#or you think their nose is too big

[prince-peachie]

probably an unpopular opinion but people really should refrain from correcting artist’s artworks

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[humblegoat]

every once in a while i think back to college and the time my animation professor used moses from prince of egypt as an example of “unappealing character design” and each time i remember this i’m closer to branding it an internalized racism thing

[canisalbus]

uh hi hello!! first i wanted to say i am deeply in love with your art (god those shapes, these lines, texture, anatomy, expression, EVERYTHING) and your latest drawing just moved something in me i cant quite grasp it, been thinking about it for a couple days. sooo i felt inspired and made myself a smol little machete out of uh wild clay so i could kiss him on the forehead before going to sleep, i hope you're ok with that? (also sorry he's kinda wonky, me and acrylics hate each other haha)

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[silusvesuius]

testing out drawing maormer 🪸🐚🪸 and a nelvas 🧣📜🩷 i'll ramble about maormer a bit in the tags

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[angelsdean]

no but really it's funny sam thinks dean is john 2.0 when s1 dean is just. content to take on random cases and help save some people and is trying to do some good w/ the hand he's been dealt and isn't all that interested in his father's revenge quest and up until then has always had to play the mediator and swallow down his own feelings and anger. while sam's the one who quickly becomes obsessed w/ revenge the minute he loses jess and finding the thing that killed her and is quick to anger. "you're more like him than i'll ever be" "i'll take that as a compliment" "you can take that however you like" etc etc

[bitchthefuck1]

That one chef saying that the worst thing about a bad boss is how they unlock that behavior in you and seeing Carmy mirror the attitude of the chef that terrorized him and gave him panic attacks and then ending the season with Syd having a panic attack because of the stress of working with Carmy...diabolical.

[ask-carson-real]

I’m so disappointed that I’ll never be able to pull off a Carson cosplay because my nose is PATHETIC. FUCK

[townofcrosshollow]

* acne, age spots, hyperpigmentation, pockmarks, etc. A couple freckles does not count

[camellcat]

thinking about angel!Liam just absolutely fucking decking demon!Theo

Liam is, at first, completely horrified, right? like, oh, dear heavens, he just punched someone! that's not very holy of him! ...but also, Theo is a demon... surely he's just... acting within his angelic duties... to thwart demon wiles... yeah...?

and Theo cannot decide whether to laugh his ass off because he just got an angel to punch someone or start panicking that maybe he's pushed Liam too far and he'll be discoperated or smth. which ofc he won't be bc Liam (as much as he loath to admit it) does not hate Theo, but they are not at the stage in which Theo is certain of that!!

but once Theo gets him back it (dreadfully, in Liam's opinion, and cruelly giddily in Theo's) becomes a Thing.

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Does the animal DNA that is added to a clone affect their behaviour in any way? For example do they tend to have instincts similar to that animal?

If for example there was a clone with bear DNA would they want to hibernate during the colder months? Or would DNA affect how clones would fight or otherwise respond to threats (like a deer would probably run away from a threat but other animals might attack)?

Also a concept: A clone with squirrel DNA hoarding food and hiding it away somewhere for the winter

(Yes, the DNA can affect a clone's behaviour! Obviously there will be exceptions to the rule, but clones will typically exhibit behaviours of their spliced animals

So for an example, Pancetta was made with Honey Badger DNA, hence why he is so aggressive and attacks on sight, but other clones made with prey animals (like a deer) would be more likely to run from a threat

Behaviours were actually a big part in deciding on animals to use, many clones were often spliced with a domesticated animal alongside a wild one, to make them more docile (and bc 'acquiring' a ton of domestic animals was easier and less suspicious than a getting a bunch of endangered animals). An example of this is BB, who has African Lion and King Cobra DNA (powerful big cat, and venomous snake) mixed with Boer Goat and Ball Python (friendly goat and cute snake) making them pretty chill

Why did they want docile clones? Ask someone else about that hehe

Hibernation is a strange case tho, bc none of the clones have experienced seasons! Being in a lab that was consistently the same environment for their entire lives, none of them have ever done it! It's only been about a month since the tower fell, and they got out, and it is currently springtime in story, it'll be interesting to see how the clones respond to the winter!

Also the concept is very cute, and I one up you with two squirrels hehe!!! Red Squirrel Peppiclone is showing Indian Giant Squirrel Fake Peppino a cool place to hide all the nuts they found together!!!

[detectivehole]

every time someone gets cosmetic surgery to "fix" a dorsal hump an angel not only loses its wings but gets flayed alive to boot

[girlanachrotism]

Back to the grind (thinking about Bloodborne)

[lesbiansandco]

this is a Big Nose appreciation post. people with big noses of any shape or size, this is for you. you are beautiful or handsome just the way you are and anyone who says otherwise can get lost. nobody defines our beauty but us. no one pressures us to change our bodies, the choice is ours alone. but even then I hope you can find acceptance with your own body. I love you and your nose and you deserve all the world has to offer 💖 👃🏻👃🏼👃🏽👃🏾👃🏿

[ruvviks]

the english language sucks and is taking all the whimsy out of my writing