#i'm open to suggestions

[personwho1s]

[loverboybrightsideghost]

do you think we could get the menswear guy to do a fake roast clark for his ill-fitting suits. is this anything

[opbackgrounds]

I appreciate Oda giving the most stereotypical pirate laugh to a musician when a lot of its fame is rooted in a famous piratey song

[sapphire-rb]

Malroth clothing compilation!

Dragon Armor:

This one I saw in some fanart and it looks really good on him. Accidentally loaded the black one instead of the purple one oops

I like this armor.

Builder workwear in honour of @to-many-obbsetions92's drawing

The evil armor set

Oh no! D:

DQII set.

Extra, this one was a mistake on my part

Also while this is going on the background is like:

How an average day in my game looks like.

[badgirlcovention]

More of the femme werewolf x butch vampire AU. This AU has me in a vice grip rn. Pls ignore my poorly drawn animals, I'm still practicing on drawing animals.

This incorporates some of my headcanons concerning werewolves- after transforming back from their bipedal wolf form, they retain some of their hair, especially in areas like their elbows, chest/abdomen and legs. Luz loves it because Amity has ridiculously soft fur.

[ziptiesnfries]

Season's Beatings

Read part 1 here - Box Bastards masterpost

CWs: beating, drunk whumper, pet whump, noncon touch, creepy whumper

The basement is chilly as usual, but for once, Lynx isn’t cold. They’re curled up in their pet bed, bundled in their new red blanket. Their food and water bowls are full, and they haven’t seen Kennedy in hours. He went out to have Christmas dinner with some friends, which means Lynx won’t see him until tomorrow morning. The promise of solitude is an even better gift than the blanket—although they’re not complaining about either.

Lynx has never celebrated Christmas before. At their last owner’s house, they stayed chained to the hot radiator in the living room, watching Christmas movies on TV while the humans did their little rituals. Everyone in those movies, even the meanest, shittiest people, seemed to be nicer on Christmas. Lynx never really believed that a specific day of the year could make someone nicer; that was just made up for TV. But they’re not sure how else to explain Kennedy’s attitude today. He fed them three meals, didn’t dig his fingers into the sores on their arms, didn’t even snap at them. He treated them more like a regular pet than a punching bag.

Of course, they’re not getting their hopes up. He’ll be back to normal tomorrow. Maybe he’ll even take away their blanket and bed again and leave them freezing in the corner of the basement. But tonight, they don’t have any new wounds, and they drift off to sleep warm and content.

-

The basement door slams open, and Lynx jolts awake. Their heart pounds to the sound of footsteps beating down the stairs. They’re upright before they can even think about it, pushing off the blanket as they scramble out of bed. The lights flicker on, searing their eyes. “Get over here, mutt,” Kennedy snaps.

They stagger to their feet, still squinting. Suddenly Kennedy’s fingers hook through their collar, yanking them off their feet. “I’m not in the fucking mood,” he hisses. His breath reeks of alcohol. Lynx cringes away. “Get on your knees.”

He drops them, and they let their knees hit the floor, tensing their stomach instinctively. Sure enough, his foot drives into their gut and sends them sprawling backwards. The next kick catches them in the ribs, and they curl up to protect themself as the blows rain down. “Son of a bitch,” Kennedy seethes. “That fucking asshole—” The next kick hits Lynx in the stomach, forcing the air from their lungs.

The kicks let up sooner than expected. Lynx takes the opportunity to catch their breath. They remain curled on the ground, arms wrapped around their torso, bracing themself for more.

Kennedy’s catching his breath, too, panting hard. “Ah, shit.” He kneels down, his hand sliding into Lynx’s hair. They flinch, expecting to be yanked upright. Instead, his fingers scratch against their scalp. He sighs, and they hesitantly peek up at him. “Those guys piss me off sometimes,” he mutters. “You didn’t do anything. You’re a good pet, Spike.”

They raise their eyebrows, but stay quiet. He’s drunk, they think to themself. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Their skin crawls as he pets them, but as long as he’s giving them a break, they don’t want to set him off again. Lynx stays put, resting their head on the carpet.

“You’ve been so good today,” Kennedy mumbles, continuing to pet their hair. “I shouldn’t have kicked you, since it’s Christmas and all. I was just a little mad after hanging out with the guys, that’s all …” They stiffen as he drags their head into his lap. They try to squirm away, but his grip tightens, pulling at their hair. He doesn’t seem mad about it, though, so they reluctantly stay still. “I promised myself I wouldn’t hit you today,” he continues. “I was giving you a break, as long as you didn’t act like a little bastard, and you’re being so good …”

He cups their face, his thumb stroking their jaw, and a shudder runs down their spine. They’re just about to pull away when a shaft of light catches their eye. Hesitantly, they follow it up the wall, all the way to the top of the stairs. The door is open. Kennedy, in his drunken stupor, left the basement door open.

Lynx’s heart flutters. They take a deep breath and brace themself against nausea before nuzzling into Kennedy’s leg. “Aww,” he coos, laughing. “Are you tired? Is that why you’re being so cute?”

“Yeah,” they grumble, “you woke me up.” They have to be careful. Too much attitude, and he’ll get pissed off. Not enough, and he’ll sense that something’s up. They have to keep him distracted.

“Oh, you poor thing.” He sounds mocking, but only a little. His fingers stroke skin-crawlingly through their hair, catching on knots. “Want me to rock you back to sleep?”

“Fuck off.” Lynx slowly pushes themself upright, pressing their cheek into his shirt. It makes them feel sick, drowning in the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body. They’d rather freeze to death than fall asleep on him. They swallow down bile as they rest their head on his chest, faking a yawn. Now, they’re in a better position, leaning sideways to rest against Kennedy’s chest. 

He chuckles, hands sliding up to support their back. They halfway suppress a shudder, but Kennedy’s used to that—enjoys it, even. “I’ll never understand why you don’t just let yourself be a lapdog,” he murmurs, breath ghosting against their hair, palms sliding down their waist. “You’ve got the looks for it, when you’re not acting like a little asshole …” His pinky brushes the bare skin beneath their shirt.

Lynx’s stomach riots, and their patience evaporates all at once. They shove Kennedy as hard as they can. He tumbles backwards, and they just barely glimpse the slow, shocked expression on his face before they slam the heel of their hand into his nose. He grunts in pain, and they scramble over him, slipping away from his blindly-grabbing hands as they sprint for the stairs.

They take the steps two at a time, using the handrail to haul themself up. They hear Kennedy growl behind them, maybe at the foot of the stairs already, but they don’t look back. Their feet pass the threshold, and then they grab the door and slam it, fumbling with the deadbolt. Not a second later, Kennedy’s weight slams into it. “Spike!” he shouts. His fist pounds incessantly against the wood, jolting Lynx’s body with each strike. “You fucking bastard, open up!”

The doorknob rattles. Lynx backs away and watches it cautiously. It doesn’t budge. Their heart pounds as they fumble with the chain at the top of the door. The motions are unfamiliar, clumsy; they’ve never locked a door before. They’ve fought and spat at people all their life, but they’ve never done something this brazenly stupid before. They watch the door with amazement, and for all its trembling and shuddering with the force of Kennedy’s struggles, it holds true. He’s locked in.

“Spike!” The pounding continues as Lynx brings themself to attention. They’re out. They need to … they need to … fuck, what should they even do? “Spike, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t let me out right this second, I’m putting you down!” Lynx unbuckles their collar and tosses it on the ground with a satisfying thud. They’re so glad Kennedy never bothered with the padlocked one he always threatened them with. “I’m serious! First thing tomorrow, you’re going to the vet and I’m making them euth—euthan—” Kennedy’s threats become background noise. They consider their thin sweatpants and tank top, and then glance down the hall. “I’m going to kill you!”

Kennedy’s voice recedes as they make their way to the foyer and glance out the window. There’s snow on the ground; of course, it’s Christmas, it’s probably freezing as fuck out there—not that they’ve been outside recently. They have to do some scavenging. Quickly.

The screaming from the basement keeps Lynx on task as they root through Kennedy’s closet. His clothes are too big for them; they have to roll up the sleeves and pant legs, and cinch the belt tight. What the hell do humans wear out in the cold? Hat, gloves? Lynx isn’t used to it. They grab everything they can put on. They find Kennedy’s wallet in his coat pocket and strip it for cash; they’re not making that mistake again. Kennedy’s stench is thick on the scarf as Lynx wraps it around their neck, pulling it up to their face.

“Spike!” The door almost sounds like it’s splintering now. “Let me out, you stupid, evil little son of a—”

A frigid wind blows into the house as Lynx opens the front door. Just for a moment, they stand at the threshold. The cold, dry air stings their nose as they drag it into their lungs. They step out onto the porch. The fresh snow on the railings sparkles under harsh floodlights and gentler, decorative string lights. Lynx has never noticed the snow before. It’s pretty.

They shut the door behind them, and Kennedy’s protests go silent.

-

Box Bastards tag list: @spectral-whumpy-writer @transgender-scout

[lightyakami]

hdgfkdg i had these fun ideas for celebrating the final chapter of stay but am slowly encountering the fact that i maybe forgot i was disabled(tm) and wildly overexerted myself yesterday so leaving the house may not be in the cards BUT i will persevere and find something

[marc--chilton]

house md wcau names so far

house - mousebite (when living in plainsclan)/house (as a loner)

cuddy - codstar, formerly codsnarl (for her ferociousness in battle!)

stacy - stillsight ; observant, can cut you down with words as easily as she could with her claws. but she's chill :)

chase - robinchaser ; not only VERY close to his actual name, but also belies his. i can't really say airheadedness. his.... kenlike demeanor. sure.

wilson - .... wilson. he's a kittypet so he doesn't get a warrior cats name. maybe codstar gives him one, informally, as a gesture of his acceptance into plainsclan to show he will always be welcome even if he never truly leaves his twolegs. in which case.... hmm. i haven't thought that far ahead yet

[corrupted-unicorn]

how does one go about researching historical art

as in, "i want to try drawing ancient egypt / greece / mayan / aztec / medieval europe / etc art but i want to do research and go beyond the obligatory google search so i don't end up with merely surface knowledge"

[skeletor9000-blog]

IM SO TIRED OF SOULS LIKES!!!

Black Myth Wukong is comingg out soon, and it looks badass but it's being touted as a souls-like and I'm so sick of them! I do not want to be 2-shot by bosses anymore, I do not want 30% of my gameplay being waiting for opportunities to hit a boss, I wanna be badass, I wanna spin 100 times a second and decimate a room full of mobs, I want to punch the ground and cause a nuke then do it again, I wanna slice twice in tthe air and shoot magic rays that actualy deal damage instead of being shit against any normal mob.

Please devs please please let the gamer feel badass again instead of a small piece in a big world. there is no hope! There's a time and place for Souls-likes and by god we have gone past that. I don't wanna parry anymore, let me be dante, let me be Bayonetta, let me be Raiden, IM BEGGING

I WANT THIS

and THIS

AND THIS

WHY ARE GAMES SO ASHAMED OF BEING POWER FANTASIES REEEEEEEEE

[chronicbeans]

Okay I've decided to actually do a Hazbin rewrite, mostly if characters and tiny world building to fill in some plot holes, instead of the entirety of the show's plot.

The things I'm going to start on first are worldbuilding and Alastor, because those two are probably going to take the longest. Alastor's going to take long because I actually want to like, you know... RESEARCH New Orleans culture and Voudou in order to make a more accurate and tasteful representation of it. I can probably guarantee that it is not going to be 100% accurate because A. I am not from New Orleans and have never been from their, and B. I don't practice Voudou, have never met somebody who has, and have never been invited to. However, unlike Viv, I am completely open to criticism and even any input anybody might have on where to find accurate information about it. Especially from people who do practice, because I want to do this religion justice with all the bad representation it gets.

(In case anyone is curious about what I have so far so they can give feedback, I currently plan to have his mother practice it and use charms to help bring healing and good luck, while Alastor attempts to use it to bring harm to those he deems worthy only to get tricked by a member of the Von Eldritch family. Basically, he believed he was practicing the darker side of Voudou everyone outside of the religion kept talking about [aka the stereotypical dark magic version that ISN'T true], but in actuality, it was the Von Eldritch Family tricking him into worshipping them instead. A bit like the stigma and stereotypes of the religion, ironically, caused the downfall of someone trying to use that religion for harm. After he goes to Hell, he either completely throws away the practice or uses the charms he remembers his mother making to both heal allies in battle and remind himself of her.)

[disinherited-dornishman]

Real talk, how come none of you cowards have made a Rhaenyra/Alicent/Criston threesome smut fic yet? The three single most attractive people in the whole show, with the narrative framework necessary for some delicious angst and catharsis basically handed to you on a platter? Greens this, Blacks that. Like go get yourselves some passion in y'all lives. I'm ready to write this bitch myself, real shit.

[wandixx]

I had a might need to draw cape with stars and well, Miss Martian was a great model.

[playingwithstarsabove]

I'm starting to realize a pattern with all the manga I've been reading:

Drifting Dragons- Cooking

Delicious in Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi- Cooking

Sweetness and Lightning-Cooking

Our Dining Table- Cooking

Newly bought One Piece Shokugeki no Sanji- Cooking

....Apparently I'm more drawn to cooking manga, I guess.

[sweetchinmusickick]

Hi, sexy 😉

So... I might have an odd question.

I just need you to either confirm or deny if your comrades have posted filth of themselves on the internet (including you). Perhaps as a dare? Or simply because they're perverted.

Come on, work with me here 😚

Sexy, huh? Ngl, I like the sound of that 😏 What's in it for me tho? Cause I definitely got a juicy answer to that, kitty 😌

Coming into my inbox like

[key-aka-daddy]

Hello guys!! I want to start writing fanfiction here on Tumblr, I will list my fandoms and feel free to request Fanfiction for these fandoms, there will also be a list of stuff I will and wont write.

My fandoms:

Good Omens

Takin' over the asylum (there really needs to be more fics about it)

Harry potter (I do not condone JK Rowling as a genderfluid person)

There are more but I cant remember them right now.

Things I will write:

Fluff

Age regression (this is a safe space)

Angst

Hurt/comfort

One shots

Anything SFW

Sh fics (in a way that the person is healing and moving on from it)

Things I wont write:

NSFW

Age play

Hurt no comfort

Abuse

Nothing non consensual (consent is sexy)

Ships I will write for:

Aziracrow

Nina x maggie

Campbell x recording desk (this is a joke)

Harry x Ginny

Ron x Hermione

Eddie x Francine

(These dont have to be romantic, they can be platonic, feel free to request any other pairing from the fandoms listed, I might write them)

I will also write head cannons for characters.