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it’s difficult to be a dom with anarchist leanings.
my sub will be like “i have to tell you something... i broke a rule. i’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit.” and i’m like. rise up comrade you have nothing to lose but your padded restraints. no doms no masters. oh you want me to spank you. yeah i can do that.
#text#mine#ON THE REAL i'm like rule breaking is cool. also i know you're busy and stuff.#fight the power#i'll beat you for fun later#best hits
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we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.
"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."
i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.
you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"
i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.
what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.
i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.
"don't make a big deal about this," you said.
this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.
"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.
you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."
the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.
afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."
#spilled ink#writeblr#i'm trying to write about this really specific and wierd new experience#that i think is specific to the internet generation#where people you trust can just... say whatever??? and while most people are trustworthy#sometimes they'll just like... put ur shit out there????#and the thing is that sometimes it's GOOD - i want you to tell ppl if ur partner is being cruel!!!!!#i want u to be like ''hey is it normal if xyz happens'' ... but stuff like ''she's afraid of the dark''#PARTICULARLY when it's CLEARLY making fun of me....#what is the point of that.#this is huge and complicated and happens outside of romantic relationships too btw#like someone u thought of as a friend will be like . oh did u know she's scared of heights and it's like.#girl why are u fuckin doing that tho?#it's not a SECRET i just ...???????????????????????#and i think that gross feeling of like -- ''i can't REALLY be upset bc there's not a TRUE RULE about this....''#it's just not something talked about. bc it's so specific and yet so complex#bc how could i say like '' this is a violation of trust'' when it... technically I GUESS isn't????????????#idk maybe im just like super sensitive but please tell me in the comments/tags/etc if this is#something u have experienced (a trusted person like spreading ur shit) and if u were cool with it
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everything is totally fine and DANDY
#art stuff#hollow knight#hollow knight fanart#hollow knight art#meme#hollow knight meme#quirrel#hk quirrel#lurien#lurien the watcher#white lady#hk white lady#ghost#little ghost#the knight#hk little ghost#herrah#herrah the beast#monomon#monomon the teacher#hornet#hk hornet#pure vessel#hk pure vessel#pale king#hk pale king#this was crazy fun to draw#thanks to the people (and you know who you are) who helped me with this#character placing hard
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Honestly I think a lot of people who have never made a gif for tumblr don't get that it does actually take time and effort, its not just rip it from a video and post it- you have to download the video, in my case I have a video player installed that grabs continuous caps, figure out what parts you need, you have to open those in photoshop or gimp, depending on where you got photoshop you might be paying for it every month and then on top of that is actually sizing, cropping, colouring, sharpening, adding text, etc. etc. like it is something that takes time and effort for which the only real reward is creating something that makes you happy and hopefully people reblog it with a nice or funny tag, so maybe keep that in mind the next time you think gif makers are being mean or unfair for being upset about reposts. It is its own little artform that is fairly unique to this website, and that's a big aspect of why I have always loved tumblr, if all the gifmakers stopped posting things would be a lot more boring around here.
#like its well known reposting art or fic is rude so idk why gifs are free game#and why people are always so ~its just a gif~ okay well if its *just* a gif then you go and make one to that quality#oh wait you cant bc it actually does take time and practice#ive been at this for years and i still dont know all the tips and tricks#also the reason i mention all the software needed is bc like. you have to find install learn and it takes up space on the drive#so just reblog stuff and appreciate people that make fun content
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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.
[id in alt text]
#legend of zelda#loz#twilight princess#loz tp#i'm still reeling that someone sent me an ask about this one.. that they took the time to find my tumblr and tell me they liked it#it really meant a lot; thank you to anyone that stops to leave comments like that. they make me happy#but yeah! here's the usual symbolism ramble:#i thought it'd be cool to have the 'spirits' flowing one way and the cats walking through them the other way#to kinda show the difference in life inhabiting the village in the past and present#link's face is covered because impaz was just waiting for 'the hero' so his clothes are what matters; not his face#and it (hopefully) gives a surreal and intangible sense to 'the hero' she could only hope would actually show up#you can feel free to interpret the glowy blue sheikah as ghosts or just as memories of the past! i couldn't decide either way#the one on the bottom left is oot impa since she's implied to be the village founder. so i guess she would be a ghost actually?#fan art#my art#project stuff#and ahhh the book-- everyone's stuff is so beautiful!!#especially the writing. some of the fics made me really tear up and some were so fun and clever. i really love them#a lot of them captured the sheer burden of the role of the sheikah; all of the time and grief and doubt#i know i always say this stuff about every project but. the people i get to work with in these are truly so skilled every time
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Husk went and bought some bike-safe clothes to cope with his adrenaline-junkie boyfriend uvu ✨
#just some silly vibes idk hehe~#I hc that husk meets angel sometimes after work#not cause he needs the protection#but its nice that he's there for company/support#and for the bike rides lmao#but he had to get a jacket or smthin for it cause angie can get a lil carried away~#(ALSO I MEAN- A LOOOT OF PPL ON OTHER PLATFORMS WANTED A P2. OF YOU KNOW- *AHEM*)#(So ima post it on twitter if anyone wants to see any of that fun stuff~)#anyway <33#angel dust#husk#huskerdust#angel dust fanart#husk fanart#biker angel#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin#tribbleart#Mwah! <3
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Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff#but I also just want to post it and get it out there#fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them#im bad at multiple drafts#my writing#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#batman#i live to make everybody dramatic#but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic#lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade#and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so#he doesn't need to change for nobody#nor feels inclined to#also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable#jazz: let's unpack that#clockwork: we never do#jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING#wish i could#that is cash money right there#shoutout to 11thsense
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christ sometimes I just wanna. steal a time machine & go back & sit down next to my 9-year-old self and just like. let them pull out their pokemon card binder & gush about their holographic gyarados or whatever. I'd just smile & ask questions about motherfukcing bulbasaur & tell my kid self that I thought they were a neat person, & someday they'd find other people who thought so too.
like i'm a grown adult who honestly finds most kids stuff boring, but. damn if i could go back & hang out with my baby self & listen to them ramble...just so they knew someone was listening. i would in a heartbeat. thinking about u kid
#wouldn't roll my eyes or check my phone or get bored or nothing#I'd just listen to that little dork & smile & encourage them & let them explain how their favorite gameboy games worked#i was the kind of kid my adult self would find annoying & uninteresting but like#most of the actual adults in my childhood felt that way too. including my dang parents.#and ya know sometimes they showed it. a lot of times without realizing it. and that messes a kid up#if you don't make an effort kids WILL recognize your disinterest and lack of attention.#kids deserve to have caregivers who show interest and engagement#even when it's over stuff that adults find boring. especially then maybe#your kid doesn't have to be fun or interesting or easy or well behaved to deserve positive attention#they deserve positive attention because they are YOUR KID#if love is unconditional then DISPLAYS of LOVE and AFFECTION must also be unconditional#not something that must be earned#telling your kid that you love them is not enough. that is step one out of like a thousand#if you just tell your kid you love them but you don't demonstrate affection and interest and patience and warmth and etcetera#your kid isn't gonna feel loved! I Love You will just become a trite phrase that they regard with mistrust!#bitch you gotta FOLLOW THROUGH
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As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms
ANYWAYS
A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.
The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.
“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.
“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”
Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…
The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”
The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”
The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”
“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”
The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.
Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.
One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.
This… might require some phone calls.
#dpxdc#danny phantom crossover#meanwhile Danny. sitting on a giant marble slab that has the most ridiculous gag gifts a ghost could ever ask for#he’s just like Oh Sweet Cinnamon Rolls!#he would try to convince people to bring him nasty burger but while val has MOSTLY gotten over her vindictive anger at Phantom DOES decide#that she’s gonna be petty and add cilantro to everything#because Danny has the cilantro soap gene#jokes on her he’ll still eat it#Danny likes his little memorial in the grave. it helps settle him sometimes. also he’s gotten to know the security guards for the cemetery#they’re fun. a bit morbid. they LIKE his jokes so you can stuff it JAZZ#MEANWHILE the hero. Whomstever they are but like 90% of you are thinking either batfam or Justice league#are having just. a TOUCH of a crisis#now they gotta figure out where the kid and his mom are from without either of them figuring out#dealer’s choice on what the GIW and why Amity Park isn’t on the radar#I’ll add my two cents bc when don’t I but I’m by and large not like… dictating this? anyways#I like making the GIW just a BIT more incompetent or just having some massive flaws as an organizational group#so they keep forgetting to tell people to not LEAVE and to keep quiet#average amity Parker if the GIW tried this anyways: aw that’s cute. anyways-#and if it’s dc I guess you need to figure out how the jl never found out. so#i mean there’s a LOT of heroes and cities in dc#and amity park is just lost to the noise or. bc Fenton bad luck#every time Danny tried to call. the jl had some insane disaster and or their systems were down#he eventually figured he might actually be cursed- jury’s still out on that -and he’s saving lives by just handling it himself#he can handle rhe metaphorical mega thunderstorms if it means he doesn’t accidentally summon a fucking tsunami to hit the planet ya know?#the kid and the mom have no idea that what they said was Odd#they are just so used to it. amity park already was using death puns and had an. interesting history and relation with death#even BEFORE there was a dead kid flying around in his white gogo boots
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Firefox-official vs electronicmail
Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby
okay come up with a better idea then. firefox-official is gone asshole it’s electronicmail or nothing
#this one was hard to respond to because it elicited the usual anon rage in me#but i had to think about it anyway.#this blog has been around for less than a month and it is driving me fucking crazy#don’t you think i know?#dont you think it hurts enough already#i dont want this blog either i want my old blog back with all my stuff on it#i would like to stick around#because i loved posting#and i get that you’re just having fun#but i’m making an example of you#less than a month vs five years#‘household name’ firefox official#spent five years building that thing#and now it’s just this.#i keep forgetting#and then i’m here again#not home#i know you all feel bad enough for me already#but it’s so hard to be myself because the environment on here is SO different#we were HAPPY#WE WERE SO HAPPY#Umm… Or whatever.#guess i could go back to firefox unofficial#but that feels far too close to the sun. and i’m done with the wings i think.#i dont mean to be so serious#a total mood killer i know#i just dont know how to proceed exactly#because when i post like normal i cant help but feel sad#and when i post about being sad its just sort of obnoxious#i’m not really asking for pity i just want to explain where i am at
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doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what
#dimension 20#fantasy high#riz gukgak#very specifically class swap bard!riz#fh class quangle#mm. I may need tags for all the asides Ive been doing lmao#riz's canon design is so coherent and thematically clean that I genuinely struggle to keep up...#bard!riz's whole thing is working out his identity through abject fear so it kiiiinda makes sense that hes got a different thing going#on every year I guess? like lmao the directive I go into each of these designs with changes vastly#freshman bard!riz has to look extremely nonthreatening. and also make you wanna pick him up and chuck him at a wall#annoyingly inoffensive. slides off your memory pretty much immediately. a void of an experience#crucially Does Not Show Teeth While Smiling#sophomore year bard!riz I have been keeping the like. cameraman direction for#I want him to be swimming in clothes a little bit... he kinda lands at like. 80s/90s shlocky horror protag too which I do like#bc what is season 2 to riz if not a horror story lmao#junior year bard!riz I want to be somewhere between clark kent and tintin#the journalist aesthetics is not so clear and easy to build as the detective or spy aesthetics...#but also I just. really like boy journalist lmao this is the BD blood speaking again#and! I actually do draw his hair differently than in my canon junior year riz stuff. its a bit shorter here so it doesn't#obscure as much of his face#its so funny actually going from drawing canon stuff to class swap esp. with riz bc he's smiling SO much here#and it's 100% trained like its crucial for u guys to know he is equally if not more fucked up as a bard#barely anybody can wrangle him in canon it's already been mostly him keeping himself on track. imagine if he actually learned how to act#mmm. I think these designs are still gonna soft change as I draw them. thats fine we have fun#drawing sophomore year bard!riz for those comiclets was fun as hell. I think on this factor alone I call it a success lol
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the brainrot won
#GUY S i know i haven't posted anything in a while and thats because im working on a big cool project that i really want to finish without-#distractions. but uh. as you can see. ive been distracted 😔. still working on it tho!!!! and im very happy with it turns out its just-#super time and energy consuming so ive tried to limit my intake of other media to not make myself want to draw other stuff#i also haven't read the last two (two already?????) chapters of RnS and im very sad about it and i want to read it but you know that if i-#read it ill want to make fanart and then ill never finish my project :(#SO. sorrey for the lack of art itll be coming when im free to draw!!!!!!!#but also. yes ive watched new life because i dont want to go insane with nothing but this project on my mind and umm. had to take a little-#break to do a couple designs for fun... and to switch it up a bit because for real im going insane i think#ALSO. friend got me into zelda botw and i haven't played a whole lot yet (because project) but ive tried to take some inspiration for-#designs from there. at least for joel and scott. everyone else not so much...#WELL ANYWAYS this is getting long. i should really stop rambling in the tags and just make separate posts for all this but i dont want to#umm. tags.#new life smp#smallishbeans#mythical sausage#geminitay#pearlescentmoon#smajor1995#inthelittlewood#my art#sketch
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workout mix
#this was fun to draw but hhghrghrgh again i spent too much on it im so bad at just making satisfying doodles fast#like i wanna draw stuff as warmup thats fun to do & also ideally looks kinda nice bc THEN i need to try to get other more serious work too#but at the moment i just spend too long on the warmup & then fail to move on to something else hhhhhh#i'll get better i'll get faster i'm not dead yet#anyway yeah she's listening to you're gonna go far kid. you know why. my little pony rainbow dash you're gonna go far kid [explicit].#shevr#my lines#mlp
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“I wanna make art, but idk what people want to see from me—“ *GRABS YOU*
Do whatever you want. You have an idea? You plagued by visions? You got a special interest? You got daydreams about a oneshot you wanna write? Do it. “But how will I know what gets attention?” YOU WONT. THAT’S THE DEVIL TALKING. Say ‘fuck it’ and make whatever. I make art cuz ideas fill my brain & if I don’t see ‘em with my eyes I’ll DIE.
Make stuff cuz YOU wanna see it. If other people’s eyes see it that’s cool too.
#Art#art tips#*SHAKES YOU AGAIN#ok I’m cool I’m good hooo#I see artists frozen cuz they’re worried abt ppl liking their stuff#which I totally get#but art is for fun and making your Brain Visions real#I didn’t know if ppl would like NYSM or my Gaster AU or OCs#I just knew that I liked it & did ‘em anyway#Ok NOW I’m done I’m fine#Don’t mind me I’m just screamin’
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a non-comprehensive guide to my favourite characters in claymore, the best manga you've never read (more under the cut)
don't know what I'm talking about? here's a crashcourse.
#disclaimer: 60% of the added detail is under the cut is my own personal headcanon but im also just correct#anyway#blatantly copying my best friend's template for when they did it for their favourite niche media#its so fun to make art for stuff not that many people know about. im free from the shackles of expecting an audience#this is just for me#also. one of these things is not like the other. hi dauf#“why didnt you draw rigardo too” because i just dont find him that interesting :/ sorry dude#killer performance at pieta! still the most underwhelming member of the first generation#hm....what else#im surprised at how claymore never experienced a resurgence in popularity. in a perfect world this shit does numbers on sapphic tumblr#but oh well#its been 10 years but im still here#i will singlehandedly bring about the claymore renaissance if i have to#okay time for general tags >#claymore#norihiro yagi#manga#teresa of the faint smile#clare claymore#irene claymore#quicksword irene#miria claymore#phantom miria#helen claymore#deneve claymore#ophelia claymore#rippling ophelia#jean claymore#drillsword jean#god eye galatea
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As if I wasn't already exhausted enough this morning...
It's been brought to my attention that people are taking my fanfics, editing them, and sharing them around. I don't have the words to describe how not okay this is. If you don't like something about my fanfic, then I'm sorry to hear that, but there are a lot of other fics out there you can read instead.
I put time and effort and care into my writing, as does every writer. To take my work without permission and change it feels like someone just punched me in the gut. Frankly it makes me not want to share my work at all and to take down all the writing I do have up, because why should I share anything with people if all they're going to do is decide it's not good enough and they're going to do what they want with it and make it "better"?
And before anyone comes at me, this is not what a transformative work does. This is not the same as fanfiction. I'm fucking exhausted from working two eleven hour shifts over the weekend so my brain is not working so someone smarter and more articulate than I am can explain why. I'm tired.
This genuinely makes me want to take down all my works and not share anything new. It's very simple, kiddos: Don't like it? Don't read it. You will miss out on some fanfics that way, just like you'll miss out on some films, or books, or TV shows. I've missed out on really good fic, novels, films, etc, for the same reason. We all do. It's a part of life. Stuff will sometimes have things in it that you don't like. Skim those parts, fast-forward those scenes, grin and bear it, or just go and read/watch something else.
Normally I would make this post unrebloggable but I worry other writers in this fandom might experience the same thing and not realize it. So people are welcome to reblog this. Anyone who's an ass on it will be blocked, no second chances.
Just. Don't do this guys. Holy shit don't do this. What the actual fuck.
#lincoln writes stuff#911 abc#911 fanfic#yes unfortunately tagging the fandom since that's the fandom it happened in#I'm just#holy fuck#genuinely I want to message every writer I know in this fandom#even if we've never spoken#to like... warn them this is apparently a thing#I wish I could make my brain work right now but I'm so fucking braindead#I'm working three jobs and this is my fun relax safe space except NOT ANYMORE 'CAUSE PEOPLE ARE BEING DICKS#just... don't fucking do this what the FUCK is wrong with you#actual CHILDREN are more respectful holy fuck
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