#i wanted to draw most of the ideas i had for this ask

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[bull-at-the-gate]

Sehkmet the Just. Devoted Paladin of The Lord of the North Wind; The Wyrmking; King of Good Dragons; The Platinum Dragon Bahamut

More silly Tavs. haha can we tell that I started out drawing animals and have for way longer than I’ve drawn people?

Sehkmet’s an Oath of Vengeance Paladin and always keeps her word, or will die in the attempt.

I imagine she’s been resurrected once before after falling in battle against the cult of Tiamat.

She devoted her life to serving as an instrument for Bahamut’s vengeance after losing her clan to followers of Tiamat as a wee cub.

So she’s very devout, but also gets to be a whole himbo, as a treat. She and Hollow (my durge) would ask together with full earnestness ‘what animal is the pink panther’ and Sehkmet would probably forget after a week.

Some Headcanon-y Things

Heals by giving lil’ forehead kisses and will absolutely not tolerate anyone hiding injuries, she’s lost too many a good ally to let that slide.

Helps with cooking by prepping the food so Gale has a little less work to do; Can freeze food for later too

White Dragonborn are more adapt for the cold, so Sehkmet’s got a thick downy fur, ideal for cuddling; everyone has slept with at least once for the best platonic cuddles (maybe minus Lae’zel until much later)

Has no idea what a shirt is, not really, but she prefers to go without when resting. Only somewhat understands modesty, everything for Dragonborn is extremely internal so she understands in concept, but not necessarily for herself

Does laundry for everyone, finds the repetitiveness to be meditative and is particular about strong smells, so doing it is a win-win. Patches up any holes she finds too.

Fascinated by hair, loves to style it and learned how to when a few war clerics taught her to. Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale all thought she was giving them *the look* but she just wanted to play with and style their hair.

I need to practice muscular bodies a bit, but she’s built like a seven-foot tall truck and hits like a train.

Can only see out of one eye, lost total use of her right one while training to join her order but the vision had been failing most of her life.

She was a secret fan of *The Blade of Frontiers* before meeting Wyll because she’d heard he also only had one functioning eye and was still able to be a champion of the people.

did not, however, realize she was older than him. She’s still a fan.

Spends at least one evenings each tenday polishing and caring for the party’s armor, after proving to Lae’zel she did an acceptable enough job to be entrusted hers as well.

Scarily fast, especially out of her armor. She was too slow, once, to save a cleric who’d trusted her to be their shield. She’d vowed to never be too slow again, and she always keeps her word.

Offers mercy and a second chance unless it’s been proven to her that a beaten enemy won’t do better; She follows Bahamut’s own words on the matter, no justice without mercy and no penance without forgiveness

Would probably be a theater kid

Spars with Lae’zel and Karlach on the regular in camp. I like the idea that Dragonborn can replace teeth but it’s not common knowledge yet, so it’s funny to picture:

Karlach knocking out a couple teeth and being extremely apologetic and starts looking for the teeth

Sehkmet’s just confused because she’s assumed her whole life everyone’s teeth regrow and is confused why Karlach’s dragging Shadowheart over with her old teeth asking if she can put them back.

Lae’zel is amused (Gith definitely would also be able to regrow teeth, selectively bred warrior race and all) and uses the moment for one of her lovely little Githyanki supremacy tangents.

Sehkmet is just standing there, staring at the horizon in concern, like ‘You all don’t regrow teeth?!’ and thinking about how many belated apologies she needs to make

Karlach is still holding bloody teeth

Lae’zel and Shadowheart are fighting (flirting) again

Astarion is over by the cookout bugging Gale and watching the show

Gale and Wyll are still thinking at least they’re normal

the Emperor is still imploring you to eat a tadpole.

[gracemain919]

(Not sure if you will answer this, but I’m going to ask anyway sorry if it’s long :P)

I can only imagine the STRESS having to do with seven (eight if you count “the mother”) fungus infected Yandere’s (+a whole military complex) so here’s my question:

How will they react to Y/N having a mental breakdown?

(sorry if angs)

(Thanks for the ask:), and yeah. The problem with having a decent amount of characters is that I have so many things to write/draw about them, but don't know what would and will be liked/needed. Also hoped I captured a good enough vision of a mental breakdown. Don't know if that is what you wanted;-;)

(The Fungus universe)

Tw: Yandere, manipulation, slight abuse.

Oh dear… it was anticipated you would suffer a lot of pressure and fear being randomly rocked from your old life to this one. Tears tainting your once joyful face while you lock yourself away from any prying eyes, and taking out your anger on any who dared to try and enter.

How the leaders react:

The Liar: Expected. You are only human after all. Humans crack under the slightest change, unlike his own kind. Still with you gone… No. He can't let you screw over his plans. If you want sympathy, then you won't get it.

You can't cry forever, and to be honest he doesn't care enough to take action. Sure, hide away from your problems. See if he does something about it, dear.

Still, if he really had to fix it, it would only take a simple lie. Nothing more.

Poison: Hmm… That was quicker than expected. Some people can endure the pressure for longer periods of time. That’s too bad. Poison will try to get to the source of the problem. Through the closed door, providing more drug-like, artificial solutions than actual support. Since she knows the only thing that would truly bring you joy is your freedom, and well… she can't give you that.

The Cannibal: Oh, oh, oh. Fuck did he cause that? No, no. How did he- How…?!

Imagine a buffering browser, that is him at that moment.

He really does not know what to do or what to say to make you feel better;-;

Doppelganger: What? Really? You hiding away in tears? Good god, always knows how to push his buttons in the middle of practice.

“Dear, open the door, please… I promise I can help you”

Can he help you? He is pretty sure he can, even if the ‘how’ of the matter is quite blurry. He will try to persuade you with pretty words and promises, but if those don't work… well… haha. That door might need to be broken off.

Illusionist: Why are you hiding? Did… did they do something wrong? They did… but it was for the betterment of everyone. You gotta trust them. Please…

You might hear muffled pleas from the other side of the door as the humanoid insect tries to get you to come out. Cries that closely resemble a child begging for their parent.

“Please, do you feel lonely? We won't ever leave your side again we promise! Do you need to see something cute? We will give you cats, please! Come. Out!”

That’s the most they will do… well until they decide the Doppelganger might be a good person to help them out.

The Eye in the Sky: What? He is too busy for that, god. Fine.

It might feel like an insult when you hear a worker coming to your aid instead of the man himself. He’s busy god dammit. He doesn't have time for your temper tantrum.

The Priest: Oh that happened? That's truly awful… Don’t worry he will help.

Standing behind the door he will simply wait.

“Don't worry, dear. I understand this might seem like the end of the world. Take the time you need. I will be waiting until you decide to come out”

He is a patient man. He can wait for as long as you need, and if you decide to leave he will be more than happy to hold you in a loving embrace.

His wife on the other hand… will smile and nod, but her aching fingers can't help but visualize the pretty idea of tearing that damn door off. Why would anyone want to hide from them? Preposterous! They are sweet as angels.

(edit… I will KILL MYSELF. Like I keep forgetting my own fricking oc ‘Poison’ is mute;-;)

[sunny-lynn606]

I drew a BillFord piece based on a poem I wrote yesterday !!! Huzzah ! Also they're furries because CRINGE BUT FREE ! I think a white-necked raven perfectly fits Ford , so I had to ; plus , a sphinx cat is great for Bill. (Plus... Metaphors maybe... Since cats eat birds. Yeah)

TW: SUICIDAL IDEATION AND EYESTRAIN BELOW THE CUT

COMPLETED VERSION

I feel like pre-betrayal Bill and Ford were the type to initiate really deep conversations that lasted for hours. Did I mention these conversations would happen in the dead of night. They're fucking insane. Anyways.

I promise Ford has 6 fingers , but the thumbs are usually not visible in poses. There's a few mistakes in this , but I'm proud of it anyways... FINALLY.

Also , the bg DOES say stuff , but it's mostly covered. They're other lines from my poem I referenced (and wrote). The quote you'll see the most is " this was doomed from the start " however I know there's also " is this love or obsession " and maybe " there's vomit stuck in my throat . " There's more but I forgot which parts I used ☠️ good luck !!!!!!

FLAT COLORS

I actually hadn't done a colored drawing of Raven!Ford before , so I saved a flat color version of this for future use. In regards to Furry!Bill , I HAVE done colored drawings of him (but not with the trenchcoat) , so this was a good chance for me to have an easy ref.

LINEART

This was saved because I felt proud of the progress , I took a break after this stage , and I wanted to share this with people who were interested in my progress !

OFFICIAL SKETCH

This... Is a sketch I'm glad I made , but my GOD is it MESSY. Kind of an eyesore. Oh , this wasn't the first sketch btw , it was the second !!! The first is on paper and looks pretty different !

CONCEPT SKETCH

Ignore the 2019!Exousia sketch , we don't talk about that version of him (especially on a 2024 Gravity Falls post).

Due to the fact this is a used sketchbook , I didn't have much room to draw. Therefore , this sketch turned out to be cramped. The composition wasn't right , and I wanted to show Bill's eye. So I changed majority of this up. At least the idea was there !!!

THE POEM

Far from the full thing , because the poetry isn't based on BillFord. It's based on an abusive relationship I was in for a couple years. I'm okay , there's no need to ask. I'm a Stanford kinnie on copium is all.

ANYWAYS BYEEEE sorry for yapping so much IM BORED

[vir-tanadahl]

The Wolf's Redemption

Summary: Join Solas and Lavellan has they break free from the prison of regret and begin their work finding ways to soothe the anger of the Titans and the blight! Read on Ao3!

Chapter 5: The First Step Forward

The parchment trembled in Lavellan's hands as her eyes scanned Harding's elegant script. A smile bloomed on her face, relief washing over her.

"She's agreed to help us," Lavellan breathed, looking up at Solas. "Harding is back in Redcliffe helping with the recovery efforts. She said to meet her at the Gull and Lantern tavern."

Solas's violet eyes met hers, a storm of emotions swirling within their depths. His lips curved into a small, tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "That is…fortuitous," he said, his voice carefully measured. Lavellan's brow furrowed, recognizing the tension in his voice that he tried to hide. "You don't seem pleased,��vhenan. I thought this was what we wanted?" Her voice is laced with confusion.

Solas sighed, his shoulders tensing. "It is. I merely…” He hesitates for a moment, “I fear the judgment we may face. The consequences of my actions will not easily forgotten."

Lavellan reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. "We're in this together, Solas. Harding understands more than most. She'll hear us out." As she spoke, a glint of light caught her eye. Lavellan glanced down, her gaze falling on the prosthetic arm that had replaced the one she'd lost.

Rather, Solas took after the anchor was becoming increasing unstable, dangerous, and threatened her life. The Inquisition's symbol, etched into the metal, seemed to mock her with its familiarity. A surge of panic clenched her chest, sharp and unforgiving. "Fenedhis," she hissed under her breath, her thoughts spiraling. "The arm... it's too recognizable."

Solas leaned in, his gaze darkening as he studied the prosthetic with a pained intensity. Regret flickered behind his eyes, heavy and unspoken. Lavellan straightened, resolve hardening in her expression. "We need to fix this. Disguise it, alter it—replace it, if we must." Her mind raced, grasping at ideas that felt both impossible and necessary, each one more desperate than the last.

Solas gently hums in thought as he places his hand on her arm. "The Caretaker should be able to help," he assures her. Lavellan smiles and nods in agreement, saying, "I'll go speak with them now.”

Lavellan scurried away from Solas and out to the Caretaker's workshop. She hesitated before speaking, her voice catching in the stillness. "Caretaker," she said softly, her tone laced with urgency, "I need your help." Raising her prosthetic arm, the engraved symbol of the Inquisition caught the spectral light, gleaming like an accusation. The weight of its presence was suffocating. "This... it’s too recognizable," she continued, her voice steadying. "I need something that won’t give me away—something discreet."

The Caretaker turned, their form shifting slightly like a breeze stirring a still pond. Their voice, calm and layered with depth, resonated through the space. "A limb, forged in need. A symbol, etched in time. Both carry weight unseen." Their glowing eyes lingered on the prosthetic as if peering beyond its surface. "Change is required, dweller. The arm you bear draws eyes, and eyes bring peril. Yet, the metal holds purpose. A thread, unraveled, can be rewoven." They gestured slowly, their hand tracing invisible patterns in the air.

"Can you help?" Lavellan asked.

The Caretaker tilted their head, the light around them flickering like a fading memory. "Help. A small word for a vast need. The limb you seek must not merely replace but transform,” their voice drifted, calm and resonant, as if carried on unseen currents. They extended a hand, tracing a shimmering outline in the air, the gesture heavy with meaning. "Metal and magic. Memory and purpose. These threads must be woven anew. But the shape it takes will depend on what you offer in return." Their glowing gaze fixed on Lavellan, unblinking.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lavellan responds hestitantly as she hands the prosthetic to the Caretaker who is floating in their workshop.

The Caretaker took the prosthetic with a slow, deliberate motion, their fingers brushing the metal as though reading the story it carried. The air around them seemed to hum, the faint glow of their form intensifying as they turned the limb over in their hands. "Yes, dweller. But not as you mean it." They drifted to a central space in the workshop, where strands of light wove themselves into intricate patterns, forming a suspended, ethereal loom.

The prosthetic hovered between their hands, caught in the threads of light. "This limb speaks of loss. Of survival. The Inquisition’s mark is burned into its bones. Such weight cannot simply be removed. It must be remade." Their voice deepened, resonant with the gravity of the task. "Metal forged in purpose. Threads of need, unwound. Magic, woven with care. What was, now becomes what is needed." As they worked, the prosthetic shifted, reshaped by unseen forces.

Metal melted and reformed, flowing like water; light poured into its edges, binding it with power. The once-recognizable design faded, replaced by something elegant and otherworldly—a creation both functional and untraceable.

"A new arm for a new path. But remember, dweller—what you carry will always mark you." They turned, the newly forged prosthetic hovering before Lavellan, gleaming with subtle light. "Take it. Let it serve, but do not let it define. A journey is shaped not by what you bear, but by how you bear it."

"It will seem as flesh," the Caretaker intoned, their voice rippling with timeless resonance. "A mirror of what was taken, yet not bound by illusion alone."

Lavellan watched as the magical prosthetic seamlessly melded with her existing arm, indistinguishable from her real limb. "Thank you," she breathed, flexing her new fingers in wonder. As she turned to leave, the Caretaker’s voice drifted after her, soft yet resonant. "Strength is not in the seeming, dweller. It is forged in the becoming."

Lavellan nodded, the weight of those words settling in her chest as she made her way back to Solas. She found him pacing, his lean frame taut with tension, violet eyes clouded with worry. "Vhenan," she called softly, drawing his attention.

Solas turned, his gaze immediately drawn to her new arm. "Remarkable," he murmured, reaching out to touch it before pulling back, his hand trembling slightly. Lavellan noticed his unease, the way his shoulders hunched as if bearing an invisible burden. "Solas, what troubles you?"

He exhaled a shaky breath, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "Harding. The thought of standing before her... of facing the weight of what I have done…"

Lavellan's heart ached at the vulnerability in Solas's voice. She stepped closer, gently taking his trembling hand in hers.

"Vhenan," she said softly, her warm eyes meeting his troubled gaze. "I understand your hestitation, but facing our past is the only way to move forward."

Solas’s brow furrowed, tension shadowing his features. "How can I stand before her, knowing the pain I have caused... the destruction I have unleashed?"

Lavellan squeezed his hand, her voice filled with quiet determination. "Because you are not that person anymore. You have chosen a different path, one of redemption." She reached up, cupping his cheek with her newly crafted hand. Solas leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly. "Remember," Lavellan continued, "Harding agreed to meet us. That alone shows she's willing to listen, to understand."

Solas opened his eyes, a flicker of hope battling the doubt within them. "And if she cannot forgive?"

"Then we face that together," Lavellan replied firmly. "But we must try. Our mission is too important to let fear hold us back."

A moment passed, tension palpable in the air. Then, almost imperceptibly, Solas nodded. "You are right," he said, his voice gaining strength. "I cannot change the past, but I can still shape what is to come. We will meet Harding."

Lavellan's face relaxed into a smile, feeling the comforting release of tension. While she was prepared to meet with Harding on her own, she understood that Solas needed to be there.

***

Lavellan's hands shook slightly as she prepared for their journey, wrapping her fingers around the lyrium dagger. Its surface was cool and pulsing with a soft blue light. She shared a significant look with Solas, who nodded in support.

"Ready, vhenan?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She took a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."

With practiced precision, Lavellan traced the intricate pattern of the Vir'Revas in the air before them. The dagger left a shimmering trail of magic, forming an elaborate old elven sigil. As the final line connected, the air crackled with energy. Solas placed his hand on the small of her back. "Now, focus on unlocking the eluvian." He whispers. She did as she was told and the Vir’Revas unlocked allowing them access back into the Crossroads.

Lavellan's face lit up with a bright smile, her eyes shining with excitement as she looked up at Solas. She couldn't help but bounce slightly on her feet as the eluvian to unlock and come back to life.

Solas' chuckle filled the air, his own smile mirroring hers as he watched with pride as Lavellan successfully unlocked the Vir'Revas.

Lavellan waves the lyrium dagger, causing the blade to retract before handing it back to Solas. He steps through the eluvian first, with Lavellan following closely behind. They find themselves back at the Crossroads and Solas leads them to a boat where the Caregiver materializes to ferry them to their destination island.

Once on the island, Solas takes them to the necessary eluvian and effortlessly activates it with the dagger before they walk through once more. They were standing amidst crumbling pillars and statues overgrown with flora and fauna. They quietly make their way out of the ruins and begin making their way towards Redcliffe.

As they made their way through the untamed Hinterlands, Lavellan's thoughts were racing. "Do you think Harding will be able to provide us with contacts among the Grey Wardens?" she asked, brushing away a low-hanging branch. While Lavellan was confident that Harding would have connections, she couldn't help but feel anxious about it.

Solas's brow furrowed. "More than likely,” He responds, but then his voice drops low as to not draw more attention to himself. The closer they got to Redcliffe, the more Lavellan's stomach knotted with anticipation. Every snapping twig made her jump, every rustle of leaves had her scanning for potential threats.

"Something weighs on you," Solas observed, his own posture tense. Lavellan let out a nervous laugh. "Is it that obvious?” She murmured, “what if Harding can't offer us any help? What if she turns us away?" She had been trying to appear confident after Solas confided in her about his reservations regarding their upcoming encounter with Harding.

Solas's eyes softened. "Then we find another way," he responded. As they approached the outskirts of Redcliffe, Lavellan's heart began to race with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The once grand town had fallen on hard times.

Buildings lay in various states of disrepair, some still under construction, while others showed signs of blight damage on their walls and roofs. Lavellan took a deep breath to steady herself, reminding herself of their purpose for being there. With one final exchange of resolute glances, they continued towards the Gull and Lantern, feeling the weight of their mission and the thought of reuniting with Harding after years apart lingering in the air.

The heavy wooden door of the Gull and Lantern creaked open, admitting Lavellan and Solas into a cacophony of clinking tankards and raucous laughter. Lavellan's eyes darted beneath her hood, taking in the crowded tavern. Smoke from the hearth mingled with the scent of ale and sweat, creating a haze that clung to the rafters.

"This way," Lavellan murmured, guiding Solas towards a secluded corner table. Her heart raced beneath her cloak, every face a potential threat. As they settled onto rough-hewn benches, she leaned close to Solas. "Do you see her?" she asked. Solas's lips barely moved as he replied, "Not yet. But we should take care not to draw attention." A barmaid approached, her apron stained with spilled ale. "What'll it be, then?"

Lavellan forced a smile. "Two ales, please." As the woman bustled away, Lavellan knew neither of them would drink the ale. The tavern door swung open again, and Lavellan's breath caught. There, silhouetted against the fading daylight, stood Lace Harding.

The dwarf's keen eyes scanned the room, a tentative smile playing on her lips. Lavellan's fingers twitched, longing to wave, but caution stayed her hand. Instead, she watched as recognition dawned on Harding's face. The scout made her way through the crowd with practiced ease.

"It's good to see you," Harding said warmly as she reached their table, her gaze fixed on Lavellan. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Both of you."

Lavellan felt Solas stiffen beside her. "Harding," he acknowledged, his voice carefully neutral.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Lavellan admitted, gesturing for Harding to sit. As Harding settled across from them, her smile faltered slightly. "Truthfully, I wasn't sure I would either. But…well, old loyalties die hard."

Lavellan's heart swelled with gratitude, even as she noted the way Harding's eyes kept flicking warily to Solas. 'This might be more complicated than I thought,' she realized, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. Harding took a seat. “I must say, I was surprised to receive a letter addressed from you, Inquisitor,” she says in a lower voice before adding, “It’s been two years.”

“I’ve told you to call me by my name,” Lavellan smiles. “It’s good to see you again, Lace,” Lavellan tells her, her voice warm. “How is your mother? How have the recovery efforts been?” she inquires.

“Oh habits, I guess!” Harding says with a laugh, her face brightens with a warm smile. "Ma’s doing well! She was pretty happy to have me home." She chuckles softly, but her tone shifts as she adds, "The rebuilding’s been tough…but we’re getting there."

Harding hesitates before asking, "And...how have things been between you two?" She looks back and forth between Lavellan and Solas. Lavellan hums thoughtfully and turns to look at Solas. "We've been doing well," she responds softly. "We recently returned…," she adds vaguely, not wanting to mention out loud that they had just come back from the Fade in the tavern.

“Oh?” Harding tilts her head, catching on to what Lavellan meant. “Really?” She pauses, leaning in with a curious glint in her eye and lowering her voice. “Alright, spill it. Your letter didn’t exactly give much away.”

Lavellan exchanged a quick glance with Solas, carefully weighing her words. "As you know, we are…he is…," she voice trailed off but her tone measured, her hands gesturing as a way to complete the sentence. Harding nods, her face solemn. "I remember," she says. "To soothe the situation, you know—hold on…" Suddenly, she stands up and makes her way back to the barmaid, exchanging a few quietly before the barmaid hands her a key.

Returning to the group, Harding motions for them to follow her to a private room in the tavern where they can speak freely. As they enter the room and close the door behind them, Harding sighs with a smile.

“That’s better. Now we can talk freely,” Harding said warmly as she makes her way to sit on the strongbox in the room. “What were you saying?” Harding encourages them to continue. Lavellan nodded. “We are—he is…” her words are getting jumbled for a moment, “We need your help,” Lavellan finally landed on.

Harding nodded, casting a wary gaze to Solas. “Okay,” Harding hummed out. Solas shifted beside Lavellan, his discomfort palpable. Lavellan goes to press on, but Harding stops her. “Why don’t we let Solas tell me,” she suggested her request gently. Lavellan nods silently before turn her gaze to Solas. She can see his guard is up.

Solas sits quietly for a moment, as he carefully thought of what he was going to say. “Harding…” he begins, “I am sorry.”

“For what, Solas?” Harding demanded, her tone sharp, cutting through the charged air. Her voice carried an edge, a mix of anger and disbelief. “Betraying the Inquisitor and breaking her heart? Trying to tear down the Veil? Killing Varric?” She pressed forward, her words hitting like daggers. “Using blood magic to twist Rook’s mind and then betraying her?” Her frustration flared, her voice rising with each accusation. “Or maybe you’re sorry for destroying the Titans’ spirits, stripping our dreams from us, and creating the darkspawn?”

Solas didn’t flinch under her assault, though his shoulders stiffened under the weight of her words. When he finally spoke, his response was simple, unadorned, and brutally honest. “Yes, I am.”

The starkness of his admission was almost absurd, an answer so brief it bordered on comical, yet the sincerity in his voice left no room for doubt. He didn’t elaborate—perhaps because he couldn’t, or perhaps because no words could truly atone for what he had done.

Harding’s glare hardened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “Then why are you here?” she spat, her voice harsh and unyielding, the betrayal she felt etched into every syllable.

Before the tension could spiral further, Lavellan cleared her throat, the quiet sound drawing their attention. “Lace,” she began, her voice soft but steady, a stark contrast to the volatile emotions in the room. She met Harding’s furious gaze with a calm, measured expression. “I cannot excuse the harm he’s caused,” she said gently, her words careful and deliberate, “but may I explain what we’ve been working toward these past two years?”

Harding turned her attention to Lavellan, her expression softening as she nodded for her to continue.

"We were trapped in the Fade for those two years while Solas confronted his…" Lavellan paused, searching for the right words, "his many regrets from his lifetime. But that was just the beginning of the journey he promised to embark on, which is why we are here now."

Harding seemed to relax a little bit more. “You know, Inquisitor,” Harding hummed, “You always had a way with speaking to people, to get them to calm and listen.” Harding turns her attention back to Solas, still weary of him, but more open to what he has to say. Lavellan smiled, turn to look at Solas. Solas nodded silently. “Lavellan shared that you bonded with a Titan’s shade and soothed its pain and anger through compassion.”

“Yes,” Harding nodded. "It was unlike anything I've ever experienced," Harding continued, her eyes distant with memory. "The Titan... it communicated with me. Not with words, but with feelings, images. And then, the most amazing thing happened."

“I remember everything that the Evanuris did to the Titans…” Harding said sadly as she begins to recite from memory from her moment with the Titan. “You took everything from us, and you thought you won. But we’re still here. We’re different, but we’re not gone. We will thrive—in spite of you.”

Solas bowed his head in acknowledgement of the pain. Lavellan stepped closer to him, gently touching his back to provide support and comfort.

“I remember your letter also saying you ran into uncorrupted red lyrium and after you left, that lyrium went back to normal?” She asked Harding.

Harding nodded solemnly, her voice heavy with emotion as she responded, “Yes, it did,” She answers. “I think the disembodied rage of the Titans had nowhere else to go, so it took root in the heart. And the red lyrium extended from there, her pain infecting what as left of the Titan’s body. When I accepted that rate into myself, it cleansed it from the mountain.”

Lavellan's breath caught. "How is that possible?"

Harding shook her head, wonder evident in her expression. "I'm not entirely sure. But I felt it. The Titan's pain, its determination to heal. It was like…like the land itself was fighting back against the anger…like it wanted to be heard."

Lavellan and Solas exchange glanced. “Why? What are you trying to do?” Harding asked.

“Well,” Lavellan sighed, “Right now, we’re just trying to gather information—figure out what we can actually do,” she said, glancing over at Harding. “We were also wondering if you might have any contacts with the Grey Wardens who’d be willing to talk about the Blight?”

“Oh! You know, I’ve got just the contact you need for the Grey Wardens!” Harding said with a bright smile. “They’ve been digging into the Blight ever since the fall of the Elven Gods.” She leaned in slightly, her excitement shifting to a more thoughtful tone.

Solas spoke once more, his tone measured. “Will you help us, then?”

Harding crossed her arms, her gaze steady but cautious. "You’re asking me to help you," she said, her tone measured, almost skeptical.

Then, after a moment, a faint smile tugs at her lips. "You know, Varric always said there was hope for you—right up until the very end. I’d like to think he wasn’t wrong." She paused, her voice softening. "So… yeah, I’ll help." Harding's freckled face scrunched in thought, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. "The are two Wardens are Evka and Antoine. They've been deep into Blight research."

Lavellan's heart quickened. "Where can we find them?"

"Last I heard, they were operating out of an old Warden outpost in the Anderfels," Harding replied. "But, I will send them letters."

Lavellan glanced at Solas, noting the subtle nod of agreement. She looked back to Harding. "There's someone else who might be able to help us. Dagna. Her expertise with lyrium and magical artifacts could be invaluable, especially when it comes to understanding the corrupted lyrium."

Harding's eyes lit up with recognition. "Dagna! Of course! That brilliant little nugget could probably turn rocks into gold if she put her mind to it." She chuckled, then grew more serious. "You're right, her knowledge would be perfect for this. Last I knew, she was working on some hush-hush project for the University of Orlais, but I can certainly help track her down."

"Thank you, Lace," Lavellan said warmly. "Your help means more than you know."

Harding gives a small, genuine smile. "Aw, come on, don’t get all mushy on me," she says with a playful tone. Then, with a hint of sincerity, she adds, "But… thanks. It’s nice to know it makes a difference."

Harding studied him for a moment, her expression cautious but not unkind. "You asking for help? That’s… new," she said with a small, wry smile. Then her tone softens, a glimmer of hope in her voice. "But it’s a good step, I’ll give you that. Let’s just make sure it’s worth it, yeah?"

Solas inclined his head slightly, a flicker of acknowledgment in his gaze, and a small faint smile on his face. "A fair observation,” Solas paused for a moment, “It is new, yes. But if I am to make amends, I must start by asking for help, even from those I have wronged. Thank you for giving me that chance..."

Lavellan reached across the table, grasping Harding's hand in a gesture of sincere gratitude. "Truly, Harding, we couldn't have hoped for a better ally."

Harding's eyes softened at Lavellan's touch, a mix of emotions flickering across her freckled face. "Well," she said, her voice thick with feeling, "I suppose some bonds can't be broken, even after all this time." She squeezed Lavellan's hand before releasing it.

[sashkapi]

This is my first time sending you an ask because I was shy, but I was just binge-scrolling your profile (again), and I just wanna say never apologize for making more beautiful content about kbsd, especially the kindall ones :'3

Like, mygosh, you have no idea how many times your updates have made my day because I am also STARVING for kbsd and kindall content kebdjshwjdbsjsjc You're honestly such a blessing for that special place in my heart reserved for just kindall HAHAHAHAHA Like damn, where you've been after all these years T-T

But anyway, I super love your headcanons about kindall, and also just kbsd in general. I wanna ask you so many stuff like how tall do you think Kick would be compared to Kendall when they grow older? Do you think Hansel would like Kick when Kindall finally gets a little closer to the friendship side of things or will Hansel be super overprotective over Kendall and basically hate Kick' guts lol ALSO, what do you think of Kendall and Gunther as friends? Or their dynamic as fellow class officers? It's been a while, but I remember there being an episode where Gunther won as president to the student council I think? And like, I'm lowkey sad that this wasn't ever mentioned or referenced again in another episode. Because on one hand, I do think Gunther is smart in certain aspects and this is a good way for him to show it, BUT ALSO, IMAGINE IF KENDALL SHOWED GUNTHER THE ROPES FOR ALL THESE STUDENT COUNCIL STUFF AND THAT'S HOW THEY GOT A LITTLE CLOSER AS FRIENDS? Sorry for the all-caps, I just think it'd be super cute if there was more content about the other friendships and connections between the side characters (especially for Kendall, cause I remember her celebrating her birthday alone on that one episode where Kick babysits Oscar I think, AND THAT'S JUST SO SAD AND SHE DESERVES BETTER)

But anyway, sorry for the super long and messy brain dump hahaha, but endpoint to all of this, just wanna say that I love the content you make and I'm super excited to see your other headcanons and comics. That's all, thank you so much for all that you do and I wanna send you virtual hugs (with consent) <33 Byeee!

Me, after I red this ask /pos

KSJDJFKDFJGK PLEASE I"M SO HAPPY I MADE SOMEONE HAPPY WITH MY SILL KBSD ART I SWEAR IT SO AAAAAAAA

Ok i'm gonna put the rest under the cut because OH I HAVE A LOT TO SAY

I actually drew their designs for like mid/late twenties for a quick joke and didn't put as much thought into that BUT KJGKDJFGJK

Ok so adult Kindall

I feel a bit embarrassed by just how strong of a grip those two have on me but chvyf I'm still gonna make content with them of course >:D

Also

We stan short king ayooooooooo

About Hansel and Kick

I like the idea that she's not overprotective over Kendall or likes Kick right away but a secret third thing: sees him as a rival for the rank of awesome's first place. Like whenever he visits Kendall Hasel goes "aight boy, square up!" And just starts acting cute and adorable because that what somewhat gave her first place in the past.

Her cuteness doesn't work on Kick of course but Kendall? She already loves Hansel very much so whenever Hansel "competes" with Kick by rolling on the floor or rubbing against Kendall's legs you know that Kendall will be borderline crying from how adorable her kitty is.

The fact that cat can easily take all of Kendall's attention like that doesn't makes Kick mad tho. But he sure is irritated by that. Frustrated even.

GUNTHER AND KENDALL'S FRIENDSHIP IS SOMETHING THAT I THOUGHT ABOUT ADGCJVJV

Hansel counts that as a win btw jfnfnnfkfk

Before this ask I just thought that they're neutral. Not friends, Gunther is also kinda wary of her but generally sees her as just a classmate. BUT YEAH THAT EPISODE ABOUT ELECTION. IT WOULD BE FUNNY IF THAT WAS AT LEAST MENTIONED BUT AAAAAAA

Now I kinda like the idea that Kendall was scheming to take Gunther's place after the episode. However, Gunther kinda realized that student council position? Not very hype. Barely any time to hang out. So Gunther genuinely asked Kendall for help. Like, Jacky is wack (affectionate) but Kendall is pretty much known for her love for the rules and academics so it's only logical. And at first Kendall wanted to use that to completely "overthrow" him but Gunther, being an absolute lovable funny guy he is, made her go "Ok, you can stay actually"

I like the idea that Kendall keeps Gunther from turning the school into a Nordic funny land and Gunther keeps her from turning the school into a literal prison. It's a win win situation

ALSO I TOO WISH THERE WAS MORE ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN CHARACTERS SVJVJBL

It's kinda implied that Mouth and Ronaldo are friends. Ronaldo had goons too (where did they go :( ) Also I really warming up to the idea that Kyle and Jackie became chaotic besties or even romantic partners (sorry Gunther x Jackie people, but Kyle x Jackie has more comedic potential to me)

I also wanted to see Kendall interact with more with her peers like jjdjgnjdndjfjck even if not friendly, just lemme see my girl being a menace

JFJJCJC PLEASE YOUR ASK LIGHTEN MY DAYS SO MUCH LIKE I CANT PLEASE KNOW THAT I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS ASK EVERY DAY SINCE I GOT IT

IM SO SORRY FOR LATE REPLY I WAS BUSY BUT SHGUFYCHV NOW ONCE IM GETTING MORE FREE TIME IM MAKING MORE CONTENT ABOUT THIS SILLY LIL DARDEVIL BOY

(Please know I am returning that virtual hug :) )

[butterfilledpockets]

I am sending huggy leos after my mutuals <3

spacetime continuum be damned- hugs are very much apreciated :D

had so much fun drawing your leo!!! Them big 'ol eyes

(sorry if this looks a little fucked I am sick as shit rn)

[quirkle2]

space/saturn imagery ritsu i love you

[carlyraejepsans]

Do you enjoy underfell? I thought you disliked aus /genq

i don't dislike the concept of AUs itself, I'm just not a fan of like... the subculture that spawned around them in the UT fandom specifically and how it eventually took over almost all canon content (especially when it limits itself to the bros)

i like aus visually! i am an artist at heart after all. it's just that, if I'm going to care about them as stories and not just fun design ideas, my bar is uhh almost impossibly high the further you move from canon lolol.

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[puppyeared]

fuck it. plaguesona

[doc-is-sometimes-in-places]

May I have a doc with a scar

[post 20] I wasn't sure if you wanted me to give Doc a scar or a GoodTimeWithScar, so I did both!

I also decided to do a limited palette because why not-

[wr0ngwarp]

um. uh. hi every body. something evil and malevolent happened in my brain this month.

this is. um. a Jet Set Radio/Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Death joke AU, spawned out of a in-joke that started in a pokepasta discord. my apologies to both the pokepasta and jsr fandoms

the entire basis is the idea that Corn in Future retconned og JSR Beat as leader/founder of the GGs (is beat being leader in the og even CANON?) so Corn and Beat are the Myras. no it's not a joke funny enough to justify how many hours i sunk into drawing these. no attempt was made to change the setting, assign most of the other cast, or otherwise make this au hold up to ANY amount of scrutiny. if i tried to make this actually work somehow then i'd REALLY end up too far gone. also i keep calling myrtle!beat "Meat".

MEANWHILE, IN A BETTER UNIVERSE:,

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

i hope yer happy with yourself YURI CAUSE CROSS HERE MUSTVE HAD HER SPEAR AND STABBED MY HEART AND THEN PULLED IT OUT TO KEEP IN HER TROPHY ROOM OF HEARTS SHE HAD STOLEN /LHJ

overall, tiddies rating 10/10

DAMN ten outta ten??? she wouldn't know what to do with all this flattery dude cmoon HHGFSHGF fr fr waaa thank youuuu >:'D <333333

[lightningfilledsaber]

I really need to plan holiday themed art in advance

[peapod20001]

HURGH. hi sorry I'm in your inbox again. where did Mace Come From.. like ik we know Felix's papa nd all but what about MACE'S background.....

first thought was: "haha yeah he's another blondee child"

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR BEING IN MY INBOX. I LOVE YOU. THIS IS YOUR SECOND HOME ❤️ also that Blondee thought is funny as FUCK I literally have to restrain myself from making that a thing cus it is literally not plausible 😭

But!!! Mace grew up in foster care and went between different homes! He never knew either of his parents, but he had been told some things about his momma-

His dad was some clown guy and his momma is a reaper. His mom was young when she had him and was into some drugs, so he was taken away when he was a baby.

The last home he was in wasn’t the best for him, they got pretty annoyed with him and would get freaked out when he talked to himself and low key feared that he might hurt them (which would be understandable if he was as big as he is now, but he was kinda scrawny then) he ran away from that home without any sort of plan and that’s how he came to meet SF