#How many times have I drawn this pose? Yes

[hajihiko]

dream i had

it was something like, the survivors are living Normal incognito lives in a normal society, but somehow information about them starts leaking out and suddenly someone knows about a few of their aliases (is there a rat amongst them or are they up against genius? Who knows....)

Imposter, Hajime and Fuyuhiko were the ones who found out that there was a crack in their security and most likely Impostor's home address had been discovered, they rushed back because his ◇husband◇ is at home but he's not answering.... when they get inside, they search and go into the garage, no one answers them but Hajime notices blood leaking in through a window that reaches ground level. They were too late and Imposter had a really sad and intense breakdown :( poor Ryota was innocent in all this...

the end

[redbean-nom]

Designs for adult versions of the clone cadets in bad batch as Rebellion leaders

The first weird thing I noticed was that they kept specifying that tbb are "defective CTs", whereas iirc most other clones leave out the "ct" part. additionally, "special training" must have been a reasonably expected occurrence for them, since it was used as the Hemlock-jungle-lab excuse. they're also, oddly enough, the only three survivors from a base full of both cadets and adult clones. and finally, all three of them have noticeably different face shapes.

so my guess for their origins is that they're the results of the kaminoans trying to replicate tbb's mutations in a commando template, making them all specialized CC command cadets. From what we've seen of them, they don't seem to have quite as prominent abilities as say, wrecker or hunter, but are definitely above average to have survived that long.

Anyways the mini-backstory for them here is that they end up joining the rebellion around 5 years later (assuming that they're 6/12 and 8/16 in tbb s3, they would be 11/22 and 13/26 here) as the lead squad for the clone rebel cell after rex, wolffe, and gregor retire (and echo and cody are presumably dead).

Bonus: I originally had Deke's hair as dyed blond, but then he started looking too much like Rex (esp with the jaig eyes and partial arc armor) so I changed it back

edit: sorry i forgot to tag spoilers at first! it has since been fixed

[karenssupplystore]

Photo booth (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN! reader)

Warnings: none (let me know if there is any!)

Word count: 1079

There weren't many times when Simon had a day off, but when he did, you better know he'd be spending every moment with his partner. 

Back for a few days after a long mission? Reports are finished in record time and left on Price's desk.

A few hours between long meetings? He's calling you or sending a text, just wanting a moment of peace and to hear your voice before he'll inevitably have to deal with Soap's shenanigans.

Point being any time away from work he has, you're the first thing on his mind, and he will do anything to get that little bit of recharge time with the one person who he feels he can truly relax with.

So when the 141 gets back from a long, few-month mission on the other side of the globe, as soon as humanly possible, Simon's heading home to be with you. 

The first few days are just spent curled up together. Lazy mornings turning into lazy afternoons with lingering touches and tender kisses. Cooking together in the warmth of your shared kitchen, his big arms wrapped around your waist as his chin rests on the top of your head. Warm meals and lots of storytelling, more so coming from your end, but who wouldn't want to know about how the neighbours got into another fight and might be ending in divorce this time?

After those initial days just gently getting back into the calm civilian life, the two of you are more than happy to adventure out for the day. Treating yourselves to a nice cup of tea and a fresh pastry from a rather fancy cafe in the heart of town and a calm walk by river, hand in hand, the two of you find yourselves in a little corner store as the clouds roll over and little drops start to fall.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Bloody hell love, a little rain won't hurt ya," Simon chuckles as you pull him into a nearby corner store as the droplets of rain start to gain momentum, falling in a more rapid succession.

"Yes, but I did my hair today, and I don't want it to be ruined," you answer with a playful roll of your eyes. The store is much more pleasant than the rain, with a warm glow to the lights and, most importantly, nice and dry. 

Deciding to busy yourselves while the rain rolls over, the two of you go up and down the few isles, pointing out little snacks you want to try or ones you have tried and definitely didn't like. Coming to the end of one of the isles you spot an old photo booth pushed into the corner and excitedly pull on Simon's arm.

"Si, look! Do you think it works?" The whole thing looks like it hasn't been used in a long while, but, taking your chances, you pull the curtain open and the display lights up. 

"Suppose it does, come 'ere," a large hand moves to hold your waist as you're pulled onto Simon's lap, the two of you making a tight fit in the small booth.

With an excited squeal you press a few buttons, pulling a few pound coins from your pocket and inserting them into the machine, a quick preview of the photo format appearing on the screen. Before the two of you can plan what your poses will be, the first timer starts counting down.

""Right, just a smile then?" He says, guiding one of your arms over his shoulders as you lean your head closer, big smile pulling at your lips and a hint of a curl on the Brits. The flash clicks and the photo shows before another timer starts counting down.

"Now a silly one!" You say, holding up bunny ears behind his head as you stick your tongue out, Simon doing quite the similar pose. The timer stops and another flash goes off, both your eyes drawn to the preview of the photo. For a burly military man Simon sure does look a bit silly with the tip of his tongue poking out and your fingers as bunny ears behind him, contrasting his usual hard and gruff facade he put son for the average individual.

"Hey, you copied my idea," A playful shove is given to his shoulder as you look at the photo, chuckles leaving the both of you. "Can't help if it's a good idea," Simons voice grumbles though the smile on his scared lips tells you how happy you make him as he pokes a finger in your ribs, making you laugh.

"Simon!" You giggle, half heartedly pulling away from him, "That tickles!" The Brit doesn't stop his teasing and you try to pull away again that you almost fall off his lap, arms flailing slightly but a hand firmly on your waist ensures you don't go anywhere. In the struggle the timer for the third photo finishes and the flash goes off just as you feel like you're tipping.

As the two of you calm your giggles you see there's only one photo left and you turn to look at Simon, exaggerated disappointment on your face. "Look you ruined the photo," you tease as you point to the screen.

"Wouldn't have been ruined if ya were more original," He chuckles, fingers lightly pinching your thigh as he gazes at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm plenty original, thank you"

The timer counting down for the fourth and final picture snaps you both back as you stumble to figure out one last pose.

"What do you we do for this one?" You ask out loud as you try your hardest to think of a cute pose.

Without more than a little grumble of a 'Come 'ere' Simons free hand reaches up and gently wraps around your neck, pointer finger helping guide your face to his as your lips meet his. All thoughts are almost completely disregarded as you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Just as you begin to part your lips the flash goes off and the machine begins to print the series of photos.

""ere you go, love," Simon grumbles as his hand leaves your warm skin to grab the photos, handing them to you. Hand on your thigh giving you a gently pat before guiding you off his lap and out of the photo booth, grin on his lips the whole time.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Viktor Nikiforov appreciation post: cute reactions to Yuuri skating his FS for the first time in competition

Every time I watch YOI, Viktor's reactions to Yuuri's skating are a source of pure delight. Especially that first time that he watches Yuuri skate his free programme in competition is a hilarious rollercoaster across the emotional spectrum.

Surprise / shock: "That's not the opening combo Yuuri was supposed to jump"

Viktor still has to learn that on the ice, Yuuri does what Yuuri wants and not what his coach wants. That 4T+2T took him off guard and makes him low-key nervous because he has absolutely no idea where this is going to end when his naughty student already starts off with a different combo than he was supposed to jump.

Nervousness: Hiding behind Plush Makkachin (1)

It dawns on Viktor that Yuuri indeed didn't listen to him, so he's bracing himself for disaster to unfold. Yuuri is prone to messing up his jumps and with 8 jumping passes (11 jumps in total), the free programme provides MANY opportunities for Yuuri to mess up. Having a naughty student must be hard for an inexperienced coach. But hiding behind his tissue box won't help, he'll only miss the best parts.

Indignation: "He really didn't want me!"

No Viktor, your pushiness made Yuuri uncomfortable. You don't know that he doesn't remember the banquet. But even if he did, do you really think he would have been happier? Things don't work like that with your nervous katsudon. This is one of those lines where the audio is etched into my brain. Junichi Suwabe really did an amazing job at Viktor expressing indignation. +5 GOE in cuteness.

Concern

When your naughty student who never listens to you and who's prone to messing up tires in the middle of the programme despite being rumoured to have a lot of stamina, that's ample reason to be worried. This is Viktor's first competition as a coach. Although he saw Yuuri skate in practice, he has no idea what to expect because competitions are fairly different from practice.

Joy / pride: "3A clean!"

Ahh, look how excited he is! That's a proud and supportive coach!

Rapture

He's hiding again, but not completely because the beauty of Yuuri's skating enraptures him. It's the first time he's seeing Yuuri skate this programme and giving his all because competitions have stakes. And while the mistakes freak him out, Yuuri making music is what Viktor has been drawn to since that video in which Yuuri copied him went viral. If he only knew that right now Yuuri is making this music for him!

Suspense: Hand down on the 3A+Eu+3S sequence!

That's me when I watch figure skating and my fave makes a mistake. He's just so invested in Yuuri's performance because he cares.

Disappointment: Yuuri probably just got a concussion, but all Viktor thinks about is his score

Regardless of his lack of experience, Viktor is a very supportive coach. But he also has quite of a savage streak. Who's gonna tell him that Yuuri just had a very important realisation? Experienced skaters normally don't jump into the barrier like that.

Positive surprise: "It's me!"

Yes, darling. It has always been you. The whole point of Yuuri's free programme is figuring out his feelings for you and showing you his love.

Figure skaters are expected to perform to the judges. That ending pose, the Eros intro, that move with the hands in Stammi Vicino are supposed to be performed towards the judges. However, except for that one time Yuuri blows the judges a kiss, he always performs towards Viktor. So that's why...

Just don't, babe. Your katsudon just showed you his love. You still have a lot to learn, but that's okay. He loves you anyway.

Originally, I've made this post to appreciate how cute Viktor reacts to Yuuri's skating. But somewhere in the middle, I've realised how much this first competition reveals about Viktor, even this early in his partnership with Yuuri. His reactions prove that he is totally invested in Yuuri's skating and that he deeply cares for Yuuri doing well on the ice, no matter what everyone who wants him to stop coaching claims. He doesn't need experience in coaching to care for Yuuri. Just that he cares from the start is one of the things that make him so precious.

[prostocupoftea]

Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

[leiascully]

A fic I’ve wondered about…Mulder and Scully actually going to a movie together. Mostly because one of them lost a bet and has to go with the other to a movie of their choice. This happens early on in the partnership…Mulder makes Scully go to Jurassic Park. She nit picks the hell out of the science. So he, in a show of attempting to even the balance - he makes out he’s doing her a favour when really he just likes going out anywhere with Scully - he lets her pick the next one. She picks Sleepless in Seattle. The conversation after that one could lead….anywhere 🥰

Hmm, yes, excellent. I hope you wanted 2000 words of silliness because that's what's under the cut.

There’s a tap on her motel door. Scully twitches the curtains aside. It’s Mulder, slouching in jeans and a white t-shirt, looking like someone posed him against the background of lush summer green. She unhitches the chain and lets him in. Sticky-hot air rolls in after him, a humid swirl of honeysuckle and cut grass.

“How’s the report?”

She sighs and takes off her glasses. “The report is finished.” There wasn’t much to report, in the end: small town secrets, black light ghosts. All the evidence was there from the start, but the sheriff’s nephew was never going to be charged unless someone else stepped in. The only surprise was the support he got from the valedictorian, concocting hallucinogens in the high school chemistry lab. Then again, as a former nerdy teen girl, Scully understands the allure of the quarterback. Social cohesion is a powerful force. Maybe even more than broad shoulders, the girl was attracted to the idea of revenge.

Mulder, naturally, was blithely wry about it all. He’ll probably publish some esoteric paper on it in one of those poorly credentialed paranormal journals: the monstrous manifestation of adolescence, or something about the American tendency to manufacture visible hauntings as a way to deal with the invisible buried history of colonized land.

There are worse ways he could spend a Saturday night. At least he’s less likely to end up in the hospital.

“Dinner and a show?” he asks. “Since our flight isn’t until tomorrow morning.”

“In this town?” She crosses her arms, skeptical.

He produces two movie tickets. “Jurassic Park. Have you seen it yet?”

“I was going to go with my friend Ellen this weekend, but….” She shrugs. They’re here instead, chasing ghosts. “I think she went with her new boyfriend.”

“Got a purse?”

She pats around for it and finds it in a chair. “Yes, why?”

His eyes twinkle. “I said dinner and a show, Scully. Do you know how many McDonald’s hamburgers I can fit in a purse?”

“Mulder, no. I like this purse.” She clutches it to her. “Surely chicken nuggets would be easier.”

“You don’t want to be reminded of this night by a waft of eau de pickle every time you reach for your wallet?” Mulder’s grinning at her. She can’t resist him when he’s like this. Maybe it’s the lonely teen girl in her, the echo of jockishness in the set of his shoulders. He chooses her, patting the seat next to him at the metaphorical lunch table. Besides, he’s already bought the tickets.

“You’re carrying the ketchup,” she says, tilting her head back to look up at him. His grin broadens.

The bored teen at the box office lets them in, despite the waft of fry oil from her purse, which bulges with its contraband cargo. Mulder buys two sodas and a box of Junior Mints while she waits. The college girls at the concession stand eye him with a familiar mix of anxiety and intrigue. Scully’s seen it in every small town, and some of the bigger ones. There’s something rarefied around Mulder, an air of old money, maybe, or a New England vowel. He interests people; they resent that. He’s too obviously overeducated, charming in a way people don’t trust. Still, they’re drawn to him.

She leans on the half-wall that separates the concessions area from a couple of arcade machines and the hall that leads to the three theaters. The college girls’ eyes flick to her and then back to Mulder. There’s hair twirling involved as they hand him his change. Scully smiles to herself. Mulder drops the coins into his overstuffed pocket and saunters over to her, oblivious to the glares of the college girls. Scully shows the tickets to the usher, who rips them and points out the door to the middle theater, as if they could get lost.

The theater is mostly full. They pick seats in the middle - harder for the usher to pick them out in the crowd - and wait until the lights go down. Scully wedges her purse between her hip and the armrest. The food is still warm. They take turns dipping in and retrieving a nugget or a few fries. Mulder carefully applies ketchup from the torn corner of a packet before stuffing the fries in his mouth. In the flickering light from the screen, his lips are glossy with grease. It’s odd, feeling the pressure of his hand against her thigh when he roots around inside her purse, but it isn’t unpleasant.

“You know all of this is nonsense,” Scully murmurs as the animated DNA explains how the park’s team re-created the dinosaurs. “Absolute junk science. Even if you could extract genetic material from a sample like that, there’s no reason to believe it would be viable, no matter how many amphibians you spliced into it.”

“I always find a reason to believe,” Mulder whispers to her. “Come on, Scully, give in to the movie magic. It’s called science fiction, not science plausible.”

“Shhh!” says someone behind them.

Scully subsides until she can no longer contain herself. Mulder, recognizing her mood without looking, tilts his ear closer so that she can whisper to him. They get shushed again, and then again, derailing her sotto voce tirades about parthenogenesis and the feasibility of a theme park based around dinosaur habitats.

“Your wife has a lot to say!” Mulder’s neighbor tells him. It’s clearly intended to be a reprimand. Mulder pretends it’s a compliment. Scully subsides, chastised and defensive. If she doesn’t think too hard about it, the movie is entertaining. And if her knee presses into Mulder’s as the T. rex stomps toward the Jeep, neither of them acknowledges it.

They wait through the credits after the movie, letting the locals trickle out. The glares Scully is fielding now are different from the ones she got at the concession stand. She lifts her chin, defiant. Mulder stuffs their McDonald’s trash into their empty soda cups, concealing the evidence.

“I can’t believe you didn’t enjoy that,” Mulder says as they walk back toward the motel. The evening air is dotted with fireflies. A breeze rustles the leaves and pushes her hair over her forehead.

“I didn’t not enjoy it,” Scully tells him. “It just didn’t seem feasible.”

“Doctor Sattler reminded me of you,” Mulder says. He pushes his hands into his pockets. “Woman inherits the earth.”

“If only we could reproduce so easily on our own.” Scully cuts her eyes at Mulder. “You know, you remind me of Doctor Malcolm.”

“Why, Doctor Scully, I didn’t know you had a thing for bad boys.” She shoves at his arm with her shoulder and he chuckles. “What about me reminds you of him? Because I’m tall, dark, and handsome?”

She rolls her eyes. “Mostly it’s your love of chaos.”

“Mostly?”

“Mostly.” She smiles at him.

“So there’s a chance you think I’m irresistibly suave.” His voice is as velvety as the humid air.

“There’s a chance of a lot of things, Mulder.” She looks up at the night sky and savors the bitter freshness of the last Junior Mint. “Even dinosaurs.”

A few weeks later, they’re on the Texas coast, drafted into an anti-smuggling operation. There’s nothing supernatural about it - more than anything, they’re warm bodies in Kevlar vests. Scully doesn’t mind. Sometimes it’s satisfying to work on these task forces. There’s a clear resolution to cases like these: so many guns seized, so many tons of cocaine destroyed, so much cash pulled out of hidden stashes. It’s clear-cut who the bad guys are, and she doesn’t have to write the reports.

“Dinner and a show?” she says to Mulder as the other agents eddy around them. They’re rarely invited along to drinks when they’re assigned to these things, but she doesn’t necessarily enjoy being the only woman in the group anyway.

“Anything with air conditioning,” he says.

They eat at a seafood restaurant that’s nearly a shack. The seafood boil comes in plastic bags they have to rip open. It’s some of the best shrimp Scully has ever had, and the corn on the cob is as sweet and blisteringly hot as the last days of summer. She licks butter off her fingers and watches Mulder crack crab claws.

The theater here is bigger: eight screens instead of three. Scully buys two tickets for Sleepless in Seattle and presents them to Mulder. He raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t know if I took you for the rom-com type, Scully.”

“I don’t want to get shushed again.” She gives him a sideways glance. “At least we all agree this is going to be unrealistic.”

Mulder sighs and shakes his head. “So beautiful. So cynical.” Before she can figure out how to respond to that, he’s off to the concession stand again, this time returning with Dots wedged into one back pocket and Sno-Caps in the other. He hands her a soda as they go in the theater. The sides of the cup are already faintly damp with condensation. The theater itself is like an icebox, air conditioning whistling.

They sit in the back row this time, near a bunch of teenagers who already have their arms slung against each other. Mulder rolls his eyes, but there’s a nostalgic smile on his face. Scully wonders how many girls he sat in dark theaters with, focused on something other than the movie. He cups her hand and shakes Sno-Caps into her palm. She eats them one by one. They aren’t shushed this time. She almost misses the excuse to lean against him. By the time the movie is over, her feet are tingling with cold. Pushing out the doors into the muggy air is almost a relief.

“Hit me with your best shot, Scully.” Mulder takes her cup to toss it into the trash. “I assume I don’t remind you of lovable widower Tom Hanks.”

“I don’t know why she left Walter,” Scully says. “It seemed cruel. All because her life wasn’t like a movie?”

Mulder scoffs. “You wouldn’t stay with a guy like that.”

“A guy with allergies?”

“A guy who didn’t excite you,” Mulder says. “You wouldn’t settle for safe.”

Scully tips her face to look up at him. “Wouldn’t I?”

Mulder spreads his hands. “Picket fence, 9 to 5, 2.5 kids and Sunday dinner with the family - you like the sound of it, but you’d get bored. Face it, Scully, you’re a creature of the night now. You’ve got that wild urge in your soul. You’d be baying at the moon if you were stuck in that kind of life.”

“And lovable widower Tom Hanks would provide that?”

“No,” he says. “Ian Malcolm might, though.”

She rolls her eyes. “And how much do you charge for this astute psychoanalysis, Doctor Mulder?”

He taps his lower lip with one finger and scans around them. “Two scoops of mint chocolate chip.” He points to the glowing sign down the street depicting an anthropomorphic ice cream creature. Locals are clustered in groups around a walk-up window like moths around a lamp, sipping at floats and licking drippy cones.

Scully feels a rush of nostalgia for the summers of her youth. The salt air, the long twilight: she can’t help remembering. It’s a sweet little ache under her sternum, and it gets sharper when she looks at Mulder. He’s clearly pleased with himself. “I think I can swing that, as long as you’re not angling for a banana split.”

“What about one malt with two straws?” He winks at her.

“Don’t push your luck,” she grumbles.

But she thinks about it as the moon hangs heavy overhead, and she’s glad she can blame her flushed cheeks on the heat.

[tickly-trashcan]

Chase {Gwen and Miles}

“Gwen, give it back!” Miles begged. He made a grab for his sketchbook, but Gwen simply twirled around him and continued to flip through the pages.

“I haven’t seen your art in forever, I missed it! You’ve really improved with your… What is it called? The hypothesis of color?”

“Color theory, and yes, I’ve improved because it’s been so long, but can I please have it back??”

Gwen only chuckled, pulling herself to the ceiling with a web when Miles tried to grab the sketchbook again. She sat down criss-cross on the ceiling, turning a few more pages before she stopped. Miles groaned.

“Huh…”

While Gwen was distracted, Miles jumped up to the ceiling and went to snatch his sketchbook back again, but Gwen rolled back out of the way and walked down the wall toward the window of his room. She sat down again on the windowsill while Miles began to spew frantic explanations for his drawings.

“Listen, I missed you, and you’re really– your facial structure is very unique! It was also good anatomy practice since you do so many of those yoga-ish poses, y’know? And…” Miles sighed, knowing he wasn’t helping his case. “And I look up to you… You’re my muse.”

“I’m your muse?” Gwen pondered back aloud. She still did not look away from the sketchbook, turning the page again and tracing the paper gently.

Miles nodded and walked down the wall. He made one more grab for the sketchbook, but Gwen held it above and behind her, out of Miles’s reach. She looked at him with wide eyes and then smiled. With the sketchbook open, she smiled just like the first time that he met her as Spider-Gwen in the birch forest, which Miles had drawn on the open page.

“You’ve had your fun, now can I have it back?”

“I want to keep one.”

“Wha– No,” Miles protested, reaching for the sketchbook again while Gwen tried to keep it far enough out of reach, which was proving difficult with Miles’s newfound height.

“Gwen,” Miles said in an exasperated voice. He began to pout and elbowed Gwen’s side gently instead. “Pick what you want.”

Gwen flinched lightly at the jab, which Miles noticed, but she began to flip through the drawings again regardless. Miles raised an eyebrow, but Gwen seemed not to notice as she leafed through the pages. Miles went to poke her and Gwen jumped as soon as his finger made contact with her ribs.

They stared at each other with wide eyes before Miles smirked.

“Miles, don’t you dare,” Gwen started, a nervous smile growing on her face.

Miles did not listen to Gwen and pounced, both of them falling off the windowsill onto the floor of Miles’s room. He began to scribble at her ribs and Gwen began to squeal and giggle while she curled up.

“Miles! Miles, dohohon’t! Plehehease!”

“I just had to chase you halfway around my room for my sketchbook! I think this is a perfectly adequate way to make up for it!”

“I’m sohohorry! I just wahahanted to see your ahahart!”

Miles rolled his eyes and pinched at her sides. She whined and laughed, making a few attempts to push Miles away. He did not tickle her for long and let up after her cheeks began to flush red. He then reached for his sketchbook and tucked it under his arm with a triumphant huff.

As Gwen caught her breath, Miles helped her up and they took a seat on the windowsill again. Miles rubbed the back of his neck in mild embarrassment and then opened up his sketchbook to a blank page. He leaned over and grabbed a pencil from his nearby desk before propping his sketchbook on his knee. He smiled sheepishly.

“How about I draw you right now and you can keep that instead? I’m kind of attached to my other drawings…” Miles said as he clicked the mechanical pencil.

Gwen nodded with a small smile. “I’d like that.”

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

you know, i like hordak as a character. he's interesting, he's likeable, he's a good example of an abuse victim who isn't overly infantilized and coddled by the narrative. his relationship with entrapta was cute, his relationship with horde prime was tragic and i like that he at least gets a proper confrontation with his abuser, where he is able to declare his own independence and get some closure from his trauma.

however, there are two main problems i have with his character (some of which i've already talked about but i want to go into more detail):

1. hordak was not an effective villain. heck, he was barely a villain at all.

you cannot tell me that hordak was the main villain of the first four seasons when the majority of his screentime was spent with him either lurking in his sanctum or canoodling with entrapta.. in his sanctum.

at first i thought that hordak was going to be this looming presence that had control over everything and puppeted everyone's every move, and was this evil masterpiece who orchestrated everything behind the scenes but.. nah. turns out he's just an incompetent manchild who needs a literal teenager with no battle experience to plan everything out for him. how did he conquer half of etheria before that? who knows? not important.

hordak also has no meaningful relationship with adora, the hero. there were actually a lot of parallels that could be drawn from hordak and adora both being raised by abusers who valued perfection over everything else. granted, in that aspect, hordak is more like catra but there isn't even that many parallels with him and catra. there are, in fact, more parallels with catra and shadow weaver or catra and horde prime.

and okay, not every hero and villain needs a deep intertwined relationship or complex narrative parallels. but at least give us something? a proper interaction?? the show even acknowledges the fact that hordak and adora have absolutely no connection with each other, when adora asks him why he kidnapped her and he basically replies with "lol who are you again". and then he just randomly remembers her at the end of the finale and it’s supposed to be this touching, emotional scene except you feel nothing because these characters literally never interacted, what are we looking at?

adora is supposed to be fighting the horde, but it seemed like she was just fighting catra most of the time. as the hero who opposes etheria's oppressors, shouldn't adora mainly be targeting hordak, the person who started it all? and shouldn't hordak, as the leader of the horde, be more concerned about the rebellion having an actual god on their side? i guess it doesn't really matter if said god can be easily defeated by a inexperienced catgirl

it just feels like hordak didn't have to be a villain at all. we only know he does horrifying things, because the narrative says that he does. oh, and he tortures catra once and sends her to crimson waste, so i guess that qualifies as being a villain.

the point of a villain is to drive the central conflict of the story. to oppose the hero and to pose an actual threat to the status quo. any character who doesn't do this is merely an antagonist. in hordak's case, i don't even know if he counts as an antagonist. he's like that one edgy antihero with a dark past where he murdered countless people but it doesn't really matter in present time. it’s just there to add flavor and to enhance his tragic past, because war is obviously a fictional fantasy trope and totally not something that has happened in real life. /s

2. like many other characters in this show, hordak's character almost completely revolves around his love interest.

yes, entrapta taking care of hordak and boosting his self-esteem is endearing. yes, hordak breaking his defenses and being vulnerable around entrapta is very sweet. but apart from entrapta, the only characters who have any kind of effect on hordak is horde prime and catra. and.. i guess, imp? but again, imp is mostly just a stand-in for the cute animal sidekick.

i know that hordak was supposed to be a recluse but it's impossible to believe that this kind of person was able to start an army and feed them with false propaganda. again, if you read my post about cults and their methods of indoctrination, you would know that cult leaders are often very charismatic and friendly people. and i know the horde isn't exactly a cult but we are supposed to believe that at least some of the cadets raised there genuinely believed that they were on the side of good, when their leader was a mysterious shut-in who basically didn't do anything substantial and their mentor/superior officer was just actively radiating Evil Vibes™.

i just wish they did more with hordak’s character and actually made him interact with some of the other characters. he doesn’t even interact with shadow weaver that much, and she was his second-in-command. even if it’s not direct interactions, it would have been interesting to see the characters mention hordak more, especially the ex-horde soldiers. apart from the general “oh no he’s evil and wants to kill everyone”, that is.

like we see people talking about shadow weaver. we see adora open up about her relationship with shadow weaver and ponder about whether there’s some good left in the woman who raised her. we see glimmer talking about how powerful shadow weaver is and how she could help the rebellion. we see catra complaining about how shadow weaver treated her in comparison to adora. we see angella talk about how shadow weaver shouldn’t be trusted.

when you think about it, shadow weaver was much more of a looming menacing presence in spop, despite not even being a villain, let alone the main villain.

even when she was on the good side and helping the princesses, there was always a ceaseless feeling of unease and fear, because we’ve seen what she’s capable of. we weren’t just told that “shadow weaver is sooo abusive, she’s bad!” we see how she treats adora and catra, we see how she manipulates situations and people for her own benefit, we see how she slowly starts to get into glimmer’s head. the show actually does a good job with shadow weaver, and i have to give credit where credit is due. shadow weaver was genuinely a well-written character.

hordak is just.. there, most of the time. he acts evil enough to be considered as one of the villains but he’s not actually a villain if you consider it for more than five seconds. he doesn’t really do anything for the bulk of the narrative, he has one kinda cool scene where he stands up to his abuser and then he just peaces out with entrapta.

i don’t really understand the point of taking a main villain of the show and turning him into this. sure, the OG hordak was more of a comedic villain and wasn’t super complex, but from what i know, he still played an important role in a narrative and his humorous moments made up for the lack of a tragic backstory.

[evaskjew]

I'm trying something for fandom artists/writers

Well, as I don't have anyone to tag (I'm really the least sociable person in the world and I'm too scared to talk to people in the fandom 😂), it's up to those who see this post to participate or not (if it turns out that it's not going to take at all, but never mind!)

Well, as my thing is drawing, I'll go with that (but you can adapt it to writing for those who write, or anything else for that matter!)

Last drawing:

Favourite drawing:

Well, I'm cheating, I'm putting two in because I can't choose 😖 On the one hand it's my best pastel drawing (to say it's also my second realistic portrait in colour) and on the other the painting I did with my grandmother and it's also the first time I've done anything other than a portrait in realistic drawing with a background and so on.

Hated drawing:

Right, then. Here again it's hard to put just one. I'm VERY hard on myself and I hate almost all my drawings 🥲 But really, if I have to choose, there are three that I really can't see any more because I find them so horrible.

Future project(s):

Following the poll, I'm going to start working on a new portrait of Garreth.

Next up, why not draw Ominis again (I've taken several in-game screenshots of him that I'd like to do to work on the backgrounds) and I'd also like to draw characters I haven't drawn yet, like Natsai or Amit.

And maybe one day, when I'm bored because I can't find any more images to use as models, I might draw some MCs from in-game screenshots.

And apart from drawing, I'd like to finish writing my OS by the end of the year 😂

Favourite artist:

There are far too many talented people in fandom ❤️

But without hesitation I'd say @tamayula-hl! Long before I dared to post my drawings online, I admired her work so much and even today I jump on every notification as soon as she posts! I know I'll never reach her level but her work is a source of inspiration and motivation (even more so now that I've switched to watercolour and I'm still trying to figure out how to work with colours, the way she works with colour is so incredible 🥰)

And I can't thank her enough for her post showing all the possible angles for Ominis' and Sebastian's hairs, it was so helpful 🙏🏻

And I admire @choccy-milky too! These are the two fandom artists I've been following since I started on Tumblr a little over a year ago 😄

One or few points on which I would like to improve:

First of all, I've managed to stop transferring the outlines of my drawings. Yes, it's a bit cheating to transfer, I know. But if I don't do it, the proportions are going to be catastrophic and that's going to piss me off (long live my perfectionism) and I'm going to stop and stubborn as I am coupled with my lack of self-confidence, I'm never going to want to draw again. So for the time being, we're going to keep tracing 😅 We'll see what happens in time.

But most of all, I'd like to stop depending on images I find on Pinterest or Tumblr and just reproduce them as drawings. I'm incapable of doing anything other than faithfully reproducing an image 😢 It annoys me, because I'd also like to post lots of drawings of my MC Evangeline interacting with other characters 😞 And the worst thing is the difference in my drawing level when I do something that doesn't depend on a reference image! (the proof: my drawings of Evangeline and this drawing of Ominis)

I took it upon myself while writing this post and forced myself to do a drawing of Evangeline in 20 minutes without a model (I just traced a neutral pose from a drawing dummy to have my base and improvised from my watercolour of Evangeline for her outfit).

You be the judge:

The end of her leg and her shoe is a disaster 😭

Well, that's that. I don't know how it's going to turn out and whether any artists/writers are going to take part, but it was a fun post to make!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I must be getting ready for spooky season early because all damn day, all I've been thinking obsessively about Steve with an honest-to-god fetish for vampires.

It's just this fixation that he's had his whole conscious life. It's what he can't get away from. Every time he's alone with his fist around his dick, no matter what started him down that path, whatever brought him there, it always, always ends up with vampires, no matter how unrelated it seems from the original thought.

There's, just, something about vampires. Okay, fine, it's everything about them. The teeth, the danger, the vulnerability, the risk, the reward, and the taboo, yet, also the mystery. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. It ignites Steve. He can hardly think about vampires or hear them mentioned in passing without quivering. He can't escape his ever-present wants.

His needs.

So, when he's turns 21, the first thing he does isn't shoot too much fruity alcohol for a few hours, then spend the rest of his night regretting it in a tiny bathroom stall, the whole world spinning, but instead, the his first 21+ act is walking into a blood bar.

He's not had anything alcoholic to drink, rather he's sipping on a drink, leaning against the counter, not even bothering to snag a seat because he doesn't plan on waiting long enough to get comfortable. He's waited this long already. He doesn't want to waste another minute. The first vampire that approaches him, he's gonna say fuck. yes. He's so ready to have his first experience.

Portrying such casual energy with a pose like that, dressed in nothing special, just any old clothes that he wouldn't be out of place wearing in the middle of the street on a regular day, sipping from a glass, Bucky sees him and thinks he might be a regular that he's somehow missed every time he's come in to this establishment before. But... the second Bucky gets near him, drawn to him inexplicably, Bucky understands the ruse.

It's only a skin deep mirage.

Interesting.

And Bucky knows so because even without his enhanced, inhuman senses, Bucky suspects he'd be able to hear the jackrabbit-fast hammering of his heart. Hell, he'd probably be able to feel the nervousness rolling off of him in waves, too. He doesn't need to have so, so many years of life experience and heightened sense to know that--

Oh, he's new.

Bucky can feel his fangs as a delicious pressure in his mouth where they're aching to drop. His stomach rumbles, just as eager. He wants to feed.

And he wants this one.

The newcomer is everything Bucky wants, big and muscular but so clearly sweet, biting his lip, trying and failing to hide how nervous and excited he is, leaning back and hiding behind his drink while his eyes dart around the room, trying to discern who's human and who isn't. He's so laughably, plainly, obviously ready to melt under expert touch.

He's in luck.

Bucky swoops in, settling next to him (on a bar stool, thank you very much), and soon...

Steve is squirming faintly--trying to restrain himself to make this as easy as possible and failing because he's that much of an eager, sweet thing and it feels that good--beneath the teeth of Bucky.

Soon, Steve is going from pink and feverish with want, finally on the cusp of getting what he's desired all his life so badly, to pale and shaking, moaning no less than a man being pleasured by a hot body wrapped tightly around his cock as Bucky feeds from him. His hands started out digging into Bucky's arms, holding him there, not wanting this opportunity to experience this fantasy to slip away, but now his grip is getting a little weaker. His body is slouching down where Bucky has him pressed against the high, sturdy wooden bar. And pure ecstasy bleeds across Steve's face, tainting his expression into a beautiful, fucked up thing that just makes Bucky crave more from him.

Yet, when Bucky pulls away with just a little less than his fill, being careful with this eager, sweet creature, Steve whimpers.

His hands paw uncoordinatedly at Bucky, trying to grab him and pull him back for a second taste. He can't, though, not when his brain has so clearly been drained from his skull, out through his ears and nose, leaving him empty-headed and pathetic, hazily clamoring for more pleasure like a junkie falling from a high. More. Please.

Instantly, in a terribly hot flash, Bucky thinks, oh, this one is gonna be fun. He's asking for trouble. Begging, really, making noises and faces like that.

Bucky already craves more of the way he tastes. There's always a heady, intoxicating undercurrent to those that enjoy the special delight of being prey, and Steve has the sweetest cocktail Bucky's ever tasted. Right there in his veins, thrumming hot and thick. He likes it bad.

And, hmm, it seems like they're both in luck here. Aren't they?

This will be trouble. It already is.

[bluevaractyl]

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

Hi Skye!! I don't have enough art or writing to do five, so I'll do some of each.

Burning Skies: My first (and so far only) multichapter fic, in which I am very mean to Sky, the boys go dungeon crawling, and hugs are had. It has a lot in common with your Elastic Heart, I think. I took advantage of the setting and played with the Chain's items and monsters. Bouncing between perspectives was so much fun, and having people comment as I posted each chapter was incredibly rewarding. Zola drew some amazing art for it.

Courage comes in many forms: This is the silliest thing I have ever written. AoL Link learns the Cucco spell, with a bonus bit of LU at the end. Very short and good for a giggle. Zola also did art for this one.

Deterioration: For the ultimate whiplash, here is the angstiest, whumpiest thing I have ever written. I really don't know why it's on this list, but I only have six published fics to choose from, so here it is. I'm gonna preface it by saying that it's the result of me going, "Aren't you glad healthcare workers are so caring?" and my dumb angsty brain going, "Yeah, what if they weren't?" and running with it. Also me thinking too hard about how [spoiler] came to be. Hyrule becomes an unwilling test subject and has a terrible week. Someone get this boy a snack and hugs STAT.

Yes you've seen this before, but it's probably my best work. The Yiga from Dad Squad come for Sky Link and are unprepared to face the fury of a protective loftwing. I am still really proud of the pose and colors on the loftwing, and I still giggle at the Yiga. Link is blissfully unaware😌

And finally, the art I drew inspired by your Fluffvember snippet. You've seen this one too haha. Seeing it always makes me think of that fic and brings that same feeling of calm I felt that first time reading it. It's nice to know that I can draw fluff even though I apparently can't write it😅

I've drawn many things since these two, but none I've been so happy with. I guess you're my muse :3

[danjaley]

Storytelling ask game:

8, 17, 20, 25 :3

Thank You!

8: What about your story are you proud of?

Whenever I read a book set in 18th century Britain and there is something similar to how I did it in my story, that's kinda magic. Yes, I did these things right by accident, but it still makes me proud. I guess being a historian helps, but I made it a rule not to mix up free-time and work and go overboard researching for the McCarrics.

17: What about the process do you hate?

I'm struggling with one of those points right now: When I write, I think in terms of the real world, not Sims worlds. So I wrote they'll organize a crossing in Le Havre and then they're in Portsmouth, and then in London. And when I get there, I realize I need to find Sims worlds to stage this in. And there aren't very many 18th century city worlds. Not to mention that I have to set up a new save every time...

20: Choose your favourite shot from your story so far

The moment of perfect bliss between Andrew and Fergus. I love everyone's expressions in this one. And it's always a special challenge to find good poses for teenagers.

25: What inspirations have you drawn on for your story?

The first inspiration were the Scottish novels by Frances Hodgeson Burnett. By now there are so many! A lot of inspiration comes from my research, and I'm excited as we get closer to the times and events I really know a lot about.

[daswarschonkaputt]

[surfaces from the deep with art in tow]

'tis i, the purveyor of fem!kinnporsche lookbooks, this time bearing kimchay. if you missed the kinnporsche one it's here. if you didn't, you know the drill, thoughts and refs beneath the cut.

okay let's start with kim:

i'm gonna be real with you folks: i struggled hard with fem!kim. in my head, kim much like fem!kinn is someone who uses her clothes to send messages, but where kinn is trying to communicate power and authority, kim is instead using her clothes to adopt different personas or elements of her personality. and so, i can see fem!kim wearing nearly everything, basically.

kimlor swift aka wik aka internet popstar kim

so, return customers may notice something odd about kim: i gave her different poses for each of her personas. why? i think kim is someone who embodies a lot of different personas, and i think the change is more than skin deep.

this was very much the first set i drew. the brief for these outfits in my head was something like "k-pop kim possible". also a lot of these were drawn when i still had covid lmao so i barely remember most of it.

it was very important to me that kim had a wolf cut. that fact came to me the moment i started thinking about fem!kim. so. you know. you're welcome.

runing errands (first outfit) - this one was the first outfit i drew for kim, and it was mostly summoned up from my own head. i spent a lot of time scrolling through pinterest before i started drawing. in my head, this is sort of what she wears when she's out and about as wik but not like, performing or whatever. still a very crafted image, but a little more casual than her performance gear.

performance (second outfit) - this one does have a ref! i found this image on pinterest and was like yes. this one. i thought long and hard about what i wanted wik's fashion and persona to be, because i debated going along the family friendly singer-songstress route, but in the end i figured she had to be cool and a little edgy. hence [gestures at the clothes].

award show/red carpet (third outfit) - this one's kind of fun. longtime listeners will recall that i started drawing these lookbooks bc @mortimerlatrice told me they didn't think fem!kinn would wear dresses and i had to disprove them -- so i thought it'd be fun if for kim, she only wore dresses when on mafia business. kim in a dress is a blaring warning signal that you're gonna get your shit rocked. so, kim's award show look is a pantsuit. she doesn't wear dresses at all as wik. there was definitely a reference image for this one, but i drew the entirety of this first set when i had covid, so i don't think i saved it OTL

detective wikachu aka mafia kim

another fun detail you might notice about mafia!kim -- she's always got her hair up. that was also deliberate. also holy shit this set killed me so bad. we'll get there.

running errands (detective errands) (first outfit) - this is what kim wears when she's gotta blackmail randos for info. fairly casual, all things told, but very different in vibe to her wik stuf. also the pattern on that suit is incredibly simple but it took me 45 mins to create bc i still had covid brainfog at this point. the reference for this look was celine's spring/summer 2021 rtw collection look 24.

visiting dad (to snoop) (second outfit) - another source of debate for me. what, exactly, does kim send as a message to her father when she comes back home? i played with the idea of her wearing a sort of perfectly pretty mafia princess disguise, but i don't think that's what she'd use to get on her father's good side. so, she's wearing a dress (fuck your shit up vibes for her) but it's got a strong vibe to it. so, i had to go with alexander mcqueen, which is one of my favourite designers. this one is specifically alexander mcqueen pre-fall 2022 look 17.

at a gala (mafia-flavoured) also to snoop (third outfit) - oh my god you guys will not believe how many of these i went through. i even fully drew another option before discarding it completely. (originally, i was going to go with erdem pre-fall 2023 look 8 which i drafted here but i just didn't vibe with it the more i worked on it. i guess it felt a little too princessy? so i pivoted.) this one is from another of those designers i actually really like, zuhair murad. this one's from fall 2022 couture, specifically look 38. very much love at first sight. the moment i saw it, i knew i was gonna draw it. and oh boy did drawing it make me suffer. that bead pattern on the dress? killed me. actually killed me. fucking OW. worth it though.

family portrait (fourth outfit) - after all the suffering of kim's formal look this one was comparatively a breeze. found a pic on pinterest, and whoosh i went drawing. the reference is here.

chay!kim

this set is very much what it says on the tin, the clothes kim wears around chay. let's go.

guitar tutoring (first outfit) - okay so in my head the brief for this one was "what kim thinks chay thinks wik wears on her downtime", which very much sets the tone for the entire outfit. i just think it's fun if kim twists herself out of sorts with how clever she is and then chay just bulldozes straight through that. i don't actually have a reference for this one. just drew it.

rescue chay (second outfit) - this is what kim wears to go save chay from the tawan kidnapping. i dubbed this one "when you got library study session at 9, rescue bae at 12, and cyberpunk revolution at 3". the loose inspo for this one was this dress on pinterest which i tracked to the brand ganni and then found they no longer made.

say no to drugs, chay (third outfit) - okay so i wanted this outfit to be like. a wake up call to chay. the first time chay sees kim in a skirt, and the first time chay realises that maybe kim is a little dangerous. it's alexander mcqueen (ofc it is) and actually in the time between me drawing this and posting it, someone actually wore the skirt from this look on the red carpet. it's the spring 2023 rtw collection, look 24. salma hayek wore the skirt to the 2023 brits here.

the youtuber apology video fit (fourth outfit) - the brief here was "kim forcibly bolting on hinges". the idea was to kind of soften her mafia edges but leave the cornerstones of how she dresses for that very much there. so, dress, hair up, but much more relaxed. this outfit is from tommy hilfiger's spring 2023 rtw collection, specifically look 17.

onto chay:

chay was really hard to start with, i'm going to be real. i think the sum total for my notes when i started was just one word: dungarees? as i drew more of her i started to think of her as someone who thrifts and then alters a lot of her clothes. i wanted colour and patterns, and i suffered for them. by god did i suffer.

a few lil headcanons i have about her:

i think chay probably finds it easy to be considered cute and hard to move out of that box. i think there's a part of chay that wants to be sexy the way porsche is (ESPECIALLY if this is a fem!porsche universe) but doesn't know how to go about trying to achieve that. she had to ask yok how to teach her how to apply eyeliner bc porsche doesn't know how to and doesn't care to learn.

i think the role of like, female role model/influence in chay's life is later taken up by fem!kinn, who is full of the kind of advice porsche would be horrified to hear given to her precious baby sister.

chay has short hair because when she had long hair porsche was obsessed with getting her the right shampoos and conditioners and stuff to take care of it (probs based on some internalised stuff from when porsche was at school and girls would mock her for her split ends) so chay just puts a stop to that by cutting all her hair off and it turns out she kind of likes it? so she keeps it.

casual outfits

i drew all these patterns myself. from scratch. you're welcome.

green dungarees (first outfit) - the reference image is here. this was the first look i drew and also the moment i realised how stupid i was to choose a "fun" foot pose for chay. this caused no end of suffering going forward.

orange dungarees (second outfit) - ref here. here i started to regret the pattern aspect of my chay design. also those messy canvas ankle boots killed me to draw. they were so hard.

sweater vest (third outfit) = MORE FUCKING PATTERNS. i also had a reference for this one somwhere but i was drawing this whilst playing dnd so i think it just got lost.

special outfits

school uniform (first outfit) - i did a bit of looking into school uniforms in thailand and from what i can tell they basically all look very similar. idk if the lilac shirt + navy skirt combo is standardised for girls but it was pretty much all i found when i went looking. also she has a long skirt because when she and porsche bought it for her, they bought a really big one that she could wear all through school.

one (1) smart dress (second outfit) - the idea here is that this is the one smart item of clothing that chay has, and it's the one-size-fits-all-occasions dress. it's dark so it can be worn to funerals. it's somewhere between business and formal so it can be worn to both those kinds of occasions. it was based on this dress i found on pinterest.

going to a concert with friends (third outfit) - i... just wanted to put chay in a bucket hat? yeah that's all i have. no ref. just my mind.

porsche's first paycheque present (fourth outfit) - the idea here was that after getting some money from the whole mafia thing, porsche buys this as a present for chay. maybe it's a dress chay's always looked at when they walk past it in a shop window? this is a slight tweak on this dress by alaia. the original's like £2k which i cannot picture porsche and chay spending on a dress but shhh it's fine.

post-kim

these are the outfits from after the whole kim debacle goes down. i just really wanted to draw goth chay. and really, who wouldn't?

break-up era #1 (first outfit) - at this point i was just having way too much fun. the pattern took for-fucking-ever on the skirt though, because i thought i'd just cheekily re-use the dungaree flower pattern with colour changes but oh no that didn't work at all. i had to edit it so much. the reference is here. here her hair is freshly dyed blue, and she's given herself a little heartbreak undercut. you go girl.

say no to drugs chay (second outfit) - this is what chay is wearing when kim points at that rando in the club who offers chay drugs. you see all of the goth reference images i was finding were just too clean-cut and employable, you know? so torn fishnets it was. the refence i found for this is here but i changed it up bc i couldn't see chay wearing a little nightdress to go clubbing no matter how heartbroken she was.

visiting mum (third outfit) - in this one, in my head, chay has dyed her hair back to normal, but she's still got the undercut, so she straightens her hair and pins a little of it over the short bit to try and appear a little more normal chay to her mum. very simple outfit, no refs.

family portrait (fourth outfit) - there's a part of me which delights in this implied scenario because i just think it's funny if chay and kim are posing for a family portrait with kinnporsche and chay's ready to ignore the fuck out of kim and pretend like she doesn't care about her staring but then kim is in full-hide-any-weakenesses mode because korn's there so now chay's the one staring. relationship status: it's very awkward. anyway fashion wise i wanted two things from chay's outfit: for it to be simpler than any of the theerapanyakuls' and for it to be in a lighter shade of porsche's colour (blue). the reference was this cool dress i found on pinterest.

[exhales] is that everything? i think that's everything. obligatory tag for @yeetlegay bc i know they like to see the fem!kinnporsche content.

big shoutout to mort (tagged earlier), @antique-forvalaka, @luckydragon10, and @dr-lemurr for art troubleshooting and cheerleading duties.

everything was drawn in clip studio paint, which i cannot recommend enough. if you want more detailed info abt that side of things, send me an ask.

[thefallenangelsgang]

As always, only half finished and kinda edited (as most of my bg3 writing is)

This is the Weave Lesson scene. I'm playing with using game dialogue and my own for kinda the first time for this maybe fic. I can't tell how it's going quite yet.

the only context you need for this scene is Gale spends his evenings practicing his spellbook in early levels and he gets frustrated at the pace he's crawling at. I have a fragment of this earlier in this scene where he slams his book onto his alchemy table (cause my game Gale was our potion brewer extraordinaire) and Wynleth hears glass breaking. its a passing mention in this.

(EDIT: there is something else. Wynleth describes being percieved directly by Lathander. This is a reference to her encounter with the god during her Paladin vows. I haven't ironed it out but the gist is she has spoken directly with the god once before)

I'm gonna also try a new way of formatting these posts.

------------------------------

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Gale huffs and runs his hands through his hair. I can see the mental battle he’s losing behind his eyes. Eventually he gives in.

“I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. It’s like music, poetry, physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses. Mastering it felt as natural as breathing air. So losing it now feels like another kick in a series of blows to my ego. I suppose that was half of it.” He brings up that projection again. “She meant to bring low again, to humble me.” 

Absent-mindedly, he begins to play with his earring and exactly who is hovering above his palm dawns on me like a crashing wave. 

“Mystra?” 

He nods an affirmative while gazing wistfully up at the goddess that spurned him. 

I don’t know what to say. 

“Her idols don’t do her justice.” The words leave my lips before I really think about them. It’s true though, they don’t. The ones I’ve seen depict a sensual woman, clothing and hair animated by the very Weave she commands. Sharp features and languid poses that reek of the male gaze and look nothing like how Gale presents her now. It’s almost shocking how simply he paints her. She could be just another beauty walking the streets of Baldur’s Gate. “They truly don’t,” Gale whispers back.

“I’m ashamed to admit, the way you speak of the Weave makes me almost jealous. It seems so infinite.” Poetry and music and beauty. He truly has a way with words if he can make me crave something when my magic feels like the kiss of sunlight after a dark winter. 

The light comes back in his eyes as I shift the conversation. “Divine power must feel almost… limiting in comparison. Being only allowed as much as your deity sees fit.” Mystra’s visage is gone again, momentarily forgotten for the time being. The “More than you know,” dies swiftly on my tongue. He does know and that is the problem.

He gets an idea. I can tell by the look in his eye and the mischievous smile on his face as he pushes up to rest on his elbow. “Would you like to learn?”

What?

“You could teach me?”

He’s actually grinning now which makes me feel better. He’s not hung up on all this bullshit that’s going on. “Oh yes. Here-” He shifts into a seated position and takes my hands. Together we stand and move to the open space in front of his tent. I can't help but laugh softly at how serious he looks as he positions me and motions for me to stay put.

He turns away and makes for the table he has set up for his alchemical pursuits to retrieve his spellbook, snapping away the beaker I heard fall earlier. Prestidigitation. Perhaps that’s what he’ll teach me. I’ve heard it's a very useful spell with many applications, quick clean up being one of them.

He thumbs through the tome until he finds what he’s looking for based on the way his face settles in a self-satisfied expression. “This is a simple spell for channeling the Weave. See here-” He says as he positions himself just behind me and runs his finger over the sigil drawn on the page.

It’s brain-bendingly complex for a “simple spell.” Even the most complex healing sigils or anointments I had to learn were markedly less intricate. But it’s beautiful the way the lines curl and intersect. 

“It is, isn't it?” 

I must have said it out loud. Gale’s eyes are shining, they're so bright. He truly loves this. “Could you explain this to me, what all of this means?” I say, running my finger across the same path he did. There seems to be a start and end to the figure that the movement traces.

He launches into an explanation I only half understand but follow with rapt attention. What I do glean is I was right about the beginning and end and the segments of the glyph refer to different parts of the spell. Somatic, Verbal, and Material. This one only has Somatic and Verbal.

“I hope that wasn’t too hard to follow. I’ll admit, some of this stuff requires prior knowledge of spell composition.” 

He looks sheepish as he pulls the book away and goes to set it down gently off to the side so he can continue to consult it from afar. It’s endearing, his concern.

“Some of it certainly went over my head but I’ve read political treatise and legalese so dense they make your head spin. I’m no stranger to asking questions and learning more.” 

That seems to assuage him. He shakes out his arms and gives a winning smile. “Are you ready?”

“After you master wizard,” I say with a playful bow.

He makes a gesture that is almost like theatrically flipping something over in his hands. I watch astutely as something seems to glow from between them. Then he gestures for me to mimic him. I try my best. It’s a lot less confident than his, but from the wideness of his grin I’ve done it satisfactorily enough. Then a shiver goes up my spine as a feeling begins to overtake me. Warmth and… something I cannot place. It’s different from the sunlight of Lathander, or Shadowheart’s healing, or the electric crackle when Gale casts something. I must rock back at the sensation because Gale’s hand is there to meet me at the small of my back. “That’s the Weave. Don’t be afraid. You get used to it.”

It does feel like poetry. It feels like looking up from prose that touches your soul and letting the words sink into your skin and bury themselves in the very marrow of your being. I close my eyes at the feeling and let it wash over me. “More things on Heaven and Earth…” I say as I open my eyes.

“Indeed,” Gale matches my conspiratorial whisper. “That was the Somatic component. Are you ready for the Verbal?” I nod. “Repeat after me. Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao.”

The words are strange on my tongue but then the feeling somehow compounds, doubling, tripling in intensity. Gale’s voice is hushed in my ear as he leans in and whispers, “Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of Harmony. As true as you can.”

My mind wheels through various options. Things I’ve been taught are harmony. People living in peace together. Unwavering Devotion to the Morninglord. People singing different words and notes but bringing together something transcendent and beautiful. 

None of it seems to fit. 

Harmony is this. It’s sitting in a Druid’s Grove full of people who just want to survive, surrounded by nature and beauty and finding a moment of peace despite the hell of our reality. It’s taking precious minutes of our lives for an impromptu magic lesson in a discipline I am wholly unfamiliar with. It's Gale's patience and my eagerness and this feeling rolling over me in waves. 

My hand finds Gale’s as a pulse of energy issues forth. 

An energy field envelops us. It plays with our clothes like a breeze in the absence of any detectable current. Weave. Purple and blue and as fine as spun sugar. It tastes sweet and floral and electric in a good way. 

Poetry and music and beauty all rolled into one. Gale has never been more right.

“It’s beautiful Gale.”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He muses, his eyes reflecting the beautiful light surrounding us.

“No. No it doesn’t, I choke out around an incredulous laugh. I feel the urge to weep and laugh and dance all at once. This is incredible.

Instead, we stand like this- Gale’s hand pressed against my back and his other clasped in mine- breathing in what feels to me like the cosmos for some time. 

“Do you feel her? Watching over us?” A reverent tone has taken over his voice as Gale breaks our reverie. Calling attention to it suddenly helps me put the feeling into words. We are being perceived by Mystra of all things. It’s a strange feeling, different than it was being perceived by Lathander. This is less direct, more idle than anything. It’s the comfort of knowing she is there. She is watching over us and keeping us safe. Tangible reassurance that your faith is not misplaced. This is a prayer answered.

“Thank you,” I say with a squeeze of my hand. We are making the most direct eye contact we have this entire encounter. No more passing glances that happen to meet or gazing at the other as they experience the majesty unfolding around us. Connection, true connection this time. 

“For what?” Gale breaths, like he truly doesn’t know what a gift this is. 

“For teaching me. For giving me a taste of what you experience everyday. For opening my eyes to this.” My free hand gestures around us and I mean to follow with my eyes but find I cannot tear them away. Gale looks so alive when surrounded by magic, in a way he isn’t when he is pursuing other things. It suits him handsomely. 

It sinks in exactly how intimate this moment is, the two of us connected not only by touch but by the very Weave itself. I could take a thousand nights just like this one and never tire. And what I would do for a lifetime of conversations about subjects like this one! Strolling arm in arm learning from each other. I am half-convinced even a lifetime wouldn’t be enough.

As if in the same breath,  I am filled by an almost innate sense of how beautiful I look lit by the Weave. The way my green eyes compliment the hues of purple and blue and the copper of my hair stands out against the ethereal backdrop. It’s a strange and discordant thought. Not mine.

I think we both realize at the same time that they aren’t our thoughts, that perhaps the tadpoles have pulled a fast one on us or even the Weave has something to do with it. We both blush in unison and impressively. 

And then we laugh. 

Gale’s laugh is always loud and rapturous. Barking would be a good way to describe it. But it’s pleasant and jovial. It feels right every time I hear it. I get the sense mine is musical in the way horn instruments are. Not like peeling bells, but brassy and boisterous and unladylike. That makes sense, my grandmother hated my laugh. It was too masculine and unbecoming of a daughter of a noble house, my culturally masculine social position be damned. Which is a damn shame, it is a nice laugh. 

“I- Um- Well.” Gale clears his throat, still blushing. “Unexpected consequences. Not unwelcome ones! But unexpected all the same.” I’m still laughing, gently now. “There is no harm. I’m glad someone likes my laugh.” Gale blushes impossibly harder.

In a swift movement, like a breeze blowing smoke away, the spell dissipates. It’s almost frigid in it’s absence, or maybe it’s the act of Gale stepping away that brings the chill. I refuse to let him release my hand though.

“There it goes. As fleeting as the dawn, wouldn’t you agree?” He smiles at me, pleased at his metaphor. 

------------------------------

[soranihimawari]

I Missed You

Pairing: Oikawa x (gn!) reader

Word Count: tbd

Rating: Oikawa Tooru Fluff [otf]

Warnings: none// reader in timeskip becomes a doctor specializing in aging/older athletes and completing necessary check-ups before a match.

Note: I tried to not tie any gender-specific nouns when describing reader.

How I think OIkawa & reader hug each other after not seeing each other in a long time.

[23:45]

That’s the time stamp you receive on an old friend’s text. There are only three words which the message is comprised of. When you read them aloud to yourself in the comfort of your own home, you seem to repeat them like a mantra.

‘I miss you’

Simple hope draws from this in a way that can’t be described as you stare at your screen until you ultimately lock your phone. You close your eyes for a a few minutes when your brain decides to show you a highlight reel of the activities you used to do with the sender. Learning the rules of volleyball, joining in their team jogging paths, coming to scheduled matches, accompanying him to the nurse’s office when he landed on his feet wrong, etc. He was destined to be famous, just not here at home in Japan, no. Somewhere half a world away called out to him first. Argentina was distant, far, the most you’d ever be separated and even then, the times prior were literally at the start of up schooling lives.

Unfortunately, the last memory behind the closed eyes you see is a bittersweet one: the reality your friend, confidant, (and crush) hits you. You never did want to wind up fighting with him, but for once you’d want him to fight to stay here. With you. As his best friends remind you, you’d be holding him back from his true potential ever since he started practicing with the collegiate teams up the road from where you live—this was where the initial rift began to be drawn between you two.

During lunch one day, you visit his classroom, sitting next to him explaining (or rather complaining) the trouble you were having with a particular class and one of the assignments needed to be completed prior to a content exam.

“Do you ever shut up about schoolwork, yn?”

You pause, a disappointed look heavy on your brow as those within earshot suddenly fall quiet.

“I’m sorry not all of us have a righteous path carved in front of us, Tooru,” the tonality in your voice was one of annoyance. “Some of us have to work even harder to achieve our dreams other than hoping to skip town and follow in their idol’s footsteps.”

Ever since that brief conversation, you and one Oikawa Tooru, are now practically strangers come graduation day. You hear whispers via the third year rumor mill of his accomplishments and his ultimate defeat against both Shiratorizawa and Karasuno. Matches you weren’t there to show your support for, even if Iwazumi Hajime, the ace and vice captain, had invited you because, “it would be nice for him (oikawa) to see a familiar face in the crowd.”

Glancing back at Iwazumi’s moss green eyes and stoic countenance, “and if I recall, it would be nicer if I wasn’t there because it might distract him further. There are plenty of scouts heading to those matches. I’m sure he’d catch one of their eyes.”

“And if those scouts ask him to move to another country, are you really going to be ok with not saying your goodbyes when we graduate, yn?”

You aggravatedly sigh at him, muttering an annoyed, “Yes, Iwazumi-kun, even then.”

Many months later, post Oikawa's jog in the winter while watching the Karasuno v Inarizaki match, it is now springtime. You’re holding a bouquet of flowers from your parents who pose with you for pictures around the inner school gates of Aoba Josai’s campus. Your fellow classmates and club members surround you for more photos as well. This was going to be one of the final memories you have for your high school career. You were accepted into a university specializing in biomedical engineering with a strong focus on exercise science.

This was your dream, not necessarily the same path as Iwazumi’s to become an athletic trainer, no, however you had wanted to be a doctor whose focus would help restore and maintain older athlete’s bodies even post retirement. Helping those who had maybe one or two career setbacks was something which had captivated you the more you began to focus on the life sciences of your high school careers and with the help of those teachers, they had written for you a brilliant recommendations to boost your acceptance after passing the various university exams.

[13:43]

In your office nearly a decade later from high school graduation, sits your newest patient. He comes from Argentina, like your nurses tell you, but the rumor that he had come on a friend's recommendation is what actually piques your interest. Well, to be fair, two of your friends' personal recommendation are what causes you to raise your eyebrow. The nurse on duty that day takes his vitals as normal, asks him the routine questions before giving him the proper spiel of, "sit tight and the doctor will see you in a few minutes."

Oikawa Tooru has come home for several reasons. The only one on the top of his list is coming home for an exhibition match game he was invited to by the former captain of Nekoma and now representative of the JVA. However, when word reaches Iwazumi's camp in the national team's gym, he smirks, sending a text halfway across the world. Your name is thrown into the mix of doctors who are willing to examine older, closer to retirement age, athletes. Considering this was not how he had wanted to spend his second day back in his home country, Oikawa Tooru asks to book this appointment to get an all clear before playing the V-League exhibition match Kuroo talked him into attending.

You are reading over the file of the new patient outside of the room in the hallway. You scan over the various ticks he had made on the questionnaire along with your nurse who says that his young son looks up to Oikawa-san as a professional volleyball player.

"Repeat that one more time, Sato-san," you clear your throat when Sato-san repeats what he had said earlier.

"My son is as huge fan of Oikawa-san," he points to the name at the top of the document in your hand.

Right there, next to Sato-san, the nurse's pointer finger, is the kanji of the name of a person you thought about since your high school, university, and medical school graduation days. You clear your throat, thanking Sato for his time measuring the vitals of the next patient in the room you're about to enter.

"No prob doc," is all Sato says when he walks back to the nurse station leaving you to enter the examination room where an old flame sits.

You take a deep breath prior to knocking and entering. You open the door and you see OIkawa bent over on the examination bed, reading something on his phone. His hair is cropped shorter, his shoulders are a bit broader, his skin a bit tanner, and for lack of better words, his muscles quite filled out the rest of him. He's still humming a tune you're unfamiliar with until your shoes enters his field of vision.

"Hello Tooru," your voice causes him to freeze and immediately causes his eyes to avert away from his phone. "It's been a while."

Oikawa's coffee-colored eyes study your face and the recognition hits him like a truck. Although he is dressed in a sky blue buttoned blouse and dark jeans compared to your teal scrubs and white lab coat, he stands up, arms extended to crush you in a hug. His patient file falls to the floor when you hug him back.

You hear him for the first time since that argument long ago, voice wobbly and all, "I missed you."

[wonderlandsakura]

What if Danny was never drawn to his own haunt cause he had a One True King kind of situation

-

The Keep, the Haunt of the Ghost King has never completely matched the needs and wishes of any of the Ghost Kings.

It has always been too small, too big, too filled with rooms that they never needed the use of, too bright, too dark, too childish, too comfortable, too humble, too welcoming, too filled with little glowing stars for some unknown reason??

While the presence of each new Ghost King did change the place slightly, no matter how long their reign, the place never truly became theirs, the fundamental base of the Keep never changed, never bent to the one using it.

(It was however still used by them, as it was a symbol of their power.)

The more easy-going Kings theorised that it was simply because they had another haunt that had actually formed with them, while the Keep had been through many hands and thus could not be anyone's solely, but was rather the Infinite Realms'.

To truly change the Keep, they theorised, was to irreversibly change the Infinite Realms itself.

On the other hand, the more controlling Kings that passed through the Crown and Ring sought to warp the Keep to their control by force, but all ultimately failed.

There was one among them, however, that managed to warp the Keep the most, whether it was through the awesome and fearful power he wielded against even his own subjects, the amount of change he brought upon the Infinite Realms buy forcing it to adapt to being without a someone specific to do the duties of the Ghost King, or simply the comparitively long rule compared to other Ghost Kings that had been obsessed with some form of control.

Ultimately, however, no one could truly change, control and make the Keep their own.

Why?

Well, simply put, it was because it was not their Haunt.

The Keep was formed at the same time the Infinite Realms itself was formed (before even the first Ghost King was an idea), formed to house the one and only being who would serve and protect It and It's people, protect It's relations with the other Realms it was connected to and simply keep the balance between It and Them, between Life and Death.

It becoming the Keep was something caused by the population of the Infinite Realms, believing their strongest and wisest the one foretold to them in the words they had been formed knowing:

Do Seek our Savior when, The Trials Three are Done, First that of Acceptance, Second that of Conquering, Last that of Self, and then, We Crown our King, the One, the True, And celebrate as all is balanced once more

Well whether they were supported by the population or were egotistical mad men, none of them were that which they believed them to be.

Until Danny.

-

Did you know, did you know?

On the day of his rebirth, the Infinite Realms sung in the Cores of all it's people.

Did you hear, did you hear?

He protects all who need it, even those who were once his enemies, those that are different, those that aren't his people.

He is Kind and Accepting.

Did you know, did you know?

He brought down Pariah Dark, the Tyrant King, one only the Ancients working together could capture.

(But didn't he have help? Wasn't he aided? Two hands closed that coffin)

He fought him alone, without help from any other, with a device that amplifies one's power, like the age he doesn't have.

(He's so young.

Did you hear? Oh did you hear?

The King's a Child.

He's so young, so young, so young.

Did you know? Oh please, did you know?

I know you didn't.)

He is Powerful and Conquers all who pose a threat.

Did you hear? Did you hear?

They say he fought himself, a stronger and greater version that destroyed his world.

A Tyrant King that killed every being.

A true ghost, with power rivaling an Ancient.

The ghost halves of two Halfa.

(Aren't the ghost halves of Halfas more powerful?

Yes, they are.)

One who caused such fear that the Realms rejected him, that the Observants sought to end him before he was born.

(They wanted to kill the King, Our King.

How dare they. How dare they.

He's Ours!)

Did you know? Did you know?

He Won.

The King, (Our King) Won.

He has Defeated the worst aspects of his Self.

Long Reign The King.

(He has completed the trials.)

Long Reign The King.

(He is Just and Kind.)

Long Reign The King, The One True King, Always and Forevermore.

(He is the King, Our King.)

-

When Danny stepped into the Keep for the first time after his coronation, he knew it as his own.

He knew the place, every corridor, every room, like it was a part of him he had always had but never used. (It was though wasn't it? A part of him?)

Unlike every other King before him, the Keep was perfect for him.

Every unwanted aspect left behind by the previous tenants (cause that's what they were, weren't they? Tenants.) had been either removed or shuffled into one of the many storerooms created precisely for that at the moment he had been officially crowned.

(And what a crowning it was, for the moment the Crown and Ring had been put on, something in all the ghosts settled, like a missing puzzle piece, a yearning fed, a prophecy ingrained in them fulfilled.)

The Keep felt to him like home he had lived in every day of his life and yet never been in, a part of himself he was rediscovering after a long time without.

As Danny wandered through His Keep, he knew what lay behind every door, what every room was for, the location of everything in the Keep, like a nostalgic walk through a childhood home that he had not visited in a few years, but yet had not changed.

It felt like coming Home.