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#you do not know how to spell
andiebeary · 9 months
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HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY LEONAA ❤️ i did this really cool art collab where i did a sketch, @ktii-oo lined everything, and @qwakque colored
we did this for a twst birthday event 10/10 love the twst community IN FACT one of the leona cosplayers did a 10 pull for me and got me birthday jacket leona in 30 pulls THANK YOU <3333
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edit: wrong screenshot lol
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fiiishtank · 10 months
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comic i started when the newsletter with the grillby stuff came out that has been sitting in my files for months !!!!! i finished it ^_^
original :
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ghostlyarchaeologist · 9 months
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"I work in the field of violence. Not knowing Eliot Spencer in our line of business, it's a bit like not knowing Rembrandt."
Leverage Redemption S01E01 The Too Many Rembrandt's Job.
Bonus:
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amelieofgreengables · 2 months
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the Dread Captain Laudna of the Queen De Rolo (Boaty) (with first mate Ropey)
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deadsetobsessions · 18 days
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This is based off of that one tiktok from @sorruna where it’s the audio from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse.
——
Dick Grayson was a sneaky, intelligent little shit.
He was also dumb. These things are not mutually exclusive.
To this day, one of his best kept secrets- one of the many, many that he had now- was something he’d take to his grave.
Or to Jason’s grave, at least.
Dick sat down and began telling the story to ears that would never truly hear it.
——
Batman’s voice rumbled behind him as Dick, in his Robin suit, stood blankly on top of a roof.
“I know you snuck out last night, Robin.”
Dick froze, train of thought about his dinner derailed. Holy busted, Batman! Quick! Play dumb!
“Who’s Robin?” He asked, the years of performing in front of a large crowd coming to save his ass.
Not that dumb!
Batman sent him a dry look, reprimand already poised on his lips. Dick, however, was nothing but a good performer. Nay, a dedicated performer.
Quick! Do something out of character! He shouted at himself, panicking visibly. He stepped backwards, an idea appearing in his head. In his defense, it sounded like an amazing idea at the time. He had no idea it would blow up into a Justice League issue. If he had known… Dick would have lied better, probably. There was no way he was going to let B bench him for weeks!
“Who the fuck are you?!” He yelped. Dick apologized mentally to Alfred and his parents. Batman paused, stunned.
“That’s my question. Who are you?!” Bruce asked, immediately hostile. His son doesn’t curse. Well, not in any normal way anyways. Dick quickly backpedaled by yelling at him with a heavy Vlax dialect, missing his parents terribly as he screamed stranger danger in rudimentary Romany. After this, he was going to have to convince Bruce to get him a language tutor. He refused to forget one of the only ties he had left to his parents.
“Wait, wait- you’re my son.” Bruce replied back, in perfect Romany. He looked more convinced but still skeptical.
“My dad is a circus performer! Not a flying rat!” Dick screeched back. He couldn’t help but feel touched about Bruce seeing him like a son.
“Oy! Keep it down out there, you assholes! Some of us like our sleep, damn!” A random Gothamite screamed out of their window.
“Yo, shut the fuck up! The vigilantes are helping to keep the rent low, motherfucker!” Another Gothamite shouted back.
….
Needless to say, Bruce quickly brought Dick back to the cave- with precautions to make sure he didn’t figure out where the Cave was if Dick was actually someone else.
——
“You would have loved it, Little Wing. B was running around like a headless chicken. The memory loss protocol was actually made because of me, you know.” Dick chuckled, sniffling as he talked to the carved gravestone.
It did not reply.
——
The blood tests came back. Yeppers, Dick sarcastically thought, who woulda thought I’m me?
Reinforcements were called in.
Meaning, Batgirl.
“Watch him while I contact Justice League Dark.”
“You think it’s magic?” Barbara asked.
“Yes. There was no one else near our vicinity that could affect Dick like this. He has no head wounds.”
“Eesh. Okay, go. I’ll watch him.”
Bruce disappeared in his zeta tube, looking harried. So, to everyone that’s not a Bat, he looked absolutely terrifying.
“What did you get yourself into now, Boy Wonder?” Barbara sighed. Dick was careful to keep any signs of recognition out of his face.
“Stop calling me that! Where are my parents?!” He asked back. Barbara coughed and looked uncomfortably away.
That’s right, Babs. I’m pulling out the orphan card. Feel bad. Dick hid his feral grin.
“They’re… uh, busy.” Busy being dead, Barbara thought, immediately wincing at her own thoughts. Apparently, Dick thought the excuse was lame too, and he sent her an incredulous look.
“Would you like refreshments, Master Dick?”
“What?”
Alfred held out some cookies on a platter, giving Babs a quelling look as she tried to reach for his share.
“Oh, wow, these are really good!” Dick said as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. He tried to replicate the reaction he had when he tried these for the first time, and from Alfred’s satisfied look, Dick nailed it.
——
“Robin doesn’t remember who he is.” Batman rumbled as he all but dragged Zatanna and Constantine by the scuff of their jackets towards the zeta tubes.
“Hey, wait-”
“We have no time.” Batman snarled, tossing the two magic users into the zeta. He punched in the destination.
When they got there, he glared at the two magic users until they got into the cave.
“Damn, Bats. Really living up to your name, huh?”
“Not bad,” Zatanna said as she looked around.
“Robin,” Batman- Bruce- reminded them. He did a quick glance over to check on his kids, and found them satisfactorily uninjured. Though, Barbara was looking worse for wear. Bruce quickly found out why as she stalked to him.
“You deal with him.” She muttered. “I’m going home.”
Bruce blinked and nodded. “Get home safe.”
Zatanna and Constantine followed Batman as he walked towards Robin. It was odd to see the normally laughing child frown.
“It’s you! The kidnapper! Where are my parents?!”
Bruce winced which, for him, was akin to a full body flinch and recoil. No wonder Barbara was so tired.
“Fix it.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Batsy.” Constantine grumbled.
“Well help, Batman. Though… I’m not sure if he should be doing that.”
Bruce sharply turned his head back to where Dick was. Emphasis on was. Because now, he’s halfway up the giant dinosaur the Robin had insisted they keep.
“Robin, get down from there!”
“Stranger Danger!” Dick hollered back.
Batman- Bruce Wayne- sighed.
“That’s high level magic,” Zatanna hummed. “I can’t feel anything, but I know for sure that he won’t die. Magic like that either dissipates naturally or…”
“Lasts forever,” Constantine finished.
Bruce groaned, shooting off a grappling line and swooping upwards to catch Dick as he fell from the giant dinosaur.
——
“I pretended to get my memories back later,” Dick chuckled. “And pretended to forget the whole thing. Bruce was so relieved that I stopped knocking things over and trying to do cartwheels in high places that he totally forgot I snuck out.”
Dick patted the headstone.
“But between you and me? I’m pretty sure Alfred knew. I think B pissed him off that week.”
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rosetintedpages · 2 months
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Blue staring at Gansey in TRK while Adam is sat right next to him in ‘a white T-shirt and a pair of clean work coveralls rolled down to the waist’ proves to me that she’s already in love by that point because to not be completely captivated by THAT outfit is insane to me
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 4 months
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;3
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thesunisatangerine · 7 months
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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part three
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: explicit sexual content
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 3.4k
You woke again nearing midday and, as expected, Ale was nowhere to be found. If it weren’t for the still sensitive marks that she left on your neck and the soreness between your thighs, you would’ve thought it was all a pleasant dream. Something on your nightstand caught your eye as you stretched and when you picked it up, all the remaining doubt shattered. 
On the piece of paper was a phone number with a little note that said ‘text me?’ and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at the drawn smiley face at the end of it. You picked your phone up, added her to your contacts and sent her a hello-it’s-me text, noted the notification of an email from Derek, and then you got out of bed to get ready for the day.
When you returned to the bedroom from your shower, a message from Ale was waiting for you. 
‘Hey, good morning! Listen, as much as I’d love to… have fun with you again, I can’t see you the next few days.’
You laughed at the varying degrees of sad emojis that superseded her text. Then you messaged her back. 
‘That’s fine. Just text me when you’re free. And you already know where I am so…’
You abandoned your phone after that in favor of your laptop as you remembered Derek’s email. Upon opening your mail, you found it immediately.
‘Good news. Robert sealed a deal with a client and they want you to follow FC Barcelona in their Liga F campaign this season. We got 5 match passes so far–Robert believes that the client might be inclined to commission for more photos depending on how the club progresses throughout the season.
Find the passes in the attachment as well as the in-depth commission details but in short, apart from the customary team photos, they want photos of the following players prioritised in order: Alexia Putellas, Maria ‘Mapi’ Leon, and Caroline Graham Hansen. I’ll leave the research to you.
On an informal note, the window to decline is still open. As previously discussed, you don’t have to do this. Let me know what you decide as soon as possible.’
You checked the attached files and sure enough, you found the passes for Barcelona’s matches against the following clubs: Real Madrid, Roma, Alhama, Atletico Madrid, and Sporting Huelva. You noted the date for the one against Real Madrid–it was in a couple of days, the same one Ale suggested and a thrill of excitement went down your spine at the thought of possibly seeing her again. Maybe you should message her to let her know that you were going. 
You sent a confirmation to Derek before you created a new tab to begin your research. ‘Alexia Putellas’, you typed and hit enter. When the results came back, you stilled. 
You blinked. 
Then you blinked again.
Of all the places you’d expect to find Ale’s face, a search result about a professional football player was the last thing you could think of. But memories flashed unbidden through your mind: the exclusive night club, Ale’s vague answer about her job, the way her eyes shone whenever you mentioned sports or football, her reflexes, her physique, Ale… Alexia–it all made sense now. 
Groaning, you put your face in your hands as your cheeks and ears burnt from the embarrassment that flooded your veins. Oh, how dense could you get! She must’d thought you ignorant for not knowing who she was. Foolish! 
But then again… if she didn’t get a kick out of you not knowing, why did she allow the second time to happen? And why promise a third? The thought calmed you down enough to decide not to text Ale–no, Alexia–about this like you’d originally planned especially since you were most likely going to see her at the game anyway.
After another moment to regain your composure for the time being, you proceeded with your research. You clicked on an article, and an article lead to another, which carried you over to a video, and so on. By the end of it, evening had settled and you only managed to discover little. But from what you found out, there was no question to Alexia Putellas’ nascent legacy, both on and off the pitch–an undisputed, modern trailblazer for current and new generations of female athletes. You were gutted to know about her ACL injury though–a quick deviated search made it known to you how serious of an injury it was, especially for an athletic career–and you wondered when she would be able to play again or if she would be playing in the match against Real Madrid. After all, she did say she was going to be there.
You wrapped up your research about Alexia then and you finally moved on to Mapi Leon, then Caroline Graham Hansen. Afterwards, you briefed yourself on the rest of Barcelona Femeni’s 1st Division players as well as the rules of football to come up with a strategy to tackle this task.
A mixture of anxiety and excitement rushed through you as you settled in for the night at the thought of seeing Alexia again now that you know about her identity. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into the moment you let her take you to the dance floor but the pull was there from the very beginning. And you decided you were going to see this through to the end.
No. This wasn’t going to change anything at all.
–––
There it was: Estadi Johan Cruyff, home to Barcelona Femeni, stood proud in its blue and red glory.
There was still about an hour and a half left before kickoff but already, people had gathered and started to enter the stadium, you being one of them. Security scanned your press pass as you entered and you were told to head through a different corridor which lead you out to the pitch. Once inside, it was no surprise that the stadium’s interior was no less grand than the outside, the well-tended grass was just a taste to the quality that this place had to offer. 
Greeting the other photographers who’d settled in earlier as you walked, you searched for a spot and found it by the space adjacent to the corner flag farthest from the tunnel entrance. There, you placed your duffel bag and your portable stool as you worked to set up your equipment: you double-checked the batteries, attached the right lens to your camera, unwounded your monopod and connected it to your camera. 
By the time you looked up, there was already a significant crowd awaiting the players for their warm-ups. You took this chance to take a few shots of the still half-filled stadium, tweaking your settings as you did so and you waited for the players to come out.
About an hour before kickoff, you spied movements inside the tunnel and immediately, your eye was to your viewfinder.
Players from both teams emerged from the tunnel and names popped in your head as you scanned the faces from Barcelona, taking shots of them as they stepped foot on the grass and took off in a jog. There was no sign of Alexia though but you spotted two of your marks on the pitch so you wasted no time to frame them in your camera.
A moment later though, you heard a sudden cheer from the crowd followed by a collective flutter of camera shutters. You lifted your eye from the viewfinder, turned your head to the side and saw that your fellow photographers had their cameras focused to the direction of the tunnel entrance. Your heart quickened. Could it be? And sure enough as you looked to the sidelines, you could make out Alexia’s blonde hair and her unmistakable silhouette. Through your camera’s lens you were able to see her better. 
Alexia had on a black leather jacket paired with a top that revealed a strip of skin before the cut of her jeans, finishing her look off with a pair sneakers on and loose blonde hair. She was conversing with her coach, bumping fists and patting the backs of players from both teams who went over to greet her. Then she turned to the stands, waved at their supporters, and she moved close enough for pictures and autographs. She gave one last wave to the fans, shouted an encouraging word to her teammates with a fist in the air, before she headed back into the tunnel. While all of this was happening, you’d framed her through your lens yourself, taking the photos you needed, cheeks warm despite the cooling afternoon air. 
Then all the Barcelona players jogged over to the sidelines and huddled, side to side, arm in arm. You took a shot. Not long after that, all of them left the pitch. 
The game was about to start. 
Alexia wasn’t lying when she said the stadium would get crowded: the stands were filled with blues and reds, flags were flown and waved about, chanted anthems resounded loud and proud in the air–the atmosphere was nothing short of electric. 
You’d moved by the sideline close to the tunnel entrance for the beginning of the match along with your fellow photographers so you could capture Barcelona’s starting eleven. When the players came out, they were welcomed by singing and cheers from the crowd. And as they stood there, you took photos of the entire team first before you moved on to focus on Mapi and Caroline. 
When the whistle blew and the match began, you were back to your original spot, looking to the stands above the tunnel entrance as you tried to pick Alexia out from the sea of faces through your camera. You managed to a few minutes later, and you found her looking rather pensive: one arm crossed over her chest, the other resting on it as she rubbed her chin with her thumb, eyes focused down at the pitch with her brows slightly creased. It looked like longing to you, a burning desire to return home–to start playing football again. The sight evoked such a feeling in you that you couldn’t help but capture the moment. This shot, however, you were going to keep for yourself.
 Now that you knew where Alexia was, following the client’s requisites just got a lot easier. Up until the final whistle, you immersed yourself in your work and the game, focusing more on Mapi and Caroline as they were playing. There were times that allowed you to shift your camera to the stands to where Alexia was and took shots of her, too. By the time you knew it, the game ended and Barcelona won 1-0.
You expected a celebration from Barcelona because they were in their turf after all so you loaded up your camera with a freshly charged battery. The next thing you knew, Alexia was there with the team, hugging and patting them congratulations and her teammates beamed at her, happy to see her there. 
Click You took a shot. 
The players then began their procession around the stadium, waving at and signing things for their supporters. Through your camera, you saw Mapi signing the shirt of a young girl. Click. Next to her was Caroline, reaching over the barrier to sign a ball, smiling as she talked to the boy holding it. Click. 
The procession was near enough that you could hear their banters, growing louder as they approached where you were and the beating of your heart thumped as loud as the chants from the crowd. You congratulated the players as they passed and kept your camera away out of respect. You looked at the end of the line and you met Alexia’s gaze. She was smiling at you while she talked to Irene Paredes beside her and she never took her eyes off you. There was a gleam in them, something akin to mischief and… a challenge? If so, why? 
At that you raised an unimpressed brow at her, both a question and a statement. Your reaction seemed to amuse her because her smile turned into a full smirk.
The procession passed but Alexia lagged behind, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Irene who threw Alexia a questioning look. You watched as Alexia waved her off before she began walking your way and you didn’t miss the fluttering of shutters from your fellow photographers’ cameras. Some called Alexia’s name to get her attention but she ignored them, her attention only at you. You barely had enough time to school your features and hide any signs of familiarity before she was standing in front of you.
“Hey, you. You made it here after all.” Alexia said cooly, lips slanted in a half-smile, one hand in a jean pocket.
“Yeah, I did. Sorry, but do I know you?” You asked in an excessively dry tone paired with an raised eyebrow, but you made sure your voice was just loud enough for her to hear. Catching your drift, Alexia laughed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to try and cover it up. 
“I suppose not,” she extended a hand towards you, “I’m Alexia, and I’m sorry about… you know.”
“Nice to officially meet you, Alexia. Congratulations on the win, by the way.” You shook her hand, ignored the way her warmth seeped into your skin, and hummed. “You know, you remind me of someone I know. Your resemblance to her is uncanny.”
Alexia nodded as she took her hand back, lips quirked. “I think I know who you’re talking about. I think she also wants to know if she could stop by later tonight?” 
Your cheeks warmed and you didn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face. “I did tell her she could whenever she’s free.”
“So, yes?”
“Yes.”
———
You braced your weight against the headboard, forehead over your folded arms, eyes barely open and the erotic sight in front of you did nothing to help the building flood in you. With your thighs bracing her head and from this angle, you could only see Alexia’s closed eyes but you felt her hands roaming and supporting your lower back as her mouth and tongue worked on you. 
She was taking her sweet time though, brushing her tongue over your clit lightly, sucking just enough to build up the pleasure but nothing too much to bring you over the edge. You whined because she did it again only with more pressure this time, circling your clit a few times before she moved away again. You were starting to learn that she liked to play; she liked to take her time and get as many reactions from you until she was satisfied, until she’d completely unravelled you.
A particularly cruel swipe of her tongue, accompanied by the obscenely wet sound it made, nearly incited a sob from your lips but the plea you made was nothing short of similar.
“Ale… please…” You panted.
“–my name.”
“Huh?” You whined out, not hearing what Alexia said after a flick from her tongue sent shivers down your spine.
“Say my name.”
Then she circled your clit with more urgency after she said that–demanding. You keened and ignored her, canting your hips forward to chase that delicious friction you were desperately searching for. 
“Ale… Ale… please!”
Then she stilled completely and you cried out in protest, eyes flying open to meet lidded hazel ones.
“What–”
“Say my name.” She licked your inner thigh deliberately close to where you wanted it the most.
“Alexia, pl–” You didn’t even need to beg because right after her name left your mouth, overwhelming heat was all you could feel as she ate you out earnestly. Her hands gripped your thighs so tight that you wouldn’t be able to pull away–not that you could ever do such a thing.
“Oh, fuck!” 
Euphoria tore through your body in concurrent waves with brutal intensity that it ripped the strength from your bones while your muscles shook helplessly. Even the gentle touches from Alexia tongue as she cleaned you up were enough to make you hiss from overstimulation. 
God… she really did a number on you this time.
After you finally calmed down, you shifted so that you could lay by Alexia’s side, kissing your way up from the column of her neck to her lips where you found your taste heavy on her tongue. You dragged your fingers from the crest of her hip to her breast, feeling the ridges of her hard-earned muscles as you did so and revelled in the way they tensed beneath your touch, the softness of her breast a beautiful contrast to the firmness of her stomach.
Alexia gasped when you rolled her nipple between your fingers and you gladly swallowed it as you deepened the kiss. You slotted your leg to apply pressure between her thighs, ample wetness coated your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at her arousal.
You nipped a path down between the valley of her breasts but not before you had given both of her nipples the attention they deserved. You continued your journey, licking and nipping at her skin as you moved down her toned stomach.
As soon as you reached her navel, she parted her legs to make space for you. You kissed her inner thighs, loving the way they tensed beneath your lips and as you trailed closer to her core, you flashed your gaze upwards to meet hers. When you finally got the first taste of her tonight, you watched intently through lidded eyes as she closed hers, dropping her head on the pillow and sighed out a long, low moan. 
You gave her a few slow and broad strokes, closing your eyes as you savoured her taste. When she began to urge her hips quicker, you picked up your pace all the while mapping her thighs and stomach with your palms.
You found you liked how responsive she was to your touches, liked the way she demanded for more which you gladly gave to her as she asked for them. And when she cradled the back of your head and buried her fingers in your hair so she could meet your tongue the way she wanted it, you moaned loudly, taking from the way she took hers from you.
“Yes, right there, just–” Her back arched and you clung to her hips like a lifeline. You rolled your tongue against her and sucked, not wanting to disrupt the pace of her fall. 
And fall, she did.
She came on your tongue and you accepted it with a grateful moan, slowing down your pace as she came back down from her high. It was sticky and heady, a reward that you lapped up eagerly, and from the pleased way Alexia threaded her fingers through your hair, she was satisfied. Like her, you took your time cleaning her up because after all it was only polite to do so and you enjoyed the way her leg muscle tensed when you kissed her clit one last time. 
Content with your work, you kissed the top of her left thigh as a form of gratitude but instead of making your way up, you traced the line of muscle that lead down to her knee where scars from her injury had carved themselves permanently into her skin.
You’d kissed those same scars the last time you were together without knowing the story behind them and now that you know, you dragged your lips over them ever more softly, looking Alexia in the eye as you did so. She watched you intently with lips slightly parted, eyes dark and lidded.
Alexia bent forward so she could reach out to you, lifting your chin with a gentle hand. Then she brushed her thumb over your upper lip to wipe the wetness there but before she could pull it away, you parted your lips and took her thumb into you mouth, sucking and licking off the taste there, never taking your eyes off hers.
“My god,” came her breathless murmur before she moaned out, “come here.”
Then she guided you to her mouth with her gentle grip on your chin and before you knew it, you were under her again, sighing in grateful surrender to the mercy of her and her hands. She kissed and ravaged you many times over–and you, her–that by the end of the night, you’d completely forgotten the weight of her name.
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staff · 1 year
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Horse Friend is now available on iOS and Android. To celebrate that Horse Friend is now available on iOS and Android, Horse Friend wrote you this poem.
That's right, folks. You can now bring your very own Confunglius Brango* to school, to work, or even to the movies. We won't judge. Just tap here, or on that little shop icon on the lower right corner of your screen, and buy yourself the most wonderful gift of all—the gift of friendship with a virtual horse.
You can also give the gift of the prolific pooper to all your friends. A pony for every pocket. Magic.
*Names may—neigh—WILL vary.
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lordzuuko · 9 months
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Gojou Satoru taking a photo with his kouhai he so totally do not have a crush on, he swears! Print | Ko-fi
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slumbear · 2 years
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Part 2
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kiiingsnake · 3 months
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Thank you for answering that mecha ask, it was very helpful!! Though if I may, could I ask if you have any advice/tips for people who are new(ish) to drawing mecha? or just struggling in general I guess
first off, sorry for taking so long to answer this- it made me really have to think about how the hell i structure my mecha drawings in the first place. so here's my best advice, structured in a very on-brand confusing and shitty manner:
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really, when you're just starting out its all about taking a base shape and warping it. the biggest thing is exaggeration- what you exaggerate and where you do so really does depend on your own tastes/goals for the robot. high exaggeration reads as super mechanical/otherworldly/technical, while keeping it close to the base shapes you want to replicate will make it seem more organic.
a good thing to remember the whole time is that you're putting a shell around a frame! it's like trying to draw an animal but with only hard bits (well, most of the time). so your base shape layouts aren't exactly indicative of what will be your mecha's internal and external structure. you can exaggerate inwards to make it seem like, say, an armored skeleton, or only exaggerate outwards to seem like a carapace on a bug. it's really just a whole lot of pushing and pulling within your original silhouette and weights!
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gay-malevolent-wizard · 10 months
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Pov: you just scorched the fairy milk infront of me and ruied the bountiful harvest potion
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road2manjuumaster · 10 months
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self inserts are great. some people have one they use for every media and i love seeing this one specific little guy people choose to represent themselves go on fun adventures and make friends with their favorite characters and fall in love with others. some people have a different insert for every media they ship from or even for every ship they have and that's??? honestly really impressive and cool how so many different things can represent a single person. sometimes they're fantastical and magical and sometimes they're just A Guy™ in Situations™ even if it doesn't really "fit" the media they're an insert for. and some of these designs?? SNAPPED my spine stole my bones yall are so talented
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thylacines-toybox · 11 months
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Calypso (she/her)
Very blue sea lion by Wild Republic, adopted from Loved Before in June 2023.
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hammerhead-jpg · 5 months
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Random redacted sketches (?)
An apology to sweetheart for butchering them in my drawing listeners post LAWRD
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