MEAT DIMENSION SYSTEM

I do not normally go out of my way for captions, but there are some things I’d like to say here if you will read it.

I hope it’s clear this isn’t ship art. I’m not a Marvel fan, I don’t know anything about the comics, but I found the show to portray manipulation and the cycle of abuse excellently.

I don’t know anything about Jake Lockley aside from the glimpses the show gave me, and considering the purpose I imagine he serves in the broader system, Khonshu’s invasive exploitation of his protective instincts, sitting in the back of a limousine while Jake drives it as if Jake were a servant, is infuriating and fascinating.

The god is like a parasite, with dominion over body and mind (and the shows deliberate choice to end with Frank Sinatra’s “My Way of Life”)… I thought it was very well done, and I wanted to draw something for it.

Are you in need of some serious Moon joy? Get ready for Moon Joy June. NASA is hosting a month-long art challenge and we would love for you to participate! For every week of June, NASA will introduce a new prompt to inspire artists and creators of all kinds:

June 1-7: Launch 

June 8-14: Moon 

June 15-21: Crew 

June 22-30: Earth 

To share your Moon joy-inspired art on Tumblr, use the hashtag #ArtemisArtShow.

The sky is (not) the limit! We encourage all forms of art, including but not limited to: paintings, drawings, sculptures, dances, music, animations, nail art, latte foam art, poetry, fashion. Choose your favorite medium and share it with us!

Small Headcanons {Accepting}

He knows the exact details like time, date and location for each and every scar covering his body. He might not tell you the truth if you ask him but he doesn't forget a single one. If you wind up being special to him somehow, in someway, maybe if you ask he'll you the truth. Maybe.

He hates the sound of his own voice. For some undisclosed reason it makes him almost physically ill. Which poses a question. Why does he talk so damn much? Because he works best when he's uncomfortable. When something is bothering or annoying him. He gets hyper focused to drown out whatever it is that's upsetting him.

He’d slipped away while she & Reese had been talking. Greer’s sensitive nose didn’t typically allow her to make friends of the undead kind, but the kid was funny. Had spunk.

Still, T’Challa had sent her to do some work — & the night was still young.

Greer tracked Marc’s scent to the buildings’ rooftop, the only sound she made was the closing of the stairwell door. She was silent; a natural predator, blending seamlessly into the jagged shadows cast by the city lights around. Marc was stark white against the black & neon of the skyline.

She thought about Rutger Hauer bleeding out in the rain in Blade Runner.

“Well, that was fun. I left my invoice with Reese.” she joked, moving to take a seat beside him on the ledge of the building; green-yellow eyes looking across to the waxing moon.