#im keeping these in the tags but um

[sideblogdotjpeg]

@purplecladmerchant hi hello happy naddtreat !!!!!!! heres some uncensored zirks for you!!!!!!

for @naddpodgifting (thank u for organizing!!!)

[wasyago]

tango doodles

first you make up a guy and then you struggle to draw him correctly

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show

[dragonfruitflamb3]

Perks of having 2 months worth of back log means I can make dumb comic with no guilt( (Lies. There's still guilt)

Hence, human Sebastian and melonReader being idiots (I think it'd be funny if melonReader doesn't take those 3 special words as serious as Seb, to them they're kinda "just words", but Seb is like. "Wait till marriage?????" serious about it.)

I like screwing with keeping my sketch layer, idk. Gosh I forget how fun drawing mini comics is guh if only the full fish version was as easy as the Regular Dude™ version

[oc-loving]

which oc has a big age gap with their sibling(s)?

[conceptofjoy]

[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.

[sonknuxadow]

wishing that the hype for sonic 3 would just die already because im tired of hearing about it vs knowing that the suffering wouldnt truly be over because theyre talking about making a fourth movie . hell on earth

[crazy-pe3p]

i dont know how tumblr will take this

or trafficblr/dw tumblr at all

um anyways grians world au!! just felt like merging my interests

feel free to question my choices.....

[robots-are-kinda-hot]

coraline anomaly au stuff. mostly hands. don’t judge them, I had no reference for any of them lmao

As for the doll, I like to think that Other Reader made a Sans one originally to lure him, but then after he gets to know them better they get to know each other, Sans asked them to make one of themselves. (he may or may not cuddle with it to help him sleep. shhhh, it’s a secret.)

enjoy while I attempt to finish writing things for this au. just a small thing (that probably will uh. not be small when I’m finally done with it) for an ask and also MAYBE something to expand on how Sans got a doll of Other Reader :]

original anomaly by @htsan!

[se-run]

me when my boyfriend is the prettiest girl in the world

[unexpectedbrickattack]

fucking Help Him

[thel1ghtningthief]

⚡Cabin 1 in the CDVerse🏛

This is quite long, so it's under a cut!

Also, do y'all want more cabin descriptions or the Zeus kid's profiles next?

Overview: Zeus is the god of the sky, lightning, thunder, law and order. As a result, many of his children have a strong sense of justice and don't take acts they perceive as unjust without a fight. This can lead to children of Zeus seeming standoffish and overly dramatic.

Exterior: The exterior of the cabin is mostly similar to the PJO and HOO graphic novels, with a few changes. Zeus's cabin is the biggest of all the cabins. The cabin is built out of white marble, detailed with pillars and a dome shaped roof. The roof reflects the current weather of Camp Half-Blood, which means it is always either sunny, cloudy, or reflecting the gorgeous view of the night sky. There are 4 pillars on each wall, most spaced 5 feet apart. The entrance to the cabin is set back 5 feet from the beginning of the porch. There is one pillar on either side of the start of the stairs, and one pillars on either side of the door. The gable above the porch is detailed with an eagle, wings spread majestically, in the middle. Around the eagle the marble is carved in an olive branch pattern. The door to the cabin is made of polished bronze that shimmers with holographic lightning patterning the door. Above the door is a small bronze plaque with the number 1 on it.

Interior: Differentiating from canon, the Zeus cabin does have furniture. There are 6 pairs of bunk beds, with three on each side. The bunks are made of evergreen holm oak, and the frames are detailed with lightning bolts, eagles, and an olive leaf pattern. At the back middle of the cabin is the ten foot tall statue of Zeus, glaring imposingly and seemingly watching your every move. The ceiling follows the shape of the domed roof, with an enchanted mosaic showing a current storms from anywhere over the world. Beside the statue on the right sides is a desk, made of the same wood as the bunks. There is a vase, with scenes of Zeus defeating the Titans in the first Titanomachy. In the left corner beside the statue, there is a basic camp sleeping bag. By the sleeping bag, tucked under the caseless pillow, lays a picture of three kids. They look happy. There are marks on the floor leading back to the entrance. To the left of the entrance, there is a matching desk to the right back corner. The vase on this desk is missing. If you were to open the drawer of the desk, there would be a shattered vase and a ripped picture. If you put them back together, the vase would show Heracles' numerous victories, Zeus' proudest moments. The picture would show a woman, standing with her arm around a young girl and the other holding a newborn baby. The woman is looking dissapointedly at the girl, who is ignoring the camera in favour of looking sadly at her baby brother. You close the drawer. On top of the desk is a glass vase, some shriveled olive branch long forgotten crumbled and crushed down to the bottom. If you step back from the desk, the right side of the entrance has a ladder. If you climb the ladder, you would find yourself in the gable over the porch. It's small, with not a lot of room, as it's been stuffed full of extra belongings and clothes that were almost left on the ground during the last cabin inspection.

Vibe: Entering the Zeus cabin can feel a lot like entering a courtroom for the first time: intimidating. The interior of the cabin feels slightly more homey than the exterior, but with a giant statue of Zeus glaring at you from the moment you open the door, it's not the most welcoming place in camp. The cabin can feel suffocating, due to both the constant storm in the ceiling and the loaded history of the cabins most notorious inhabitants.

Details/Symbols: Obviously, there are tons of lighting and cloud motifs scattered everywhere, from carvings on the bunks, made of oak, to the pillars holding up the ceiling. There are several vases lining the walls filled with olive branch. The cabin always smells like it does just after it's rained.

Items: There aren't many notable items in the Zeus cabin, as most of the campers are younger and newer. The most notable item currently in the cabin is one of Zeus' lightning bolts (not the master bolt, obviously).

Traditions: As for the longest time there used to only be one child of Zeus, the campers of Cabin 1 don't have many traditions. The main one as of now is a weekly debate night, where the children of Zeus split into teams for a 'friendly' debate. However, it almost always ends in someone being struck by lightning... Another tradition, if it could be called that, is that every camper has or had a stuffed eagle or bull, most of them brought to camp before being claimed as a coincidence. Their final tradition is flying or climbing to the roof to their cabin to stargaze whenever one of their siblings is feeling down.

Bunks: There are three bunk beds on the side walls, each with two beds stacked on top of each other. The beds are made of evergreen holm oak, and the frames are detailed with an olive branch pattern. The foot board is engraved with the same image of an eagle as the gable over the entrance. The head board is carved with various lightning, sky, and cloud designs. The ladder to the second bunk is at the foot board of each bunk bed. The bottom bunk closest to the entrance on the left side belongs to Laodice Ebner. The bunk above that belongs to Theseus Shaw, the current head counselor. The set behind those two belong to Rex Fitzroy and Azure Sumner. The third set on the left wall belong to Cielo Katz and Jace Merino. The first set on the right wall belong to Oberon Stellato and Ravi Bahl. The bunk at the back right, closest to the Zeus statue on the bottom, belongs to Jason Grace, when he visits. Thalia Grace occasionally stays in the bunk above him

Current Inhabitants: The current head counselor is Theseus Shaw. The other campers are Laodice Ebner, Rex Fitzroy, Azure Sumner, Cielo Katz, Jace Merino, Oberon Stellato, Ravi Bahl, and occasionally Jason and Thalia Grace.

Reference Pictures:

These are both from the riordanverse wiki so I think they're official art, apologies if I'm wrong!

[neptunesailing]

hades art dump + some whiteboard doodles

[extantformoflife]

OHHHHHH the repeating theatre motif in isat.... fascinates me....

[stormypip7]

drew a martyn (i was just doing some anatomy practice..)

also 🐌.