#BUT ALSO maybe i should change the colours...

[milktiicup]

If it isn’t a hassle, could you write a continuation of the pregnancy fic you wrote with mr crawling? Like maybe when the baby is born? 🙏

He’s such a cutie I swear

a touch of home!

“Yeah, she's strong,” you said, a note of pride in your voice. “Probably get that from you.” He tilts his head at that, his grin widening. “Little us strong. Like me? Strong like me?” “Of course,” you reply, reaching out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek. “They’re a little mix of both of us, you know. Your strength, my looks, obviously.”

warnings. spoilers for mc's past, reader is still ungendered / no descriptions of birth

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ chapter 1

Life has certainly taken a turn you never expected. Within a single year, you went from living a relatively isolated existence- albeit with some questionable extracurriculars- to residing in another world, leaving said world, sharing your life with a monster, and now, raising a new born. The juxtaposition between who you were and who you had become often left you with a feeling of derealisation.

Taking time off from work (and by "work," you meant the kind of job that didn’t exactly leave a paper trail) felt strange. The phrase retired serial killer felt like a joke every time you thought about it. Instead of carefully planning your next "project," you now spent your days meticulously tracking feedings, diaper changes, and nap times with a part time in teaching Mr. Crawling your language. 

The baby coos, forcefully pulling you from your trance. You blink down at the half folded laundry, a pile of folded and unfolded colourful baby onesies. Whoever you were a year ago would’ve smashed a crowbar into someone’s face for even suggesting the idea that you were doing something like this. 

The baby coos louder, and you can hear the shuffle of Mr. Crawling down the hallway.

“Little us loud,” he says, peering into the bassinette. “Little us okay? Healthy?”

“She’s just sleeping,” you reply, a soft smile on your face. 

Mr. Crawling’s hand hovers over your baby’s stomach, an internal conflict on whether he should pat her, or poke her. In the end, he leaves her be, and crawls over to your side. He leans his head on your shoulder, and points to the laundry with a, “Fold?”

You hum. “Yes, fold,” holding up a tiny onesie and folding it for emphasis, "like this."

He nods enthusiastically and reaches for one of the baby’s onesies, his long fingers awkwardly attempting to mimic your movements. The result was… less than successful, the onesie ending up in a lumpy square-ish shape. Mr. Crawling looks proud enough of his work, so you weren’t about to nitpick about imperfections. 

You smile lightly, and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good.”

“Good, good!” Mr. Crawling giggles, and reaches for another.

The baby coos again. They were awake now, kicking their tiny feet and waving their arms, their soft gurgles filling the room. The onesie Mr. Crawling has in his grips flops to the floor as he crawls over to the bassinette, an eyeless stare peering down. He reaches into the cradle, the baby’s small hand reaching out to grip onto his long grey finger.

“Little us happy,” Mr. Crawling smiles brightly, but falters, “Little us strong.”

You laugh, breathlessly. The baby’s grip on his finger was impressive, her small face scrunching up in concentration. You join Mr. Crawling beside the bassinette, leaning onto him. His hair tickles your face.

“Yeah, she's strong,” you said, a note of pride in your voice. “Probably get that from you.”

He tilts his head at that, his grin widening. “Little us strong. Like me? Strong like me?”

“Of course,” you reply, reaching out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek. “They’re a little mix of both of us, you know. Your strength, my looks, obviously.”

“Mix,” he murmurs, as if testing the word. “Little us.”

The way he said it, so simple yet full of meaning, sent a warmth through your chest. This life you had now was strange and unexpected, but it was also full of moments like this- moments that made you think maybe, just maybe, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

The baby’s face scrunches, and the wails start. Moment ruined. You sigh, deflating like a balloon.

Mr. Crawling reaches into the bassinette, cradling the baby with such softness and care. “Shh, tiny us. No sad. Me here.”

The wail of the baby fades into sniffles, and you turn back to your laundry, folding another onesie with a sigh. Your hands move mechanically, but your mind stays in the room with Mr. Crawling and the baby. The quiet moment, brief as it was, has reminded you just how much things had shifted. From solitary nights with blood on your hands to this quiet domesticity with a baby and a monster.

Mr. Crawling’s movements are slow and deliberate as he rocks the baby gently in his arms, the occasional hum slipping from his lips. Despite his lack of eyes, there’s a sense of focus, a connection between him and the tiny person in his arms. It’s uncanny. He’s good at this. Maybe he doesn’t know everything, but he’s figuring it out with a deep patience that you can’t help but admire. He’s better at this than you ever could be.

The baby lets out a giggle, similar to her father’s as unnerving as it was, and Mr. Crawling looks down at her with that strange, contented smile he always has when he’s near her. "Little us happy now," he murmurs.

You swallow a laugh. "Yeah, they’re happy. You’re good at this." You set down the folded onesie and move toward them, leaning down to kiss the top of your baby’s head. “So good. I think you’re a natural.”

He glances up at you, his expression soft but filled with pride. "Natural. Me... natural?"

You nod, smiling. "Yeah, I’d say so." Your eyes flicker to the baby, her tiny hands still balled up in fists as she rests in his arms. "Maybe you should take her out for a walk. Give her some fresh air." You glance at the window, where the sun is just starting to set, casting an orange glow over the room. "I’m sure she’d love it."

He tilts his head, looking down at the baby for a moment before turning his gaze back to you. "Walk?" His voice is tinged with uncertainty, though the excitement is clear. "Out? Me take... little us... out?"

You chuckle, reaching for his hand. "Yeah, you can take her out. You’ve got it all figured out now. Just don’t go far, okay?"

Mr. Crawling seems to mull this over for a second, then nods vigorously. “Me take her out. Little us see the world!” More like Little us see the apartment complex! He carefully stands to his full height, head edging near the ceiling. He cradles the baby against his chest as if she weighs nothing at all, her tiny face peeking out from the edge of his kimono.

You watch them with a smile as he makes his way toward the door, stepping slowly, deliberately, with all the care in the world for the little bundle in his arms. There's a softness in his movements now, something that never existed when he first appeared in your life.

"Be careful, okay?" you call out, suddenly feeling a pang of protectiveness. The world outside is unfamiliar and strange to him. Even though he’s getting better at understanding it, there’s still so much he’s yet to experience.

“Careful," he calls back, his voice full of assurance. “Little us... strong. Safe.”

You smile, watching as he disappears into the hallway, his laughter echoing faintly. You decide now would be a good time to wash the dishes. The space in the room is quieter now, but still filled with warmth.

As you finish folding the last onesie, you realise just how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time. A year ago, you would’ve never believed any of this was possible. Yet, here you are, in this strange new life with Mr. Crawling, raising your child together.

You step over to the window, looking out at the fading light of the day. The weight of it all settles on your shoulders for a moment. There’s a lot of unknown ahead of you, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a burden.

It feels like a future. And maybe, just maybe, it’s one you were always meant to have.

[confetti-critter]

I played minecraft for pretty much the whole day cuz there was no work today, and now I gotta do not minecraft stuff and it sucks ass 👎👎👎👎👎

[speakofcompersion]

Still Shining - Taemin

[tetraandtheapples]

Experimenting with colours...... Swanerror my beloved..... It's such a rarepair but I love them honestly please can I have more..... PLEASEEEE

I love them so much..... They're so silly billies guh grrr....... Die!!!! Death and pain!!!!!!! I have so much to say about them but I have no idea where to even begin!!! So I just shoot them with various deathly lasers and hope they stop infesting my mind.

inspo...... :P

[art-is-kayos]

Phone games

[hazele-omega]

Hello Tumblr I present to you a redraw of a piece from 2023, feat. Chaos (NMS avatar character) fighting a corrupted sentinel

I really liked the concept of the original piece and figured I should give it another shot now that I have Lighting Skills...

Original/comparison under cut

[avedoodles]

personally i like when the mosquito humanoid is more mosquito than human

[welcometojurassicparker]

Finally, after 84 years (no jk, I think it took me a day in total), I managed to finish my first piece of fanart: 'tis my favourite boi, Data! He still looks a bit wonky, but I've never done digital drawing before soooo..... There are some minor details I really love about this drawing, but the majority irks me asdfghjkl. Anyway, have a little Data to brighten your day. :3

[averlym]

may 19 is anne boleyn’s deathday ~holiday anon

paid the price with the swordsman's swing

[theflyingfeeling]

djdfjfjkdlfk

[lunarharp]

wip and if ppl's clothes turn pink when theyre in love

[andresylupin]

went to the cinema yesterday to see The Name of the Rose, which I had seen only once before, like ten or twelve years ago, and it was such an incredible experience to rediscover that film, and since i was in the mood i decided to start watching the new adaptation that came out a few years ago as a tv series and. it's a different experience for sure. i'm only 25min in, so i'm not really forming an opinion just yet, but i'm having thoughts. (also Michael Emerson is here, as the abbot, which surprised me because based on what i know about the character, it doesn't seem to require that "little freak" vibe that emerson has, but i am glad to see him there!)

also i have never read the original novel, which i'll rectify in the very near future.

[non-un-topo]

It's strangely gender-affirming when my mom gets defensive and accuses me of mansplaining

[dude-iloveu]

[dragonfang-photography]

All set for the Seven Mountains hike tomorrow.

[tracle0]

~ Intro page ~

Howdy! I’m Trade, a 22-year-old writer and aspiring conservationist from the UK. I can often be found hunched over my sketchbook, walking in the wilderness, or travelling to whichever county I can find volunteering opportunities in. 

This blog is primarily for any odd interest I have, although I angle it as a writerblr the most. You can find my art and occasional writing under the #trade-marked tag on this here blog. Following this are the current, past, and future WIPs I have. Please enjoy!

-

Prophet story (title pending) (in progress) - when a prophets brother is possessed by a god-killing sickness, a race begins to preserve or destroy the last relics of dead divinity, and refuse or give forgiveness for errors of the past. Featuring the complexities of brotherhood, the thin line between “prophet” and “schizophrenic”, a divine and glorious anger and a desperate attempt to reach someone who may already be lost to you. Tagged under #prophet wip

The Spiders Song (complete!) - With a devastating plague wrecking a kingdom and a city, a group of semi-experienced people try and retrieve a cure in time to save their homes - and try not to kill each other on the way. Featuring enemies-to-friends, a patron-based magic system with gods who have no problem getting involved in their servants lives, the exact lengths you would go through to save someone you love, and a funny little ghost.  Tagged under #tss 

The Crows Death (sequel to TSS) (on hold) - after retrieving the cure and escaping a cruel gods clutches, peace should be assured to our weary adventurers - until the crowned prince of Glalis is kidnapped and held as a sacrifice, leaving the rest of the team to try and track him down and save him before it’s too late. Featuring the gruelling process of confronting and recovering from trauma, a blood-feud so old that no one can remember why or how it started, intense contemplation of mortality, and a budding and doomed sapphic romance. Tagged under #tcd 

Short story collection (in progress) - a group of interlinked short stories, based in the TSS world, following the only servant to the Spider to ever escape their god, and the process they underwent as a child to adjust to the real world. Featuring adoptive parental figures, an extreme skew on how the world works, a secret our servant has to learn to keep to themselves, and a constant lure back to a manipulative and cloying god, who waits only a short walk away from this new haven. Tagged under #atlas 

Necromancer WIP (title pending) (developing) - the next generation after TCD. When the next necromancer is finally born in one of the highest and richest levels of Glalis, the kingdom seems to be fully recovering and back to normal - until a second is discovered in the lowest, poorest part. This spare servant is taken from her community to the palace, and starts to notice the discrepancies between where she was raised and what these privileged elites seem to have. Featuring strong class conflicts and ties, young children trying to make sense of a complex issue, an exploration of privilege and magic in deprived societies, and characters carried onwards from the previous stories because it’s my book and I do what I want. Untagged.

Ghost WIP (title pending) (developing) - a young girl is marked as the new bearer of the ghost crown, which is already bad news, made worse by the fact she’s still alive. Featuring a begrudgingly made father figure, a reverse heist, a race against bounty hunters to stay alive, and a corrupting and powerful heirloom, calling for one girls head. Tagged under #ghost wip 

Colour WIP (title pending) (developing) - when a rare purple mage is found living in isolation with her paranoid parents, she is taken under the wing of a blind red mage, and able to learn about her magic whilst staying connected to her roots. Featuring a magic system that merges Waterbending with the colour wheel, intense political and class divides, and an mentor/apprentice plot of some sort. Untagged. 

Death is a Silvertongue (complete!) - a mute Silvertongue tries to balance the guilt of manipulation with the responsibility of using their ability correctly - and then blows up a factory, adding a ghostly crowd to their conscious. Featuring intense platonic love, dabblings with faith, recovery, and me having a lot of fun with the extreme limitations of British Sign Language in America. Tagged under #dias