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[thefoodwiththedood]

New trailer for Zermi's Paradox! The film is nearly complete, and I'm going to be over the moon to see it all together!

To support the film's production, and get access to some cool behind-the-scenes content, become a backer on Patreon today!

[into-the-feniverse]

It’s Dabi’s birthday over here in the states now so have some doodles 🔥

[skaluli]

my little fortress : fighting is magic scout + bonus sniper

(top left is my concept/ideas for snipers cutiemark ill make a final design one day

these 3 thingys are from a while ago

[charrfie]

We're Addisons! All we do is advertise!

Finally got some official references worked out for these guys! I've had their designs in my head (or in half finished ref sheets and other sketches) for the longest time but I never properly finished something and wrote down notes about it. Here they all are now!!

[intoxxiicated]

OLNF oc infodump :]

Step 1:

“baroness of the bandages”

i wanted to follow the template for qiu and tammy’s intro sheets, so where qiu and tammy are the king/queen, aspen is the baroness—the lowest rank of nobility since she doesn’t think too highly of herself in step 1. she’s clumsy so she’s got a lot of bandages plastered everywhere.

the colour palette is bright for this step, she’s just expressing herself.

Step 2:

“mediator of the monarchs”

we’re still not sure what caused tam and qiu to be not friends with each other—but ever since the ‘breakup’, aspen has been the mediator for them (monarchs referring to step 1 queen tam and king qiu), having to keep things civil.

this takes a toll on her, of course, having to be the peacemaker between two of her closest friends, and she only wants them to make up again. she does get bitter about it though—getting tired of being the one keeping them together.

the ‘tightrope’ aspen’s balancing on is actually a metaphor for both his identity (trans!) and his neighbours. it also explains the more neutral colour palette of his clothes for this step.

Step 3:

“gentleman of the generation”

(lets pretend that says step 3 on the infocard LOL) aspen is transmasc! and he’s proud. he’s changed a lot from his kid self.

he’s on his way to become a fashion designer! (headcannon that if qiu and tammy are still ballet dancer/musician respectively, he designs clothes for them to wear during their performances :])

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[umblrspectrum]

after 10 thousand years i have finally put together that Hey. I Can Make My Own Characters

[ctrl-alt-deleting-yr-face]

AU where Bedman gets revived by Asuka’s weird apprentice and is now full of anger and hatred at the fact that his situation has changed and he’s suddenly alive and awake. Oh and he plays the piano.

I would’ve drawn more for this but it’s almost 5am and also i’m. horrid at drawing quickly. Anyways feel free to ask about the AU! I’m much better at expressing my ideas through words than through art anyways ^^

[living-la-vida-lesbian]

batfam members as genshin impact characters (5/7): Damian Wayne

i like how this one turned out, his hair looks better than i thought it would

@cosmicpoutine part 5 of the project feat. my boy damian

part 1 (dick)

part 2 (jason)

part 3 (tim)

part 4 (steph)

part 6 (duke)

part 7 (cass)

[kiisaes]

every now and again I think about bakugou's "aji fry" shirt in order to draw it, but I have just now connected the dots that he's wearing a food shirt, and a ridiculous one at that. it's like wearing a shirt with just the word "burger and fries" on it. I also like to think that the shirt comes in multiple colors but he purposefully chose black, bc the rest of his closet is black. insane. he claims he and deku aren't alike but he's JUST like deku and his silly "shirt" shirts

[thecryptidart1st]

—TERMINATED EMPLOYEE—

[dino--draws]

HEY BESTIES CHECK WHAT I FINISHED. NEW SCP ANIMATIC JUST DROPPED

Come look for “65% scenes from the article and 35% aggressive creative liberty because I can do whatever I want” but i put a startling amount of thought into this and I hope y’all enjoy

[sleepy-stitches]

google search how to safely have my friends from other groups smell each other through the door like cats so they can be introduced

[foundationsofdecay]

Okay, I've finally made a list of most of my Sleep Token lore and analysis posts! Divided by categories under the cut, with improvised titles and brief descriptions for each.

Posts are listed in reverse-chronological order per category, except for crossovers.

The catch-all hashtag for these is #aqua's offerings, in case you prefer to look through them that way.

Longer Form Posts:

Duck Into Deep Blue Safety - Comparing the composition of Drag Me Under, Atlantic, and Fall For Me as to how solos are used to describe physical isolation, separation, and the spectrum bridging spiritual wholeness and estrangement.

Show Me What Wounds You've Got - On begging, emotional vulnerability, and our agency as audience and character.

If a Man Falls, and Nobody's There to Hear Him... - An addition-by-reblog to this post by @melit0n about Fall For Me, continuing the exploration of silence and vocals and the implications of Vessel's isolation and actions in the song.

So He Gets To Die A Saint - Martyrdom and the desire to save and be saved, but the uncertainty of who is saving who, and to what end.

Something Was Between You and I My Dear - Musings on the theory posited by @a-s-levynn that separates Vessel as his masked self and as his unmasked self into two separate characters, and what that means for a potential reading of the events of the trilogy, particularly its ending.

I Would Turn Into A Stranger In An Instant if I Could - A deep dive into DYWTYLM with themes of identity loss and the effects of a long-term yet one-sided relationship.

Flood Me Like Atlantic - An examination of the metaphor of being dragged into and under someone's love throughout the course of the discography, and how it reflects in the shifting characterization of both Vessel and the character being sung about.

Would You Invite Me In Again? - A look at cycles of union and disconnect, of love as a melding of body and soul in addition to a rending of body and soul, and the cyclical nature of this dichotomy, primarily through the lens of Drag Me Under and Blood Sport.

So Let's Play - A look into how the language of games and winners and losers is used and evolves throughout their discography.

With My Love as Your Garden - Exploring the lyrics regarding flowers and gardens, of upkeep and of fire, and how it relates to the relationship between Vessel and his lover, described here as Sleep.

Welcome Me In, Deep Into You - Side-by-side examination of Vore and Drag Me Under and their language as it pertains to consumption and consummation, and the respective tones those carry.

Drag Me Under AGAAAAAIN - An addendum to my second Sleep Token x TDH crossover post (linked further below) that brings Drag Me Under into the fold of Atlantic and Telomeres, as requested by @moonchild-in-blue. Elaborates further on the entwining of Vessel and Sleep, of their love and the idea of inevitability.

Duet - Proposing and elaborating on the concept of the song Give being a duet between Vessel and Sleep with alternating POVs.

Other Other Eye - A look at Ascensionism, particularly the lines regarding eyes and attention and conflicting desire. [note: written very early into my posting theory/analysis, somewhat outdated]

Catching a Falling Knife - Using the metaphor of "catching a falling knife" and the general stock market as lens to examine the power dynamics between Vessel and Sleep.

Mini Musings:

Rain Can't Wash Away the Tar on the Inside - Consideration of the lyrics implying Vessel has been trapped by tar and subsumed in it both from the outside and from within.

Keep an Eye on the Road - A quick talk about visuals of crashing cars and mentions of various roadways, and being trapped in untenable situations.

The Vicious Cycle - Cycles and the breaking thereof within the discography.

My Puppet Queen - The dehumanizing language used towards Vessel, specifically as a toy or object.

Glitches in the Code - Considers Vessel as a literal algorithm, and how that reflects in his vocals and degeneration throughout the narrative and what it would say about his relationship with Sleep.

Mirror Talk - Notes on mirrors and both outer and inner reflections.

Are You Watching Me? - Different ways eyes are described as it relates to prey and predation, and Vessel struggling with human nature and humanity.

A Different Harbor - Musing on the peculiar use and otherwise of language regarding boats, harbors, and anchors.

You Want Someone To Be - Concept post about a more literal take on lovers entwined, to both want to become the other, and the loss of understanding of what it means to be yourself without them.

Crossovers:

TDH x Sleep Token #1 - Love as a crashing wave, questions of fate, choosing love despite the clear doomed nature, using The Dear Hunter's Waves as a frame of reference.

TDH x Sleep Token #2 - Uses The Dear Hunter's Vital Vessels Vindicate as a lens to provide a different perspective through which to examine Vessel, death, and what it means to choke and suffocate underwater.

[ouw11]

dropping whizzvin & natsby art in a few days

[anominous-user]

full versions of my de-sticked/hsr'ed version of triple threat

types + paths