#Here some over polished doodles

[xandrikart]

[pachnychnyszek]

insane Australian postmaster outside storage room window. normal Tuesday evening in hermitcraft server.

Drawn during Skizz's last (20-2-2024) stream!

[tiktowafel]

do you ever think about how all you used to draw when you were 10 was ponies and that you should still know how to do that, then get an idea and proceed to draw something like these in nearly one sitting and it turns out better than any drawing you've done in the entire past month

sooo anyway does anyone have cutie mark or pony name ideas for them?? lol

[valgeristik]

twilight princess + skyward sword stuff ive been drawing the past few days for practice and for fun <3 (you can take TP link's mustache out of my cold, dead hands)

Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List

E-sims donation

[cowgirlcherrie]

STARTEAM ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ volleyball! loser! ellie drabble

a/n: there is no plot for this it’s just a thought I haven’t been able to shake since seeing the amazing volleyball! ellie art by @caspervi ♡♡

volleyball! ellie art. support their work here!

update: also just realized @elliespeach has a wonderful volleyball! ellie fic and basically kickstarted the idea so support their work here too !!

content: 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, lowk saliva play if u squint bro, fem! water girl! reader

— song(s): STARTEAM by lastclass & byelilfly

Ellie was in timeout. 

Well not literally, but being benched felt like she was. Suddenly she was 5 again and her teacher was moving her card to red, for her indecent behavior. Ellie wanted to whine, she wanted to fight back – bitch and moan. She had been putting in the work! Up in the gymnasium at the crevice of the glowing somber night to practice her bumping and setting; perfecting her spikes and it seemed as if she would never get to reach tranquility. She couldn’t be an ace, she couldn’t beat her opponents. 

She was drenched in sweat head-to-toe —  the fabric of her jersey sticking to her chest like glue. Beads of fresh sweat dripped down her forehead as she licked her dehydrated lips. She needed to breathe. But Ellie didn’t know breath control. She didn’t know stopping either, her routine was damaged, she was jaded and her brain was fuzzy the plays didn’t even make sense to her. Her brain was insanely flawed.  Nothing but incoherent doodles as her coach yelled in her face to take 5. 

All she knew was routine:

Wake up at 5 am. Go for a run at 7 am. Nutritious breakfast at 9 am. Practice 10-4 pm. A quick nap and muscle soak before a game.

All her hard work burned into ashes; eventually to dust and crumbs as it became nothing but a false sense of dedication. Sleepless nights and aching muscles just to be benched. Ellie was incandescent. Her eyebrows furrowed, cheeks a pulsing red – like clown makeup from the intensity. Her blood cells flowed healthily and her heartbeat was in the root of her ears like the pulsing of the music that kept her going.  While some may say a body is a temple; her’s was a ticking time bomb ready to go off in any second. 

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes open, the sound of sneakers against the freshly polished floors made her eardrums bleed, similar to scraping a metal ruler against a school board. 

Dropping her head as she looked down at her legs. Her thighs were drenched in sweat the shin guards cutting off any circulation, making her thighs look wonderfully plump and 10x more muscular. Ellie was becoming hyper-aware until a sudden tap on her back and a sweet toothache-inducing smell filled her nostrils. 

It was you.

The water girl, her hero. Just the right person to fix her cravings. A thin white ridged paper cup in your hand with water filled to the brim as you held it out in front of you with a gentle smile. Ellie always thought your sweetness was ravishing. She thought her teammates were undeserving of such pleasure and authenticity from you. The other girls would dim your light – and by dimming it she meant flirting with you. Calling you sweetheart and asking to take you out to dinner which was followed by your rich voice telling them, “It’s unprofessional!” but she was too bashful to admit it; she wanted to do it too. 

The word baby could not escape her lips without being immediately flustered by it, Ellie was too smitten and starstruck by you. Quiet and lightly spoken, hell she was called ‘Bitchless 7 Williams’ for a reason. Stuttering over her words, hands shakier than ever, her affection becoming aggression she wanted nothing more than to drag herself out. She wishes she could be more flirty, more outspoken; then just maybe she would have been lucky to snag you, her water girl. 

You knew she could get down, she palpably could get rough with the right motivation. It was the way her anger transcended on the court, you were sure it would manifest in other places too. But part of you loved it, it turned you on, when you were alone at night, entangled in your duvet as you wondered what she would look like calling out your name. She was a fucking loser, a pathetic whiney player that still took the fall.

Initially, you thought you were sweeter; more gentle but Ellie was more bashful than you. She wasn’t like her teammates. Ellie didn’t make eye contact with you at all or call you names. She did, however, stare at your boobs for too long through your tightly fitting workout jacket that hugged every crevice of your body just right. Giving your boobs an extra push. It was perverted, but you caught her every time. Coincidentally that’s what got you hooked on her. You weren’t going to stop her. 

Like a hound dog you could smell what she wanted, you never failed to see the drool finally dripping from her tongue that she masked by bringing up her cup with great speed as the stretchy saliva dripped down the edge of her fingers and her cup. You did notice how she would leave a sticky residue; her clear fluids all over the cup before handing it back to you. Running off right before you can get a word in.

“Hope you’re thirsty It took me hooours to pour this” you teased, holding out the cup towards Ellie with a smile. That soft grin of yours that easily made anyone swoon on you. Ellie caught herself doing it again. In a room with so many people, her team, friends, and family, she sent a quick look at your boobs before looking back at the sparkles in your eyes. Like diamonds and pearls; vibrant and warm. Lewd thoughts raced in her brain like gnats. 

She was giving you teeth, as she took her shirt up; again, to wipe her forehead clear of the everflowing liquid. 

“Oh yeah,” Ellie taunted back, with a smirk on her face. She wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from, so she reached out to take the cup from you. Bringing the cup up to her lips as she tilted her head back, taking large gulps of the water not breaking eye contact with you. You saw the string of saliva again as she dropped the cup from her lips, taking a soft breath. 

“More . . .” Her voice was breathy as if she ran a mile. 

“More what?”

“More water…please?” Ellie pleaded, she spoke fast and in a whisper shaking the empty cup as she handed it back to you.

“Sure thing Els,” You confirmed taking the cup from her hands feeling the sudden dampness of her drool around the cup. Almost damaging to the deteriorating paper. “You got something here”

You pointed to your own chin with your pointer finger, as Ellie quickly rushed a hand up to wipe off any excess liquid with the back of her hands, fingertips covered in bandaids. 

“Sorry,” it was a quiet whisper. 

You turned to the back this time giving Ellie a full view of the way you looked in the short shorts — that were almost as tight as your top. Ellie had to look away. Almost as if she were being under surveillance, she had to behave; control her wandering eyes that betrayed her more than often.

Just as you were about to give Ellie the cup again, a shout from her coach filled the spacey gymnasium. With that simple shout, Ellie became a machine. Lifting her legs up forgetting about her water request and rushed back onto the court. If she was so lucky to have the chance, she’ll fetch the water from you later. Hopefully with a reward on her back. 

Williams! Back on the court! Let’s try it again #7 Hustle! 

[strawberrymochin]

Unkempt desires

Megumi meets gojo again 20 years later after the big battle.

Genre/Warnings-: reincarnation au! Grownup! Megumi, he has a family, our gumi all grown up, crackhead yuuji, mentions of death, flashbacks.

Megumi looked over the sea. Its waves glimmering brightly as the sunrays dance shimmers along the tides.

Something about it was nostalgic, maybe it was the warm fuzzy smell or maybe it was the azure of the water under the bright sun, which resembled the eyes of someone, who megumi was once under the debt of— Satoru Gojo.

Maybe he is still in debt.

The scar from the battle on his face has now faded into a cream color slightly in contrast to his face.

He wondered how gojo’s scars would have looked if he were still alive now. Would those millions of cuts on his skin prick him with the memory of Megumi, unconscious, fighting with him under sukuna’s control? Will they prick him like splinters of iron, bringing tears to his eyes? Lol he would probably just laugh it off.

The fact that he even wrote him a silly letter apologizing for something as grave as murdering his biological father, with a pun and a silly doodle included.

Megumi chuckles at the memory of how he used to hate those eyes peeking on him, especially on nights when he had fever. Almost giving him a heart attack.

Ironic how he hated them back then, and how he misses them now!

‘Megumi, let's make a sand castle’ he would say, on his days off, when he forced the fushiguros to the beach, to have some family time. You would laugh with tsumiki on those castles which barely even looked like one.

“Hey, dad! Let's make a sand castle!!” A little girl ran up to Megumi, tugging his hand and dragging him.

“No need to hurry y/n, the sand ain't going anywhere.” Megumi said as the girl kept dragging him towards the failed attempts of sand castles she made.

He now had a family, a happy one. One lovely wife he fell in love with(which he never thought he would) and one daughter dear to his heart. He named her after you, the only mother figure he ever had in his life.

It's been 21 years since then.

You were no longer alive, nor was gojo. Still the memories were alive. The memories which he treasured with an uncertain fear in his heart, he didn't quite recognise, until his daughter started to look exactly like you.

Her eyes resembled yours, her lips resembled yours, your face resembled hers, so did her curse technique.

His wife said maybe it was a blessing, a reincarnation. She was happy, so was Megumi, but it would be wrong to admit he wasn't afraid.

Afraid of history repeating.

Afraid of his daughter's curse technique to evolve.

Afraid of an uncertain future even beyond his capacity to behold.

Itadori barged into his office, wearing nobara’s skirt.

“ I'm Kugisaki nobara!!!!”, he went to such an extent on detailing his look that he even stole one of her eye patches.

“You're gonna get your ass drilled by her hammer once she finds you.” Megumi drawled checking through the files of the freshers who are about to enroll into their school. He's a teacher now, continuing what gojo dreamt of, so did Itadori Yuji.

“You're not fun. And you shouldn't use such language, if you're raising a lovely daughter. Wouldn't want her to turn like nobara or maki senpai.” He said, pulling on the chair and settling on it with one leg crossed over the other.

“Well, why are you here?” inquires Megumi, already full of his drama.

“To inform you that we are going to get a kid off execution.”

“Execution?”

“Yes, a potential threat to higher ups and society.” Yuji tapped his fingers on the wooden desk polished with varnish, his face slowly adapting to the depth of his statement.

“To the higher ups?”

“Mhm, yeah the great stuff gojo sensei did…I can't believe I missed such a great show.”

Megumi was silent for a while. The last threat to the higher ups ever to be born was gojo and geto.

He could never imagine someone could be more of a threat to them. Until and unless they find out about his daughter's curse technique.

“Let's get going already, I don't think they will resist the urge of killing the kid for any longer.” Itadori got up from the chair, followed by Megumi. (And don't worry he was caught by nobara midway who kept the drilling ass move for later and let him go to meet the kid)

Itadori was reminded of a similar yellow hue and the fresh flood of memories following it, some pleasant, some bitter that made his throat itch. However, someone who was more pale in the execution room was Megumi. As something wasn't sitting right with him. Every single step he was taking was increasing the dread he felt for his daughter's reality to be discovered. And he didn't understand why he felt like that.

Finally they came to the familiar hall and in the center of it was a boy sitting in a chair, his back facing them. He wore a navy hoodie and his complexion was pale. Even paler than Megumi.

Itadori glanced at Megumi before calling out to the kid, who was unnaturally calm, as if he were about to watch a movie instead of getting himself killed for bearing a burden he never chose to bear.

“Kiddo! We're here to save your ass for getting killed…mind facing us a bit.” cold sweat broke out on Megumi, as Itadori let those words out his mouth. Even he wasn't feeling good. Something was so, so wrong.

The kid stood up. His hair, a familiar silver. He turned slowly, for what seemed a long agonizing time. And when he finally did.

Megumi was numb.

It was him. The same eyes. The same mouth. The same hair. But it was as if time got tangled in its own threads and somehow the gojo satoru, who was long dead, was in his child form in front of their eyes.

Itadori gulped, he glanced at Megumi, before getting his shit together and shutting his mouth, preventing himself from gaping at the kid.

“I'd prefer you save yourselves from me first. And I wouldn't feel any remorse for not having a better judgment." The kid spoke in a voice, a lot less mature than the boys remembered of gojo. Then they remembered, the kid’s just 12 years old.

And Megumi was right. Something was so wrong. Cuz’ even if the kid looked exactly like gojo, he wasn't any like him.

“You shouldn't mess with satoru gojo.” He said, his fingers forming a hand sign, with slight blue light sparkling.

“Sensei…” whispered Megumi, which was barely even audible, and yet nothing changed in the kid's demeanor.

He was gojo. Alive and reincarnated. And Megumi knew it. But gojo didn't.

a/n- I was nervous writing this, since i haven't wrote for so long, forgive me if this is shit!

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: idia shroud celebrates your birthday!!

COMMENTS: a birthday present for @twstchatterbox the MOON to my SUN the DYNAMIC to my DUO the BLACK CAT to my GOLDEN RETRIEVER!!!! i love you lots and lots i am so glad we are friends i am squeezing you so tight from the other side of the world.

i wanted to keep this a surprise and i HOPE I SURPRISED YOU i hope you didnt see this coming sjdjdsjdj you have given me so many gifts from your doodles of me to your doodles of US to all the interests you've shared with me to looking out for me all this time AND EVEN STAYING UP LATE TO TALK TO ME?? I AM SO SORRY FOR YOUR SLEEP SCHEDULE

i hope you have the best birthday ever you deserve so much so take this awkward gamer boy. you know your lore. i know your lore. i tried to incorporate it and im sure only you will understand it but thats the point isnt it?

THIS IS GOING ON TOO LONG. I SHOULD HAVE MADE THIS A SEPARATE POST. ANYWAYS. GO READ IT I LOVE YOU

You cross your arms over your chest, amused as the blue package floats silently over to you. It stops right in front of you and a flickering screen loads from a small projector propped on the top of the box.

accept quest?

yes. no.

It’s ridiculous of him to put a no option. You press the yes option and a cheerful jingle rings from the speakers as the package drops at your feet. Bending over, you scoop it into your arms, a delicate smile on your face. You can feel quite a few gazes on your back but you opt to ignore them, walking out of your dorm and towards the source of your gift.

Ever since the events of winter break, you’d become far more accustomed to the halls of Ignihyde. The students seem to have grown more accustomed to you in turn, although some still scamper away from you.

There was only so much that could be done, you think. Besides, your presence here was not because of them. You were here for their Housewarden.

As you reached his door, you wasted no time reaching out to knock. Each tap of your knuckles against his door was crisp and loud, just in case he was wearing his headphones. The corners of your lips lift into a smile as you hear him shuffling around, no doubt checking up on his room to make sure it’s just the normal amount of messy but not too messy lest you get suspicious that he’s a slob or that he cleaned just for you.

You already know he did, though.

“Are you going to keep me waiting?” you call out teasingly, tapping your foot on the polished floors.

The door creaks open slowly, and the soft pink glow of Idia's hair lights up his face. Your heart takes a tumble in your chest.

“Hi.” you breathe, “I wanted to open your gift with you.”

Idia squeaks and opens the door to let you inside, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Um, okay. Thanks.” he says, mumbling each word as if he isn’t sure what he’s saying at all, “You, uh, didn’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.” you refute, and you both understand what would have come after that.

So let me do this.

“Okay.” he jams his hands into his pocket and shrugs, always so awkward around you but so obvious, “I hope you like it.”

“I’ll love it.” you reassure him.

After all, a heart as kind as Idia Shroud’s wouldn’t pick anything but the best.

[laviefantasie]

“Just A Girl” : 03

" GOJO SATORU X PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER READER "

SYNOPSIS: After insisting so much, you're finally given the opportunity to attend college away from home and feel like a normal girl. It is there that you meet Gojo Satoru, another undergraduate student, and for the first time in your life are shown what having a true connection feels like. Or at least that's what you think...

SERIES MASTERLIST

< prev | next >

The morning light filters through your curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You’re still clutching the oversized leather jacket you wore back from last night’s hallway encounter, its faint scent lingering in the fabric. Just hours ago, you’d met the mysterious RA, Geto; the kind, laid-back Shoko; and the bright, playful TA Gojo. For the first time since you arrived, you’d felt something close to normal—a taste of real freedom and maybe even belonging.

But the morning brings back nerves. You sit up slowly, feeling the weight of the day ahead settle on your shoulders. New routines, new people, new risks. Determined to try again, you choose something more low-key from your wardrobe: a pair of dark jeans and a cream-colored sweater. It’s simple, comfortable, and miles away from the designer outfits you wore yesterday. A quiet smile creeps onto your lips as you imagine the look on your mother’s face if she could see you now.

Stepping out of your dorm, you take a breath, steadying yourself. Today, you think, will be different.

Your first class is in a sprawling lecture hall filled with students. You scan the sea of faces, searching for an open seat that won’t make you the center of attention. But before you can decide where to sit, you spot a familiar head of striking white hair near the window. Gojo Satoru is lounging at his desk, surrounded by students who hang on his every word as he gestures animatedly, his laughter ringing out across the room. He’s magnetic, drawing attention without even trying.

As you slip quietly into a row of seats near the back, hoping to remain unnoticed, Gojo’s gaze meets yours, and he waves with a grin that’s impossible to ignore.

“There she is! Miss Gossip Girl herself!” he calls out, his voice carrying across the lecture hall. Heads turn, and you feel a dozen eyes fall on you, curious and wary.

For a moment, you freeze, wishing you could disappear. But Gojo’s easy smile and mischievous energy are infectious, giving you the courage to play along.

“Hey, Jack Frost” you call back, feeling a small surge of confidence.

With steady steps, you make your way over, joining the group around him. The students glance at you with mixed reactions—some curious, others reserved—but Gojo’s grin remains unwavering.

“Everyone, this is Y/N,” he announces, introducing you with a dramatic flourish, “straight out of a fashion magazine and here to save us from boredom”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. His easy charm softens the edges of your nerves, making it easier to relax. He proceeds to introduce you to his friends: there’s Shoko, the brunette you met yesterday, who nods at you with a smirk; Mei, a platinum blonde with a calm demeanor and piercing eyes; and Yuuta, a quiet, kind-looking guy who offers you a small, shy smile.

The lecture begins soon after, and as the professor drones on, you notice Gojo sneaking glances in your direction, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He slips you a note halfway through class—a doodle of you in a royal crown. You bite back a laugh, writing a quick response (Very original, Frost) before passing it back.

When the lecture ends, Gojo immediately ropes you into joining them for lunch.

“Come on, Gossip Girl” he says, nudging your shoulder, “It’s time for your campus tour, courtesy of yours truly”

As you follow them outside, you feel a strange sense of lightness. For once, you’re not ‘the President’s daughter’ or a polished image from a magazine. You’re just Y/N, trailing behind a group of friends as they lead you to a quiet courtyard under the shade of an ancient oak tree.

“So, Miss High Society,” Shoko teases, glancing at you over the rim of her iced coffee, “how’s the college experience treating you?”

You hesitate, tracing the edge of your sandwich wrapper.

“It’s… different” you admit, the words feeling heavier than you’d anticipated “I thought I’d feel like myself here, but it’s hard to shake off… everything else”

Mei, who had been quietly listening, nods in sympathy, “People love to put others in boxes. It’s easier to judge someone when you think you know their story”

Gojo, lounging beside you, nods in agreement, “Exactly. Everyone’s got their own labels. Shoko’s the ‘cool girl’ with her cigarette,” he says with a smirk, dodging the playful punch Shoko throws his way, “And I’m the class clown no one takes seriously”

He grins, his easy confidence radiating as he says, “The trick is to own it. Labels only have power if you let them”

His words hit you harder than you expected. For years, you’ve tried to fit into an image carefully sculpted for you by your parents, the media, and countless eyes watching every move. But here, with Gojo’s teasing and Shoko’s steady gaze, you feel a small glimmer of hope that maybe you could create your own label.

The group falls into a comfortable rhythm of talking and laughter, each person contributing to the relaxed, easygoing atmosphere. At one point, Shoko leans closer, gesturing for you to follow her as she leads the group away from the bustling courtyard.

“Come on” she says with a faint smile, “Let’s go somewhere quieter”

Shoko leads you down a winding path to a secluded grove near a pond. The trees arch overhead, their leaves casting dappled shadows that dance in the sunlight. Wildflowers line the pond’s edge, their colors vibrant against the rich green backdrop. It’s quiet here, away from the noise of campus, and for the first time since you arrived, you feel yourself fully relax.

“Welcome to my personal paradise” Shoko says, lighting up a cigarette as she leans against a tree, “Perfect place to hide from the chaos”

You nod, feeling the peacefulness seep into your bones. This little corner of campus feels like a safe haven—a place where you can let your guard down, if only for a while. You sit by the water’s edge, watching the gentle ripples, and lose yourself in the stillness.

After a while, Gojo breaks the silence, “You know, Y/N, there’s a party this Friday. One of my friends is hosting. You should come”

The suggestion catches you off-guard, and your first instinct is to decline. Parties have always been off-limits—a world filled with risks and flashing cameras. But Gojo’s expression is open and sincere, his casual tone making it sound less like a grand invitation and more like an everyday gesture.

“Come on” he says, noticing your hesitation, “It’s not about making a scene. It’s just a chance to let loose and have fun. You know… college stuff”

You glance at Shoko, who raises an eyebrow, a subtle encouragement in her gaze. Mei and Yuuta both nod, their smiles warm and inviting. There’s a pull, a quiet assurance in their acceptance. Here, with them, you feel like you could be yourself without the fear of judgment.

“Okay” you say finally, your voice steady, “I’ll come”

Gojo’s face lights up with a grin, and Shoko smirks approvingly. As the group heads back toward the dorms, you feel something shift within you—a small, tentative step toward the person you’ve always wanted to be.

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

The days leading up to the party are filled with small moments that deepen your bond with the group. You meet Gojo and Shoko between classes, grabbing coffee at the campus cafe, and spend long afternoons with Mei in the library, where she shares stories of her travels and college life. Yuuta often joins in with his shy humor, quietly supportive yet always ready to laugh at Gojo’s latest antics.

One night, after a late study session, you find yourself back in the hallway outside Shoko’s room, wearing your favorite silk pajamas and the oversized leather jacket the RA, Geto, lent you. You knock softly, expecting her, but the door swings open to reveal him instead—the RA, with his dark hair framing a warm smile.

“And who might you be?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a slight shiver down your spine.

You blush, pulling the jacket tighter around yourself.

“I was, um, looking for Shoko” you stammer, feeling suddenly foolish, “But… I can come back later”

Geto laughs, shaking his head, “No worries. It’s not every day I get to see someone looking so cozy in my jacket”

He offers you a gentle smile, his eyes warm and slightly teasing.

Before you know it, you’re inside the room laughing, chatting easily with him about everything from favorite books to the quirks of dorm life. The world outside fades, and you feel a strange comfort in the quiet space between his words. He was a comforting presence, calm and soothing.

You didn’t notice his calculating gaze.

⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊ ☼ ⛉ ☼ ⛊

On Friday night, as you prepare for the party, you slip into something that feels like a balance between the old you from home and the new you blossoming here. A simple black dress, elegant yet understated, paired with boots instead of heels. It’s a subtle rebellion, but it feels powerful to you.

The party is a whirlwind of music, laughter, and lights. You feel Gojo’s presence by your side, a steadying anchor, and the warmth of Shoko’s arm around your shoulder. For the first time, you’re not an outsider looking in.

The party is a whirlwind of music, laughter, and lights. You can feel the energy buzzing in the air, a vibrant pulse that matches the beat of the music echoing through the house. Gojo is by your side, a steady anchor, laughing and introducing you to everyone he knows, which seems to be just about everyone. Shoko throws her arm around your shoulders, flashing you a grin, and Mei hands you a soda with a smile that makes you feel like you’ve always belonged here.

As the night unfolds, you lose yourself in the crowd, the conversations, and the music. You let yourself laugh freely, sinking into the rhythm of the moment. For the first time, you’re not the girl under constant watch; you’re just Y/N, a college student at a party, surrounded by friends.

At one point, Gojo drags you onto the dance floor. You laugh, trying to keep up with his energetic, ridiculous moves as he spins and twirls with exaggerated flair. The two of you dance wildly, abandoning any semblance of grace, and it feels liberating. You’re breathless, grinning from ear to ear, as you finally let go of the last remnants of your usual restraint.

“See?” Gojo shouts over the music, his voice warm and encouraging, “College life isn’t so bad, is it?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “No, it’s… actually kind of amazing”

Just as you start to catch your breath, Shoko reappears, pulling you aside with a knowing smile.

“Come on,” she says, leading you out onto a balcony that overlooks the campus.

The cool night air wraps around you, and you close your eyes, savoring the peace and quiet away from the crowd inside.

Shoko leans on the balcony railing, lighting a cigarette as she gazes out at the stars.

“You know,” she says, exhaling a stream of smoke, “you’re doing pretty well for someone who’s basically a celebrity around here”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “I don’t feel like one tonight. And honestly, I think I needed that”

She nods, a rare softness in her expression, “It’s good to see you like this. You seem… lighter”

A silence falls between you, comfortable and full. The music and laughter from inside fade to a distant hum as you look out over the campus, feeling a strange sense of peace. You take a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs.

When you return to the party, you find yourself drawn back into the vibrant swirl of people, your laughter blending with theirs, the line between you and them blurred. For the first time, you feel like just another face in the crowd, and that thought brings a profound sense of freedom.

Later, as the night winds down, you find yourself standing beside Gojo near the entrance, saying your goodbyes to the group. Mei pulls you into a quick hug, her smile warm and genuine, while Shoko waves lazily, telling you to meet her for coffee tomorrow.

“Thanks for coming, Gossip Girl”, Gojo says, giving you a lopsided grin, “You did pretty well for a freshman”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully, “Thank you for the invitation, Jack Frost. I think I actually had… fun”

He laughs, looking at you with a hint of pride, “Good. Because you’re stuck with us now, whether you like it or not”

You had no idea how true those words were.

As you make your way back to your dorm, the quiet campus feels different somehow. The buildings loom tall and serene, the lights casting soft shadows across the pathways, and you walk slowly, savoring the sense of belonging that still lingers. You don’t even pay attention to Sukuna’s presence near.

When you reach your room, you collapse onto your bed, a smile tugging at your lips as you replay the night’s events. It feels like a turning point, a small but significant step toward the life you’ve always wanted. The world outside your window is vast and open, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

You close your eyes, letting sleep claim you, your heart light and full of hope for the first time in a long time.

TAG LIST: @aishies-stuff @kouyoumarryme @mikyapixie @simbaaas-stuff @ichikanu

Can someone please help me understand why tumblr isn’t allowing me to link my old work on my new one? D:

[s0fti3w1tch]

Tentative Devotee AU (TBC Soon)

Leonardo is a Foot trainee, raised and trained by Lieutenant and Brute since he was 9. Life before then is fuzzy at best. — In the past several months, he's been going on his first proper missions, quickly aware of a persistent threat against the Foot Clan: 3 mutant turtles and a human who've foiled them time and time again.

What he wasn't aware of was that they were 4 siblings who never gave up on finding their missing brother.

CONTENT WARNING! This AU will explore: Mourning of family / Mourning of a child (who isn't actually dead, but believed to be). Violence is canon-typical up to the standards of the movie— That is also a reference point for the tone of this AU. There will be cult themes and dips into the topic of cult trauma, alongside family issues.

Main Comic:

Enemies || [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ tbc... ]

Baby Blue || [coming soon]

[TBA]

Minisodes/Mini-Comic:

Donnie's Apology Gift

First Mission Mishaps!

PSAs: Triggering Content, Why Leo will not have a "Dark Side," Cult Parents

More content below the cut! ♥︎

Scrapped/Changed Ideas or Scenes:

"Maybe this is the lowest point of my life" / Severing Ties

Usagi's first design + role

Mona Lisa first design

Reference Sheets:

Leonardo's Room

UPDATED LEO FULL REF

Leo's Outfit Change + Sorta-Timeline

Hand Marking

Scarf

Leo's Guitar

Eyes (outdated)

Nail Polish

Butterfly Charm

Future!TD!Leo

Usagi WIP

Doodles:

More Lore/Story Heavy = ♥︎ / Just More Fun = ☀︎ / 💬 = answer to an ask

Leo Solo!

"Keep it together, Leo"

"What I know about family?"

He/They/Xe of the day! / Speed-Color ☀︎

Scooter Boy! ☀︎

He's Writing Fanfic ☀︎

Guac Baby ☀︎

"Yeah, of course! But also..." ☀︎

Animation Test

No Sleep

[ i was listening to sonic music while drawing this ] ☀︎

disillusionment

Cook :P ☀︎

3 Swords?! ☀︎ 💬

Peepaw'd :) 💬

Head Empty + Leo kinda mad ♥︎ 💬

Blep! 💬

Feelings Down ♥︎💬

Multi POV

TD Spoilers Over Memes [1]

Trust in the Foot ♥︎ 💬

"Keep your brother safe" ♥︎ 💬

Big Sisters ♥︎

Turtle Sister to Turtle Sister 💬

Foot Clan Family

Motorcycle Theft! 💬

Shell Cracks + A Small Moment ♥︎ 💬

Trans Sibs!!! ☀︎ 💬

Hamato Clan

Not Growing With Us ♥︎💬

Recognition? 💬 ♥︎

"Donnie, stay out of this"

Unknown Tension

Protective Older Twin 💬

"Can we be brothers?" 💬

Donnie's hope (colored ver: here)

"Donnie, whatcha got there?" ☀︎

Drawing for Donnie 1

Yōkai Connections

Hueso's First Encounter With Leo 💬

+ All my AU Crossover Content linked here~!

Separated Leo Crossover : Bathtub Arc ☀︎

Preview Comic (Test)

TMNT AU Competition Basketball Saga ☀︎

DOUBLE-HANDED BACKHAND SWING

Nail Bat Recieved

Leo Hype Squad!

No PomPoms

I didn't intend for this AU to be that big, but I realized I did want to give this a go and make at least something. It's my goal to finish this project eventually.

The AU will be told in segments, comics of various points of the story.

Bonus! Miscellaneous info that doesn't play big into this AU but matters enough to me:

Leonardo is transmasculine, uses he/they/xe pronouns and is referred to with primarily masculine terms.

A version of Stan Sakai's Usagi Yojimbo comics exists and it's Leo's second favorite comic series in this AU.

'Tentative Devotee' is the name of the fanfic I was originally going to write. It was just gonna be a 2-shot fic and a way to navigate some feelings as someone who was born and raised in, and eventually left, a cult.

The initial tone/direction of this AU was much different, Leo ending up in the Foot Clan under different circumstance (i.e. direct kidnapping from Lieutenant and Brute). I found this didn't quite work for me.

[elvenbeard]

Opening some Sketch Commissions!

I put out a small interest check for commissions in this style a while ago, and now I'd like to open 15 slots for starters due to some unexpected expenses recently.

In general my usual [Terms of Service] apply, with some slight adjustments for this special format. By commissioning me you agree to the above terms and as follows:

When your slot is confirmed you receive an invoice from me over the full amount that needs to be paid upfront before I get started (there is no draft that needs to be approved bc these sketches are basically what my drafts look like, just a little more color)

You get the chance to request edits once the drawing is finished!

You can request a slot only by filling out the following google form:

https://forms.gle/vVAfDtXUQcnc64f59

The end product is not a polished or very high resolution drawing, the above doodles are examples of what the final result could look like, but my style here is a lot less consistent compared to full illustrations. I'd still be super duper happy to draw some blorbos, OCs and canon characters alike, fandom or original (as long as you have a photo or screenshot reference I can work with!). You can request multiple slots for multiple portraits, but it is always going to be only one character per portrait!

Reblogging is as always greatly appreciated 💜Looking forward to hearing from you all and drawing your characters and faves :D

[qprpbj]

for the artist!pony artist!paul bonding enjoyers 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

i think pony’s like 9/10ish when he meets paul and naturally thinks he’s the most annoying fucking loser ass so on the entire planet bc this bitch is the guy stealing his big brother away from family nights more and more often and he really doesn’t wanna face that his big brother is growing up and doesn’t wanna spend time with him anymore. so naturally. hates this soc dudes guts and hates his stupid gay ass sweaters and his pristine ironed pants and..

and wait he draws on his shoes. paul straight up doodles all over his nice new shiny white converse. just like ponyboy does on his old handmedowns.

……so okay fine maybe he’s not so bad after all. paul keeps his drawings more or less under wraps besides the shoes he wears sometimes bc they look pretty fuckin sick. in fact all of paul’s drawings are pretty fuckin sick because ponyboy, this nosy ass 11 year old who can’t stand that his big brother has a life outside of him (begs mom to force darry to bring him out to go on their outings (unbeknownst to him and mom he’s crashing their dates like at least once a week but it’s fineeeee it’s so fine)), snoops in paul’s car under his seat n finds the sketchbook he uses and very purposely hides from darrel bc his fuckin comic book drawings and doodles and shit are beyond geeky and embarrassing and yet……and yet. suddenly pony thinks he’s the coolest person ever. even though he’s a soc. bc he writes comic stories (..he writes stories!!! just like ponyboy!!!!!) and draws page after page of nerdy doodles and he’s really not as scary as pony once thought he was. hence the bridging the divide between greasers and socs..see it’s all coming together

anyway. for pony’s birthday and christmasses till they break up paul buys pony lil art supplies and sketchbooks and pencils and oil pastels and shit. they’re fr some of pony’s most cherished things everrrr and he gets so nervy to use his supplies bc he doesn’t wanna waste them on bad art. paul draws pony lil doodles and superheroes and pictures of him and cartoon animals and comic thumbnails and shit for him to put up on his wall. which he does and he looks at them alllllll the time till darry and paul break up and suddenly darry can’t stand that pony has paul’s art up on his walls anymore so he rips them all down and takes them away from pony bc he’s an angsty heartbroken 18 year old. what else would he do.

anyway here is pony’s art style (mostly in ballpoint pen, nothings ever finished, lots of lil portraits and colours and details)

and paul’s (comicy, cartoony, lots of inks, pretty polished) in MY opinion. thank you pinterest

i fear i probably have more to add that i’m forgetting here but whatever this is my lore for them so far god bless 🙂‍↕️

[manasurge]

Your custom fanspec... tell me about it 👀

:BLUSHYSMILEYCATEMOJI: hehehe well, it is mostly done, it just needs the polishing up for proper posting display with the accompanied drawn diagrams and colour coding (also it's quite old at this point, started working on it a year ago and wanted to work on lore stuff so I put it on hold, so the doodles look kinda bad but oh well alsjdfsdfj). The one main thing I just have to make her Reformed Mordrem minions to display the rest with the little visual diagrams, but I can post what I have done here so far <3 (this is actually the first time I've posted the updated state of this WIP since I last talked about it last year lskjfs. So sorry in advance if some of this seems janky as I haven't gone over it in a hot minute) Note: I also wanna redo the icon thing to be more of an eye instead of the lotus since it makes more sense literally and thematically and to just try to make it look better in general. For context my OC Mourynn/Vallotash (same person kinda) is Mordremoth's (parasitic) Scion in a weird imposter (syndrome) situation (leaving that bit out for now), and her whole thing was inspired by the ??? area in Jahai bluffs with the one quote that inspired her existence "Are you a dragon dreaming that it's a hero? If you were, how would you know?", where the area also matches her colours thematically too, and why her Mesmer abilities all revolve around hallucinations and tapping into the "Dragon of mind/plant, roots/madness, etc." where the spec also evolves slowly over time as she develops, but it does get amped up during LS1 with Scarlet being responsible for kickstarting it (as she brainwashed Mourynn to help cultivate the Dreamthistle into the Toxic Offshoots, and from there with HoT and so on as things got worse and this just evolved into it's own thing, haha). Super abridging explanations (and badly lol) since I feel that part with the Toxic Alliance and those spores were an important step towards this becoming what it is. Also I still need to decide on names for some things, but oh well ;w; ANYWAYS! Mourynn's custom Mesmer elite spec (WIP):

[hotwaterandmilk]

Here are the pages from Hana to Yume's 50th anniversary books (Gold & Silver) that got me the most emotional. Photos only.

Let's start with Silver! Unsurprisingly I always get a tear in my eye when Matsushita Youko contributes anything to Hanayume. She'll never finish Yami no Matsuei (though pics like this make me dream) but I do hope she's having a good time gaming and doing whatever else makes her happy.

Similarly it has been SO long since Saenagi Ryou has drawn anything (I think her ITAN series was over a decade ago now?) it's great to see the Yorozuya boys looking fresh! I think you really had to be reading the magazine in 1999-2001 to really appreciate how popular that series was. Anyway, she's still got it!

Ragawa Marimo doing Akachan to Boku art of the boys a bit older?? MY EYES APPEAR TO BE LEAKING. Love these adorable brothers regardless of age, but wow Ragawa's art is looking polished these days. Love it!

Meanwhile Yuki Kaori kind of still has it with Cain and RIff, but the Mudou siblings definitely look more along the lines of her art in the lacklustre Tenshi Kinryouku: Tokyo Chronos. I do think it's nice seeing her draw both series again though, definitely makes me nostalgic.

Moving onto Gold... I had a huge grin on my face just glimsping a new doodle of the boys from Greenwood by Nasu Yukie. Look at those adorable dorks!

It was so nice seeing Nakamura Yoshiki's two most prominent leading ladies sharing the spotlight together. While Kyouko from Skip Beat! has been a prominent figure in Hanayume over the past two decades, Tsukasa was the Nakamura heroine I first became acquainted with in Tokyo Crazy Paradise so this page made me happy.

An honourary mention goes to Hiwatari Saki for providing an OK Shion and Mokuren. Not a patch on her art from the original Bokutama series, but this is quite cute.

Anyway, lots of great art from past & present Hanayume mangaka and some really heartfelt notes too. I highly recommend getting your own copies of these furoku books as they're quite lovely little keepsakes.

[flameultra04]

A little compilation of a few Tri Force Heroes related things I’ve drawn over the past few days.

My friend @/mxcks.realm made an October prompt list for our friends and I, with each few days based around a certain trio, and the week for my lads just finished up, so here are the things I’ve drawn for them. Prompt list is at the very bottom of the post!!

While these aren’t quite as polished as my usual works, I took them as a nice little challenge to see how fast I can draw.

Cool little thumbnail I made for Instagram that I just like so take it here too.

Day 10: Flashback

ALSO TW BLOOD AND ANGST FOR THE 9TH IMAGE. I can’t put another slide because of Tumblr’s mobile image limit (curses!!). The angst and blood is blurred, but it is there.

Day 11: Ice (can’t have my lads without some good ol Navy x Styla content 👀)

Day 12: Serpent (a redraw of a 2021 doodle)

Day 13: Hero (+ Day 8: Cat)

Day 14: Bow

Day 15: Ruins

And here is the prompt list!

[ratwithhands]

Since I finished the manga a few days back, I wanted to revisit my two demon slayer OCs I made last year. Here's Yoshi and Syougo ^^

Syougo and Yoshiaki are childhood friends who both ended joining the Demon Slayer corps after being separated earlier in life. Yoshi spent his years training under his retired slayer father before passing the final examination, while Syougo ended up having to figure his own methods out after his first teacher made it so he couldn't use a true breathing technique again.

As an overview of the techniques they use:

Field Breathing is a technique Yoshi's father came up with over his career in the corps. When he retired, he continued to polish the forms and taught them to Yoshi. Both the name and the forms it utilizes are based on the flora around the rice fields he was raised and later retired to. The technique emphasizes speed, flexibility, and applying pressure to the opponent as much as possible. It's fluidity and aggressiveness leads Yoshi to be quick in handling threats since he pushes opponents around

Spirit Breathing (or if you're using archaic kanji, Vengeful Spirit Breathing) is a breathing technique Syougo made as a way to regulate his body and state of mind after losing the lung capacity to use Total Concentration or other methods. It's based around his base breathing rate so he doesn't overexert himself, which means to an extent he is always using it. In combat it's intended to psych out opponents and help highlight their weak points. Since it's mostly a distraction/intimidation technique, Syougo uses a secondary weapon to get the jump on opponents when they're not focused.

For some bonus design notes, here's some details for how they dress:

Yoshiaki's samue is based on what he'd wear when working at the rice fields with his family. The light green colour comes from being dyed with wisteria leaves, a precaution his mother took hoping it would protect him

Having nostalgia from weaving baskets with his mom when he was younger, Yoshi tends to use dry reeds for securing things. He ties his hair with it, decorates his equipment with it, and though his legs aren't visible, he ties reeds in a crossed pattern over his kyahan

The brown cotton sageo and tsuba he uses are handed down from his father. The scar on his cheek is also there for the same reason, his father had one and Yoshi decided to cut his cheek to look cool and match 💀

Syougo's haori has kogin-zashi embroidery across the sleeves and shoulders. He sewed it himself in between his training as a way to decompress and slow down. His kyahan have a matching stripe across the front

Syougo's tsuba was gifted to him by his current mentor who thought he would enjoy the oblique patterning to match his outerwear. His current mentor also requested a nichirin style tanto for him to use for his secondary fighting technique

The ragged look of Syougo's hair comes from him prioritizing training over all else, even appearance. The only instance where he will fully comb and dress his hair is for important meetings and ceremonies. He does maintain the part of his hair though, modelled after his mentor's (much shorter) hair. This is one doodle with clean hair

I'd write more about their character but this is getting long as it is 💀

I have a piece with Syougo that I'm going to put up soon, and at my sister's request I'll try doing a matching one for Yoshi

Hope you guys like these fellas ^^ I'll see you later

[creepycranberry]

Poetry On Perspective

Eddie x EnglishMajor!reader

This is just something I wrote after consuming too much poetry (I tried okay?)

I think Eddie would like Bukowski.

Warnings and notes: she/her pronouns, some swearing, not proofread, not much of an ending, kind of open ended (might do another part, idk)

I hope y’all like it :)

<3•<3•<3•<3•<3•

“I’ve read bukowski,” she starts, up on the stage with her hair swept up behind her head, her bangs tickling her eyelashes as her eyes look downward to focus on the words she had previously written on the page, “and I’ve seen what Dickinson had to say. Two thoroughly different viewpoints, differing outlooks on love. With no more in agreement than that it exists. A man who talks of lovers and sparrows, and the whores and the pigeons. And a girl who speaks of death and men, and her garden and love.”

Jeff’s face was screwed up and gareth was shaking his head.

Eddie had read bukowski.

Eddie had referenced bukowski.

Hidden in the folds of a guitar riff and rock ballad were the stanzas to The Twins.

“Bukowski is an empty bar and a calloused hand and Dickinson is a robin at a bird bath and a carriage ride with an old friend. Perspective is a mistress who never appears the same for more than a month. She changes as the wind does, ebbs and flows depending on her mood.”

Eddie didn’t understand the entire point of the girl’s rambling.

Then again he wasn’t meant to be here. He was supposed to be an hour away in a hotel with a cigarette. Maybe a joint.

A flat tire had landed him on the side of the road, band members and equipment in tow. A bus of college students drove them into town, grant found a phone and called someone to help get the van but until they got it into town the guys were here.

They had watched the students go up one by one and read off nonsensical passages in their journals.

Eddie hadn’t been paying attention until the pretty girl came up on stage. Her sweaters hem a few inches above that of her skirt and her black nail polish chipped as she avoided the gaze of the crowd and flipped through her notebooks pages.

Her notebook was covered in doodles of different flowers and fish and post-it notes bloomed from the top of the thing until about halfway through where the pages were pristine and likely unused.

What had mainly caught his attention were the tattoos on her legs. Different patches of sharks and flowers adorned her skin. One in particular went from just above her knee and crept around the back of her thigh and up into her skirt.

He wanted to see what the rest of it looked like, what images the upper expanse of her thighs might be hiding and did her arms match?

“Perspective changes when she pleases. One day she can be the same as ever, grass is grass and flowers bloom and babies laugh, and the next maybe the grass weeds and flowers wilt and babies wail and fuss. A year is a week, a day is a decade. Your grandparents got married yesterday and you broke up with your ex a lifetime ago. Grass is grass, it’s meant to hold the dirt together, grass is weeds meant to invade your fathers yard so you never stop hearing about them. Babies laugh and babies cry but you don’t have to worry about that because you’re single and might die alone so you might never have babies. Your boyfriend was your everything and now your ex is the reason you smoke. Etc.”

She ends her rambling and closes her journal, looking to the rest of the small bar for critiques and hopefully some encouragement.

“It could use some clarity.” A boisterous voice pipes up and Eddie scans the crowd for the perpetrator.

A guy with thick rimmed glasses and patchy stubble stares up at her, his face the picture of audacity.

“I thought her point was perfectly clear.” Eddie shrugs and the guy looks over at Eddie before sighing.

“Her transitions weren’t clear, her sentences could be more concise. Her rambling could be poetry if it were only a bit more clear.” The guy offers.

“Or you could argue that adopting the style of bukowski and melding it with the imagery Dickinson was prone to using.” Eddie argues and the guy pauses thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line as he pulls together his thoughts.

Gareth and Jeff exchange a look of confusion at Eddie's knowledge of poetry and literature while Grant seems to be enthralled with the argument between the two boys.

“That’s a good take. I just mean that the initial examples of Dickinson and Bukowski could be better transitioned into her next points about perspective.”

Eddie nods, “I could see why you would make that argument but I kinda like the rambling. She’s writing how she thinks. Thoughts don’t always transition seamlessly, I think it’s pretty cool to just hear someone’s thoughts on a subject and I like that she gets you to think about it yourself.”

“I guess that’s just perspective for you.” The guy shrugs and Eddie grins, silently agreeing with him.

Eddie turns his attention to the girl in front of the class, “the personal touches were nice. Your writing was relatable. My uncle is probably outside our house fighting with the weeds right now.”

The girl smiles, “thank you, Eddie.”

Eddies eyebrows raise at his name. He didn’t know how she knew it but fuck did it sound nice when she said it. She smiled and stared at him through her bangs, pulling her notebook to her chest to discreetly reveal the doodle of corroded coffins' first album cover.

She stands up and goes back to her seat. The next person comes up but Eddie isn’t paying any attention to whatever they have to say.

He’s too stuck on her. Too obsessed with never letting his eyes leave her to even consider whatever the fuck the asshole on stage has to say.

He wants to try and talk tk her after all of the readings are through but as the students file onto the bus grant blocks his view of her, letting him and the guys know that the van is in the shop at the moment getting the tire changed and they should able to get back on the road in an hour or two.

By the time Eddie looks up from grant the bus doors are closing the girl is gone.