#open to constructive criticism

[pastel-lemonn]

First time drawing in digital in a loooong time lol and mainly for experimenting with designs (mercury's fit sucks 💀), colours, ibis paint...so it's not very good (there is one mistake with the coloring of the pants that annoys the hell outta me but it is what it is I ain't going back)

Credits for the inspiration for the design (way more than inspo ngl) @pixillandjester , super cool and I love their art 🙏

Also the situation is supposed to be Venus chasing down mercury and said planet hiding behind earth lol

[symptomsoflettinggo]

nightmare blunt rotation

[tsunoderailleur]

catboys: oscar, alex, lewis, charles, fernando, guanyu, max, pierre, checo

dogboys: george, lando, daniel, yuki, esteban, franco, kmag, hulk, lance, carlos, valtteri

[stroobooree]

hjnngghj these head turnarounds would be VERY useful for keeping my characters consistent… but GODDDDD they are such a pain 😭

The urge to just say “fuck it we ball” and stay an inconsistent king is strong

Looking back on it I’m now just realizing I only need one 3/4 and one side view because I can just.. flip it if I need a different one. Oops. Also I gotta get used to drawing characters from behind

[aster-petrichor]

Dead Boy Detectives Fanfiction

So I gave into the brainrot and have done actual writing for the fandom. Granted it isn't my usual genre but Ch1 is probably gonna be an outlier for the tone of the rest of the fic. Read the tags b4 reading.

The Dead Boy Detectives (and co.) Agency

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:Multi

Fandom:Dead Boy Detectives (TV)

Relationships:Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland,Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/The Cat King | Thomas

Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, The Cat King | Thomas, Charles Rowland (Dead Boy Detectives), Crystal Palace (Dead Boy Detectives), Niko Sasaki (Dead Boy Detectives)

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Smut, Porn With Plot, Hook-Up, Enthusiastic Consent, Polyamory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Author Is Sleep Deprived

Also here is a teaser for Ch2! :

While Charles had figured out how to fall through floors, he hadn’t quite figured out the landing part yet and so found himself sprawled across the fluffy carpet in Niko’s room. She turned in her seat at the vanity  to look at him, hair half braided. She smiled, fully used to her ghost flatmates having little concept of privacy. Or doors.

“Hey, Niko,” Charles greeted her warmly. “Seen Edwin anywhere?”

Niko giggled, attention fixed at a point somewhere behind Charles. “Maybe,” she sing-songed.

[notsosecretlifeofsam]

Frankie Stein B]

[carpie122]

If you put something away and out of sight whos to say it’s real anymore?

Who’s to say it was ever real in the first place?

Schrödinger had it figured.

He knew it was better to wonder than know.

Let my problems be his

Locked in a box at the back of my closet.

Out of sight out of mind.

Lost and forgotten

like all my left socks and things you said to me that night you left.

[charlie-shmarlie]

Wide mouthed.

Just some silly little writing practice cause I'm trying to start good habits ✌️🖤

----------------------------

There I laid in petrified stillness. Unable to move and breathless. I stared at the thing through opened doors that I recalled closing before sleeping.

The foul perched itself upon the balcony. Its hooked talons gripping the iron bars. The color of its feathers reflected that of a deep, blackened abyss. Its beak, broken and scarred, as if it had been clawed at by its piers, hung open widely ajar. Almost impossibly so. As if long dead and limp, tongue dangling in the air.

Inside its mouth, past the pink, squishy flesh, lied multiple teeth lined up in rows of twos and abnormally square. It made not a single sound. Not a squawk, a coo, or even a scream. And it carried a certain stench like burnt meat and soured milk that made my stomach churn with dread.

I couldn't bring my eyes to look away from it, although I so desperately wanted to. It stared back at me. And I could have sworn I had seen the sides of its beak twitch upwards, hinting at a grin that mostly remained underneath its exterior.

There was no doubt.

I knew that I was looking upon the face of death.

[yaboiozzy]

Finally finished this ref for Ozias' armor. It has an AI disturbance filter over everything but the color palette. Because fuck AI.

Still using my old watermark until I can figure out what I want my new one to be.

[lord-leaf]

Day 6 of learning to draw! I decided to design myself an axe.

[amapolamystery]

I hope you've all had a happy Black History Month! Here's my entry for @creatingblackcharacters' Black History Month Challenge! I thought it was a great opportunity to celebrate the first African cartoon coming to Cartoon Network :} so here's Iyanu!

My message for my Black viewers is this: You are entitled to take up space in art communities. Regardless of skill level, regardless of experience, regardless of how big or small your artistic goals are. Every artist is valuable, and you're no exception! Expressing yourself is a wonderful thing, and there will always be someone who is thrilled to see your work! So keep creating, or don't think twice about getting started! Wherever you go, you'll find your community, because Black artists shine everywhere ✨

While this is a very last minute entry, I wanted to tag my friends @cxffncase and @bodegadulac in case they want to pitch in!

[whomstsnek]

I’d love to see some Kremy and Torbek interactions that don’t suck

Have Torbek give Kremy a forehead kiss of forgiveness (platonic or romantic ur choice)

for you, anything <3

very VERY mild spoilers for S2 (just the setting)

---

“This is all my fault!”

A pulse of thunder echoed across the valley, the only other sound in the little campsite Carnival Lecroux called home. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, Kremy wasn’t even sure any of them were still breathing. All eyes were on him. He felt dizzy, he felt raw and exposed, air leaving his lungs with each desperate gasp, but none seeming to come back in.

“I fucked y’all over. We’re all gonna die, and there’s nothing we can do about it, and it’s all my fuckin’ fault!”

All at once his body gave out, knees buckling, and he collapsed onto the ground. He hardly noticed the cool, wet squish of mud seeping into his pinstripe pants, or the cruel, sharp wind whipping at him mercilessly. His face felt wet—was it the strange rains of Yon, or bitter tears he didn’t deserve to cry? Kremy couldn’t tell, and he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

He doubled over like he’d been hit, body curling over itself protectively, one arm clawing at the earth beneath him and the other wrapping tightly around himself in a mimicry of comfort. Each breath came like it was being torn from him, his hunched form wracked with painful sobs. Nobody moved.

“I’m sorry.”

The words felt strange in his throat, oily on his tongue, the truth of them choking him.

“I’m so sorry.”

Nobody moved.

Kremy continued to writhe helplessly in the mud, repeating those words over and over and over again like they would save him. Somewhere in the back of his stupid, selfish mind, he had hoped one of them would come to his aid, would roll him over and pull him close and tell him he had nothing to be sorry for. Maybe they had left, he mused as the minutes ticked by with nothing to show. Maybe this was the final straw, maybe they all had finally had enough of him and moved on. Maybe he would die here alone in a mess of his own making. The thought was solace as much as it was agony.

A pair of boots stepped into his blurry field of vision, matted brown hair and overgrown nails poking out of what must have once been fine leather. Kremy swallowed the guilt and bile rising dangerously in his throat. Not him. Why him?

Torbek didn’t say anything as he slowly padded over, large foot prints pooling with rainwater in his wake. He squatted down in front of the other, but Kremy couldn’t meet his gaze, too afraid of the hate and anger he knew he’d see in those big, sad eyes.

Another cry—perhaps a sob, perhaps a scream—was ripped from his throat as long arms wrapped around his body, pulling Kremy up into Torbek’s hold like he was something fragile, something precious, and the bugbear’s chin came softly to rest atop Kremy’s hat-less head. Thin hands with too-long fingers ran gingerly across Kremy’s back and shoulders, rubbing small circles into hard scales while Kremy hiccuped and whined pitifully in his grasp. They sat there like that for some time, days for all Kremy knew, before Torbek shifted him in his arms and pressed his thin, chapped lips into the spot where his chin had rested.

“Torbek forgives you, Kremy.”

Kremy burned with something he couldn’t identify; it was like everything had come into focus for the first time, far too much after far too little. Every brush of hair against his scales, every heavy drop of rain falling from on high, every place where Torbek’s hands held him together, it all seemed alight. It scared him, more than death, more than the hags, maybe even more than Garou.

“I don’t deserve it.” he mumbled, voice hoarse and words painful, the sound of them barely carrying over the roaring storm.

“Torbek knows.” Torbek pulled Kremy in closer, cradling him so close that Kremy could hear the other’s heartbeat. “Torbek forgives you anyways.”

Torbek’s hands continued to smooth up and down Kremy’s spine, and Kremy could still feel the spot on his head where Torbek had kissed him, and it all burned, but he didn’t leave, and Torbek didn’t make him. Slowly, the rain began to clear, and the world began to move, but Torbek still stayed.

Eventually, Kremy knew he would someday need to apologize for this, too—this was too much, too selfish of him, too needy—but that could come later.

For now, everything was warm.

[star-41306]

Pushing It Down and Praying (pt.0 here)

‘Isn’t this what you wanted? To feel loved?’ my brain asks. ‘It doesn’t feel like love.’ my heart supplied

I love him, kiss his mouth, prayin'.. He can't see what I see

I follow him carefully to his bedroom, my shoes faltering on the hardwood. ‘What I would give to live in a house like this one’

He leads me up the stairs, glancing back at me as we travel upwards. We walk down a short hallway until- 

“Here we are,” he says with a smile. The door creaks open gently, an invitation. I stay in the hallway as he sits on the bed, expectantly. He said his parents aren't home, but I survey the hallway until I deem it safe. ‘No one saw.’

I approach Chance unsteady, lips trembling, heart in my throat. He doesn't seem to notice. I walk up to the space between his legs, unsure of where to put my hands. 

He grabs my waist, ‘I guess he knows where to put his.’ and smirks up at me. He opens his mouth, seemingly about to say something. I finally rest my hands on his shoulders, right next to his dark brown hair. He doesn’t say anything though.

When I close my eyes.. You replace him

Suddenly his mouth is on mine. It’s warm, almost tantalizing, but my mind is somewhere else. Somewhere with darker hair, kinder eyes, rosier lips. ‘Focus Will, who knows when you’ll get another opportunity like this’ 

I try to kiss back. It’s uncomfortable, with teeth clashing and too much tongue. ‘I wish he were someone else’

His hands push up my shirt, appearing to search for something. I pull away fast. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Woah, calm down. I was just trying to spice things up.” He dismissed me. I look in his eyes, and now I'm the one searching. I can't find anything.

“You said.. Just kissing. Nothing else.” is my shaky reply

“We are kissing” is his solid one

“But-”

“Look, if you aren’t ready for this, just say that. But good luck finding anyone else.” he says unbothered, leaning back on the mattress lazily.

Wearin' no disguise.. You erase him

I sit with that. He’s right and I know it. By the smug look on his face, he knows that I’ve caught up. “So?” It hits me like freezing water. 

“Okay.” I move back to where I was, maybe even closer. He raises back up and puts his hands back in their place. I move mine into his hair, tugging lightly. I realize the stakes. ‘I’m a queer in Indiana. This is the best I'm gonna get. Even if I want something more’

I try to distract myself from the nausea, and use the thoughts of my bestfriend to my advantage. “Somewhere else, somewhere else, somewhere else.. someone else.”

His lips are back on mine.

I wanna feel guilty, I wanna feel that it's wrong I wanna know peace again, Wanna sing a different song..

I imagine his sharp face, his soft voice, his careful hands. If they were his, maybe it wouldn’t feel so wrong. Or maybe it would feel worse. Yeah, worse. ‘Focus’

‘But would it?-’

“Hey” a voice unlike the one i’m thinking of interrupts my thoughts. It's deeper, sharp like chipped wood. 

“Yeah?” 

“You wanna-”

A phone rings in the distance, coming from downstairs.

“Oh shit, give me a minute, yeah?”

And he’s gone

Left standing there with my thoughts, the disgust festers.

‘Isn’t this what you wanted? To feel loved?’ my brain asks

‘It doesn’t feel like love,’ my heart supplied ‘you know what love feels like.’

I keep imagining him even without the counterfeit versions' presence.

‘I’d rather never have Mike in that way than kiss a guy that kind of looks like him.’

I want you to need me I need to want somethin' more He gives what he can But now I don't know what he's givin' for.

Next thing I know, I’m out the door.

(pt. 2)

[cuddlesthecut]

Idk what to title this

Roughly inspired by a sewing project I told myself I would finish and quit after the first leg. sorry marigold the voodoo doll, you were never meant to live

[glowsticcc]

i’ve been wanting to put sunny in different hairstyles since i first designed them and today i satiated that need

i like to headcanon that q!tubbo learned how to do her hair but whenever she winces bc he pulled a little too hard a part of his soul dies :D

[carpie122]

Sin is a stain only God can wipe clean.

But I fear I have become His ratty old night shirt

Forever stained.

“What’s the point?” He says,”it’ll just dirty again”

No matter how I beg

I’m just not worth the cost of detergent.