#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 !!!

[cashmere-caveman]

some assorted rats plus a bonus goodsir (more terror text post memes)

[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.

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

How often does everyone use swear words?

Kai and Cole: Without thinking, and especially when worked up. Thus, very often.

Jay and Nya: When under stress/When directly agitated. Thus, occasionally, but not nearly as flippantly as Kai and Cole.

Zane and Lloyd: They try to keep it in their heads. Thus, not very often (but not never)

Olivia and Harleigh: Born to swear. Thus, every chance they get.

Jesse: Has one free pass to say 'SURPRISE, BITCH' at a very pivotal moment, and then never again. Thus, only swears for optimal impact.

Miranda: Doesn't really swear, but says some pretty fucked up stuff sometimes, which is almost worse.

Antonia and Harumi: Swear, but only under their breath

Sunni: Has never uttered even a 'fudge' in her life-

[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.” 

[raisans-art]

Every day I get closer to posting April 24th and every day I have another heart attack

[hikarry]

Okay children, gather around. It's "Spencer Complains and Acts a Little Mad" Time:

I have been raw dogging life for 1 month without my adhd/depression/anxiety/mood stabilizers medication and without a single Therapy appointment

I haven't left my house in 1 month, I haven't spoken to any of my (in person) friends in over 1 month, I haven't seen my family in 1 month, I haven't seen my bloody cat in over 1 month, I've barely left my bloody room in over 1 month, and I've been listening to my bloody voice almost every day for 1 hour so I can finish editing the bloody podcast for over a month

To top it all of: I haven't had a decent night's sleep in about 4 days now (in which I just don't sleep or I have extremely vivid nightmares with my departed mother and/or scenarios where I die over and over and over again but can't speak to ask for help before it happens - fun for all the family, if you ask me) and I might or might not be completely and absolutely going insane, with only Good Omens season 1 (6/6) and season 2 (5/6) and the existence of Crowley/red haired Fire Pokemon David Tennant Edition being my sole producer of any amount of serotonin

How am I alive? Good question. Beautiful genderfluid demonic content can be some very nice very distracting content for individuals that simp for Fire Type David Tennant Pokemon like myself

I am quite sure my only contact with anything mental health related in the past weeks has been my best friend whom is very very annoying and refuses to leave me the heck alone and whom is a nurse and is working extra time to advice my stupid ass the best she can, bless her heart

So, with my personal nurse's permission, I have doubled my sleeping medication for the night and, as Fall Out Boy once wrote for the song "Alone Together" in one of my favorite albums to have ever been created "Save Rock and Roll": I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead

[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.

[dubacheryking]

It seems like you really like the IT book( it 1986), so do you remember Eddie Corcoran’s story from chapter 6. Because like his chapter is for real one of the most heartbreaking chapters in the whole book and he’s like so underrated for no reason. Soooo like what’s your opinions on him and other little interesting thing like that lol.

:)

oh my GOG tbh i think eddie corcoran's death is straight up the most horrifying part of the book. like if u put a gun to my head and said "what part of IT 86 do u find the most stomach churning" THATS IT RIGHT THERE. no one ever really talks abt it by 90% of the fandom on here is movie based and they dont FUCKING include it for some godawful reason (i can understand the 1990 ver not including it specifically for censorship reasons, since it was the 90s and also made for tv and ALSO cut to 3hrs lol) but like. the fact that it wasnt in the movies is criminal tbh.

but i digress.

as for opinions and such regarding the corcoran boy.... i mean, we get next to nothing abt him. what we know is a) his stepdad is an abusive piece of shit b) he had a younger brother that he seemingly cared about deeply (SOBS) c) his pos stepdad killed his baby brother (LIKE ACTUAL BABY. A 4YO???? FR????) d) his death was horrific. theres a little bit more but but but i havent reread that chapter recently so some of it is certainly escaping me. i wish there was more about him as an actual person, but i also understand that w the book already being a billion pages long there is only so much small details that could actually be included, and the history of derry and main story obvs will trump this specific smaller story--but like, fr, i want to know more abt eddie. we know he was terrified of the thing from the black lagoon (fair) and obvs holds a lot of fear and anger and guilt regarding dorsey's death, we know hes abused, we know how he dies. its a weird paradox of being very close to this character (in terms of his pov at the time, being in his head and all just like w any of the main losers) and being extremely removed (we know nothing abt his internal life beyond what his abuse brings out). which. frankly it's somewhat genius bc, yeah, abuse DOES tend to stifle the actual personality/interests of the person being abused and DOES like literally fuck w the brain chemistry and processessing of a child (source: happened to me lolololol), but its also heartbreaking that all we know him as is One of The Missing. he can never be more. its fucked.

soooo . this got away from me. sorry if it makes little to no sense ill just do a small bit on my thoughts summarized HERE:

i wholeheartedly agree that eddie corcoran's death is like. the worst part of the story. listening to it makes me legit sick to my stomach in a way NO OTHER PART OF THE BOOK DOES. LEGIT. and i think the main reason for that is while cosmic horror space clown spider thing is fake, duh, and more obviously used as a stand in for trauma and specifically for childhood trauma and the lasting effects that it has on our psyche, eddie's death is REAL. dorsey's death is REAL. we see, in grusome, up close detail, the actual consequences of abuse and how it destroys people's lives--specifically children's. we see how the complacency of those around such families (eddie's mom, the teachers, the principal, the town of derry at large) contributes to the horrific mistreatment of the most vulnerable, and how NONE OF THEM suffer any consequences for their lack of action. the section ends with eddie's mother getting access to his savings, which amount to less than 20$. to do so, she has to have him legally declared dead, EVEN THOUGH THEY DO NOT HAVE A BODY. AND THAT'S FUCKED. SHE DOESN'T EVEN WANT TO MAKE SURE HE'S FUCKING DEAD BEFORE SHE DOES THIS, DOESN'T WANT THE CLOSURE, DOESN'T WANT TO LAY HIM TO REST, DOESN'T WANT A PLACE TO VISIT. I CAN'T. like obviously we see themes of abuse and neglect in the whole book, that's the whole point, but eddie's story is different. there is no winning. there is no escape. you can't spin it into a better life.

he's a kid, just like any of the losers, but to the universe, he's not 'special,' so his death doesn't matter. he could have been swapped in with any of the other characters--fuck, he literally shares the name of one of them!! and yet he's not, and because of that, he doesn't matter. his death effects no one. the only positive is that it reopens dorsey's case, and even then, the reopening of his brother's death almost entirely sweeps eddie under the rug. the town of derry turns away, and when the truth of dorsey corcoran's death is revealed, the shrug, go so very sad, and wipe their hands of it. just another child death at the hands of an adult monster, just another day.

[skunkes]

finally found a better way to word my issues with art improvement and thats that obviously art with no ref is/can be a little incorrect and misguided, there are Mistakes when you're just going off of memory.

But when i do studies my art becomes too Rigid because my brain remembers the studies and yells at me if i dont proportion things "correctly" (+ also ends up Bad due to overworking to "Fix" it)...

Its hawrd to find that balance, + have it be the Loose and Fun art that comes before reminding self what something is "supposed to look like". I feel my stuff only exists between extreme ends of sloppy and rigid bc i cant find the balance

Ive seen a few very old drawings from before I started using refs more often and they almost look Better. They dont look 100% Right but they look Good. Now I overwork everything bc it doesnt look Right and it still ends up not looking Right or Good.