#but warn me next time-

[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):

[funsizedcrow]

Link is Hylia's specialist little boy (this is not a good thing for him)

(stills under the cut)

[buglaur]

fireworks show 🎆

material preview version is very cute also :)

i struggled with the lighting on this one so badly, but it turned out alright in the end.

i actually started it last year for new years 2023 but never got around to finishing it, hence no progress pictures this time sadly lol. i do have a very low-res, first draft, test gif though

stills 🥳

[satyricplotter]

(suggestive, slightly explicit content at the end)

Even though you’ve been expecting the visit for most of the night, the Red Hood knocking at your balcony door at 1 in the morning still catches you off guard. You scramble off the couch in a sleepy daze, book falling off your lap and cracking open on the floor. For one long second, the only thing you can think of is that whoever your last assignment was has managed to find you, that you’ve finally been too sloppy and left a trail with which to track you.

That’s your first thought. Your second thought is, of course, Barbara. But before you can reach your phone to shoot your boss a SOS, or, at the very least, an alert, a second rasp at the window panes freezes you on the spot.

“Will you open the damn door?” Red Hood’s unmistakably robotic voice grits out. “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.”

You trip in your rush to open the doors, limbs loose and clumsy with relief. Hood shoulders past you with a grunt, fingers prodding at the back of his head to get at the latch of his helmet. He takes it off in a smooth motion, his hot breath forming a white cloud against the cold air of your running AC. You lock the balcony back up after him as he goes around your apartment, setting his helmet on your dinner table and shrugging out of his jacket. He means to stay apparently. You could’ve lent him an umbrella if he wanted to go back out there. Probably would’ve been best.

See, you don’t like the Red Hood much.

He invites himself over to your kitchen, opening cabinets here and there until he chances upon the dinnerware and pulls out a glass. The Gotham public infrastructure is in such state you have never once attempted to drink out of the tap, but you don’t stop him when he does. It is, technically, allowed. And he had the pitcher full of filtered water right under his nose, so. You wait impatiently as he downs two whole glasses of tap water and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand (there is a perfectly usable kitchen towel draped over the oven handle).

He glances over, notices you staring. The corner of his lips quirks up. “How obedient,” he mocks. He pats at his sides, pulls a folded envelope from somewhere in his body (the Bats have endless pockets, you’ve come to learn) and tosses it on the table. “There’s your file. You better be fucking thankful. Traipsed through half the city in this shit storm just to get you these.”

“Thank you, Red Hood,” you say politely, picking up the rumpled envelope and eagerly flipping through the files. “Much appreciated.”

Red Hood rolls his eyes at you, eternally put off by your insistence on following the proper channels of conduct. “Whatever. You got anything to eat?”

“Help yourself,” you tell him.

You walk back to the couch with the file in hand and leave him to make himself whatever he will, already too distracted by the information within to care that you’re gonna have to make a second grocery run when he’s done with your fridge. Red Hood rummages through your cabinets, pulling out far more stuff than he should for a midnight snack. At one point, he asks if you’ve had dinner, and you respond him with an absentminded (and truthful) negative. The files he’s brought are the latest Robin’s swiped from the team’s ongoing investigation on a dicey arms exchange deal that may or may not involve three out of four of Gotham’s biggest conglomerates (sans, of course, Wayne Enterprises). It’s your job to process the info—a task too menial and too tedious for Oracle and Red Robin, respectively, to handle. Besides, Tim’s far more useful on the ground.

It must be about twenty minutes of you pouring over the pages scattered over your coffee table when the man speaks up again. “Dinner’s ready,” he says.

You look up to see him setting two plates of steaming stir fry on the table. He’s taken off his gloves, his utility belt, the domino mask and rolled up his sleeves—the whole nine yards. Only missing the apron. The food looks lovely, but of course it does. Cooking is listed as a specialty in Red Hood’s file, right along with marksmanship and hostile takeovers.

Your lips quirk up at the unexpected kindness, but you shake your head. “None for me, thanks.”

“I said,” Red Hood says, placing his gun on the table menacingly. “Dinner’s ready. Come eat.”

Well. So much for kindness. You’re about as dumb as Red Hood’s subtle, which is to say only at your benefit and very much at will, so you only sigh and push the papers aside. He watches you rise and sit, and pick up the fork, before he does the same. You eat in silence.

After a few bites, you stop being disgruntled at his coercion and grateful that he’s got something other than a protein bar in you because you were, in fact, quite hungry. That’s not something you can say—or at least not in any way which he would accept, so you just shut up and eat your meal happily. That seems to be enough for him, as he watches you finish the whole plate with a satisfied expression.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah, actually,” you beam.

Even when he stands and brings the dishes over to the sink to wash, you are reluctant to leave your spot at the table. You watch him rinse and sponge the plates and pan, the knife and spoon and cutting board, and your afternoon tea mug. He washes his hands thoroughly and rinses his mouth with the dubious tap water again. A thorough, judicious man. He’s played remarkably nice this evening. You wonder if Oracle’s been pulling his ear to leave you alone.

When he finishes, he walks slowly the remainder of the narrow hallway of your kitchen back to the dinner table and leans against the threshold. The long line of his body catches you off guard, always so unexpectedly graceful despite his musculature, his brutality. You hold his gaze serenely, trying not to cave under his scrutiny.

This is why you don’t like the Red Hood. Every time he looks at you, he sees you wholly. As you are. Not, crucially, as you want. It has been this way since the first time he laid eyes on you—a single glance and he had taken the measure of you. No further explanation, no time to make amends. And what’s worse: he expects you to be honest. He expects you to say what he can read in your face. He doesn’t let it go when you deflect, when you coat your truths in niceties. He wants it raw and open.

You can’t play dumb with Jason Todd.

He breaks the silence first. “Were you expecting Grayson this evening?”

The non-sequitur catches you so off guard you break eye contact accidentally. What’s Nightwing got to do with anything?

“No?” You say, evidently baffled. “Nightwing’s been off-world all week. Why would he be coming around?”

He cocks his head to the side, sucks in the bit of flesh below his lower lip. "So you knew it was me who'd be coming around?"

"Obviously?" What is he going on about? He clearly doesn't believe you, either. It's childish when you stomp your foot and whine, but he always brings out the worst in you. "I'm serious, Hood. I've been waiting for you all evening. Just you."

Jason pushes off the wall and approaches, staring you down with slightly raised eyebrows. “Then, if you knew Dick wasn't coming with, what are you looking so fuckable for?”

Despite how much it bruises your pride, you cannot help but sputter. The staring is one thing, the passing brushes are another—even the stupid pulling at your pigtails like you’re both in kindergarten is… permissible. But this? Coming at you so straightforwardly when all you know how to do is circumvent and hide? Desperately, you respond to the one thing in that sentence you can make sense of: the accusation.

“I don’t like Nightwing,” you whine. Jason fixes you with a look of dry incredulity. You huff. How you despise him. He can’t even let you lie. “And I don’t dress for him either.”

“Hm.” He reaches over to pull at the neckline of your admittedly skimpy top, his knuckle brushing against your chest. “Sure.”

You bat his hand away, and stand up, but that leaves you much closer to him than you expected. Or wanted. “This is not fuckable,” you grit out. “This is… pajamas.”

Jason cranes his neck to take a close look at you, every bit as assessing as the first one had been. One of his large hands comes to play with the hem of your shorts, pushes it up just a smidge, and the pads of his fingers are rough and calloused against your outer thigh. Your eyelids flutter, and he has the nerve to smile.

“That’s a blatant lie, you know,” he says, dipping his head low so the words brush against your lips. “Try a little, huh?”

“This seems like a you problem, my guy,” you snap, so close you might as well be speaking into his mouth. You need to get away. You don’t.

Jason’s smug when you gasp after his hands close around your ass and bring you forward, flush against his body. The hardness in his pants trapped between you, a pressing weight just below where it should be. Should be? What are you—but Jason adjusts before you can scold yourself, lining up your crotch with his and grinding. It feels bigger this way, which is insane because it's already pretty fucking huge, and a hot flash of desire runs through you lightning-quick and just as obliterating. You slump against him, head on his shoulder.

“That’s my problem,” he murmurs against your ear. His thumbs press just under your asscheeks, playful. “You gon’ do anything about it?”

[venvellan]

the wettest sloppiest kiss in all of thedas award goes to anders. for mffg-m-mgghh-ahhngh-ing directly into hawke's mouth. for chewing on syllables that aren't there. wake up, be sexy, free the mages, moan into your lover's mouth. panting like a damn dog

[itlswhatltls]

HOLY MOLY.

[luuxxart]

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🌟updates Saturday and Sunday🌟

✨(read tags for extra info!)✨

[ressonancee]

BF! WONWOO hanging out on lazy days 18+ mdi

lazy sundays were you completely favorite. everybody hated sundays, the dreaded week lurking the feeling of the rest day just ending.

but you learned to love sundays. sundays meant late and lazy breakfast in bed, it meant snuggle in hoodies all day, it meant not getting out of the house, it meant laying in the sofa all day reading with your boyfriend between your legs.

you started reading a book that your boyfriend and also bookworm gifted to you; "I just thought you would enjoy it" he said while giving it to you as he arrived from his last leg of his tour "I brought in a pretty bookshop in New York, it has a nice coffee in it, you would love it, we should go together in your next vacation" and your heart sweell nicely thinking about your boyfriend just going around New York thinking about you.

wonwoo rubbed himself against your stomach, claiming for your attettion. "this book is boring" he said, leaving the book on the floor. "I mean it's not boring but I already know who is the killer" he continued, putting his hand inside your hoodie and on your skin, making your heart buzz a little and making you shrink a little.

"mine is pretty fine, you made a good choice" you said ignoring your boyfriend lifting his hand to your rib cage and depositing a brief kiss against the line of your sweatpants.

"yeah? did you liked you present baby?" he said while his hand travelled through your body, his fingertips touching the valley between your bobs and resting against your neck. "i always think of you when i see pretty things."

"you know i liked wonu, i almost cried when you showed me the whole bag you brought back full of presents." you saying running your fingers thought his short hair, he almost never used liked that and you dont know why but made you more attatched to it. wonwoo laughed, that almost scoffing sound full of air.

"that's what my baby deserves" he kissed your stomach and retreated his hand just so he could grab you by the hips with both hands. "I'm such a nice boyfriend, and yet you leave me bored out of my mind because of a book." he said playing with the hem of your pants.

"you are acting like I ignored you for an hour." you finally bookmark the page of your book knowing that it is a lost fight. You are not reading a sentence anymore.

"not a hour" your boyfriend finally gets off the sofa just so he can take off your pants, he lays between your legs again and he presses a kiss against you clothed pussy making you catch your breath. "a few minutes at least"

"not even five minutes baby" you complain while opening more your legs so your boyfriend gets comfortable, he just squirm a little and plant his big hands in your thighs.

"more than twenty for sure." he says while he travel his fingers against your clothed pussy, putting more pressure at your clitoris making you whimper pathetically.

"not that much." somehow even to yourself your voice sound pitiful, wonwoo barely did anything to you and somehow you are almost begging already.

"did so." he says without leaving his fingers against your pussy, and you can almost feel his fingertip through the cloth, the way your wetness is spreading somehow makes you feel that the cloth is getting thinner, almost disappearing but still not enough. "I love watching you." he pauses and presses a kiss in your pussy, and you feel his wet tongue against you. "you are so pretty all over, I just can't take my eyes off you" he says as he presses his fingers against your entrance.

"not fair." you protest while your fingers find solace in the pillow by your head.

"what baby?" he tuts. "cant i find my girlfriend pretty?" he says while he finally pushes your panty to the side. he pinches your pussy. "so fucking pretty and so fucking messy."

"wonu" you protest again feelling a little faint, a little dumb like you always gets when wonwoo talks to you like that, with his voice low like he is telling you a secret making your insides coil.

"fucking love your pussy" he says before finally putting his mouth against you, hot breath fanning over your pussy until you feel his tongue between your folds. and its like being submersed in a way, searching for air but not getting enough. wonwoo pushes your legs up and you come back to reality a little bit, the way his fingers presses against your flesh anchors you.

"god" wonwoo murmurs. "i could live like that" he says while his fingers left your thigh and comes to grope at your pussy, pressing his palm against your puffy lips. "could live eating you out" he says against your thights while you feel his fingers at your entrance, and he push just a little, making you go a tad bit crazy, putting your arms above your head and arching your back, trying to make his finger go in just a little bit more. "don't worry baby I will give It to you."

And you just feel a little bit more out of your mind, a little more hot, a little more denraged, the way his speaks to you just make you squirm because his voice is so full of adoration, like every word is just full of lust that make you clench and you just give up feeling his hot mouth against you, his tongue going against your folds. He keeps lapping at your pussy like he is getting so fucking drunk, you lock eyes with him and he just suck your clit while you feel his second finger aagainst you.

"baby please-" you finally beg and you dont even need to finish because wonwoo just knows what you need and his just put his second finger in you, and in a way it feels so much but not enough, you feel so tight, like every muscle of your body is working. You give up, you just need a little bit more, so you trail your hands against yourself, searching, you put your hand inside your hoodie, finding your boobs and squeezing.

wonwoo mouth leaves your pussy and you whine, his free hands lifting up your hoodie so he can watch you playing with yourself. His eyes travel between your hands and pussy like he can't make a choice. "fuck" he laughs a little "you are just so hot." and he just bite the skin at your hips. "so wet and taking my fingers so well" he changes his position and presses his hand against your tigh so you open your legs for him. "look at you" he coos "you have such a pretty cunt." He says while he keeps fucking your with his fingers. You whine again, feeling desperated, hasty, but you are just at the end of the cliff almost falling and wonwoo just know, he takes his other hand and just pinch at your clit making your moan. "come on baby, you can do it, just a little one and i give you my cock hun? just know you gonna take it so well gonna split you open in a little bit."

and you just fall apart thinking about the way his dick would feel.

[pocket-watcher]

I just got fucking whiplash because I looked up from my food to see KFC plastering “look into my fries” on their screen I choked on my drink

[crowleyholmes]

Guys help I think Crowley is possessing me I am very suddenly overcome by such a WAVE of love for Aziraphale????

I mean I've always loved him but Jesus Christ it just got turned up to 100 suddenly I mean he's just so GOOD isn't he???!!!

He's so kind and he's so nice and he's so PRETTY I mean have you seen him in his little outfit with the comfortable-old-couch waistcoat he refuses to ever take off and the silly little bowtie he thinks is so stylish and you know it actually KIND OF IS but ONLY on him??!?! and that beige coat that suits him so well and he just looks so well put together and also so soft and cozy at the same time like HAVE YOU SEEN HIM???

And he's so gentle and he's so full of love for everyone and everything and he always tries So Hard to do the right thing... and he's so ready to change his mind about what The Right Thing is when he is presented with new information like that is such a rare trait!

And he's so FUN, you know all his weird little hobbies I mean who collects old prophecy books and misprinted bibles ONLY this weirdo!! And he's so obsessed with silly little magic tricks that aren't even magic at all when he could very easily do real magic instead but noooo, making people think you're doing real magic when your Not Actually doing real magic is so much more fun apparently idk??? And he collects licenses (shooting guns, driving cars, literally who knows what else, at this point I wouldn't be surprised if my guy knew how to scuba dive and fly a plane), and he learned French the hard way just because?? He likes learning I guess?? And he's so bad at it, it's so silly it's Infuriating but it's also so endearing he's taking such JOY in it!!

And maybe you'd THINK that's all he is, sweet little goofball, but no!!!! Beneath all that soft exterior, this very intentionally soft and fun and kind exterior that he's carefully cultivated for millennia, he's also so incredibly brave. I think about how he was ready to face the thing he feared the most, to save three innocent kids. He was so ready to give up everything he had, fall from grace and spend eternity in hell, just so these kids could live. Just so that family would be spared the grief. Just so they could have a few more short years of human happiness. He lied to his boss for justice and he lied to GOD for justice and he somehow got away with it who does that??? AZIRAPHALE IS WHO. And he Never backs down did you see him pick up his little sword at almost-Armageddon when Lucifer himself rose from hell to end it all and my angel was ready to fight Satan Himself if he had to HELLO???

And then he blew up his halo and casually declared war on hell to save two humans and his former boss and his bookshop what a fucking badass!!?!?

And have I mentioned how pretty he is yes I have but it's worth mentioning again because have you seen his eyes?? Color of the fucking sky, they are, and his nose is so perfectly shaped and his stupid lips with his stupid cupid's bow, and his hair!! Is just so Damn soft it's and I just want to watch him be himself and do his thing but I also want to HOLD him and protect him and keep him safe from everything because if anything ever happened to him I-... UGH.

I don't KNOW.

I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

[synthshenanigans]

You Sound Like Louis Burdett is a banger song I wish it was real 💔 [looking at you spotify]

skeleton-less & textless versions ✨ wahoo ✨

[sushi6top]

SPOILERS FOR THE THOUSAND YEAR DOOR AHEAD

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The shadow queen as a normal siren this was fun to make!

[raisinushigher]

leftover doodles

[thegreatyin]

this nemesis ambition started out a little slow but I am getting closer to finding that bastard who killed my wife, and I’ll not rest a minute now that im far closer to on his trail

sorry got in character for a second

Anyways fun ambition so far very fucked up though

congratulations on joining the murder club anon!!!! depending on who you ask the name refers to either people who have murdered or people who have witnessed murder. usually both. actually extremely often both. it's a swell time you'll feel right at home (don't mind our collective skyglass knife collection in the back)

[uncanny-tranny]

A (non-exhaustive) list of reasons trans people might not tell you or other people that they're trans:

They might not know if you are close enough to them to warrant a coming out

They might have thought you already knew

They might not be interested in you, and thus don't think it's necessary

They're stealth and don't want people to spread around the fact they're trans to everybody (because they are stealth)

They want to be physically and mentally safe

They don't plan on being in a certain space long enough for personal information like that to feel appropriate

You are not their medical provider

It's not inherently anybody's business