#g��ven

[deklo]

happy bday kevin 😤 222

[gringoslur]

los gringos tienen demasiada liviendad hablando de horrores internacionales y poniéndolos uno versus el otro como si fuera una parte de las olimpiadas, como si su pais no fuera uno de las principales fuentes de conflicto.

that shit doesnt make u sick? ill explain it in pop terms: i wanna cut ur gringo tongue and serve it to my people so it finally has a purpose.

[ventalizm]

Happy Valentine's day!

Valentine's day is coming up and you [FEEL DOOMED WITH YOUR SEVERE LACK OF RIZZ???]? Say no more! [METTATON'S HERE] to save the day. Ask your crush or partner out with this [SPECIAL METTATON VALENTINE'S CARD] and win your interests heart in no time!! They will [DEEPLY FALL IN LOVE] with you upon [LOOKING AT THIS GIFT CARD]! [OHH YESS!!] Love [IS IN THE AIR, BABY]!!

[estinyans]

made khilo and grahas kids (real) in game (as adults)

left is f'lyhia, their daughter. she takes up pugilism like khilo and is pretty headstrong and extroverted, is older than her brother by like a year or two and acted as his Bully Deterant when they were little

right is g'venah, their son. he takes an interest in magic when he's young and gets taught by raha how to use it properly. a lot more introverted than his sister but has too many Silly Cat Genes in him to be a serious bookworm

[the-acid-pear]

Es yo literal

[scrawlingskribbles]

/holds them gentle like hamburbger..................

[koushirouizumi]

×××HOLiC {S T A G E}

{C a p by Me} {DO NOT RE P O S T} (P l e a s e A S K to U s e)

[killjoy-prince]

Yesterday's manga haul and lunch!!

[asaichiban]

the curse of loving a band manga but it's not popular enough or appropriate to adapt into an anime so you'll never get to hear any of their music

[atyourmerci]

Thinking about how Javier Peña wouldn’t let you come until you asked perfectly in Spanish. What better chance to make sure your Spanish was pristine than when you were so desperate?

“Javier please…” his pace never falters as he continues to rut into you, circling your swelled bud.

“In Spanish. You know the rules sweetheart.” He stills himself inside of your fluttering walls.

“Por- favor..,” you say in a whine.

His stubble scratches the outside of your ear, “por favor qué?” He taunts, unmoving as his tip presses into your sweet spot.

“por favor déjame terminar, Javier.”

He gives a smug laugh into your ear, beginning to pump back into you, “buena niña.”

Your hands grip back into the sheets, so close, and he knows. “What did I say?”

You are barely coherent at this point, eyes rolled back, your knuckles whitening in the grip of the bedsheets. “You- c-alled me a g-fuck- a good girl.”

He laughs again, pleased at his teaching strategies, “that’s right sweetheart, ven por mí.”

[shurisgf]

i can’t stop thinking about him omg ,

Armando carefully traced every inch of your body, making sure that not one part went untouched. His large frame was on top of yours as he leaned down and trailed kisses from your neck down to your collarbone. He was going too slow for your liking, you needed him. Now. And he knew that, that’s why he was teasing you. His hand moved dangerously close to your clit, leaving you longing for more. Still, he trailed kisses from your collarbone to your lower stomach, where he stopped to look up at you for a moment, all needy for his cock. You were a moaning mess, overwhelmed by his pleasure. “Sigue haciendo esos bonitos sonidos para mí princesa.” He spoke in that calm sexy voice of his, as his fingers began to rub your clit nice and slow, taking his time with you. “Bebé, please-“ your incoherent words were cut off by armando’s fingers pumping inside of that wet pussy he loved so much. Your moans began to get louder as you laid there, overstimulated from the fast pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. You could feel your climax getting closer and closer by the second, trying to chase your own high, as you felt him stop his motions. You whined loudly when you felt him stop, causing Armando to chuckle a bit. “Shhh, nena ven aquí.” He gently turned you over in missionary, lining his thick cock at the entrance of your wet pussy, pushing it in roughly, earning a hard moan from both of you. “Joder, te sientes tan bien, toda apretada para mí mamá.” All you could give him was a weak moan in response. He thrusted at a fast pace, determined to give you the climax he didn’t give you before. As he thrusted, you arched your back in an attempt to feel the entire length of his cock. “Mierda-“ he grunted,

“Fuck! Armando-“ You whined out, desperately trying to let him know that you were close. Your walls clenched around his dick, earning a moan from Armando’s lips.

“I know, bebita, cum for me, yeah?” His own thrusts were getting sloppier as he sped up his pace, “Oh my g-“ you tried to get the words out, but your high came crashing down, as you covered his dick completely. Your own orgasam triggered his, as he slowed down his thrusts, before pulling out and releasing his seed on your ass. You instantly fell on the mattress and turned over so that you were on your stomach. Every bone in your body was weak.

He looked down at you, all fucked out and heavy breathing, tear stains on your cheeks from all of his overstimulation and leaned down to place a soft kiss on your cheeks. “Lo hiciste tan bien por mí mamá, let’s get in the shower, hm?” He whispered in your ear. You weakly nodded as he picked you up and moved towards the bathroom.

GLOSSARY !

Sigue haciendo esos bonitos sonidos para mí princesa. — Keep making those pretty sounds for me princess.

Bebé — Babe/Baby.

Nena ven aquí — Baby come here.

Joder, te sientes tan bien, toda apretada para mí mamá. — Fuck, you feel so good, all tight for me mama.

Mierda — Fuck.

Bebita — Babygirl.

Lo hiciste tan bien por mí mamá. — You did so well for me mama.

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — SHURI'S GF. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission !

TAGLIST; @ghettogirly @milliumizoomi @loakswifesworld @dyttomori

reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[help-an-alter]

INTRO

Hello! Welcome to our blog.

blog is for fragments, by fragments.

THIS BLOG SUPPORTS PALESTINE!

THE MODS!

Creator (alters listed);

anything with a ".here" at the end of the name is the creator (the one who came up with this!!)

S (Any pronouns)

55 (Any xenos or he/it.)

RAINBOW (Any, preferably feminine but they dont mind)

Rs (He/him)

A (masculine pronouns of any sort.)

J (he/they)

Red (Any masculine pronouns)

Some have chosen to hide their real name, and instead use a code name. --------

Other mods here!!! (create a template of your own if you want)

mod cupid / mod 💘

Bitter (they/them)

Adorerine (she/he/they/it/love++)

Cherie (she/it/mew)

Mimi (she/needle)

(that's all the alters we know are gonna help sometimes)

--------

jinx / helena / mortuary [they/them]

sayona [she/they]

ven [he/him]

ari [it/she/glitch/pop+]

ithaca [fog/they] -----

Oz (they/them)

Lei (they/any)

Cog (he/him)

G (he/they)

Sol (he/they)

Boo (she/her)

On this blog we will collectively go by Shiver (they/them), some of the alters helping out have stayed anon with fake names! -------

Sprout (He/Him)

Mousey (She/They/Adore)

Other alters might pop in but it’s mainly these two!

-------

Hi, I'm Mod Celestia (System)! We use any pronouns (including neos and xenos) :3

I can't guarantee alters will do sign offs but they might, and if so they'll probably do their name then .cel

Some alters who will likely help this blog are

Anne Marie (she/ghost/blood/fire/wing/death)

Niki (she/they/it)

Row (they/it/he/xe/paw/fern/allium/hydrangea/hyacinth)

Draculaura (she/they/fang/bat/blood)

Collei (she/vi/bloom/pain)

-------

rapture/ajaw (he/rapture/it)

all alters from our system will have a .crow on the end of their name, but expect to see me more than anyone.

-------

Mod FireFly/Mod Lupin (it/fae/xe/they)

Zero/Oliver/Maveryck (he/it/creach)

Ronin/Butcher (he/it)

RagDoll/BabyDoll (he/she)

We most likely won't be specifying which alter is posting the requests!

-------

mod 💫 (hy/dae/they) we will mainly be posting as one on here, so no need to worry abt alter names or anything :)

-------

mod niki (they/them)

probably wont have alters do individual sign offs, but if they do, it will be “__ of niki” !

-------

↓ more under the cut! ↓

wowweeeee is that an anon list!?!!?

DNI:

supporters of Endos or any non disordered 'systems'

any non disordered 'systems'

people who see this as build an alter. its different. read the FAQ

Pedos, zoophiles, anti furries, anti regression, anti system in general.

Syscourse

Racists, Zionists, pro-israel

Pro r/systemscringe

Sophieinwonderland (she cant follow dnis so thats why shes here)

FAQ

"What is "Help an Alter?"

You know that really ableist "build an alter"? yea? its like THAT, but for fragmented alters with no sense of identity. We do not build alters, we help them find themself.

"I have a question!!"

Questions can be directed to our inbox.

"syscourse blah blah"

Syscourse is NOT welcome on this blog.

"Im an endo and..."

Endos are also not welcome.

"Whats your main blog?"

We aren't comfortable with sharing.

"Are you hiring?"

Not at the moment, we have enough mods :)

-- END OF QUESTIONS --

Thanks for the questions !

Special thank yous: @syscultureis and their followers for helping us find the name, @anti-endo-safe-space for being so comforting with your messages, @anti-endo-polyfragculture for being so epic and inspiring us, all of our main blog mutuals for supporting us (you know who you are!!), @systemterms for being so helpful, @syspport for the awesome userbox (shown at the end!!) and everyone else!

[myokk]

fast sketch of my Imelda oneshot🫶💓

remembering the snow

Word count: 3.300

Rating: G/T I don’t get the difference 🧍‍♀️

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves.

Her mother always talked about the circumstances of her birth with pride: Imelda came quickly as if she were eager to get out and see the world already, screaming even before she had fully left her mother's womb, determined to leave an indelible mark on the world.

The women in their village who had assisted the birth crossed themselves, chattering to each other in quick, soft, beautiful Spanish staccato about the baby who was already unlike any they had ever seen before. Strong and healthy and beautiful, her deep brown eyes already taking in her surroundings and watching them solemnly moments after her arrival.

Her father always talked about the circumstances of her childhood: running wild and free, flying before she could walk (a source of great pride), his little shadow who peppered him with endless questions about the world. He always brought her along to his work meetings much to everyone's delight; she was with him when he was offered the enviable position of Spanish Diplomat to the British Ministry of Magic.

At the age of five, they left the beautiful sleepy village where time hadn't seemed to exist. Imelda still dreams of long, hot, dusty days playing under the shade of orange trees, going to the market every two days with her mother draped in their finest silks, sleeping and lying around during the hottest part of the day, only leaving their house once the sun left its highest point and was about to disappear behind the mountains.

The older women in the village doted on her. If she thinks hard, she can recall their beautiful, wavering voices calling out to her as she raced past them: 'ten cuidado, cariño, te vas a mancar', 'ven aquí, cielo, te quiero ver la cara tan bonita', 'mira cómo se está creciendo, se nota que va a ser una belleza de mayor'...voices filled with comfort and love. She never knew anything different then.

She's their only child. Her mother was always brushing her hair and humming, trying to get her to sit still and listen to her endless fairy tales as the sun bore down on them; her father, treating Imelda like the son he had always wished for but accepting and loving her all the same. Sometimes, her mother would let her out of the house before the sun became too strong and they would fly around the mountains and be free free free.

Arriving to Edinburgh at the age of five, Imelda hadn't even realized she didn't speak the same language as the other children around her. As with everything else, she jumped in headfirst. Her mother always jokes that she became fluent in English the second she stepped foot on Scottish soil. To Imelda, it does seem that way. She can't ever remember not speaking in the soft Scottish burr, reminiscent of the soft Spanish she had left behind and still spoke at home.

As a child, she never had problems forging relationships with whoever was around her. She was brash and inquisitive and irresistible, taking charge wherever she went. The other children flocked around her, hanging on to her every word.

It changed, though, when her mother got her cough. It started out harmless enough, a slight cough and headache before bed each night. When her mother woke up every morning, she would be fine. But going to bed early changed to going to bed even earlier and earlier until it was time to accept what the three of them were steadfastly ignoring: she was getting worse.

Imelda was nine. She remembers her mother drying her tears with gentle, soft hands, caressing her cheeks and whispering to her that it would be fine. That she wasn't gone yet: they still had time.

'No pasa nada, mi amor. Siempre estaré contigo.'

At Hogwarts, things changed even more. She was a Slytherin and proud of it, but she never quite fit in with her classmates. She wasn't one of them, hadn't grown up with them, and they made sure she knew it. Gone were the days of running wild: she turned her single-minded determination to her studies and quidditch and found herself excelling at everything she put her mind to. It all came easily to her and she had no time for anyone who could distract her.

She wasn't a complete loner. She had her quidditch teammates, her partners in various classes, but nobody she hung out with outside of classes. She always studied alone, learned alone, trained alone.

(Of course, the picture she paints to her father in owls home is much different. He has enough on his mind - a daughter struggling to make friends is a non-issue as far as Imelda is concerned. And besides: she's fine.)

Imelda was quite content with the way things were working out for her. She would never admit if she was lonely or not, and enjoyed every part of her life. Until her fifth year, when everything began to change. Gone were her rigid schedules and studying alone and discipline. A new girl was sorted into Slytherin and Imelda found she didn't hate the girl's company. The two of them laugh together at night while they braid each others' hair, Imelda teaches her Spanish, and they have started to study together.

The new student drags her around Hogwarts and Imelda finds herself actually enjoying herself and enjoying spending time with the classmates she’s spent so many years ignoring.

  This is when she meets Poppy Sweeting.

Well...Poppy swears that they met ages ago, during their first year when they were partnered together in Potions. Imelda has no recollection - that whole year was a blur - it was the year her mother succumbed to her illness - so she has to take Poppy's word for it.

She finds herself with friends for the first time in a long time. But, when the new student is running off with Sebastian doing Merlin-knows-what, things that Imelda definitely does not want to be a part of, she still finds herself seeking Poppy's company.

Poppy is sweet and fun and introverted in a way that Imelda finds familiar and comfortable: whereas Imelda turns to her studies and quidditch, Poppy often opts to spend time more time with beasts than humans. But there's something endearing about her earnestness and Imelda starts to find herself craving Poppy's calm company.

She always knows what to say when Imelda finds herself getting worked up over nothing.

  On the train home for the winter holidays, as Imelda is striding down the long corridor in search of an empty cabin where she can read and concoct fail-proof quidditch tactics, Poppy calls her over to her carriage and asks Imelda to keep her company. She only needs to ask once. There's an unfamiliar fluttering in Imelda's stomach as she sits across from Poppy and the other girl beams at her but it's...well. It's not altogether unpleasant. They play exploding snap and exchange book recommendations and laugh together and...well, if Imelda's knee brushes against Poppy's occasionally or their fingers linger as they exchange essays to look over...

She can't be blamed, can she?

A letter from Poppy arrives over the break. At the sight of Poppy's small brown owl tapping the window with the letter in its beak, Imelda's heart starts racing and she runs over to the bird, grinning like a fool, but she pauses before opening it. Her fingers tremble as they hover over the wax seal.

Imelda's father is largely absent these days, a shadow of the man she had grown up with. She's noticed the difference over the summer too, of course, but the winter always feels different. More desolate; more harsh. They're nearing the four-year anniversary of her mother's death. It's impossible to ignore the fact that losing his wife has damaged his soul irreparably, and Imelda's seeing first-hand what being deeply in love can do to a person.

Maybe she'll put the letter aside and read it tomorrow.

Tomorrow bleeds into the next day turns into one week and before she can blink the bleak winter vacation with her father has ended and she's heading back to Hogwarts.

On the train, she walks past Poppy: the two of them make eye contact but Poppy flushes and looks out the window, tucking her honey-colored hair behind her ear and Imelda moves on to the next empty carriage. She pulls out some parchment and works on revising her Charms essay. It's for the best, anyway, she tells herself. For the best that she doesn't have any distractions. Their O.W.L.s are coming up and she's determined to get an O in every subject.

  The month of January goes by in a flash. Between the insane quidditch schedule she's concocted for her team and the study sessions in the library, she keeps herself busy. The new fifth-year, her first real friend, starts to show concern for Imelda, gently trying to ask her what's going on as they braid each others' hair before bed.

Imelda doesn't want to bother her, though.

(She doesn't truly know what's the matter, anyways.)

She resolves to do a better job with keeping her emotions in check - her friend has enough on her plate, and Imelda doesn't want her to have to worry over something that's not even a problem in the first place.

She's fine.

Out of the corner of her eye in the classes she shares with Poppy, Imelda notices that she doesn't look as happy as she normally does. Her face is more pale and withdrawn; whenever Imelda's eyes flicker to her, her own gaze darts away.

  With the beginning of February come a lot of blizzards, and they make Imelda remember the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

They had both run over to her, covering her with warm hugs and kisses, the tiny family huddled together in this foreign place where the people looked and spoke differently, where nothing was the same and she missed the old women who would give her mazapanes whenever she ran by, missed the tiny clouds of dust that would puff up as she ran and the hazy mountains in the distance and the hot, hot sun beating down while she played in the shade of the orange trees while her mother slept away the heat. Pulling her mittened hands off of her tear-stained face and telling her 'mira cariño, mira qué bonita es la nieve. Tócala, ya verás que no pasa nada...estamos aquí contigo...'

Her tears had soon dried and she was laughing and playing in the snow and she couldn't even remember what had made her so sad in the first place.

Imelda's sad now as she stares out the window.

Her mother isn't there anymore. She has no one to turn to in this self-imposed exile.

Four years ago today.

She's hidden herself away in an alcove, curled up, arms wrapped around her knees watching the snow swirling out the window. She canceled quidditch practice today due to the storm, much to everyone's surprise. Just last week, she had forced them to train in the freezing rain and today's snowfall is mild in comparison. But...today she doesn't have the energy. She's spent so much effort pretending that everything's fine when it's not and now she's sad and alone and confused.

She doesn't hear Poppy when she comes near.

The other girl crowds into Imelda's space, pressing against her in the alcove. The two face each other, and Poppy brings a gentle hand up to Imelda's face to brush away tears she hadn't even realized were falling.

"What -" Imelda starts saying, but a fresh sob chokes her and she can't. Poppy leans forward and wraps her arms around Imelda, pulling her into a close embrace. Imelda feels everything crumbling around her and she sobs into Poppy's shoulder - Poppy whispering reassurances and smoothing her hair, cradling Imelda as she cries and cries and cries.

They don't leave the alcove for another hour, almost staying out after curfew.

  Imelda is subdued the next few days. The snow continues to fall until the whole castle looks like it's straight from one of the fairy tales her mother used to tell her as she brushed her hair. Imelda shows up for meals, shows up for classes, shows up in the study group, but she feels like she's just going through the motions.

She can tell her friend is getting worried, but Imelda can't confide in her. Her friend does small gestures anyways because she understands: saving Imelda a seat in class, asking her about quidditch, saving her favorite muffins for her at breakfast.

Maybe she talked to Sebastian about her worry because even he is being nicer than normal to Imelda, asking her if she wants to play wizarding chess with the two of them. Imelda doesn't really understand how or why they like playing the game so much - her friend is awful at it and Sebastian seems to enjoy the destruction and chaos more than actually strategizing. Even though Imelda hates the game - every move is painfully obvious and she can't understand how nobody else sees it like she does - maybe it would be nice to do something different.

Imelda freezes when they enter the Astronomy Tower to play: Poppy is there, waiting. For her. They haven't seen each other since she broke down humiliated and sobbing and she doesn't know what to do.

Sebastian looks between the two of them, brows furrowed, then leans down to their friend and whispers something in her ear. She nods and the two of them disappear, leaving Imelda and Poppy alone.

Poppy stands and Imelda can feel her heart start to hammer against her throat. Poppy walks forward slowly, only stopping when she's right in front of Imelda. When she speaks, her voice is high and sweet and Imelda realizes how much she missed her. "I-I'm sorry, I just didn't know how else I could talk to you. Will you come with me? I have something to show you."

Imelda nods mutely and Poppy takes her hand. They lace their fingers together and it's the first time - apart from a few days ago - that they have voluntarily touched each other. She feels Poppy's fingers tighten around hers and Imelda focuses on the feeling of soft knuckles under her thumb, but now...she's self-conscious for the first time about her quidditch-rough hands and maybe she should have listened to her friend when she tried to encourage Imelda to use some hand lotion.

Maybe Poppy will let go of her hand and leave in disgust.

But...Poppy doesn't do any of that. Every so often, she looks up at Imelda, smiling slightly. When they reach the Entrance Hall, she lets go of Imelda's hand and Imelda feels its loss with a pang.

Poppy opens the bag at her side and pulls out two huge yellow and black Hufflepuff scarves. As she's reaching up to wrap one around Imelda, she whispers: "sorry, I only have these. But yellow looks good on you."

Both of them flush and smile at each other and Imelda doesn't know how long they stand before Poppy grabs her hand again, making sure their fingers are laced, and then they are heading out.

Poppy looks more and more excited the closer they get to the Forbidden Forest, but Imelda's never set foot even remotely close to the forest, and she feels quite apprehensive at first. But, Poppy's excitement is exhilarating - Imelda can feel it rolling off of her in waves and despite herself, she begins to feel excited too. They still haven't spoken since leaving Hogwarts, but it's a comfortable silence. Imelda's glad for the scarf - their breath is puffing out in soft clouds as they breathe and it's quite cold - the freezing temperatures in Scottish winters are still something she's never quite gotten used to.

Their boots crunch through the snow-filled landscape - it's nearing dusk and the sky is turning a brilliant shade of orange and pink, but it gets obscured by the tree branches the further into the Forbidden Forest they venture, the golden light only showing in bursts now.

"Almost there," Poppy says breathlessly. She beams up at Imelda, whose breath catches at the sight, before turning back and pulling her faster and faster until they stop in a clearing. They've stopped in the middle, and Imelda looks around.

Here, they can actually see the sky and it is breathtaking in its beauty - the gnarled, naked trees around them twisting and reaching up as if they could try and grasp some of the beauty for themselves. The snow is perfectly smooth and untouched except for the footprints that the two of them have just left. Apart from that, the clearing is nondescript.

This is what Poppy had been so excited to show her?

Poppy gives no explanation for why she brought Imelda to the Forbidden Forest, but she's almost quivering in excitement - Imelda can feel the tension in the hand that's clutching hers tightly. The sun sets lower and lower, the two of them watching it as the colors around them start to fade and mute and then -

Poppy gasps in delight.

There -

A small, dancing, brilliant white light sparks to their left and disappears just as quickly.

"Look," Poppy whispers. Imelda glances over to her - she can barely make out her face in the dimming light, but Poppy seems to be glowing with happiness.

There - again -

More and more of the brilliant white lights appear, glowing and flickering on and off, and moving in almost a pattern, dancing around their heads. Imelda laughs as she watches the tiny creatures fly around them. It's magical and beautiful and -

"I found the snow sprite nest a few weeks ago, when the blizzards started, and I've been observing them since then. I...I wanted to show you and tell you about them the second I found out because I haven't stopped thinking about you but after...well, you know...I just wanted to cheer you up..."

Poppy trails off, looking uncertain when Imelda doesn't say anything in response.

She can't, even though she desperately wants to. Her mouth goes dry as she looks to the girl at her side, who has done all of this, for her.

Poppy looks impossibly lovely in the glow of the snow sprites, as they dance and spark around their heads in a beautiful waving pattern and Imelda doesn't even think as her hand goes to Poppy's cheek. Poppy stops rambling as she looks up into Imelda's eyes.

Then, before she can lose her nerve, Imelda leans forward and presses her lips to Poppy's. It's only the lightest of touches, but her heart is beating so quickly and Merlin, she can't believe she just did that. She quickly retreats, face flaming, but before she can get away Poppy reaches up to cup Imelda's cheeks with both hands and she pulls her forward, her mouth greedy, desperate, as they finally kiss.

When they finally pull away, breathing heavily as their foreheads rest against each other, Imelda can't help the huge smile that's threatening to split her face open. It mirrors the expression she sees on Poppy, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed and she is just so lovely that Imelda can't help but lean forward and capture her mouth again. Their lips mold to each other and it's the culmination of all of their stolen glances, touches, secret wishes.

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves, after all.

[aita-alternia]

[] i didnt mind, b_t my l_s_s s_re was pissed O.o []

MY M^TESPRIT DID NOT EVEN MIND MUCH TH^T I SHOWED UP ^T HIS HIVE UNN^NNOUNCED THIS E^RLY IN THE EVENING. GET YOU ^ GIRL WHO WILL PUT UP WITH YOUR HOOFBE^STSHIT

[cuando-fingi-quererte]

Ven a calmar está erección a sentones.

— G'

[digitalmaeri]

Marie, I need you to know ever since you said Derek's voice is like Marshall from Adventure Time, I have not stopped listening to Good Little Girl, and you’re to blame. IT HAS PLAGUEDDDD MY BRAIN. Also imagining Sven saying Howl iconic “that’s my girl” I‘m in the trenches because of you (I’m not complaining in the slightest) And ofc I have more questions for you if ya don’t mind!!

What’s each LI irrational fears like sharks, getting caught in an escalator, etc!!

What’s the LI ideal first date?

What songs do you associate with the LI?

who’s your fav LI? (I’m pretty confident I know who, but I still wanna ask)

How do you pronounce Sven name😭? I’ve been saying suh-ven, but some people say sss-ven, suh-fen, I even saw one that seven! I’m truly lost lol! I wanna make sure I’m pronouncing my husband’s name right 🙏🏾

Have an amazing day!! 🫶🏾

Helloo again!!

Good little girl is suchhh a good song!! and I had the biggest crush on Marshall growing up hahahhahah

And yessss Sven as Howl?!?!? Drawing him with the iconic Howl outfit is on my to-do list 🖋

~~

Gwen doesn't like heights very much. She's afraid of getting on rollercoasters and avoids looking straight down whenever she's up high!

I can't think of a fear for Derek- I feel like he's down for most things. I could imagine him having recurring nightmares of not-so-fun social situations ( not getting work done in time, every washing machine being broken, all the plants in the lobby dying ). They're usually a little stress-inducing.

Sven's fear is more of an insecurity- He's afraid his art won't ever "be enough" ( meaning that he "isn't enough" ). He only sees himself "as valuable" as his skill.

~~

Gwen's ideal first date would be a cute little picnic! She'd pack a little basket- go on a nice walk and get to know you.

Derek would love a bookstore date! Or a concert! You can share thoughts on books you like, then go to a concert in the evening.

Sven doesn't mind going on any date, as long as it's with you.

You being his date is all he needs.

~~

Sven feels like the Do I wanna know cover by Hozier but also like Treehouse by Alex G!! BUT ALSO TV GIRL'S LOVER ROCK!?! Somehow finding songs for him is really easy.

Gwen is Velvet Ring by Big Thief. and Laufey's Falling Behind.

Derek is Wheatus' Teenage Dirtbag and The Spook School's I want to Kiss You. oh also! Boys will be bugs by cavetown ( specifically because he likes bugs hahahah )

Derek plays animal crossing and he collects all the bugs

but also his town is full of weeds

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My fav LI was Gwen initially ( cause I love pretty women GAHHH ) but the other two are growing on me a lot so I'm not sure anymore!!

I've been posting more of Sven but my sketchbook has more Gwen sketches c':

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Thanks to you I've said Sven's name out loud so many times trying to figure it out myself hahahaha

I say it the way they do in Frozen!

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Thank you so much for all the questions !! <3