#and then at night; im normally too tired to draw

[lilpuffyart]

Bringing back Nari's og veil design (for my au) and I might make it an alternative design for his veil c:

[lunarharp]

the stroke of midnight

[munch-mumbles]

(closes my eyes and sighs really hard and long and becomes slightly more peaceful looking)

[fic-dumpster]

OMG imagine this all of bonten doing the slim pickings trend if you don’t know what that is it’s basically a guy lifting a girl (normally that’s I’ll I’ve seen of this trend sorry!)

On this shoulder and flexing that basically that they can carry their girl on their shoulder 😭😩🤤

Anyways I just imagine ❤️ Kakucho ❤️ lifting us then like all of bonten wants to prove they can do it too 🫡 ugh it hurts to even think about 😖

anyways just random thought sorry it’s so long I think I had a heart attack when I thought of this

have a good day/night pookie 💋😘🙈

Anonie, idk if I got you but I’ll see what Bonten does. LET ME TELL YOU THAT I SUFFERED /J. AHSJSKS I DONT KNOW TIKTOK JAHSKSQ IM SORRY Gosh… I can’t write serious or wholesome stuff 🤧 it’s always me and my broken sense of humor.

Slim Pickings || Bonten x Reader 1.9k+ words

cw: body image, TikTok trend, nonsense, cringe… like hundred percent logging off-phone throwing-gagging worthy cringe. constant state of chaos. not edited.

“What are you two doing?” The question came from Takeomi who just stepped into your living room to see Kakucho with you sitting on his shoulder, parading you around as both laughed and smiled.

“A TikTok trend,” you answered casually.

But before Takeomi could ask more questions, the rest of Bonten began to pop into the room.

“it’s rude to stand in the entrance,” Sanzu intentionally bumped shoulders with Takeomi. Which only gained him a tired sigh from the older man.

“We heard music!” Rindou pointed out, casually strolling in.

“And your laughter,” Ran added, walking behind him brother.

After Bonten’s three menaces made their way in, silently Mikey accompanied by Kokonoi and Mochi decided to join the crowd. The shorter man curiously peeked at your form perched on his number three..

Questions began to rain on you once they saw your phone propped up on the table with more than one video of Kakucho lifting you.

“So you just lift me and place me on your shoulders,” you explained in detail to the group of men staring at your phone screen. “Yeah, like that. See?”

“We do that on a daily basis,” pointed out Ran, not really getting where this was going.

“Yeah, we see Rindou flexing his biceps at least four times a day.” Added Sanzu, snickering with his phone out scrolling through some other videos and seeing a bunch of guys just showing off.

“This shit’s easy,” huffed Rindou, ignoring the previous comment but at the same time watching Sanzu’s screen over his shoulder.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” You rolled your eyes at the lack of initiative on their part. Although, you could guess jealousy had a part in that. They seemed bitter that your attention was solely on Kakucho.

You couldn’t have been more wrong with your statement. Bonten was not made for TikTok fame… but you didn’t know it at that time.

─────── · · ·

To see who went first they decided to draw straws… online…

You stood with Kakucho there waiting until everyone got their phones out and went to the page Rindou had shared. Lifting an eyebrow, you saw they had taken this more seriously than you had expected. Oh, yeah… they had banned Kakucho from this round.

Then you heard a groan and a bunch of hyenas laughing. First one to go? it was Kokono… and things didn’t go as planned.

“Okay, ready?” You asked a bit worried since he didn’t seem too eager to be on camera.

“Why do I have to go first?” Koko’s voice cracked a bit at the end, “you’re not posting this, right?”

A bunch of boos from the public followed Koko’s question, and by the public you mean Rindou, Ran and Sanzu. You tried to reassure him it would be alright but the damage to his pride was already done.

Once Koko’s hands were on your hips something in your gut told you that doom was imminent. He had lifted you with ease but as soon as your butt hit his shoulder, the man let out a loud whine. Somehow—someway, your zipper had gotten stuck on his silver hair. Thus, pulling it as he moved you.

“Ah! My hair! My hair!!” Koko’s desperate screams just got most of the group cracking up.

“Oh shut— ack!” You tried to stay as calm as possible, “I’m sorry!” Your eyes turned to the snickering bunch. “It’s not funny!” You held onto Koko’s head for dear life as Rindou and Sanzu avoided your gaze. The latter turned around to keep chuckling.

With his second sigh of the day, Takeomi walked towards you two, pulling Kakucho along.

“How is that this always happens to you two,” Takeomi said, trying to untangle your zipper from Koko’s hair as Kakucho steadied you on the silver-haired man’s shoulder.

After all was done, Kokonoi sat begrudgingly on the furthest sofa with a side of his long silver hair tangled in a thick mass. You smiled apologetically at him.

─────── · · ·

With a triumphant look, Rindou stood ready.

He was feeling confident after Kokonoi’s failure, but he might have gone a bit too hard… the moment he lifted you off the floor, you went flying towards the hanging lights. Thus, hitting you in the back of your head.

Everyone panicked meanwhile Mochi went for an ice pack.

It was chaos, as always—Kakucho to the rescue, he snatched you straight away from Rindou’s shoulder just in time to see Sanzu tackling the youngest Haitani. Then Ran and Takeomi began to scold the pair scuffling on the floor.

Even Mikey joined in, silently hitting Rindou in the same spot that the lamp had smacked you. Bonten’s leader walked away and kept mumbling words about how careless one could be. “An eye for an eye, Haitani.”

Just then, Mochi had walked back in to the room with an ice pack, but seeing the current situation he handed Takeomi the ice pack and went back to get a couple more.

─────── · · ·

After a prolonged discussion about safety, you suggested continuing outside which would have been fine if two people hadn’t begged you for a favor.

Ran was already smirking at you, ready to hoist you up and show the two previous failures how it was done.

And he did just that. At the count of three, you were already sitting on Ran’s shoulder. His grip was unwavering and the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster.

“Why do you always make it weird…” you mumbled once you saw Rindou visibly upset at his loss in this match.

“It’s not, though.” Ran pretended to flick a lint off his shirt, looking straight at the camera now.

It’s then that you remember the words from a certain pair—a pink and a silver head already signaling for you to take action. To keep the peace, both Haitani had to fail… miserably…

So with a deep breath, you loudly shouted something you knew Ran wouldn’t ignore. “Is that a bald spot?!” You even put a finger on his scalp to emphasize.

It happened so fast. One second you were in the air and the next you had been set down on the grass and the oldest Haitani went running to the nearest bathroom, Rindou not far behind. Not a words came out of anyone’s mouth. Meanwhile Sanzu and Koko gave you a thumbs up.

The peace had been kept. Your TikTok project began to feel more complicated than you thought it would be.

─────── · · ·

Nobody was worried about Mikey, they all knew he could easily pick you up, but Mother Nature had other plans.

“Stop laughing,” you grumbled, “it’s not that funny.”

“I’m sorry, sweetcheeks… it is…” Sanzu wheezed almost out of breath from laughing the whole day. “Mikey went straight for your pussy!”

Yes, when it was Mikey’s turn he had almost dropped you because a bee flew to his face and to his credit, he did catch you just as quick but the death-like grip went to your crotch. Which had you squealing and the clowns around you couldn’t stop laughing since then. Even Mochi and Takeomi had chuckled at the whole show.

“Haru, shut up!” You hissed, “Look! He’s sulking already!” At the sight of a brooding Mikey, everyone just went quiet. That sobered Snazu up real quick.

The Haitani brothers had just come back outside, but seeing the grey clouds on everyone’s heads they decided to slowly and carefully go back inside.

With Mikey not being in the mood anymore, the TikTok filming had to stop. Mochi and Sanzu were sad to not get a chance to try.

“Another day,” you weakly replied.

Takeomi felt a sense of relief. He wasn’t sure his back would agree today. He had lifted you before, but it was a gamble and with how everyone’s luck had been today? He didn’t wanna risk it.

─────── · · ·

Later that day, everyone was just sitting around the living room, back to where it all began. It was as normal as it could possibly get.

Most of them were on their phones, although you suspected some of them had the early videos on repeat. Sanzu and kept showing Mochi something and both just kept chuckling. Kokonoi kept checking something about the stock market and grumbling at his screen, angrily typing nonstop. Takeomi was doing the newspaper crossword puzzle and kept asking Ran some of the modern-day stuff he didn’t get. Kakucho had been in the kitchen for a while, and finally, Rindou and Mikey playing thumb fights.

Normalcy… how unusual.

“It’s actually nice… you know?” You interrupted the abnormal calmness surrounding you. “I’m in no way a flimsy thing and you all always move me around like I weigh nothing,” you voiced out your thoughts. You were laying on the couch, just thinking, truth spilling without meaning to, but alas it was out.

“The hell you mean?” Sanzu instantly snapped, throwing his phone to Mochizuki who barely had time to catch it. Bonten’s number two walked up to your resting spot and climbed on top of you. “I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean.”

“Haru…” Your wide eyes stared up at Sanzu, pink hair falling like curtains around your face.

His visceral reaction was like the spark that ignited the rest. Soon you heard the scraping sound of chairs being pulled. The lonely couch was now crowded with a bunch of angry men.

“Move,” Rindou growled as he pulled Sanzu away from you, almost throwing him off the couch. “What do you mean by that?” Now it was the youngest Haitani staring down at you with furrowed brows, and questioning your early statement. “Earlier? I almost sent you to a different fucking orbit.”

They all in their own way tried to make you understand—see what they see.

“Even Koko here can pick you up!” Ran added.

“Yeah,” Koko agreed but then realized the implications, “wait what are you trying to say?!”

Ah, this was more…normal… you giggled at the chaos that erupted around you. From the kitchen walked out Kakucho with a fresh baked bowl of cookies. Mikey didn’t have to be told twice, from the smell alone he knew what it was and took some for himself.

“Heard the commotion,” Kakucho sat next to your head on the couch, “how many times do we have to tell you that’s not important? You see us complain? No, right?” he didn’t let you answer as a cookie was already stuffed in your mouth.

“You have to see us fight to get even a second longer with you. That should tell you how much we want you,” Takeomi noted, pointing towards the Haitanis going against Sanzu and Koko a couple of feet away.

“This is why social media is hazardous,” Mochi announced, holding a cookie between his fingers.

“Body imag—” began Takeomi but he was cut short.

“It’s nothing. You’re just old.” Sanzu rebuked, interrupting his older brother just to spite him. forgotten was Rinodu who went to back up Ran.

The Akashi brothers continued on their intense debate, Mochi adding his opinion here and there as Kakucho kept feeding you and Mikey cookies.

[redr0sewrites]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 2K!!! wooooo!!! Please may I request prompt 5 with Muzan? f or gn reader please and either sfw or nsfw is great! thank you so so much and congratulations again!

🥀A/n: AAA OFCC!!! hi flameyyy!!!!! ♥️♥️♥️

🥀Prompt: "i don't like you- i love you"

🥀Cw: fluff, a little bit of angst, sort of pre-established relationship, first "i love you", Muzan is dramatic and unsure

the rain was unrelenting, drumming against the roof of your small home, keeping you awake late into the night- nearly 'till morning. while the repetitive noise was usually calming, tonight it only fueled your anxiety. your bed was cold in the absence of your lover, and while it was quite normal for Muzan to travel out late, sunrise was approaching and he was nowhere to be found.

it was strange how attached you had become to him, given that the nature of your relationship was still uncertain. he tolerated you, sure, and prioritized you even over demons like himself, but did he love you? the uncertainty of it all was scarier than anything else, so you stayed quiet.

Muzan never harmed you, always treating you kindly (at least to a degree). he brought you trinkets from his travels that now littered your bedroom, and would occasionally hold you close while you slept, with his gaze trained on your face. he claimed that it was simply to keep watch over you to keep you safe, but you knew better that he, while he wouldn't admit it, enjoyed your company. and you couldn't deny that you enjoyed it too, you felt safer in his arms knowing he was watching over you, keeping any danger at bay.

a strike of lightning momentarily illuminated your abode, followed by a loud rumble from the sky above. the act brings you back to the present, while simultaneously invoking more worries.

normally he'd be back by now.

you begin to fear the worst, imagining all of the things that could've gone wrong. as anxiety begins to overcome you, the loud SLAM of your front door causes you to let out a shocked yelp. you reach for the candle to your left, hastily lighting it and taking a sigh of relief at the sight before you. Muzan stands looming in the doorway, and you can't help but compare his likeness to that of a wet kitten. his dark hair is plastered to his face, and his eyes are narrowed and squinty.

"what are you doing awake, beloved?" his coat was flung to the side, crumpling in a heap on the ground. within seconds, he approached you, and cradled your face in his hands. "a fragile human like yourself should be resting," he coo's, accentuating his words with a light flick to the tip of your nose, smirking as your face scrunches in disapproval.

"i was worried, you came back late."

"technically, it is early. the sun is almost rising- which is why you should be asleep."

"oh, fuck you," you grumble, turning your back towards him. Muzan huffs, and you soon hear the soft scuffles of him changing into more comfortable clothes.

"slide over," he purrs, and you oblige, melting into his embrace. his head tucks perfectly against the nape of your neck, and his strong arms pull your back flush against his chest. his claws tenderly trace over the bare skin of your arm, drawing swirls and makings onto your flesh that you aren't privy to. you should feel comforted by his presence, and yet...

"what's troubling you?" his voice isn't accusatory, but direct, and you let out a tired sigh.

"does it matter?"

"would i be asking if it didn't?"

you grit your teeth, struggling to voice your feelings.

"it's just- you know, im human.. and, you know, we're just so different..."

"your point being?" Muzan sounded slightly distressed, the circles he had been tracing against your arm increasing in pace. he was tense, maybe even irritated, and you know you can't drag this out.

"do you- love me? or even like me?" Muzan stills, and your heart drops. you take a breath, he takes a breath. your just about to pull away when he heaves out a heavy sigh. demons don't need to breathe, so the action must be fully intentional.

"why would you ask such a mundane question? i thought it was serious."

"just answer!"

Muzan growls, but ultimately complies.

"its complicated. nearly everything about my existence is. however i do know one thing. i don't like you.."

your heart stills.

"i love you."

Muzan immediately turns around, pulling away and leaving you staring at the wall. you turn towards his back, your heart caught in your throat at the rare confession.

"i- i think i love you too.." your voice is merely a whisper, but you know he heard you from the soft, responding grunt from his far side. tentatively, you slide closer to him on the bed, close enough for you to wrap your arm around his waist. you expect him to pull away, or reprimand you, but he doesn't. instead, he relaxes into your touch, and turns around to face you. his face is stern, but there's something soft in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"rest," he commands, gently pressing your eyelids shut with two kisses. "i'll be here until nightfall."

HAVENT WRITTEN FOR MUZAN IN A HOT MINUTE SO IM SORRY IF ITS OOC- THANK U SO SO SOO MUCH FOR REQUESTING!!!!!

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐁����𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you decided to create a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason grace x fem!boreas!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: child of boreas reader, female reader, snowmen, ethically ambiguous magic, more plot than fluff im sorry, tooth rotting fluff towards the end, daddy issues i think maybe, serious angst ngl, i will never be normal about jason grace, canon who?

𝐚/𝐧: this had no reason to be so emotionally taxing but here we are

Being the boyfriend of a Boreas kid meant two things happened every night: one, sneaking you in from your lonely cabin to his lonely cabin, and two, sleeping with nearly a hundred different blankets. 

Normally, he fell asleep easy despite the chill, but there was a lot of work waiting for him back New Rome. Jason knew this holiday at Camp Halfblood was only making that work pile up, but he tired, so he didn't care just yet. He could let the anxiety catch him after Christmas. Plus, the longer he was away from work the longer he was with you.

Jason had been away doing Roman things for at least two months, and Iris Messages and the occasional phone call weren’t cutting in anymore; despite your cold shouldered father, you were as clingy as all get out. Not that Jason minded (he was clingy too).

The next fall of New Rome University couldn't seem to get there any slower. You were both going to be there, thank the gods.

Jason started to grin at just the thought, his eyes skimming all over your peaceful face as you breathed in and out slowly. The two of you were practically buried under all the blankets, and he would have been miserably hot if it weren’t for his amazing cooler system of a girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” you suddenly sang out softly, a mischievous smirk taking your face.

Jason’s heart sped up. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Creep,” you mumbled.

He reached over to caress your cheek, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You leaned into his touch and twisted in the blankets, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to your hairline and rested his arm on your waist. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You blinked blearily up at him. “Christmas. I’ve been working on something.”

“Care to share?” Jason had known you long enough to know you were serious about Christmas surprises. This time of year your powers were strongest, and you always took advantage of that.

You lightly patted his chest and snuggled deeper into bed. “Mhmm. When it’s ready. Can’t let anything get out or else Mr. D will so shut it down.”

Jason was officially intrigued. “What exactly… never mind. I'd rather sleep easy.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Good choice.”

He caught your lips before you could get back to sleep, cupping you cheek in his hand and drawing you close for an everlasting moment. The thundering mosaic on the ceiling was as annoying as ever, and he swore he could feel the statue of his dad staring holes into him. 

So Jason pulled the pile of covers up to hide the two of you away, thriving off your little giggle as he pulled you in once more.

જ⁀➴

A week till Christmas, and you finally felt ready to cast the enchantment. Giddiness ran through your whole body all morning, along with some nerves, of course.

It all began when you heard Chiron reading a story to some of the littler campers. They were year rounders and were feeling homesick, whining and crying so much their counselors couldn't get anything done. So, he read to them, taking some Christmas storybook from Athena Cabin and frantically narrating the tale of Frosty the Snowman.

You’d been coming by to drop off some paperwork from your well-enough paying job in the Big House, lamenting being unable to find a suitable gift for Percy's little sister Estelle. She'd be coming to camp for the Christmas Day bonfires with her mother and father, and you had yet to find something she would like.

As you dropped off your papers you heard the older of the littles cry out that she wished it would snow in camp. Another then exclaimed he wished they had their own magic snowman.

Mr. D was in the next room over, promptly laughing and popping the kids dream bubble. You weren’t having that, not one bit. And suddenly, you had your perfect gift.

The only reasonable solution was to learn how to create a magic snowman.

(Jason would later call you crazy, which is basically a declaration of love, you think.)

You sat alone in the dim lighting of your cabin, which you shared with no one but the dust bunnies. Boreas didn’t really hoe around much, which you supposed was nice, aside from the fact that it left you no roommates. Nights used to get lonely before you and Jason started saying fuck to the rules.

Little snowflakes danced around your palms before they went spiraling into the air and exploded into dozens of flurries. Slowly, bit by bit, the snow started to pile up all around you, creating a blanket of white across the floor. You had the snow down, now, you just had to trust you had your sorcery skills down.

A knock on the cabin’s skylight startled you. 

You smiled, calling up, “What’s the password?”

“Jason has the coolest girlfriend ever?”

“Not quite.”

There was a sigh. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Access granted,” you sang in reply, an all too satisfied smirk planted on your face.

The skylight creaked open, letting in the moonlight as well as your boyfriend. He shivered instantly. No matter how high you set the thermostat, the Boreas cabin was always freezing. Not that it ever bothered you, anyway.

A snow flurry landed on his nose, sending Jason into a sneezing fit. “Still working?”

“Mhmm.” He watched as you tried and failed to hide a yawn.

A little smile sprouted on his face as he rolled his eyes. “All right. Bed time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t baby me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m afraid I can’t sleep without you,” he said softly, holding out a hand with such a pretty look in his eyes. If he kept on looking at you like that, you might as well fall in love with him already.

“Fine,” you sighed, plopping your hand into his and letting him haul you to your feet. “Only because you can’t function without me.”

You wrung your arms around his neck and flushed yourself against him, his arms tight around you and a cute blush in his cheeks. 

A light breeze kissed your cheek as he rose off the floor, keeping one arm around your waist while the other pushed open the skylight. 

“Air Jason, taking off,” you said, doing your best to mimic a pilot’s microphone and failing miserably. Jason loved it though, an airy laugh bubbling from his lips as the night air met the pair of you with no regret.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered into your ear, eliciting a poke to the ribs from you. Jason dropped a few feet in the air and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, a scream leaving you as your legs clambered to wrap around his waist. 

Jason was laughing for gods’ sake, shushing you as he picked up speed to reach Cabin One before the harpies caught you. “Sorry, sorry.”

In through the open window and down to the floor, the wind carried you all the way, a soft caress on your skin as if the air meant to comfort the two of you. You were going to ask him if he felt it too when a wave of exhaustion found you, and you started to lean into Jason, not letting him go even when your feet touched the ground.

He rubbed gently circles into your back, his chin coming to rest on your head, eyes closing. You were cold to touch, as always, but Jason would gladly get frostbite just to hold you forever. 

Eyes soft, you caught corners of glittery lights in your peripheral, turning to find a Christmas tree that had definitely not been there a few hours ago. A smile split onto your face as you rushed up to it, admiring the rainbow lights and mismatched ornaments. 

Jason must’ve gone through the Big House attic to find all these. You picked off an ornament of Olympus, a selfie of a smiling Apollo and a less than pleased Dionysus staring out from the little city of the gods. 

“It’s perfect,” you said, spinning back around to find Jason there. 

He had that look in his eyes. You know, the one that takes all the air out of you and leaves you craving nothing more than his very presence. “One more thing.”

You followed his gaze to the ceiling, lip slipping between your teeth to contain your smile. “Mistletoe?”

His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes dipping low. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

How could you argue with that? Without warning you lurched forward and sent Jason stumbling back, lips meeting his in a feverish moment.

જ⁀➴

Dawn was encroaching on the camp. 

There was barely a noise all across the Long Island Sound, aside from the sea meeting land, the ruffling of the harpies’ feathers, and the contented snores coming from each cabin. In the stables the pegasi huffed and dealt with the faux antlers stuck to their heads. Mr. D sat snoring in a rocking chair on the Big House deck. 

The tall and proud Christmas tree at the center of camp stood looming over Hestia’s fire. Her warm face could be spied through the flickering flames, if one looked close enough. Beneath the tree’s branches were boxed gifts, some from attentive godly parents, but most placed there by Chiron (he never bothered correcting the campers when they assumed Santa Claus came in the night).

Garlands and wreaths hung from every doorway. Mistletoe was easy to find from the awnings of the Aphrodite Cabin. Poinsettias bloomed over the rooftop of Demeter’s Cabin. The smell of cookies and candy canes wafted out from the camp kitchens, the dryads tossing bits of flour and sugar at each other as they prepared something special.

It was a Camp Halfblood Christmas if you’d ever seen one.

The only thing missing was snow. 

You stood on the hilltop overlooking the center of camp, embracing the December chill. The magical borders prevented outside weather from affecting the camp, but they did nothing to stop weather coming from the inside. 

Flexing your palms and shaking them out, you let out a breath that crystallized in the frigid air. The water in the air bended to your will, the clouds gathered at you command. You didn’t pretend to understand weather and the science of it all, you just knew that when the water in the clouds got cold enough…

Your concentration was unrelenting even as the first few snowflakes drifted down from above, following the current of air down the valley of camp. You would need a lot more than that. Glancing at the sun peeking up over the horizon, you pushed past your growing fatigue.

There would be snow that Christmas Day if you had anything to do about it.

જ⁀➴

Jason noticed right away that the familiar warmth of your freezing body was missing from his side. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled over and noticed that your shoes weren’t at the foot of the bed. 

The whole cabin was freezing, but without you, it was just getting on his nerves. He was ready to get up, throw on a coat, and maybe just start yelling your name to find you wherever you’d run off to.

That was when he looked out the window. Jason’s jaw slacked, his eyes pleasantly wide and bright as a laugh tore out of him. He jumped up and didn’t bother with shoes as he flung open the cabin’s door and ran into the snow.

Everywhere a white layer of snow sat heavy on benches, picnic tables, the cabins—nothing was safe from this Christmas Day miracle.

He laughed again and raked his hands through his hair. So this is what you’d been working so secretively on. Jason really should have guessed sooner. 

The sound of boots in the snow caught his attention and he glanced over to see Piper hurling a snowball at Leo’s head. Leo sputtered when the snow hit his face, a sly grin all over his face.

Piper laughed behind her hand and noticed Jason struggling to pull on sneakers in his doorway. She dodged a snowball from Leo’s warm hands and jogged toward him. Her voice was tangled with a smile. “Did you know she was planning this?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. All around camp kids were racing outside, slipping on the icy snow and tossing on any warm clothes they could find. You were still nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen my girlfriend?”

Piper shook her head and made to say something when a handful of snow was dumped down the back of her shirt. She gasped and whirled around, shivering despite the hot anger in her eyes, and took off after a cackling Leo without another word. 

Snickering, Jason took another look around, sighing when he couldn’t see you in the midst of excited campers. 

He turned around to go grab a jacket when a soft noise caught his attention. Some kind of grunting, followed by a startled yelp. Jason started to smile. He’d know that sound anywhere. He followed the noise around the side of his cabin, tilting his head at the sight.

You were red in the face, using all your might to roll a giant ball of snow, struggling to say the least. Estelle was standing by with rapt attention, excitement written all over her face. 

Jason went to stand beside Estelle, kneeling to be at her height. He leaned in to stage-whisper, “Do you think she needs some help?”

You looked up, stopping in the process of pushing your back against the snow, huffing and puffing through your glare. Estelle giggled. “Probably.”

He saw it in your face; you wanted to flip him off, only refraining given the current company. Estelle’s eyes gleamed up at him along with a bucktooth smile. “We’re building a snowman!”

“We?” you huffed, tucking your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I didn’t know we were pronouncing my name as we now.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I’m supervising.”

“Honestly, I think ‘Stelle’s doing the heavy lifting,” Jason teased.

You sighed and turned to face your work. “That’s one layer. Jason, you do the middle.”

Still grinning, he was going to protest before doing exactly as you said, when a voice echoed across the lawn. One of the Stolls (Jason knew they were a few years apart but he still could never remember which was which) was approaching, a snowball in hand.

“Yo, Y/N!” he called. “It’s getting a little soggy over here!”

You smiled like this wasn’t the first time someone had had this complaint, wasting no time in cracking your neck and splaying out your hands.  A cold rush of wind enveloped you, a firm crease in your brows, before another wave of snow rained down from the clouds.

The Stoll brother shouted his thanks, and you meant to offer a smile when suddenly the world got tipsy, everything going black for a split second as you teetered off balance. Jason’s heart dropped and he rushed to your side, steadying you against him.

“Hey, hey, you with me?” 

You blinked blankly, though you nodded despite the greenish tint in your cheeks that was quickly fading. Still, Jason wanted nothing more than to sit you down and cast lightning upon anyone who tried to use you like a snow machine again. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gaining your color back. “Just a bit tired keeping all of this up.”

Estelle was attempting to finish the snowman on her own, promptly falling face first into the snow and sputtering to her feet. You giggled at her expense, not realizing you were still leaning mostly on Jason.

He wasn’t done questioning. “How long did it take to cover the whole camp?”

“Oh, uhm.” Your brows drew together, lips pursed. “A few hours. No big deal.”

You broke away from Jason and went to help Estelle roll along another giant snowball, casting Jason a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh and tried to let it go, going to help with the snowman construction.

The three of you finished the three layers of the snowman’s body, and Estelle ran off to collect the decorations and came back with a box, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend.

Percy held Estelle on his shoulders, the box of supplies in Annabeth’s arms. You wiped your brow and smiled so brightly upon spying them that Jason nearly forgot you’d been focusing on continuing the snowfall all along, slowly draining yourself. 

Before he could call you out you sprang to your feet and went to pick the carrot out of the box. Annabeth chuckled and said, “I had to fight Blackjack for that.”

“Aww,” you hummed through a giggle. “Poor guy.”

Percy scoffed. “Please, he gets enough carrots. He could spare us at least five.”

Before you even had the chance to reply, Estelle jumped up to swipe the carrot from your hand. A response was barely on you lips when she nearly toppled the whole snowman over trying to stick the nose on its blank face.

You sighed and went to help her, scooping your hands under her arms and lifting her so she could reach its face. 

The morning went by as Piper and Leo approached the finished snowman with hot cocoa in hand. Piper sported a grin as she looked at you and said, “Mr. D is furious.”

“I hoped so,” you said. 

As Piper knelt to talk to Estelle you once again chose to ignore the weightiness in your shoulders, swallowing thickly to deal with your drying throat, and walked to the near empty box. Inside was a top hat you’d been saving for last. This was what the practice was leading up to.

“Hey, Stelle,” you called. Jason came to your shoulder, brows drawn, and you shot him a smirk. “Have Percy help you put the hat on top.”

She needed no more asking, taking her brother’s hand and dragging him to the snowman. Percy lifted her just as you had, and as Estelle rested the silk top hat on the snowman’s head, you held out a hand, worked some Boreas kid magic, and sent up a prayer to your dear old dad. A flurry of snowflakes shot out from your palm and right to the heart of the snowman.

You waited on bated breath as Estelle’s boot crunched back to the snowy ground, your gaze locked on the unmoving creature of snow. One second, then two, then three, until a minute passed. Estelle ran back to Annabeth and started ranting about something, Percy right behind her as he slung an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. Piper and Leo engaged in another snowball fight, hot cocoa discarded on the ground.

And the snowman stood still. Your lips pursed with confusion and frustration. Jason appeared beside you again, looking from you to the snowman. “What’re we glaring at Frosty for?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed with a forced grin. You let out a sigh and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a swift kiss to the back of his hand. “Wanna head inside? You’re shivering.”

He shook his head and slipped an arm around your waist. He was warm and soft and despite how much you loved the cold, you’d never get tired of it. But you couldn’t focus on that right now; you were too disappointed. 

That was until your boyfriend hit a full stop, his eyes slightly horrified yet also mystified. Brows pinched, you were on the verge of asking what was wrong when his hand gripped your chin. You flushed deep red at the action, another rush of warmth hitting you, but then Jason was turning your head to follow his line of sight.

A bright laugh escaped you. There, made of snow, two button eyes, and a carrot nose, was Estelle’s snowman. But now, he was living and breathing. The little twig eyebrows on him drew taut as he examined himself, looking at himself tree branch arms. 

Your friends all around you stood in shock, looking from you to your creation. You laughed again quite like a mad scientist, and dropped Jason’s hand to slowly approach the snowman.

“Hello,” you said, and he considered you with a blank button stare, the line of chocolate chips making his mouth curved down into a frown.

“What am I?” he asked you, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked very contemplative for a snowman.

“A snowman,” you answered brightly. 

The snowman hummed. His voice was soft, reminding you of the sound of crackling fire. Ironic. “I don’t think I’m meant to be alive. I feel… odd.”

Your smile started to fade, and you glanced back at your friends for help. Estelle stood awestruck, slowly stomping through the snow to stand at your side. She took your hand and looked up at the snowman with shining eyes. 

The snowman looked back at her, going quiet. “Hello.”

Estelle started to smile. “Hi. My name’s Estelle, and this is Y/N. Those are our friends.” She jabbed a thumb back at the others. “Oh, do you have a name?”

He seemed to turn thoughtful, nodding. “I believe it was Perseus.”

Estelle let out a tiny gasp. “That’s what I called you! In my head!” She turned to you in complete and utter amazement. “How did he know that?”

You could only shake you head with a smile, squeezing her hand. “I dunno. Magic?” You couldn’t help but laugh once more, casting a glance up at the sky. The wind brushed through your hair, feeling oddly like a father’s hand ruffling a daughter’s hair.

You’d never met your father, but you doubted he was a cold as the weather.

Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper came to admire the snowman, introducing themselves as he assessed them one by one. Jason hooked an arm around your waist, pulling your side against his, and you practically melted onto him. Your legs felt a tad bit weak.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering in your ear. “You astonish me.”

A smile split onto your face as you turned to kiss his cheek. Percy started to laugh as he looked upon the snowman. “Perseus the Snowman, huh?”

Perseus was holding Estelle’s hand as she rattled on about camp and how cool her big brother was and all about the Greek gods. Perseus listened with unabashed attention, the crease in his twig brows alluding to his curiosity. 

Annabeth sidled up to you, unsure how to phrase her question. “Do you… Well, was this smart?”

You gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

The wise daughter of Athena settled you with her seriousness. “He’s snow… you can’t keep him that way forever.”

Her words rattled you to your core, and for once, you felt the chill of December.

Morning passed to evening, and you stayed stuck to Jason’s side more by exhaustion than by choice. Not that you minded, but the jelly feeling in your legs was less than pleasant. It took some work to ward off the curious campers from bombarding Perseus, who proved to be a rather anxious snowman. 

Christmas Day passed by answering the endless questions of a snowman, explaining everything he could ever want to know. 

Piper and Leo had gone off to lead ornament making with their respective cabins, being head counselors and all, and Percy and Annabeth went to make an obligatory holiday call to the latter’s father. Leaving only you, Jason, Estelle, and Perseus. 

The four of you were at a picnic table close to the woods, the demigods sat atop the table and the snowman rolled up to the side. 

Your energy was slowly but surely coming back to you. With the sun crossing the sky and starting to descend, the need for snow was waning. You hadn’t had a demand for a few hours, and to be honest, you were grateful. Your eyes felt droopy and your shoulders ached. You wanted to sleep, but you had one more thing to keep focused on: Perseus the Snowman. 

Jason drew gentle shapes on your hand, letting you lay your head on his lap as Estelle told the harrowing tale of how Percy defeated Clarisse La Rue in his very first game of capture the flag.

You were having trouble looking at your snowman. From what he said when Estelle let out a yawn, he knew exactly why.

“Look at that,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. His button eyes swept across the lawn of camp, where the snow was melting into the grass under the heat of the setting sun. His eyes turned to you, then. “You’re letting it all melt.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, resting your hands in your lap. You blinked at him, a tug on your heart. “Yes.”

He could only stare back at you. “You’re keeping me, though.”

Perseus was very perceptive for a snowman. You smiled at him. “We’re not done talking to you.”

He smiled back. “That’s true. And when we’re done talking?”

Estelle was looking between all of you, a confused purse in her lips. Jason cleared his throat and asked her to get him earmuffs from his cabin. She nodded and ran off, nearly tripping over herself. You sent him a look. “You don’t own earmuffs.”

“Oops,” he murmured through a grin. Perseus was watching the pair of you almost fondly.

You turned back to him and searched for the words to say, but it was all lost on you. Jason continued to rub soothing circles into your skin. All the words you knew suddenly boiled over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what would happen when… You know.”

Perseus shifted around, a gentle chocolate chip smile on his face as he took in the scenery. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to have lived.”

“But… you’re going to die,” you couldn’t help but say, as if he needed reminding.

He didn’t. That much was clear by his smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he echoed. “I’ll be happy to die. Snowmen aren’t meant for longevity.” 

Your throat constricted. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“You were thinking of Estelle,” he said. “I’ve made her happy. I’m perfectly fine with melting.”

You cupped a hand over your mouth and averted your eyes just as Estelle came sprinting back, chest heaving as she lamented being unable to find any earmuffs.

“It’s cool, Stelle,” Jason said, forcing a smile. 

She plopped back down and huffed, looking to Perseus, then the sunset. Perseus glittered in the light, and it took you far too long to realize it wasn’t glitter, but dew. 

Estelle, angel she is, noticed it too. “Perseus, are you melting?” Before he could even think to answer she was turning on you, a fire in her gaze. “Make him better.”

You would—gods, all of Olympus knew you would, if only you weren’t exhausted. You gaped like a fish, squeezing Jason’s hand. Perseus the Snowman shook his head. “No, there’s no need.”

He reached out a wooden arm and she gently wrapped her little fingers around the splintered edges of his crooked hand. “I don’t fear death.”

Estelle’s jaw hung slack for an everlasting moment. “Well, I do! Y/N, do it.”

Jason tensed and snapped, “Stelle, that’s not fair.”

She didn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“Estelle,” Perseus drew her attention back to him. “You’ll make more snowmen.”

She shook her head hopelessly, eyes going glassy. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever make another snowman.”

“How sad,” said Perseus. “Never?”

Estelle wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Maybe, not never.”

The snowman started to smile again. His button eyes roamed over them all, stopping on the sky, and he sighed. “What a wonderful day to be alive.”

You turned your face so no one would see you crying. Jason's hold on your hand was the only thing sobering you up enough to remain on the picnic table, watching the sunset with your snowman.

The god Astraeus painted the sky with vibrant yellows, pinks, and oranges in a sunset to rival all others. It was too beautiful. Perseus kept his blank gaze settled on it alone, his hand still in Estelle’s. You and Jason sat rigid behind them as time ticked away. 

The moon rose expectantly to take its place as the sun started to hide under the horizon. The yellows and pinks made way for the dark blue of night creeping in. Only then did Perseus shift his gaze back to Estelle. “I’m ready now.”

A crease grew in your brow when Estelle nodded, understanding what you did not, and she stood up on the table to reach over Perseus’ head. With shaky hands she reached for his hat, glancing down at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

All Perseus did was smile. “Merry Christmas.”

The little girl took in a wavering breath. “Merry Christmas.” And she removed the hat, lifting it off his head, and in an instant all hints of emotion left the snowman. Nothing changed at all, but each of you could see it; those buttons held life behind them no longer. 

You bit down hard on your lip. “How did you know that would work?”

She shrugged, setting the hat down on the snow. “I didn’t.”

The sound of footfalls on the snow had you turning around. Chiron approached, a sorry look in his eyes, and he stopped a few feet off. “Everyone has gathered around the tree.”

You took Estelle’s hand in yours, steeling yourself and offered her a smile that she slowly returned. Jason moved to walk at your side as you followed Chiron to the center of camp. The tree lit up most of camp, stretching high and out.

Campers were singing off key here and there. A pair of girls was caught under the mistletoe, one laughing awkwardly before the moon eyed one swooped in for a gentle peck on her lips. Gifts were being exchanged. Snow balls were thrown. A snowman was being built by some younger Hermes kids too.

“Hey!” Percy called out, cheeks flushed as he sipped on his apple cider. One arm was slung around his girlfriend who was talking in low voices with Thalia. The lot of your friends were gathered around one of the many little fires scattered around the lawn.

He offered you and Jason each a blue gingerbread man, grinning ear to ear. “Mom made ‘em.”

You looked around for Mrs. Blofis and found her at a nearby table, handing out marshmallows for roasting with Mr. Blofis at her side. Mr. Blofis wasn’t doing much handing out, instead engaging in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Mr. D. The god of wine was gesturing wildly as he regaled some kind of story.

All was well. All was calm. You found it in yourself to actually smile. 

Guilt wasn’t very far, wondering truly what you had been thinking bringing a snowman to life, when a particularly harsh bout of wind blew all your hair into your face. You sputtered through a giggle and swiped your hair to the side, your voice faltering when you caught sight of a man standing on the outskirts of the bonfires and chatter.

It couldn’t be. You stepped away from Jason and the rest, approaching the stranger. He stood tall, with a suit that glittered like snow. Two purple wings arched from his shoulder blades. What could your father want with you on Christmas?

“Hi,” you said, not sure where to start.

He stirred like he was uncomfortable. “Yes, hello, daughter.”

You had the heart to grin. “Merry Christmas.”

Boreas nearly scoffed before he corrected himself with a nod. “You as well.”

The silence to follow was tense. You motioned with your hand vaguely. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

You weren’t sure how to feel about meeting your father. You’d imagined this moment countless times, but it all led up to this anticlimactic reveal that was more amusing than anything else. 

“There is,” he huffed. “I thought I would let you know your little magic act didn’t harm anything.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, heart dropping.

“I mean that the snowman is not dead,” Boreas informed you. “The snowman itself was never alive, I suppose. I’m impressed, I should say. You managed to catch a snow spirit and wrangle it into that snowman. Normally, snow spirits don’t get lives… You did a good thing, I suppose, giving that spirit one. He remembers it all. Perseus, as you called him, is living free and wild, as a snow spirit should be.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were watering, relief coursing through you. “Oh, thank gods. I’m not murderer.”

Boreas chuckled softly. “You’re not.” He averted his eyes, raising a hand and pausing, unsure, before he settled it on your shoulder and met your eyes. “I’m… proud of you. I don’t have many children. You’re certainly one I don’t regret.”

You blinked up at him, reaching to awkwardly pat his forearm. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded stiffly, backed away, and with a last Merry Christmas, he vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. One landed on your nose and gave you an ever rare shiver.

Jason’s arm wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you like a nice blanket. “You good?”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Very.”

Curfew was extended that night, much to the harpies' disappointment. Treats and drinks were devoured by greedy children and finally, at the end of the night, Chiron gave the word and a stampede of kids ran to tear open the gifts they’d been eyeing for weeks. 

After the younger kids had grabbed theirs and the crowd died down, your group moved in to find the gifts with your names on them. Your dad gifted you a snowglobe of camp. You shook it up with a smile, not noticing your sweating boyfriend approach you from behind.

“Y/N?” You turned, smile widening. Jason only got more nervous. “Uhm… I…”

You set the snowglobe back in its box on the ground and stepped closer to him, taking his hands in your freezing ones. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he blurted. “So much.”

Your grin grew painful with how big it was. “And I love you.”

Jason blushed and took a deep breath. “You’ve been with me through… everything. When I wasn’t sure who I was, when Hera manipulated me and Piper, through the war.” He was out of breath, only one thought on his mind: no words would ever be enough. “I’m so in love with you. I can’t explain how much. Just when I think about it I can’t breathe.” 

Your face had fallen into admiration. Jason’s thumb rubbed anxious lines on your knuckles. “I never want to spend a day without you. You deserve everything, and I want to give it to you.”

“Jason…” Your voice was shaky, tapering off.

“Don’t worry,” he nearly whispered, moving to cup your cheek. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet.” You giggled and he swore it was better than ambrosia. “I will though. I promise I will.”

You were too busy reaching to take his face in your hands to notice when he pulled something out of his pocket. You leaned forward to kiss the very life out of him, and he would very much have let you, but he drew you back with his hold on your jaw, chuckling when you frowned.

He held up a little velvet box between your bodies. Suddenly you weren’t so interested in kissing him, swiping the box from him with greedy hands and gleaming eyes. You popped the box open, admiring the pretty silver chain laid within. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Jason turned you around and offered to clip it around your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, peppering kisses from the skin behind your ear down to your shoulder, relishing in the little quiver you gave in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Whirling back around, you jumped him, arms flinging around his neck as you crushed your lips to his. You pulled back for barely a second to mumble “Merry Christmas” before your tongue pushed past his lips, your teeth catching his bottom lip.

“Woah! Woah! No PDA in my camp!” You groaned and ripped away from Jason, rolling your eyes as you cast Mr. D a glare over your shoulder. 

Jason wasn’t so cocky anymore, red from neck to nose. “Sorry!”

“I don’t get paid enough…”

You and your boyfriend locked eyes, breaking down into a round of laughter as the grumpy god stomped away. 

“Hey!” Piper jumped out of nowhere, Leo hot on her tail. Both were totally buzzed, and all you could do was laugh and wonder how on earth they’d snuck in alcohol. “Come sing carols, lovebirds!”

The pair of you followed the pair of them back to the little bonfire your friends had claimed. Fiddling with your necklace, you eyes scanned across them all to land on Jason, and a rush of adoration hit you like a freight train. You pecked his cheek and watched him stumble over a chuckle, returning a kiss to your hairline. 

Then, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, a snowflake crossed your eye. 

One by one, the sky became littered with flurries. Annabeth held up a hand as if to catch some. “Y/N, you’ve got to be tired by now. Take a rest.”

You shook you head slowly, confused. “This isn’t me.”

The winter wind kissed your cheek, and you were left at a loss. But Estelle—sweet Estelle, who sat between her brother and Annabeth—she knew. A little grin appeared on her face. “Goodbye, Perseus.”

[yyokkki]

Asking to Sketch Them

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle Rosehearts

Honestly a bit shocked you’d ask him

But he’s had practice from posing for family portraits, so he isn’t too nervous

Until you say you want the backdrop to be Heartslabyul’s garden

It doesn’t break any rules… but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t break any rules

He doesn’t collar people as often as he used to, but he still makes it a point to lecture rulebreakers on the importance of said rule

So imagine the strain on his face when Ace walks by with a vase full of roses and it’s Wednesday.

In the end Ace sits beside you while Riddle gives a long lecture, keeping the rest of his body perfectly still so it doesn’t interfere with your work

You are sweating in fear. 6/10 a good model but it’s hard to draw when your model is half yelling at the dude sitting right next to you

Trey Clover

Might hesitate to say yes because he’s a busy guy,,

I mean they have tea parties like everyday and he’s always in charge of sweets-

You say he can go about his business and that you’re going to capture him in his natural habitat then he agrees

Raises an eyebrow cuz you make it sound like you’re on national geographic but ok

Anyways you’re drawing him while he’s baking and damnnn those biceps pop when he’s whisking

Secretly, however, he’s been holding back for a while now/

When you’re least expecting it he comes closer to you… and bam whipped cream on the side of your face

Devolves into flour tossing and chaos

6/10 you got whipped cream on your sketchbook and it was half finished but it was a fun memory

Cater Diamond

“OMS YAY of course ;DD”

Internally screaming because his makeup isn’t that good today and why him I mean there are better looking people in nrc and maybe he can get his clone to do it instead-

Overthinker fr

He’s a bit stiff at first, trying to only show his good side and checking his camera constantly to see if his smile looks good

If you’re close and you start talking to him about something he’s passionate about while you’re sketching he’ll loosen up a bit and his pose becomes a lot more natural

Eventually forgets you’re even drawing him and now it’s just him showing his true colours

Takes a pic of your finished sketch along with the both of you and posts it on magicam #muse #artistbestie

8/10 the sketch turned out well and you had a nice chat 

Deuce Spade

Has never been asked this question in his life

Boy is so stiff and awkward pls baby

He smiles like Oga from Beelzebub at first

Pls pls pls get this boy to do something else while you’re drawing him to get him to relax

Might be studying across the table from you while having a nice chat

Forgets you’re drawing him eventually pt.2

Tbh moves around a lot especially if a senior enters the room cuz he makes it a point to turn around and greet them while standing up

Is a bit surprised when you say you’re done because shit I forgot and I moved so much im sorry-

Also takes a picture of the sketch

Texts his mom the pic “I made a really good friend who’s great at drawing :D”

Will ask if you can draw a portrait of him and his mom together when you get the chance (will pay for it he just doesn’t know about the concept of commissions TT)

4/10 he’s so precious but not the best model tbh id still ask him again idc

Ace Trappola

Little shit (affectionate)

Not hard to make him agree but boy will he give you shit for it “my face is just that handsome ig” “you want me to get nude?” someone kiss him and make him shut up

At first he’s making a bunch of dumb faces and exaggerated poses and once he determines that you’re sufficiently annoyed he starts actually posing normally

Might get up halfway through and start stretching or laying down cuz he got tired though

Depending on how late he slept the night before and if you’re keeping quiet so he doesn’t get the chance to tease you, he might fall asleep

His sleeping face is cute so it works out for you ehe

When you’re done he acts all non chalant and smug about it but inside he’s sooo happy damn tsundere

Asks if he can draw you next and draws a potato with three dots on it <3

2/10 its only easy when he falls asleep but he’s cute so ill give him 1 extra point

-----

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Graphic design is not my passion dear lord i really need to read a guide on how to format tumblr posts TT

Also first time writing omg depending on my mood next part will either be out tomorrow or next month see yall

[avkizi]

my mha/bnha dr intro ⋆.˚

hey guys!! this is just kinda my intro for my mha/bnha dr, just so y'all can get a feel for me (WARNING I am a certified yapper and this will be a long ass post bc Im gonna TALK also some translations may be wrong bc despite me literally being Japanese I was born in the USA 🦅🇺🇸 so I am using a combination of google translate and a Japanese baby name meaning site anyway bye) ♡︎

basics

first name: Akitsu (亜希津), goes by Aki (亜希) last name: Takami (高み) birthday: 06/04 (15) pronouns: she/her occupation: UA first year, class 1-A ethnicity: japanese

appereance

hair color: brown & white hair type & length: 2a, medium length eye color: gold (but my pupils & irises are enlarged kinda like a cat or an owl so you really only see those) skin tone: medium/lighter tan height: 5'0 body type: hourglass, lean & sleeper build notable features: tufts of feathers around ears and two on head (think great horned owls), owl wings, small scar across nose bridge and burn scarring on right shoulder, upper arm, back, and mid-thigh.

hobbies + skills + talents <3

drawing & painting pole dancing (the workout kind NOT stripping I am a minor 😭) contortion, acrobatics, & gymnastics volleyball makeup singing crocheting & sewing vlogging & social media fashion & thrifting & shopping (I'm just a girl frfr)

quirk

quirk name: owl a lil self explanatory but basically I can do anything an owl can, my quirk gives me owl wings, talons, enhanced hearing, sight, & night vision, vocal range, etc. quirk type: mutant strengths: already kinda explained but wings, advanced flexibility, speed & stealth, enhanced senses. drawbacks: -since my wings etc are part of my body permanently, they work like a muscle, so I can't fly for too long without getting tired (like walking or running). -to be able to fly, I have hollow bones, which are a lot easier to break, and have to stay on the lighter side, which means I have an incredibly hard time building bulk & muscle mass -i am affected a lot more by loud sounds & overwhelming stimuli bc of my advanced senses -i have to eat raw meat & eggs as well as normal/human food, and I will get sick/malnourished if i'm not able to -i get seasonal molts & shedding, leaving me unable to fly and function much for about a week during that time

random shit/trivia (help girl idk)

-favorite color is pink -has to take medication to maintain normal sleep schedule -kinda obvious by the name, but she's hawks' (keigo takami's) younger sister -cuts wing holes into all her tops w scissors -loves marine bio, hates swimming/getting wet

thats it ig lmk is y'all want more, please please ask me questions about my dr or ab mha in general i love yappin dude

im prolly gonna post a kanji/name meaning analysis bc I gotta talk about that I put sm into it help !!

[lewkwoodnco]

Be More - George x Reader

"Er...I think this dough's ready to be cut into the strips."

"Yes, chef."

He coughed awkwardly, too uncomfortable to come up with any decent sort of response.

a/n: am soooo salty i fell sick in the middle of my 12 days of fics '23 for xmas last year :((( so im giving myself a lil treat by doing a short series of valentine's fics! i SO don't know how souffles work if you can't tell so pls don't come for me, and a special special thanks to lisa @neewtmas for the apron idea heheh. all fluff, which is why I got all my angst fics out of the way beforehand if you'd like a lil palate cleanser :) also totally didn't make this a songfic cuz i was struggling to find a title :} btw I headcannon that george randomly zones in and out in everyday life and this has nothing to do with how much I may or may not do this myself ALSO was strongly influenced to post this earlier by the multiverse of George aka @oblivious-idiot @bella-rose29@bobbys-not-that-small heh

warnings/tropes: lockwood and george bromance supremacy!!! baking, lots and lots of valentine's day fluff, awkward georgeeeee

word count: 2.8k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lucy handed George a steaming cup of tea, which he gratefully accepted. The three of them were having breakfast as usual, and with the last strains of winter fading, Portland Row's kitchen was entirely too bright. He closed his eyes, pretending he didn't see the way Lockwood's hand lingered on Lucy's when taking his mug. They were bad enough on any normal day, but even worse nowadays, with Valentine's Day drawing achingly closer. He felt himself begin to nod off again from the gentle and comforting steam.

He felt a mild rap against his cheek, which he turned to see is from a well-aimed sugar cube launched from across the table by Lucy. He looked up to see her staring hard at him and Lockwood poorly concealing a snigger with his cup of tea.

"George. Have you or have you not got any plans for Valentine's?"

He takes his time wiping his glasses on his shirt sleeve before responding. "Nothing much. Though I've promised Y/N I'd spend the day with her."

He watched Lucy's expression carefully, and she seemed to be watching his. Truth was, with Valentine's drawing closer and closer, George was going into a mild panic. He hadn't exactly arranged it intentionally. They had been having a quiet chat on a morning when George had been too tired from the previous night's case to strictly follow, and suddenly she was waving goodbye, promising to see him next on Valentine's Day.

He had no idea what kind of a Valentine's Day he had agreed to, or how much of a filter he had had, and he had been dropping Lucy desperate cries for help, with decreasing subtlety. Was it a date? Was she expecting a date? Sure, they had went to that play together after Lucy fell mysteriously ill, and maybe they met up for lunch once a week. But she never referred to

His eyes slowly drifted close as Lucy and Lockwood's conversation morphed into gentle white noise, enjoying the warmth of the little sun streaming through their kitchen window. It felt nice to have a little break from his intense week of baking -

Baking! George snapped wide awake, clumsily climbing out of his chair and feverishly counting the stacks of meticulously wrapped, frilly pastry goodie bags lining the kitchen counter. It had become an annual Valentine's Day tradition for George to construct these small goodie bags of baked goods for a sizeable chunk of his extended family. He even roped in Lucy and Lockwood, and as Valentine's Day approached they'd all gather around the kitchen table at night, even if it was after a case, packing the delicaices George had spent the day baking, until one of them started dropping off.

It was tedious work, but they enjoyed it and were well invested in it - Lockwood fiercely so. When a cousin had remarked that perhaps the tradition was becoming a little tired at a family gathering last Christmas, Lockwood had accidentally-but-not-really smacked his head. George relaxed as he neared towards the end of the pile - just one more day of baking, and he'd be ready to send them off.

Lucy and Lockwood were mostly finished with breakfast anyway, so he chased them out of the kitchen and got to work. Once George had his first batch of cookies in the oven, he started planning for the supplementary baked goods. For instance, he was going to make a chocolate souffle for the three of them to share over a midnight supper tomorrow.

So when the kitchen door swung open, letting in a blast of cold air, George spun around scathingly, ready to threaten Lockwood with deflated souffles. But the hiss at the tip of his tongue withered when he saw who it was.

"...Y/N?"

"Hello. Baking, are you?"

George suppressed the urge to shield the vast volumes of confectionary goodie bags littering the kitchen's surfaces.

"...yes." With some difficulty, he slowly resumed his movements, explaining how this was something he did every year. In a way, he was grateful to have something to do with his hands, because the last minute or so reminded him that he had no idea what he normally did with his hands while standing.

"Oh. Need any help?"

It took George another half-minute to process her question. "With what?"

"With the baking, obviously."

"Uh...s'alright, I've got it all handled."

"No, please, I'd love to help."

George paused mid-stir, looking comically perplexed with a smidge of flour on his nose. "What for?" He bit his tongue, hastily back-pedalling since his tone sounded aggressively suspicious. "What I mean is, you wouldn't want to spend your day here, sweating like a pig - not that you sweat, and definitely not like a pig, no - I'm the one sweating like a pig..."

What he wanted to say was, their oven was ancient and so made the kitchen stupid hot every time he baked, but failed miserably. He set down his mixing bowl in defeat. Almost instantly, she stifled a giggle, trying to pass it off as clearing her throat, and George followed her gaze to his apron in horror. What the mixing bowl had previously been hiding was the horrendously cheesy 'kiss the cook' graphic on his apron.

It had been a ridiculous gag gift from Lucy, one that he had never intended to use but was forced to after his last apron caught on fire from one of his experiments with the skull. Bursting into flames would have been more useful now, He stood there, eyes watering from the heat, determined in his refusal to acknowledge both the apron and the smile she was doing a poor job of suppressing.

"Fine. You can start with the cookie batter."

About a minute or two later, it occurred to George that perhaps it would have wise to ask how much experience she had with baking. Not a lot, he soon discovered, when her bowl nearly flew off as soon as she switched on the egg beater. He dropped his mixing bowl instantly, waving away her apologies.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't expect it to be so powerful."

He cautiously adjusted her grip on the bowl, gently guiding her fingers to a better hold.

"No, no, it's my fault. Not much of a baker?"

"...no."

"Okay, so what you do is, use one hand to hold the - other hand - hold the bowl, and the other holds the egg beater like - no, not quite."

He took a step closer, placing his hands over hers, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from her body, and the smell of her shampoo.

The last time they had been this close was on their way home from that play. With Lockwood out of town for a client meeting, and Lucy developing a mysterious case of the flu, it was only the two of them crouched under a tiny umbrella as they walked home after the play. George would have been more than happy to walk in the rain, but she was the one holding the umbrella, and was firm in her resolve to not send him back to Lucy with a head cold. With the little space between them, their cheeks brushed against each other occasionally, sending a jolt running through the side of George's face.

"Well...this is me."

George nodded dumbly, staring hard at the chips in her front door's paint, agonisingly aware of her looking at his face. He didn't dare turn to meet her gaze; they were far too close.

"I had fun today, George."

He sighed and briefly zonesout. As short as their chat was, he remembered very little, his focus only returning when she pulled her key out.

"We should do this again sometime," she was saying, as she turned the key in her lock. When he finally looked at her, there were the tinies raindrops on her eyelashes. There was something so pure and unassuming about the sight that it tugged at his heart. It made him want...more. More with her. With a brief smile, she disappeared into her home, leaving him standing alone in the rain. He stood there for a minute, prolonging the moment for some unidentifiable reason. It was a nice door. She had a nice smile.

It was as though she had read his thoughts from his eyes, for a faintly embarrassed air hung in the kitchen after that. For the next better part of an hour, they engaged in this delicate dance as they floated through the kitchen, carefully staying out of each other's way, never in the same area for long. It wasn't until she was sifting the dry ingredients that they next spoke.

"Hang on, that might be too much flou-"

As George touched her elbow, her hand jerked, sending a sizeable chunk of flour into her mixing bowl, along with a cloud of it directly in her face. He was sorry, of course, but as she spluttered and tried to blink through it, he couldn't stop the amused twist to his features. When she caught his eye, she rolled her eyes and sent a fistful of flour into his eyes. Now it was her turn to laugh as George groaned through the smarting.

"You're right, Mr. Cook, it IS hilarious!"

George scoffed, struggling to maintain his sanctimonius, above-petty-acts front as he wiped his glasses clean with as much dignity as he could muster. But on the inside, his defences were crumbling fast.

"You're acting like a child."

She looked mildly apologetic for a moment, and George felt a flash of truimph, before she raised both her flour-coated hands and resolutely streaked them across George's face.

"Egg on your face. Or should I say, flour?"

With that, all pretenses of civility were thrown out the window. The both of them swept up as many ingredients as they could and migrated to opposite ends of the kitchen table, pelting each other with everything that could be pelted. George landed a few well-aimed chocolate chips into her hair. She soaked the front of his apron with half a jug of milk, which was nearly enough to send him into hysterics. So it went on and on and on, until they ran out of supplies in their immediate reach, before resorting to shoving each other's faces into bags and tins of baking soda and powdered sugar. This, it occurred to George as he was rubbing cornstarch into her red, wheezing face, is strangely intimate.

Again, there was this tugging sensation in his chest, the kind that made him want to sit in his armchair for anywhere from half a minute to half an hour. The kind of sensation that could not be held in words. The closest he could get was the wish for a never-ending summer, or perhaps orchards full of cherry trees as sweet as the first pick. But even that fell short.

Just as she raised two fistfuls of sprinkles, the kitchen door swung open. Lockwood wandered in, looking sharp as ever in his too-small suit. The two of them smoothly parted, their faces burning under the flour, and George suddenly became very interested in the pastry dough he was kneading. He felt rather than saw Lockwood looking back and forth between the two of them, wishing that he'd just take whatever he needed from the kitchen and got out. But of course, he knew better than to engage in wishful thinking, especially with Lockwood's mildly gormless smile plain as day. "Hang on. George, you do realise that-"

Whatever it was that Lockwood was wondering if he had realised was cut off by the jam tart George shoved into his mouth, because the answer was probably yes, Lockwood, of course I realised that completely inane observation.

"Out. Out. I won't have you compromising the integrity of my kitchen." With a little difficulty, George wheeled a spluttering Lockwood littering soft pastry flakes all over his clean kitchen floor out into the hallway. He shut the door firmly and turned back apologetically, only just seeing the flour in her hair as she watched on amusedly.

"I sure hope I'm not starting up a ruckus - or was it compromising the integrity? - of your kitchen."

George felt his cheeks warming as he returned to the kitchen table. "No, of course not. You never know where Lockwood's been, is all. You're different."

Had he been standing this close to her the whole day, he wondered, close enough to see the pretty flakes in her eyes, softer than any pastry he could make? How was he supposed to look away? And how did he stand it?

"Er...I think this dough's ready to be cut into the strips."

"Yes, chef."

He coughed awkwardly, too uncomfortable to come up with any decent sort of response, embarrassedly muttering something along the lines of how there was no need for any of that. As she got absorbed into getting the strips of dough just right, George glanced at the kitchen door, to see Lockwood silently making exaggerated kissy faces at him. George picked up his rolling pin and Lockwood fled immediately, without so much as a creak from the floorboards.

Now, they finally returned to their baking with proper focus, now that they were all tired out. She seemed to have picked up some skills pretty quickly, though he still kept an eye out in case she might do something that would, say, set her hand on fire.

An hour or so later, the phone started ringing obnoxiously in the hallway. With some difficulty, George peeled off one of his disposable gloves on his way to it. When he picked up the phone, he almost wished he hadn't, because it was that same cousin from last Christmas' gathering. As his voice wore on and on, George started wishing he had let Lockwood give him another punch or two, just to set him straight.

Suddenly, he picked out a few startling words from his cousin's nasally voice, which made his heart plummet, as the calendar in the hallway came into startling focus. He wandered back to the kitchen door, numbly hearing his cousin's complaints of why no one's goodie bags had reached yet. He blankly stared at her, and she stared back confused, slowing down her cutting of the strips concernedly. After a second or two, he hung up the phone, but was in too much shock to lower it.

"Today's date," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Today's date. It's not the 13th. I thought it was the 13th. Today is the 14th. Valentine's day was today, not tomorrow."

Even as he was saying those words, the calm look on her face told him exactly what he had feared - that she had known all along.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought this was what you wanted to do!"

"Unpaid labour."

"What?"

"You spent your Valentine's Day doing exhausting, difficult, unpaid labour." He clumsily placed the phone down on the kitchen counter, struggling to find the right words as he fought against the embarrassment. "I am so sorr- just a minute, I might have some loose change somewhere here-"

"Don't." George was spiraling with shame, kicking himself for his oversight, and she still had the gall to look that pretty and kind. "I didn't mind any of it one bit, I promise."

"I promised you something fun."

"George, this is the most fun I've ever had baking, and I've been making pineapple upside down cakes since before I could - oh."

She broke off when she finally looked up to see the growing shock on George's face. She nibbled at the inside of her cheek nervously, trying to gauge his reaction.

"So you do know how to bake."

"Only a little?"

He took in the sight of her apologetic smile, the careful dusting of flour on her face and her suspiciously clean clothes. "You could have said."

"Oh, but I was having so much fun." George rolled his eyes. "I spent the day learning how to construct the most adorable pastry goodie bags I have ever seen, and I did it all with my boyfriend. Believe me, it doesn't get more fun than this."

Not for the first time that day, George stared at her in wonder, like he couldn't quite figure out how she was real. Even now, when all she was doing was merely existing, words failed him. He had a feeling he'd spend lifetimes chasing shadows, trying to pin what was gone before it bloomed, and he still wouldn't be able to find the right words. There was no other way to put it, or colour it - he wished they were more.

He hesitantly extended his hand, brushing just a speck of the huge handprint of flour on her face with his thumb. He turned, walking out into the hallway, but then just as immediately wheeled back.

"Your WHAT?"

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[aemiron-main]

do you think the multiple timeline plot is a plot point that’s more introduced in S4/for the HenVecWard TM plot specifically?

Like is there anything from earlier seasons/not related to Henry you would consider as proof that we’ve been seeing multiple timelines the whole time?

I think it would be kinda odd if multiple timelines are so important to the plot but there’s only real proof of it in S4 so that’s why I’m asking

I LIKE COMPLETELY 100% BELIEVE IT BUT IM REWATCHING RN AND I WANNA SEE IF THERES ANYTHING I SHOULD BE LOOKING OUT FOR

OOHOHOHOH SO!! THERE IS A LOTTTTTT OF ALTERNATE TIMELINE STUFF IN PREVIOUS SEASONS!!!

I totally agree that it would be odd if there was only proof of it in S4- thankfully, there’s evidence across all seasons!

So, let’s get into it!

Evidence of Multiple Timelines/Timeline Weirdness Prior To Season 4

So, one of the main things re: multiple timelines pre-S4 is Will’s vanishing. I touched on this in the Edward video too, but I also have a bunch of posts on it!

Basically, we saw two different Wills back in S1, each possibly from a different timeline.

I made this post, this post, and this post about Warm Will versus Cool Will, but TLDR, we see two different Wills on the night he vanished, one with longer, shaggier hair, who looks older & more exhausted & has cooler colour grading (hence why he’s Cool Will) and one with shorter, neater hair who looks younger & less tired & has warmer colour grading (hence why he’s Warm Will):

And there’s also the two different versions of the Byers’ phone- both versions of the Byers’ phone have “AREA CODE 501” written on the white part, but one version has nothing else underneath “AREA CODE 501” whereas the other version has some extra, unreadable line of text under it:

Which, not only is “501” the wrong area code for Hawkins, but “area 501” also connects to NINA (and all of the NINA timeline weirdness as a result), because the NINA coordinates from S4 lead to area 51.

And then there’s also the two different Wills in Castle Byers- the Will that El sees in Castle Byers in the void is different than the Will that the audience saw singing in Castle Byers (see this post and this post).

How are they different? Well, the Will that El sees in the void is more exhausted, barely able to move or speak- whereas the Will that the audience saw singing in Castle Byers has enough energy to sing and shiver.

And each of them also has a different version of Castle Byers- the Will that El sees in the void has drawings on the wall that are a.) in colour and b.) noticeably wet, wheres the Will that was singing and shivering has drawings on the wall that a.) have no colour and b.) are dry:

And one of the BIGGEST pieces of evidence of multiple timelines in the whole show actually comes from the end of S1 & then ties into the beginning of S2- the newspapers.

I talked about this in this post, this post, and this post, but the article we see at the end of S1 about Will’s vanishing has a TON of alternate timeline stuff.

It’s the article that mentions Richard Brenner, who’s likely Martin’s timeline counterpart or something along those lines (ie if Martin was Henry’s Brenner, Richard was likely Edward’s Brenner, especially considering the connections between Eddie Munson and Reefer Rick versus the subtext there re: Edward Creel and Richard Brenner, especially with Reefer Rick being a drug dealer versus Richard Brenner being the head of narcotics at HNL) (see posts like this post and this post and a bunch of other posts LMAO)

Not to mention all of the weirdness with Joyce in this article, and the fact that according to this article, Joyce claims that she found Will as a test subject at HNL, with no mention of the upside down:

Which ties into something I’ve talked about re: how it’s weird that the lab let will go to a normal hopsital- they were ready to straight up KILL HOPPER to prevent any info about the UD/lab getting leaked, and yet, they supposedly just let will go to a normal hospital instead of keeping him at the lab?

Plus, we never actually SAW joyce and jim leave the UD or the lab with Will- if they somehow escaped the lab & got will to a regular hospital after escaping the lab, how did they get through all of those guarded and locked doors that they had to go through to get to the mothergate?

Especially without a keycard and being vastly outnumbered + carrying a dying kid?

So, I wonder if that scene of Will at the hospital might be a different timeline where Will was found in one of the rooms at HNL, rather than in the UD, and if Joyce and Hopper broke in & got a keycard the way Hopper did earlier in S1/were able to get in and out of the lab & to a normal hospital more easily because Will was in one of the upper rooms & not down through all of those extra guarded doors/quaratine rooms that they had to go through to get to the mothergate.

Especially since that newspaper where Joyce seemingly claimed that Will was found as a HNL test subject also says that Will was currently at Hawkins General Hospital- which is where we see him at the end of S1, so it would make sense for those scenes to be the same timeline as that newspaper clipping (and therefore also in the same timeline as Richard Brenner):

And also, that S1 article is also DIFFERENT from the S2 article about Will’s vanishing despite the two of them seemingly being the SAME ARTICLE, with the same title, the same picture, and the same author (Benjamin Buck), but with different content- they seem to be alternate timeline versions of the same article.

There’s also the matter of Will’s poster and eye colour- the S1 poster says that his eyes are brown, but the Will we see in S2 has greenish-greyish eyes. So, yet again, we seem to have two different Wills, especially since they make a point of showing us what Will would look like with brown eyes when flayed, so they arent just calling his green eyes “brown” as a catch-all term.

Which, speaking of Flayed Will’s eyes, why did Will’s eyes turn brown when he was flayed but Billy’s eyes didn’t?

Why did Billy’s eyes stay blue (although sometimes becoming a more saturated shade of blue much like 1979 massacre Henward’s eyes) whereas Will’s turned brown?

I personally wonder if Will’s eyes changing colour is connected to all of the twinner/timeline stuff, especially with the scene in TFS where Alice asks “Henry” where Henry is and “Henry” responds with “he’s right here,” as if he himself isn’t Henry- does flaying somehow combine the two versions of people from alternate timelines?

And as a result, did we get Edward and Henry in the same body/connected mentally somehow/combined (therefore explaining that Alice scene), and were the two Wills combined, therefore explaining the eye colour change if the other Will has brown eyes?

I feel like there’s something here re: flaying & the idea of the hivemind being active across timelines (ie if two people are flayed, but theyre both in different timelines, would they be able to communicate with eachother via the hivemind/would they be connected to the same hivemind?)

Is that why Billy’s eyes didn’t turn brown? Because Billy’s alternate timeline self also has blue eyes? Anyway!

S1 is also the season where Mr Clarke brings up the idea of parallel universes/infinite alternate timelines:

And Connie Frazier from S1 is likely Alice Creel- but not Henry’s sister, Alice- Edward’s mother, Alice (see: this post ), hence how she’s still alive after 1959- she’s not the Alice that we saw laying dead on the floor, this Alice was an adult in 1959 & is Edward’s mother, not his sister, and is Victor’s wife, not his daughter, as according to the Edward paper/Indianapolis Gazette, Edward’s mother was named Alice and his sister was named Virginia, his mother and sister are swapped compared to Henry.

And then, in S2, we have my beloved 8:15gate, which, TLDR, there’s footage on Bob’s JVC on Halloween when Will was using it to record that a.) has timestamps that change when they shouldnt (ie, when Will was supposedly recording the footage, it says 8:04, but when Joyce watches that EXACT same clip back, it suddenly says 8:15) and b.) has footage that shouldnt even exist, because some of the scenes that he supposedly recorded are scenes where he HAD THE CAMERA DOWN AND WAS NOT RECORDING! That footage shouldnt even exist! And yet, it’s there, with a messed up timestamp.

Not to mention all of the stuff in S2 that directly contradicts TFS & reinforces the idea of multiple timelines (for example, in S2, Bob talks about how Joyce didnt even know his name in highschool- whereas in TFS, not only do the two know eachother well in highschool, but Bob also claims to have known Joyce since first grade).

And in S3, there’s a bunch of stuff (including the idea that S3 is its own weird timeline), but one example is what I talked about in this post re: the reference to temporal displacement in S3 and there’s a bunch more in S3/I’m just keeping this relatively brief LMAO!

And that’s not even all of it across the seasons! Not by a LONG shot, these are just a few little examples! The multiple timeline weirdness stretches all across ST, through every season and affects every character- although Henward is more overtly tied to it than the other characters, ALL of them are still tied to it, and there’s evidence of multiple timelines in every season- hell, like I said, some of the best evidence comes from S1, because that’s where we find out about Richard!

[orbch]

How do you feel about the PimpLincoln thing going on in tiktok?

its funny u ask bc i actually wrote an extremely in depth and probably over dramatic and embarrassing 700 word rant about it last night (that i will shorten and paraphrase for The People lol)

• Not a fan of it obv. it IS comedic because of how utterly ridiculous it is but like.. im tired. so i blocked the person lol, like idc if its satire or not i dont wanna see it

• not to be the “friend thats too woke” but people reposting and drawing it so much weirds me out because its like…ur reposting and drawing art of the incest prostitution harem!?!? which is weird?!?! like EVEN as a joke???

• this kind of tlh content is so… common in the fandom, that if the video DIDNT GO VIRAL on tiktok, tlh fans wouldve just been like “sighh… average tuesday” and moved on…. the NORMAL tlh fans (all 5 of us) already usually have to deal with the weird content the gross tlh fans make (and non fans making fun of the fandom as a whole), but now we have to avoid weird content from gross fans AND NON FANS! (we are working overtime…)

• those are just the logistics of me not liking it. i also hate it because well. its an EGREGIOUS and frankly DISGUSTING mischaracterization of one of my favorite characters ever (lincoln) and just torture porn of characters i love and genuinely enjoy (all of the sisters (and the ooc clyde will make me evil too)) so yeahhh…. (which, feel free to call me over sensitive for this because idrc, but who wouldnt dislike a wildly spread meme of a nasty ooc depiction of their favorite character…)

• im really excited for tiktok to be banned i cant wait ^w^

[boxheadpaint]

diary post baby. Heavier than usual or at least probably but i dont know or remember a good portion of the things ive ever said about myself on this line. For the normal guys though i had fun making that comic, usually when i get the motivation to make anything in that format i get pretty bummed about it pretty quickly simply because of the paneling

its fun to imagine making dynamic pages of comic panels, but when you have no experience beyond trying to make manga in your teens you mostly just have the squares/rectangles stacked next to eachother. for anyone else this is fine and isnt boring to look at by its nature alone, but for me i always believe that my own work would be too dull and unexciting to eye-catching to even bother reading. trying to just lose that pressure i give myself for a day and make something silly like some animals looking at eachother is nice

one of the things i kept hearing from my own head during the call about The Good News Of Getting Disability Income And Payment For The Time I Wasn't Recieving Benefits, was that i needed to kill myself for some reason. my body reacts badly to experiencing a lot of things, though of course its worst when its negative feelings. not even particularly strong ones, maybe a little nervous or a little mad and it likes to tremble or tense up totally. i dont know why exactly i reacted in this particular way other than the usual "what do you mean i dont need to freak out about this anymore. what am i going to do with all this freaking out juice? just chug it?"

im worried lately that ive built up too much of a tolerance to my sertraline, if thats something that happens. but i dont know for sure, and i dont know what ill do if that is the case. maybe it is still working and i just cant tell because even though its bad things would be much worse if i stopped taking it. it just feels like these days it doesnt do anything to help me feel better or more in control. can i speedrun making it work again by going cold turkey for a week and then getting back on it so my brain is like wow this awfulness stopped after i took this awesome pills.

can i give the money i recieve from social security to someone else to save? is that legal? or do they hunt you down for sport for doing that. what if you wanted to buy a house. or rent a house. Or just fucking live somewhere because these days prices are fucking absurd. ridiculous even.

hey girl, rat piss. hey girl, rat piss. I realize other than the blue puppy video i havent posted anything for pride. partly of anxieties of course, especially given the Great track record of the site withing the past month, but also straight up forgetfulness. I keep forgetting too many things and being too tired to remember. At night though i can do just about anything. I think ill take a nap and then wake up at 2 am to keep drawing. I have things to draw

6/24/2024

[scarlet-ancunin]

hello again, I wanted to thank you again for your Patience with me and explaining everything I really appreciate it.^-^ I Send you the Infos for my tav and was wondering If I could get Like Astarions pov :) be fluffy, be angsty, Go wild, im honestly Just Happy about this opportunity. Thank you so so much again ^-^

A/n: hehe I love this and you are welcome i'm glad you asked me to do this for you. I hope this is to your liking~ this fic is based off of your unique Tav ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

My Dear Idiot~

It was another lovely morning in the camp. Gale was making breakfast for everyone in their Group while the others were either packing up or freshening up. For Astarion it was the latter. he may not be able to see his reflection but he knows how to draw attention to himself. it can be good or bad. good for his look but bad for his snarky remarks or attitude. Soon Astarion's eyes land on Egon, his half-elf companion. when he first met him he wanted to see the man dead assuming he was working with those mindflayers having a knife to the poor man's throat. Turns out he didn't have to spill their innards. Astarion saw that Egon was somewhat like him with trust issues. But they slowly both grew on each other. But damn was this man greedy at times. Astarion scoffed at the memory. they found a hidden cave behind some carefully crafted rubble to look normal, but Egon wanted to go in, and he hated it because he used to enter without knowing if they were walking into a trap or if everyone was downright tired. "Why in the hells are we doing this now we can rest here and then check it out in the morning Egon" Astarion would complain standing by the entrance with his arms crossed. Egon was annoyed but he smiled because he wanted to get his hands on any rare trinkets or gold he could get his hands on. "well I'm not tired Astarion i want to get everything now so that way we can have something to sell or keep for ourselves to use. AND, what if someone else gets it before us?" Egon stated Astarion growls "You are so bloody stubborn what about Me- I mean, everyone else ever considered they are tired" Gale tried not to laugh. "well how about we go in halfway and make camp that way if someone tries to enter we can stop him. Halsin nodded smiling. "seems good," Egon said sighing in defeat. Astarion did admire his determination though like when he mentioned to him about Cazador he made it his business to promise to protect him from his master. "sweet love but he isn't a simple vampire you can kill he can come at any time whenever the mood strikes him." "well I can strike him too and he won't see it coming" Egon counters pouting slightly. Astarion rolled his eyes "your such an idiot." Egon snickers "but I'm your idiot" Astarion hums low looking at Egon "well you have a point." Astarion would chuckle at the memory he was indeed a stubborn idiot but he did care about him and how strong and determined he was to anything he set his mind to. and because of this Astarion wanted to make sure he does small things to let Egon know he was grateful for him. Astarion recalled last night's events and smiled fondly because he found out his lover enjoys being read to. However, he would enjoy it when He reads specifically. he would fall asleep with everyone else but he and Egon make sure he was cuddled next to Astarion listening to him read. and when he was tired he would tell him to stop so he wouldn't miss the next part which makes him laugh but soon join him in slumber or rather he sleeps while he meditates. Astarion snaps out of his daydreaming to look at Egon once more who just so happens to be reading a map to locate a treasure that was in Baldur's Gate. Astarion did love this man during all this and now he was certain that maybe there could be a future for them. minus the possible stupid and rash decisions but where is the fun in simplicity? Shaking his head he would walk toward him and shake his head. he leans against him and looks over the map as well. "hm something to get love" Egon grins and nods sharing the map there is a way into this spot through the graveyard" Astarion snorts "ah my darling idiot always doing instead of thinking."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

A/n: I hope you enjoyed this, my friend. as always requests are open and you're welcome to send me your unique Tav if that is what you want.

[cloudstongue]

art dump before zee goes to sleep but everything is captioned (woohoo tags @zeeposting @desklamper @ryuatewater) oh yeah most of these are angsty lyric art bcuz i felt more emo than usual yesterday (most were made yesterday at night)

my first time drawing globe ever. it was good but then whiteboard fox was stubborn bc i accidentally deleted stuff so now its “layered” kinda wrong and looks wonky

ahhh yes. sad

redraw of the first one i made this morning, id say ive improved

THIS WAS LAST NIGHT AND BEFORE THEY ARE NOW MUTUALLY MADLY IN LOVE…also i dont trust desklamper in writing a healthy relationship (sorry)

they are the besties ever

like one pot drawing bc i dont like the way i draw him (ill make more art for ryu i swear…maybe just wb im only slightly good at drawing her)

just a silly rapier :3 because i like him a normal amount. uh originally i was gonna draw him with stickers and a kiss mark but i quit bcuz im a LOSER and dont know how to draw kiss marks and cant come up with good sticker ideas that arent cats and stars so…yeah. mic was gonna be there too but uh im tired WHY IS THE CAPTION A WHOLE PARAGRAPH UM???

[urfavnegronerd]

stars in the sky- phora + jhene aiko

trope: fluff, s/o mick for the idea in my ask box smooches 

sum slight 

warnings: grammarly hates me, reader has trouble sleeping bc i said so (i’ve had so much trouble falling asleep idk why), no use of pronouns but use of mama, ma, n mami, idk how much i like it but im outa slump so yay, lmk if i missed anything

published: august 15, 2023

song lyrics are italicized   

w/c: 1.3k ish

reader is black-coded like always 

stay in the state of the greatest bliss 

Miles’ room was dark. Well, dark-ish. He tried though, pulling the curtains all the way shut, turning off the light in his room and the hallway, but the afternoon sun still gently weaved its way through the fibers of his curtains. 

“What’s the point of this, Miles?” 

“To get you to try and sleep,” 

“It's four in the afternoon,” 

“Naptime,” 

“What?” 

“Just try, mama, okay?”  

You’d never been a good sleeper and usually stayed awake while Miles fell asleep in your arms, that was how it usually went. Even more so when he came to your window late at night after his Prowler duties, those visits mainly consisted of cleaning any wounds or scratches, on occasion giving him stitches, helping him change, and kissing the top of his head when he inevitably dozed off on your chest. You were usually up then anyway, it was a fun addition to your nighttime routine. Miles had only begun to worry about your sleeping patterns when you fell asleep at 9 am while you were over his, watching a telenovela with Mrs. Morales. Gently nudging you awake after the telenovela marathon at about 1 that afternoon, he fell into the pattern of observing your moods. Most of which during the day consisted of you constantly being tired, and yawning, but somehow always getting school work done that assisted in your straight A’s. At first, he assumed that it was just you putting too much pressure on yourself to perform, but when he realized these patterns continued well into school breaks, he started to worry. 

He had started to realize that every time he came to your window after his Prowler work, you were up anyway, reading, writing, drawing, or pretty much any activity you could get your hands on. Again, at first, he thought this was endearing, and went as far as getting puzzles for you after he had interrupted the puzzle on the floor when he gently knocked on your window. And so a much-needed conversation ensued the morning after.

“Ma, I’m worried about you,”  

“For why Miles?” You turn your attention away from the mirror where you’re laying your baby hair down. 

“Ian never seen you sleep,” 

“So?” 

“Do you sleep?” 

“Yeah, I just have some trouble with it is all,” 

“I don’t make you sleepy?” 

“You make me feel safe, comfortable, relaxed, and loved, but no Miles, you don’t make me sleepy,” 

He huffed, falling back onto your duvet. 

“What's wrong papá?” 

“I’m worried about you,” 

“Sueñito, you don’t need to be worried about me,” 

“You fall asleep when most people would be awake starting their days, almost always during the first and second period, mama, that's not normal,” 

“Maybe I’m just sleepy in general,” You were beginning to get defensive then, why did he care if you were tired usually? 

He sighed then, rubbing his eyes and urging himself out of your bed. He didn’t want to fight with you, he never wanted to fight with you, so he had just decided to leave it alone then. However, the very same conversation was repeated about two weeks later. The two of you were walking home, as school had gotten out early that day, and you had slowly begun to slump onto Miles’ shoulder, yawning and rubbing your eyes. 

“Ma?” There was a twinge of concern in his voice, it was barely even noon, is it normal to be this tired? “You okay?”  

“‘m just tired,” You yawn, still clawing at your eyes. 

“It’s 11:45,” 

“So?” 

“Mama,” he knew you were just being stubborn, but he also knew you didn’t want to admit that you had a problem sleeping. You didn’t like to ask for help, you tried to get things right on your own, and you usually did. “Be honest.” 

“Fine,” you forced out, shame tugging at your cheeks, and Miles knew exactly what you meant by that

“Thank you,”  

And so, the two of you were here, in this moment. 

“Please? Just try for me,” 

You huff plopping onto his mattress. 

“Now what?” 

“We wait,” 

“Oh, joy,”

whenever i’m in your atmosphere  

The two of you had been lying, in the dark, for about an hour and a half. Naturally, the sun was slowly beginning to set, hence dimming the light in his room. 

At this point, you were fighting sleep. It’s not like you didn’t feel exhausted all the fucking time, it’s that you had this mental block in your head. It’s like when you’re so tired but you can’t manage to fall asleep, like someone is forcing your eyes open. It’s hell, and it frustrates you, makes you want to scream and cry and essentially just throw a tantrum. Not that you’d ever admit it, but you feel so powerless, so out of control. A sigh mixed with anger, frustration, and disappointment breezes through your lips as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

“Uh uh ma, don’t do that,” he whispers, gently pushing your hands away from your eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“This isn’t working,” you whine. “I turn seventeen in a year and I can’t even sleep right,” 

“Hey hey hey, it’s not that serious,” 

“I’m so tired, Miles,” you mumble, tears poking at your eyes. 

“Amor, I know it’s frustrating, okay? I know how much you love to be in control and I get that, but this is so bad for you,” 

“I know,” 

“So can we try? Just one more time?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Do you want like, some kind of noise?” 

“Can you just talk?” 

“Yeah. I can do that,” 

And he does. He talks about anything and everything, all while staring at you, your body pressed against him, your face angled upwards at him. Your full lips slightly parted in a little ‘o’ as your big brown eyes ogle up at him. To a lot of people, everything he’s saying would seem pretty mundane, but the way his voice soothes you is something different. His voice is calm, cool, and collected, his nuyo accent ever so prominent. 

You’re not sure just how much time passes until you slowly begin to get groggy, your eyes heavy. Miles, obviously, takes notice and brings his voice down to a whisper. 

“Dad woulda been so happy I met you, ma,” 

Your movements are thick as syrup, you nod, trying to open your eyes more so he knows that he has your full attention. 

“No no no, don’t do that,” he whispers, running a hand over your eyes, forcing them to droop lazily once again. 

“Jus wan’ you to know ‘m listening” you slur, languidly clutching his wrist. The point of this action? You didn’t know, but you held onto him anyway. 

“You’re always listening, Ian gotta worry bout that.” He mumbles, softly stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His hands are calloused and rough, but they’re always soft and gentle, making sure to love every curve of you. As your eyes begin to wilt close, he delicately traces your cupid bow, in response to which your lightly freckle-kissed nose scrunches, your brows tightly knitting themselves together. With a quiet laugh, he gently runs his fingers over your eyebrows, desperately trying to relax your face, to which you hum tiredly in response. 

“Kiss?” 

“Mmmm,” you groan, fatigue finally catching up to you, in affirmation. Taking the hint, he kisses you- your cheeks, chin, jaw, everywhere– peppering light butterfly kisses all over your face. Gently, you sigh and fully close your eyes, your head relaxing into the pillow. Smiling, he brushes gentle kisses onto both of your eyelids and then your nose. Cradling your head into his chest he kisses the bonnet covering your hair, inhaling the scent of hair product and oil, the scent of you, something he adored in a way that words couldn’t describe. 

“Sleep, princesa.”

i’m so glad that i got you, you’re my dream come true <3

a/n: everyone say thank u mick @lunarfleur

taglist: @hiimayee @masaidabest @lunarfleur @zo3ez @miguellover6969 @heyimveejoyner@yahoo.com (idk if this person is on tumblr or not but hey!) @nagi3seastorm @kombuuuu

reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

xoxo,

rae <3

p.s. taglist form in my masterlist as well as my spam lmao

[sentientstump]

Hi Stump!

How do you typically set yourself up for drawing? Is it an almost ritualistic practice (having a set location, time, and/or headspace and so forth) or something you relax into when something else isn't happening (like voluntarily holding your breath and then returning to normal breathing)? Do you enjoy whichever of these you experience, or is it just part of the process?

And what was the last kind of bug you saw? :D

Hi Max! Looking back... yes, i did have set ups for drawing! Let me try to remember something..

I usually was in my 1×2(ish) bed after dinner time and homework time, sitting leaning on pillow leaning on wall. I usually had no one to talk to in those late times, so i was bored and also itching to do something, to make use of free time. I guess i dont have that much "free time" anymore, i talk to two people per day now! (so, that explains the tumbleweeds here at the moment, i am a busy man Bl ...LOL)

i would usually put something to listen to at the same time? Music, songs (from only one band), original scores from different games i was normal about, hermitcraft episodes, video essays, streams and i think that's it

Big thing about me drawing in that pose is that i would get an increasing urge to fall to the left side, head on pillow and continue to draw that way? But listening to anything would be compromised, because left side now has pressure from the pillow! So it hurts now! I think I've grown since when i was a teenager when i wouldn't get that urge so quickly... Time goes.

I like to draw when it's pitch black. It feels safer somehow, maybe the screen could be lowered in brightness. In summer that can't happen, because we get lighter skies at night.

I like to post what i draw right away and not linger on it for too long. So i can close the art program for good and breathe out. If i catch a mistake later, then it's not my problem anymore, so yippee!

oh yeah and no glasses. their frame is too thick to see clearly. and i cannot get rid of smears 100%, so i could get tired eyes if im not careful i guess.

i saw a mosquito an hour ago, and it's one of those light kind? like it's smaller, less rigid, and most importantly more ANNOYING. i remember grumbling about them in my sleep last year, about their noise, how louder it sounded compared to other kinds.

Other than that.... I saw a black with a red stripe in the middle fuzzy caterpillar on a pavement side block. I was in a hurry so i didn't process it very much :c... wbu! :D