#I’ve been working on this all night

[lucradiss]

The ring whispers, but everything is as it should be.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny gets her sleepy FNAF guys mixed up,,

[viarayy01-blog]

just waiting for it all to get better!!!!

[care666bear]

[painted-kneecaps]

In an alternate universe, Powder gets caught and left behind when Jayce’s lab explodes. Realizing that she will likely be shipped off to some dismal prison or orphanage, Jayce argues that keeping her around will lure back the real culprits of the attack- she’s just a child, after all, and nobody was really harmed- besides, somebody has to keep an eye on her, and they were his crystals. What’s the harm in letting her tag along?

In an alternate universe, Viktor notices her genius and takes her under his wing, consults her on his experiments and encourages her to undertake her own. She becomes an expected presence in their lab, tinkering away at her own projects and offering a fresh perspective when Jayce and Viktor get stuck.

In an alternate universe, they notice her despair and betrayal when her sister doesn’t come back for her. They notice when she breaks down, her grief and rage, the internal violence her mind wreaks on her, and they search for a cure. They get her help and medicine, and if need be, they talk her through her delusions with cool, scientific detachment, explaining what is going on in her brain until it doesn’t scare her anymore. If, in the process of helping her, they both begin to reconcile with their own self destructive tendencies- well, that’s just a convenient side effect.

In an alternate universe, she is understood and listened to and valued, and she is not a weapon or a tool or a jinx. She is respected for her brilliance, and her illness is acknowledged and not feared, and her genius is put toward progress and not violence. She never quite fits outside the lab- she is a Zaunite, after all, and she clings to that identity with teeth and claws- and though Jayce never quite understands, Viktor always defends her to him.

In an alternate universe, she builds Viktor braces and prosthetics and mobility aids as his condition declines, new and improved with every model. They tweak the designs together, and their witty banter as they work staves off the threat of impending mortality, just for a while. Hextech products begin to sport animal motifs, a phenomenon that neither Jayce nor Viktor feel the need to explain. Their lab is covered in graffiti, which they both complain about, but never actually discourage.

In an alternate universe, Vi finds her sister, and she is eccentric, but not broken. She is supported and cared for and hailed as the protege of the two most brilliant scientists alive. She is angry and confused and betrayed, yes- but she is not alone, and she is not afraid.

And they can work with that.

[cowboyinternist]

patches and stuff that i made (and didn’t!) for my wtnv jacket :3

little project Ive have that’s been in progress for a couple years :3 more details below the cut

glow cloud patch, this is just scrap fleece that i colored with old copic markers and hand sewed :) also tiny animals + beads that i stuck on there with fabric glue. the glitter is this holographic glitter paint that i love? i use it on everything.

(left) void patch is just canvas + paint marker and safety pins. the pin above it is from the attic tour, and the pin on the collar is from the haunting of night vale ^_^ the babydoll parts are earrings but i don’t usually wear earrings like that so i repurposed them

(right) eyeball pin is polymer clay and made by me, angel pin is from ultrainfinite on instagram :) little name tag is a repurposed gift card that i just painted and glued over :3 the cecil drawing is meant to resemble me a little more than the cecil i typically draw lol.

patch and sheriff badge are from the wtnv merch site, cowboy cat pin is from pinkgabbercat on instagram. the fake flower pins are technically for a different project but this is their home until i’m ready to use them for the other thing. the little eyeball emblems are made from a linocut stamp that i created a few years ago for a different project

patch for the back!! i rlly love how this came out, the dark purple is an old pillowcase and the moon is the same scrap fleece that i used for the glow cloud. my hand sewing ia kinda fuckass but it adds idk. plus glow in the dark stars!

i made the king city patch a while ago but it’s just canvas and paint pen too i think. plus fly pins that i also made!! little desert landscape button is magazine paper scraps. the cactus and house pins are from the tours i mentioned above, and unfortunately i cannot remember where i got the possum patch :( this is the back right panel of the jacket, for the back left panel i wanted to make a dark owl records patch eventually

i hope to have a little something from all the books on here at some point! something for each of the villains too (which u can see i’ve already kinda started with the beagle patch in the very first image)

this project is still super unfinished!! i have a desert bluffs jacket too that is also still in the works, so i’ll maybe post about that soon too!!

[myokk]

soft🥹

[nina-ya]

GOOD MORNING!!! HAPPIEST OF THURSDAYS!! The week is almost over!! We just have to push through a bit more!!

[chaosduckies]

Nose Hugs ❤️

Whattt these two again? (I can’t stop doodling them I love their dynamic so much help-) Again, I think the tiny is going to be smaller, but I can’t draw that small, nor am I an artist sooo… TwT

The tiny’s wings finally healed up after months and is just grateful that the human he’s lived with took care of him for so long. :3 (Or is that it?…)

[leifyposting]

Rosaria is not usually this transparent.

She isn’t Barbara, who wears her heart on her sleeve, or Jean, who does not count lying among her many talents. She isn’t even Kaeya, whose intricate masks and careful dissembling only hold up as long as the wind doesn’t blow too hard.

Rosaria is impassive, unreadable, barely even there. She’s spent enough years learning how to let people’s eyes slide right off her. It turns out that you can wear fishnets and claw rings and people will still let themselves ignore you if you give them the right excuse.

But she has been drinking, tonight — not quite to the edge of tipsy, but close, right on the line where the lights are warmer and the wine is sweeter and the chatter of the bar patrons tips from grating to almost melodic.

And so maybe she lets her eyes linger, just a little, on the broad back and flaming hair of tonight’s bartender. 

No one would blame her if they caught the way her gaze flits over to him and away, one stolen glance every couple of minutes. Diluc cuts a dashing figure in his bartender’s uniform: all straight lines and stark contrasts, his red hair bright against the white of his vest. He carries himself with a quiet composure born of physical power and a bank vault full of cash. Half the people in this tavern have been ogling him all evening; she’s still not sure if he’s truly oblivious or willfully blind. 

As she watches, he slides a drink over to the Traveler at the end of the bar, waving away the offer of payment. He wipes down the counter with a practiced hand before tossing the cloth over his shoulder once more. Then he turns back, and Rosaria doesn’t look away quite quick enough to stop their gazes from catching and holding. 

Diluc’s gaze burns like the embers of a campfire, low and controlled, but with the promise of destruction unleashed. For a long second, he watches her watching him. 

Then he smiles. 

It’s a different smile from the confident one he gives her in the middle of the night when they’re on a manhunt, or the rueful shouldn’t-have-let-my-guard-down grin he sports when he’s taken an injury he should have been able to dodge. 

This smile is small, meant just for her: the corner of his mouth quirks up, boyish and almost shy, and for a moment Rosaria catches a glimpse of the young man who’d brought Mondstadt to its knees. 

He’s so godsdamned pretty it makes her throat tight. Despite her better judgement, Rosaria finds herself smiling back. 

She suppresses her smile as soon as she registers it — but Kaeya has always been too perceptive for his own good. 

“Playing with fire there, Rosaria,” he murmurs once Diluc turns away. He leans an elbow on the bar counter and fixes her with an unreadable smile. 

“What do you mean?” she asks evenly, taking a swig of her wine.

Kaeya looks unimpressed by her attempt at deflection. “Falling in love with him is a bad idea.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Rosaria says. She realizes too late that this too is a confession. She ought to have asked who he meant; she’s shown her hand too early.

“Sure,” Kaeya says, serious for once. “But you’re getting there.”

“Am not.”

He shakes his head at her. “I wouldn’t get too close, if I were you. He burns everything he touches.”

Kaeya was her first real friend in Mondstadt. She knows what Diluc did — in broad strokes, if not in detail. It definitely makes her a bad friend that she likes him anyway. 

Kaeya’s lone visible eye tracks Diluc’s movement as he weaves his way through the bar, clearing tables. “The thing is, he doesn’t mean to,” he says, his voice low and almost affectionate. “He tries so hard, you know? He’d try, if you asked him to.”

“I’m not asking him shit. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“He just always ends up destroying things anyways,” he continues as if she hadn’t spoken, his fingers tracing lines of frost on the condensation of his glass, his eye still fixed on the back of Diluc’s head. “It tears him apart, but good intentions don’t restore what’s been broken.”

He looks back at her. For a moment she thinks she sees wildfire flames licking at the deep blue of his visible eye, before they resolve into the gentle glow of the lamps that light the Angel’s Share. “I know you’re not going to listen to me,” he says, and smiles mirthlessly. “You can make your own decisions, of course. But be careful, alright? I’d hate to see you hurt in the course of protecting Mondstadt.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Rosaria knows it as soon as it leaves his lips. 

Because no matter how bad Diluc is, Rosaria is worse. Kaeya has forgotten that frost burns too. 

Diluc is a fine, upstanding citizen, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. Rosaria is a scrappy orphan at the mercy of the Church. Diluc has a bent for justice and a mission to take care of the weak. Rosaria only knows revenge.

Kaeya forgets — or ignores, because he is a good friend, and he cares for her in his own way — that Rosaria deserves nothing but destruction and pain. Everything she has received from Mondstadt has been at the cost of its citizens. She owes a debt she can never repay; if she takes some injury in the course of protecting this country, it will simply be what she deserves. 

She lays a hand on Kaeya’s arm and watches him jolt. “Getting burned is part of the job.”

“Of protecting Mondstadt?” He sounds skeptical. “The nation has never asked that of you.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s gotta do it. Don’t act like you haven’t sacrificed for Mondstadt too.”

“Oh, I won’t pretend I haven’t,” he says lightly. “But I’m a hedonist, you know — I’ll always pick pleasure over pain.”

She laughs, opting not to call him on this obvious lie. “I guess that makes me a masochist, because I don’t care if I get hurt.” 

“I care,” he mutters, then sighs. “Look, you’re a grown-up. If you want to flirt with the sun, I won’t stop you. I just reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ when your wax wings go up in smoke.”

“I’ll be careful,” Rosaria promises. 

(Across the tavern, Diluc laughs at something Venti says, low and rolling and resonant. The eyes of half of Mondstadt follow the sound, and Rosaria has never been one to go with the crowd, but in this and this only—)

Kaeya rolls his eyes, shrugging her hand off his arm. “No, you won’t.”

“No,” she agrees, and grins. “I won’t.”

[simcardiac-arrested]

growing up is like, every single thing you thought would be so complicated and unmanageable and unthinkably difficult turns out to be, actually, pretty simple. and every single thing you thought was so simple and easy to understand and how come adults don’t get this turns out to be painfully hard to deal with, to actually understand and internalize.

the thing you thought you had all figured out—somehow, you forget the right way to handle it. the thing you thought would dictate the course of your entire life, the thing you thought would ruin you forever—you move on in 2 months. the worst thing to ever happen to you hasn’t caught up yet. maybe it never will. maybe life shouldn’t be based on which worst thing happens when.

a hobby you thought would be a silly one-off becomes an all-time favorite. a genre you could never see yourself getting into can offer you the best story you’ve ever experienced. an inherent belief you thought you’d never budge on starts getting cracks. a person you’ve only ever seen in passing and had short conversations with can become your closest three, five, seven years later.

everything you thought about yourself can turn out to be wrong. you’ll get better in ways you didn’t know you could. you’ll slip and fall just as much, get new scrapes along the way as you survive yet another mess of a job, a situation, a relationship. it might be fear, or it might be happiness when you’ll look at yourself in the mirror and not recognize who it is.

so yeah, i guess, if i had to describe what growing up feels like, i could say i’m closer to figuring my life out, or i’m even more lost than before, or that it’s like a rebirth, i’m becoming a new person, i’m finally getting to know myself, or the many, many other things people say when you ask them.

and they’re all right, of course—the future you dreamed for yourself at age 12 is no longer there to guide you anymore, but sometimes it does feel like you see things clearer, like the pieces occasionally click in your head even if you can never comprehend the puzzle. you’re still who you were at your core, but you’re also starting to peel back the layers, to find such things that you never even imagined could be you.

so yeah, i guess, growing up is all of those things and more. it never stops to wait for you to realize it’s happening. it’s changing, changing in a way you can never anticipate, changing in a way that will simultaneously ache deeply and make you the happiest you’ve ever been. it’s the most complex, most intricate experience a human could have.

but, like most complicated things, it’s also actually pretty simple.

i mean—it’s just plain fun, isn’t it?

[chloesimaginationthings]

So I have a sticker club now on my Patreon!

[yikesharringrove]

hi i've missed you!

can we do something soft and just cute like going for drives and getting fast food and just talking?

“I’m picking you up,” came the crackling voice from the walkie talkie on the nightstand. “Meet me at the spot in ten. Over.”

“No, you freakazoid,” Steve barely moved from his blanket cocoon, only reaching one arm out to press the button on the side. “I’m asleep.”

“Clearly not. I’m on my way, Shithead. Over and out.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and contemplated going back to sleep for all of five seconds before he sighed, and heaved himself to standing.

Curse Billy for stealing that walkie from Max, for suggesting they stay on their own channel, different than the ones the kids use. Curse Billy for his insomnia and his late night drives. Curse Billy for the way he keeps on hand on Steve’s thigh while they go and always stops at the nearest drive-thru to get Steve a milkshake and wolf down a double cheeseburger (because his dad slapped him and sent him to his room without dinner. Again.)

Steve trudged around the side of his house, crashing through the well-worn path through the sparse trees to the road on the other side.

They both agreed that Billy’s car shouldn’t be spotted outside of Steve’s house, even if they were publicly friends now.

The Camaro was rumbling up the street, and Steve could practically feel the road of the engine shake in his chest before he could even spot the headlights.

Doesn’t matter how many speeding tickets Officer Callahan gives him, Billy’s never gonna be a sensible driver.

He stops in front of Steve, and he grins as Steve joins him in the car, leaning over the center console and burying his left hand in thick, dark brown hair to kiss Steve in a way that steals the breath from his lungs.

“You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, Princess. I’ll get you a damn milkshake.”

The car lurched forward, and they flew down the service roads, flipping off the Leaving Hawkins sign as they went past, on their way to a different little town.

A different little slice of life.

[seventh-district]

“Why’s he call you Darlin’?”

on my knees begging my brain to stop trying to associate this song with Sam

[itspileofgoodthings]

ALSO I am learning how to teach very introverted students, something my natural skillset as a teacher does not help me with.

[snezus-christ-risen]