not soft, not Arlecchino, but there is adoration in her touch. Like thumbing a locket portrait, trying to imprint their features into memory by touch alone.

Her touch is fleeting, but the warmth lingers long after — you don't need to be touching to feel the weight of her attention. She stokes the flames of the dying fire, has one of the children bring a fresh pot of tea, lingers even when she doesn't have to. You're sure her desk in her office is far more comfortable to work at, but she'd crammed a small desk into the room anyway, stayed even long after you fell asleep most nights. You never did get to stay up long enough to notice her slip in beside you, nor wake up early enough to find her there with you, but the heat lingers — she leaves breakfast at your bedside table, a small note of affection if she's feeling particularly sappy. Even when you don't see her, she makes sure you feel her presence however she can.

Neither of you need to speak to express it. The silence is..oddly comfortable, filled by the shift of paper or scratch of a pen, the clink of a cup or crackle of fire. It's a little too easy to get lost in watching her work, masking a smile whenever she glanced back at you with a question on the tip of her tongue that goes unsaid.

It's better that way, you both think. The silence was best left undisturbed — as if trying to break it would be like breaking the mirror to each others lives. You don't busy yourself in the affairs of the House of the Hearth, and she doesn't make you. It's better that way, too. Maybe that makes you naive, blind even, to the bodies at her feet piled so high she could drown, but you don't want to give up this fragile tranquility.

So you let the dull scratch of a pen lull you to sleep, try not to smile too much when a hand reaches out in uncertainty to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheek with so much affection it makes it hard to breathe.

It's a tenuous balance, but come the next night you will wipe the blood from her cheek again and she will care for you the only way she knows how — distant service.

And when you wake up to an empty bed, warm despite the fires long burned out, you'll still feel her presence in the allure of a warm drink and pastries at your bedside, a note tucked beneath the plate.

Just like the day before, and just as you expect tomorrow to be. But one day you'll gently pull apart the barbed wire and be let in — not today, no, but someday. It's a slow process, but you're patient enough to wait — and when she let's you in, you'll tend to the scars that it left like you've always done.

One step at a time, one day.

[commander-revan]

So, super upsetting and not fun question...does Tomura know Twice is dead?

I feel like he has to. It's Toga's main motivation for joining in the war, and I'm sure Dabi or at least Spinner would have told him, but we never see Shigaraki react to learning about it. And AFO was fucking with his mind, trying to take control, in those months leading up to this battle. Does he think Twice just got captured like Compress? (If the League even knows Compress is alive, since last any of them saw he was blasting chunks of himself away, sacrificing himself for them.)

But, Tomura said he needs to be a hero for all of them, like Twice is still around. And if AFO was withholding that information from him, that would be a reveal that could hurt Deku's chances of saving him.

Either way, I love seeing how much Tomura loves the League. I need all of them to make it out of this alive, and heal together like the fucked up family they are.

[lesbianspeedy]

green arrow artists ranked least fav to fav GO

CAVEAT BEFORE I BEGIN: this is ranked entirely on the MAIN PENCILLER artist listed in each issue i took from, however a LOT of comic art is make or break with inkers and colourists. so this is by no meaning me saying (x) artist sucks/ is amazing on their own or whatever. it just. is what it is. i just frankly cant be bothered to factor each inker into each ranking.

second caveat: frankly i dislike some of these artists as people, but ive tried not to include that in my ranking, and im purely going from how they draw ollie

third and final caveat: this is JUST based on their ollies. a lot of these artists draw other things (WOMEN) horribly or other things AMAZING (layouts/backgrounds/pinups) and if it was ranked on that they'd probably be lower. this is entirely based on how much i like looking at their ollie/how much it feels like Ollie tm to me.

and here is the tier list maker i made for anyone to make their own!

[shatterdome-underscore]

Oh wow you guys were not exaggerating about Kabru. Flashing back to something Laios said thirty seconds before but with the happy white fuzz filter, immediately going "either I was wrong and they didnt rob us or they dont remember, either way its fine ❤️" to his party, blushing and going "this is so much worse than I imagined" while Shuro is actively trying to kill Laios, not even flinching over the "why were you eating a brick" thing? this little dude is a freak

[yujeong]

I've made my fascination with filth and how it connects to VP loud and clear at least three times on my blog, but I seriously can't state enough how much it occupies my mind. There's just something really powerful about someone not only being not grossed out by your filth, but, on the contrary, being attracted to it. Pulled into it. Turned on by it. That's what happens to Vegas at the safehouse. Pete is at the worst state he's ever been (debatable, since we don't know much about his past), and yet it's at these moments Vegas starts to become obsessed with him. I love how it's kind of subtle in its presentation. After all, KinnPorsche The Series is a very polished and "clean" show. Everyone is dressed nicely and the fight scenes never get too dirty or too bloody. The sex scenes never get too messy, either. And yet, at the safehouse, Pete is allowed to show parts of his filth to the audience. His hair is greasy, his skin is feverish, his lips are parched, there's black under his eyes, his voice changes, not even mentioning the dirt on him and the blood trickling down his chest. The rest is implied: the bad breath, the yellow teeth, the smell, the digestive problems he 100% has. What's implied is more important, because it's those filthy parts of Pete that Vegas embraces with fervor: he kisses a pill into Pete's unwashed mouth, and he eats Pete's unwashed ass. I love thinking about the juxtaposition of internal vs external filth as well, because to me, the VP arc kind of flips them on their head: Pete's filth is, as I explained above, external. He's filthy in appearance, in body, while Vegas' filth is internal, in his mind, in his heart. By the end of the show, Vegas ends up with external filth (another thing I've posted about that got some mixed reactions lol) that he has to find how to navigate his life with, and this time, it's Pete who embraces it. Don't get me wrong here. Both of these men have internal filth. Pete isn't some innocent, pure angel and he knows it, and Vegas does, too. Self-loathing just doesn't let him remember it most of the time. I'm going to end this post with this screenshot, which is probably one of my favourite VP moments (besides the sex itself), and that's because it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever witnessed on my screen. Look at the pores on their skin, at Vegas' bags under his eyes, at Pete's wet hair above his ear, at the stubble on Pete's chin and Vegas' upper lip. Look at them being filthy and at home. Aren't they gorgeous?

[toskarin]

You are given a magic wand that, whenever used, adds 1 million dollars to your bank account. However, in exchange, a random artist you like abandons their former creative pursuits and becomes a passionate member of a Imagine Dragons cover band. What do you do?

I'll frame it as a collective mental health improvement thing and tap the wand on the table twice. they seem happy this way, and I must make this great sacrifice... for them...

[faunandfloraas]

Look, I don't believe in preferential treatment, it's not right.... BUT ☝️ if we're gonna have changbin saying sydney is skz's second hometown I just think maybe australia could not be charged things like 60+ dollars shipping.... or 75 dollars for a normal album at the most prominent music retailer when other places pay 15-20 for the same thing.... lol

[drpicklesart]

they are going to mehnahnaroo

[astralhope]

Yuma's unshakable trust in Astral makes me cry every time