#drifting home fanart

[cerealwriter125]

precious lil moss boy 🌱

[keferon]

Okay I’m. Usually. Usually I don’t enjoy human aus and usually I hate drawing transformers as humans because it feels so wrong to my brain.

But then I stumbled upon Dream of something more by Gemma_Inkyboots and aaauuuhh fuck. Here’s the pile of the most vague and unspecific and undetailed fanart. Because I’m being torn between “I can’t drawing human designs” and “If don’t draw something for this fic I die”.

[homeforall]

I love her<3

[localplantghost]

Watching Drifting Home

[cumironi]

hi I see you want a request! hb some angst to comfort !drunkgojoxreader where he always shows up drunk confessing his feelings but then acts normal when he’s sobered up. Reader is tired of mixed signals and ends up going on a date with someone when gojo happens to visit sobered up

you can do whatever you want if u happen to be inspired! Hope this helps you get out of your funk

“OH, MY LOVER IS DRUNK” : GOJO SATORU

you and him, you were supposed to be best friends— supposed to. but neither you nor gojo can't keep the feeling of falling. he tries to deny the feeling so hard that he has to drown himself with alcohol, the thing he loves the least, just to forget the feeling, only to come back to you every time he is drunk.

w/c 4.5k

warning : drunk! gojo satoru, non-sorcerer gojo!, angst.

p.s thank you for giving me a chance to write you something, and I'm sorry it took me long enough to write this :'), but i hope you enjoy it! (i don't think i make this angst enough for my liking)

fanart credit to the owner.

it was a tranquil night, the moon casting a soft, ethereal glow through your apartment windows, bathing the room in a gentle light. though the clock read 3:00 AM, sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to find peace. lying on your cold bed, you stared at the ceiling, each pattern and shadow playing tricks on your eyes in the dim light. the blanket was draped neatly up to your stomach, its weight a comforting presence against the chill of the night.

your hands lay flat on top of the blanket, fingers nervously tapping the back of the other hand in a slow, rhythmic cadence. the silence of the night seemed to amplify every tiny sound: the soft rustle of the sheets, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment, the almost imperceptible hum of the city outside. despite the stillness, a storm of thoughts churned within you, each one keeping you wide awake and alert, as if anticipating something just beyond the horizon.

you were anticipating something, no— more likely, someone. that someone, neither your boyfriend nor your anything, he just likely is a more sinister thing, disguised as a best friend, unfortunately. sinister thing, you describe him, where a silver thread lies between you and him— a bright and bold, tale of your love, gojo satoru.

he is, my sinister thing’ you thought.

you were adrift, suspended in the air, with no destination, no specific place to call home. you existed in a state of limbo, neither firmly standing nor lying down, hovering in a liminal space. your presence was neither filled with love nor marked by the experience of being in love.

you were perpetually caught in a paradox, always existing in a state of “neither,” but never fully reaching a place of clarity or resolution. your existence was defined by an absence of definitive states or emotions, perpetually undefined and drifting, forever caught between the edges of presence and absence.

it was always waiting, waiting, and waiting.

just like how the night before, and before, and right now, waiting in your bed for him to knock— and when he does, you, mindlessly, like you're in ecstasy running a little by little in the middle of the night to open your door, without realizing there's another door you open— your heart.

stumbling, drowning in a sea of alcohol he hates, gojo satoru walks in. and you, like the idiot you are, guide him to your barely-fits-for-his-over-six-feet -ass couch, comfortably lying him there.

“careful,” you whisper through the night.

your warm hands meet with his cold ones, gripping you as if he's holding on for his dear life. you drape his body with a blanket, big enough for you to shield not only his physical form but also the emotions he holds for you, hidden beneath the warmth, hide his love for you, not that you need to know. gojo‘s blue eyes are warm, and dull as they indulge softly in the moonlight and gentle glow from your little lamp on the cover of your living room, appear soft and subdued.

you find yourself seated on the cold, hard floor, while gojo stretches out on your couch, facing you with a look of serene contentment. his handsome face is illuminated by a crooked yet mesmerizing smile, a testament to his charm even in his inebriated state. his hands, chilled and seeking, grip yours with a familiar desperation, yearning for the warmth you effortlessly provide.

this nightly ritual has become a part of your routine—gojo, drinking away his soul, stumbles through your door, his steps wavering yet purposeful. he collapses onto the couch, and you remain on the floor, the quiet observer of his vulnerable confessions. as he speaks of his love for you with a fervor that seems to swell with each passing moment, it’s as if he fears losing you with the break of dawn.

he loves like you’re the very essence of his existence, the heartbeat of his every moment. his affection is a force that shapes his world, a flame that burns eternally in his soul. to him, you are the embodiment of all his dreams and desires, the one who makes every day brighter and every night more meaningful. his love for you is not just a feeling but a profound truth that defines his very being.

when the alcohol fades and his clarity returns, he resumes his usual demeanor, leaving behind only the tender echo of his heartfelt declarations and the gentle imprint of his touch on your hands. he pretends, gojo satoru likes to pretend.

“always so beautiful,” he whispered, his smile fading as his eyes wandered over every contour of your face. he traced the delicate path of each freckle, every mole, and the subtle lines that marked the passage of time, memorizing every exquisite detail in his heart. his cold hand gently cupped your cheek, sending a chill across your skin that mingled with the warmth of his gaze, as if he were imprinting the essence of your beauty into his soul.

he draws your entwined hands closer to his chest, where his heart, in truth, has always belonged to you. from the very first moment you met, it was never his alone; it has been yours from the start. as your palm rests against his chest, you can feel the soft, steady beat of his yours heart, buried beneath his flesh—an intimate rhythm that pulses with calm and a tender, unselfish devotion.

a small smile graces your lips as you rest your chin on the couch, gazing deeply into his eyes and letting yourself be enveloped by their depth. “i’m in love with you,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with intoxicated. “so in love that i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t, as if my soul has adored you since the dawn of everything,” you listen to his heartfelt confession, witnessing the gradual collapse of his defenses, and your eyes shimmer, heart-shaped.

gojo chuckled softly, his voice thick with intoxication. “do you recall the first and last time we made love? your lips on my neck, since that day, your mouth has been nothing but heaven,” his words tumbled out in a drowsy, slurred cadence.

you, too, remember that day with crystal clarity; it is etched deeply in your mind, an indelible memory that clings to your thoughts like a cherished, haunting presence. each detail, every sensation, has become a permanent part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. the memory of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss linger, a profound and enduring echo that remains with you always.

you still can feel his touch on your skin.

“of course you don’t know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of intoxication, as his thumb traced gentle patterns across your cheek. “and i’ll gladly take the blame for that,” he continued, his words slurred with inebriation, “i-i kissed your hair while you slept in the morning,” his giggle, light and childlike, bubbled up with a carefree delight. “i wonder if you ever knew.”

you shake your head gently, a small, small smile touching your lips, just a little. you wouldn't dare to open your mouth, oh, you wouldn't dare. to speak would risk breaking the spell of his drunken state, causing him to sober up and retract the love he has so freely and vulnerably shared. the thought of him withdrawing those tender confessions and retreating into the safety of his guarded heart is a fear too profound to bear. because at that time, it's all you have, his drunkenly confession.

so you remain silent, savoring the warmth of his affection as it envelops you, clinging to this fleeting intimacy as if it were a precious secret. afraid that when the dawn’s approach looms, threatening to sweep away the ephemeral beauty of his heartfelt revelations, leaving only the ghost of his love behind.

it's a frightening, haunting, spine-chilling sensation that grips you, filling you with an aching dread, so you remain silent. because maybe, in those three am confessions are your only salvation. just like a dark mirror to cinderella’s tale, your reality is sinking down from the ceiling, swallowing you whole when he sobers up when the sun hits your cheeks warm.

“oh, god, i love you so much. . .” he whispered, his voice laden with vulnerability as he clutched your hand tightly, pressing it against his chest. “this love i feel—it terrifies me. i'm scared for the love i have for you, it seems so powerful, like it could burn me alive or utterly ruin me. even so, i know that i’ll let it be, but fuck. . . i'm so scared.” his breath was uneven and strained, each gasp revealing the depth of his fear.

his eyes, gleaming with the weight of his emotions, flickered with a poignant brilliance before finally closing. as he drifted into unconsciousness, the full embrace of the alcohol took hold, and the tender confessions of his heart were swallowed by the enveloping darkness.

you remain in quiet contemplation, letting his heartfelt words gently seep into your thoughts. you extend your arm along the edge of the couch, laying your cheek softly against it as you gaze at gojo’s tranquil, slumbering face. his lips, tender and slightly swollen, and his cheeks, flushed a soft, rosy hue reminiscent of crushed cherries from the effects of the alcohol, form a serene portrait of vulnerability.

in the gentle light, his features are softened by the peacefulness of sleep, creating a stark contrast to the emotional intensity of his earlier confessions. the calmness of his face, so vulnerable and exposed in repose, contrasts beautifully with the passionate turmoil of his words.

as you watch him, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping you both in a tender silence that honors the depth of the moment. the delicate interplay of light and shadow highlights the serene beauty of his sleep, allowing you to cherish the profound intimacy of this quiet, shared space.

when the morning comes, he'll sober up, and the alcohol will have faded from his system, washed away by the sunlight along with his love for you. he'll blame the alcohol in case he said anything foolish, and you? oh, you would find yourself blaming the moon, even the sun, because it's breath away the day for night to come, for casting hope into your soul, into your heart, and also crushing it at the same time in the harsh light of dawn. leaving you to grapple with the fragile hope that was both a blessing and a burden.

it was cruel, worse than cannibalism. you could have borne the agony of having your flesh consumed, but not the ravaging of your soul and heart, oh please, not my heart’ you would plead into the darkness as night falls. you were scared too, not because of loving gojo satoru, loving him is as natural as breathing, but because of the depth of your devotion— you are scared your devotion would turn violent. your devotion would make you believe him like a god, and he'll betray you like a man.

yet, despite the pain, you find yourself eternally awaiting the arrival of night, longing for those confessions whispered at 3:00 AM, even knowing they will leave you shattered by morning’s light. each dawn brings the same heartache, and today is no different.

you awaken to the insistent chime of your notification, your eyes fluttering open to the stark emptiness of your apartment. the couch where gojo once lay is now vacant, the space where he slept cold and unwelcoming. the blanket he used before now wrapped around you, carries no trace of his warmth. the comfort it once offered has dissipated, leaving behind only a hollow chill and the echo of his absence.

your grip tightens on your phone, the pressure biting into your hands, but it’s a mere shadow of the pain coursing through your heart. suddenly, the dam within you gives way, and a torrent of tears spills down your cheeks, cascading like a relentless river. the exhaustion of navigating gojo’s endless emotional games weighs heavily upon you, a suffocating burden that leaves you breathless.

you don't want anything, the only thing you want can't be bought with money. if i ask for your heart will you give it to me?’ you mock yourself. what a fucking loser.

“oh god. . .” you whisper, forehead touching the floor as you wailing in silence.

you feel foolish for clinging to the hope that, perhaps this time, he might remember, that he might repeat the tender words of the night before. yet, as each morning dawns with the same emptiness, your heart aches with the weary realization that your hopes have been in vain, leaving you to grapple with the sorrow of unfulfilled dreams.

the evening was settling into a serene quiet, your apartment softly illuminated by the warm glow of your lights. you were almost ready for your date, anticipation mingling with a sense of hope as you made final adjustments to your outfit. watching yourself in the mirror, you realize how dull your eyes are, losing their spark. after everything, you decided to bury your feelings beneath your flesh until only you know your love for gojo satoru.

a knock at the door disrupted your preparations, and when you opened it, gojo stood there, sober and uncharacteristically subdued. his eyes, usually brimming with playful energy, now reflected a deep, almost mournful sadness.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer just like always. he glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the subtle details of your evening preparations—the carefully chosen attire, the delicate scent of perfume, and your eyes, those bright, beautiful eyes.

you moved through your bedroom, selecting accessories and adjusting your outfit, each motion a quiet ritual in the evening’s anticipation. gojo watched from the doorway, his gaze fixed on you with a deep, almost reverent intensity. his silence spoke volumes, a contrast to the usual banter that characterized your interactions.

gojo’s voice, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability, broke the silence. “where are you going?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and hurt.

you hesitated, caught between the desire to protect both his feelings and the truth. his gaze, usually so playful and intense, now bore a raw, wounded quality. the gravity of the question hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the weight of the decision you had to make.

“i’m—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. you could see the hope flickering in his eyes, mingled with the pain of realization. you knew that this was more than just a casual question; it was a plea for understanding, for clarity amid his confusion.

he took a step closer, his usual nonchalance replaced by a genuine yearning to grasp the reality of the situation. “i just want to know,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “where you’re going. what’s tonight for you?”

you looked at him, your heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears. the room felt charged with the intensity of the moment, every detail amplified by the quiet desperation in his voice.

“i’m going out with someone,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “tonight is… it’s meant for someone else.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. gojo’s face fell, the light in his eyes dimming as he took in the truth of your plans. he nodded slowly, the understanding settling over him with a heavy sadness.

“i see,” he said quietly, a bitter edge to his tone as he took a step back, giving you space. “i didn’t realize…” the finality of his words and the desolate look on his face were almost too much to bear.

you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but before you could answer, his gaze wandered over you with a mixture of admiration and sadness. “you look…” he started, his voice faltering slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “you look really beautiful tonight.”

his eyes roamed over your outfit, the careful details you had chosen, and the way the light caught in your hair. there was a softness in his gaze that spoke of more than just physical appreciation— it was as though he was trying to hold onto every fleeting moment, every detail of this evening as if to etch it into his memory.

“you always look beautiful,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “but tonight. . .. tonight it’s different. you’re. . . breathtaking.” the sincerity in his words was palpable, mingling with the unspoken sadness in his eyes. he didn’t move, didn’t retreat from the moment. instead, he stood there, quietly observing, letting his admiration and affection fill the space between you.

“i didn’t mean to intrude,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving you. “i just wanted to see you one more time. before you go.”

the room felt heavy with the weight of his gaze, the emotional intensity of his words. you could feel the ache in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and longing, as he took in every detail of your appearance. the compliment, so genuine and heartfelt, seemed to hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the affection he still held for you.

“it's okay,” you nodded softly, gazing at him from your mirror with a little smile, kissing your lips. the date was meant to be an escape, a chance to move forward, but it felt like an endurance exercise.

your date was polite and engaged in conversation, but there was an undeniable disconnect. every word spoken seemed to drift past you, a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts that consumed your mind. the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the casual chatter all felt hollow, lacking the vibrancy you had hoped for.

as the evening progressed, the sparkle of the city lights and the charm of the venue did little to lift the weight on your shoulders. the conversations felt superficial, the moments fleeting and unremarkable. you smiled and nodded in response, but your thoughts were miles away, tangled in the memories and the lingering presence of gojo.

you couldn’t help but replay the images of that earlier moment—gojo’s earnest eyes, the softness of his compliments, and the way his gaze had followed you with such unspoken longing. his presence had imprinted on your heart so deeply that everything else seemed to fade in comparison. the way he had watched you, the tenderness in his voice, and the painful silence after he had left all resurfaced in your mind, casting a shadow over every interaction of the evening.

the date dragged on, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. you forced yourself to remain engaged, but the thought of gojo’s unspoken words and the gentle way he had looked at you overshadowed everything. you were caught in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to escape the grip of your own emotions.

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the evening. your mind was still heavy with the weight of the date's emptiness, and the city lights seemed dimmer as you walked towards your car.

just outside, by the entrance of the restaurant, you noticed a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost. gojo stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the crowd with a determined focus. as your gaze met his, his face softened, revealing a mix of relief and something deeper.

there you are, beautiful, mellow you. walking alone looking pretty in that silk dress that you should be wearing for him, not the other man, him. seeing you so breathtakingly beautiful makes gojo satoru want to crash into every piece of you, and fuck, he swears to god, that's how stars are born.

“hey,” he said softly, pushing himself off the lamppost and walking towards you. the usually playful tone in his voice was replaced by a sincere warmth. “i thought i might catch you before you left.” you stopped in your tracks, a flutter of surprise and emotion rising within you. “satoru, what are you doing here?”

you're in front of him, eyes glimmering under the lamppost and the moon. gojo wants to run, to bury himself under the ground, or just tell you to stop looking at him with those eyes. stop touching me with your eyes’ he thought.

“i-i. . .”

even so, his eyes never leave yours, shaken as he tries to swim into your orbs. how its color slightly changes under the lamppost makes it even harder for gojo to speak as if the ground is a new language for him, and suddenly, he forgets everything he knows about gravity.

“please love me. .” he whispered, throat dry.

for a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes widened in astonishment. your heart is pounded with a frantic rhythm, faster than the fall of distant stars, yearning to escape its confines and find its way into gojo’s hands. it ached with a longing so intense that it felt almost unbearable.

the pain of desiring something so profoundly—something you’ve never truly known—made you question why your heart should yearn for a home it has never experienced. yet, despite never having been there, it cried out with an ineffable need to be held by him.

it was always his and never been yours since day one, but he already holds onto your soul with an unrelenting grip and your heart— your only refuge, is all you ever had to keep living. you can't live your life if all you ever had is just merely flesh and bone.

“satoru, are you drunk?”

“no—” he shook his head, fast enough to hold both your hands and bring them closer against his chest, where his heart was beating faster, also begging to be handed to you. “i'm in love with you, y/n. i'm sorry i always pretend like i don't remember in the morning, but please. . . i don't dare to, maybe if i love you less it would be easier for me to talk, but fuck—”

he paused for a moment, and in that suspended breath, your only fear was the possibility of him retracting his heartfelt confession. the weight of his unspoken words hung in the air, and you found yourself dreading the loss of such a precious revelation. the thought of him pulling back, of his feelings fading into silence, was the only shadow that cast fear over your heart.

so you shook your head, “no, don't stop,” you plea.

gojo swallows his pride, he feels pathetic. but he would bear the life long of feeling pathetic if it is meant to have your eyes on him, to have your skins and bones knit with his then so be it. “i love you—oh god, i fucking love you, in the purest, chaste, most victorian sense,” he says, laughing softly. “even a mere glimpse of your ankle might be enough to drive me mad.” you can’t help but chuckle along with him.

his hands enveloped yours with a desperate intensity, holding them as if they were the very essence of his longing. “i love you,” he breathed softly, his voice mingling with the whisper of the night breeze. “i want every single one of your tomorrows.”

he guided your hands closer to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your wrist, his touch both tender and reverent. his eyes locked with yours, revealing a depth of emotion that seemed to illuminate the darkness around you. the moment his lips left your skin, the faintest trace of coldness lingered, as if the warmth of his affection had left an indelible mark.

with a gentle but purposeful motion, his hands slid to your waist, drawing you nearer. his touch was both firm and delicate as he turned you around, guiding you until your back was nearly pressed against the lamppost. the soft glow of the streetlight bathed you both in a halo of light, casting long shadows and highlighting the closeness of your bodies.

in this intimate cocoon, the world seemed to fade away. the chill of the night, the warmth of his breath, and the quiet intensity of his gaze created a fragile moment of connection. his presence enveloped you, a promise whispered in the night air, as if he were claiming every future moment with you, even as the night deepened around you.

“please. . ..” he beg.

he leaned in, his face inches from yours, until his lips lightly brushed against your own. “please, love me,” he whispered once more, his voice tender and pleading. his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

the proximity of his lips, the softness of his words, and the gentle warmth of his breath all combined to create a moment of intimate vulnerability. his plea hung in the air, laden with the depth of his emotions, as he sought to bridge the gap between your hearts.

as the world around you seemed to slow, gojo’s gaze lingered on your lips with an intensity that made your heart race. his fingers, still resting on your waist, drew you even closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. the soft glow of the streetlight cast a gentle halo around the two of you, accentuating the intimacy of the moment.

with a deliberate tenderness, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation built like a quiet storm as his lips inched closer, brushing against yours with a delicate, almost reverent touch. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of deep longing and unspoken desires.

his lips moved with a slow, deliberate grace as if savoring every second of the connection. the initial softness gave way to a deeper intensity, his kiss growing more passionate as he pulled you even closer. the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his lips pressed firmly against yours. his hands cradled your face, his touch gentle yet insistent, guiding the kiss with a blend of affection and need.

the warmth of his kiss seemed to infuse every part of you, a melding of hearts and souls that transcended words. when he finally pulled away, his eyes still locked onto yours, there was a look of profound contentment and vulnerability. the kiss lingered in the air between you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the fragile, beautiful connection that bound you together.

as you slowly pull away from the kiss, your lips linger near his, you meet his gaze with a fierce resolve. “if you ever mock me or play with me,” you say, your voice steady yet charged with intensity, “i swear to god, satoru, i’ll fucking hunt you down.” the words hang between you, your breath mingling with his, a silent promise of the depth of your commitment.

gojo’s eyes spark with a playful glint as he hears your words. with a mischievous smile, he leans in, giving your lips a series of soft, teasing pecks. “i won’t,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of sincerity. “i promise.” his playful demeanor contrasts with the intensity of your threat, yet his gentle touches and warm gaze convey a deeper assurance.

[gingerteawrites]

Early relationship with Geto: Where you discover that Suguru is a biker

A/N: I saw this one fanart on Insta with Geto as a biker, and now I cannot get this thought out of my brain. It’s just so yummy to think about, so enjoy the brainrot with me with these series of disorganized thoughts. I have been so busy with work these past few weeks, so apologies for my absence. Part 2 here.

Content: Not jujutsu universe, college students Geto x reader, biker Geto, fluff, not proofread

You and Geto had met on campus during a group study session, where he joined through a mutual friend. You had always thought he was the type to ignore people and not care about his classes at all, given the number of times he skipped. He seemed like the picture of an edge lord, and you had never cared to initiate contact.

Despite these assumptions, you came to know his kindness, which shone in the small ways he showed up for others. Like saving you a seat in the busy library, or remembering things mentioned in passing. He would offer to walk you home at the end of late night study sessions, and you soon grew close, eventually leading to a budding romance.

It was nearing the end of the semester, and Geto was in your dorm, sitting in front of your legs at the edge of your bed as you brushed his ebony hair. He was convinced you lived vicariously through taking care of his hair, developing a fascination with trying all sorts of regimens on it. He did not mind though, always appreciative of your soft touch and noting how much shinier his locks had become.

On this evening, you were finally able to convince him to watch the fast and furious series with you, appalled when he mentioned that he had never seen any of the films.

“Don’t you care about family?”, you asked, trying on your best Dom Torreto impersonation, to which your boyfriend responded with an amused chuckle.

You basically thrummed with excitement when starting Tokyo drift, the third one in your little movie marathon. Your fingers absently weaved through Suguru’s hair, finding yourself giving him pigtails while his head rested against your thigh. His whole body lay lax against you, but his dark eyes focused on the nth car chase that unfolded before you on the screen.

He had not spoken much throughout, only sparing a few comments here and there and insisting that he was enjoying himself when you paused to ask him if he wanted to stop. But you quickly noticed Geto getting more active and making more frequent comments when the motorcycles joined the drift game.

At the end of the movie, you sat up to stretch, and he moved from his position to sit on your bed. “You seem to know a lot about bikes!” You remarked after a yawn “Have you thought about getting one? I think it would suit you” You said, smiling as you sat beside him and nudged his knee

He gave a small chuckle, rolling his neck before fixing his gaze on you “What if I told you I did?”

Your eyes went comically wide, mouth agape at the suggestion “Wait for real??”

He replied with an easy smile, hand coming up to pinch your nose “Maybe I’ll let you ride someday”

“What do you mean, maybe??” you asked, offended.

After teasing you a bit more, Geto obliged to your requests. It was a Saturday afternoon when you finally saw his bike in person. It’s glossy black and purple exterior shone under the setting sun, sleekness reminding you of its owner, who had tied his hair into a bun and slipped on his helmet. He climbed on the vehicle, leaning against its sturdy frame and you had to make a physical effort to not just stare at him with your mouth open, eyes traveling along the curve of his body. God, he was made for this.

You were shaken out of your daze when he beckoned you closer, putting on his spare helmet on your head and inviting you to sit behind him. “Remember, follow my lead and no sudden movements.”

It took you a bit to adjust to a comfortable position, but you eventually settled against him. You saw his eyes crinkle in a smile, before he flipped down his visor, revving the motorcycle and gently taking off.

He took you through the city streets first, slowly skirting past rows of houses and stores, before branching off into the scenic route through the local park where he picked up the pace.

The setting sun, your chest pressed against his back and the roaring of the engine are etched into your mind, feeling as though you were piercing the wind, traveling in a capsule of your own. The roads were empty, and Suguru’s hand often came to squeeze your thigh in reassurance, making sure you were at ease.

Your first time on his bike was an exhilarating experience, and transformed you into an enthusiast, as you threw yourself into understanding the world of motorbikes.

Suguru grew accustomed to your heat leaning on him too quickly, and finds himself missing your gentle weight anytime he rides without you.

This leads to him finding not-so-subtle ways to now invite you to ride with him more often “Since we’re off this weekend, I was thinking of going on a little day trip?” "How about we take the bike to go there?" "Do you need a ride?"

And his attempts never fail to bring a smile to your face, lips pulled wide with delight as you delivered a kiss to his cheek “Of course, Suguru.”

Biker boyfriend Geto is not cold, toxic and distant. How could he ever be? Not when you smile at him like you are the sun itself, or with the way you make sure he eats and visit his dorm with snacks when you notice him skip classes because of a bad day. He is the softest around you, and prioritizes your comfort and safety above all else. Caring is his way of loving you.

Let me know what you think, I love hearing everyone's brainrot :)

[justasecretflower]

"Came home drunk and got too excited to see my ghost bf"

this is based off of a fanart that was based off of a Tumblr post... I can't find the fanart sadly but here's what it's based off

I had no idea how I got my clumsy legs all the way to my apartment, but lo and behold I made it, and now was fidgeting for my key. Typically, this would be an easy task, but the alcohol clouded my brain and and somehow my keys jingling was so funny that I had completely skipped over my apartment key twice before landing on the right one. I messily aim for the lock, missing once then getting it in the second time and turning the knob along with the key. I hear an excited giggle followed by some frantic shuffling as I open the door, mr. crawling. The very thought of my very cute, massive, 8ft tall bf giggling and excited to see me got me giggly and flushed, my eyes immediately landing on him once I fully got through the door.

His head lifts and he lets out a high giggle, matching mine as I lean down. Was that a good idea? No. Because I'm now falling and smashing my lips to his face, my body weight crashing down on mr. crawling yet his only reaction is to giggle and wrap his huge arms around me. I don't think any fun I had tonight with my friends could measure up to how I felt rolling around on the ground leaving maroon kiss marks on my boyfriend. Laughing loudly and smooshing my lips on his face, then his jaw, then his mouth, then his nose. He yelled something I couldn't quite understand, but it seemed to be repetitive and he said it after every time I pulled away, like he was asking me to press my lips on him again. After a couple minutes of this tiring task. (tiring for me because I've been exhausted since before I returned home) I let myself fall down on the floor and my eyes close abruptly.

As I start to drift mr. crawling sits up and looks at me, I can't see his eyes, but I imagine concern. His gaze is strong, so strong I don't need my eyes to just feel it on me. "bed" I mumble, pointing weakly to the bedroom. Mr. Crawling lets out a small sigh and to my surprise, he lifted me up. His hands were cold and made my eyes flutter open a bit, only to be comforted by the pad of his thumb stroking my leg. Despite how big and scary looking Mr. Crawling looked, he was oh so careful and gentle with me.

He sets me on the bed so softly it’s like he thinks I’ll break, and then very slowly also crawls into bed, his arms snaking around my torso and his head under my shirt while he nuzzles his head into my bare stomach.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way..

Homicipher reqs open

[ersatz-ostrich]

A Sweet Discovery

Connor & gn!reader, RK900 & gn! reader

help why is the gif ENORMOUS

Analyzing… Analysis complete. Conclusion: delicious. Connor and Nines try jam for the first time.

[A/N]: WELCOME BACK EVERYBODY! I BRING CONTENT

After seeing fanart on Pinterest of tiny Connor and tiny RK900 trying jam for the first time, I had an idea that really spiraled out of control (if the word count says anything lol). Although the word 'jam' only appears 45 (!) times during this fic, I swear I've typed it out so many times that the word's become surreal to me. Like, jam, jam, jam...um, what does 'jam' mean again? Anyways...

read here on ao3

You stirred the bubbling pot on your stove, humming pleasantly. It was a lazy Saturday in the peak of summer, and you had decided to spend your free time trying your hand at canning what was abundant and in season instead of rotting on your couch or in bed. Various ingredients and equipment were strewn about your kitchen—a colander, a large jar of sugar from the pantry, cutting boards, and boxes on boxes of fruit. Alongside your pot of jam-to-be, you had set another pot of water to boil with glass jars in it to sterilize them. 

You stirred away, mind drifting, until you were pulled back to the present by the chime of your doorbell. Your head turned to the screen set up on your counter, where you saw through the footage of your doorbell camera two androids and a large Saint Bernard waiting politely at your front door. Grinning, you departed from your post at the stove momentarily to hit the button to let them in. 

“Come on in, you guys!” You called out from the kitchen. The lock clicked, and Connor let himself in, followed by Nines.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Connor piped up first. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I wanted to do something useful with my time off, so I decided to make some jam.�� In a most Connor-like fashion, he tilted his head, curious. While Sumo settled contentedly on the carpet in your living room, you beckoned the androids into your sunny kitchen. “So, what brings you two here?”

“We were walking Sumo and passed by your home.” While you only lived a few blocks from Hank, you found it interesting that they had chosen to show up unannounced. “I thought we should pay you a visit.” He gave you an easy half-smile, something that had become more and more common as he grew accustomed to deviancy.

“Are we intruding? If so, we’ll be on our way—”

“Nonsense, Nines, of course you can stay,” You waved him off as you agitated the bubbling jam on the stove, which was coming along nicely. “I’m not doing anything particularly important right now. Have you two ever had jam?”

“Jam, as in…fruit cooked and preserved in sugar and other additives?” Nines inquired. “I’m afraid not, Detective. We were designed to analyze samples of organic matter from crime scenes. Jam, so far, has not been one of those samples.” You chuckled at his response. 

“Well, would you like to?” You pulled the glass jars out of the pot of water and onto an awaiting towel with a pair of tongs, all while stirring your jam. “I’ve got some blueberry jam in those jars on the kitchen table.” You reached for your utensil drawer and handed a spoon to Connor. “Try it.”

Connor took the spoon and eyed the jars on your kitchen table, LED spinning. Taking the lid off of one, he spooned out a generous dollop of the dark purple substance, which stuck to the spoon and slid off lazily when he put the spoon in his mouth. 

Silence passed over you and the androids; the only sounds in the kitchen were the burbling of your jam and your spoon scraping against the walls of the pot as you watched Connor’s LED glow a bright, whirling yellow. 

The moment the jam hit Connor’s sensor-studded tongue, his processors were flooded with input. He dropped the hand holding the spoon, and the spoon fell out of his mouth and clattered onto the table. Flavor, or as much flavor as a deviant android like himself could sense, bloomed on his tongue and sent pleasant sparks coursing through his artificial nervous system. The data came flowing in as his LED continued to spin; he detected a delicious bouquet of volatile aromatic compounds and acids, no doubt from the fruit, and a torrent of carbohydrates. If he had possessed any human taste buds, he would have registered the taste of the jam as tart, sweet, and delicious.

With astonishing speed, Connor snatched up the spoon from the table, scooped out a helping of the jam, and unceremoniously shoved it into his successor’s mouth.

Nines’s LED flashed red as Connor insistently jammed ; then yellow as he processed the data he was receiving from analyzing the jam in his mouth; and then, finally, pulsing blue as he began to appreciate the jam’s agreeable taste. 

“It is…interesting.” Nines spoke when Connor finally removed the spoon from his mouth. “I have never analyzed anything like it before.”

“Yes, but how is it?” You asked. “Do you like it?”

“I cannot determine whether or not I like the data I receive from analyzing samples, Detective.” Nines cracked a small smile. “But…I would say that the sensory stimulation I received from tasting the jam was pleasant.” Upon hearing his comments, you beamed, glad to have been given the RK900 seal of approval. 

“It sounds to me like you like the jam, Nines! I’m glad.” You smiled softly as the androids chatted over the kitchen table. It was so gratifying to help androids like Connor and Nines experience things both mundane and complex without the restraints of their Cyberlife programming. Something so simple as blueberry jam, you realized, could brighten their day.

“Are these blueberries from upstate? Blueberries are currently in season in Michigan.” Connor inquired.

“Yeah, I got them from Rose’s Farm outside of Detroit. They let you pick your own blueberries and the price is pretty great for the freshness and quantity you get.” You knocked your spoon against the rim of the pot to let your now-finished jam drip off and transferred your pot onto a square pot holder to cool. Connor raised his brows upon hearing you mention the farm owned by Rose Chapman, whom he knew to have harbored deviants leading up to the day the androids had won their freedom. He had first learned of the woman from a group of androids from Jericho, not long after he had become a deviant.

“I see,” Connor mused. “Is this your first time making jam?” 

“No, it isn’t. I definitely wasn’t this good the first time around.” You laughed sheepishly, taking some jars off of your kitchen counter and presenting them to the two androids. “See, this one’s started fermenting. I noticed when I opened the jar today and it smelled off. I think I didn’t sterilize my jar right or something,” You explained. Connor dipped a spoon in the deep red jam. After a brief analysis, he determined the failed jam to be contaminated strawberry preserves.

“You are correct. I detect trace amounts of alcohol in this sample from fermentation,” He replied after a second. “I also detect a certain strain of mold. These preserves should not be consumed.”

“Yeah, I’m going to dump it. Try this one,” You held out another jar of strawberry preserves. Visually, Connor couldn’t tell what was wrong with it at first until he stuck the spoon in the jar and realized that the consistency was too thick.

“The sugars in these preserves have caramelized,” Connor concluded. 

“I kinda…screwed up and burned my preserves.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nines reaching into the utensil drawer for a spoon to sample the contaminated strawberry preserves.

“If you would not like to waste these strawberry preserves, Detective, I could take it. Androids are not affected by mold contamination or fermentation.” He began.

“You sure? That stuff’s gonna grow some pretty gross mold colonies after some time,” You responded, wrinkling your nose. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you take some of the jam I just made? I have so much jam in my house right now and I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of it.” You screwed the lid on the blueberry jam Connor and Nines had tried and pressed it into the RK900’s hands. “Oh, and—” You hurried back to the kitchen counter to pour out some of the jam you just made into one of the sterilized jars you had left to dry. “—take this, too. It’s raspberry jam.” You handed the warm glass jar to Connor, who accepted it enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Detective. I—we appreciate your generosity.” Nines replied, pleased.

“I can’t wait to try your raspberry jam. I’m sure it’s delicious,” Connor added.

“You’re too kind, both of you.” You laughed cheerily, walking with them into the living room where Sumo raised his head to greet you. “I’ve got plenty more fruit to preserve, but I don’t want you two to keep Hank waiting for too long.” With Sumo’s leash in one hand and a jar of jam cradled carefully in the other, Connor waved goodbye and stepped out the front door. Nines followed suit, nodding politely at you.

“Thank you for showing us something new, Detective. Thanks to you, I feel like I have expanded my horizons greatly since becoming deviant.”

“It was my pleasure, Nines. You’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“Hey, whatcha eatin’, Tin Can?” 

“Blueberry jam, Detective.” Spoon still hanging out of his mouth, Nines offered the jar to Gavin. “My filtration system can only handle about a spoonful every now and then, but I enjoy the taste. Would you like some?” The abrasive detective inspected the jar with a critical eye.

“Fuck, who put you on human food?”

“Detective L/N.” Nines answered placidly. “L/N is very good at making jams.”

“Shit, is that where Connor got his jar of jam from?” asked Hank, stopping by Nines and Gavin’s desks on his way back from the breakroom. “The one he keeps on his desk alongside a spoon. I catch him eating spoonfuls of the jam from time to time.” Nines nodded.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Gavin muttered. “Androids eating jam. What’s next? Donuts?”

While Gavin’s speculations did not become a reality, Connor and Nines continued to enjoy the simple pleasure of homemade jam. It wasn’t long until their android brother Sixty discovered it, and he responded with equal enthusiasm for the stuff.

Noticing their newfound habit of shoving jam-coated spoons in their mouths during lulls in work at the precinct or after visiting particularly gruesome crime scenes, you continued bringing them different flavors of jams and preserves for them to try. What had been your way of killing time at home had become a full-fledged hobby.

“They’re my android guinea pigs,” You joked to anyone who asked. “They’re the first in line every time I experiment with a new recipe.”

Finally, after Connor had turned up on your doorstep to return emptied-out jars for the umpteenth time, you decided to teach him how to make his own jam. 

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to make jam for you guys anymore. I just think you’d like it if you tried making it yourselves,” You explained. “I’m sure you can download some executable that magically gives you culinary skills through the power of software, but you’ll still need practice, right?” 

“I’m not sure, Detective—” Connor replied uneasily. “I was not built for domestic work, but I will try.” He had elected to wear an apron as you walked him through the process, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Connor standing in your kitchen wearing a red gingham apron over his impeccably neat clothes. He was eager to learn, a trait you had always liked. What he had once called “Cyberlife’s social integration module” had made him adaptable, open-minded, and a great listener. 

You had invited Connor into your kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning, much like the morning Connor and Nines had first tasted blueberry jam. By noon, he was strolling back to Hank’s place with a spring in his step, carrying a box that rattled with glass jars of his own preserves. 

Making jam soon became Connor’s new favorite hobby. He enjoyed the endless variation in recipes and tasting things other than forensic evidence. You started seeing jars of jam mysteriously popping up on your desk every couple of weeks. When you asked Hank if Connor was the jam fairy behind the gifts on your desk, the lieutenant feigned ignorance.

Connor was also able to branch out into the android community of Detroit. He began to frequent the android-populated New Jericho neighborhood that had formed after the government acknowledged androids’ personhood, where he met current and former employees of the Detroit Urban Farms project and other androids with green thumbs. They exchanged the produce they grew for the preserves he made, which they sold at a farmer’s market downtown. Connor declined a share of the profits, saying that he wanted to support the burgeoning android community with his hobby. He was building a life for himself that he had never expected to have when he was a machine, and that was enough for him.

As for Nines, his newfound sweet tooth led him to discover a different interest. On his days off, he liked to explore the city in which he was assembled. On one of his walks, he discovered a candy shop on a street corner a few paces away from Bellini Paints. There, he was introduced to the delights of various different candies. Soon enough, he couldn’t go anywhere without stashing a fistful of lemon drops or hard caramels in the pocket of his raincoat or suit jacket. His coworkers—especially his partner Gavin—found the sight of Cyberlife’s most advanced investigator android and (former) killing machine licking contentedly at a heart-shaped lollipop jarring, intimidating even. However, his penchant for hard candy endeared him to the children he encountered in his line of work—scared, stressed children who would have previously cowered away from his imposing figure and piercing stare. 

One time, Officer Miller had brought in a sandy-haired, freckled five-year-old boy who had been separated from his parents while attending a large parade. The child had wandered the streets for the whole day. The officer had found him sitting by himself on a park bench, teary-eyed. 

Upon taking him back to the precinct, the child was inconsolable, crying until his tears dried up and continuing to tremble and whimper softly for his parents. Nines, who had just returned from the scene of a crime, noticed the boy sitting on a bench across the hall from the bullpen and being attended to by an ST300-model receptionist. Nines locked eyes with the android.

How is he doing? The ST300’s LED flickered yellow as she responded,

Not very well. He hasn’t stopped crying.

I’ll see what I can do.

Nines crouched down to reach the gaze of the boy’s stormy, downcast eyes. He produced a lollipop from a pocket in his jacket, unwrapped it, and offered it to the boy.

“It’s blueberry-flavored,” Said Nines. “Blueberry is my favorite flavor. What’s yours?” The boy sniffled and jammed the treat in his mouth.

“O-orange.”

“That’s a good choice,” Nines replied with a smile. His usually stoic, frosty expression softened. “I have a brother who makes the best orange marmalade ever.” He took a seat beside the boy. 

“I a-always wanted a b-brother,” The boy hiccuped. “B-but Mommy and Daddy are g-gone, a-and—” His hiccups turned into sobs. Nines let the boy lean on him, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Nines whispered. “You’re safe here. Everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine. We’ll find your parents, I promise.” Even if it takes Cyberlife’s most advanced android to track them down. He continued murmuring soothing affirmations to the boy, whose shoulders stopped shuddering as his sobs quieted.

We just confirmed that the boy matches the description of a missing child that was reported earlier today. His parents are on the way, Connor silently informed Nines from his desk.

Understood , Nines replied. He and the child lapsed into a comfortable silence as the misty-eyed boy continued to suck on the lollipop.

“What’s your name?” Nines asked the boy.

“Luke.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke. My brothers call me Nines.” 

“That’s a weird name,” Luke blurted.

“My coworker, Gavin, thinks so, too.” Nines replied, side-eyeing the detective, who was idling in the bullpen. “You know, Luke, brothers are a handful. I have two—I’m the youngest.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re always up to something and I have to stop them from getting themselves into trouble.” Nines chuckled softly as some of his android predecessors’ antics came to mind. “My big brother, Connor, is the one who makes jam. Tell you what, I bet I can get him to make orange marmalade just for you.”

“Yeah?” Luke raised his gaze to meet Nines’s.

“A big jar, all for you.” A wide grin broke onto Luke’s cherubic face.

“I love orange mara-” Luke frowned. “Marmam-”

“Marmalade,”

“I love orange marmalade!” Luke giggled.

From the bullpen, Tina and the other officers craned their necks from where they were stationed at their desks to get a good view of Nines giving a rare, bright smile as the boy clung to his arm.

“Who knew Mr. Thirium-Pump-of-Ice was so good with kids?” Tina whispered to Gavin.

“I dunno,” Gavin whispered back. “If he didn’t act like such a stuck-up prick all the time, maybe more people would approach him. Kids included.”

“The RK900 is equipped with a social module similar to that of the RK800 line,” Connor piped up. “His software is capable of adapting to the behavior of children, including consol-”

“We get it, Connor!” Gavin whisper-shouted. 

“I think it’s kinda cute,” You offered. “Even though he’s deviant, Nines doesn’t show us this side of him often.” 

“Aww. Maybe Nines is a softy after all.” Ben joked. 

“Ooh, don’t let him hear that, Collins. You’re ruining his street cred.” Gavin retorted.

While the officers watched on, as discreet as a zebra at a horse show, Luke willingly climbed into Nines’s arms and let him carry him out to the precinct lobby where his parents were waiting anxiously. Just before he exited the bullpen, Nines cast a glance at Connor, LED flashing yellow. Connor’s LED flashed likewise.

“Connor? What’s up?” You asked as the RK800 stared off into the distance. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I can get some good oranges, would you, Detective?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end or something idk~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: I initially wanted Nines or Sixty to discover honey/take up beekeeping after discovering jam/fruit preserves...but then I realized that bees are extinct in Detroit: Become Human :( hope you guys liked this little tangent! until next time x

let me know if you want to be part of my general taglist!

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @just-my-latest-hyperfixation! They've written 120 fics in the Stranger Things fandom, with all of them being in the Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation:

Hic sunt dracones

Someone who cares

Updraft

(You got me) in the palm of your hand

Just add water

Hype. My love. The girl with the dragon AU. I could not be more obsessed with Hype’s writing. I wasn’t much of a fantasy girlie growing up, or even reading fic in other fandoms, but something about the way she writes dragon fucking really sold me. Even when she isn’t writing some type of magical fantasy world, she’s writing intricate details about these characters we all love so much, and giving them stories that make them seem so interesting. She’s my number one hype girl when I run events, always participates even when she’s busy writing novels for the bang or after the bang. I’m so lucky to have been able to meet her and have her as a friend. We’re all lucky to have her in this fandom. Love youuuuuu ♥️ -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Because those two dumbheads came crashing into my brain and flipped a switch that I had never expected to get flipped again. Before S4, I hadn’t written fiction in over fifteen years and I had never posted any of my works, anywhere. I saw my first Steddie fanart on Instagram and I thought to myself, “Huh, that is neat. Let’s check out AO3.” And I did. And I fell down a rabbit hole of epic proportions. There were plot bunnies living in that hole. And I had been there, before, over the years, and every time I had found excuses to not write my ideas down. Except, this time, the fuckers were relentless. And so, one day, I sat down on my lunch break, and I bashed out the first 1.5k words of what would become “Someone who cares”. The next day, I sat down and wrote 1k more. And more the day after that. That was almost exactly two years ago, and there hasn’t been a day since where I haven’t written at least a few sentences. I’ve recently cracked 500k words published on AO3, all Steddie, and it sure as hell doesn’t like I’ll be stopping any time soon. I never want it to stop, tbh.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love when they are completely feral and unwell over each other. Give me those acts of undying devotion, give me that possessive sex, give me the jealousy and the drama. (But also give me that happy ending, most of the time. I will read a good dark fic, every now and then, but most of the time, I’m a happy ending sorta gal.) Bonus points if they snark and bicker like an old married couple while being also completely and irrevocably gone for each other.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

First and foremost, I think it’s safe to say that I love writing AUs (mermaids and dragons and demons, oh my …). There’s just something to sticking these boys in the wildest of scenarios and trying to figure out how they’d behave, and what it would take to make them fall in love (because they always fall in love, in every universe).  Another thing I frequently find myself drifting towards is the Found Family trope. Both of our boys are canonically depicted as having strained relationships with their biological parents, and I love exploring that and making them find safety and trust and a sense of home outside of that “traditional” idea of family - with each other, with the kids, with Wayne. There’s so many ways of exploring this trope, and I think that is beautiful. 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

See, that is impossible to answer because there’s just thousands of them out there, and so many amazing ones that deserve all the love! No way I can narrow it down to just one. Here’s a few that I constantly find myself thinking of and that I keep recommending to friends: - Money, power, glory by @strangerthings1975 - one of the first ones I read and that got me hooked on the pairing - @wynnyfryd ’s Yogi!Steve series - delightfully filthy, delightfully funny, and one of the best ADHD!Eddie voices I’ve read out there - Sugar, we’re going down by @thefreakandthehair - everything lex writes sucks me right in tbh. She just has a great way with language, and how she portrays the boys is so lovely.  - @eyeofshinigami’s a/b/o series- lovely, in-character exploration of omega!Eddie and alpha!Steve and their relationship through its various stages. This is what inspired me to write my own a/b/o fic! 

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I can never reliably say what tropes or topics I’m going to explore beyond the projects I’m currently working on, because the plot bunnies do what they want. No way of knowing where they’ll take me next, so I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride.

What is your writing process like?

I’m probably one of the most notorious plotters I know. Before I start writing, I need to have an idea of what’s supposed to happen in the story and where it’s going, or I’ll give myself massive anxiety. Almost all of my multi-chapter fics have an outline doc. (The only exceptions so far have been “Just add water” and “Whatever you want it to be”, and those were originally planned as one-shots and spiraled out of control.) The outline doc is my red thread that contains the story’s basic premise, an overview of the key characters and their roles, and outlines of the different chapters broken down into bullet points. Those are not set in stone. I frequently tweak details as I go (change the location of a scene, insert an extra Steddie or Stobin-centric scene if I feel they need more screen time, switch important revelations or plot points to a different chapter), but the outline document is my blueprint that ensures I know what I’m doing and how to get from point A to point B. I write chronologically, in the order laid down in the outline doc, and my first draft is actually pretty close to the version that ends up getting posted. I usually check for SPAG, tweak a sentence here and there, and that is it. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I think the most noticeable one would be that I have a major case of wordy bitch syndrome. When doing chaptered fics, my finished word count always ends up higher than my initial estimate. When writing things with a word count cap, such as drabbles or microfics, I always, always, ALWAYS need to manically trim my first draft. One of the main things I do when editing is deleting superficial descriptors. (You don’t need three adjectives to describe the same action, Hype, you really do not!!!)

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Most of the time, I prefer posting my chapters as I finish them, because I thrive on that immediate feedback. Seeing my readers’ reactions and getting to experience the story with them as I write is a lovely feeling.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I think it's a tie between “Someone who cares” and “Hic sunt dracones”, which are both very special to me for very different reasons.  “Someone who cares” was the fic that started it all. The first thing I wrote after my 15-year hiatus. The first fic I finished. The first fic I shared. This fandom has made my life a lot brighter and brought me close to so many amazing people, and it all began here. “Hic sunt dracones” is the one that has exceeded all of my wildest expectations. Everything I dreamed of but never thought possible when I first started sharing my stories, this one has achieved. It has sparked incredible fandom friendships for me. It has made rec lists. It has fanart. (The info may or may not be out already when this posts, but I've been reliably informed that someone is currently BOOKBINDING it. 😱) I just continue to be floored and humbled by the reactions to this fic!

How did you get the idea for Just add water?

I crowd-sourced it! I had just hit 250 followers on tumblr, and to celebrate, I did a round of polls to let my followers pick a concept for my next fic. AU or canon-adjacent? What kind of AU? Who was supposed to be the mer-dude? Where should the fic be set? In the end, I had a mermaid AU with mer!Steve and human!Eddie, set at Lovers’ Lake and one scene as well as two dialog prompts to include. It was heaps of fun and a bit surprising watching the poll results roll in, and I love the fic that came out of it (even though it spiraled from the originally intended one-shot and ended up being five chapters and over 20k long 🤣). 

When writing Updraft, what was something you didn’t expect?

I definitely didn’t expect for Steve to come forward and admit he was very aware of Eddie’s history and that he’d basically had a crush on him for the past four years. I did not plan that part at all, it just sort of snuck up on me, and suddenly he’d said it and I was like “damn, that’s good, we’re keeping that in.” That’s what I mean when I say that, no matter how much planning you do, they just have a mind of their own sometimes. I love surprising myself like that!

What inspired Updraft?

When I was brainstorming ideas for the Steddie Big Bang 2023, I jotted down a little bullet point that said “Something steampunk bc steampunk is cool” and that was basically it! 😂 I just love the entire steampunk aesthetic, and I always wanna give artists something image-heavy that they can really go to town on for a collab. (And let’s be honest, somebody needed to put Steve in a tophat. It had to be done.)  The idea didn’t make the final cut for the 2023 Big Bang, but I sort of kept rotating it in my brain for the next twelve months, and then decided to go with it for the 2024 round, and was lucky enough to be claimed by @cuips-not-cute, who really nailed the aesthetic I was going for with their artwork! ⚙️🎩❤️

What was your favorite part to write from (You got me) in the palm of your hand?

The sex scene in the van. Definitely one of the sweetest, softest smut scenes I’ve written to date. Closely followed by the finale in front of Eddie’s tent, with Steve in full costume, trying to struggle his way through that over-the-top script that Dustin wrote for him. 😂

How do/did you feel writing Someone who cares?

I mainly felt very confused with myself, because I hadn’t written ANY fiction in forever, and here I was, with that novel-length beast just pouring out of me one word at a time. I also second-guessed myself a lot. Was my English good enough? Wasn’t I writing everyone horribly OOC? What if nobody liked it? I think I’ve rarely felt as nervous as I did on the day I hit that Post button on chapter 1. I couldn’t believe I actually did that, but today I’m so proud of myself and very happy I took that leap. 

What was the most difficult part of writing Hic sunt dracones?

The damn middle part! 😅 This is actually something I struggle with a lot. Many of my stories come to me with pretty solidly formed beginnings and ends, but connecting the two is what regularly gives me headaches.  “Hic sunt dracones” was no exception here. The first few chapters just sort of barged into my head, nearly fully formed, and demanded to be written with an insistence I couldn’t ignore. By the time I posted chapter one, I had almost everything up to the castle escape figured out, and I had a pretty solid idea of the ending I wanted, but the in-between was very blurry to me. For the longest time, the only thing my outline said was “They hang out at Eddie’s lair and fuck a lot”, but I had no idea on how to actually move the story forward beyond the monsterfucking. 🤣 What really did the trick was adding the sacrifice scene in chapter three to my plan, because that sort of is what propels the rest into motion and allowed me to tie things together at the end. That, and adding Wayne and his merry band of misfits to the cast, because Steve needed someone to actually fuel his character growth.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I mean “Yes, beloved?” gets screamed back at me so often I’ve made it my ask button, but there’s many.  I loved writing their first kiss in “Someone who cares”, because I had been edging both myself and the readers for seven chapters and by the point I finally got around to it, even I was like “damnit, come ON already!!”  I was grinning so hard while writing the big reveal in “Just add water”, where Steve physically dunks screaming, wet rat Eddie to shut him up.  Those are just two examples, but I have many of these scenes, and when people pick up on them and tell me how much they loved them, that always makes my day a little. 💖

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Anyone who follows me is probably sick of me talking about it by now, but @houseofthemovingimage and I are working on an absolute monster of a fic and art collab. It’s called “The King’s Gift”, and it features time traveler Steve, medieval king Eddie, a fae curse and lots of fun and drama and romance. ✨ I will not try to give any more estimates on when it’ll start posting bc we’ve both had a bit of a year and good things take time, but just know that I’m munching on the drywall over here, I’m so feral over it.  Other than that, I’m planning on participating in the @steddieholidaydrabbles again this year, and I may have been bouncing ideas with some other artists and fellow writers about more collabs, so there’s definitely more to come!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to @steddieas-shegoes for nominating me, and thank you to the amazing mods here at @steddieunderdogfics for all the hard work you’re putting into this blog! I love reading your fic recs and interviews, and it was so much fun getting to do one of my own. 🥰 This little online space we have here is so beautiful and creative and full of so many incredibly talented, kind and supportive people, some of whom have not only become moots but friends over the past two years. The Steddie fandom brings a smile to my face every single day, and I am simply unbelievably happy to be a part of it!

Thank you to our author, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, and our nominator, @steddieas-shegoes! See more of @just-my-latest-hyperfixation works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[spam-monster]

More Drawtectives headcanons! This is post S3 Ep1, but is mostly gonna be backstory/non-mega-spoilery stuff.

Jancy:

Used to live in Midnight Alley as a teen, was part of a girl gang with Lotta and Eugene's (bio) mom; but they drifted apart as Jancy got more into detective work, Lotta got more into crime, and Eugene's mom married a jerk.

They reconnected later and that's how Jancy knew Eugene.

Jancy did do some crimes in her youth even though she always wanted to be a detective, an older P.I. took her under their wing and gave her a chance and that's why she's so tolerant of Rose's shenanigans.

Eugene:

Home life wasn't great, very strict parents.

They either didn't approve of him becoming a performing spirit medium at all because it was "silly and undignified" to play with ghosts, or because their family is sensitive to spirits and they don't like that he made a spectacle out of it.

Possibly like (season 2 villain) and were only interested in profit and not helping the spirits?

Anyway that's why he takes so quickly to the Drawtectives as his new family. because they're loud and affectionate and quirky themselves.

Harper:

Was G-ma's first dog grooming customer and the only one she takes Harold to - they hang out and have Girl Talk and sometimes Rose drops by and is awkward.

Secretly into Villainius-verse fandom online but would never admit it publicly - she and Rose are unknowingly online friends and Harper writes fanfic and Rose draws fanart (and they scam people together?)

Favorite ship is Opticus/Liticus; is famous in the community for inventing an entire backstory for Liticus where his older brother he looked up to turned evil and killed their parents and he became evil himself to cope and he was only trying to date Villainius because he thought it was the right evil thing to do and he didn't think a good guy like Opticus could ever like someone like him and...SHE'S DEFINITELY NOT PROJECTING OR ANYTHING

[thirstyformoreheizuha]

With how often they travel long distance on Heiji's bikes, I think at some point Kazuha realises that she likes bike rides and figured, "why not get a license as well?"

And then like, she gets her license secretly to surprise Heiji (but her parents know and paid for it, of course), and just when she was about to tell Heiji about it, a case happened in some mall or something and they got distracted.

Then during the deduction showdown, the murderer, after getting revealed, pushed through the crowd to escape, managing to steal a motorbike and fled.

Heiji, who chased the murderer outside the building cursed in frustration since he parked his bike far away, and could only watch as the murderer sped into traffic.

Imagine his surprise when a bike suddenly stops in front of him, HIS BIKE, with Kazuha on the wheel, yelling at him to get on. Despite the huge shock and confusion, he took the helmet Kazuha handed and hopped on. Then, held onto Kazuha for dear life as she sped off and drove like A MAD WOMAN.

As she was speeding and trailing after the murderer right behind him, Heiji's brain was going override between "when the hell did she snatch my keys?" to "when did kazuha learn to drive??" and "HOW THE HECK ARE WE STILL ALIVE WITH THIS RECKLESS DRIVING?"

Even so, he quickly recovered when the murderer was literally a few metres in front of them, so he took of his helmet and threw it with all his might, hitting the murderer by their shoulders. The impact threw the murderer off the bike and conveniently landing into a bush.

Kazuha practically DRIFTED to avoid hitting the murderer's discarded bike. Heiji has never held onto her as tight as he did during those few seconds.

Miraculously, they managed to keep their balance until the bike was finally stable. Kazuha kicked(?) the foot shifter to park and both of them placed their foot on the ground before screaming simultaneously "AHOU THAT WAS DANGEROUS" to each others' face.

The police arrived a few moments later to an unconscious murderer lying in the bushes and Kazuha and Heiji yelling each other off.

The both of them got scolded by an angry Tooyama Ginshiro though . As Ootaki-han handled the criminal, Heiji got scolded for nearly causing an accident with the helmet while Kazuha got berated for the reckless driving when she JUST got her license two days ago. She was lucky she miraculously didn't hit a red light or not her license would have been suspended.

The police still had to wrap up the case, so the pair was told to return home first. This time, Heiji drove. The ride was silent until they reached Kazuha's house.

When Kazuha got off, the conversation went along something like this:

"Thanks for helping chase the murderer"

"Nah, you're the one who actually caught him"

"Even tho it was dangerous, you were pretty cool Kazuha"

"c-c-cool??" *blushes*

"JUST A LITTLE BIT *blushes* ahou don't misunderstand. Next time don't drive like that!"

"You ride like that all time!"

"ONLY DURING EMERGENCIES"

"Fine fine. See you tomorrow then"

That night, Heiji felt giddy as he remembered how close he held her today and how cool Kazuha actually was that he felt like he's falling in love over and over again.

.......................................................

I totally vote for the idea that Heiji and Kazuha are adrenaline junkies.

And in the future they would have road trips on their bikes together, and sometimes even race against each other when the road is clear with no cars.

Grrr now I want to see some biker Heiji and biker Kazuha fanarts.

[goldensunset]

reblogging on tumblr is like shopping. you go to the store and explore all the enticing stuff they have there and you say ooooh i want this and you take it and put it in your cart (reblog) and then go home with it and find a nice orderly place for it (tag) and then you can go get it any time you want. (except the item costs you no money and also it lives forever in your house (blog) no matter how many times you look at or use or eat it or whatever the metaphor is here.) it’s yours now. and it introduces everyone who visits your house to the product and now they want their own. liking on tumblr is like going to the store and inspecting everything and giving it a thumbs up and then complimenting the staff on what they have and maybe like emailing the company that made the product. they’re gonna be like oh thanks! ..why don’t you buy it then it’s a win win for us both. oh well i guess. neither reblogging nor liking on tumblr is like window shopping as a ghost. you eerily drift into the store and most people don’t even know of your presence. when you do finally do something tangible it tends to spook people because they had no clue you were there and staring at them the whole time. poor soul… you must be lost… here it’s ok take a loaf of bread (fanart of a character) with you on your way… it’s ok… reposting is like taking someone’s free gift and then trying to sell it yourself. CEASE

[leggerefiore]

Pls,,,pls for the love of God let reader kiss the twins big ol foreheads, I keep seeing fanart of them having short hair and big foreheads and it's,,,s,o cu,,,te,,,,auggh

they took anon out before they could finish saying their piece rip

cw: fluff,

characters: ingo, emmet,

▲Ingo▼

The Subway Boss sat on the couch after a particularly exhausting day. He did not even think to slip off his coat or cap as he treaded in. His gloved hand came up to grasp the brim. He head throbbed a bit from a building headache. The cap now sat in his lap as he instead focused on loosening his tie. The tiredness felt like it could seep out into the world around him with how terrible it had become.

You watched your poor boyfriend nearby, having popping your head out of the bedroom when you heard the door open. Ingo looked pathetic. His head laid on the back of the couch as he closed his eyes and let his mind drift. You knew that he struggled with overworking himself. It seemed this evening was an example of what happened when he did. Slipping out of the bedroom, you crept over to him, careful not to disturb him.

His face was charming, even in this condition. The way his light hair cupped his face alongside the careful styling he attentively worked on. His ever-present frown in his lips, making him always look stern – the way his nose sat on his face in compliment to the rest of it. There was a certain beauty to him that felt inexplicable, except that he was beautiful. His forehead laid exposed, cap gone, and a lack of bangs present. You leaned down to press a soft kiss to it.

This startled Ingo out of his stupor as his silver eyes shot open to stare at you. A giggle left you as you pulled away from him. Pink dusted across his cheeks as he almost unconsciously rose a hand to pull down a brim that was not on his head. “Ah, hello, dearest,” he spoke quietly and gazed down at the floor in embarrassment, “I'm home, clearly. I missed you, too.”

You gave him another kiss in reply. A strange squeaking sound escaped him.

His exhaustion seemed to vanish with your affection, in the end.

▽Emmet△

The younger twin's focus was intense as he locked his hands with his Eelektross's own. They were long in a small spar. It was both a bonding activity and training for the two. Emmet preferred to keep himself in shape for tasks around the station, and this helped him prepare for anything that may arise with pokemon. Eelektross enjoyed getting to do some more weird wrestling with its trainer. It kept on until the Subway Boss found himself on the floor, panting.

You peeked out from the kitchen, curious as to what Emmet was doing. Upon seeing him on the floor, you could only sigh. You checked to make sure the cake you had put in the oven would be okay before heading out of the kitchen. Emmet had strange hobbies, you knew. Nothing off-putting or distressing – just odd. His horde of spiders that he dearly cared for or sometimes physically fighting with his pokemon. You knew they would not hurt him, but he always seemed to exhaust himself out quickly. His eyes were closed as he regained his breath.

You leaned over him and gazed down at the twin. He was a bit sweaty, and his face was flustered from the exertion. His fringes clung to his face and had become disorderly. Lips were parted to breathe in precious air as his eyes were squeezed shut. Even thoroughly worn-out. You held back a laugh as you spotted his exposed forehead. Leaning down, you pecked a quick kiss to it.

Emmet's eyes opened in an instant. Before you could lean back up, he caught you and pulled you down for a kiss of his own. His lips met your cheek as he chuckled. He then pecked a few more before freeing you. You stood up straight, a bit dazed from the sudden affection. Emmet sat up in response and smiled at you. “Verrry cute,” he cooed, “Is the cake almost ready?” He then tilted his head.

You rolled your eyes in reply and told him there was still time. He pouted then.

Emmet then demanded more kisses to fill his urge for sugar.

[twistedroseytoesy]

Hey I love your work so much you brought back my love for sea creatures and stumbled across this beautiful creature.

The phantom jellyfish the most rarest jellyfish

Look at this beautiful jellyfish.

I ever found this beautiful fanart of a human phantom jellyfish I could not find the artist but its beautiful.

woa!!! I’ve never heard of this jelly before but it looks so pretty!!! Has a gothic-like or somewhat deadly kind of vibe. Oooooo! I'm going to do the ocatrio with malleus for this one since you didn't specify. Hope that's alright! These jellys are so cool cause they dont have stingers! their arms are used to just scoop up plankton and carry that to the mouth.

Description

A beautiful creature of the deep, rare, and rather secluded but you always found comfort in the pressure and darkness around you as you drifted through the void. Scavenging what you could from the waters with your long ribbon-like arms. You don't have the ability to sting, but your ribbons can be used to strangle and disorient predators. Especially since your dark skin matches the darkness of home. You have dark skin with a dark brown/orange undertone. Your body and arms make you up to 30 ft long! Your arms are 25 of those feet.

When you were called to the surface and NRC you struggled greatly with the harsh light. Your human form is only 6 ft tall with long, dark, ribbon-like hair and longer-than-average arms. you are able to manipulate your hair but you keep that more of a secret. you are fairly secluded and try to avoid crowds as much as physically possible. You have dark skin and your eyes are a startling orange color. You usually wear dark sunglasses so no one can really see your eyes unless the sun has set or it's fairly dark in the room.

Octavinelle

Azul: Knows your a mer, he likes keeping tabs on all the merfolk on campus. Your strange ribbon-like hair was what really caught his attention and he asked blackmailed you about it. Found out the hard way what it can do. He underestimated you since you seemed rather... soft-mannered. The twins wouldn't let him live it down for like a week. You do visit the lounge since it reminded you of the few times you floated closer to the twilight zone from your midnight home. the lower lighting was also the only lighting you could handle ok without your glasses so you visited and studied there quite often. He appreciates your patronage and somehow your calm demeanor and strength draw him to you. He liked being around you since your calm aura helps calm him. After long enough you are invited to sit in his VIP room where he turns all the lights off other than the aquarium or a controlled light over his desk and only his desk. You greatly appreciate it. He does try many times to have you work for him, your hair acts like his many arms back in the sea! imagine how efficient you would be! but he does understand how you wouldn't be able to work in the light.

When he first saw you merform in the magic pressure pool he was amazed at how LONG you were! He thought you were like the twin's size not double their length and then some! loves how silky your arms are and how you don't sting but he can feel the strength in those arms and remembers to not underestimate you. If you invite him to swim with you he will try to stammer out a smooth response. Maybe someday. Does with to have you do some sort of sink dancing thing, you would do amazing with it! the way your arms are already like silk makes him dream. if you ever are close and you wrap your soft arms around him he will immediately melt and even have some tears build up in his eyes. Your hugs are understanding and kind and calm.

Jade: Your hair is what really caught his attention. The way it seemed to squirm along with you when he asked many uncomfortable questions. Knew you were a mer from Azul and was trying to figure out what exactly you were, you didn't cover up like other jellyfish mers yet you had that calmness they are known for. Probably figured it out when he overheard you tell someone else what you were. Such a rare specimen had Jade all the more intrigued. Asked even more questions and even subtly hinted he knew what you were, he got hair slapped when he gave you a dark jello treat he created and mentioned wanting to test if its taste was accurate. Super surprised that your hair actually had that kind of force, he knew it could move but you made him take a full step back to catch himself. Impressive~ also likes to try and see your eyes but is more respectful than Floyd, usually lowers the lights in your area of the lounge with some magic, just to see those beautiful glowing orange orbs.

When he first saw your mer form he was very curious about your long arms. Asking politely to hold one since he knew he couldn't reach you in the pressure pool without risking bodily harm. He compliments the texture and strength of the silky ribbons. Happily offering a job at the mostro louge for a once-a-week show from the depths. You kindly turned him down, saying you like to be more in the shadows than the star. He nods at this. you both connect by watching things from a distance. Asks many questions still but won't hint at trying to eat you after he saw Floyd get strangled for biting you.

Floyd: Squishy!! He likes squeezing you, You're so soft and easy to squeeze, but you don't wiggle as much! He calls you black jellyfish. He likes to mess with your hair. it looks so cool! one time it slapped him when he tried to bite it and he loved it even more! Pokes and prods at it to annoy you. Thought you were boring but another time stole your sunglasses and really liked your eyes! He's never seen glowing orange eyes before! so now this man pokes at your hair and tries to blind you a lot. You try to stay away from him but that's fairly difficult to do. Over time he clams a bit around you, especially when he really pissed you off and you strangled him to near passing out. Likes to see you try new foods, and your faces of delight are so cute! he also pesters you with a lot of questions. he changes his nickname for you when you correct him. "phantom jelly!" he would usually call out before you are lifted off of your feet. sometimes he will break turn off the lights to get you to show off your glowing eyes.

When he first saw your merform in the pressure pool he wanted to hop right in but just before he jumped in you cocooned him in your silky arms, telling him he's an idiot for trying to swim in the most dangerous pool, he would be crushed like a tin can even in his merform! he said you were no fun but did have to agree that a broken tail would suck more. You keep an arm and eye on him to make sure he doesn't try anything particularly stupid. He really likes your cool silky arms! keeps asking when you would want to swim with him in the dorm underwater sanctuary. He's very lucky you are very patient with his very excitable self.

With special guest

Malleus: You both connected by being out at night, when the world is still and you feel closer to home. The darkness is a welcome relief to you. You and he crossed paths on a late-night walk. No words were needed as you both continued to walk through the night, pointing out some stars or other small things of interest. You even let your hair down and he happily allowed his magic fireflies to show themselves. You were the best of mute friends understanding each other's lonely life with no words needed. He and you took a few weeks before words were spoken and it was comfortable. he enjoys the smooth texture of your hair and is always pleasantly surprised at its strength when you do use it. you admire his dark power and how his horns are so tough and strong on his head.

When he first sees your merform in a lake one night he couldn't help but be mesmerized by your long silky arms. The way they floated and swayed in the water, the gentle glow from just under your skin, and the softness of your body in the water. He complimented you and your form, promising to show you his true form someday when you were both ready for it. He treasures your trust and tries to help you with his magic, even creating a spell to make a bubble of darkness around you so light doesn't hurt your eyes as much. He also really likes your eyes, unnatural yet powerful, like his.

[localplantghost]

I'm obsessed with Drifting Home

[viktuurishipper96]

Scenario two: Oliver sees a Scottish beauty in bed.

When Oliver finished his work for the day and he and toad went home. When they arrived at the mansion at the McIntosh/Collett/Armstrong residences( equivalent to ducks branch line), he sees a note that Douglas wrote and says “meet me in the bedroom my darling , you and I are going to have some fun. See you tonight honey���”. Oliver blushes and gets a nosebleed, so toad asked him “Um are you alright Mr. Oliver?” Oliver answer to toad “oh yes I’m fine! it’s just Douglas is so beautiful and I can’t take my eyes off of him especially his smile, his beauty, his body and his intelligence” he said dreamily. Afterwards, he took toad to his own bedroom and tucked him in for a good night sleep and closed the door. Soon after, Oliver was following a trail of red rose petals; and when he arrived at their master bed room, he saw the most gorgeous figure while wearing a beautiful blue see through robe as Douglas lies down in his rounded bed with a canopy on top while making a suggestive movement including using his bedroom eyes and bitting his lips. When Douglas crawled up to Oliver, he said “Welcome home, Ollie” he said seductively as he offers a bite of the chocolate covered strawberries and pats the soft satin sheets that awaits for Oliver. Then afterwards, the two kissed and held each other tight for a night of romance. Soon after, the two started to cuddle and Oliver caresses Douglas beautiful hair and said “Douglas, you’re the most beautiful and gorgeous person I’ve met. I’m so happy that we’re soulmates and newly weds.” Then Douglas says “oh Oliver, you’re the most handsome person I’ve met ever since I’ve saved you and toad from scrap. My darling, we are soulmates and newly weds now.” Finally, Douglas and Oliver began to drift off to sleep and he placed his hand onto Oliver’s chest and the two heartbeats beats as one. And so, the two soulmates fell asleep and they will never let go. The end 🖤💚

whew that was a beautiful scenario with Douglas and Oliver with toad mentioned. I promise I’ll finish my fanart of Donald. It’s my attempt to do a Douglas x Oliver fanfic so enjoy. And if you’re wondering, it’s based off of a fanart that I did