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Little Nas Are You Working On Your Raps

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this isn't a project I work on super regularly but I was pleased with how the character acting turned out here and wanted to share

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top part's bc i wanted to design a little sticker for myself - couldn't resist adding a little smooch (:< 2-for-1 combo of a little more of a size difference than i usually go for and the pointy ears @poly-hebdo draws derek with because it's cute as fuck

[find this and my other art on Redbubble!]

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more beast world...they haunt me...

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Ngl, I had so much fun drawing this today :'D I was stuck in town, but I brought my sketchbook with me and spent all day drawing this stream of consciousness style. It felt good to draw all willy nilly, and let things look Bad for once. Where the goal isn't to make everything look perfect. And this is so so so dumb, I was grinning like an idiot half the time. Twas a long, manic, coffee fueled drawing session.

Normally I don't pay tumblr polls much mind, but there's something so hilarious about this. I like to imagine these guys are all together. Everyone's a nervous, sweaty wreck. It's a horrible, fucked up mpreg contest and NO ONE wants to be there.

Remember guys. Don't forget to vote. It would be a shame if someone voted for Ford, and made his life harder... a real shame...

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*looks in the distance* *sighs deeply*

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here's a short pennywaynes drabble i wrote instead of dedicating the next three months to a 90k slowburn like i want to....

~~~

“You’re attracted to him,” Martha said, sprawled out on top of the too-large, plush armchair. Her tone was careful, and controlled- tipsy enough to be loose lipped but sober enough to be calculated about it.

Thomas’s head jerked up. He stared at her with the wide, terrified eyes of a cornered animal, and his glass hung loosely in his hand. For a long moment, the only sound was the soft crackling of the fireplace beside them. 

“I… Martha,” Thomas breathed finally, the light dancing on his face. 

“Come now, Thomas,” she murmured, raising an eyebrow. “You think I don’t see how you look at him?” 

“Martha, please,” Thomas said quickly, unsteadily. “You don’t understand-” 

“I do understand,” Martha said, almost to herself, as she turned back towards the fire. “You want him.” 

The room fell into silence once more. Thomas swallowed around his thick, heavy tongue, confronted unavoidably with his indiscretions. He’d known this day would come, deep in his gut. “I… do,” he finally admitted. How could he not? This was Martha, a sharp, beautiful, dangerous creature and beyond the fact that no one could lie to her, he would not. 

Martha let out a quiet breath. She watched the flames dance and flicker, eating up the wood with a ravenous hunger. Thomas leaned forwards, mourning the loss of any small insight into her mind. “Did you,” she whispered, “even want to marry me?” 

And the world seemed to drop out beneath Thomas’s feet, as he stared, horrified, at his wife, small and unsure of herself for the very first time. 

“Yes,” he gasped out immediately, as if it had been wrenched from his chest. “Martha, darling, of course-” He moved without thinking, falling off his chair and stumbling to hers, kneeling before her. He reached out, grasping at her hand and clutching it tightly between his own. “I love you,” he swore. “I love you!” 

“But you want him,” Martha said quietly, not an argument but a statement of fact. “I- I-” Thomas choked out, and he would not lie- “I am promised to you,” he settled on finally. “That vow means more to me than anything. Darling, you must believe that.” 

“And that vow is what?” she whispered bitterly. “An assuage on the expectations of your family? The rules of society? If you had your choice-” 

“I would pick you, again and again!” Thomas insisted desperately. “Martha, darling, I-” He screwed his eyes shut. Then, he began to speak, rapid and frantic, as if hacking away at some unseen force. “I have been aware of my perversion my entire life- of course I have- my Father, suspected, perhaps, but I was controlled, never gave him any cause to- I went to college, threw myself into my studies with the intention of dedicating my life to it. There was never any plan to love or- or god forbid, wed- of course not, how could I subject any poor girl to me or any poor man to- but god, Martha,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were earnest, and burning. “Martha, how could there be any accounting for you?” he breathed. 

Martha’s lips parted softly as she stared down at him in shock. 

He dropped his head, kissing her fingers. “I cannot control it,” he confessed wretchedly. “I cannot remove it. You may hate me, and I would not blame you- you may scream and yell and toss me out but please, my love,” and his voice cracked, “do not let my failures diminish you. Do not let my brokenness make you feel there is something broken in you.” 

Thomas stayed there, holding his lips to her skin as he trembled, a man waiting for retribution. It could’ve been hours, years that he was there on his knees, his mind spiraling and his body shaking as he thought about everything he’d destroyed, the beautiful things he’d crushed in his hand for daring to reach out and hold them and then-

A soft hand dropped onto his head, and carded gently through his hair.

“...There is nothing broken in you,” she murmured softly. “Thomas, how could I forsake you for believing men are worth loving when I myself love a man?”

“It is against God,” Thomas choked out angrily.

Martha’s fingers tightened in his hair, and she pulled his face up, forcing him to meet her eye. “And whose word do you value more?” she said, a quiet steel returned to his tone. “His or mine?” 

Thomas’s mouth worked uselessly for a moment. He let out a hoarse, broken sound before he reached for her hand again. He pressed it to his mouth, this time keeping his gaze fixed firmly on her. He looked devout. He looked starving. He looked like a man at worship, and Martha’s eyes glimmered with approval.  

“I will admit, he sparks my interest as well,” she confessed quietly.

Thomas stayed silent, although his demeanor shifted, sharpening slightly as he waited for her next words. 

Martha chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “That's happened only once before, by my estimations.” 

Thomas let out a low, shaky exhale, and he kissed her hand again. “My love, I adore you,” he breathed. “Please, help me understand. What do you want- what are you asking for?

Martha hummed softly, her eyes glittering in the way they always did when she was thinking. “Let us, perhaps, briefly entertain an image of unconventionalism,” she offered, carefully neutral. “If an opportunity presented itself to expand the boundaries of what is yours and what is mine,” she said. “Would you be interested?” 

“My first priority is to your happiness,” Thomas responded delicately. She tugged at his hair in reprimand.

“Would you be interested,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. Thomas swallowed roughly. Inside him was a war, yanking emotions tossing him left and right- to even consider the idea was disgraceful, disgusting, a good man would laugh and scoff and go to bed beside his wife without ever once feeling like the bed was too large- 

Thomas, far from the first time, acknowledged to himself that he was not a good man. 

He nodded. 

Martha hummed thoughtfully, and her grip softened again. “Alright,” she said. “Alright. Something to think about, perhaps.” 

Thomas rose from his position on the floor and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You never have to do anything you don’t want,” he promised her. 

Martha smiled, mirth sparking in her eyes. “Darling,” she said, “I know.” 

She kissed him back. 

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I'M ALIVE ;0; Happy Monday! Work's been crazy, but hopefully this big post makes up for my absence 🙇 Someday i'll learn to post fewer images, but for now i feel the need to hide my batcat brainrot at the bottom... (if i wasn't already going to hell, i definitely secured my ticket with this one :'D)

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daily 2

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I REDESIGNED MY HUMANFORMERS HEEHEEEE

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It's giving, mixed signals.

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harlivy being girlfriends ✿ batcat... sponsored by Sinners (highly recommend it if you haven't seen it!)

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I'm still not okay after reading the Playlist for When Your Boyfriend Stops Breathing by @sunsetplums, still listening to the playlist too ˙◠˙ p.s. Birb’s name is Mango, she used to live with the fic’s author but passed away just a couple days ago so now Jayce is looking after her. Faint music on the bg is My děti ze stanice Bullerbyn by Květy

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dickie g 🐦‍⬛

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doors exist and someday batman will learn to use them but today is not that day 🙂‍↔️

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Same Age AU - Shiro and Keith meet older versions of their boyfriends from a different reality! 🥰

Inspired by the wonderful morbidzy 💕

✨Patreon✨

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A very special boy on his very special day