#anyways i'm so proud of him <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[strategist-scientia]

Just when I thought I couldn't love him any more than I already do, he does this

[pato-roldnart]

I did a little something for @hd-fan-fair 😊😊 I hope you all like pet sitter Harry and wildlife illustrator Draco!!!

Special thanks to @bubble-gumhead, @orange-peony and @avenueofesc for encouraging me to participate, you guys are the best 💕💕💕

Based on this prompt: Draco has received news of a rare magical creature sighting and has been called in to illustrate the animal and it’s natural habitat/den. Only problem is: he can’t find anyone to pet sit his beloved animals and seeks outsider help by hiring a pet sitter through a wizarding company. Enter: Harry James Potter, pet sitter extraordinaire and living his best life hanging out with animals all over Britain, enjoying the vast and interesting towns and houses he finds himself in. Draco, loves his animals so much and asks to have regular contact through letters.

Letter's text after the cut

Dear Potter, I am writing to ask for your help again to take care of my pets. Unfortunately for me, they seem to have grown on you and they have been misbehaving with any other pet sitter. I have no idea why they speak fondly of you and find you so charming. Nevertheless, I was pleased to see that they were in good hands last time.

I hope you have a good rest and enough energy since the next seventy-two hours you will be dealing with their curious, mischievous, and overly friendly nature. Until next time, D. M.

[ghost-proofbaby]

It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall. 

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?” 

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold. 

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him. 

Something unspoken. Something homely. 

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.” 

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion. 

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire. 

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?” 

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?” 

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room. 

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use. 

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him. 

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?” 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.” 

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.” 

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him. 

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm. 

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.” 

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch. 

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently. 

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back. 

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home. 

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-” 

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.” 

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.” 

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair. 

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient. 

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him. 

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you. 

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.” 

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?” 

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.” 

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum. 

You never grow tired of it. You never will. 

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always. 

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.” 

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-” 

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him. 

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.” 

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside. 

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly. 

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days. 

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso. 

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle. 

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.” 

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off. 

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep. 

I love you.

I adore you. 

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. 

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you. 

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?” 

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

[javierduffy]

but when they're out on that river bank alone, what javier should be loyal to doesn't feel as confusing anymore

[ayy-lmao0]

So uhm. Lord Peepers, am I right?

Edit: fanart and generally using this design is VERY VERY MUCH APPRECIATED I will melt and die out of happiness if you do so, just credit me! ^^

[pixelatedraindrops]

M: “You poor thing. Playing in the river isn’t a good idea in Kanai Ward you know!"

Y: (Who is he…? And why is he doing this for me…?)

A drawn scene based on my alt headcannon I made long back, and I even tried to make a small fic on it. (HUGE SPOILERS)

and tbh I just wanted to draw makoto feeding yuma something while he was completely helpless :3 dw the porridge is edible, he had someone else make it so yuma isn't in any danger.

Unmasked version (just because)

(he's too pretty to have the mask on for long)

(no shinigami since this is post game???)

this is like the 3rd or 4th time yuma got sick on one of his visits to kanai ward due to overworking himself out there

what is makoto to do with his silly workaholic original... (like he's one to talk lmao)

[gxtzeizm]

Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell congratulating Keegan Palmer for winning his Olympics gold medal in Skateboarding Park for the 2nd time in a row ✨️✨️

[piskelo10]

Loomk I did drawring

[l0ganberry]

Here is some doodles I did of Bob Velseb.

Just to match my instant brainrot of him

all without notes

[sysig]

He was a human pirate, which you wouldn’t think you’d have to specify and yet (Patreon)

[jichanxo]

hiding the evidence (badly)

[moogghost]

but i'm not ready to forget

me when i randomly remember a minor character in warrior cats that i was obsessed with several years ago that i came up with a whole headcanon backstory for and feel the need to draw him again years later despite not touching warrior cats since then

[pardonmydelays]

i had so much fun last night omg

[steakout-05]

AOZ Total Apocalypse Barry Redesign

so last year, i posted a couple of sketches of this design i had for Barry Steakfries in a scenario/AU where AOZ was a complete survivalist apocalypse. i really like the design i came up with, but my art style has matured and changed a lot since that original post, and i thought i'd give TA!Barry a revamp with an updated style and more details than i initially gave him :D

here is his new and improved design!!! + an image for comparison

(sorry for the image being comically big lol)

his design was originally based on Barry's Monster Hunter skin from Magic Brick Wars where he's seen with a scratch over his right eye and i thought that was a really cool skin for him, so i made a whole alternate universe design from that. thing is though...... the eyepatch in the original design i made was on the wrong eye. so like. i had to fix that lol. i also felt that the design didn't look visually distinct enough? like it's different from the OG inspiration but i felt like it needed more, so i gave him some boots, a belt, shifted around his injuries and gave him a different hairstyle. i really like the hairstyle i gave him, it looks messy and disheveled and yet is still reminiscent of who Barry was before the apocalypse and i also came up with it in like 10 seconds :3 also, i felt like his tie kind of cluttered the design a bit and didn't feel necessary, so it's now wrapped around his left leg as a makeshift brace.

Total Apocalypse is something i've actually thought out a story outline for, so the next few paragraphs are just gonna be me spoiling explaining the lore and why Barry looks the way he does, along with some other stuff :D (this ended up being WAY longer than i intended it to be lmaoooo)

the general story of Total Apocalypse is about how a catastrophic event occurs after Professor Brains mysteriously goes missing, in which an extremely powerful and unstable version of the AOZ Zomb Bomb goes off and sends a shockwave throughout all of time that throws the entire timeline into becoming a complete apocalyptic wasteland that sends all of civilisation back 100 years and kills millions. Barry and Craig, who appear to be the sole survivors of the event, crawl out of the wreckage of the professor's laboratory and must find a way to survive and possibly restore what was destroyed, rebuild a new life from the ashes or abandon ship and try to find an entirely new timeline where none of this ever happened. the story is pretty focused on the characters and how their personalities could change based on the events they go through. it's kind of a "what if i put these two through hell" type of thing lol.

i haven't planned this out completely, but the whole reason the apocalypse happens is because Brains has been slowly going absolutely insane after defeat after defeat and is planning to completely destroy the timeline of any and all trace of Barry Steakfries for good. he ends up having a lot more get in his way than trying to plot the destruction of Barry however, and it only makes him spiral more and more. the thing that tips Brains over the edge is Glorebax repeatedly trying to stop his plans both out of Brains wasting valuable resources on weird experiments and genuine concern for his wellbeing, as Brains has been acting extremely erratic, choosing to isolate himself in a secret underground lab for several weeks at a time and lashing out at anyone who irritates him even a little bit. shit happens, Glorebax discovers the lab and almost manages to completely stop Brains' plans and confiscate his scientific equipment, but he ends up being murdered by Brains in cold blood, taking over RBC and enforcing a sort of dictatorship over the lab and his subjects.

Barry and Craig catch wind of Brains' strange behaviour, and they come across a group of scientists (possibly the Science Team, haven't decided yet) who usher them into an alleyway and explain to them that Brains has been formulating an extremely destructive plan with highly experimental technology, and that if Barry and Craig don't try to stop him soon, the entire timeline as they know it may be completely wiped out. the scientists also explain that they've been in hiding for months and had direct access to Brains' experimental technology. they managed to smuggle it out of the lab to develop specialised gadgets for Barry and Craig to use to protect themselves, should their attempt to stop Brains go sour. they don't know when or where Brains is planning to attack, but they would keep Barry and Craig updated if anything changed.

they never heard a single update from those scientists ever again. not one word. for all they knew, those scientists had just entirely dropped off the face of the earth. the alert that something horrible had happened was extremely sudden. Legitimate Research's scientists rushed and scrambled to send a memo to the duo when they had detected extreme levels of energy coming from a small opening underground. Barry and Craig rushed to the lab as soon as they could, but when they got there, a panicking scientist immeduately shoved them into a nearby portal, crying out that there was absolutely no time to prepare and that they had to stop Brains now. but unfortunately for them, it was already too late. Brains had already activated the bomb, and there were merely seconds left to react, quickly activating the protection gadget, Barry leaps onto Craig and shoves him behind a nearby cabinet, shielding him with his body as the blast ruptured through the laboratory, tearing it and everything surrounding it apart piece by piece as the shockwave ripped through the atmosphere like it was nothing.

miraculously, Barry and Craig survive the blast, though not unscathed at they find themselves trapped under layers of debris and thick heavy dirt. luckily though, the gadget had also survived the blast, although barely, as its power was quickly starting to drain and flicker away, jeaopardising their survival. acting fast, Barry yanked Craig up from the ground and used the gadget's forcefield to deflect the wreckage away as they both hurriedly climbed out into the surface, where they found...

nothing. absolutely nothing. everything they had ever known had been completely and utterly wiped away. what was once a lively neighbourhood full of cosy houses and families was transformed into a horrific wasteland littered with the barely recognisable rotting remains of a life that no longer existed anymore. Legitimate Research's laboratory had completely vanished. the skies were no longer blue and sunny. they were instead painted with a sickly and unnatural green hue, which in itself was being strangled away by a thick and ominous dark smog that turned the whole world black. the grass was no longer green. it was grey, burnt and withered, with every single surrounding plant being reduced to a barely recognisable shrivel of its former self. it was as though the earth had been completely sucked of its life force, and the only thing that was left was a zombified carcass that only persisted because there was no hell lower than here for it to go to. the only thing Barry and Craig could do was stare, completely frozen in place as the feeling of pure, unadulterated terror and dread washed over them, and they realised they had failed their mission. they couldn't save it in time. everyone was counting on them to save their world from a terrible fate, and they failed. and now, everything was gone.

so after all that exposition: why does Barry look the way he does? wtf happened to him? well, at some point in the story, Barry ends up in an ambush that leads to him being brutally attacked by a horde of flesh-eating zombies, and he is in REALLY rough shape. he's quickly outnumbered by just how many zombies there were, causing him to lose an eye and have his entire arm torn off. this immediately sends his body into a pained shock, and he would have ended up as zombie food if it weren't for Craig swooping in at the last second, repelling the zombie horde away and getting him the hell out of there. this scene is supposed to have huge character significance for both Barry and Craig, as it exposes both of their biggest flaws and establishes a major character arc for them. the reason Barry ended up in a huge zombie squabble was because he was in a state of denial that the world they knew was gone now, trying to act as though everything would be fine if they just tracked down a time-travel device and distracting himself by trying to be the tough action hero. he couldn't handle his crushing guilt over the fact that he failed to stop the world from being destroyed and tried to "make up for it" by repeatedly saving the day and refusing to let anything stop him until he was sure he won. Barry severely overestimated how much he could handle on his own and got severely hurt in the process, which gave him a huge reality check that things aren't just going to return to how they once were anymore, no matter how much he wants them to. losing his arm and becoming disabled puts things in perspective for Barry and makes him realise that no matter how much of a hero he wants to be, he's still only human, and the only thing left to do now is to try to adapt and survive. but at the same time, losing something as important as his arm so suddenly in an attack he deliberately went into out of extreme guilt for something be believed he was the sole cause of sends him into a deep depression, and he isn't sure if he can live on like this. he gets better though :3

as for Craig, i haven't fully thought out what happens to him yet. i know i want him to become more courageous and play the role of a no-nonsense combat medic. the significance of the zombie attack scene for him is that it explores Craig's biggest flaw: his fear. Craig has always considered himself a coward. he's often too afraid to face any danger on his own and instead hides away and shuts his eyes until it's all over. this has lead to some pretty bad self-esteem issues and a never-ending cycle of anxiety and guilt. he knows how much of a coward he is. he's hyper-aware of it, in fact. the cycle goes like this: Craig becomes afraid of a dangerous situation -> his immediate reaction is to flee and hide, waiting for someone else to sort out the danger for him or for the danger to sort itself out -> Craig emerges unscathed, but incredibly guilty that he did nothing to save himself and had to rely entirely on the help of others to save him, especially if the danger could have put that person in significant harm -> he ruminates on this guilt, his mind declaring himself a coward and a damsel for being unable to help himself in the face of danger -> Craig is left incapacitated by guilt, thinking himself a worse person for being afraid and deciding that because he couldn't save himself, he'd be too helpless and weak to get himself out of any danger on his own, so he doesn't even try -> repeat.

so, here he is, in another dangerous situation where he could get severely hurt if he doesn't flee and hide away. he's incredibly scared, and because of the way he's conditioned himself to feel about his abilities, he does what he would always do in a situation like this: he hides and watches from the sidelines until the danger goes away. but as he watches on from his little hiding place, a horrible feeling of dread burns up inside him as he notices that Barry is struggling. he's struggling a lot. they're all closing in on him, and he's visibly scrambling to reload his shotgun in time before another zombie attempts to pounce on top of him, and he's running out of strength to just keep pushing them away without the opportunity to attack them back. Craig's entire body is struck with intense burning adrenaline, his heart practically beating out of his chest as he realises that he NEEDS to get out there and help his partner before he's eaten alive. hiding away won't do him any good now. the only way to save this is to attack. with trembling knees and shaking fists, he quickly dashes into action, grabbing a bag full of medical supplies he had stashed nearby and snatching up a blunt metal pole and bolting towards the horde of zombies. he charges at them at full speed, nearly tripping over his own feet from the sheer velocity he was willing to go just to save the one he loves. he raises his weapon and swings hard into the face of his enemies, striking and shoving his way through the horde as he advances closer and closer to Barry's whereabouts. terror fills his entire body as he hears Barry's bloodcurdling cries of pain, and a voice inside his mind tells him that it's already too late to save him and that he should run away while he has the chance. but even then, Craig still persists, his entire form having already gone into overdrive, each cry for help only making him advance faster and faster through the horde. his body was like a machine, instantly converting terror into energy, which only increased the more and more fear he felt.

finally, he had done it. with one last mighty whack of his weapon to the head of a zombie who was about to plunge its teeth into Barry's chest, he quickly hoistered the injured monster hunter up onto his shoulders and made a mad dash into the distance, trying to get as far away from the horde as he possibly could. he had ran into the entrance of a dark and musty abandoned house and, once the coast was clear, urgently tore open the medical bag and spilled an anti-septic solution all around the torn stump where Barry's arm once was and laid him down to rest. his limbs were shaking like mad, his heart felt as though it were going to burst, and his mind was echoing with an ear-piercingly loud drum that just kept beating and beating and beating against his skull. he was absolutely and totally wracked with fear. but he did it. he had proven himself. he was no longer a coward. oh yeah and his bf was safe too yaaaaayyyy!!

ok so. after spoiling literally everything that happens in the story, this is my new and improved redesign for TA!Barry :D i'm really proud of it and i'm really glad i decided to revisit it again!! i want to make a design for Craig but it's like 12 am right now and i've spent WAY too much time writing this damn post and spilling out every idea i have for this au looolll. hopefully reading allat wasn't too much. i love my little apocalypse idiot and i want to draw him again some time! he's fun to draw :D (also i forgot to mention some things, like how Barry uses the brace-and-go and hollywood one-armed shotgun techniques, how i wanted to put a symbol on his eyepatch and how i want to come up with a design for a robotic arm Craig would make for him later in the story, but it's so late and i'm so tired that i'm not gonna bother adding that in,.,, ecks dee)

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU in which when you touch your soulmate you swap bodies. It needs to be skin on skin contact and is instant. The only way to get back in the previous body is to touch again, otherwise you're stuck like that.

No matter the body all psychological and physical damage stays with you. That means if you get hurt then swap bodies, you will still feel it despite no longer having the wounds. This is only the case of existing wounds prior to swapping ; if new wounds happen to the hurt body after the swap you won't feel them, but the person in the body when it happens will. A very complicated way of saying that you can't get away from pain by swapping bodies with your soulmate as it will follow you.

There's no known consequences to not changing bodies back once swapped, though some might get sick for a few days after swapping back if they waited a long period of time to change back (say over a month, even longer depending on individual)

Now this but, you know... JeanMarco. And of course they find out during their time in the 104th Training Corps, because there's no way their skin didn't touch at least once in +3 years of training and being as close as they are. It isn't until break when they're able to visit home that they learn what it truly means ; up until that point they used it to swap chores (is the only reason why Jean didn't try to kill Eren during their shared chores- because it was actually Marco all along). At that point they knew each other perfectly.

Of course the whole situation was a little bit awkward for both of them when returning. They probably would end up avoiding each other for a bit because teenager boys and stuff, all until someone finally got the guts to mention the tension and ask them what's wrong- which forces them to talk and stuff. Doesn't matter, this is not what I want to talk about.

But the beautiful battle of Trost and what if, hypothetical speaking of course, they touch skin after Jean gets another ODM? And they're so used with each other by now, they don't even notice until the mission is nearly done anyway. And I don't know man, the idea of Jean dying while in Marco's body? Marco (in Jean's body) saying "I need to find Marco" once the mission is a success and research for his soulmate, just for him to not find him?? Not find him until 3 days later when some of them are assigned cleaning duty in Trost and he finds his own fucking body bitten in half???

The realization that it should've been Marco who died that day, but didn't because he was in Jean's body. The realization that not only his soulmate is dead, but he's stuck living his life. He's stuck living the life Jean can't because he died in Marco's place.

SEEING YOUR DEAD SOULMATE EVERYDAY WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR. Poor Marco would most likely avoy any reflective surface for a very long time, unable to see Jean's face looking at him.

The guilt of lying to everyone, because how does one even begin to explain what's going on? Him lying to Jean's mother to protect her from the harsh truth of the reality- that her son actually died and the one in front of her was a fake.

And the sad truth is that no one would notice because they've been doing it for months already. They knew how to act like each other to perfection. Even if Marco slipped at some point no one would question it because they got many traits from each other already.

[drop-the-curtain-123]

ok very specific gripe about assassination classroom

But how comes the series is all "be yourself, use your hobbies, despite everyone judgement, for good" then just... Never questions the roasting of Mimura air guitaring?

Look at my boy! He's so unwell afterwards

Ik now there are more scenes later in the manga that again use it as a Punchline. It just encapsulates that weird gap of "things that are just never Not the Joke/Mocked" which kind of defeats the show messaging 😭

t's not even used in a "do it anyway, grow strong and proud" like some others, it's just. There.

(hi rinka btw happy belated birthday to you)

Anyway unconsequential nitpicking rant over, have a good day.