THAT WENT DOWNHILL SO FAST, OH MY GODS-!!
"stress" by yoan capote - made of bronze and concrete
Wait what brushes do you use on ibispaint
Here you go..!🩵
🤓
happy werewolf transgenderism wednesday
These two dumbass brothers being codependent because of a shitty dad but it's okay because they know what they're doing is right because what they're killing is evil
And then when you look at Season 9, where I'm at right now, Dean's still codependent to all hell and Sam's just tired. He pushes Dean away because he tried to save him even though he's barely done the same any time Dean's been almost dead
Bobby's dead, that old house is gone, monsters are good it turns out, and the brothers aren't really acting like brothers, because Dean couldn't live without Sam
But Sam could always live without Dean, so the rift just grows
Another Logan here! I apologize for my mediocre body hair skills, I am trying to lear for this hairy, stanky man (/pos)
And as always, reference down here!
*slides this over the desk at marvel studios* i have an offer you can't refuse
This is my Durge Tav, Charon! He’s my main run Tav, transmasc and romancing Astarion (in-game screenshots below).
He’s been through it lol
(His hair is the bane of my existence-)
Credits to @tav-dex for the character sheet base!
(Edit was: changed bass to base lmao)
(Edit 2: put #bg3charon as a tag so I can keep track of all my Charon posts- there WILL be more :))
sequel(?) to this post
co-written by @majorstumbles
w/c: 420~
warnings: none(yet), maybe count the ominous bird man. maybeee. he will be a legitimate trigger warning soon enough lmao
a/n: this was something that was so briefly discussed mid last year with stumbles who so graciously entertained the idea, and we recently started making new AU Marvel ideas and I proposed this one today. we will be writing together in the coming snippets of this story, soooo. Hope y’all eat well
Peter never wanted to be something like…*this.* He was bitten by a spider, got ONE ego boost and then someone that he loved more than anything is dead because he messed up the one time. Or had a bunch of tiny mess ups leading to one slightly larger mess up that got his uncle Ben killed. Either way, it’s his fault.
He hates it. Hates the world for it, hates himself for it, hates everything that led to it and he genuinely feels so much hatred for fate that it damn near consumes him.
It’s the night that Peter wakes up with a cold sweat. Or at least, he thought that he woke up.
He’s 19 now, no longer 15, and living life day by day, nearly aimless if not for May’s gentle (but firm) encouragement for him to go to college. He doesn't enjoy it, but it's a distraction from his completely worthless life for now, isn't it?
He’s been having…dreams. Sometimes it's nothing, but it's not ‘nothing’ if he knows that he’s asleep right? It’s something, a numbing lack of sensation that makes him wake up disoriented and confused. Sometimes it's everything, his senses overstimulated with something akin to blaring TV static but so painfully loud and piercing that he wakes up shuddering.
It’s the one time that any sense is made in Peter’s dreams that changes everything.
It was a dream within a dream, as he realizes later. It’s why even though he thought that he woke up, and instead of launching out of his bed because of how overwhelmed he was, he sat up in a desert, chest heaving and feeling like he was about to jump out of his skin.
As he came to grips with this unfamiliar environment, Peter examined his surroundings. The sky was an ultramarine blue, the stars brighter than he's ever seen and the Moon looking like it was out of a movie, the sand a faint purple tone, lavender maybe? The sand doesn't feel quite like sand, doesn’t feel very coarse or grainy, but Peter’s mind is grasping at anything to make sense of the scenario. Where the hell was he?
And in front of him standing plainly in the sand, tall and overbearing, is the answer to his question in the form of the moon god, Khonsu.
Of course, Peter didn’t know that then, but he certainly would become aware in the coming days. Peter blanches at this freakish looking bird-man, who’s draped in traditional Egyptian garments and looking throughly otherworldly.
“Peter Benjamin Parker. You lowly, lowly little man. You can keep living like a sad human with capabilities thay you constantly keep under check for whatever less-than-logical reason, or,” the being remarks with his words laced with pity and sarcasm, “You could be more. For me. How does that sound, Peter?”
You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.
Mostly writing/art blogMods are all 18+Mostly art and photographyBack from long hiatus lets go
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