#I can’t draw faces to save my life 😭😭

[robomusical]

Megatron doodles

We call this one wanting to draw without wanting to draw, also I need the practice. Sorry if the quality’s ass I don’t know how to make it better 😭

[jjenthusee]

🎃 Halloween Shenanigans Pt.2 🎃

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: i’m like the only one wearing a halloween themed shirt on campus rn so im kinda sad no one wanted to be festive 😭 but HAPPY HALLOWEEN ✨😌✨ i’ve been busy with exams this week, so sorry for the short drabbles lately, but ENJOY :) comment if your comfortable, reblog and u will get some flowers 💐 and like if u can <3

Tags: MATCHING HALLOWEEN SHIRTS, worried jason, reader is going to give jason more white hair, pumpkin carving

Check out pt. 1 here!

You grabbed the two round pumpkins, setting them on the table right next to each other. Each picked with the intention to carve them.

“Maybe we should’ve grabbed some carving tools cause all I’ve got are the stuff from my patrol.” Jason came out, wearing the same Halloween themed shirt as you did, holding onto very sharp and dangerous knives that he kept somewhere deep in his utility belt. “They’re clean by the way.”

You glanced over to where he was standing. You watched how he effortlessly handled them.

“Do you trust me with those?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow in question while glancing at the glistening edges of the recently sharpened knives.

“Uh…” Jason contemplated, staring at your eyes shining at the opportunity to handle something so deadly. “Maybe I can run to the store.”

He started to safely put them away.

“They’ve practically replaced all the Halloween stuff with the next holiday items, so we have no choice.” You started to reach for the utility belt.

“And leave you with a knife dangerous enough to cut through Batman’s grappling lines? Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Jason started to turn around to put back his patrol gear.

“Wait! I have you. You’ll help me.” You tried to reason. “It’s also Halloween, we can’t go to the store, there will be nothing there.”

Jason looked back at you, mentally listing all the dangers. His white streak of hair drooping as low as his frown when he couldn’t find a sliver of reason.

“Pleaaaase.” You kept persisting.

Jason sighed.

“This is a horrible idea.”

“Yay!” You cheerfully walked back to the table, getting out a sheet of paper, inking Red Hood’s emblem on it. You were originally planning to do a ghost design, but you had to make sure Jason would let you carve this pumpkin tonight, no matter what.

And if that meant being a suck up, then you were carving that emblem like your life depended on it.

Jason sighed again as he pulled out the chair next to you, watching you draw.

“You really aren’t holding back.” He pulled your chair right next to his, resting his arm on the back to minimize some distance between you.

“Only cause Red Hood is the most handsome, amazing as hell, sexiest vigilante in the entire world.” You smiled wide, patting Jason affectionately on the cheek to seal the deal.

He grabbed your hand, pecking a small kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Gleefully you leaned back, turning your head to kiss his shoulder. The fabric of your matching shirts meeting the edge of your mouth.

You got back to your art piece, trying to make sure the design was perfect.

As Jason watched you, you just let the thoughts of your mind run out. Dinner plans, did you get enough candy for tonight, how you planned to watch all the horror movies you could.

It was questions filled with excitement to Jason as he nuzzled into you, giving as fast of responses as he could, but a big smile was on his face as he listened to you talk and ramble.

“Maybe I could dress up as you next year.” You thoughtlessly said, puncturing holes in the pumpkin for your outline.

Jason’s eye widened. He strangely really liked the idea. A little too much.

“Could you imagine me saving you?” You chuckled to yourself, imagining trying to carry Jason in your arms to safety. “I might have to start exercising to build up the muscle.”

You started your plan in your head. Your eyebrows lowering and nodding as you were starting to like the plan.

“Then I can take a photo of me carrying you, dressed as you.” You looked back at Jason, seriously meeting his gaze.

He was taken back, at your intensity and the clear devotion you were willing to put in.

“You can’t carry me.” Jason lazily shook his head, reaching up to rub the back of your neck affectionately.

“Just you wait. I’m gonna do it.” You turned back to carving. Determination seeping into your veins.

Jason let you get back to mentally planning as he worriedly watched your every move. This was a very dangerous activity. He shouldn’t have let you do this at all.

Once your arms were getting tired from carving, you put the knife down.

“If I can’t even carve this, how will I carry you?” You leaned back into your chair, back into Jason’s side.

“I can finish it.” He kissed your temple.

“No, I’m determined.” You puffed.

Jason was going to break out into a cold sweat.

—

After much arm strength and a piece of candy, you managed to carve out the pumpkin, but it wasn’t that good.

There were knife marks in areas you didn’t mean to put, it was a miracle that you managed to get the general shape of the bat symbol.

“Maybe I’ll let you be the one to handle the knives from now on.” You put the candle in the hallowed center, gently lightning the carving.

You admired your work despite how clumsy it looked.

“It’s perfect.” Jason was finally breathing, he held every breath each time you stabbed the pumpkin.

“Let’s put it outside!” You placed the pumpkin outside your front door.

Jason had managed to carve his, the iconic pumpkin face next to yours. He finished his as quickly as he could since he didn’t want to leave you unsupervised for too long.

He definitely won’t forget another carving kit after this year.

[scribesoflex]

going quietly - ethan landry

a/n; she’s here!!! thanks for waiting, i love u 🫶🏻 also there’s def bound to be spelling errors, and grammar or punctuation mistakes even after reading it a billion times- I wrote on my phone this time 😭

pairing; e2l nongf!ethanxfem!reader

warnings; smut! mentions of stabbing, blood, violence, mentions of killing/death, bickering, stabbing, brief panicked hospital, ghost face attack, smut, kissing, making out, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (do not try this irl), cream pie, sub ethan undertones

taglist; @elinanova @fanboyluvr @ghswlz @bajadotcom @oscarisdaddy69 @nuhteyam @certifiedpussyeater @lunaoieoie @hotweeb @beautyb1ade @vivianbay @doingurmomma @multishippinghoe @luvmara @lilluna @jaysarchiv3 @iovemoonyy @shaylaaaaa16 @nini123 @bloodyv7mp @inlovewmikewh33ler @karacaroldanvers @nishinoyastoes @zxvcq @luv-4-jj @sluttt444slashersss @fuaq

music

Big round puppy dog eyes are staring down at you, a sense of faux innocence masking the curly headed boy you swear you hate right now. You can’t stand him, really. In all his good boy, golden retriever, dork glory. You don’t believe it for a second.

So why do you have this feeling in your stomach, a warm heat that sparks when he’s this close. When you can smell the cologne on him, and the musky sweat from running all over New York. The dark bags forming beneath his shiny eyes that make him look almost dead, the purple and red bruise on his cheek bone, the dark blue long sleeve that’s far too form fitting. Why do you stare at his biceps, watching the way his long thick fingers run down the side of his pretty face.

He could be a murderer. He could be plotting to kill you at this very moment. Maybe he looks at you that way because he wants to make it hurt. Why do you want him to make it hurt? Why does the thought of him behind a mask you’ve come to hate have heat pooling between your legs? Maybe the lack of sleep, and the inability to escape this killer has finally gotten to your head. Maybe you’re actually going insane.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Sam draws you out of your thoughts. Your eyes land on her, suddenly a pounding in your head, and a pain from your side that has you grimacing. You mutter a ‘what?’ pressing your palm into the stab wound, blood seeping from your side, through the material of your black tank top, running down the cracks of your fingers down your wrist.

She frowns at you, eyes looking at Ethan before they land on you again, as if she’s already regretting what she’s about to say “Ethan should take you to the hospital- you’ll bleed out” she does regret it. Knows that if Ethan is the killer that he’ll leave you to die in alley somewhere, but if he isn’t and he doesn’t take you to the hospital, you could die after getting away a third time. Knows you’d haunt her if she let that happen.

You glare up at Ethan through your lashes, can feel the tears gathering at your lash line, but reach up to grab his shoulder anyway “if you kill me and survive, I’ll haunt you for the remainder of your sad life Jack ass” you threaten, and he hums, slipping his arm round your waist, placing his hand just above yours.

You limp down from the apartment, loosing strength by the minute, forced to lean more into Ethan as he tried for a cab. When one finally pulls to the side you slide in, ethan sliding in a little too close next to you.

“When I save your life, I better get the greatest thanks known to mankind” he mumbles, lifting your shirt a little to asses the damage, “I hope that hurts” he tacks on, whispering it bitterly into your ear.

‧ ⨯ . ⁺ +. ✦ ⸝⸝ ✧ 𓂂 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🪩 ﹅ ੭

When you walk through the ER doors, you’re bombarded with a flock of nurses, ushering you to the nearest bed. Ethan trails behind, lost like a puppy, stumbling after the nurses as they scurry around, asking them what they’re doing or how long it’ll take. You roll your eyes, scoffing at his idiocy. The boy has clearly never even scraped his knee falling off a bike, much less been in an ER with someone who’s been stabbed. It makes you anxious.

“Ethan! Just sit!” You whisper yell, whipping his head as you call his name, his features falling as you scold him. He slumps into the leather chair not far from the bed you’re sat on, cradling his cheek in his palm. He just watches you, eyes fleeting from your wound, to your face, clearly trying to decipher what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling.

You roll your eyes again “Quit staring creep” you press your lips into a flat line, trying not to laugh as the nurse coming closer side eyes him hearing your words, your spin straightens, a hiss escaping your lips as she begins rattling on about what’s going to happen.

You already know of course, the scar on the back of your left shoulder a reminder, you’ll need sedated, an iv drip, stitches, blah blah blah. This time you’ll have to leave earlier, no way you can afford to stay for 48 hours, don’t care how much blood you’ve lost or how weak you are. Ethan can see it in your eyes as the lay you back, what you’re plotting, the way you don’t even flinch when they stick your side with whatever, or when they stitch you up. You do look at him when they cut your shirt off, and he doesn’t look away for once.

When they’re done, eleven stitches later, and you’re laying back in the bed with an IV in your arm the small secluded area becomes flooded with an awkward silence.

“We need to leave” you sigh, eyes glancing to the clock, you’ve only been gone two hours max. Unfortunately you know well enough a lot can happen in two hours.

Ethan sits up stripping in his chair, shaking his head with drawn brows “If something happens we’ll know” he stands, coming to the edge of your bed “you need this though” his fingers thrum against the needle in your arm, the small touch has your skin breaking out in goosebumps, fingers tightening their grip on the sheet beneath you.

“Why are you being so fucking sweet to me” you grimace, face forming a scowl. You sit up just enough so that your eyes are closer to his, but he’s obviously taller than you, leaving you forced to glare up at him. His brows draw together and he crosses his arms over his chest, the muscle of his biceps bulging beneath the dark blue shirt, from the angle he looks less boyish. Dark eyes staring you down, jaw clenched in clear aggravation, lips forming a hard line instead of a cute pout.

“Why are you always such a bitch to me?” He shoots back, voice low so that nobody hears, but loud enough that you can tell he’s clearly angry.

“Maybe I’m just a bitch” you shrug.

“Maybe you’re just a liar” he cocks a brow, shrugging back.

Before you can jest back, the fire alarm rings through the hospital, water spraying down from above, lights dimming down so that the flash from the alarms is evident.

You’re ripping the iv from your arm and slipping on Ethan’s jacket, zipping it up, and yanking him quickly towards the exit before a nurse can even reach you. As you make your way through the panicked crowd, your fingers lace together, tightly wound so you don’t get separated.

The ER of a New York City hospital is hard enough to get in and out as is, fire alarm only added stress and the halls flood and become to crowded to even see the nearest exit. Bodies are pushing against and in between the both of you, shouting and babies crying, water blurring your vision as you try and tunnel a way out.

“Ethan, we need to get out now! There are no coincidences in our movie!” You warn, hoping he gets the message, your spine going rigid when your fingers are forced apart and the start of a reply is muffled as your bodies are pushed apart. You spin on your heel, pushing through bodies, wincing in pain when someone elbows your stitches. A shoe catches your boot, loosing balance you stumble to your feet, people don’t bother helping you up as they pass.

You crawl, the rips in your jeans leaving skin visible to bruise against the wet hard floor, someone steps on your fingers and you yelp out, forcing yourself to your feet with your hand cradled to your chest. Your fingers ache, unbendable, your curse under your breath, squinting as people push past you, trying your best to find Ethan’s face in the crowd.

You fail to see him, ready to give up and call out for him, when you see it. The white mouth, faux mouth smiling menacingly, looking directly at you. They tilt their head, knife waving in the air in front of them, teasing you with a fake stab motion the their chest. You frown, looking to your left and then right, and when you look back they’re gone. Panic sets in, and you bolt to the door on your right, shaky hands twisting and pulling at the knob. Locked. You curse under your breath, looking over your shoulder, before you fall to a squat, walking along the edge of the wall.

Your eyes are frantic, watching the feet you pass for the end of a black cloak, heart wild in your chest. Your palms are sweating, fingers and hands shaking, knees aching as you creep around a corner, escaping the crowd. You slump against the wall, knees pulled tightly to your chest, erratic breathing. The sprinklers have stopped now, but the water makes your mascara run, eyes aching, body now cold, your side aching. You’re alone, Ethan had to have gotten out, but the ghost face is here and you’re alone.

What if the ghost face got to Ethan first? The thought has your stomach twisting, nausea crawling up your throat, you slump forward onto your palms, breakfast spilling all over the floor. Tears have now crept past your lash line, falling down your cheeks to the ground, legs shaking as you stand. You press your palm to your wound, blood seeping through Ethan’s jacket, staining your skin. A stitch must’ve broken.

You peek around the corner, the last of crowd escaping through the exits, and then look the opposite way. Deciding that the ghost face couldn’t have gotten far, you begin jogging towards the exit you’d originally intended leaving out, foot steps heavy against the damp ground.

Before you can even get half way there, a scream echoes through the halls, a guy clearly. The thought of it being Ethan has you stopping in your tracks, spinning around to see where it could’ve come from.

“Ethan! Ethan where are you!” You shout, greeted by the screech of sneakers on the ground, you flinch, head whipping around in the direction of the sound. The bed you’d been at, curtains pulled closed, a figure looming in the distance “shit” you grumble, rolling your eyes as you run in the direction of the figure.

Your hands are shaking, fingers hesitant as you reach to yank the curtains back, and when you do large hand wrap around your shoulders, sending you tumbling backwards. You scream in protest, staring up into the eyes of the mask, one of your hands meets the side of their face, knocking them in the jaw, rolling of of you with a grunt. You scurry to your feet, eyes searching for the knife, failing to see as they stand up far too quickly, gripping the hair at the base of your neck, yanking you backwards into their chest.

You protest “let me go you motherfucker!” you shout, elbowing them, lurching across the bed falling flat onto your face into Ethan’s chest. You gasp, palms flat against his chest, straddling him as his eyes struggle to stay open. Blood touches your fingertips, his shirt open revealing a stab to his shoulder, and then you notice the blood pooling his curly head.

You’re about to say something when his arms wrap around you, your bodies rolling to the right, you look to the left- ghost face mere feet away. You and Ethan are now quick to your feet, him still slowly moving behind you as you start down the hallway, getting closer and closer to a room that hopefully has a lock.

You usher him inside first, slamming the door just as the ghost face spots you, locking it hurriedly, moving the filing cabinet closest to block it.

You look at you me surroundings, assessing the windows, a way out. Then you remember Ethan.

He’s sat slumped against the front of the desk, palm pressed to his wound, grimacing. You fall to your knees, fitting yourself between his, carefully moving his hand away. He flinches when your fingers dance along the wound, unable to tell how deep it is, you grip the tear already made by the knife, pulling with all your strength to rip the shirt off him.

He stays silent, watching as you use the fabric to wrap across his chest and shoulder, hoping it can suffice enough for you to get out of the window and to your apartment.

“We need to leave now.”

‧ ⨯ . ⁺ +. ✦ ⸝⸝ ✧ 𓂂 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🪩 ﹅ ੭

It had taken you longer than expected to reach your apartment m, several weird stares and concerned police officers later, you’re now sat with Ethan on your couch as you dress his wound. Finishing off you lean away with a sigh, tossing your first aid kit onto the coffee table, cradling your head in your palms.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” You mutter, looking at him through the cracks in your fingers, frowning when he quietly nods. His knee knocks against yours, and his fingers wrap around your wrists, tugging your hands away from your face gently.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice quiet and raspy, wavering a little. Your chest stutters, stomach doing that stupid thing, finger tips twitching in his palms. His hair has dried, but it sticks to his face because of sweat, sweat that makes his face glow, lips parted and swollen from biting them. His eyes are wide, a little red from irritation, searching your face, dropping to your mouth, then looking away when he realizes you’re staring back.

It’s slow, silent, as your faces inch closer. You can feel his warm breath on your upper lip, the stubble on his jaw when your fingers slip up his face into his hair, the heat from his hands that are now on your hips like an open flame, searing the feeling of his skin on yours into your body like muscle memory.

Then you’re kissing, lips moving in sync, tongues brushing. It’s messy and inexperience, your teeth even clashing, breathing becoming hurried. He tastes like watermelon chewing gum, and also blood, the coppery taste bitter but no unwelcome at all.

You crawl onto his lap, straddling his thighs, sighing into his mouth as his hands travel up your spine, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. He tugs very slightly, just enough for you to feel it, making your core ache. You start grinding down against his bulge subconsciously, desperate for friction between your legs, your mouth falling open against his when you get it.

“Oh fuck ethan” you whine, brows drawing together as you press down harder, he presses his forehead to your temple. Panting out against your cheek, his hand creeps around your body, down your stomach and to the button of your jeans.

When his fingers slip into your panties, very quickly finding your clit, your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers make circles on the bud, whispering into your ear as he plays with your pussy “Does it feel good?” he asks, and when you can’t seem to respond he worried he’s doing it wrong “Please I want to make you feel good baby” he mutters, switching techniques, flicking your clit side to side.

You squirm, hands digging into the skin of his hips as you pull away to look him in the eyes “I’m gonna cum” you whine, and your jaw goes slack when his fingers suddenly plunge into your heat, stretching you out deliciously.

“You’re so tight, and fucking wet” he coos, fingers thrusting in and out of you quickly, while his thumb abuses your clit. You rock into his touch, open mouth panting against his jaw, eyes rolling back as your orgasm creeps up “You look so pretty, so so pretty cumming on my fingers, Jesus fuck” mumbling the words into your hair has your thighs shaking, cumming dramatically, cursing under your breath. You clench around his fingers, grinding into his touch, wetness ruining your underwear, even soaking through the crotch of your jeans onto his.

“Can you give me another one? Wanna feel you on my cock please?” He whines, slipping his hand out of your pants, bucking his hips up into your core, stiff cock pressing to your core through the layers.

“I don’t know Ethan” you pout, nose knocking against his, a blush covering your cheeks when he pecks your lips. When you look at him, face flushed and sweaty, eyes begging silently, you feel heat between your legs once again, sighing in defeat “Has to be fast, need to get back to sams” you mumble into his mouth, and he nods in agreement.

He’s quickly, almost ripping your pants off, panties as well. When his cock is free, you think you’re actually salivating. He’s big, as to be expected, long and girthy, tip slapping against his belly button; angry and red, leaking with pearly beads of precum. A vein runs up the underside, prominent. You’re staring at his cock, like you’re ready to eat him alive.

“Is something wrong?” He interrupts your gaze.

Your quick to cradle his face in your palms, shaking your head quickly, pressing your mouth against his. You hover above his tip, grabbing him by the base, letting the head gently protrude at your entrance, shuddering at the stretch that already begins to burn as you slowly sink down. He moans into your mouth, and you accidentally bite down on his lip too hard, breaking the soft skin. Once he’s fully inside you find it hard to breathe, completely stuffed full of cock. Full of Ethan’s cock, feeling it twitch and pulsate inside of you, clearly begging you to move.

“So fucking tight” he practically growls, shoulders shuddering when you rise up again, ass slapping against his thighs when you fall back down. He wraps a stepping arm around your waist, carefully avoiding your wound, then begins fucking up into you a a gentle pace.

“Feels so good, love it so fucking much” he whines, eyes wide open as he looks between your bodies, speeding up with no warning “never want to leave, live in this pussy” his babbling has your heart fluttering, a drunk smile taking over your face as you moan out, nodding at his every praise.

He reaches so deep, deeper than any guy before, you’re almost sure he’s in your cervix, literally rearranging your guts. You chuckle at that, recalling threats from six months ago over the phone. When you laugh slightly, you clench around him, and that has him moaning out, head falling against the back of the couch.

The noises he makes are pretty, whiney and shameless, a contrast to the dirty words he’s letting out; and to how he looks, tall and muscular, drilling into you at an inhumane pace.

“I’m gonna cum again baby” you let out, slumping into his chest, spent, letting him fuck into you as he pleases. Your thighs are burning, sweaty everywhere, eyes barely open. The cord in your stomach is winding so tight your cunt aches, seeping wetness around the base of his cock, making obscene wet noises every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass.

He hums “yeah, yeah I’m close” he mumbles into the top of your head, fingers digging into the skin of yours hips so hard you know it’ll bruise “want you to cum on me, but- but can I cum inside?” he babbles, whiney, bordering on begging.

You nods frantically into his chest, heaving out a breathy string of ‘yesyesyesyes’ until you’re cumming around him, your body stilling, clenching around him as he cums as well. It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced, white hot burning through your veins, your eyes rolling so far back you can see your skull, nails digging into his biceps so harshly you make him bleed. The way he pulses, twitching, loading you completely full of himself. It almost feels like it’ll never stop, creaming out around the base of his cock, covering your raw puffy lips in a mix of his seed and your wetness.

As if on cue, pounding comes from your door, making the both of you jump, heads whipping to it in panic “We’ve got serial killers to kill!” Tara’s voice shouts, and the both of you face each other in surprise, bursting out into a fit of laughter.

rebloggers are the best <3

[phosphostar]

Could you make hc for the mouthwashing crew (minus Jdiddy) if they had actually been saved and made it back to earth after the crash? Like what life would be like for them? PLS PLS I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THM😭

LMFAO OF COURSE I CAN!!!!!!

return velocity

what if the crew (anya, daisuke, curly, swansea) made it back after the events of mouthwashing..?

cw: uhhh none really? except for what’s under the cut! tell me if i missed anything <3

𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞

oh my sweet summer boy.

he made it out with uhm

let’s just say a whole bunch of scars

his mom, was obviously worried. horrified. her baby.. hurt?? because of her? her heart is broken

but daisuke’s like “nono it’s okay!! i got a cool scar to show off to the ladies!!”

she just facepalms

i also hc daisuke never really learned how to drive. was too worried about partying. so swansea had to drive him and anya to their respective houses (i’ll get to why curly wasn’t there in a moment)

his parents meet anya and swansea

they are so happy they met swansea. this man taught our son? he’s gonna do great.

until daisuke goes back to yapping about video games. yeah so great.

they heavily thank anya though, for helping with saving daisuke after climbing into the vent. without her, he would’ve certainly died

basically daisuke finds his purpose (keeping cool in situations and dedicating his life to his friends)

𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐚

my poor baby anya

so we all know she struggled getting into medical school prior to the events in mouthwashing

in my mind daisuke’s parents helped pay for her medical school due to her basically saving his life

she goes to medical school, gets her necessary digress, and works in healthcare!!

ABORTS THE BABY.

SHE DOES NOT KEEP THE BABY.

becomes curly and swansea’s primary healthcare worker because she knew them best

really into gardening! helps take her mind off the ptsd of everything that happened

got a restraining order against j-diddy

gets a kitty named towellet. she loves the thing.

𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐚

oh my swansea. no one loves you the way i do.

obviously is so happy to see his wife

and his kids!! can’t forget about them

they’d be worried sick, obviously hearing about the news of the tulpar

he reassures them that he’s safe (obviously), and he’ll be able to retire!!

his wife is obviously excited

i hc his wife is already retired and his kids already have kids

peepaw swansea for the win <33

i also hc he adopted an old bulldog.

they watch soap operas together all day and snore on the couch super loudly

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲

…

surprisingly didn’t die??

also he wasn’t in swansea’s car because uhm.. he was airlifted to the hospital

his recovery is difficult, obviously

he has moments he’s not sure he’ll make it out alive, and wonders if he should even still be breathing

obviously loves when swansea, daisuke, and anya visit. he literally loves it

he was given a multitude of surgeries, including skin graphs from donors, so some parts have darker hair than others, he thinks it’s cool.

daisuke was also a good match for blood i hc!! anya, daisuke, and swansea now regularly donate blood and plasma <3

i hc curly got an emotion support/guide dog names ratchet

sweetest baby around and curly adores him

he has prosthetics for his limbs, and used to completely cover them, a mask on his face and his hood up to complete the look

now he’s more confident in himself, and will happily go without a mask and basketball shorts!!

he has a voice box, but is still getting used to it!

daisuke bleached all his hair and cut it off for curly to make him a wig

he dosent wear it much, but he keeps it in a safe space

he wears a much more comfortable hair system

daisuke made his out of love, not practicality

𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞

company goes belly up.

curly and everyone sues him. even j-diddy.

they all win

what more can i say

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

they all still love hanging out, the 4 of them

goes to anya’s graduation

daisuke constantly draws for all of them

swansea fosters kittens

anya loves to bake treats for all of them

curly loves to spin his shoulder around to cause his prosthetic to spin in a complete circle

…

i’m so sorry

𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲

well.

woah.

he had a hefty trial.

obviously found guilty

got beat up in prison

was released on good behavior 🖕

i don’t think anya ever truly forgave him, or anyone for that matter.

which like good?

but he does visit curly sometimes at his hospital room

and sends the whole crew birthday/holliday cards

(only sends them to anya after his restraining order is done)

got a pitbull named mikey. loves his baby

he’s trying to turn his life around

he’s definitely still not sane

has been admitted to a mental institution involuntarily a few times

is on heavy medication to regulate his mood

got a sleeve tattoo of stars representing the crew (with their permission). i think he has a full sleeve

(thank you @/curly-my-beloved for that idea!!)

definitely got some of daisuke’s doodles tatted on him

a few important dates

he’s trying to be better

still an ass tho

i still don’t like him

[stayycalm]

i have a Request! could you write a little short about Hyunjin and Fem Reader? maybe something where Reader is in paris and taking picture of the beautiful scenery and ends up taking a picture of Hyunjin? but like they dont notice till they are back at their hotel? and then they are admiring the beautiful stranger and they cant sleep so they go out on their balcony to look at the beautiful lights but little do they know a wandering Hyunjin is outside looking for inspiration for drawing/paintng and when he sees a mysterious figure on a balcony hes enthralled by their silhouette? he hurries back to his room and begins to sketch right away and he wonders who the beauty was, and then they end up meeting? sorry this is long but i really want to know how you'd write this!!

ok, first of all, I want to deeply apologize, anon, because I'm just now finding this ask??? it's been in my inbox for a year?? so please accept my deepest apology and enjoy this! 😭

Drawn to You by stayycalm

The streets of Paris hum with life as I sling my trusty Canon Rebel T7 over my shoulder, ready to conquer my ambitious agenda. Two weeks here, and yet, the city’s allure hasn’t dulled a bit. Every street corner, every café, every wrought-iron balcony layered with Gothic spires or curving Art Nouveau façades feels like a treasure to an aspiring architect like me.

On this second-to-last day, I’m determined to make the most of it. The itinerary, planned by a finance teacher who wouldn’t know a flying buttress from a baguette, has been criminally devoid of exploration. I mutter under my breath, “How can anyone come here and not explore?”

I pause at Pont Alexandre III, lifting my camera to capture the graceful curve of a bridge flanked by its gilded statues, glowing in the soft morning light. Click. I take another, angling for the perfect shot of a bride crossing with her billowing white train, the Eiffel Tower rising in the distance.

As the day unfolds, I let my instincts guide me. From the serene paths of the Tuileries Gardens to ornate windows with their curved frames, I capture it all. Then, just as the sun begins to dip low, its golden light casting long shadows across the city, I find myself facing the Eiffel Tower. Its iron lattice glows with a warmth that takes my breath away. I can’t help but do a little happy dance as I check the shot in my viewfinder, triumphant.

A text buzzes from my phone, snapping me out of my euphoria. It’s my roommate, letting me know she’s heading back to the hotel. Sighing, I tuck my phone away and begin the trek back.

Later, I sit at the desk in our room, my hair wrapped in a towel from a much-needed shower. My laptop hums softly as I transfer the day’s photos. One by one, they fill the screen, and my excitement grows with every frame. I start editing, erasing stray tourists and clutter from the pristine geometry of my shots, until I reach the final picture.

My fingers hover over the trackpad as I zoom in on a figure in the background. He’s leaning casually against the bridge railing near the Eiffel Tower, his silhouette partially lit by the fading sunlight. His dark hair falls just past his shoulders, and his profile—what little I can see—is striking.

“Wow…” The word escapes me, barely a whisper.

“What are you oooh-ing over?” My roommate’s voice startles me. She emerges from the steamy bathroom, her towel-turbaned head tilting as she raises an eyebrow at me.

I jolt, fumbling to close the photo. “Oh, you know… buildings.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Only you could get off to a building.”

I snort, but the heat rises to my cheeks. Turning back to the laptop, I save my edits and close it, needing an escape. “I’m stepping out for a sec,” I announce, grabbing a cardigan and slipping out to the balcony.

The air is cool, and the city stretches before me, a sea of glittering lights. With the sun gone, Paris seems transformed into a constellation fallen to earth, each light twinkling like a star. I lean against the stone railing, letting the sight fill me.

It’s moments like these that make Paris feel like a dream—a city so alive, yet timeless. A city of romance, indeed.

Hyunjin's POV

The sharp click of my shoes against the marble echoed through the Versace store as I stepped out, the heavy glass doors swinging open. A wave of flashing lights greeted me, relentless and blinding, a cacophony of voices calling out my name—professional photographers and STAY alike. It was always surreal, this paradoxical familiarity. I didn’t know a single face in that sea of people, yet they all knew me, or at least the version of me they thought they knew.

My lips curled into a smile, practiced but genuine in its intent. The sunglasses resting on the bridge of my nose shielded my eyes, but they couldn’t hide my gratitude. I raised a hand, waving to the crowd before blowing a kiss into the air. The gesture elicited a cheer, a ripple of excitement that followed me until I ducked into the sleek black car waiting at the curb.

Inside the car, the energy of the crowd faded, replaced by the hum of the engine and the muted bustle of Paris beyond the tinted windows. When we pulled up to the hotel, I took a moment to shed the Versace image. Gone were the statement pieces; in their place, a plain hoodie, jeans, and sneakers.

Tonight, I wasn’t Hyunjin, the idol, the "Versace prince." Tonight, I was just Hyunjin—an artist looking for inspiration in the heart of Paris.

The city’s streets welcomed me with their usual charm: cobblestone paths, golden streetlights, and the murmur of life flowing seamlessly between its residents and visitors. It should’ve been easy—a city as alive as Paris practically begged to be captured in art. Yet, as I wandered through alleyways, past street performers and cafés spilling over with laughter, nothing reached out to me. The fire I sought remained elusive, a spark I couldn’t ignite.

The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, its iron frame bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. I found myself on a bridge, leaning against the railing as I stared out over the Seine. The water reflected the dying light in shimmering streaks, and the Tower cast a long shadow over the city.

“Where are you?” I muttered under my breath, the question aimed at no one in particular. A sigh escaped me as I pushed off the railing, shaking my head. Inspiration had never been this difficult to find before.

By the time the sun had dipped completely below the horizon, Paris transformed into a city of light. Neon signs buzzed, music drifted from open windows, and the streets teemed with energy. But even in the midst of all this vibrancy, I felt disconnected. My steps slowed as I glanced around one last time, taking in the tourist shops and the occasional artist sketching caricatures on the sidewalk. Still, nothing.

Frustration prickled at my skin. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. When I opened my eyes again, I froze mid-step.

She stood on a balcony a few stories above me, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the room behind her. Her head was tilted upward, as if catching the glimmer of the city’s lights on her skin. Her hair moved with the breeze, framing a face so serene it made my chest tighten. The faint flush on her cheeks, the way her lips curved ever so slightly—it was as if she belonged to this moment, this city, more than anyone I’d ever seen.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I drank in the sight of her, committing every detail to memory. Then, a voice called her from inside, and she turned, disappearing into the room. I waited, hoping she’d reappear, but the balcony remained empty.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to move. My steps were quicker now, my heart racing with something I couldn’t quite name. By the time I returned to my hotel room, the feeling had morphed into a need—a compulsion. I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed my charcoal pencils, and approached the easel I’d set up by the window.

The lines came easily, flowing from memory to paper as if she’d etched herself into my mind. The curve of her lips, the slope of her nose, the way her hair had danced in the wind—each stroke brought her closer to life. I worked with a fervor I hadn’t felt in weeks, adjusting, refining, until the figure on the page mirrored the one that had captivated me.

I stepped back, studying the sketch. She was there, but she wasn’t. I’d captured her image but not the essence—not yet. The fire was back, though, and I felt alive for the first time. In what felt like forever.

rubbed my eye, trying to wipe away the sleepiness threatening to overtake me as I leaned against the wall with the rest of my group. Whoever decided that 4 a.m. was a good time to fly needs to be smacked. Hard. My eyelids started to get heavy, and I began to nod off when a voice called over the loudspeaker announcing that first class for our flight could begin boarding.

I groaned and smacked my head against the wall, wincing at the dull throb that now pulsed in my temple.

"What's wrong with you?" my roommate asked, poking my side from the chair she sat in.

"I didn’t get much sleep last night," I grumbled, swatting her hand away and rubbing the sore spot on my forehead. In reality, I didn’t sleep at all. My mind kept thinking about the beautiful stranger in that photo. Was he a tourist? What was his name? Was he that beautiful up close? These were the questions that kept me awake until we had to head to the airport, where I now stood miserably as the wealthy boarded the plane first.

"Screw the rich..." I muttered under my breath, running both hands down my face. Once it was our turn to board, my group got in line. I handed the stewardess my boarding pass. She scanned it, frowned slightly, then scanned it again, her brows furrowing. A pit grew in my stomach.

"Oh no," I thought as her eyes darted over the words on her screen. She turned her gaze to me and spoke. "I’m sorry, miss, but it seems we double-booked your seat..."

I felt like I was going to throw up. My face must have turned even paler as she continued typing on her keyboard.

"But it looks like I can bump you up to business class, if that’s alright with you," she said.

My sleep-deprived brain barely processed her words. I just stared at her for a moment as she added, "Free of charge, of course, for the trouble."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, unable to form words. She printed a new boarding pass, handed it to me, and waved me through. I found our professor and gave him the update. He gave me a thumbs-up before pulling on his headphones and lowering his eye mask.

I made my way to the business class section, searching for my seat. It was in the middle row, meaning I had another seat next to mine. But when I saw the amount of space I had, I didn’t care—as long as my neighbor didn’t mind if I snored a little. I plopped down into my seat after putting away my carry-on. Letting out a sigh, I pulled the provided blanket over myself, turned to one side, and drifted off to sleep before we even took off.

I woke up to the hostess asking if I needed anything to eat or drink. Blinking my eyes, I regained consciousness and asked for water and a snack. Once I had both, I sat up a little and took in the seat I was in. It was almost like a mini cubicle with a small folding table and a TV screen. To my left was the divider between me and my neighbor, who was busy drawing something on a sketchpad. I couldn’t see his face clearly because of the mask, hat, and headphones he wore.

My attention shifted back to my snacks as I pulled out my laptop to get started on more editing. At some point, I fell asleep again but woke up before they came around to deliver more food.

"Thank you," I whispered to the steward, who smiled and nodded before moving on.

"That’s a beautiful picture," an accented voice said behind me. I whipped around to see my neighbor looking at my laptop.

"Oh, thank you," I said shyly, setting my food down. I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest from his compliment as I continued to work. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him shuffle and take off his headphones and hat, but I averted my eyes before he caught me peeking. To distract myself, I clicked on the picture of the stranger and zoomed in slightly.

My neighbor made a choked sound. When I looked back at him, his wide eyes were glued to my screen.

"Are you okay?" I asked. He looked at me, then back at the screen.

"That’s me," he said, pointing to the photo.

My gaze darted to the picture and then back to him, my eyes narrowing. "What are you—" But before I finished, he took off his mask, and the words died in my throat.

Here, next to me on this very plane, was the reason I couldn’t sleep last night. I sat there, mouth open in shock, as he looked at me with an odd expression.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

He nodded. "Why do you have my picture?"

"I wasn’t taking YOUR picture." I clicked to expand the photo. "I was taking a picture of the Eiffel Tower."

His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed red. "Oh..." His voice was soft as he apologized.

I nodded, and we sat in awkward silence for a moment.

"What are you drawing?" I asked, trying to ease the tension, pointing at his sketchpad.

He blushed more, tilting the pad toward me. "It’s just a sketch of a woman I saw last night," he muttered, avoiding my gaze. The whole time we’d talked, he hadn’t fully looked at me. I wondered if there was something wrong with my face. But when my eyes roamed over the drawing, I tilted my head in confusion.

"She looks an awful lot like me," I chuckled, knowing that wasn’t possible. But his eyes snapped to me, then back to his drawing. His mouth opened in wonder.

"Were you staying at Hotel de la Tour Eiffel?" he asked.

My laughter died. "Yeah... How did you—" My eyes widened as we both looked at his drawing. It was me.

"Holy crap," I muttered as he shook his head in disbelief. We looked at each other again.

"I can’t believe I found you," we said in unison.

We spent the rest of the flight chatting quietly about everything and anything. Soon, we were landing, and a wave of sadness hit me. I’d never see him again. Once it was our row’s turn to exit, I grabbed my things and turned to him.

"It was nice to meet you, Hyunjin," I said with a soft smile before slowly making my way down the ramp and into the terminal. As I stood off to the side waiting for my group, I heard my name being called. I looked around to see Hyunjin waving at me.

When he reached me, he blushed, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry about that. I just..." He took a deep breath. "Can I have your number?"

I gave him a shy smile and nodded. The smile he gave me made butterflies flutter in my stomach, and I thought to myself, I might have brought home something better than pictures.

[kidflashimpulse]

Some of the descriptions in your latest chapter were so graphic I couldn't resist drawing them.

Wasabe, i don’t know if u realise how you are singlehandedly carrying my whole year by blessing us with your incredible talent o m g what have i done to deserve seeing this i must have saved a nation in my past life, i’m actually blown away

THAT BARTHOLOMEW SCENE OMG this is literally everything <33 the way u captured his mood and air of nonchalance, insane. (he is serving face here too let’s go lets go)

AND THE SCENE WITH ZEEK AND JAY OMG absolutely hilarious how u portrayed zeek here it’s actual perfection like u can tell him and jay r in totally different worlds in this scene 😭 (they’re both so cute here i can’t)

thank u so much for reading my latest AAIT chapter and sharing this with us ! ur gorgeous work is such an inspiration as always <333

[quinnyundertow]

Eng is not my first language sorry 4 any Mistakes. I NEED TO BOW DOWN, GET ON MY KNEES AND KISS THE FLOOR YOU JUST STEP ON. YOU WROTE ONE IF NOT THE BEST READER INSERTS WHERE READER GOES TO SAVE EVERYBODY.

Not only that, time travel? We get multiple timelines that later get connected? I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THIS TIME TO MAKE GETO NOT GO ON A CRISIS TO KILL ALL MONKEYS????

Naoya is a dick and i loved both parts when he was handdled by the reader and then when Gojo and Geto teamed up for revenge.

AND EXCUSME BABY CHOSO? THEN WE GET HIM IN FULL BODY? DID HE DO IT BECAUSE HE FELT THE EXTREME NEED TO PROTECT US? IM CRYING?

The small interaction with Toji got me all blushed OMG i cant wait to see reader and megumi meet!!

OK AND LISTEN, WHEN YOU SAID YOU LOVED JUNPEI TOO , OMG IT SHOWED IN THIS FIC. TBH IM SO HAPPY WITH HOW DIFFERENT IT IS FROM THE USUAL "reader gets into the plotline and changes all" NONO I LOVE IT. YUTA GOING BACK TO SAVE US FROM KENJAKU, LISTEN I CANT DRAW TO SAVE MY LIFE BUT I IMAGINED HIM ALONE FACING THE KAMO STATE, THE NIGHT SKY HAS SOME PURPLE TONES ON IT AND THEN HE CALLS OUT RIKA WITH THAT SAME EXPRESSION HE MAKES IN THE MANGA WHEN HE SAYS HE WILL KILL ITADORI

And oooh boy, i dont care who end game is. I love ALL OF THIS. TBH READER IS LIKE A GOD BUT HAS A DRAW BACK THAT MAKES EVERYTHING JUST EVEN MORE LIKEABLE.

OK AND BABY TOGE ? TELLING THE FUCKER TO SHUT UP? I LOVE IT? BABY TOGE WAS SO CUTE AND A SUPRISED AND CUTE ADD!!

OMG I CANT- I JUST CANT EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR STORY. I WOULD LOVE TO BASICALLY LEAVE A COMMENT IN EVERY CHAPTER AND SECTION LIKE WATTPAD HAHA BECAUSE IM JUST THAT MUCH IN LOVE RN.

Im not screaming just super ecxited and happy this fic ecxist. Thx a lot 4 it.

😭😭😭😭😭 ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you, you are so kind and I am so glad you enjoy the fic so far! I honestly love Naoya as a character/villain and he will be making another appearance very soon 🤫

😭😭 Chocho is already so attached to reader and he just got his body. I can’t wait for reader to go back so she can give him all the love he deserves. Toji and Megumi will be very sooooon.

YOU MADE ME WANT TO SOBBBB WHEN YOU SAID MY LOVE FOR JUNPEI SHOWS. Agjrbelfhebskabrsk he deserves the whole world (they all do 😭) and I’m sooooo so happy you can feel that.

HEHHEHE I love Yuta vs Kamo Estate 😭🥹 One of my fav arcs (can a fanfic have arcs?? Lmao) I listened to “Holding out for a Hero” from Bonnie Tyler like 10000x when writing/thinking of that scene lmao. I adore Yuta if I had to pick my fav JJK character it’s him (I mean I have a fucking tatt of him 😭❤️) So anytime someone mentions they like this scene it makes me giddy.

Endgame is literally everyone 😭 yall think im playing but it’s reverse harem and I have a solution that will make that shit as realistic as possible.

Baby Toge/Adult Toge has my whole heart he’s so funny and endearing and I just wanna squeeze him 🥹

Thank you so much for this message. I adored reading it and it makes me so happy to hear my work made you happy. Especially with the new depressing leaks I think we all need a little positive delulu. (😭 me especially) I APPRECIATE YOU AND THE ENCOURAGEMENT MWAH!💋

[themagicmc]

I’m glad you liked the last one!! I’m biased, but mayhaps: ballet dancer mc for the dorm leaders? Gratzi!

Welcome back darling sorry this took too long. I have been neglecting my duties as a writer. 😭

———————————————

Dorm leaders x reader

———————————————

Riddle

- Riddle doesn’t really see the point in the art but if it makes you happy then he’s all for it

- he makes sure you have all your equipment and plenty of water

- he will be strict with your schedule as too not over exert yourself. But not too strict.

- I think he might of created a few rules just for you -~-

-but he’s doing this all because he loves you and wants you to continue your love of ballet

8/10 a good boy who’s worried for your well-being

Leona

- He really doesn’t understand this at all

- all the spinning and the leaps just makes his head hurt

-but because this man drinks respect women juice every day he won’t say shit. (Cause you would beat his ass)

-does actually come to a few of your performances and does throw a few compliments to the dance.

- though he does wish you would just come and nap with him

7/10 only because he’s slept through some of your performances

Azul

- pleeeaaassseeee dance at the Mostro lounge

- literally the man who will try to get his lover work for him so they aren’t apart from him anymore

- would absolutely love and I mean LOVE to come to your performances. I mean this man gets front row seats and everything.

-I feel he would advertise you working there to bring in more buisness

(I mean man’s gotta work)

- All in all pretty respectable

- but I wouldn’t put it past him to draw up a contract that would make you dance at the Mostro

-I’m giving this boy an 6/10 because of the fact he would want to gain some profit form your dances

Kalim

-I would like to think that this boy would fall even more in love with you if you were able to do some form of dance

-I headcannon that form a young age Kalim was taught to do many forms of dancing including ballet.

-So ask him to join during a private practice he can help you!

-Even if he wasn’t dancing I think he would be there just to support you and tell you how much he adores the way you dance ever so gracefully

-Sweet boy 10/10 would recommend because of how good he is

Vil

-Oh Vil…

-Must we go through this again the man is obsessed with the thought of beating beautiful. How could he not think this dance was of the utmost perfection.

-I’m pretty sure he has designed MULTIPLE costumes you have worn.

-Definitely comes to performances every. Single. One. He’s not missing the love of his life performing the most beautiful thing he could ever see.

-I think he has a set schedule for you of when to practice and how to keep yourself healthy enough to perform.

9/10 only because of the one outfit he made where it was made entirely of SEQUINS

Sequins suck

Idia

-You remind him of this one anime character who is a redhead who will tune into a kind of bird when embarrassed and is trying to save the love of her life by returning parts of his soul back to him!

(Please tell me at least ONE of you know which anime I’m talking about)

-I think if he WERE to go to any performances he’d be standing in the back in the shadows so that way no one would see him. (His hair gives him away though)

-He probably has designed some pretty good light fixtures that you have used to spice up your performances. Heck even the judges wished to know who was behind the spectacular display.

8/10 only because the man literally can’t even show his face while he’s at the performance. But he tries his beats because he’s gotta love his S/O

Malleus

-Like Kalim I would like to think that he too was trained in the art of dance. Though I don’t think ballet would have been one of them

-I’m pretty sure this giant of a man has shown up randomly in your practice room just to watch. (Though he’s scared the crap out of you multiple times)

-This fae brings you flowers very time you have a performance just so he can give them to you at the end. (Cue blushing S/O)

-I don’t think he would sit way in the back where he wasn’t noticed but I think he would have one of those high up seats that sit on the wall. Just so he can have a Birds Eye view of his lover.

-10/10 I have no words for how this man will bend over backwards for you and I mean it.

[sawlvr]

Arcane OC Sims

sims because i can’t draw to save my life thank you very much

black haired is charlie, red haired is rose

charlie is also meant to have a left nose ring, but the cc of the nose ring and her eyelashes interfere with each other so she cannot have it in the sims 😞

i would be so blessed if i could draw honestly 😞

obviously their faces wouldn’t be ominously symmetrical but the sims doesn’t give me a choice so 😭

[ozimagines]

Do have any thoughts on Miguel being a parent? Loved your Chico parent ideas!

AHHH yessss! You could tell after Miguel truly understood what it meant to bring a life into the world that he wanted to be a dad.

(Also thank you so much🥹❤️ Love me some Papa Chico)

Miguel Alvarez as a Parent would include…

After Miguel lost his son, he was broken. Broken because he knew it was his fault.

He was seventeen when he got Maritza pregnant. Senior Prom.

At sixteen he was running with the local gangs. At eighteen he was in prison. In those two years there was unprotected sex and drugs and violence. Anything to give him that high.

When his kid is born, there’s a break in the clouds; a reason to change.

Only too little too late. 💔

When he gets a chance to do it again, he does it for his son.

Miguel is not a neglectful father by any means. If anything he’s a little helicopter-y at first.

He encourages his kids into extracurriculars; anything to keep them off the streets.

If they play sports, he’s at every game/match. 🏀⚽️

If they do theatre, he’s got a playbill in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. 🎭

Miguel is surprisingly artistic and I think his kids would love the drawings he does on their lunch notes.

He packs their lunch, doesn’t matter who his partner is. (If he has one)

Like season one Miguel wouldn’t do this but season six totally would; his kids have bento boxes and sometimes they have themes or colors for the day. 🧃

Purple bentos with ube cookies and grapes and jelly sandwiches.

Finds exotic snacks and stuff for them to try: different instant ramens and chocolates and whatnot.

“Today’s theme is Egypt!”

Watches Veggie Tales with them a lot. Knows all the words to “I Love My Duck”.

A Snoodle’s Tale always makes him cry.

Keeps a stash of different jellies and peanut butters to make the perfect PB and J for his kids.

“One strawberry and smooth, one grape and chunky, one…”

Kind of a parent who doesn’t mind picky eaters and just rolls with it.

Makes pancakes in different shapes.

“Smiley face coming up!”😭❤️‍🩹

He can’t tell his kids enough how much school is worth.

God knows he can’t help with their homework but he always tries

Gets his kids involved in academic pursuits

Makes flash cards with little drawings; basically takes the classes with his kids.

They’re bilingual too; he speaks Spanish at home to help them

Is a stay at home dad/works from home

When he’s working, he puts on Law and Order, and his older kids like to watch while he works.

Miguel knows all the endings and accidentally spoils it often😂

Gets them gifts on every holiday. They wake up to flowers on Valentine’s Day, chocolate bunnies on Easter, and even cinnamon rolls on Groundhog’s Day.

He just looks for a reason to let them know they’re loved.

Didn’t hear that growing up. His dad was in prison, his mom was kind of a hardass. So he doesn’t want there to be any confusion for his kids.

When they get in trouble at school, he overreacts. It scares him that they might make the same mistakes he did.

“I’m saving ten years of your life. Don’t fuck this up.”

When his kids get As in school, he has a full on celebration at home, even if they’re used to it. 🎉🥳

When his kids are bullied, his heart aches.

He remembers how the Latinos in prison treated him.

“I know what you’re going through, kid. I can’t tell you it always gets better, but you’ll find people who appreciate you, and those other people will kind of just fade away.”❤️‍🩹

If his kid comes out to him (sexuality or gender wise) he’s as supportive as he can be.

“I don’t know much about this stuff, kiddo. But… you’re my kid and I’m here for you.”

He respects their pronouns and their significant other’s pronouns. It may take him a minute but he’s trying.

His kids’ favorite thing to do with their father is the dishes; he turns on loud music and they sing and dance as they get their chores done.

He’s not especially strict, but when he puts his foot down he’s immovable.

His kids disagree sometimes but knows it comes from a place of love.

Unlike Chico, he’s fairly transparent with his kids about his past.

When he has to have the drug talk, he admits he used and it was the most confusing time of his life. He tells them he knows they’re going to make their own decisions, but hopes his honesty deters them a little.

He hopes if he’s honest with them, they feel like they can go to him with everything.

Has a policy where they can calm him drunk and as long as they don’t try to drive they come home without punishment.

Kind of a parent who allows his kids to go to the birthday party but not sleep over. He just gets nervous.

He holds “sleepovers” every weekend night when he and his kids set up the living room with snacks and pillows and blanket forts and watch movies all night.🎥

Goes to classes as an adult to get his GED/degree. He just wants his kids ti be proud of him.

And they are. His kids brag about him all the time. How their dad beat drugs and prison. How their dad survived.

“Youre so hard on yourself, daddy. We’re proud of you.”🥰

His mom loves her grandkids. She’s an intimidating abuela but she loves those damn kids.

When they get sick, Miguel takes off work and stays with them all day. He makes them chicken soup, looking up a recipe on his phone, plays Disney movies all day no matter how old they are, and gives them snuggles when they have a fever.

He adopts a dog for them and names her/him Julie/Donald.

The dog eats like a damn queen/king, and he enjoys preparing fun pupp-reciation treats for her/him.

When his mom offers to watch the kids while he goes on vacation, he spends the whole time calling home and asking about them. 😅

Like Chico has the Tickle Police, Miguel has Boo Boo Bear; a cheap stuffed bear he cut open the backside to and stuffed an ice pack in. 🧸

He tells people as long as his kids are healthy and happy, he’s happy.

When his kids accomplish anything, he’s in the audience, and they thank him.

They thank him for all the hours of care he’s given them.

The unconditional support.

“My Dad is my biggest hero, because he really truly did get out of Oz.”❤️❤️❤️

Bonus: When his kids are old enough to date, Miguel is actually really nice to their significant others. Like, he’ll invite them for dinner, learn things about them, and tell them to call him Dad or Mr. Miguel.

[funkii-fox]

Should I block the French Guy?

This mf has the audacity to pretend to agree that AI “art” is wrong, then STILL is using AI to generate images of his ocs. I posted the quote of Araki condemning AI “art” and this fucking guy has the audacity to like it, even tho I had him in mind while posting it.

I was like “yk, I havent seen this guy’s story in a while because it’s 100% hateful, maybe I should check to see if he still does.” The most recent one I could find was from September 8th in a highlight abt ocs, but that’s not to say he hasn’t used it since and just didn’t save it to highlight. Make of that what you will, but I choose to believe he’s still using AI. I remember once I even had a convo telling him to stop using AI, but bro just went “ok” and still used AI BRUH🗿

But guess what else I saw: he likes Jimmy 😭😭😭 this was 100% expected tho. He once changed his pfp to Curly and i was like “your ass is NOT Curly ur Jimmy bro.” He posted 3 whole stories abt the community judging ppl that like Jimmy. He compared it to how ppl like DIO and said its bc he has pretty privilege and not Jimmy and thats why ppl judge them. I won’t lie; yes, most ppl like DIO bc hes pretty and charming, but at least he has some types of redeeming qualities. Jimmy is just 100% asshole. Every scene you see of him is he’s being a jerk or a fuck up that says “i can fix this” but actually can’t. Mouthwashing is SO un-nuanced in the way you’re supposed to hate Jimmy, it’s amazing rlly. We’re not even shown much of his personal life or other aspects of his personality; unlike other antagonists like Kira or Diavolo.

Now, am I gonna throw rocks at your window for liking Jimmy? No. Do what you want. But, i will psychoanalyze you and conclude that you like him either for the abusive dynamic or you like him bc he’s like you. This guy 110% likes Jimmy bc he’s relatable.

Simply looking at it face value right now, the way this guy is so OBSESSED with other people is insane. 90% of my conversations w this guy has been bruja arianna, snerufu, antis, women who make self insert ocs, or his arch nemesis Fay that he just can’t stop stalking. It reminds me of how Jimmy was obsessed and jealous of Curly’s success. He is also negative all the time. Even when making a joke, the punchline is always someone else or a cheap horny joke that comes across as a 7th grader. It reminds me of how Jimmy HAD to take Curly saying “i want more in life” the wrong way. It even manifests in the way bro had Curly as his pfp; because he wants to be like Curly.

We met from me shitting on bruja arianna. My criticism came from logic and a want to make change in the community, but it’s clear now that his criticism comes from hate and insecurity. He’s so passionate about hate, i think it’s the only thing he’s passionate about. He’s not even passionate enough about his own ocs to draw them himself. He’s so hateful he makes fun of women in the fandom for damn near anything they do, as if millions of ppl don’t also see him as a woman and as if he never lived as a woman. Then he hides all of his edginess as “im French lol we’re just angry :p” be so serious

His only other characteristic is being hypocritical. This guy “doesn’t deserve hate” but is constantly negative all the time. This guys gets upset at shit on a screen just to search it up more. This guy HATES bruja arianna for mocking trans men, yet all his male ocs are “androgynous” no mf they look like girls.

Chat, I don’t care anymore about being stalked. I’m stronger now. I have better things to worry about now that I have a life. I don’t care if he talks a lot of shit nor do I care if he “exposes” me for some made up bs. He can have a tantrum all he wants; i have better things to care about

Poll whether I should block him under the cut.

[phantomram-b00]

So I realize I never did an introduction before, untillll now as spooky season is here so why not make-

Boo!

Gotcha >:) but as I was saying, I thought why not make one now, (and maybe one day I might make those meet the artist, let see)

Soooo, spooky to meet you, I’m Phantomram…BOO

Sorry had to again. But you can call me Phantom or Ram; whichever you prefer or all together, hey, the world is your oysters. Or ostrich. Just a shy yet very talkative ghost that love to talk about good omens. If you ever wanted to talk, you can just please be mindful, I am shy and not the best with conversations but I’m happy to talk. And uh, if you ever want to ask me question whether to get to know be better or ask anything about good omens, Ahh you can ask in the ask my anything box ^^ but I will reveal info here starting now!

About me:

-Age: 21 (or as my family member say, I’m old.)

-Zodiac: I’m an April Aries!

-MBTI: INFP

-🇵🇷

-height: 5’3 (I’mma fun-sized ghost)

- just to add as I wasn’t comfortable at the time but now I am, I’m autistic ^v^

My scary interest:

-GOOD OMENS! (I love this show and also the book as I’m slowly reading it. I’ve watch this back in 2019/2020? And I love it and waited when the second season came and it did and now I’m loving this show and now going to wait patiently for season 3. But for now, this is my main hyperfixation, and I can’t get enough of it. I love it. But I promise I do have other interest to so let continue 😅)

- Art/drawing/(sometimes) writing

- magic/fantasy

- music (my music taste is haha complicate.)

- books (I love them, I wish my attention span a bit better but I do love a good read.)

- horror movies

- dnd

- oversized jackets! (Specifically the one with the zippers) or trench coats.

- mythology.

- Halloween

-Broadway/Movies/Shows

Shows/movies/books/games I love:

- Good omens (love love love!)

- Little shops of horrors

- Soul eater

- Coraline (I do wanna read the book tho)

- Star Wars (I seriously still need to catch up to watch Ahsoka aahhhh! 😭)

- Transformers

- Sally Face

- Percy Jackson (haven’t finished reading but I do like it so far and I can’t wait for the show coming up)

-murder drones

- FNAF (yes I’m excited for the movie coming out, I’ve been waiting for this movie since middle school-)

- MK (mortal Kombat)

- owl house/Amphibia/ducktales/Svtfoe

-TMNT (edit: because I forgot to add this Idek how I forgot this)

And more that I can’t think of. I can’t collect them all, I’m not ash Ketchum or any Pokémon trainer. I’m just a ghost on the internet let me have this.

Four random fact about me:

- when it came to doing the MBTI test, my introvert was almost 100%.

- despite being Latine/Latinx I can’t speak Spanish to save my life 😅

- my mom once banned coraline because it was “too scary”

- I learn about zodiac because of animal crossing of all things

“Can I use the ask me anything?”/dm you?: yes! You can ^^ I know some used it (for the ask me anything at least), but if you want to ask me anything go right ahead. I’m happy to answer (almost) anything you like. As for the dm, sure, especially if you’re a mutual I have here, you can ^v^, just all I ask is please be respectful and be mindful. That literally all I ask from you :))

However what I do not allow on this page and imma make this very clear: if you are racist, homophobic, transphobic or just bottom line don’t care about humans rights or any rights at all. Please go and do fucking better and leave me and my fellow ghostly pals alone. Please and thank you very much.

‼️BOUNDRIES: please do not use my ama for donations ask as scammers are using this tactic. If you disrespect this, I will ignore or delete your ask. Please use my AMA for anything else. Any questions. Please don’t cross this boundaries ‼️

Plz go Donate to RAINN

And uhh, I guess that’s all. Have a spooky Friday 🤭

[feyresdaughter]

A Court of Wings and Ruin, chapter 60:

“You do know,” Ianthe tittered from outside the cottage, her steps slowing into a walk, “that we’ll have to kill whoever is inside there with you. Selfish of you, Feyre.”

She's so fucking stupid it hurts

“What are you,” the Weaver breathed

Yeah Feyre, WHAT are you

The Weaver’s dress rustled as she crept closer in the gloom. “Who did you bring, little wolf? Who did you bring to me?”

The way Stryga calls Feyre little wolf 😭😭

“Dinner,” I said to the Weaver , whirling around the door— to its outside face. And let go of the handle.

I saw the ball of faelight that Ianthe lifted to illuminate the room. Saw the horrible face of the Weaver, that mouth of stumped teeth opening wide with delight and unholy hunger. A death-god of old—starved for life. With a beautiful priestess before her. I was already hurtling for the trees when the guards and Ianthe began screaming.

Hehehehe die

I reached for the first one, but a dry, bony hand settled on my wrist. “Your magic …,” it rasped, “is spent. Do not … waste it.” - “I can save you.”

Feyre would have spent the last of her powers to save it 😭

“What— what can I do?” The words turned thin—brittle. “Stay …,” it breathed. “Stay … until the end.”

“Then why come at all?” - “You … were kind. You … fought your fear. You were … kind,” it said again. I began crying. “And you were kind to me,” I said , not brushing away the tears that fell onto its bloodied, tattered robe. “Thank you— for helping me. When no one else would.”

NO ONE TALK TO ME

A small smile on that lipless mouth. “Feyre Archeron.” A labored breath. “I told you— to stay with the High Lord. And you did.” Its warning to me that first time we’d met. “You— you meant Rhys.” All this time. All this time—“Stay with him … and live to see everything righted.” - “Yes. I did— and it was.” - “No— not yet. Stay with him.” - “I will.” I always would.

“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered. The Suriel— it was a title, a name for its kind. That small smile again. “Does it matter, Cursebreaker?” - “Yes.”

Sarah is aware of the lack of names in this series and she's baiting us

“You should go now. Worse things—worse things are coming. The blood … draws them.” I squeezed its bony hand, the leathery skin growing colder. “I can stay a while longer.”

“Feyre Archeron,” the Suriel said again, gazing at the leafy canopy, the sky peeking through it. A painful inhale. “A request.” I leaned close. “Anything.” Another rattling breath. “Leave this world … a better place than how you found it.”

And as its chest rose and stopped altogether, as its breath escaped in one last sigh, I understood why the Suriel had come to help me, again and again. Not just for kindness … but because it was a dreamer. And it was the heart of a dreamer that had ceased beating inside that monstrous chest. I laid my head on its chest, on that now-silent vault of bone, and wept. I wept and wept, until there was a strong hand at my shoulder.

But I knew the voice as Helion said softly to me, “Come, Feyre. It is not safe here. Come.” I lifted my head. Helion was there, features grim, his brown skin ashen. “I can’t leave it here like this,” I said, refusing to let go of its hand. I didn’t care how Helion had found me. Why he’d found me. He looked to the fallen creature, mouth tightening. “I’ll take care of it.” Burn it— with the power of the sun.

SHE CAN'T LEAVE IT THERE FOR THE MONSTERS OF THE MIDDLE TO TAKE IT

“Wait.” Helion obeyed. “Give me your cloak. Please.” Brows narrowing, Helion unfastened the rich crimson cloak pinned at each shoulder. I didn’t bother to explain as I covered the Suriel’s body with the fine fabric. Far finer than the hateful rags Ianthe had given it. I tucked the High Lord’s cloak gently around its broad shoulders, its bony arms. “Thank you,” I said one last time to the Suriel, and stepped away.

Suri's last cloak 😭

“Come,” Helion said again, extending a hand. “Let’s get you to the camp.” It was the kindness in his voice that cracked my chest. But I took Helion’s hand. As warm light whisked us away, I could have sworn that the pile of ashes was stirred by a phantom wind.

[memeteenz-main]

about me -> an intro to the meme that is phoebe

my svt blog -> @memeteenz

• i'm phoebe (as in buffay)

• born in the year 2000 but i don’t think this is my first run in life

• she/her but any pronouns are ok, i don’t take it as misgendering me (if anything your confusion will flatter me)

• i’m east asian in ethnicity

• english is my first language!

• i like anime, comics and webtoons, and any kind of novel in general

• i can’t play pvp games to save my life

• i like all the colors 🌈

• drawing fan/art that i don’t post online because it’s not good enough for public scrutiny yet

• i draw a lot of OCs and insert them in existing film and animation media (shamelessly)

• besides english i speak basic japanese and i can sing word for word several spanish and norsk songs (bc they’re bangers even if i barely know what they mean)

• i love emojis 🤩

• favorite food: 🍊🍌🍉🍇🍓🍑🥭🥝🍅🥐🥖🍜🥡🍣🥟🥮🍰

• favorite emojis: 👽👾🧚🏼‍♀️🦊🐻‍❄️🐮🦉🐝🦋🐞🪲🐙🦑🪼🦦🍄🌸🌼🪐🌈☂️🌊🎨🎧🏞️🌠🌌💎🧿🔭🧸🎀📚♻️🌀

• i also have flags that i find pretty but i’m stopping here lol

• i am aware that i may be on the spectrum but it isn’t clinically diagnosed so i don’t think too deeply about it

• i love olivia rodrigo’s songs 💜 i listen to her a lot and also lexi jayde, sundial, nessa barrett, umi 🎧 i like mellow rap and math rock too!

• i used to be wary of kpop before but when i found out about seventeen i slipped into it so smoothly they’re just super talented and can’t-breathe-funny 😆😮‍💨😂🤣😭 they’re the only kpop group i like tbh

• anyway back to me

• SCRABBLE IS MY FAVORITE BOARD GAME

• i like knowing about earthly creatures (so i can also know which ones i need to just leave the fuck alone bc knowing me i would have a hard time hesitating on getting my face all up on it to observe, especially tiny insects)

• i don’t really have any commonly-known fears besides running out of food and water that’s my biggest fear i think like i delve deep into learning about water management and wastewater treatment and growing my own food and whatnot in case something bad happens

• yes so moving on

• i have the deepest, most compulsive urges to be funny for myself i swear i crack the funniest jokes whenever i talk to myself

• my friends tell me i’m the most hyper introvert ever and that i talk a lot (i love them)

• i think that’s it I TALK TOO MUCH

bye

[xxang3l-trapxx]

Hello everyone

I am Ahmed, 8 years old, I am writing to you from my little heart that carries pain and fatigue. My mother, my brother Adam and I live in Egypt far from my father who is still in Gaza. We came here because I suffer from excess electricity in the brain and need surgery in the other right eye and my mother suffers from a blood clot in the brain that needs lifelong treatment and a rapid heartbeat. Life has become very difficult for us, and we have no one here to stand by us.

We live in a small rented apartment with a monthly rent of $ 120, but we are unable to pay the rent or buy treatment. My mother always tries to be strong for me and my little brother, but she also needs urgent treatment. Sometimes we sleep trying to hide the pain and hunger, but the truth is that we need a caring hand to help us in this ordeal.

I am a little child, and I can only write these words for everyone who can help us. Even a small donation can change our lives.

I'm afraid 😭😭 of losing my mother due to previous strokes. I saved her life from death by providing the necessary health medications. The donation link is here, and I pray that someone will be sent to have mercy on us and ease this burden on us. Only God knows how much we need your support, and your prayers are always with us. Thank you to everyone who reads this message and contributes to drawing a smile on our little faces https://gofund.me/05447279

I can’t donate but I can boost!

[boysnberriespie]

I hate the way art has been very up and down for my this year 😭 i feel like I keep rapidly switching between “omg I can see the improvement and I’m having fun, I’m a machine!!” And then “I can’t draw a human face or body to save my life”