#but just slice of life

[keferon]

Guys. Guys they’re miners. They’re tiny cogless miners. Guys

I blacked out and filled the whole three canvases with sketches of them being itty bitty goobers. Figured Imma show you some haha

[willowcrowned]

in europe and made the fatal mistake of trying to order nachos at a restaurant and look. europeans. I say this with all the love in my heart. but what exactly do you think nachos are

[novaneondream]

I could watch 10000000 filler episodes of just them

[choccy-milky]

congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼

[roventum]

putting him in the cat ear headset

[crabsnpersimmons]

OHHH

Eclipseeeeee

I can give my.. my-

whole me

if you

still

peckish ;)

sorry not sorry

Eclipse: my my! all for me? a treat just for me? it must be my lucky day!

[elsecrytt]

Satoru Gojo goes to the same cafe every day for his coffee-flavored confectionary beverage. You are the barista tasked with pumping his drink with the unreasonable assortment of syrup squeezes.

You don't blink at it. You've been in customer service forever. Everything is second nature to you. But you give him a look when you hand him a drink and he just starts going.

He likes to make small chat, you learn. About meaningless things - desserts, drinks, the weather - but he makes you laugh, and he laughs at your jokes, too. He's smiling every time you talk.

He's beautiful - in that way that makes you uncertain if he's really there - and friendly, and he seems a bit lonely, eager to converse.

Something tells you Satoru probably doesn't have a lot of close friends. He's rich, too, judging by the massive tips he leaves you.

The thing is, you do a lot of things on autopilot. It's just the way these things get after a while. Pouring drinks, "What would you like today?", "I'll have that out for you soon!", "Have a nice day!", all that stuff.

Sometimes, though. Sometimes. Wires get crossed.

He's picked up his drink to leave, giving you a cheeky smile and a little wave, and you tell him, without thinking twice:

"Love you, bye!"

Oh. Oh fucking hell -

"Love you too!"

[lotus-pear]

bsd rewatch w my friend means obligatory art of my fav found family ever

[theartingace]

Have some assorted centaur doodles since I've been in the mood, a little bit of goat-pull game shenanigans and some of the squad doodles- remembering how I want to draw their faces as I've gotten better at people faces 😅 and playing around with giving Sunny a forehead star because he's best lad and deserves it 😌

[blackkatdraws2]

They like to visit their favorite human every once and a while. [Original Characters]

The building is haunted, but the ghosts get attached to the workers [specifically the older ones who work there.]

The new workers are afraid of encountering them [most probably don't even know they exist and think it's just a rumor] while the older workers are used to them.

They're especially fond of this one guy in particular. He's been working here for 30+ years. They treat him like your indoor cat and he leans into their affection because he's a lonely starved old man who everyone sees as strict and indifferent.

[Note: This affection only extends to the older workers of the haunted building. (New workers have been reported fainting around their presence.) Others will not be treated as nicely. Please keep your distance and notify guards during an encounter.]

[deadrlngers]

I'm the reticent vampire of the Ninth Arrondissement. I walk the night capturing disappointment and regret as only the reticent vampire can.

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022-)

[skittykittybean]

Woah hey! Did I ever tell anyone that I’m a writer? :3

Well, now I am! Just posted my first story onto VoyceMe for a competition they’re doing. Part of the judging criteria is view numbers. Every click counts!!

(Though reads are appreciated too! X3)

[narwedraws]

Just a gentle and wholesome ship for a friend's birthday ♡

[enden-k]

whaaaaat about baby/kiddo saran and baby/kiddo vika just as like a “in another life” kind of thing?

if they would have been born in the same region/would be around the same age and go to the same elementary school, or just an entire new AU 🥹 im getting thoughts and ideas waaaa

[strangersteddierthings]

"I think we should break up," is what Eddie blurts the moment Steve opens the front door to reveal him.

Steve's first reaction is anger -how dare he?- but he doesn't do anything with that anger. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, crosses his arms, and looks Eddie over.

He's breathing heavily yet his van is parked along the curb. He didn't run here. His hair, while never tame, looks rougher. He is fidgeting but in a nervous way, not his usual too much energy way. His eyes are wide and scared. It's the last bit there that drains Steve's anger.

Something's happened.

He drops his arms and says, "well, you're not dumping me on my porch. Get in here."

This doesn't seem like the response Eddie was expecting. Even though he has been looking at Steve this whole time he still manages to do a double take at him. Steve just shoves the door open a bit wider when he turns and heads back to the kitchen, where the dishes are not washing themselves because he doesn't have a dishwasher.

"I-I'm serious, Steve," Eddie is stammering behind him, which is good. Means he did follow. Steve hears the door shut and the shuffling sound of what he assumes is Eddie trying to pull off his combat boots without untying them, like the animal he is.

"Don't shout at me in my own home! Get in this kitchen," Steve shouts, then smiles and relishes in the offended huff Eddie lets out because Steve is the one shouting. Steve picks up the dish towel he'd deposited on the counter and throws it back over his shoulder, then get back to the dishes. There's just a couple bowls and a pot left, might as well get them done.

The sink is perpendicular to the doorway, so he watches Eddie slink into the small galley kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway to frown at Steve. "I'm breaking up with you and you're just, what, gonna wash dishes?"

"You're not breaking up with me, but yes. Look, one bowl down already. Just two more dishes."

"I- what. Yes, I am!"

"Edifer, you are 24 years old. That's much too old to just show up, yell 'we're over' at someone and run away. We're going to talk about this," he's not sure if it's the nickname, or the scolding parent voice he's put on, but it gets a huff of laughter from Eddie, and he counts it as a win.

"Alright, dad."

Steve grins, "I'll be dad if you be Daddy."

There's some sputtering from Eddie, and Steve gets the final dish done before Eddie says, "you can't just say that when I'm breaking up with you! That's- that's manipulative!"

He shrugs in response. "Seems fair. You're messing with my feelings; I'm messing with your feelings."

Those words freeze Eddie, and Steve can see him processing the words. Did Eddie really not consider that Steve had feelings involved? "I- that's... um."

He takes his time to unplug the sink, rinsing away the left-over bubbles before drying his hands and turning around. Eddie looks less wild and scared, now. More conflicted and uncertain. Which could be a good or bad thing. "Did you think you would just come over, break up with me, and I'd be, like, completely fine with it?"

"No," Eddie is quick to say, "Not completely fine but like, fine enough. It's- we've only been together for a month."

Steve frowns at that. He's not going to take offense to the 'only' added in there, because he's grown a lot over the last four years. He's mature now. "Sure, but beyond that, we've been friends since the world almost ended. I don't understand. I thought we were on the same page, here."

Eddie's fidgety again, in the bad way, pacing up and down the length of the kitchen. "What if this was a mistake?"

"What if it wasn't?"

That stops Eddie in his tracks, whipping around to look at Steve. "What if this goes bad? What if you meet someone else and they can give you everything I can't? What if-"

"Whoa, Eddie!" Steve shoves off the sink and gets to Eddie in two steps. His hands come up, hovering. He wants to touch, comfort, but... well, if he allowed to? "I- where's all this coming from?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!"

"What?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!! They were the forever couple! Perfect for each other! If they couldn't make it work, how am I supposed to be able to?"

Ah. The root of it. Eddie, afraid he's not good enough. Fuck it. Eddie can shove him off if he doesn't want Steve to touch him. He slides an arm around Eddie's waist, his other hand going up to caress his cheek before cupping it, a move he knows makes Eddie melt like cotton candy on the tongue. "Eddie, baby, we make it work by working on it. Not just giving up."

Eddie does melt into Steve, his own arms wrapping around Steve (probably against Eddie's will). "I- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm gonna fuck this up and you'll hate me, and everything will be ruined."

"Well, that's melodramatic."

Eddie glares at him even as he nuzzles into Steve's palm. "Rude."

"Baby, so long as you just talk to me, we'll be okay. Don't just show up and declare you're gonna break up with me. I think there's some steps we can take before it gets to that."

He watches Eddie swallow thickly before he nods his head. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"So, we okay? You aren't gonna break my heart?"

Eddie whimpers at that, throwing himself forward to shove his face into Steve's neck. Steve settles his hand on the back of Eddie's head, idly scratching it while his other arm tightens its hold. When Eddie speaks, it's muffled and directly into his skin. "No. No breaking hearts."

"Hmm, good," Steve says, content to hold his boyfriend in his kitchen for however long Eddie wants to be held.

He'll call and check in on Dustin a bit later, too.

[aboutcustardcreams]

We walk the wind-y road

Another glimpse into the past: Nicky's six, and you and Agatha are trying to make the most of your days together, constantly pushing away the nagging feeling that, sooner or later, everything was destined to change.

warnings: none, just fluff and tickles.

previous chapter

You, Agatha and Nicky were walking the path through the forest. It was a beautiful sunny day, with birds chirping in harmony mingling with the wind rustling through the leaves on the trees. Blades of grass crunched softly under your feet, adding to the peaceful sounds around you, distracting you, or more likely trying to. 

You glanced over at your son then, the sight of him enough to put your heart at ease. It took you a second to recognize the song you three made up together coming from him. 

Walk, walk, walk the Road,

I walk the windy road

Agatha’s lips tugged into a defiant smile, she lowered the book she was reading to focus completely on Nicky, who was strolling beside you, “you happen to walk this windy road all by yourself?” 

The boy lifted his chin up and returned her smile, “no, mama.” The way he scrunched up his nose made it impossible for you to resist the urge to lean over to peck his forehead affectionately, “can we join you then, big man?”  

His long brown hair swayed a bit in response to the wind blowing against his face. He nodded his head and cleared his throat to restart the song. Agatha scooted closer, humming along with Nicky right away, words lingering in the air, as to seal the promise to always stick together as a family. A vow you were desperate to keep, no matter the cost. 

Walk, walk, walk the Road, 

we walk the windy road.

These moments of peace, of complete domesticity between you three meant the world to you. Nicky was your whole world, yours and Agatha’s. And your life was apparently perfect, thanks to his presence, to the chance you were given in life to be his mother. A privilege you never once took for granted. However, your heart wasn’t whole. When Rio left you three, about six years ago, she took a piece of your heart with her, probably one of Agatha’s too to be honest. Despite missing her with all your soul, craving her affection and silly jokes, you lived with the hope that your reunion would happen years and years from now. Because you knew what that would mean for you three, then. 

There was so much of Rio in Nicky: the shape of the eyes for starters, the tip of the nose, even the way his mouth curled at the corners whenever he smiled. You weren’t sure if that resemblance helped you cope with the separation from Rio, or it only made you crave her presence more and more. Maybe it was a mixture of the two things. 

You knew that this idyllic frame wouldn’t last forever. This sense of… apparent bliss, calm even would stop someday. You knew you’d have to fight for your son to stay alive when that moment came. Your magic was strong, it sparkled in anticipation just to the thought of being put to use as if it was only made for this purpose. But neither of you knew when Rio would show up to claim Nicky’s soul. And no matter how many times you told yourself you were ready, the idea of having to face the challenge was terrifying. Because you were the only one able to actually do something to change Nicky’s course of life. 

Whenever it may bend

Agatha tugged at your hand gently, apprehension written in her blue eyes. She could always sense when your mind was elsewhere, you’d scrunch up your face then, stare ahead of you, without really looking at anything in particular, and your magic would intensify, getting heavier around you, and affect everything near you. When she touched you, she felt a warm sparkle tickle her digits, you felt it too, making you quickly shift your focus, come back to the present, see her seeing you. You attempted to smile, “did you say anything?” Her thumb grazed against the back of your hand, and when she nodded her head, she repeated, “the song…”

You noticed that even Nicky was patiently waiting for your voice to mingle with theirs. So you gave him an apologetic glance and added your line. You needed to be there, to be present for Agatha and your son. Your worries could wait until night time to surface. 

I’ll be there at the end

You three sang the song again, and this time you hummed along from the beginning. Your focus shifted with Nicky being at the center of all your thoughts. He was only six years old, and yet his intelligence and empathy was above your comprehension sometimes. Agatha told you often, with pride filling her voice, that you and Nicky shared the same braveheart, along with a generosity so rare and unconditional towards every living thing that caused her eyes to water if she lingered to think about it for a second too long. Even that cute dimple, just underneath his right cheekbone, came from you. Everytime he smiled, even more when he laughed, it would show up and light up the entire space around you. Agatha would call it ‘happy little bottom’, causing both you and Nicky to laugh at how cheesy she could be. She would make sure to see that dimple every single day, because that would mean that despite all the horrible choices she had to make to keep Nicky alive, at the end of the day he was happy. 

Another incredible thing about Nicky was the fact that he knew to be different. He always did. And yet, he never asked questions about his condition, about why he would fall sick much easier than other kids. 

He might not question that specifically, but he sure questioned more often than not why so many witches had to die every other day as if it was a natural chore to be completed. 

And that happened to be one of those days. 

“Mama, why do you kill witches?”

Agatha stilled for a moment while you clenched your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath; his timid voice replaying in your head and no matter how many times you came across the same topic, it would always shock you the same way. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to know the truth, nor could Agatha, however, it wasn’t an option to be honest with him about it. Because he was like you, too considerate, his heart too good for his own sake. If Nicky were to know all those killings were necessary to keep him alive, he surely would have something to say about it, despite his young age. 

Agatha glanced at him only briefly, before coming up with a response, you knew it wouldn’t satisfy him, it being too simplistic, “to survive.” 

You pulled the boy closer to your side, and he lifted his chin, this time looking at you. His eyes squinted, and you spotted the confusion filling his hazel eyes. He wanted more, he searched for more. 

“Could we not stay with the witches and survive with them?” 

Your steps came to a halt at this point and as you did, Nicky stopped too. Agatha watched in silence as you crouched down in front of him, so that you could speak to him face to face. 

“I wish it was possible, my love,” you muttered with a hint of sadness lacing your voice. When he frowned, you ran both your hands to cup his cheekbones, thumbs gently stroking his skin, now slightly paler, and you knew he would need to feed on more magic soon. Not a single day passed without you wishing to take his illness, to transfer his condition and make it yours, but that was beyond your skills. You could do so many things, and yet the thing you wanted the most was beyond your limits. “Sometimes, as your mama said, in order to survive, tough decisions must be made. Decisions that don’t depend on you, though. I want you to always remember that, okay?”

He nodded quietly, eyes boring into yours, as a veil of understanding started forming in them. Agatha nibbled on her bottom lip, lashes fluttering quicker to ward off those angry tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. It was harder for you to kill, but you never backed away from doing it. You even resurrected a couple of them once, tried to apologize with tears in your eyes, mortified by the things you had to do, but they wouldn't listen to reason. All you found was hatred in their eyes, and not only they didn’t accept your apology, they also threatened to take yours, Agatha’s and Nicky’s life. You knew there was nothing to be done then, with your magic weakened by the effort of bringing those witches back, Agatha would shield you and Nicky and absorb their magic all over again, making your act of mercy completely vain. So eventually, you stopped doing that. Agatha begged you to, noticing what it was doing to you. 

“You and mama are witches, right?” 

You nodded your head, unsure where he was going with this. 

“And you live together,” he reasoned, “You don’t try to kill each other-”

Agatha let out a quiet, sad chuckle at that. Nicky was clever, so much so that sometimes, it was hard to keep up with him. 

“It’s different,” you quickly said, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “I love your mama,” Agatha’s heart swelled at your words, she licked her lips and nodded, glancing down at the two of you with immense love, a hand lingering upon your shoulder. Then you scooted closer to Nicky, lips against his ear as you whispered, “but I love you more.” 

The boy giggled. It caught Agatha’s attention, and that’s when she crouched down next to the two of you, she asked with a cocked eyebrow, “what was that?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, trying so hard to suppress a grin from curling your lips. It only caused Nicky to squirm and chuckle more, so you pulled him in your arms, “Nothing. Our boy was just craving some cuddles, right?” Agatha’s eyes lingered on those two dimples as they both popped out at the same time. She watched him wrap his arms around your neck, snickering and nodding at the same time.  

“Momma said she loves me more,” your eyes snapped open at his confession. 

Agatha let out a defiant sound at that, “Oh, did she now?” There was a playful glimmer in her orbs when she locked eyes with you. 

“You little snitch–” you started, voice morphing in a teasing and silly tone. Nicky dropped the rope the moment your fingers wiggled up and down his sides, tickling him immediately. The sound of his laughter soon echoed throughout the forest, muffling all the others and giving you the illusion that everything was fine, that your son was healthy with no invisible countdown threatening his life. 

“Mama! Mama– help!” 

“Oh no, big boy, now you face the consequences of your–”

Before you could finish that sentence, you felt Agatha’s hands slip down your waist, pulling you against her with such unexpected force, both of you stumbled backwards in the soft grass behind you. “Agatha, what in the world?” You chuckled and tried to break free, but she didn’t let you go, “I do believe I deserve an explanation, my love–” her voice sounded like a soft murmur against your ear. Her long wavy hair tickled your face as she drew closer, raising you soft goosebumps over your skin. 

In the meantime, as Nicky’s laughter quieted down, his grin stayed, “get her mama! Use your purple!” 

Agatha seemed tempted by the idea, whereas you not so much, “my purple, huh?” 

“No, no, no– don’t you dare!” 

Despite your warning, your voice carried more amusement than alarm, and Agatha didn’t miss it. In a heartbeat, she turned the tables— quite literally. She spun you around, and the world tilted as your back hit the cool blades of grass underneath you. A startled giggle escaped you, and you locked eyes with her, “Agatha Harkness, I am serious–” using her full name as warning, only fueled her intent to ruin you. 

“So am I, baby,” Agatha grinned down at you, her knees on either side of you, pinning you effortlessly. She wiggled her fingers in mid air and that’s when you spotted a glimpse of purple over them. 

The moment Agatha’s fingernails brushed against your sides, you couldn’t help the sound slipping from your lips– a mixture of a squeal and helpless laughter, light and almost childish. Another thing you had in common with your son was your ridiculous ticklishness. 

She found out by accident, to be honest. Nicky wasn’t in the picture yet. There was Rio, though. You were lying on your stomach, nestled against Rio’s side in bed. Agatha’s arm lazily looped around your middle, her fingers tracing soft, absent-minded patterns along your skin, a sweet cuddle before sleep. When suddenly Agatha’s fingers skimmed your side, near your hip bone, your body jolted and a high-pitched sound slipped from your lips, which involuntarily startled them. 

Rio’s chin lifted from its resting spot atop your head and almost laughed in disbelief, “Did you just– squeak?” 

You groaned, already burying your flushed face deeper into Rio’s chest, making you miss the amused glimmer flashing into Agatha’s eyes, “I did not.” 

“I think you did, my love,” she argued. 

Before you could protest, her fingers ghosted over your side again, near the same spot, eliciting another yelp from you that turned into a real fit of giggles the moment she really started tickling you.

That’s how your little secret stopped being one. 

Back in the present, Agatha felt her heart swell with love at the sight of that familiar dimple appearing on your cheek. Glancing over at Nicky, she realized he had it too, his own showing as a huge grin spread across his lips.  

“Oh, would you look at that!” When her purple joined in, as Nicky suggested, adding a feathery sensation to your already oversensitive skin, it only made you thrash and laugh harder, “Pretty inconvenient for such a powerful witch like you to be this ticklish, huh?” 

“Agatha– Stop it!”

“I don’t know,” she teased, her tone both playful, as she gave you another playful jab at your side. When your laughter turned silent and tears started prickling at your eyes, Agatha’s gaze softened and her fingers slowed down, but without stopping completely. 

“What do you say, Nicky? Shall I let her off the hook?” She asked, glancing over at the boy, who had been watching the entire thing with a grin on his face. 

The boy closer to the two of you, coming into your line of sight. You thanked the Dark Mother when he gave Agatha a nod of his head as a response, making her stop her innocent, yet disarming assault right away. 

“You okay, momma?” 

You weakly lifted a thumb up, voice a tad breathless as you tutted, “Y-yeah— peachy.” 

When Agatha got off you, you propped yourself up and leaned on your elbows, finally allowing yourself to catch your breath, “I’ll get you two for this– just you wait.” 

“We will be ready,” Agatha mused.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could formulate another retort, she leaned back down again, her hands slipping to your hips, not to tickle this time, but to steady herself. Her face hovered a few inches from yours, her long hair falling like silk across your shoulders. 

The playful gleam in her eyes shifted into something else, a much tender look, that made your breath hitch and your heart jump in your throat all over again, “that was mean, you know–” your flushed cheeks betrayed just how much you weren’t really complaining about what happened.

Agatha tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow, “I’m sure I can make it up with you quite nicely–”

“Oh, can you?” 

Humming softly, her lips found yours in a slow, unpretentious kiss, that put a huge smile on both your face and Agatha’s. The world stopped for a moment– the sounds around you, the voices inside your head, until an exaggerated groan pierced the moment. 

“Ew, moms!”

You broke the kiss with a quiet chuckle, much to Agatha’s displeasure. She let out a dramatic sigh and leaned her forehead against yours, unwilling to let go of you just yet, “You should know Nicky, when two people really love each other–”

“Agatha!” You cut her off, a blush rising to your cheeks. “We are not doing this right now.” 

Agatha pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly holding back a grin as she glanced over at your son, who didn’t seem very keen on learning about that just yet. “Right. That’s a story for another time.”