#decided to try out some new things to render here and there

[scarapanna]

Goodbye

[selene-writes]

You-Me-Us

AHHHH Hey guys! There's lots of Logan craze on here thought I would try writing. Should this be a series? Its short and there's lot of places to go from here.

You had known Logan for fifteen years—technically, that had been your entire life, or at least as much of it as you could remember. Your earliest memory was of his face peering down at you with a mixture of concern and relief. You were in some sort of ruined laboratory, your body aching with a pain you couldn’t fully comprehend. You didn’t even know your own name at the time. Instead, you went by Artemis, a name you had chosen for yourself, though Logan often called you "bub."

Like Logan, you were a mutant, endowed with the gift of regeneration. This ability made it impossible to determine your exact age. In addition to your regenerative powers, you possessed the unique ability to manipulate atoms. This rare skill granted you control over all elements, a power that made you incredibly unique and powerful.

You had both decided to stick together, united in your quest to uncover the truth about who you were and why you had ended up there. It was evident that something significant had happened to both of you, something that had rendered you both invincible. Despite the mysteries that surrounded your origins, the bond between you and Logan only grew throughout time.

As time passed, the nature of your relationship evolved in ways neither of you had anticipated. Somehow, amidst the chaos and the search for answers, you had found yourselves tumbling into bed with each other. While the physical connection had become a part of your lives, nothing had fundamentally changed, and you never talked about it.

Even as you navigated your complicated relationship, your focus remained on the shared mission: to piece together the truth about your past and understand the full extent of your powers. 

Everything happened so quickly. You and Logan were in the middle of your usual routine—hitting various bars and grifting people for money. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become almost comforting in its predictability. But that night, things took an unexpected turn.

A teenager—no older than seventeen—had sneaked into the back of your car. Her name was Rogue, and despite your initial reluctance, you and Logan ended up arguing about what to do with her. Logan, ever the soft-hearted one despite his gruff exterior, eventually agreed to give her a ride, though it was clear he would have done so regardless of your persuasion.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Out of nowhere—a caveman-like brute—attacked you. Logan was momentarily knocked out in the chaos, leaving you and Rogue vulnerable. The man’s strength was overwhelming, and before you could react, he hurled you against a tree. The impact was brutal, and you felt a jarring “crack” as your head struck the trunk.

You crumpled to the ground, falling into the snow. As the world around you dimmed, the last thing you saw was the silhouettes of the figures moving closer, their shapes growing more defined against the stark whiteness of the snow.

You woke with a groan, sitting up abruptly as if propelled by instinct. Your body felt as good as new, fully healed from the earlier impact. Instinctively, you scanned your surroundings, your mind racing with concern for Logan and his whereabouts.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed a bald man sitting in a wheelchair across the room. Despite his lack of visible movement, his voice seemed to come from all around you, resonating in your mind as much as your ears.

“There is no need to panic,” he said, his lips remaining still, not in sync with his words.

You tensed, on high alert. “How are you doing that?” you demanded, your voice edged with suspicion.

The bald man responded aloud this time, “How do we do anything? We’re mutants.”

Your frustration boiled over. “Where am I? Where is Logan?”

The man’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “He is safe… you both are.” He began to wheel closer; his movements deliberate and smooth. “As for where you are… You are at my academy, where we help those like you. You are with… the X-Men.”

[7squidgy7]

✧.*100 follower celebration type thing*.✧

So, to celebrate 100 followers on tumblr, I decided to draw some fanart for people. This community is so sweet. Every one of these artists has inspired me in some way.

I'm really sorry for those I haven't made art for. I may make a part 2 one day for those I missed. Who knows.

This was a really nice way to try out different art styles while mixing them with my own.

Apologies for all the link later on. Want to explain the creative process a bit for those interested cause I put way too much effort into it to not mention.

Close ups below cut:

@donutfloats

Your arts so cute and soft, I love it. You have a great way of just expressing love through your art.

I was inspired by 2 of your pieces for this, the main one being the 3rd image for this post. The lambs dress is so pretty, I just knew I wanted to draw it flowy and dancing, and the second image I used is this post for the rendering style.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@aniimoni

I really like your artstyle. The monochrome colours are delightful, as with the way you do lineart. while making this, I was thinking this is the perfect style to meld with mine.

I was inspired a lot by the axe and hammer drawings in this post. As a hammer lover, I decided to combine the 2 together.

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@teruuu

Something about your style is mischevios. Your rendering and lineart are just wonderful as well. You have a very distinctive style that matches mine quite well, i think.

I feel compulsion of the flesh Lamb and Narinder would give each other kisses on the hand but take a bite at the same time. They freaky like that. Based my rendering around this post and the previous draw you character here, I did. These are fun designs to draw.

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@poopylumpkins

I really like your vampire au something about it really spoke to me as a afab non-binary.

Lamb deserves to wear their own clothes and something about narinder helping with their makeup convinces me he'll help out.

if you're curious, i colour picked the background and shading from this post

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@olrinarts

This was a really fun style to draw. Something about how you draw these 2 is delightful. Love yuri narinder's eyes in particular.

Rock god yuri. What more can I say these are really good designs. Showed them to my friend, and they loved them.

Decided to have them dueting, while Narinder can't sing lamb can always pick up that role.

Used this post for the background and shading colours, and this is a kinda basis for the pose.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@redcrowncafe

Really love you fic and art. I like to see the fic brought to reality through all the comics and art, which has a very pleasing look to the eye.

I have never struggled so much with an art style, fun challenge, but very different to my own.

Wanted to draw their Halloween costumes from this post. Lambert would definitely get too into the vampire costume and bite Nari at some point probably.

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@joffyworld

Just wanna say thank you so much for the reblogs and kind words. It gives me a lot of confidence in my work and is a genuine brightness in my day.

I wasn't sure what to draw you, so I thought I'd just show you a pic of my new one who waits figurine, that arrived recently. Its a little weird, I think an earlier design but cool none the less.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!

Artist's Notes;

So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.

After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.

If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.

Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.

BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[synthaphone]

Allowing myself to go on a tangent about the nearly 26 year old virtual pet website that i am way too invested in.

So today they released the Candy Pteri. While I appreciate what they were trying to do here with it effectively having two designs that you get to choose between (The "Melted Candy Pteri" on the left is a Paint Brush wearable that can be removed to reveal the customizable base pet on the right), I think in this case, they have created two extremely boring designs when they could have easily created one strong design, or hell, even two strong designs if they wanted to do extra work.

Because with this release, we get a base Candy Pteri with no real lineart changes (like the rounded hair tufts and spines on the Candy Zafara), and an alternate design that's just... a drawing of a Marshmallow Peep™???

I would have WAY preferred a base Pteri where they did something like give it a little marshmallow dollop shape on its head and in place of the tail tuft, like my friend @darieyrie suggested. Or they could give it the Peep dot eyes and more rounded features! There's all kinds of ways you could do this concept.

I'd be less frustrated if the Peep wearable had any Pteri traits whatsoever, but its JUST a Peep that's been slightly microwaved. Which is a little funny, but even more than the Toy Poogle is just an iDog, the Candy Pteri does not have any deviation from its base inspiration at all. It's not actually an execution of the concept of "Candy Pteri thats based on a Peep" if there's no Pteri left at all!

(also are they just banking on the Just Born corporation (who make Peeps) never taking any action on this? it kind of goes beyond 'cheeky reference', its EXACTLY their product. I mean, it seems unlikely that they'll notice or bother doing anything if they do, but i don't really know why you'd risk that.) The saving graces of this design, imo, are that the pink and cream color scheme of the base pet IS pleasant (though the lineart and shading treatment aren't really my bag), and some people will enjoy the novelty of having a pet Marshmallow Peep™.

But really this is just the latest of a number of recent outfit and color releases that feel like they don't think people want Neopets. Like. This cardinal outfit that they also released today.

I love the idea of a cardinal Pteri! But this outfit literally takes away every distinguishing trait of the Pteri to make a high effort, nicely rendered, but stylistically incongruous generic cartoon cardinal????? Its not even a Neopet anymore!!! Even if I set aside my personal dislike of the overly rendered style they're using for more and more of the site assets, this wouldn't work with most of the rendering removed either, because it would still be a Pteri in pose and proportions only.

Not every new design and outfit that's come out in the past couple years has these issues and there have been a number I've really liked, and I DO think its great that the quality of the art has improved since the JumpStart era. But I would really appreciate it if the new pet colors in particular were designed a little more thoughtfully, so that they at bare minimum still resemble the species they're supposed to be outside of the rough pose and proportions. It sometimes feels like there isn't a rough draft or workshopping progress for new colors, and the members of the art team just kind of do their own thing and then the very first draft of an idea is what gets polished and released.

The current art direction for the customization aspects of the site just has me feeling like they've decided to throw out years of relatively cohesive art and world design for a strange jumble of ideas that don't really capture the appeal or feeling of Neopets to me.

[sunderingstars]

simulated universe addendum: ship of fools

— i found yet another occurrence after i posted my other simulated universe analyses, so here it is (this time from the unknowable domain)! watch in real time as i become absolutely obsessed with the implications !!

— written during 2.6

— word count: 3k, list format

— cover art. jumping right into it: the red / orange masks & a suspiciously aha-mask-looking shadow implies that the masked fools may not be just fanatical, but directly supported and endorsed by aha themself (or at least a part of them). also, note that the fool is bowing with one hand, something that sampo often likes to do. (i don’t think the fool on the cover is sampo, though.)

— the rewards are interesting, for reasons i’ll get into later. for now, i just want to point out how the options are staggered, with two giving you negative curios and the last one giving you specifically a “shining trapezohedron die.” they are also broken into three rounds separated by dialogue, meaning all options come in sets of two. the order does not change.

— the masks are also listed quite neatly here: sinister, ridiculous, masquerade, fox-faced, intact, and broken. each set seems to contradict itself — sinister versus ridiculous, masquerade versus fox-faced, and, most notably, intact versus broken.

— introductory dialogue: before the options appear, we the player and trailblazer (assumed to be the addressed “you”) are shown swimming in the belly of something called the “joyless beast.” surrounded by “humorless particles” in the “sea of impassivity,” and are invited onboard the ship of fools by a lost masked fool. apparently, he has been tricked by others into crossing the sea, and now finds himself drunk and attempting to get his bearings.

— note: while i’m not sure this makes sense, i wouldn’t rule out the possibility that this fool is aha. as mentioned at different parts in the occurrence, they seem to be running the “ship of fools” — i.e. a very large, plural collective that could be seen as representative of the real-life organization — the tavern can be heard even if it physically makes no sense to be there, the fool’s mask changes back and forth “in the blink of an eye,” they’re drunk (similar to the masked fools boundary equation), and they are the one conveying these many stories about the masks to us. they seem to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the goings-on of followers of the elation, even remarking on how a joke is “unfunny” at the end. paired with the very aha-looking shadow on the cover, and i’d say we’ve got ourselves a theory.

— however, it is strange that aha would find themselves lost or tricked, but perhaps that just comes with the territory. they often co-mingle with mortals, after all, and if they’ve spent enough time with the fools it’s possible one of their own children decided to make a haha funny by sending them hurtling into the literal concept of “jokeless.” a concept, after all, can only be defeated by another concept. anyways!

— my main interests here are the specific names of objects and places — “joyless beast,” “humorless particles,” and “sea of impassivity” — and the tavern we hear despite there being nothing behind the door.

— the names give some good insight into what contrasts the elation; lack of joy, lack of humor, and impassivity are all things that seem to counteract the effect of jokes, rendering them null. interestingly, it may give some insight into sampo’s nihility status as well, since “impassivity” and “nothing” are the domains of ix. it may be that sampo is trying to counteract the effects of elation within himself, or even within others.

— the tavern is also intriguing to me, since it is specifically mentioned to be heard despite there for certain being nothing behind the door. it may truly be only laughter that floats by on stomach acid, but i also think it is interesting to consider that the masked fools’ tavern may be able to move itself in an otherworldly way, popping up in new and exciting places where it makes no sense to be.

— sinister & ridiculous: the sinister mask, which grants the player an annihilation component, is described by the fool to have belonged to a ferocious monster that instigated riots through lying. on the other hand, the ridiculous mask is about someone incredibly adept at auctioning off intangible things like gravity and nuclear force. as a result, many businessmen across the cosmos want to “flay the hide from his flesh” (wow!), and even though the option says you’ll get cosmic fragments, the text is garbled and the player receives two negative curios instead.

— in this case, the sinister mask seems to be straightforward; you get what you want. however, the jumbled text on the ridiculous mask is nothing more than a lie, giving you something different than expected.

— both masks seem to represent two separate people, using different pronouns and professions to distinguish the individuals. the true contrast comes with the nature of the masks themselves, with one being “sinister” and one being “ridiculous.”

— dialogue: pretty straightforward, more chaotic masked fools shenanigans. one thing i will note, though, is the specific use of the word “imperfectly.” with the emphasis on perfection in the *perfect* grand challenge occurrence and the later emphasis on “pristine” in this very same one, i’d say there’s a connection here. with how the fool may be aha (or symbolic of them in some way), maybe they really do have a preoccupation with “perfection.”

— masquerade & fox-faced: the masquerade mask references a “ball for the entire universe” filled with multicolored masks, making a very specific comparison between the laughter and a virus in the aether network. it also ends with the line “who ever said an in-your-face joke isn’t a joke?” and grants the player a scepter. then, the fox-faced mask is said to be a “scarlet mask” that infiltrates via disguise. it heavily alludes to feelings of lost personhood and performance before giving the player two negative curios.

— again, there seems to be some contrast, with the masquerade mask favoring “in-your-face” jokes and flashy colors and big opulent balls and the fox-faced mask favoring “infiltrating via disguise” and acting and being part of a play. while there are similarities in performance, masquerade is much more in the light of it all than the fox-faced mask, which stays humming in the background.

— i am not sure who the masquerade mask is meant to represent (perhaps another character we’ll meet later on), but i strongly believe the fox-faced mask is referencing sparkle. it has her name written all over it, from the disguises to the plays and performances to even the name “fox-faced” itself. additionally, “if you wear a mask for too long, maybe you’ll never be able to take it off” is an entire theme with her character, since her many masks represent her loss of personhood and jumbled identity.

— (it’s also important to bring up how the masquerade and fox-face masks may even be alluding to the same person; i.e. a potential “before” and “after” or different sides of sparkle we maybe haven’t seen, one side taken to the extreme.)

— the jumbled text makes a comeback, this time with sparkle’s mask. much like the first time, the player is lied to, and instead of receiving normal curios, we receive negative ones.

— now onto the main course! as you and the fool try to make a break for it, two last options arise: an intact mask or a broken mask.

— intact mask: this is a very cryptic joke, perhaps the most cryptic in the entire occurrence. it is stilted in small bits, mentioning “sharp-tasting collections,” “pristine white complete masks,” and “breaking magnificent mirages.” “lies are not the unique properties of the fools” also implies someone from a different organization or mode of existence; potentially someone not part of the fools at all. it gives a few examples of “truth,” as well, like revealing conspiracies and exposing politicians.

— while i believe this mask could be referring to many characters (perhaps ones we haven’t even met yet), i think it may be referring to a group rather than a single person:

— aha stuffed toys. although the mask in the option is singular, the masks mentioned in the joke are plural. this invocation of plurality rather than singularity leads me to envision that the “aha stuffed toys” as an entire group may be mentioned here — well, the “intact” ones at least. this would align with “lies are not the unique properties of the fools,” which i take to reference how the fools are not unique due to the existence of other, lying beings of elation; this would fit with mini-aha dolls who lie in service of their creator, but are not a part of the fools. additionally, the specific examples given in the joke could be examples of different dolls choosing what kind of chaos to sow, as they have “time for leisure” that allows them to, well, basically be absolute rabble-rousers in aha’s image.

— “they all say truth is above all, but they cry like a mourning actor when the truth is revealed” may reference the nature of the dolls themselves. perhaps they are unaware of their purpose or the nature of their existence, feeling panicked and grief-stricken when they realize what they were really made for. there is even the possibility that none of these dolls are meant to survive long; they may all be simply treading water until aha decides it’s time for the next drink.

— speaking of which, “sharp-tasting collections” may reference the cracks and edges of broken dolls, which could potentially turn into a “sharp taste” of pain aha drinks (symbolically or otherwise) like in the masked fools boundary equation. what if i cried???

— bing-bing! heart transplant mention — ties to the “organic heart” curio in curio hacker. perhaps all of aha’s dolls can fit the idea of organic heart?

— (“pristine white complete masks” is interesting as well, since it gives a specific, sterile color to the whole ordeal. it really reminds me of the gray-white hair hidden at the bottom of sampo’s blue, as well as the muted grays of his outfit below the jacket. perhaps he’s simply tried to paint over his “base model”.)

— the “stuffed toys” angle is further supported by the reward for this option, which is, as you may have guessed, cosmic fragments. (as in, the same cosmic fragments you receive from the aha stuffed toy occurrence.)

— broken mask: last on the list, the fool describes the broken mask as a “bitter and depressed collection item” who caused the kuvida nebula to become a “dead zone” due to flipping the dichotomy of truths and lies. the option says it will give us a three-star scepter, but the jumbled text gives us a “shining trapezohedron die” instead.

— i’ll cut to the chase: i’m 99.9% sure this is about sampo.

— one, the “bitter and depressed collection item” not only references the intact aha stuffed toy group from the last joke, but specifies the words “bitter” and “depressed” to be unique to this singular collection item, much like sampo’s “betrayal” and “hate” motifs.

— two, “dim and broken mask” may refer to whatever mask shenanigans sampo has going on via sparkle in penacony’s trailblaze quest. also, the fact that sampo has broken heart motifs and tries to give the fools a wide berth.

— three, “a liar with negative credit.” i repeat, a liar with negative credit. simple, easy. sampo lies. sampo’s profession revolves around credits. sampo hates owing people things. sampo likely has negative credit. (this may refer to status, monetary funds, or power. or all of it!)

— four, “that person.” interesting deflection. interesting lack of pronouns. interesting vague, “you might know this person” energy similar to the “entity” in curio hacker. i know what you are trying to hide from us star rail :)

— five, “inflation engine.” once again, a reference to monetary processes.

— six, “if everything that comes out of your mouth is viewed as a lie, then truth will replace the value of lies.” on a simple level, this references sampo’s propensity for lying and his need to find workarounds to keep the effect of his schemes the same. on a deeper level, it may have something to say about his intelligence and cunning ability to get what he wants. this isn’t a sampo who tells the truth out of some attempt at pure goodness, but a sampo who caused an entire area to become a “dead zone” because he realized “hey, if they all think i’m lying, i’ll just tell the truth and it’ll have the same effect!”. while there’s the possibility “kuvida nebula” was an awful, abhorrent place that deserved to be swindled, there’s also the chance it wasn’t.

— huge fan of this for sampo, who i want to succeed in all of his endeavors, but not a great way to prove his innocence in court. also, “kuvida nebula” may be a great place to look out for future references of in-game.

— the aforementioned quote also implies that sampo telling the truth may not be an entirely good thing; it can be easy to think, especially with the mr. cold feet event coming up, that him being honest with us (and the trailblazer) is a step in the right direction, but… well… let’s just remember what happened to kuvida.

— moving on, i believe this “broken mask” sampo joke is meant to directly mirror and contrast the “intact mask” of the other aha stuffed toys. as mentioned in other analyses, i believe sampo may have been abandoned or discarded as an experiment or broken goods. if that’s the case, these two mask jokes being part of the same option pair makes sense — much like the other pairs, these are two different modes of existence that contrast with each other, one being fun and straightforward, while the other is darker and more complex.

— additionally, the garbled text makes a comeback, and i believe this misspelling (all the misspellings) are intentional. every single garbled text option is a lie; every single garbled text option does not give what it says it will. the first two give negative curios, and this one gives:

— shining trapezohedron die. this curio replaces all current curios with random ones. very elation-aligned, in my opinion, since the elation path seems to be very focused on chaos and “randomness.” the only reason i can think of that the sampo option would “surprise” us with this curio in particular is the randomness of elation itself. if sampo is aligned on a deeper level with the elation — such as being an emanator — this seems like something “random” he might do in conjunction with the overall path. additionally, it may be something similar to his “surprise present” burst, with the implications being 1. a present (something new, something unique) and 2. a surprise (something random you couldn’t have predicted).

— story. the die’s story itself is also very interesting. much like curio hacker’s curios, it focuses on experimentation, combination, and even paradox. it has “irregular sides” and “a wondrous light that twirls unrestrained within it.” the word “unrestrained” catches my attention, as despite being trapped within a physical object, an immeasurable power still rests within. in addition, this die is “said to be the seal of a horrible and indescribable evil god,” which interests me as to why it is given in sampo’s option. i wonder if the die, like curio hacker’s curios, is meant to convey something about sampo’s existence, or even be a stand-in for the man himself.

— in this case, aha may be the “horrible” god described, as from the dolls’ perspective aha must surely be “evil.” much of what we’ve seen so far paints aha as somewhat cruel and twisted in their jokes, anyways.

— the die must also, specifically, not be touched in dark places. the story itself details a few people who did not believe this “myth,” and stayed with the die in a dark room. apparently, the light within the die “cannot be blocked out,” which created the “shining trapezohedron die paradox.” the light, in my opinion, may be synonymous with elation or path power, something that aha may have personally bestowed upon sampo. since it cannot be diminished, it seems to be a factor of sampo’s creation or rise to emanatorhood; the elation he was “gifted” with from the beginning cannot be taken away or smoothed over no matter how hard he might try.

— “you cannot prove something that cannot be proven.” this is the line the story ends with, and i find it very fitting with sampo’s existence. since the sentient doll from aha stuffed toy is said to be a secret only aha knows, i interpret this line as being relevant to the fact no one else knows about sampo’s creation. perhaps there is something that “cannot be proven” about sampo’s creation or reason for existence, something that aha is able to make sure no one else knows through godlike means. just speculation, though!

— overall, the die still fits in with sampo on a broader level, like with the unrestrained power trapped within a small form and the mention of gods and specific circumstances where you shouldn’t interact.

— it’s also important to note that sampo’s option in the occurrence is the only fake text one that does not give only negative curios — the die is a regular curio, and may give normal curios as much as it may give negative ones. i think this ties back to how much of a wildcard sampo can be, either helping or harming at a moment’s notice. at least it’s better than sparkle’s, though, which only gives negative curios.

— as for the text itself, i believe those options are meant to show the more duplicitous, darker side of the fools, and by extension the elation. the first options are confident, opulent, pristine, while the second, chaotic text options are angry, lost, and filled with dead zones. it’s no wonder why those second options seem more in line with the randomness of elation, closer in status to the unpredictability of their aeon; the elation itself may have a rotting core. and poor sampo is just there, caught in the middle of it.

— “what an unfunny joke,” the fool ends with. aha ends with. maybe they’re right. maybe the joke was a bad idea. maybe it went too far from the beginning. maybe it was cruel. and maybe, just maybe, sampo’s suffering wasn’t all that funny in the first place.

— alright, that’s all i have! gonna wring aha by the neck like a snake hehehe (except i’m not because that’s exactly what they’d want me to do) :3 i’d love to hear others’ thoughts in the comments, as well as any theories surrounding sampo or the masked fools !! :)

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[luxuki-1]

Like I said I would, I'm going to go through the details I hid in my recent FNAF painting. Not because anyone asked, but because I want to and I'm proud of everything put in

1. Michael's design is my own! I've pretty much had the same concept for the design since SB came out. I just really liked the idea of having part of his jaw missing for no particular reason other than it looks cool. But, I have since moved the jaw gap to the other side, as well as defining scars and wrinkles.

2. I've already posted Golden Freddy but here he is again. I redrew the original poster since I really didn't feel like I just should just slap the original on there. Since I had that freedom now, I decided to make references in the design to later games since it is appearing as a hallucination(?) to Michael. Obviously there are blood stains around the mouth to reference The Bite of '83 and I also added tear stains to reference Evan/CC, said victim of the bite.

3. The classic "Celebrate!" poster. The same thing with Golden Freddy, I didn't feel like I should copy and paste the original so I drew it myself, but this time I only drew the bottom half of the crew since you'd only see that part anyway. Maybe one day I'll fully recreate the poster but for now, this is it lol (You may also notice that I gave each of them different leg shapes, to make them more distinguished from each other other than just colour)

4. And again, didn't want to just copy and paste, so I re-typed all of the newspaper clippings myself in Canva. They say pretty much the same thing as the originals, but I'll still put them here anyway in case anyone wants to take a look:

5. I also recreated the children's drawings myself. Fun fact: I actually used my NON-dominant hand to draw most the basic shapes. I figured that if I drew with my dominant hand, the lines might look too clean, showing my obvious years experience. It's silly but I really wanted it to look and feel like a child drew it

6. It ends up being pretty much invisible in the final painting, but on the floor you can see old confetti and blood stains on the tiles

7. If it wasn't obvious; cup from the Security office is here too

8. Now it should it obvious by now that I chose to not draw the security office. Why you ask? I'm still new to drawing more detailed backgrounds, and I really didn't feel like drawing the office in the moment lol so I opted for the hallway, and I think it still looks pretty good with what I was going for

9. As a bonus, here's the original sketch I planned out. As you can see, I was originally planning to have more posters, some featuring the missing children. But in the end, I decided to scrap it and leave room for the wall to be more detailed since I thought it looked bare. Also, if you look closely, you can see a faint plan for a shadow over Mike. I was originally planning to put a shadow of Freddy there, but when I really started finishing up the shading, I realised that the extra shadow would be too much for an already dimly lit scene

And that's pretty much everything! I had so much fun doing all the little details and references, even though it did end up being more time consuming lol. I also tried out a bunch of different rendering techniques and I think they really helped pulled everything together. I'm definitely going to try my hand and making more paintings like this in the future ^^

If interested in seeing the full process, here's a link to the speed-paint:

[sarnai4]

Bottom's Up

Here are headcanons I have for the HTTYD group being drunk. (Admittedly, some of these are just how they are sleepy, but I think there could be a similarity in how the characters are just out of it.)

Hiccup: Impulsive drunk. This is the one time where he'd probably start a fight with someone. They have to talk badly about dragons or his friends, but it might happen without him considering the consequences (and considering his right hook that Snotlout got so well-acquainted with, it might not end badly for him).

Astrid: Bubbly drunk. She is giddy about everything, probably singing, and definitely dancing with whoever she grabs first somebody.

Snotlout: Emotional drunk (after a few sips). He's extremely happy one second, then bawling his eyes out the next. Every emotion and a lot of noise is coming from his general direction. Hookfang might try to smother him to quiet him down.

Fishlegs: Paranoid drunk. Conspiracies everywhere. The world is out to get him. You'll never convince him otherwise because clearly you're in on it.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut: Goofy drunks. They actually hold their booze for a while, but they are completely out of it when it does get to them. They're discombobulated and also very competitive because they want to see who can drink the most before it renders them unconscious.

Heather: Clumsy drunk. She is falling over everything and walking into people and/or walls. Get her to sit down because she'll have a concussion by the end of the night otherwise.

Stoick: Angry drunk. Clear out because if you say one wrong thing, your brains might be finding looking for a new residency. This isn't directed towards people he cares about at least, but any one else better stay on their toes.

Gobber: Delirious drunk. He's very happy, but that might be partially due to the fantasy world he's living in right now. All logic has been thrown off a dragon's saddle. Best time to convince him of anything too if you ever want to call him gullible.

Atali: Unconscious drunk. She's been out cold for a while now. Just leave her be.

Minden: Sleepy drunk. She's not as bad as Atali only because of Snotlout. She's trying to stay awake for him, but it is a bit painful and she's mostly failing.

Throk: Expressive drunk. He's confessing his true feelings to everyone...maybe in a very public way. Ruffnut is hearing how madly in love he is with her again and again. Anyone else nearby is also hearing how he feels about them whether they want to or not.

Mala: Bold drunk. She's having a crowd cheering her on for some fear of strength she just showed. She is the queen after all, so some adoring subjects fans are necessary. She also is a lot less shy about a few things involving a certain husband of hers.

Dagur: Not drunk. Let's be honest, there's not much more that can happen to his mind. So, days when they all go out drinking together are also known as "When Dagur keeps his friends and family from getting alcohol poisoning or causing irreversible damage." Alcohol isn't going to make him lose inhibition. He already lacks that. It doesn't make him weird because he's Dagur. He remains the same...however, that's not to say he doesn't feel it in the morning.

Below is a one shot I decided to make based off these headcanons.

[deceptive-daydreams]

So me and @gravedigginbbydoll were talking about Eddie after the upsidedown and I decided I needed to share it with y'all so you can cry with us

Eddie x reader, hurt/comfort blurb - post upsidedown Eddie, angst with fluff at the end

I'm thinking about post upside down Eddie, his injuries rendering him disabled, his left half of his body being weaker and not as mobile as his right due to nerve damage. He keeps getting better and better through physical therapy and hes super excited for his next doctors appointment because he's been making a lot of progress. You take him to his appointment and they tell him that the nerve damage is too severe and that this is probably the best it's gonna get which means he'd need to continue using his cane to walk and would still require assistance for basic tasks. They tell him that there's very little chance that his condition improves even as he continues physical therapy. As the doctor explains this to him, his expression is blank, no emotion behind his eyes. He hums every now and then to let them know he's listening but he seems very removed.

The doctor discusses the best course of action, instructing that he continues to live with someone who can assist him in his day to day until he's able to adapt to his new lifestyle. You hold his hand, brushing your thumb over his knuckles as a comforting gesture but he still stares straight ahead emotionless, only humming in response after every other sentence.

When the doctor asks if he has any questions he shakes his head, devoid of any kind of reaction. You take the initiative and ask things like if he should continue his exercises that he's learned in physical therapy, if there's anything at all that he can do to create a best case scenario and possibly improve his condition, etc. Throughout the conversation Eddie's like a ghost and completely checked out, eyes glued to the sterile white wall.

As you drive him home, back to his new trailer which had been paid for by the government, he maintains his stoic expression, staring ahead and not engaging in any conversation you attempt to start. When you try to ask him if he wants to stop by the diner for milkshakes before heading home he just shakes his head, not once offering you any eye contact.

When you pull up to the trailer, he gets out with a groan, his injuries still causing some pain though he persists through it and slams the car door, making his way to the wooden steps. You rush to his side but he waves you off, muttering an "I got it." somewhat irritably but still with a blank face.

Once he gets inside he sits on the couch, cane grasped in his hand tightly, his knuckles almost turning white. You're unsure of what to do from here, if you should leave him alone for a little bit and maybe just do some chores around the trailer or if you should keep him company. You don't want to make the wrong move, not because there's really any consequences but because he was just given some really life changing news that would scare anyone if they were in his position. You can't imagine being told that you aren't going to get much better when your mobility is already highly impacted. That you'll be fatigued almost 99% of the time. That it'd be best to look into finding a new profession, the role of a mechanic off the table. It's all so overwhelming.

Before you can decide if you're going to give him some space or simply sit with him and maybe hold his hand if he lets you, he tosses his cane to the floor, knocking against the coffee table in the process and startling you slightly. He's tugging on the roots of his hair before burying his head into his hands, a few sniffles heard from him.

At his outburst, you rush to him, kneeling on the floor in front of him, running your hands down his arms and whispering to him that it's okay. You know it's very clearly not okay but what else was there to say? He needed some kind of positivity. You knew it would be okay but right now it wasn't. Not for him. You start to whisper "I know, I know." sympathetically, running your fingers through his bangs gently.

Suddenly he's burying his face into your chest, clutching your shirt in his hands tightly as he sobs, gutteral cries erupting from him. Something you'd never heard come out of him before. You let him sob, scream, cry, everything. You don't tell him to shhh soothingly, you don't tell him to stop crying, you just let him feel. Because his life is never going to be the same and maybe there was some part of him before that somewhat knew that but to receive confirmation is a whole different thing. To hear someone else say those words to you is a different kind of startling. So you know in this moment he just needs to feel his emotions and let everything out. You hold him for several minutes, running your hands down his back, raking your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck how he likes.

When he finally calms down enough to talk, his cheeks are stained with tears, lashes collecting them before they fall, his voice broken. He starts talking about how he hates being a charity case, someone holding everyone else back, how no one deserves that, how you and Wayne don't deserve that. He doesn't want a babysitter. He hates that you have to help him all day, assisting in the most simple tasks that he used to be able to do with no issue. He hates seeing you fold his laundry, hates that you do the dishes and clean the kitchen, hates that you cook him meals. Not because he's ungrateful but because he should be able to do all those things himself. And now he knows he can't and it takes a toll on him.

He talks about how he'll be percieved by Dustin and the rest of the kids. How they won't think as highly of him anymore and that they'll forget all about him since he's unable to do everything he was once able to. DND nights will be limited because fatigue washes over him like a wave at the most random times and one second he'll have a good amount of energy, the next he feels so out of breath and needs to take a second. He thinks the kids will suddenly hate him and think he's such a downer with the way his condition wears him out and how slow he walks. He talks about how they were all so excited for this trip everyone had been planning to the waterpark and how he could technically still go but he wouldn't be able to do anything, he'd just sit there all day and probably get sun burnt without the fun of actually getting to go on the waterslides. Steve would probably revel in the fact that he'd become the go to 'big brother' figure, leaving Eddie in the dust.

You just hold him and shed a tear or two along with him because his life will forever be changed but you know he's still the same Eddie and he can't seem to grasp that. He thinks so lowly of himself and you can see in his eyes that he's devastated. You tell him that no matter what, everyone still loves him and that no one is going to forget about him just because he's disabled now. Sure, he's going to have to adapt to a new lifestyle but if anyone can do it, he can. You reassure him that no one will think less of him, that they'll still invite him to outtings even if most of them he may turn down due to his fatigue. They'll still include him regardless of his condition, even if it's something he might not be able to necessarily do, they'll still find a way to include him. His friends aren't just going to stop being his friends.

You remind him that you don't mind helping him throughout the day and neither does Wayne. You tell him that this has become one big family and after the events of the upsidedown, everyone is essentiallly bonded to each other. Wayne would rather him be alive than anything and the fact that Eddie almost died really did a number on him. So if Wayne has to help him with every day tasks, he doesn't mind one bit if it means he gets to continue living with his rebellious, loud nephew, if he gets to continue laughing with him over stupid late night shows on the couch and sit down at the diner every week to debrief and talk about life.

Although you mention the bright side of life and how his condition isn't going to define him and that he can still do the things he wants, just maybe a bit differently than he's used to, he doesn't take well to it. It's understandable, he was just given the news that his life will never be like it was before the stupid upsidedown. So him lashing out isn't exactly a surprise to you.

He doesn't yell but he does raise his voice and it almost sounds like he's reprimanding himself more than you. His words are harsh and he says things like "maybe everyone would be better off if I didn't make it out, you'd like that wouldn't you?", "What, so you think I'm just gonna hobble everywhere?", "You have no idea what it's like, my life has been taken from me, I can't play shows anymore, I can't even fuckin' work, I'm useless." You can tell he's being irrational, the news still fresh in his brain, causing him to act out and give in to the taunting words in his mind. When he tells you to leave him alone you do your best not to take it personally. He says it until you finally walk away, continuing to take care of some chores around the trailer which only drives him even more nuts. He sits there on the couch shaking, his world crumbling around him. You want to stay by his side, you need to be by his side but you also know that what he needs more is some space before you even try talking to him again.

You can tell that he's glaring at you for cleaning again so in order to provide him some ease you step outside onto the porch to sit and ponder. It breaks your heart that Eddie, your beloved boyfriend is so hard on himself and thinks he's become some kind of a nuissance when in fact its the opposite. The kids have been asking to see him but he's refused, hating that they'd see him like this. Dustin calls every day and asks how Eddie's doing, sometimes he stops by and drops off his favorite pie, an apple pie that Dustin's mom made once and Eddie can never get enough of. She had been making a lot more of them recently when she heard about Eddie. But every time Dustin dropped them off and politley asked if he could see Eddie, Eddie would refuse to come out of his room and tell you to thank Dustin for him but that he couldn't face him. He'd tell you to blame it on him being tired, that he was still recovering, which he was but Dustin knew something else was up. There was no changing Eddie's mind though and both you and Dustin knew that, respecting his boundaries and letting him make that call for himself.

When you step back inside the trailer, Eddie is right where you left him, sitting with his head tucked into his hands again, a few sniffles escaping him. He hears the door shut and his head snaps up and he's immediatly telling you "'m sorry, 'm so sorry I didn't mean to take it out on you." and you're just shushing him calmly, telling him that it's okay and that you're not mad at all. It makes him feel shittier because throughout this whole thing you've been so understanding and he feels like he makes it so hard. He's stubborn and he knows that.

You assure him that you know he's having a hard time with the news he received that morning and that you would've probably done the same thing. It's not easy to be told something like that and he should be able to go through his emotions, it's part of the process to acceptance. Eddie keeps apologizing and you're holding him, soothing him and telling him that he doesn't need to be sorry.

Once he's calmed down, you help him into the bathroom and set up a nice bath, the water steamy how he likes it so that it soothes his aches, some epsom salt sprinkled in the water along with a dash of your bubble bath because you know he not so secretly likes it. Even though to tell him you love to do this for him, he still feels humiliated, his face going red and hesitiance in his movements as you help him into the tub. So you join him and sit in front of him, facing him as you clean him, gently moving the rag over his skin and smearing bubbles along the way. It's tender and emotinal and he could cry again if he had any tears left just watching you care for him. No one should ever care this much about him but you do. You love him.

And he loves you. More than anything. You've stuck around even when shit got bad, really bad. He almost died and he knows the kind of trauma that inflicted on you and yet you remained his rock through the entire thing. He's been an asshole and he's lashed out several times in the sense that he gets verbally upset and says things in the heat of the moment and you still remain calm and collected as he backtracks and apologizes. Every nightmare he suffers through, you're right there with him doing his breathing exercies and comforting him, making him hot chocolate in the middle of the night, mini marshmallows, whipped cream and all. Eddie knows he is such a goddamn mess, his entire life one giant shitstorm after the other but you still find it in you to love him unconditionally.

After you clean him up, you get him situated in bed, all cozy and covered in his favorite blankets. You comb through his wet curls and use that stuff that he thinks smells so good on them to keep them nice. As you comb through his bangs, you jokingly tell him he could use a haircut and that you'll book him an appointment ASAP, him laughing, knowing that you're the one who trims his hair. Then you press a kiss to his cold nose. Once everything is all settled, you curl up in bed with him, carefully laying your head against his bare chest just how he likes. His stronger arm wraps around you and a small smile graces his lips. Life isn't perfect but with you it's bearable. With you he knows he's loved even when he feels he's at his most unlovable.

[rokishimizu4]

Nightwing’s Big Brother adventure

(Sorry for the long wait, I’m moving to a new place and starting a new job, so very busy with that. Also, I’m writing stories-BatFam, Yautjas, Undertale AUs, Homer (Odyssey) x Gods/Goddesses, Hetalia Nordic 5, etc.) This one is gonna be dialogue heavy, because I see Dick & Jason being chatty when especially nervous. (Aka there is a child that Jay told me threw up brains and powdered meth and it’s staring at me from across two buildings on top of a fucken roof) Enjoy!

Warning: Todd being Todd, foul language, in a bad mood Nightwing

The months leading up to Nightwing traveling back and forth from Blüdhaven to EVERYWHERE else was one of with a sharp decline in villain activity in his claimed city as he was not in the mood to be nice.

Especially when he learns that there may be a organization out there that’s probably experimenting on people that NO ONE can find and a child out there that Jay says “threw up a bunch of meth users’ brains and got so sick that I was ready to call dad and beg him for help”.

That shit does not fly by Dick Wayne Grayson, especially when it comes to children that might be experimented on.

So, cue Nightwing prowling across Blüdhaven from when the sun starts to go down to as soon as the sun is high in the sky with his team. He barely goes to bed before he decides to head over to Gotham to help out with whatever he can.

However, this night was far from his ‘normal’ routine as he was in route to a bank robbery when he notices that the next roof he was ready to jump onto had something strange sitting on the ledge, glowing purple in the flashing lights of the fuck ton of cop cars down below. (Dick let the cops have a head start cause he was feeling nice)

The thing reminds Nightwing of a being made of oil, slime, and water, and/or some type of clay. But, seeing the goop moving in the flashing lights like a living, breathing, human did something to his brain that reminded him of when he first met Jason Todd.

“Hello there, a lot of noise here huh? What are you doing out here so late at night? Do you need some help? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He asks in a soft tone, trying not to scare the mysterious child, who was smaller than Jason before his death and maybe even smaller than Damien when he was dropped off at Wayne Manor.

However before Nightwing could ask anymore questions, a beeping from his com renders him speechless. He quickly puts a hand up towards the figure, while his other hand goes up to his ear and presses a small button.

“Go for Nightwing.” “Hey Wing, just heard from your girlfriend that you haven’t been fucken sleeping dick head!” “Hood, I really don’t have the time for this.” “Oh no, the famous Nightwing doesn’t have the time to take his own god damn advice! Fuck you Wing, I’m gonna come over there and beat your ass til you can’t get the fuck out of bed for a week.”

”Hood, I really need you to watch your language at the moment.” “Why, you gonna come over here and wash my mouth out with soap? Too bad, I had worse. So try me bitch!”

”Jay Bird,” Dick could tell that Jason was now actually listening, “I have a goop child sitting a full roof top away from me that is staring at me and tilting it’s head side to side like it can hear you and understand you. So please, little brother watch your language.”

”Please tell me you’re joking. Dick, please fucken tell me you’re joking.” “I wish I was, because there is currently a robbery in progress and while the cops are there already, the still flashing lights do NOT fill me with confidence. And, from what you told me about this child, I refuse to leave them alone.”

”Where are you? Please tell me where you are NOW.” Jason growls and Dick did not need to hear Jason to know that he was rushing through his house/hideout getting clothes on and tripping his own feet to make it to Dick’s location.

”Blüdhaven, the biggest bank. Please hurry, cause I don’t know what to do yet.”

”Do you have any chocolate or anything like that on you? Yes, I’m being serious, cause the kid ate a shit ton of chocolate once it got all that shit out of its stomach.”

”How the fuck…” Dick’s jaw threatens to drop in confusion as he remembers that the backpack he was carrying was full of different types of chocolates and candy to make up his absences from date nights with Kori.

“Don’t fuck tell me that you have chocolate on you.. Pfft!” Jason busts out laughing as he realizes that the kid probably followed Dick because he has fucken chocolate!

”Jay, please shut your mouth. I’m gonna give this kid some chocolate and if you’re not here in the next 10 minutes, I’m gonna convince Kori to adopt this kid with me.”

”Hey! Fuck off! I called dibs first!”

Dick cuts Jason off with a double beep, which closes the conversation, and places some chocolate bars on his combo sticks and balances it over to the building roof in between the two of them, and slides it onto the roof. Then retracts so the kid could grab and go if they wanted to.

Which, to the disappointment of Dick, and Jason, who just landed on the same roof of Dick’s building, is exactly what the child did.

In a blink of two pairs of eyes, the goopy child grabbed the small stack of chocolates bars with a pair of tentacles and then jumps off the FUCKEN BUILDING, only to disappear into the mass of flashing lights like mist.

“WTF?” “Did you?” Two coms beeps-“Wing/Hood to Oracle!”

[benis-chillin]

IDW's Fang the Hunter and the failure of Neo-Classic Sonic

(In case you're stupid, this is an opinion piece made for discussion)

Greetings, boys and goyles. I'm Benis, otherwise known as Benis Chillin, Sonic lore enthusiast and fanfic writer. I say the latter part because I want people to know that I'm well aware that many of my criticisms are based in the fact that I'm a writer, and unlike most people, I try to run more by objective canon than my whims. I explain it more here.

And per those standards…The current state of Classic Sonic SUCKS.

Now, I am a Modern Sonic fan through and through. I LIKED the 4 main Classic games when I played through them, but Sonic Adventure was the one that truly hooked me in. The world established by that game, and the ones that followed, just have my interest more, and I would prefer things be made in service to THAT.

However, to the greater detriment of society, Sonic Generations happened, and Classic Sonic was reestablished as part of the brand after years of Modern Sonic being THE face of everything, with even collections of Classic games using Modern Sonic artwork. And with the environment of the internet in the 2010's, it's no surprise that they decided to let Classic be its own sort of "brand" with Sonic Mania(bleh)and Forces(less bleh).

But they had a fun spin on it: A split timeline.

As explained above, Classic Sonic was given his own little mini-continuity to run around in, which is actually a brilliant idea, from a brand perspective. Original Classic Sonic had the creative freedom to do whatever the heck he wanted to, since he was the main Sonic. However, new Classic material, or Neo-Classic material, as I shall now refer to it, if left in the main timeline, inherently has the “prequel” problem where things HAVE to have some kind of hook for it to really be worth having another branch of the brand available. I wouldn’t say EVERY brand has this problem, but even the most masterful uses of that format have to deal with the fact that the future is predetermined, and Neo-Classic Sonic material just does not have the leg room to work around that problem.

So, split the timeline, and just do whatever with it. It’s an AU, go nuts! Let a part of the brand reset and grow in a different way for that audience who isn’t into that Modern stuff!

And we had a promising enough start with the 30th anniversary comics! Full of interesting returns that you didn’t really see in the mainline books. Heck, we got an actual look at the design of Metal Knuckles, that was pretty rad!

Bark, Bean, and Fang also had an appearance that made their old Archie team somewhat canon, after they only appeared as illusions in Mania.  Sure, these characters were neat in the Archie comics, but getting a proper form of that in a continuity free of that Satam Stank was nice. This particular comic being a separate thing from my main love, while not diving into the weird stuff that would turn me off from it, inherently made the comic more interesting, even though I’m not much of a Classic Sonic fan.

And so this sentiment continued through the next specials, but something else began to shift on Sega’s side. The dumbassery of single timeline was stated to be the new status quo, and they started acting as such with new Sonic material.

Sonic Superstars came out, too, and my feelings on that are known. Now, after his appearance in the comics had been a bit of a treat, even if you didn't like him, Fang was in an official Sonic game again, with 3D renders to boot!

...But he was still the same jackass with barely any personality that he was before. Because Superstars was TRYING to be like 3&K with its storytelling, while lacking basically every element that made 3&K's storytelling work. Combine the lackluster story and music, both of which were caused by the idea of it being a Neo-Classic game, with the fact that the graphics were 3D, and now the question is being raised of, "Why wasn't this just a Modern Sonic game?" 

Cause from an outsider's perspective, it being a Neo-Classic game only served to hold it back in a ton of ways!

For example, the character of Trip. She seems well liked in the Sonic fanbase, but Sega's kinda funky with how they handle characters being both Classic and Modern. Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Eggman, and Metal Sonic seem to be allowed to exist in both parts of the brand, but that's it. 

Knuckles Chaotix is said to be canon, but the Classic Chaotix are unlikely to appear anytime soon since Sonic Heroes soft-rebooted them. Mecha Sonic was allowed to appear in the Modern "Scrapnik Island" mini-series, but I suspect it's seen by Sega as a "modern reboot" rather than a character being allowed to co-exist between the two brands again. Heck, they didn't even have the guts to show the Classic versions of the characters during the flashbacks, even though logically, they were still referencing 3&K.

 So will Trip be allowed to appear in any meaningful way in the future? Probably not, the way things have been going.

So, if all Classic characters can only appear in Neo-Classic material, then the Neo-Classic material has to be as good as it can be, right?

Well, that's where the Fang mini comes in.

Written by Ian Flynn, who has very much been showing how utterly stretched he is across so many Sonic projects lately(even if I would still regard him as a fairly decent writer, just...Has his limits), the Fang mini is the epitome of BORING! 

The basic story is that Fang and his gang are seeking out, "The eighth Chaos Emerald," visit a few people who tell him it doesn't exist, and then Eggman sends him to deal with the Hardboiled Heavies going rogue.

Along the way, Fang is just randomly a dick to his friends, and they end up abandoning his ass at the end because this comic is, for some reason, a direct prequel to Sonic Superstars, and we apparently needed an explanation of why they weren't there?

If my summary didn't sound that bad to you, it's because you don't have to go through the grueling wait that being an IDW Sonic fan entails.

Seriously, the wait between issues of IDW Sonic has become a real problem the past few years. Ever since the Metal Virus ended, the main book has had a massive problem with pacing. 

And sure, there are arcs and ideas I like there, I AM a fan, but not a lot HAPPENS in each issue compared to earlier in the book's run. Even re-reading them, the pace is oddly slow for a book about a fast character, and the issue especially persists here...On top of the main book being paused for a bit so THIS shit could come out.

(Current arc is doing better, though, so hope they keep that up)

Issues 1&2 are wasted with Fang harassing Sonic and Knuckles for a bit that, guess what? Goes nowhere! And then we briefly divert to Fang and co. in a watery old Eggbase so Eggman can capture them and actually get the plot going…3 issues into a 4-issue mini! Then, we finally get to the main event, where all will be revealed! And…

It's the Warp Topaz from the main book. The Hardboiled Heavies found it in a cave, where nobody ELSE knew it was, so it can't be the source of the 8th Chaos Emerald rumors.

Like I told ya, that went NOWHERE!

So they fight the bland-as-shit Heavies, Fang adds the Warp Topaz to his hover bike thing, and the airship is wrecked, leaving Sonic and Tails to have no idea what just happened, their involvement being a complete wash.

And our story ends with Bark and Bean rocketing off in little hovercars that just raise the question of why they didn't use those when Fang threatened to kick them off in Issue 2, since he has no say in whether or not they launch.

I actually managed to ask Ian Flynn about this on the Bumblekast, and this was his response:

Worth noting that the final issue has an additional editor that didn't work on the previous issues. Not saying EVERYONE'S blameless in this, but if I had to choose a weak point…

This mini-series encapsulates every little issue the Neo-Classic line has had since they officially eschewed split timeline.

 It feels the need to go out of its way to explain shit that doesn’t matter, like where Bark and Bean were during Superstars, Fang having the Warp Topaz, but not using it during Superstars creates a gaping plot hole that will not wash away, and it not going away at the end brings up a lot of timeline issues that I can only hope that Knuckles special resolves! 

In fact, why didn’t HE get the mini!?

Even in his Classic state, Knuckles has a LOT more to carry a story with! From the secrets of his island, to the mysteries of his people(which Adventure and the Frontiers promo animation hinted at), to even just doing his own treasure hunts! Heck, you could even pin him against both Fang’s crew and the HBH, and you’ve got enough of a banger to hold 4 action-packed issues right there! 

But no! Instead, we get a book that seems written to depend on the personalities of the protagonists…When said protagonists barely have any personality.

Like, let’s consider Team Chaotix from Sonic Heroes ALONE. Vector is the loud, bombastic leader with a love of music, and true detective skills, as showcased by him figuring out that their employer was Eggman on his own by Rail Canyon. Espio is the disciplined, if a bit full of himself, ninja, taking down the bad guys with stealth and precision, while also being somewhat melodramatic. And Charmy is the excitable ADHD kid of the group who may occasionally want to go off-track and play around in the giant casino area.

These characters are simple, yet so full of personality that you immediately like them(unless you’re a 2010’s YouTuber). THESE guys can hold a narrative.

By comparison, what do Fang’s gang have after 3 comic appearances and Sonic Superstars?

Fang is a hired goon who has goons, Bean is “funny” bomb man, and Bark is the silent strong guy with a soft spot.

That is really it.

And this was FINE back when they were still in “Sega forgot us” territory. Being obscure oddities that we would rarely get in stories actually did a lot of heavy lifting for their more limited personalities. Despite what the current writers seem to feel about such limits, judging by Silver and Blaze's current "vacations" in the main book, characters being rarer can actually endear you to them.

But now, these guys aren't really that rare. In fact, I’d say they’re about equal to Team Chaotix in terms of mass media exposure within the past 5 years, and they’re considerably lacking in comparison. 

Hell, even compared to the characters created RECENTLY in IDW and the Modern games, they're pretty lackluster. Yet I'm supposed to care about these assholes just as much as those guys?

Which, really, is how ALL of the Neo-Classic media feels these days.

Look, I get that Neo-Classic Sonic media doesn’t want to step on the toes of Modern Sonic. I do. But I really think it needs a good shake-up.

Quit treating it like it’s this special thing, because it isn’t anymore. Find a more solid identity for this branch of Sonic if you want it to survive, cause THIS doesn’t cut it anymore.

AND ACKNOWLEDGE THAT TIMELINE SPLIT ESTABLISHED IN A MAINLINE GAME, DAMNIT! THERE’S A STORY IN UNDOING THAT! TELL IT, OR I WILL!

[kozachenko]

Starting off the 2024 season with Keiki because I've been thinking about her a lot lately

Artist's Note:

I decided to experiment a little more with my rendering style via using a more traditional approach to drawing in the shadows. I like how much texture this piece has as a result, my friend told me it looks like something out of a storybook and that was the look I was inspired by so I'm glad it turned out that way.

Also, when it came to doing the front view of the nose, I just went "fuck it" and made it a dot because why learn anatomy when you can just default to what 5 year old you did when drawing faces?

I also had an idea of how to draw Keiki's dress as that has always been something I've struggled with since it's kinda confusing to draw lol. I also gave Keiki some earrings in the shape of a kofun tomb because we need more Keiki with earrings (I could have also taken from IRL but I'll save that for when I draw Keiki next). Speaking of Kofun tombs, I made the thing she's laying down on the shape of a Kofun tomb, because this is also kind of a redraw of some old Keiki fanart from 2021 that I will show right here.

I liked the concept of it (i.e. Keiki in the middle of a Kofun keyhole with the fire thing she has surrounding her) so I decided to try at that concept again just for fun. Back then I was very adamant on staying as close to canon as possible, but now I'm a lot more lenient with how I draw the characters. The pose in the 2021 drawing was inspired by that one Shinra-Bansho records MV where Keiki showed up for 5 seconds and the rest of it was Yachie but yeah. Also I always thought Keiki's apron was a dark green BUT NO IT WAS JUST A DARK SHADE OF FUCKING TEAL ZUN WHAT IS THE COLOUR THEORY BULLSHIT YOU HAVE CONFUSED ME FOR SO LONG-

anyways, I would say this is a pretty strong start to 2024 art wise, I'm gonna keep experimenting with this new rendering style because I like it a lot!

Below I put a comparison between the two drawings in case any of you wanted to see the two drawings side by side

[bullet-prooflove]

Halloween Bingo Card: Cursed - Douglas Hamilton x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @lucymalfoy18 @ashrionest @mimi-8793

Companion piece to:

Mississippi Meanders - Douglas doesn't expect to meet the love of his life.

Pedestal - Douglas puts you on a pedestal, much to his detriment.

The Prettiest Damn Thing - Douglas regrets having to leave the morning after.

Something Special - You decide to give Douglas something special after you notice how stressed he is.

Photo Finish - You confront Douglas when some personal pictures are used by the press.

Services Rendered - Douglas decides there's going to be a reckoning.

Douglas is cursed.

He knows that because one of his constituents literally assaulted him, clutching onto the lapels of his suit as she stared into his face with vacant eyes and told him he’s going to die alone, bleeding to death in the dark.  He’d laughed it off at the time. She wasn’t the first crazy to accost him and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.  

Her words come back to haunt him now as he lays on the floor of his office, choking on his own blood. There’s a letter opener sticking out from between his ribs and his white shirt is soaked in blood. He’s trying to frame his hands around the wound to stifle the bleeding, but it’s flowing too quickly around his fingers.

The darkness starts to cave in on him, his breathing becoming more laboured, he’s not sure if that’s because he’s panicking or dying. He knows help isn’t coming. Martha’s the one that controls his schedule and the last thing she had done after stabbing him was turn out the lights so no one would be drawn towards his office.

“You don’t understand.” She had said when he confronted her about cheque. “She didn’t love you.”

“But I love her.” He had countered as she toyed with something on his desk. “Fuck Martha, do you understand the damage you’ve done…”

And that’s when he feels it, that searing pain in his side. The world tilts, spinning and suddenly he’s on his knees because the earth seems to move from underneath him.

“You are so fucking ungrateful Douglas.” Martha tells him, gripping his chin and forcing his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I have done everything for you and you still couldn’t see what was right in front of you the whole time.”

She’d kissed him then, her hand sliding down to his throat, squeezing. The oxygen had shut off in his brain and it had been like he was suddenly in freefall. He remembers hitting the carpet hard, seeing her standing there, her fingertip running across the blood that’s smeared on her lips from where he coughed it into her face. He watches as she takes a tissue from her purse, wiping it across her mouth before she steps over him, turns out the light and closes the door quietly behind her.

And now here he lies, Douglas Hamilton.

The first Mayor of New Orleans to be stabbed to death in his office.

He’d be laughing if it wasn’t just so fucking sad.

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[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 22: [IT2] diavolo, mammon / on fathers

ao3 link

note: it2 is my new clever abbreviation for the 'it takes two' au and this starts around the asmo arc (i.e. during the retreat at the castle)! also i got a little in my feels while writing this so if you'd like to play a game with me, try to spot which parts of the venting came from a place of experience lol

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

It’s been a long while since Diavolo last wanted to hide from a gathering, and longer still since he lacked the self-consciousness to duck behind his father’s wings when things got overwhelming. Upon spotting IK’s tense little figure from the opposite side of the ballroom, however, he remembers the feeling just as sharply.

He keeps a genial smile on his face as the demons in his company continue chattering, interjecting a remark every now and then so as not to cause suspicion. When he notes that the Demonus in their glasses has drained enough, he dismisses them under the guise of inviting them to refill their drinks, and quickly sidles away.

It’s hard to move inconspicuously, but Barbatos - timely as ever - melts out of the crowd to efficiently ward off any would-be approachers, directing them instead in the direction of some of the R.A.D. faculty hovering by the buffet table. Hopefully the good professors won’t mind picking up the conversation in his stead.

IK is all but hiding behind a pillar. He ducks down and, keeping his voice low, says, “Hello. How are you doing?”

She jumps, then relaxes when he recognises him. “Uh— hi. I’m alright, thanks.”

“Are you sure? You’re all on your own over here.” He looks around the ballroom, but fails to spot any of the brothers on his first sweep. Which is a little alarming, actually, seeing as they usually stand out so much. “I think I’d better keep you company for a while.”

“You don’t need to do that,” IK says, but looks relieved all the same. “...there’s so many people here.”

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? I’m never as used to it as I think I am.”

She casts a glance around the room, then shrinks back and makes an attempt at melting into the wall. “...they’re staring.”

“They are,” He agrees, and sidles a little closer to the wall, flaring his wings as if stretching, and then closing them again with IK carefully hidden in their folds. “There! Is that better?”

“They’re going to stare more now,” She mumbles, but she does look a little pleased.

“In our direction, perhaps. But I can assure you that they won’t be able to see through me.”

“...thank you.”

“Of course.”

She hovers awkwardly for a moment. (Maybe he should’ve gotten a chair.)

“Where’s your father?” Diavolo asks finally.

IK shifts. “...dunno. He was talking to Lucifer last time I looked.”

“You didn’t stay with him?”

“Didn’t want to.”

Diavolo decides to forgo looking for Zhao first - he’s plain enough that he’s rendered practically invisible among demons - and instead scans the ballroom for two distinctive pairs of black-feathered wings. Lucifer, unusually, is out on the dance floor, and teaching IK’s father the intricacies of a traditional Devildom waltz.

They don’t seem to be having a bad time, at least, but Zhao still looks vaguely terrified. Then again, Diavolo’s fairly sure that that’s just what his face is like.

He decides to leave them to it. Attempting to wave either of them over would only attract more undue attention. The only issue with their current arrangement is that none of IK’s other friends will be able to spot her, either…

Or so he thinks. A few moments later, Mammon finally fights his way out of the crowd and makes a beeline straight for Diavolo - who, by all means, should be the only figure he sees by the wall.

But it isn’t Diavolo he addresses when he gets there. Eyes fixed firmly on the dark crevice in his wings, he ducks down and hisses, “I thought ya’d gotten lost! Tell me next time ya decide to play hide-n-seek!”

“Don’t be upset, Mammon,” Diavolo interjects mildly. “IK was only waiting by the wall. I was the one who offered to hide her.”

Mammon barely even gives him a cursory nod, let alone the customary bow. He withdraws a little, though, and looks less irritated. “...well, ya shouldn’t be wanderin’ around on your own, neither. I told ya to stick with the others.”

IK, uncharacteristically, does not respond. After a moment, Mammon deflates a little, then sighs.

“Let’s go outside, eh?” He asks, softer now. “We can take a walk around the gardens, where it’s quiet.”

A brief silence. Then IK says quietly, “Okay.”

Diavolo withdraws his wings, and offers what he hopes is a warm smile. Mammon spares him a dismissive wave, but IK makes an effort to smile back before she’s led away.

It isn’t long before he’s pulled back to the party, but the whole matter stays on his mind through the rest of the retreat. That same night, a certain unruly group of demons and humans get trapped in the underground catacombs, and he’s there to greet them when they finally stumble out.

He watches Zhao gently push his daughter in front of him once they say farewell to Henry and step back through into the castle. IK, on the other hand, doesn’t look at her father at all, and speeds up to walk with Leviathan at the front of the group, staring straight ahead even as he continues to watch her anxiously from behind.

Two days later, as he sees the guests out as they head back to the House of Lamentation, he stops IK briefly. Mammon stops as well, but remains a good few feet away - not eavesdropping too obviously, but evidently unwilling to leave them unsupervised.

“Feel free to come over whenever you like,” He says with a smile. “It gets a little boring around here sometimes, you know?”

“...sure.”

——

“You know, I’m beginning to think that you aren’t coming here just for my company,” Diavolo says when Mammon shows up with IK for the fourth time this week.

“Eh? What makes ya think that?” Mammon ushers her into the entrance hall and glances surreptitiously behind himself before following. “We’re just havin’ so much fun. Ain’t that right, kiddo?”

IK looks mildly anxious and doesn’t reply. A moment later, Barbatos arrives to greet the guests - wearing a hospitable smile that has begun to look rather quizzical the more he has to use it.

“Welcome… back,” He says after a moment - allowing himself to exchange a look with Diavolo. “Would you like anything?”

“Oh, we were thinkin’ of just going around the gardens again.” Mammon coughs and gives IK a hard pat on the shoulder. “Ya don’t mind, right?”

“Certainly not. We can take an extra long walk today - I’m rather in want of things to do.”

“Then I shall clean in the meantime,” Barbatos says - notably not reminding Diavolo of the extra deadlines he could be preparing for with the free time. “Perhaps you would like to take tea afterwards?”

He glances at the back of IK’s head, then gives Diavolo another look. He gets the message; his butler, in a somewhat quietly bewildered way, is concerned.

“That would be lovely, Barbatos,” He says with a smile. “What do you say, IK? I seem to recall that you liked the shortcake last week.”

She doesn’t respond until Mammon nudges her. “Um— sure, thanks.”

Barbatos bows and retreats back into the castle. Diavolo turns to his guests with a smile. “Well, to the garden we go!”

It doesn’t escape his notice how the two of them keep their conversation to a whisper. Diavolo’s well used to not understanding inside jokes or keeping out of the fluent arguments the brothers have with each other, but this is different. Mammon is doing roughly all of the talking; IK only gives half-hearted shrugs and shakes of her head in response.

He keeps a count from the corner of his eye, and by the time they’ve gone in a full circle around the hedgerows, IK has laughed exactly once. That’s the sharpest dip there’s been in any of these visits, and by the looks of it, the number isn’t about to go up.

“I’m feeling a little tired,” He lies as they come to a pond. “Would you mind if we sat down for a while?”

He invites IK to sit by the water with him. He still hasn’t gotten around to adding any fish, but IK seems happy to just watch it ripple.

Mammon is watching him unusually closely from IK’s other side. Diavolo’s known for a while that he can be much more observant than he’s given credit for, but it feels odd to be the subject of his scrutiny. Clearly he’ll be reprimanded if he goes about this the wrong way.

“You’re not actually tired, are you?” IK asks after a moment. “You want to talk to me about something.”

…and clearly he isn’t very subtle. Diavolo admits it readily. “You’re right. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

The speed of the response only makes him worry more. A look at Mammon’s face says that he feels the same way.

“It’s starting to feel like you spend more time here than at the House of Lamentation.” IK looks up at him blankly, and he panics a little. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, of course!”

IK stares at him for another long moment. Like her father, she avoids meeting anyone’s eyes - but when she does, it’s so intense that it almost burns.

“Uh, we should go,” Mammon says uncomfortably, starting to get to his feet. “Thanks for the—”

“I have to insist you stay,” Diavolo interrupts, and even Mammon can’t refuse a direct command from him. “It’s my duty to ensure your well-being. Whatever it is, I’d like to help.”

“You can’t,” IK says forcefully. Though she doesn’t say it, her voice silently adds, You wouldn’t get it. 

It’s a sentiment that Diavolo’s grown accustomed to, whether spoken or implied. His position is one-of-a-kind - most demons don’t believe they have much in common with a crown prince, and the demons that might consider him a friend don’t believe they do, either.

In most ways, it’s a fair assessment. He doesn’t live like most demons, and he’ll never know what it had been like to fall. He does, however, know what it’s like to have a father.

“It’s not easy to put into words, is it?” He asks softly.

IK looks at him for another longer, then turns her head stiffly to the side, and goes back to staring into the water. 

Mammon is watching her with the same expression that Zhao had worn as they left the catacombs. He’s seen it before on Lucifer as well, when he thinks no one is looking, and one of his brothers is in an unusual amount of trouble.

“They’ll always worry,” He says. “Not always in ways that are helpful - sometimes in ways that hurt. Even if you don’t want them to.”

IK sighs. “...he never worried like that before. He wasn’t around to worry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“He loves you a lot.”

“I know.”

“But it doesn’t change things, does it?”

“...no.”

They listen to the splash of the pond.

“My father loved me,” Diavolo says after a while. “I’m sure of that. When I was born, I flew down to meet him, when most young demons still don’t know how to use their wings. He was proud that day. But I didn’t grow to be a perfect son - nor a perfect heir. I never found out which he wanted more.”

IK glances at him through the reflection in the water. He continues, “I still loved him, as most sons do. It was enough for a time. But then I grew up - and I’m not sure if we ever liked each other after that. I’m not sure if I loved him more than I feared him, either.”

“If you hadn’t flown,” IK says, “Do you think it’d all be the same?”

He smiles ruefully at her. “...I don’t know. But I think I’ve made peace with that.”

IK nods. She knows exactly what’s going through his head.

“Man,” Mammon mutters a few moments later. “What am I even s’posed to say about that?”

Diavolo jumps a little. To be honest, he’d forgotten he was there. “Oh…”

“To be honest, ya never really think about what ‘Father’ means when you’re an angel,” Mammon adds, and Diavolo wisely decides to stay quiet. “He’s just there. He’s just ‘Father’. I mean, you’re meant to love him or somethin’, but I never saw him, did I? So when Lucifer told us he was startin’ a rebellion, I joined in, and I never missed him. Father, I mean.”

“But Lucifer did. That was the weird part. He took Michael real seriously when he was younger, and I reckon that’s why - he believed in all that stuff about Father lovin’ us all so much. But I never thought about it that hard, ‘cause it never felt like anythin’ real, you know? He was ‘Father’, but he wasn’t really a father. At least, I never felt like it.”

He pauses to consider it. “...it’s like that with Lucifer, sometimes. You know he loves ya, but sometimes you just don’t see it, no matter how many times ya remind yourself. But he’s tryin’ his best, y’know? He doesn’t know how else to do it.”

IK stares silently at the pond. Diavolo does the same, and suddenly spots that exact same worry from before on his face as well.

“Uh... your dads are a lot worse than mine.” She makes an attempt at an ironic smile. “We’re just regular humans. There isn’t a lot to say.”

“I think that’s precisely why there is,” Diavolo replies. “Humour us, won’t you?”

“...fine.”

IK folds her arms and ducks her head in earnest, using her hair as a shield for her face. On the surface of the water, Diavolo regards the dull defeat in her eyes.

“My dad’s the best,” She says suddenly. “He works harder than anyone. I’m glad he’s here because he gets to rest. But he isn’t resting. He thinks I still need taking care of. But I don’t. I don’t need him to worry about me, I don’t need him to look after me. I know how to do that by myself.”

She swipes her sleeve fiercely across her face, then continues forcefully, “I used to make him carry me around everywhere. It was the first thing he did when he got back, no matter how tired he was. Sometimes he just fell because he didn’t have the energy, and we'd just lie on the floor for a bit."

“And I was always waiting for him to come home. I was always waiting for him to pick me up again. Because I needed him, and sometimes he wasn’t there when I looked for him, but he’d come if I waited long enough. But now he’s just there. He’s just there and he’s—”

(—she looks just like him when she’s about to cry—)

“—he’s the best and I hate him. I was tired, too. I didn’t know how to make my bed or tie my shoes or anything. So I had to learn everything by myself. He kept telling me to leave it all to him, but then I could only go back to waiting, so what else was I supposed to do?”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need his help anymore. Why couldn’t he have taught me in the first place? I just wanted my dad. He fought to have me, but he couldn’t fight to stay with me, and I know why, so I can’t even get angry.”

She tosses a rock into the pond. The splash breaks the reflection of her face into hundreds of rippling pieces. Mammon chews anxiously on his lip and places a hesitant arm around her shoulder.

“I’m probably making him sad,” She says finally. “But I don’t know what to do anymore.”

A moment passes. Diavolo knows better than to try the same thing as Mammon. Instead, he takes a breath, shifts form, and curls a wing around her instead.

He glances into the pond one more time. The cool water makes his eyes look more yellow than gold - just like his father’s.

Diavolo doesn’t recall ever being folded into his father’s wings like this. He only remembers hiding in them by himself. But his father had never told him not to, either.

“I think… this is a decision only you can make,” He says after a moment. “There isn’t a right or wrong answer. But, for what it’s worth - you’re still young. Nothing is irreparable. And I think your father will wait for as long as it takes.”

“No rush,” Mammon adds with a supportive nudge. “As long as you’re happy, okay? We’ll be alright.”

“Sure,” IK mutters. If she believes them even a little, then Diavolo is happy with that. “...can we talk about something else now?”

“I think Barbatos will be done with his sweeping by now,” Diavolo says, and gets back to his feet. “Let’s go have some cake, shall we?”

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

Mature content ahead so please be warned : 18+

_ "You seem.. distracted," he breathlessly utters while peering up at you from between your thighs, "aren't you enjoying this?" and the smirk following suit is an indication of his teasing, and confidence in his skilled tongue.

_ "Wha.. no, no that's not it!" truth be told, his wondrous mouth has always been enough to fog up your brain and renders you a moaning mess, and this time is no different as he has you sitting comfortably in the same chair you sat on months ago when you came for your tattoo, only this time, your skirt is hiked up around your waist and your legs are resting on his shoulders while your panties are discarded somewhere. 

How scandalous.

Here you thought you'd have dinner together between his scheduled appointments, but he had something else entirely in mind.

You aren't worried about someone walking in though, since everyone else is diligently working at the moment, you are however still not over what happened a few weeks ago when he came to visit you at night, all troubled and distraught.

_ "Look at you, swallowing my fingers eagerly." his teasing words are flustering, and his long thick digits are pushing you closer to insanity. He's aware of what he's doing to you, moving them slowly in and out of your fluttering heat, and curling them right at that sweet spot he knows all too well.

His lips are peppering your shaky thighs with soft kisses as his fingers keep spreading you deliciously, and you know that you will certainly not hold out for much longer.

_ "Shouta.. yes, keep going, please." you squeeze your eyes shut and arch off the leather chair while threading your own fingers through his beautiful hair, further messing his already messy bun. 

You are grateful for the blasting music outside of the booth, because everyone would hear your sinful moans otherwise.

His fingers quicken and his mouth envelops your reddened clit, sucking it hungrily and coaxing your release.

Your legs tighten around his neck and your eyes shoot open while shockwaves of pleasure rock you to the core and leave you pulsing in the aftermath of your orgasmic release.

Your throat is dry and your whole body is tingling as you strive to regain your composure, it was wonderful as usual, and for a moment there, you were actually able to forget about what's been bothering you for weeks.

_ "That was.. so good." a dumb smile is splayed across your face as your body is finally relaxed.

_ "I'm glad gorgeous," he replies with a chuckle while lowering your legs carefully, "so, did this help you relax?"

_ "What do you mean?" you're still on cloud nine and your mind is too fuzy to comprehend the meaning behind his words.

_ "No, never mind," he runs a hand through the loose strands framing his handsome face, "I just worry sometimes when you overwhelm yourself with work or other things." and for some reason, it feels as if he regrets his original statement and is trying to make light of the situation, perhaps because he's the one who's been troubled lately, and deep down he knows that it's affecting you in the worst of ways.

He means well though, obviously he does, and you know he's truly worried about you, but somehow you find his words irritating.

How can he act oblivious when he's the reason why you've been a mess lately? If anything, he actually owes you some answers.

Your smile is suddenly replaced with a frown, and you sigh out frustratedly as you carefully stand up on shaky legs and push your way past him in order to fetch your panties, "I should be the one telling you this."

He doesn't reply, and instead keeps his attention on you as he awaits an explanation.

_ "Shouta, isn't there anything you want to tell me?" you ask him calmly, eyes full of longing and a tinge of pain. 

You didn't have to say anything more for him to understand your request, and you just stand there patiently waiting to hear his answer.

He walks up to you, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes looking everywhere but you, and it reminds you of the day he visited your shop for the first time, because that day too, he was shy and a bit awkward, just like he is right now.

_ "It's not a big deal I promise." he feigns a smile as he answers, but you can see right through him, whatever happened that day -a couple of weeks ago- must have been a huge deal and it is clearly still affecting him.

He can deny it all he wants, but he's been distressed lately and it tortures you to witness, and what hurts you even more is that despite it all, he is still the same loving and caring man you've always known, and that night he visited you -a few weeks ago- was the first and only time he allowed himself to be vulnerable around you.

 

He heaves in defeat and you watch with frightened eyes as his head hangs low and his voice comes out, but nothing could ever have prepared you for what he has to say.

_ "Eri, she's.."

Your heart sinks as you're expecting the worst, this is about Eri, but what can it be? Is she ill? Did something bad happen at school? It can't be, you see her all the time and talk to her on the phone almost daily, and she is as bright and cheerful as she's always been, so what is it then?

_ "What about Eri? Shouta tell me quick, please." you grip onto his arms tightly and shake him as your patience was wearing thin already.

_ "Her mom is back, and she wants her."

No really, nothing could ever have prepared you for what he had to say..

_ "How could she.. after all these years." you know all too well that it isn't your place to comment on the subject, this thing in particular does not concern you at all, it is a family matter that has existed way before you even came along, but for God's sake you're unable to contain your anguish.

You know what these two mean to each other, to him, Eri isn't just his daughter, she's his whole life and everything in his existence revolves around her, and to her, he's the only family she has ever known and loved. Nothing's fair about this.

_ "It will be okay, I'm sure it will be fine, yeah." and it's a weird smile he's showing, one you're not used to seeing from him.

who is he even trying to convince? 

_ "But Shouta what about this is fine?"

_ "I have to believe that it is! Or else I'll go insane!" his hands are shaking and his voice is cracking now, as he's barely standing on his own two feet.

He has never been this way in front of you before and it kills you to witness.

You feel useless and hate yourself for triggering him this way, this isn't what he needs..

Oh right.. this isn't what he needs right now, not a reminder of this catastrophe but rather a reassurance, a sliver of hope, a moment to forget. It's precisely why he hasn't told you about it until you've brought it up a bit earlier.

_ "The man who took care of her all by himself for years, who raised her well and gave her all his love, who was both parents, is the same man standing right in front of me," it's all clear now and you know precisely what needs be done as you gently grasp on to his trembling hands, "you know what? It will be fine, Eri belongs with you and no power can change it, and I truly believe that."

He's speechless listening to you speak, lips parted and expression finally relaxing, this is indeed what he's been looking for, just a little peace of mind.

He pulls you to his chest and engulfs you tightly, so tightly in fact that you're left breathless in his strong arms.

His shoulders shake and a stream of hot liquid falls from his face to wet your own as he finally bares his all, and you stand there like a pillar for him to lean on,  listening as he breaks down in your embrace.

To be continued..