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#enthusiasm at its best
myketheartista · 1 year
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I NEVER POSTED THESE!!! IM CONSTANTLY IN A STATE OF ZIT
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Omg idk if you talk Spanish or if it’s just XXC, but with that little and wonderful doodle you gave me the amazing headcanon of XXC being bilingual and just randomly speaking Spanish out of nowhere and nobody understanding him
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[TL: XXC says "don't do coke in the bathroom"]
Shout out to the Spanish speaking MXTX fans. I don't think this is remotely what you wanted. (bonus below cut, TW: Drugs)
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thornescratch · 6 months
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"We're gonna missing teeth."
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spiderwarden · 2 months
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thepurplewombat · 1 year
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo Characters: Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Niè Huáisāng Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, First Meetings, Flirting, Scheming Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo, he's scheming to give his crush the RPG experience he deserves, Lan Xichen has bad luck Summary:
“Zewu-jun,” Meng Yao says in a grave voice. “You’re in extremely bad shape right now. If you move at all, you’re at severe risk of completely depleting your Qi. Do you understand?”
(Meng Yao is the inventor, author, and mastermind behind a Xianxia-inspired tabletop RPG -- and the gamemaster to a ragtag group of players who assemble in his apartment every Sunday and eat up his snacks. Lan Xichen is a guest player down on his luck.)
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how is everyone feeling on this fine monday?
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tamagoneko · 2 years
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it’s my birthday and i get to post cringe! 
aka the various drawings i had collecting on my desktop
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heartscrypt · 1 year
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one of these days i am going to draft out a fake sled over heels cast and plot based on everything idia has ever said about it in the harveston event
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defiledtomb · 2 years
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will we be able to show some fighting skills in new path? Like i know that mc will eventually be dragged back, bcs story must progress, but if we play as blood kell for example would we be able to do some dmg? I like to imagine that when my mc would finally be dragged back bloody cursing and with missing limbs lol there would be at least 2 or 3 mercs would have to be dragged unconscious behind them :D
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[You approach the furthest blade with your breath caught in your lungs, their back still turned against you. Stabbing in the neck is out of the question, but you spot their hood loose around their neck and decide to pull it, bending them backwards. You help them along with a kick to the back of their knees. Your knife sinks in between armor and clothes. A squelching sound, blood seeping onto the grass now.]
This is one variation in a larger body of text, race and choice of trap will influence the route a lot!
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myketheartista · 1 year
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more zit !!! I love their shapes… designing them has been fun but zedaph still has my heart
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bylertruther · 1 year
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i know that we've talked about this ad nauseam, okay, i KNOW, but the writers really were just so funny for making will call el out for lying at the rink, only to then have him tell the biggest lie of his entire life in her name just a couple episodes later. a lie that involves more than just him, and as such affects multiple people in a serious way, and even played a part in killing max as well as the other people affected by the "earthquake". like... LMAOOOOOOO will really does get some of the best lines 🤭
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mcmadcanvas · 2 years
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Was thinking about my old DeviantArt account from when i was in middle school, and decided to post cringe.
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Are they even cringe? Hell no, bc without this stuff I'd never be where I am now.
Go look at your old art! Its good for you!
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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...
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agblend13 · 2 years
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Did you go to school to learn painting and color techniques? asking because your so amazing with drawing along with a vibrant color palette and i truly admire your work.
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Thank you! Yes I did go to university for a while but they don't get any credit for my development, I learned most of my basic skills beforehand. My mom is a classically trained artist and it was with her that I learned life drawing. An influential moment in color theory came from a portfolio prep class I took when I was in high school -- the teacher stacked up a random pile of cardboard boxes in the middle of the room and had us each reach into a bag and blindly choose two colored pencils. We then had to assign one color for highlights and the other for shadows and sketch the boxes. I don't remember what colors I had but the point of the exercise, for example having to use a dark blue and dark green to create contrast and depth, was really interesting and fun.
Painting is something I've done all my life in a casual way, and I consider my current skill level to be self-taught as it has grown from making a decision as an adult to focus on painting, and basically start churning out pieces one after another. I don't think I'd be where I am as quickly though without those lessons in life drawing, and if anyone were to ask my advice on how to make their art on the page look like what's in their imagination I'd say first learn how to draw, on paper, with graphite, from a physical still life. Many self taught artists who want to create exciting fantastical works may want to skip this step because it's quite tedious (to me at least) and having an experienced teacher is pretty important, but the point of these lessons is very specifically to train your eyes, brain, and hand to communicate with one another in the process of translating a three dimensional object into a two dimensional illusion. The technical aspects of acrylic painting can be picked up by watching youtube videos and reading some tips while just painting and painting until you figure out the steps to get the effect you like. But I can't count the number of times I've been grateful for those drawing lessons, especially for painting in a lowbrow pop-surreal style.
Lastly, to get back to the color part I can't say I've memorized many technical facts about color theory, I largely feel my way through a painting. After a while you tend to remember which color combinations are pleasing to your own art style, and one thing I love about acrylics is how easy it is to repaint an area if you decide you don't like a color combination. Anyone who wants to see more of my art inspiration, color palettes, and painting references should check out my Pinterest!
pinterest.com/agblend13
✿ Anka ☻
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strawberry-peach · 6 months
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And in more unrelated news I've started playing the sims 4 again keep me and my laptop in your prayers
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wyvernest · 7 months
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bright red lust
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!trophy wife! reader
warnings: smut, car limo sex, misogynistic undertones (reader feels good about being a trophy wife), pda, teasing, dryhumping, unprotected sex, creampie, cowgirl
summary: you attend a gala with miguel and tease him until he finally gets you to himself in his limo
translation: "que rico" = 'how nice'
Any woman’s dream is to be his wife. For his rank, his money, his reputation, his everything. And it feels so good to know that he's so desired.
Because you’re at his side, not them. It’s you whom he spends his money on. It’s you whom he buys all the exquisite dresses and gowns for, all the best things you could ever want or need. It’s you whom he makes love to after a tiring day. Or after you wake up. Or anytime, for that matter.
You’re irreplaceable, but at the same time at his disposal. You don’t see it as a price paid but rather as a bonus. You’ve never been pampered so good before, loved so good, fucked so good.
So that’s why, whenever he has a new gala or special event to attend, you let him pick your dress out of all the various selections you spend so much time on finding. 
“Too long.” he dismisses, vision darting from your mauve-satin covered legs to your face. He’s manspreading on the king size bed of your presidential hotel room, hair dishevelled and half lidded eyes sleepy, relaxed. 
“You’re so picky today. I only got a few more!” You giggle with a faux offended expression. Behind the façade of worry that he won’t be satisfied with any of the looks, you secretly love these little fashion runaway sessions, feeling like his own personal top model, trying out different outfits for him. If you weren’t in a hurry, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit on his lap and accidentally grind your ass on his crotch when you got up as part of the little show. 
“Mm.” He hums, seemingly unaffected by your playful frustration. He knows you love it when he acts so pretentious and superior, but he loves you, and he loves the enthusiasm with which you show him everything. “Next, bebita. This one’s sombre.”
After a few minutes and struggles, you manage to pull on the pièce de résistance; a bright, blood-red skin tight satin dress. Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of you, brows raised in silent approval and admiration. The length isn’t a problem this time, your beautiful legs and thighs peeking out with every step through the long slit on the right. The fabric is wrapped so deliciously around your breasts, slightly pushing them up together, plump and tantalising. 
"Maybe this one's a bit too much? I-"
"Do a 360." His eyes lit up, attentive and pleased. You twirl, making sure to slightly stick your ass out, checking yourself out in a full body mirror nearby.
"Me gusta." He gets up from the bed, gripping your waist to place a needy kiss on your cheek, before placing his lips on your own. You take his face in your hands, melting into his embrace. “This is the one.” His deep, low whisper sends shivers up your spine, your brain short circuiting. Who are you to say no to him? To those pretty, dark brown, red-tinted eyes?
"I'm gonna go get ready now. Thank you, papi." You turn around, yelping as he doesn't miss the opportunity to smack your ass as you do, smirking to himself.
When you finally arrive at the gala, you get out of your limo and start flaunting your exquisite dress, proud and flashing. You feel Miguel instantly cling to you, a secure, strong hand on your waist, its touch fervent and possessive. 
He doesn’t fail to notice all the other spiders gawk at you, turning their heads too sharply just to catch a glimpse of his beautiful wife. All the lingering looks, the whispered words of admiration, all for you. The hand on the dip of your waist tenses, both in immeasurable pride and a hint of stinging jealousy. But it felt amazing. 
All the comments, the remarks.
“Can’t believe he pulled such a pretty thing.”
“Imagine coming home at the end of the day to her.”
“Maybe being the leader of Spider-Society has its perks.”
They thought he wouldn’t ever hear them, but his enhanced senses have little to no limits. He feels his pants slightly tighten at the thought that so many other men want you. And yet, it’s his cock that you beg for, late at night. 
And you’re aware of this weakness of his. You know that showing everyone that you’re his gets him hard in no time. And as the brat you are, you can’t help it. Especially not when all eyes are on you two. Not when the paparazzi’s come in.
You run a cursory hand from his chest to his abdomen, arching your back, pretty figure on display for the pictures. Bolder. Your hand finds his cheek, his jaw, your eyes never leaving him. You enjoy feeling like an accessory, something that accentuates him, his masculinity. Something that belongs to him.
No other man has ever made you feel this way.
You gesture to him to lean down, your heels still not enough for you to be able to reach his face without his aid. He does, and you place a tantalising peck on his cheek, light enough so that your bright lipstick doesn’t transfer. 
Feeling him stiffen, unsure of your teasing, you decide to risk it and lean your face down to the crook of his neck. 
Hundreds of photographs flash as you kiss his neck, your soft lips lingering just a second too late, only for a red print to remain plastered on his skin, for everyone to see. 
He turns to you with an expression worth a thousand words. You know that face all too well. 
As soon as you get back in the limo following the after-party, you wave good-bye to all your acquaintances and friends. The driver takes a turn and exits the flash-lit area. 
Turning to look at Miguel, any conversation or small talk on the event you just attended gets smushed into a heated kiss you both longed for, his hands on your hips, pulling you into him on the back seat, your arms thrown over his shoulders.
When he grabs your thigh, you waste no time in lifting your leg over his waist, straddling him without breaking away from the kiss.
His warm hands slide underneath the red satin, grabbing at the globes of your ass greedily. You start grinding on him, your damp panties rubbing onto his erection in his pants.
Your breasts nearly pop out of your dress during the hazy make out session, and he parts from your lips to start kissing down your neck, stealing a glance down at them. Throwing your head back, your body turns into putty in his strong arms. He licks and kisses at the delicate skin of the tops of your tits, slowly and reflexively grinding up into your heat.
You moan his name, your breathing getting heavy.
He knows that having you in risky places only makes you even wetter for him, and he can't get enough.
"Ah! Oh- Miguel!" You whimper as a heavy hand smacks your ass, making you jerk forward into him, your tender body smushed against him so perfectly.
"Here? Are you sur-"
"Here, yes." Hot, shallow breaths fan your neck as he speaks in between kisses and gentle bites. "Can't wait any longer."
Your hands fumble with his belt and he quickly rips your panties at the seam, making a hole over your slit. Panting and rushing, you pull his hard, meaty cock out and align it with your dripping cunt. You feel him slip into you, nice and slow, filling you up with the familiar euphoria you have craved so ardently for the whole night.
He groans as he enters you, wet, warm and tight. Just when you were getting adjusted to his size, the limo goes over a speed bump and his cock thrusts up into you with the turbulence, its bulbous tip kissing your cervix.
You feel him deep in your guts, and as you begin riding him, he starts to buck his hips up into you, making you see stars.
"Que rico", he pants out, whispered, "having a pretty thing like you all over me." He
Keeping the thrusts quick and shallow, so as not to make your shenanigans too obvious, you bounce yourself on his cock; at first for his pleasure alone. Seeing him drowned in ecstasy will eventually being you your own pleasure as well.
All until he brings a hand to your swollen clit, rubbing furiously, throwing you over the edge in mere seconds. You come all over his dick, eyes rolling back, his name falling off you tongue in a strangled moan, sweet music to his ears.
He feels your pussy pulsate oh so deliciously around his cock, and it doesn't take him much longer to also release his load in your velvet walls, painting your insides white, claiming you as his.
As soon as he comes down, catching his breath, he smothers you with another fierce kiss, groaning into your mouth as you stir with his still sensitive cock inside you.
"We should do this again sometime, Mr. O'Hara." You tease, your lips straying away to nibble at his pulse point.
"Oh, we will, bebita."
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divider by @cafekitsune as always
a/n: finally wrote this 7 mesozoic eras after it was requested sorry man
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