#do I need to tag this with a warning?

[iamchickenhearmesquawk]

I’m about to be an annoying queer narnia fan so don’t mind me

Ok but I will say that c.s. Lewis wasn’t as conservative as some Christian’s like to believe

, fun fact he had sex outside of marriage and was into bdsm to a small degree but don’t quote me on that I’ve only seen it touched on once by a lewis scholar

He had gay friends and while his views he talked about were in line with traditional sexual ethic I’d say he was fairly open for his time. At the very least from what I remember he was less clutch your pearls when it came to sex as a topic.

He didn’t like casual sex very much as like, a concept but also that doesn’t mean in this fictional world he made it would never be possible, one of the books a main plot line is an asshole Prince wanting to kidnap Susan to force him to be his wife and if that’s allowed I’m sure people were out there getting it on. Sex is a thing people do, authors can have things happen in their worlds they don’t condone (even though he didn’t in this case and that’s good cause it would make narnia not for children, I’m talking headcanons, theories or even just stuff that can and has been built upon in fan content)

even if aslans laws involved waiting till marriage (not in my headcanon but let’s just say it is cause of the author) not every citizen of that world would have had the same beliefs

Also everyone brings up Father Christmas showing up but I think we need to talk more about bacchus/Dionysus and his followers showing up in the Prince caspian and doing a g rated romp (because there were children present) like it’s very funny to imagine that C.S. Lewis wrote this world with Satyrs fauns, dryads and water spirits and was like “and every citizen of narnia was straight and waited until marriage”

also regardless the world of Narnia itself (specifically the country Narnia within that world, like narnia amongst archenland, calormen, the eastern islands) is quite open and wild and despite authors intentions can read as queer in general. It’s wilder and has a big diversity in its citizens (also the one country where arguably men and other creatures are truly equal)

Also this is tangential but I saw some comments along the lines of “weren’t they the only humans???” the first generation of narnian monarchs wouldn’t have been fully human probably, after the first two their children I think married dryads and stuff. But then also by the time the pevensies showed up and especially once they were well into their reign the surrounding countries of Narnia had plenty of humans, Narnia is actually the outlier of being a country not primarily populated by humans.

[ministarfruit]

look alive, 2025! femslash february prompt list drop, hot and fresh from the oven. sorry it's late everybody but we are yuri-ing out this year again don't worry ✌️

full prompt list under the cut!

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2025 (THEME: CHECKLIST)

I want you to:

See me

Heal me

Kiss me

Hate me

Kill me

Love me

Hold me

Leave me

Feed me

Trust me

Be me

Find me

Treat me

Save me

Please:

Forget me

Ruin me

Marry me

Remember me

Sing with me

Dance with me

Bring me to life

Trick me

Fight me

Understand me

Lie to me

Sit with me

Be here for me

Be mine

For anyone clicking into this who is not aware, Femslash February is a month of creating content of women loving women! Anything can be made for any day and there are no restrictions as long as it's sapphic. Please make sure to tag warnings and R18 content appropriately. That's all! Thank you! See you February!

[wearysaer]

▲ swish ▽

(rotoscoping of Reigen's twirl in op3 of Mob Psycho 100)

Finally done!!!! It took me way too long and a lot of it is still pretty rough TTvTT

Here are the static twirls:

And now some process gifs for anyone interested (I exported lines, flats, and shadows separately, then added some effects in video editing):

[submastrain]

Emmet in-- a situation ⚡

[linkneol091]

TV GIRL NUZIS!!!!!!!! ( i made this one easy but on one single layer so uhm took a long time)

[egophiliac]

I love your unhinged energy of your comics it's just *chef's kiss"

I wanna ask how you rig your chibi characters if you use a program or an app ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

thanks! 💚💜💚

I use Spine (professional version)! I'm pretty sure it's the same program the Twst devs use for the chibis; I decided to try reverse-engineering 'em basically because my license was just sitting around gathering dust, and I thought it'd be fun practice (this was before I tried to rig Meleanor's cape). it is an industry-standard program and, unfortunately, is priced accordingly, so it's a bit expensive if you're not planning on using it professionally -- there is a free trial, though I think you can't save/export anything in it? BUT it is truly excellent and can do a ton of super cool stuff, plus is genuinely just fun to mess around in, so I 10000% recommend it to anyone who is serious about getting into 2D rigging!

behold...the BONES...Najma and her billion discrete tassels...don't pay attention to all the extra bones from my desperate attempts to control Meleanor's meshes

[wormsical]

long-term nuclear waste warning messages/subnautica

[dailygriandoodles]

Day 132

Had a vision, toying around with an AU, wanted to animate it :3c

(interpret with whatever ship you want, i had platonic mumbo and platonic scar ships in mind while making this hehe)

[starlingfawn]

for the number playlist ask game, how about 2, 5, 21, and leafpool?

leafpool with 21!

fuera de contol

requests are still open!!

[thefloatingwriter]

if i had a nickel for every time beetee should have warned a boy from the seam about the consequences of his actions while the fandom bends over backwards to justify it, i would have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[prisma-palace]

Today I found out that Heart and Mind are canon. Yeah.

Anyways my new design of Mind

happy april fools! this is the worst thing ive ever drawn and i seriously dont even recognize it as my own art.

referencing This

[m1d-45]

bloodletting

summary: a budding god needs a place to test their new powers, and childe was always a little too eager to lose a fight... a match made in heaven!

word count: 1.7k

-> warnings : minor AQ spoilers ? just like, general gi plot.. fairly graphic depiction of blood + other injuries (might be classed as body horror???). generally obsessive tendencies (childe <--> you). i cannot stress this enough, reader is 110% a sadist.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

power was not something that came easy. it was fought over, stolen, defended with teeth and claw, tides of blood shed just so one could have power over another. social, physical, financial; no matter the leverage it provided, power was hard won. to give someone power was to admit defeat, a certain death that tartaglia had learned and taught more than his fair share of times. nobody undeserving of power ever held onto it for long; it was an acknowledgement that you were better, that you deserved it, that you’d won. power was a fickle resource that childe would kill to keep, only ever laying down his blade for a precious few.

the tsaritsa, of course. his fellow harbingers, skilled both on and off-field, who themselves could rival the archons. his family, for whom he’d happily give the world.

and naturally, who would be more worthy to hold power than you?

you, not just a god but the, the highest authority across all of teyvat. you bore a hundred names and a thousand monikers, your worship the one thing the world could agree on. granted, nobody could quite agree on how, but that was fine. childe did not need external powers to tell him what to do. he knew, in his deepest heart, that he had gotten it right.

he knew—and, on occasion, flaunted—that he was your favorite. of all the vessels you had chosen, you returned to him time and time again, wishing on his stars until his vision gleamed. his bow shone with power, even his weakest weapon more than enough to push his strength to new heights. part of him wondered what he could do if you’d granted him swords, or a claymore… but that was speculation for another time. didn’t it say something that you had still chosen him at his weakest?

the thought always made him smile. thick in the heat of puppeteered battle, before the sun to after dark, your presence was a constant in his life. at every altar, with every offering, when his hands stung from the rash of leather and his blade was covered in rust, your name a prayer behind blood-soaked teeth. he could not remember a time when his pocket was not weighted with a charm.

his devotion was no secret. he wore your bow with pride, entirely phasing out his other weapons. it didn’t matter that he was technically more controlled with them, for you had chosen this path for him. your word was his guide, a polar star through bitter nights.

he did not doubt when your presence ebbed or flowed. who was he to dictate when or where you spent your attention? no, his faith did not waver. it had no reason to. he waited patiently, going about his regular duties, lingering in snezhnaya for no other reason that he just felt like he had to.

who was he to question to buzzing in the back of his head? who was he to decline when he felt an instinct to leave, to go for a trip far past the city gates? who was he to think himself better than the guiding light that had never led him astray?

for you, he was whatever you needed. and so he went, armed with a thick coat and snowboots, hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the slight shake. down the main road, an arbitrary turn into an alley and down an abandoned path, into a part of the city he’d never traveled. but a golden thread had tied itself around his heart, pulling without hesitation. he easily hopped over the fence gate, not bothering with hauling it open through the snow. the path beyond was covered in a thick layer of powder, his foot crunching through a foot of it before hitting solid ground. still, he continued.

snezhnayan winters were not warm. they bit and dug into every gap in your clothes, stealing away the precious warmth within. and yet, with his half-done coat and incomplete guard, he was not cold. or, rather, he couldn’t feel it. his hands were pink with frost, stiff at the knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the resistance. his body was not important, not now.

the snow began to thin. it fell from his knees to his shins to his ankles to his toes, until he was face to face with a thick wall of bramble, impossibly overgrown. he was beginning to overheat in his jacket. twin blades made quick work of the wall, and the sight behind it easily dispelled any breath left in his lungs.

the air that washed out of the bubble was thick and heavy, like a humid spring instead of snezhnayan woods. his breath came in short gasps, a shameful wheeze that he hoped was missed beneath the howling snow. he didn’t want you to see him as weak, as someone so easily tired by a short trip to a falling star; he didn’t want you to think of him as anything other than his best.

but you didn’t push him away. you helped him up—his head was buzzing with delusion, he could hardly see, when had he fallen to his knees?—and brushed the snow off his hair, not pushing him away when he leaned into your touch. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely collect himself enough to recognize that he needed to get you inside, away from the wilds.

that was power. to so effortlessly take over every thought in his head, to hold his mind in your hands and pull it into your liking, that was the power he adored you for. gods were figureheads of power, a physical incarnation of their dominion. a god of the entire world would only naturally have power to manipulate that world to their liking. how blessed was he, that he could be the first you made yours.

he was with you when you first stepped into zapolyarny palace, looking around at the chandeliers and fine tile. he opened the door for you to her majesty’s throne room, sucking in a sharp breath as you brushed by. he was by your side when the tsaritsa swore you her fealty, delicately placing the gnoses in your hands.

and oh, how he’d fallen to the floor right then and there, dizzy from the wash of power that rolled off you in waves, an ocean that he willingly dove into. the floor was cool beneath his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin as sweat quickly began to bead. he didn’t bother pushing himself up on his hands, teeth sinking deep into his lip again to control his panting breath. copper bloomed over his tongue, filling his mouth and clogging what remained of his senses.

dimly, he was aware that he was being pathetic, that this would surely change your mind about him. he heard your voice, faint through the fog of his mind, your wisdom lost to his own inadequacy. and yet, despite his weakness, every part of him was tuned into you. he knew it was your hand whispering across his shoulders, he knew it was your influence that stole the breath from his lungs. he knew it was you, because it was always you. you were all he could think of, and now you were finally able to leverage your full power over his self.

he’d woken up in a hospital bed. saline dripped into his arm and the lights pierced his eyes, his head full of snow and iced over. and yet, the moment he was cleared for release, he found himself desperate to be back to your side, racing through the tiled halls of the palace and following the urgent burn in his chest. you would have been right to turn him away, to deem him too weak to stay by your side, but you didn’t. you smiled when he lost his breath and laughed when he wavered, brushing off his concern. you invited him with you—his lungs burned with the need for oxygen—as you twirled the gnoses between your fingers, as if they were toys or paperweights rather than objects of divine power.

divine to him. child’s play to you. a courtyard of snow was cleared in an instant, ripples of pyro melting permafrost while keeping the flora beneath intact, a lazy show of power that pulled little more than a slight hum from you in response.

he wasn’t so much a fool as to think he could teach you everything, or even something, about being divine. and yet he clung to your side like a sailor in a storm, watching as you grew familiar with the elements. he watched, stubborn and weak, as you stopped hesitating.

flowers bloomed as you walked by, crumbling to ash with the slightest look. electro jumped from your skin to his, a painful spark that drew his mind from his head, finally seeing your amused eyes instead of just mindlessly staring. you could—should—have just left him behind, but you didn’t. you instead asked for his help, taking his hand in yours and leading him to a quieter hallway of the palace. you didn’t comment on his thundering pulse despite the fact that you could certainly feel it, tracing a finger along the crease of his palm.

“i wonder…”

a claw of geo cut across his skin, a sharp sting that quickly welled with blood. he barely felt it, watching with detached awe as it filled up his hand, sliding over the edge and dripping to the floor. you didn’t show any emotion, just… watching. his heart beat in his hands, a pool collecting on the floor, and still, you just watched. your other hand moved over the surface, barely an inch away, the blood collecting in a bubble beneath it. with a hum, your fist tightened, pain lighting up his arm. a strained grunt slipped between his teeth, hand flinching closed, brushing against the ball of his blood you had pulled from his veins. his hand was stained red, shaking in your grasp, minutes stretched into hours.

all at once, it dropped, forced back into his body as forcefully as it was removed. with a snap, the skin stitched itself shut, and you were again dragging him along like a child did their favorite toy.

you did that a lot. pull him aside and experiment with whatever new reaction you had discovered that month, week, day, hour, watching his reactions with unabashed delight. and he let you. every time, without fail, he eagerly followed, knowing full well he’d end up rigid with lightning or with ice crystals studding his throat. it was worth it, though. you always fixed him up, squeezing his hand with a whispered ‘good job’ that never failed to make him dizzy.

it didn’t matter what you did to him. it never did. even when his mind was hazy with pain and he couldn’t quite stand on his own, he never regretted it. unconsciousness licked at the edges of his vision, burning black stains that lingered even after you stopped, but he never once hesitated.

if you asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. if you felt like holding him underwater, he’d cherish every bruise. to be kept as a toy was still to be kept.

[immemorial-insomnia]

doodles from when i was writing a fic

[jugglejerk]

Unfortunately this looks a million times cooler than the version I was originally going to post

[sherbetstudios]

EVERYONE REJOICE LFLS UPDATED IVE BEEN WAITING FOR TJIS DAY IM SO HAPPY

lfls by @eternalglitch !!

BLOOD WARNING. (Fanart below cut)

[coridallasmultipass]

Wild babby gopher snake!! So tiny and cute taking a lil soaky-soak on a warm day. Blep blep right back atcha, lil buddy.