#i think i will continue anyway

[stemmmm]

more people gotta try this shit where bill has not improved and will not change but he's just chilling so its fine probably. its great

[hinamie]

oversaturate

[bluegiragi]

the new in-house artist is kinda eye-catching...

early access + nsfw on patreon

[puppppppppy]

renaissance dogys

characters belong to @canisalbus

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[furfurtheferret]

Hey can i have a honest opinion on something?

A few moth ago i started the translation of a lore doc into french, this decision was mostly motivated by a want to do something for a fandom since i never finish my drawings/stories etc , but also to work my english (and make it usefull, i wanted to do something usefull). However now i kind of doubt the utility of it all... first cause ...it's not very intersting to read lmao but i've accepted that it would be more of an archive than anything really...meaningful?idk but also : the lore doc is basically a copy pasta of what's on the tweeter of the Creators (but translated obv), but that means that every link wont be accessible to all -> language barriers + twitter (i don't have it so it's already a problem for me when i can't acces the threads) but it also means that the lore is very limited and we miss every little interrations or quircks of the characters ...yknow, what's really interesting about lore. I think that the day to day actions of the characters are not as interesting as what makes them special....

Today i wanted i bit more of infos about a deal a character made , cause what i had was litteraly "This character made a deal with This character" WHAT KIND OF DEAL?? when i searched on the wiki fandom the entire day was written in great details and the deal was kind of way more horrifing than how it was presented on the doc (dude offered him "good things" o whatever in exchange OF THE LIFE OF HIS SON) and something just clicked in me... IS it really still worth it to work on this translation? If anyone want to learn the lore it wont be very interesting since it's not that developped and it's hard to find what you want unless you know who and when it was. I don't want to let down the OP (but at the same time they didn't really asked, i proposed to make it more accessible WICH IT ISN'T ANYWAY SO FUCK ME). And at the same time the wiki is well more spread, and detailed. What the document has in fast updates the wiki has it in details ... The only "bad"thing that i note on the wiki was that when i made that search for the deal, the page for the specific character was EMPTY on the french side, and a lot of pages aren't translated or even present in both version (AND I HATE THE ADDS IT MAKES IT UNREADABLE i hate it i hate it i hate it)... I really want to help but idk what to do, cause i would hate to let this unfinished

-----------

TLDR : dumb bitch started a useless translation, and could join the translation of a more usefull Wiki but don't want to let first project unfinished

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[right to left]

finally finished This Wip from Ever ago and so now i ask you ever look into another dudes eyes and suddenly want to do whatever he wants

[stellewriites]

soap

[kiwichils]

healing hands

[dailyeohkakyoin]

the crusaders do have a healer.

they don't like to talk about it.

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[tamagoneko]

BONUS ART!!

the luau scene 🥥🌴🌺🍍

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham Protects Her Own

“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better. 

Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul. 

Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had. 

Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang. 

“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help. 

[seefasterdraws]

from the homumiko mines

[lizaisdrawing]

Mr. Wally

[nhura]

Life is too short.

[ my art ] [ twitter ]

(detail + ratio rambling under the cut >_>)

This is one of those "I need a break between my ten other illustrations, let me do a lil sketchy sketch :D" that got too ambitious etc. etc. I never want to see the color red again" moments. BUT!

I really, really like to explore Ratio's viscerality and what's happening between his brain and his nerves, like... all of this thorough control and discipline and he still has to breathe and react to himself and his surroundings, you know? His accomplishments are insane for "his age"* but he's going to run out of "age" at some point! His ambitions are so far reaching that he's not worried about getting doctorate degree Number Nine! Rather, his efforts are pointed outwards, into the universe, for the universe. As you know.

Speaking of his degrees, I had a half thought a while ago that we've seen him with two types of laurel pins.

One is him in his suuuuuper cute mother goose avatar (three leaves) and the other is the hat he's wearing everywhere else (eight leaves).

The thought was, "Aww, what if they're like commemorative pins counting the number of his degrees or whatever :)". Literally only because there's eight in the current one. This is kind of silly because then you'd HAVE to have an obscene number of degrees even for a normal person for your leaf pin to start looking like a laurel in the first place so scratch that BUT it's cute to think that it's still academic regalia. Something something I work in higher ed myself and it's like... it's like that.

The university goldsmith appreciates the job security.

I REMEMBER WHY I BROUGHT THAT UP. FOLLOWING the fantasy where more leaves = more knowledge!, in summary, even though Ratio seems to be a little beyond trying to get a prize every time he learns something now. But he does want to Keep Going. He can only Keep Going.

So I drew him in a bathtub full of an uncountable amount of gold leaves looking at the camera with an indescribable expression born from a hunger that will never be satiated lol DETAIL SHOT!

*Referenced only vaguely in a comment in the context of astonishment, but it could have easily have been "woah he's accomplished so much for his age (young)" as it could be "woah he looks good for his age (older)". There is no canon age and even then, reconciling standardized system time versus planetary time versus "does his particular breed of lizard human have the same lifespan as tumblr user nhura?" is a losing game for everyone involved! Here's what I think: I think he started going grey in his early twenties, whatever that means in spacefantasygame, and that that's very cute on him.

Do YOU think Ratio would be tempted by immortality???? Or would he MIND HIS BUSINESS