#its so good but alas i am not

[dandelioncore]

Absolute opposite vibes from this blog but I just started playing blasphemous and hoo boy is this going to test my anger management skills

[hinamie]

noir

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[shorthaltsjester]

Imogen Temult, Exaltant Hope of the Red Storm

Heroes and Monsters by Penny & Sparrow // Critical Role Campaign 3

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Cannot Unsee. Cannot Unknow.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[raineandsky]

If you're taking requests, could I request a hero x villain thing where the villain wakes up in the hero's house, totally confused, and he tries to ambush her when she arrives with food? (She has telekinetic abilities, which helps with a lot. I imagine her house would look like the Burrow from Harry Potter - a bunch of things fixing themselves and all that.) But if you aren't taking requests, feel free to ignore this. I've got plenty of your lovely stuff to read. :)

im sorry this is so late!! thank you for the request, i enjoyed this one :)

When the villain finally regains consciousness, the first thing he notices is the scratchy blanket thrown over him. The second thing he notices, when he opens his eyes, is that the blanket is not his. Nor is the house he’s in.

It’s a world away from his home downtown—a low coffee table sits next to the little sofa he’s on, decorated with thick books that have clearly never been read and a blue vase that’s collecting more dust than flowers. The low afternoon sun streams in through wide windows and envelopes the table and chairs in the corner in a warm orange, the speckled colours of a light catcher draping over the woollen rug nearby. The villain wishes he lived in a place like this, but he’d never dream of being civilian enough to need it.

He has no recollection of getting here. Where was he last? Did he get entangled with a civilian somewhere? What the hell did he do to end up here?

The villain is so caught up in scraping his memory for a clue that he doesn’t hear the door squeaking open behind him. What he does hear is the gentle “oh, good, you’re—”

Now, panic is not a good look on a villain. But frankly, waking up in an unfamiliar home and being faced with a stranger that is approaching from behind gives the villain some instincts that’ve probably saved his life more than once.

He lurches up from the sofa with a snarl, earning a rather startled yelp from the newcomer and toppling the coffee table vase to the floor. The blanket he’d attempted to throw off in his attack has curled itself around him like a snake, and he gets no further than the back of the sofa before it trips him over.

“Oh, sorry!” the person says lightly. “That was a little more intense than I intended, but I suppose I wasn’t expecting you to leap at me either.”

The villain, trying not to let onto his embarrassment at this turn of events, glances up. A hero, one he kind of recognises, is holding a tray upside-down and looking back at him. No, actually, the tray isn’t upside-down. The villain is just on the floor.

“That won’t help you heal,” she continues with a short laugh. “Come on, lets get you back on the sofa.”

The villain goes to throw himself at her with nothing but his nails, but the blanket is wrapped around him unnaturally tight. The hero settles on the armchair opposite as it curls around his shoulders, hefting him to his feet before shoving him back onto the sofa.

“What the hell is going on?” is all the villain can think to say.

The hero smiles brightly, unbothered, and sets her tray on the coffee table between them before turning her attention to her shattered vase. “You were a little worse for wear by the time I got to you,” she offers unhelpfully. “Honestly, I was a little worried. You’ve been out for some time.”

The villain watches blankly as the vase picks itself up off the floor, hovering a few inches off the ground to meticulously piece itself back together. None of it would’ve clicked if he didn’t clock the hero staring at it like it’ll disappear the moment she looks away.

“You’re telekinetic,” he says flatly.

The hero turns back to him as the vase sets itself back on the coffee table. Its perfect presentation slips as the hero lets go of it, several pieces sliding out of formation and dropping to the table. “Maybe.”

She gives him a coy smile. The blanket still has a tight hold of him, keeping him sat on the much too comfortable sofa. The sun is moving, throwing some of her face into wild yellows that brighten her face more than a hero deserves. God, the villain hates all of this.

“You got a bad wound in your battle.” The hero gestures to her side vaguely. “You need time to recover, so I would suggest you stay here until you’re better.”

“I’d much rather be at home than trapped here with you,” the villain snaps.

“Oh.” The hero tilts her head in a way that the villain knows isn’t genuine. “Well, you shouldn’t move around too much. Do you have someone at home who can look after you?”

The bitter silence that follows brings another smug smile to her lips. “Then you’ll stay here,” she says after a moment. “My house will make sure of it.”

“Can you tell your house to lay off? Your blanket is trying to strangle me.”

The hero laughs brightly, and as she does the blanket’s vice-like grip loosens slightly. “I brought you some breakfast, by the way.” She gestures to the tray, which the villain now notices has a bowl of soup and several pieces of bread on it. “It’s proven difficult to feed someone that’s unconscious, so please do make sure you eat something.”

She gets to her feet before the villain can think of anything to dispute her. “I’m just going to clean up in the kitchen. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” She points to the tray. “I expect that to have gone down when I get back.”

With one last smile she turns on her heel and lets herself out.

The villain stares at the closed door for a moment before turning his gaze back to the steaming bowl in front of him. For god’s sake, it does smell good. He takes it in his lap, nabbing a piece of bread with him and dunking it into the soup.

The vase is slowly disintegrating, pieces dropping out of place every-so-often. The villain watches it like entertainment as he eats, but eventually it starts to get on his nerves. A quick scavenge of the hero’s drawers finds him a tiny tube of glue.

All of this is a pain in the ass. At least this gives him something to do with his hands.

[sideblogdotjpeg]

some undersea interlude sketches

[0809sysblings]

maybe this will get rocks thrown at me but i kinda hate when people call the 18+ prisoners "grown adults" as insults and ways to like... shut down any sympathy with them. how because they are "grown adults", they "should have known better". this has just always bothered me. i see it and i have to sit and stare at the wall for 10 minutes.

like. idk. being an adult does not automatically give you skills like Emotional Regulation, Impulse Control, Ability To Learn From Consequences, Ability To Plan For The Future, Critical Thinking, Interpersonal Skills, etc etc. you have to be Taught these things no matter how old you are. if you are not taught these things, and you are not supported in an environment that helps you further develop these things... you just. Aren't gonna be able to do them well.

adults just, typically, have accumulated enough experiences in life to have been able to learn these things. but not every adult has had that privilege. or some adults have had to just shut off the parts of their brain that would allow them to learn these things to be able to function at a basic level.

[wifeiy]

i am unwell

[unriding]

(early) zevie day sketchy !!!!! for u !!!!!!! ohhh how i love zevie (and moevie) !!!!! i hope you have the best best best ever day full of love bc you deserve it - truly and honestly!! you're one of the sweetest souls i've had the pleasure of knowing ... thank you for being you <3 mwah mwah xoxo

venus ?!?! i will respond to your art in my tags ( i am sorry for the length of them in advance ) but oh i love you !! i think i will queue this like 30 minutes before midnight because i am losing my mind ahsndjdjd !!! ??? venus every time i see you, i feel so .. safe ?! and so comfortable ? and happy ? i truly love this special air you have .. i love you !! i have been so happy to be your mootie … thank you for making me feel so loved 🥺 and thank you for being in my life! and thank you for being so cute and so sweet and so lovely and so — JANSNJDKD thank you!!! 🥺🥺🤍✨✨

[ryescapades]

g guys …,,.??:!; GU YSGUYS ….

a little rant in the tags bcs im Emotional™️ and so full of love rn

[tooies]

tbh i think the internet isn't the way it is because "people are just so stupid" or "piss poor reading comprehension" or whatever because like most of the bullshit i see on here hinges either on miscommunications and a lack of conflict resolution skills or a stubborn refusal to critically examine one's own beliefs and principles

[sneezydarliing]

Close Quarters (Gen/Shin, CynoNari)

Hi um. Me after posting late to my own event. nyways this is for @hachiibun !!!!! thank you So much for your patience i hope you like this. I tried to go insp from some art you've posted so i hope its to ur liking!!!!

Cyno was familiar with Tighnari’s nose. Sensitive and easily set off, it wasn’t uncommon to witness one of his fits if you spent a day with him. His ears would twitch and flick, tail swishing with agitation, nose scrunched up against a wrist until he finally succumbed. His awareness is what led to the sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched the other. 

The two were cramped together in a small inlet, waiting for the moment to strike against a large group of enemies. They crouched side-by-side, shoulders pressed together. Cyno quietly observed, watching the furrow in Tighnari's brows, the flick of his tail, watching him scrub a gloved hand against his nose. The two locked eyes, Tighnari’s eyes red-rimmed and watery with unshed allergic tears. He worried his bottom lip against his teeth, sending a message they both knew. Tighnari needed to sneeze, and there was very little he could do to stop it.  

The specks of pollen coating every surface was the clear culprit. While neither of them were allergic, it was nearly impossible to not feel itchy with the sheer amount of it. Even Cyno, prideful of his own control, had to resist the urge to rub his irritated eyes. Tighnari, however, was fighting a losing battle. He aggressively pawed at his nose, leaving it red and angry looking. They both knew his sneezes could never go unnoticed- Tighnari’s fits were pitchy and desperate, demanding attention whether he wanted it or not. 

Cyno adjusts, freeing a hand, prepared to help if needed. Sure enough, Tighnari’s slow, controlled breath snagged, entering a desperate cresendo as he fought against the itch, battle quickly lost. Cyno watches as he crushes the release against his glove, knowing the control will not last. Tighnari’s nose is never satisfied with just one, and a wet sniffle and the crinkle in his nose confirms his theory. He gives cyno a watery look, warning him of what he already knows.

He slowly manevours around so that he's facing tighnari, ignoring his quiet hiss of “what are you doing?!” then, he brings up his hands, gently presses tighnari against his body, and locks eyes with him. Tighnari  nods, breath already stuttering. Cyno can almost feel the tickle, watching his nose wrinkle as he brings up another glove to scrub at it. His breath takes on an almost desperate whine, and he buries himself into Cyno’s shoulder

As it came to a peak, Cynos hands wrapped around hjs head, pressing him further into him. The fabric against his nose set him over the edge, as he tries desperately to silence the much-needed release. 

“h’NGT! h-N’’gXT-h’NdT’iew-! hhI- hN’GT-hH’NDGT-ieww!” Tighnari panted against the rapid releases, and Cyno felt a dampness in his shoulder. “Done?” he whispered, knowing Tighnari’s sensitive ears would pick it up. Tighnari lets out another whine-like breath, hitching and stuttering. “I don’Hht-! Don’t know how many more I.. nGHT-! snF! Can hold back..” he mutters, congestion clear in his voice. 

Cyno presses his hands against the back of Tighnari’s head and presses him further against him. “Let them out. It’ll be okay.” 

Tighnari opens his mouth to object, but with his loss of focus, the need for release overcomes him. He buries himself in the crook of Cyno’s neck, each sneeze more desperate and itchy sounding than the last. 

“hIH-iSHhiew-iShh-i’tSCh’iew-! hAh.. hiDT’sCHh’u! a’TSCHh-sCHh’ieww-! n’GTCh-! iSCHh’u!” Tighnari gasps for breath against Cyno as he watches their targets warily pack up their camp and leave, made nervous by the sudden activity. He releases a deep breath, but there’s no use in being angry. It was an unavoidable outcome. He releases his grip on his companion, trying to plan a next move as he listens to Tighnari’s wet sniffles as he attempts to clean himself up. 

“I’m sorry, Cyno.” He says after a few moments, voice thick and raspy from strain. Cyno shakes his head in response. “It was bound to happen. I’m sure they’ll return.” He stands, dusting the dirt from his clothes, and offers a hand to Tighnari, who takes it after another itchy sneeze aimed into his shoulder. “You need to go home and wash the pollen off.” 

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pictures and things

[louwhose]

Happy Pi Day! Or... is it pie day? White day?

Whatever, today is something and I'm celebrating whatever it is with this ship I'm far too obsessed with for how little screentime they have.