#queue are so busted

[redandfranticfeelings]

spent the past several weeks sketching teenage/college-aged wordgirl characters because having fun is part of life.

(my main design philosophy is that i headcanon the show to be set in the late 80s or early 90s so i sometimes lean into those trends when drawing them as teens -- you can't see it under his hat but scoops has dicaprio-esque "curtain" bangs lmao)

[mammoth-clangen]

Ok so technically Summit won but i have no self control so u get Steppe Prowl as well, bc she already has a ref from her debut >:3

Ice Fangs have both a given name and a surname, which are passed from mother to daughter and father to son (trans individuals can decide which parent they prefer to take after, or which children are given theirs, ie: Summit took his father's) This will be explained in comic too but it's not a spoiler so i have decided you are allowed to know as part of the teaser cx

Important: No, these two having refs does not mean they will inherently be joining the Kindred! As you can imagine that would cause quite a stir XD

Enjoy this meme i made months ago while drawing Moon 6 X'D

[shewhorunsmazes]

“Ai is the future; the future is now. And sucks. The future is both now and sucks.” - Breanna

just like with thelma… those scammers really scammed the wrong meemaw… also… we got some genuine harry whump this episode! which really has me thriving

[ryuichifoxe]

Trying to make a little money to tide me over as far as gas and food are concerned, at least until I dog sit next week :>

I brought back one of my old ych poses from the beyond, now that some time has gone by and I'm no longer tired of it :'D Also, a new pose! And I have one slot left for a dnd style token.

Link to my commission page

Example of the bust tokens!

[teekapoa]

[therighthandofvengeance]

Sheridan: why is there a coffee plant in the gardens?

Ivanova: do you want me to truly learn “The Fine Art of Diplomacy”?

Sheridan: yes, I do.

Ivanova: then you didn’t see anything and you don’t even know it exists.

[deerspherestudios]

What rating will Mushroom Oasis be? I didn't see it anywhere, but I might just be blind, lol.

PG-13! Just creepy spooks and Mychael being Mychael. Nothing explicit or NSFW planned!

[hazeism]

And Earth has been crazy I hope Daneel and Trevize fuckkkk (it's only his custom!!!)

context for the first image:

[coneheadseekers]

omg a conehead-focused account, am I dreaming??

I was STARVING through Tumblr searching for content of my fav little conical blue guy who can't catch a break and then, out of nowhere, I see this account, and I'm dazzled- Are you even real? Please tell me you are and confirm the existence of conehead enjoyers.

Believe it or not, fellow conefan, you're not dreaming. You've simply left behind the unconely transformer rabble and entered into...

✈🍧The Cone Zone 🍧✈

Please enjoy your stay.

[feline-evil]

I forgor to reblog my husbands art for a few days cuz i've been mostly lettin the queue do its thing so everyone enjoy husband art blast bc if you dont cheer and clap and scream for him ill blow us all up

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

#in the original story azor ahai's wife willingly gave her life so her husband could become the hero #it's something we've seen many times in stories: the woman dies so the man can be the hero #(it's not a feminist story but that does not make azor ahai a villain) #but daenerys mercy kills drogo #she is not doing it to become a hero but because it's cruel to let him live a vegetative life (and rhaego was an unintentional sacrifice) #and unlike the typical story here the man dies so the woman can be the hero #also re azor ahai being a villain because he killed his wife to forge lightbringer (the sword that saved humanity): #i saw people theorizing that jon will kill dany to forge lightbringer like azor ahai did with nissa nissa (the same story being told again) #yet no one says that this would make jon a villain #unsurprisingly the “azor ahai is a villain” comes only when daenerys is considered being azor ahai (via @mikastormborn)

From time to time, I see some people argue that Dany can't be Azor Ahai because Azor Ahai was a man who killed his wife and such a character can't be considered a hero. So Dany couldn't be Azor Ahai because she is a hero and because such a feminist character like Dany can't be associated with Azor Ahai.

I agree that Dany is a hero, and I agree that Azor Ahai killing his wife is not the most feminist story. But I disagree with the idea that this means Dany isn't Azor Ahai, because literally all the foreshadowing points to her, she fulfills every aspect of the prophecy. Just because we as readers might think there's a moral dissonance in Dany being Azor Ahai, doesn't mean that she isn't. Whether we as readers might not like her being Azor Ahai, whether we think it's not feminist for Dany to be Azor Ahai, it doesn't change the fact that GRRM wrote all the clues pointing to her.

Also, while some people may argue that it's not feminist for Dany to be Azor Ahai because the original Azor Ahai killed his wife, other people might argue that Dany being Azor Ahai is a feminist subversion, because everybody expects the prophesied hero to be a man.

[keeps-ache]

really cool idea for something and i have Got to make time for this stuff lol

[thewolfruns]

i've got my drafts down to about ten! which means i'm back on my bullshit, lol. so like this for me to go through your opens and reply. or you're welcome to check out mine here!

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink, sickfic, SFW, requested.

Mara is surprised to see him. "Hey Captain Riley."

He nods. “She in the back?” The knit between her eyebrows is quizzical, and she shakes her head.

“What? No… she went home. Hours ago. Said she didn’t feel well.” He doesn’t bother to school his expression into neutrality, and she turns sheepish, like somehow she’s the one in trouble now. “I told her to call you. She was nearly falling asleep back there. Almost face planted in the batter of these cookies.” She points to an artfully arranged tower of chocolate chip cookies, their little placard labeling them as ‘brown butter’. What that means, he’s not sure. 

“How long ago did she leave?” He had no idea you were sick. Worse, you didn’t say anything. You lied by omission, sending your usual morning text messages, your before lunch check in with zero mention of feeling unwell. 

He’s not angry with you, because he understands you. This is uneven footing, new territory, a lot to learn for his little fawn. You’re finding your way in this new life, and he has plenty of time.

 A learning experience, that’s all this is. 

“Like… an hour ago? Maybe two?” A frown tugs his lips towards his chin. 

“Her car is still in the lot.” 

“Oh yeah… she walked.” Walked? You walked? 

Your ass is going to be sore for a week. 

There’s a queue forming behind him, so he steps back, gives her a parting glance before turning to leave. “Thanks Mara.” 

“Tell her I hope she feels better!” 

You live on the fourth floor. The elevator in your building is busted, along with the front door’s lock, and there are no cameras, no security, nothing stopping anyone from walking inside. 

Just his baby in a fourth floor apartment with a measly deadbolt and chain. 

You’ll be so much happier at home with him.

It takes three tries for you to come to the door, and when you find him on the other side, your expression splits in two, one side saturated with relief, the other, buzzing with nerves, but somehow still half asleep. 

“H-hi.” You croak, sweating and shivering, standing there in only a t-shirt. 

Miserable. You look miserable. 

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, stepping inside, immediately placing the back of his hand to your forehead, trailing down your chin to find your pulse fluttering beneath your jaw. It’s elevated, and you’re burning up, tears gathering on your waterline, threatening to fall.

"D-daddy," you hiccup, trembling, reaching for him just as he pulls you into his chest with a palm against your neck, rubbing circles at your nape as he takes a quick look around. He’s never been inside your apartment before, though he’s been tempted multiple times, made the trip to your building often, ensuring you’re home safe, watching the comings and goings of others who live here, looking for any red flags or reasons for immediate concern. He’s inspected empty units, tested the standard locks, checked for mold and mildew. It’s adequate, but your own flat is too cramped, and he knows you feel boxed in. 

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Let me look at you." He tips your chin up and moves into your line of sight, glassy, glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. "Have you seen a doctor?”

“No,” you sniffle, immediately planting your face back into his sternum, “’s just a cold.” 

“You don’t get a fever with a cold sweetheart. Have you taken anything?” He doesn't panic. It's not in his programming, not a part of his reality but seeing you like this, in distress, suffering, is starting to rewire long dormant standards.

“Don’t have a fever.” There’s a short hallway across the living room, two doors on either end, one he assumes is your bedroom, and he starts moving that way, keeping you tucked against him. “I took some naproxen.” You’re floating along with his direction without a single peep, barely recognizing where you are when he sits you down on the edge of your bed. 

First things first. He has to get you out of these clothes and into something dry. “This has to come off baby girl, it’s wet.” 

“Wet?” You’re barely holding yourself up, and he probably only has a few minutes before you’re out. 

“Your body is trying to regulate it's temperature, so you've been sweating.” He finds pajamas in the top drawer of your dresser, lips rolling into a smile as he unfurls the t-shirt. “Gremlins?” You throw him a squinty glare. 

“It’s a good movie.” He brushes his lips across your forehead, tasting the slick of salt before pulling away and tapping your shoulders. 

“Arms up.” You oblige without question, the trust that sometimes gets lost in this newfound dance shining through brilliantly. His hands brush against your ribs, your belly as he slides them beneath the hem of your shirt and tries not to wince at the scorching temperature of your skin. “Good girl. Don’t want you going back to sleep all sweaty do we?” He quickly pats the sheets, relieved to find them dry. 

“No daddy.” Such a sweet girl. You roll instinctively, burrowing in the mound of things in your bed, knees curling up towards your belly. There are at least three different colored fuzzy blankets in your bed, six pillows, and a stuffed cat of some kind, something about it vaguely familiar but difficult to place. A crumpled notebook with loopy handwriting and small drawings adorning the pages is wedged beneath your hip, and there’s a kindle sitting on the other side along with an empty water bottle. The frame itself has a shelf at the head of the bed, and it’s lined with stuff… a small lamp, a ceramic cupcake, a collection of seashells, chapstick, lotion, an empty mug, a glowing mushroom, along with two pairs of glasses and a few candles. It’s clear this is your space, where you’re safe and comfortable, a nest of your own making, a place just for you, and it’s fitting, all of it. Each little piece is perfect just like you. 

He lets you sleep while he cleans and refills your water bottle, finds the naproxen and your towels, pulling a washcloth out so he can run it under cold water for your head. You definitely have a fever, but if you can break it on your own there’s no reason to take you to a doctor. Time will tell, but if it gets worse, you’ll have to go immediately. 

Tally marks for today’s transgressions sit quietly on a slate in the back of his mind for far later, satisfying realization settling in against his soul. You’ve earned a spanking, and stricter rules. 

It’s a fine line. He doesn’t punish for the sake of punishing, there’s nothing good in it for him, or you, but he will punish you for things like this, things that put you in harms way, things like not telling him you’re sick and in need of help. Things like fucking walking ten blocks home. He’ll punish you for stepping outside a boundary, or failing to follow a rule, all of it a double edged sword, one he wields delicately, because often, punishments come with their own rewards, whether they be emotional or physical.

You rouse a bit when he comes back, making little sounds as he props you up to take more medicine, dabs the cold washcloth around your face, cooling you down and wiping some of the stale sweat away. He smooths a palm over your forehead. “We’re going to have a long talk about rules when you’re feeling better.” 

“Mmkay.” You press your nose into his neck. “Are you going to lay with me?” He kisses your temple. 

“In a little bit, I have some work to take care of. Close your eyes for now.” You nuzzle down into the mattress against his thigh and he can’t resist placing his hand atop your head, holding you there, your cheek bleeding heat through his pants, warm, wet breath building a damp spot. 

“But you’ll be here?” You mumble it, and like you’re afraid the answer will be no, you wrap an arm around the width of his thigh. He chuckles. 

“I’ll be right here.” 

[dustedbooksandreadingnooks]

I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS ON TV!!

[DELETE]

<previous - next>

Featuring guest appearances from:

Miko Jinjahl @ambalambs

Keathan Bael'al-adar @dustedbooksandreadingnooks

Vera Grace @wolveragrace

Johnny Landslide @johnnylandslide

Arsay Nun @wildstar25

Crenic Namalen @disaster-husbun

Eyrie Kisne @impossible-rat-babies

Also a special thank you to everyone in Seafloor who answered my call to help me queue into the trial to get the last few shots I needed! This one was a group effort in so many ways. Thank you all so much! ~♥

[littlestpersimmon]

Hello everyone. My floral bust portrait commissions are open.

I have a small queue, and I figured I will open another couple of slots for more breathing room as I finish this queue.

ETA is late March to early April. They are only 35 usd each portrait, and they are priced down from my original 45 usd.

They are priced down as I am a slower artist- I currently have three jobs, and the sole caretaker of a completely disabled mother whose movement is very limited and dependent on able bodied people, partially disabled father, and an autistic sister, who I am sending to school- that means, as I am essentially a parent to all three- my time is very limited, and so because of the longer 3-4 weeks wait, I charge lower.

I draw tieflings, elves, humanoids, dnd characters that are human-like, ocs, tavs from baldurs gate, etc etc- I specialize in ocs of all shapes and sizes-

I can not draw: non human ocs, ocs with their faces covered, I cannot draw real humans: for example: "can you draw my gf?"- real human faces take far longer to draw and stylize in a way that will look like irl people. This means I can not draw furry or mecha as well.

I will only draw busts. Please, please only hire me for what I am advertising, if you feel my art style will fit your oc. You will receive a portrait of your oc with a floral background from the chest up.

You can choose the expression, the clothes, the hairstyle, the flower style, the general color and mood of the piece, and you will have two passes of edits for free.

❌️ "can you draw this scene from a book"

❌️ "can you draw my grandma"

❌️"can you draw my room and a person sitting in that chair"

These instructions are very long, but I've been, drawing for 5 years for folk now, hehe, and in order to streamline my drawing process, I need to become more and more specific with my instructions 😞 I sometimes get requests to draw entire fully rendered drawings in my portrait commissions!

I am requesting for more patient clients! I do my best to meet everyone's expectations, but I also would love folk who understand that I am one person who loves other people's ocs and want to portray them with love and dignity, and that I am working on these highly specialized and specific and personalized portraits, oftentimes 10 at any given time.

Thank you for reading, please let me work for you! I am a disabled artist from the global south, just trying to get by!

Hire me, send me tips, commission me please!