#idk if you remember that post i made a little bit ago where i was like. a Really Fucking Big Life Changing Thing happened to me that's rlly

[bewitched-hours]

HI !!!!! hello !!!!!! idk if youre still not up to playing forsaken but id love to hop in with you !! i dont bite :-) unrelated :: but can i have a friend elliot x reader drabble .. anything works out !! thats if you take reqs for skins ^_^

Honestly, that would sound nice but maybe you have a server to introduce me to lol? (honestly wouldn't mind it either way so you can friend me on discord if you want;@lochness8385) As for your request, I'd be delighted to! I have the fandom wiki open on the side(which I know might get me some side-eyes lol) and looked up which skin that is and by the stars, you requested my favourite one(I first saw the skin while watching a friend play and I thought it looked cute, especially with me being a JSAB fan) I also looked up the meaning of a drabble and it's an interesting challenge! Though, I'll just make it to under 500 words instead of exactly 100 (ᇂ_ᇂ|||)

As usual, the reader's pronouns will be She/Her!

You were content with this.

You didn’t even know how long you’ve been holding Sad Cube but you wanted to make sure they were okay.

Despite their face always seeming to be on the verge of crying, you found it easy to see what they felt.

It felt more intimate than it probably was…

Nonetheless, you were here. You were holding them after a particularly rough round where you had snapped at the other survivors for stressing Sad Cube out and afterwards took them straight to your cabin.

They began crying almost immediately in your arms and had been going until a few minutes ago.

You were simply happy that they’ve found comfort in you. 

You knew what it was like to be so stressed. Your family had made sure of that.

But now wasn’t the time to remember them. For now you were focused on Sad Cube.

You’ve been focused on them for quite a while, even catching yourself daydreaming and sneaking glances between rounds as your heart always felt warmer with them around. It was sweet and innocent. Exactly what you had always hoped for.

But were you strong enough to tell them? To admit you wanted more than you were offered? Not right now obviously but maybe after a victorious round.

For now, you just hoped that you could keep your heart calm enough for them not to realize how you felt…

“You’re always there for me, [Reader]... Thank you…” Oh, how your heart fluttered at those simple words. You just wanted nothing more than to give them soft little kisses all over their face and-

“I feel a bit guilty… Always having to be the one to receive and not give…” wait wha- “It’s not fair to you…”

“Cube, it’s fine. You do the same for me when I need to vent, remember?” You made sure to stay quiet and gentle, trying to mask your affection. 

“Still, you’re always there to help and stand up for me when I get overwhelmed… I feel like I should thank you somehow…” You couldn’t help but grin at their works, tempted to suggest a kiss before pulling yourself back to reality. “It’s fine, really. There’s nothing more valuable to me than knowing you’re-” 

You cut yourself off as they suddenly sat up, their face mere inches from yours which made your face flush uncontrollably and your heart race. You didn’t dare to speak but before you could even think about it, their lips met yours in a gentle embrace. They were obviously being careful to leave you room to pull away but you didn’t dare to, instead choosing to tenderly hold their face to return the gesture.

Maybe your fears were silly after all…

Word count: 455 (It was hard to make it so short-)

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[peanutalergy]

Saw you asking for requests^^ been thinking about spencer and his fear of dogs, what about reader who had a dog before they met and the dog like, saved her from some sort of assault so shes obviously very attached. The dog is really well trained and stuff, but hes still a bit afraid of it?

Idk i just see cat dad spence all the time and i love dogs sooo

tags: fluff, established relationship, bau!reader, I totally pictured this as early season spencer, mentions of death related to dog attacks

w/c: 1k

a/n: I'm so so so insanely sorry for having taken so long to do this req and also for not having posted much recently, school's been killing me and I'm just not doing too well, but whatever I'm sorry. also I don't know if this is exactly what you meant sorry if it's not. ALSO I've never had a dog before, so I'm sorry if this is out of... character... for the... dog..?

“why have i never been to your apartment?” your boyfriend asks as you walk out the bullpen, having just made plans to drive you both to his, “you're over at my place all the time, but you've never let me come over. why is that?”

“i have a dog, spence.” you answer, wrapping a hand around his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder as soon as the elevator doors close in front of you.

“i've seen the fur all over your sweaters, i know you do. why would that be a problem?”

“she's a hundred pound rottweiler and you were scared of petting a baby golden retriever a while ago.”

“i wasn't scared. i was just… careful. do you know how many accidents happen each year because of poorly trained large dogs?”

“that poor puppy clearly wouldn't have been able to hurt you if he tried his very best. you were scared.”

“people really shouldn't trust puppies as much as they do. they're rarely ever as well trained as adult dogs can be, and their size doesn't–”

“that's why i didn't think you should meet cupcake, honey.” you cut him off gently with a small chuckle.

“she's named cupcake?”

“yeah, like, formally. but we just call her baby or something, no one does the full name.”

“you do realize that dog is able to kill you at any given point, right? rottweilers are one of the most dangerous dog breeds in the world. she's almost your size, and her name is cupcake?”

you look at him with a smile as you start walking towards the parking lot, “i could also kill you at any given point. doesn't mean i can't be cute like that.”

“you couldn't kill me with your teeth like a dog could.”

“don't be silly, sweetheart. she's the biggest sweet little baby in the world. she'd never kill me or anyone i don't seem to not trust.”

“oh, so you do think it's okay for me to meet her?”

“well, no, i didn't say that. she wouldn't attack you, i just think you'd be scared for your life.”

“i wouldn't. i'm not scared, i won't be. please, i want to meet her.”

before you can deny again, he looks at you with those big, brown, pleading eyes, and a pout to which you can't say no, that face that scares you if you think about what it could get you to do.

with a roll to your eyes as you get into the car, you start telling him the directions to your apartment—he already knew and remembered them from when he'd pick you up or drop you off and you'd never let him in, but he wouldn't point that out when you'd cut off what you were talking about to say oh, take the left right here.

even though you want to not like this, to not want him to be in a situation you know he's fearful of, you can't help but find it heartwarming. spencer reid, your favorite man, meeting your favorite girl, in your apartment, your favorite place, for the very first time.

it's exciting, and it only got more so when you start telling him about how and when and where and why you got cupcake, and all the funny or sweet things she does.

“how do you even sleep with a dog that big?” he asks with a chuckle after you tell him about how cuddly she is.

“uncomfortably so.”

────୨ৎ────

turning your key on the lock, cupcake's excitement is audible from outside, her long nails hitting the floor as she walks around in front of the door and pants loudly, waiting for you to come in.

as soon as you're inside, the poor dog is running up to you, trying to lick kiss all over your face when you kneel down in front of her to pet her. meanwhile, spencer stands in the hallway, awkwardly clutching his bag strap as he watches you and the dog in visible fear.

“come in, sweetheart.” you say to him while you laugh, not looking back at him, but knowing he's afraid of walking in, “she won't even mind you, i swear.”

almost falling back as you get attacked by her kisses before you stand up and turn to look at him, she sits at your feet while you pat her head and give him a smile.

despite you pretending not to be bothered by it, some part of you is, too, now actually scared of your dog lashing out and attacking him like he said she would. she's always been so sweet to your friends when you have girl nights, but just like her mother (you), she doesn't trust men.

spencer takes a careful step toward the door, and when she notices his presence, cupcake stares at him for a moment during which you're foolishly convinced she's about to jump at him.

however, when you look down at her with a smile and take his hand as he walks in, she immediately relaxes and it's clear that whatever threat she saw coming from him isn't there anymore. within a second, she's at his legs, panting again as she begs for his own attention.

almost stumbling over her, he walks into the apartment completely so that you can close the door, and he chuckles as she follows him to the couch, “i'm suprised she hasn't started barking yet.”

you go to sit down next to him after locking the door, but cupcake takes your spot at his left before you can even try it. instead, you sit at his other side with a scoff after he mumbles, “dogs never like me like this.”

he awkwardly gives her the pats she's so desperately begging for, petting her head in the same way a kid sits at the oven and tries to cook something while mom watches so no one gets burnt, “well, she's never really liked any man before, so i'm surprised, too.”

“i've never had any sort of animal be so eager about me before.” he mutters as you lie your head on his shoulder.

you let out a small hum in response, giving one side of her face gentle scratches as he does the same to the other side.

“she trusts you because she knows i do, i guess.” you say after a beat, looking at the two of them with a small smile, “loves you almost as much as her mommy does.”

he glances back at you with a flustered chuckle, shaking his head before looking back at the dog who's just laid her own head on his lap.

“and she seems to see you as her daddy, now, so...” you add softly with another quiet giggle, “i'm afraid you'll have to become a pet dad, as well.”

“mm, not complaining”

after that day, it was only a matter of time before he moved in with you two, and from then on, you weren't the only one cursed with the fur-filled sweaters, and he became a bit less afraid of all the other large animals he was previously terrified of.

[miedei]

saw your post about wanting to write a one off and was thinking spencer buys reader a cute gift or something ‘just because’ or he saw it and thought of her and she’s like completely taken aback and happy and idk its short but fluffy

you angel i love this!!

set this in a newly established relationship because i said so

.8k, new bf spencer buys you a gift out of nowhere

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

Toeing open your front door, you sigh contentedly. It's the first evening this week that you have something to look forward to, and it's giddy, the feeling you get.

The texts you exchanged with Spencer pop up when you unlock your phone, and you smile dopily at it. The first was sent two hours ago:

SPENCER!: Just made it back to the office. We'll be here for a little while. Can I go over to your place afterward?

And then, ten minutes after the first one:

SPENCER!: I hope it's okay I asked that. I haven't seen you in a while.

You had texted him back immediately, giving him the go-ahead to meet you at your apartment when you got home, and now you can't wait, busying yourself with chores to make the time pass faster.

You're puttering around your kitchen when the three distinctive knocks that you've come to recognise as Spencer's ring out through the space. Opening the door, a smile creeps onto your face at the sight of him.

He's clearly frazzled, hair messy and shirt wrinkled, but he looks so soft. You can't help but reach up on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, if only to see the flush rise up his neck as you do so.

"I missed you." You lead him into the living room, watching him set down his go bag and look down at you.

"I missed you too. I'm glad... Glad I could come see you tonight."

A thrill runs up your spine at the sight of him, standing in your home with no (okay, maybe a little) nerves. Every time you see him here it feels like the space bends around him, inviting him in until it feels like he belongs here.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him down to the couch, sitting next to him at a calculated distance. Not too far where you can't touch him, but still far enough that your brain won't be overwhelmed by his proximity.

You're little apprehensive, the first time you see Spencer after some time apart, wondering if the chemistry between you would fade after the distance. However, you're quickly proven wrong, conversation flowing so freely that it takes a couple hours for Spencer to remember what he wanted to do when he got here.

You've both shifted, your feet tucked up under you and your side pressed against his, when he finally remembers, straightening up against you.

"I have something for you!" You look up at him quizzically, confused at the suddenness of his comment. He holds your shoulders gently (albeit with quite a bit of blushing), angling you so that you're not leaning on him anymore. It allows him to stand up, rifling through his leather satchel until he finds it.

It's a small cuboid package, wrapped in brown paper. You shift on the couch, setting your feet on the floor so you can look at him as he settles next to you again.

"What is this?" At the sound of your words, he presses the package into your hands.

"When we finished the case, Elle showed me a bookstore near the precinct that we were at. I found some books I was looking for, and also..." He trails off, gesturing at the package in your lap. "Open it."

As you carefully unwrap the paper, you can see his hands fidgeting in his lap, sending a rush of affection through you.

"Spencer, you really didn't have to get me anything, I'm just happy you're- oh my god." The paper pulls apart to reveal a clothbound copy of Emma by Jane Austen, your favourite book of all time.

Running your hand over the beautiful book, you look up at him, eyes full of emotion.

"You got this for me?" He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You showed me your copy a few weeks ago, and I thought you'd maybe like a hardcover as well. I don't know, I just saw it and thought of you. Is this too much? I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strong-" He's cut off by you throwing your arms over his shoulders, tugging him into a hug that attempts to show him how much this means to you.

You've only been dating for a few months, and you'd mentioned the book only once, the first time he came over to your apartment. You can recall the delight in his eyes when he saw the well-worn paperback that sits in prime position in your bookshelf.

It's overwhelming, the thought that he remembered that detail for so long, that he thought of you when he was out for work, that he bought it for you when it wasn't an occasion or anything. You can only bury your face in his neck, murmuring words into his skin.

"It's perfect, Spencer, thank you. You're perfect. God, I missed you."

You can't see it this time, but the heat of his skin against yours tells you that he's blushing again, even as he brings his arms up to wrap around you.

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

I've just come back from the first ritual!!! Below the cut is some stuff from the ritual that I would like to note and make public knowledge

I have tagged this post with the spoiler tags "the band ghost spoilers", "ritual spoilers", and "spoilers" for anyone who wants to block those tags until after they've gone to their own ritual tour date show ❤️

Perpetua's speaking voice is slightly higher in pitch than Copia's. Like, when I say slightly it's quite subtle but enough to notice it if you're actively listening for differences

Also he's less talkative than Copia was, which we kinda knew already bc Tobias confirmed this in an interview a few weeks ago

And during his first little. Speech thing?? He asked us all if we'd be gentle with him. And when we shouted no he was like "no?" And when we shouted back no again he said "are you gonna rough me up?" And when we all shouted yes he said "I'll hold you to that" and my god I haven't stopped thinking about that all night. What a night to become a Perpetua stan

In terms of setlist, I counted 5 songs from the new album! The first was played at the start and was an instrumental number, which I assume is gonna be the first track of the album. The second had lyrics about the sun and the moon?? Lachryma was played a little later, which was amazing. Satanized was played later on, also amazing. And there's a fifth song which I remember had a lot of lyrics about shadows? I think??

SPIRIT AND MONSTRANCE CLOCK ARE BACK ON THE SETLIST!!!

MOAC was an encore song instead of on the main set along with Dance Macabre and Square Hammer

DATHOML was played for the first time and it was beautiful. I think Perpetua expected us to shout back the whispered bits bc when we didn't do that he... idk what the expression was he made when I looked at him on the screen. Kinda like a "oh well nevermind" expression??

Outfits: he slays in all of them

My favourites were the pink sequin fuck you jacket for Square Hammer. And you guys remember the robes in that one picture where he's sat down and the robes have big skeletal hands on the shoulders? Well on the back is a spine, a pelvis, I can't remember if there were ribs or not, and A LONG BONE TAIL THAT STOPS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE ROBE

I won't spoil the backdrop or anything for yall bc it was so amazing that I need you guys to experience it blind. Oh my god. I was astounded

Perpetua blew us all kisses after the encore and I was like 🥹 the entire time

This could be the beginning of me returning to Ghost fanfic writing ngl. Perpetua is going to be on my mind constantly now.

And I wanna say a big MASSIVE thank you to Tobias, the ghouls, the techs, and everyone at the venue who made this such a wonderful experience. I'm genuinely so glad I couldn't use my phone bc I felt so present and engaged and the memories are smth I'll treasure forever

[ughdontbeboring]

only you.

Thor x Black/WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?” 

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 

[tojiscrack]

there’s so many things i love about your fic but one thing i specifically love that doesn’t have much to do with your fic is probably the community. like every person that comes into your asks, including the funny anons, feels like family idk STOP I SOUND SO CORNY BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEANNNN. like 1l-ynn’s (i think that’s her username) hatred for anyone that comes in between megumi and y/n is so funny, THE MALAKAI SHIPPING PHASE, THE RANDOM ANON THAT STARTED RAPPING IN UR ASKS, stanheightis stressing out every now and then about the angst is so real, kickingcat’s beautiful artwork as well as azr3na’s, mercupinesspring’s tiktok page dedicated to liar,liar which i stalk with my private account haha. i’m trying to think of the others but yeah, like the community is so beautiful and i think i’m gonna miss that more than anything when the fic eventually ends 🥲

i love u guys i can’ttttt

liar, liar masterlist here:

tagging everyone you mentioned so they see this ‘cause they absolutely deserve to know how special and precious they are, not only to me, but apparently to you too. it’s so absolutely true, my fav thing about writing the series this past year is the growing community 😭🩵

@1l-ynn @stanheightis @kickingcat @azr3na @mercupinesspring

the malakai hate was so incredibly funny to me bc he was never gonna be a second love interest. like, ever 💀 that’d make this megumi/reader story just be crack upon crack, and ik i prioritise comedy over romance in this romcom, but there’s a limit, yk 😭 and it was just funny to be given a taster of how certain ppl feel about a second love interest being introduced at all before i’d even introduced the real one, might i add

with that, watching ppl stress about the angst tag before it had even arrived (it’s still not here, curtesy of my hiatus 😇) was also the funniest thing ever. i’d wake up every morning with a new ask in my inbox stressing about NOTHING. like a singular person even held enough stress for the entire community, and then some 😭

the artwork i’ve received over the last few months have been collected into a google doc that’s how obsessed with them i am, ready to be printed out bc i genuinely meant it when i said i’d do just that for my room 😋 we made it to a point where we can appoint ppl as LL’s co-illustrators, which 16 year old me, who was drafting the first chapter a year and a bit ago, wouldn’t have even predicted such a thing and i’m so grateful bc wdym they were able to make malakai look good? ☹️🩵

their versions of y/n are so beautiful too 😭

and LL content being cross-posted to tiktok? i felt like an old person when i first saw the page and went through the memes made about my story (it’s like old ppl laughing at their own joke) 😀 my fav is definitely malakai core, and the video with ‘how i want megumi to react whenever another guy speaks to y/n’ or smth like that (along those words) 🤭

honourable mentions too bc these guys could never be forgotten by me:

@shaigimo @princesssparklesprinkle @reinaswrld @cutesolecita @britishfailure @b4tm4nn @reocidal @jelly-fsh @miffysmittens @anonymity-222 @crisis-unaverted @sl1004 @watermelonlover905 @loffagirl @seoups @awriterinthenight @ist0leurc0ffee @biancaackerman @2ukika @julieannah @missunrise @briezy04764 @jvpit3rr @sfmegumi @nappingnai @evergumi @crimsonhallucinations @femtaktsfilosofi @manmuncher777

+ more ofc, i’m genuinely trying hard to remember everyone from the top of my head but it’s a little hard given how fast LL is growing.

this doesn’t mean i’ve forgotten any of you that i haven’t mentioned! just means i got lazy and needed to wrap this sappy response up, but i promiseeee i’m well aware of who’s here and who’s not 🤗 the people above have also had several interactions with me, so it’s easier to remember ppl who you speak to on a daily 🥲

i thank the silent readers for still being here anyway. the LL community wouldn’t be thriving without ur support too <3

also if i’ve tagged you and you wish to not be tagged even in sappy posts, just lmk, i’ll know not to do it in future haha 😧

but anyways… in conclusion, i agree. i can’t wait to return to all my children (you guys) in late june ☹️ the only reason why i’m simultaneously dreading it is ‘cause it means my exams would be here but oh well 😭

k gonna end it here ‘cause this is too sappy ew 🙄 (💕)

[artdonalldson]

On and Off Court

Art Donaldson x Reader

CONTENT: Stanford!Art, No use of pronouns, no detailed physical descriptions except reader has hair, a bit of angst with a happy ending, mild language, possibly inaccurate college stuff, a little Patrick/Tashi name drops for fun, vague references to feelings of being left out, lots of banter and soft moments on and off the court, slow-burn friends to lovers.

SUMMARY: Art Donaldson needs help with English. You need help not totally sucking at tennis. What starts as a simple exchange slowly turns into late practices, quiet moments, and the kind of connection neither of you planned for.

WORD COUNT: ~2600

A/N: Sooooo, in honor of Challengers anniversary, I'm posting my very first Challengers fic! Kinda based on this post I made a while ago. Sorry if this sucks, English is not my first language and idk a lot about college stuff in America and I'm not totally sure my research was good so yeah lol. Anyway, I'm so excited to finally share this with you all, I hope you like it as much as I do 🥺

Art Donaldson is fifteen minutes late.

Again.

You're not surprised, honestly. He'll come in and say he was stuck with practice or some silly excuse, but anyway, it was you who offered to give him the tutoring.

You’ve already arranged the chairs in your favorite study room at the library, highlighted key points from the essay rubric, and opened the annotated Frankenstein you forced him to borrow last week. The empty chair beside you, however, remains insultingly empty.

You don’t even hear him walk in as you scroll on your phone to kill time — just feel the gust of air when the door swings open and the telltale thunk of a duffle bag hitting the floor.

"Before you say anything," he says, holding up a peace offering in the form of an iced drink, "I got stuck in the traffic trying to get these” he gestures to the drinks. “I was behind a marching band. Like a literal one. Who has a parade on a Tuesday?"

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, how convenient. And so tragic.” you say as you roll your eyes playfully for dramatic effect.

You can hear him let out a soft chuckle as he sets the drink down in front of you with a grin, then slouches into the chair beside yours, sipping on his own drink. "You know, some people would appreciate a little sympathy.”

“Some people would appreciate a fine essay ,” you say, flipping to the page where he last gave up. “Let’s start with that.”

Tutoring with Art started as a joke. A few sarcastic comments during a group study session, one muttered “you write like shit”, and suddenly he was texting you for “just a quick look” at his paper.

Now, it's a standing trade: English help in exchange for weekly tennis lessons. You’re still terrible, but you like how he laughs when you mess up. You like that he never makes you feel dumb — not when you forget which way to hold the racket, not even when you suggest Victor Frankenstein just needed better boundaries.

You also like the way he listens. Really listens. Like your analysis actually matters. Like you matter.

Dangerous territory.

---

Two days later, you’re on the campus courts, winded and mildly sweaty, pointing your racket at him like a sword.

“You’re literally sabotaging me.”

Art wipes his forehead with the edge of his sleeve. “You keep hitting the ball into the net”

“It was a metaphor.”

“It was a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’ve decided you’re a bad coach.”

He smirks. “I’ve decided you’re a menace.”

You’re still smiling when you both collapse on the bench, passing a water bottle back and forth like a peace treaty.

Art leans back, eyes squinting up at the dusk sky. “Pat showed up today.”

You glance over at him. “Zweig?”

“Yeah.” His jaw tightens a little. “Didn’t even text. Just waltzed in like he owns the fuckin’ court. Said he was here to ‘check on the vibes.’”

You hide a smile. “Oh, so Tashi then”

Art groans. “Obviously. He always says he’s here to say hi, but he’s just looking for her. I swear, the guy only remembers I exist when I’ve got an extra churro.”

Of course he told you about Patrick, he told you all about him, about the MRTA and the Junior's US Open, and of course he told you about Tashi Duncan and the whole hotel room thing.

He also mentioned the way their friendship changed after Patrick won her number. For some reason he felt comfortable venting with you.

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Must be hard. Being the most dramatic tennis player on campus.”

He laughs — a full, head-thrown-back kind of laugh — and for a moment, the silence between you feels different. Charged.

You look away first.

He doesn't.

Eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should.

You pretend you didn't notice.

Then, he finally looks away.

---

Later, he walks you back to your dorm. Your hands brush once, and neither of you pull away. Just a few meters from your door, you stop, your voice low.

“Hey,” you say, “you actually wrote a good paragraph today.”

Art rubs the back of his neck. “You make it easier. I don’t know. The way you explain things — it’s like I can finally see what it’s supposed to be.”

You swallow. “Yeah. That’s how it feels when you talk about tennis.”

He’s quiet. Just looking at you in that way he does sometimes — like you’re a puzzle he wants to figure out slowly.

And then: “Another round next week, right?”

You smile. “On the court or on the page?”

“Both,” he says. Then adds, a little softer, “If you’ll still have me.”

You nod.

And when he walks away, you find yourself already counting the days until you see his charming smile again.

---

You’re terrible at tennis.

You know this. Art knows this. The entire Stanford tennis team probably knows this too.

But somehow, every Thursday afternoon, you still show up for the lessons.

And somehow, every Thursday afternoon, Art still smiles when he sees you.

Today, he’s already at the court when you arrive, bouncing a ball off his racket with absent precision. His baseball cap backwards and his red Stanford t-shirt on, a white turtleneck underneath, a sighs you're already used to.

There's a duffle bag tossed unceremoniously on the nearest bench, a textbook sticking out the side like it’s fighting for its life.

You drop your own bag next to his, contemplating the scene for a moment. “Did the literature monster get you again?”

He shakes his head, tossing the ball high and catching it without looking. “Nah. Passed my midterm, thanks to you.” He pauses, almost sheepish. “Actually did pretty decent.”

You give a dramatic gasp. “Was that a compliment? To me?”

Art chuckles. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

You step onto the court, adjusting your grip the way he showed you. He's watching you — not your racket, not your stance. You.

"Alright, coach," you tease. "Lay it on me."

He tosses you a ball. “Today we’re working on not sending projectiles into outer space”

You swat it immediately into the net.

“Solid start,” he deadpans.

---

About an hour later, you’re both collapsed on the bench, sweaty and laughing and sipping from the same battered water bottle, it feels almost like a ritual at this point.

His baseball cap is somewhere on the floor, golden curls sticking to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flushed, and you know he looks gorgeous like that — not that you'd admit it to him, though.

The sun’s starting to sink and painting the court in gold as Art leans back, wrist draped over his eyes. "God. I needed this."

You nudge him with your knee. "Tough week?"

He doesn’t answer right away. Just exhales, slow and heavy.

"Patrick and Tashi," he says finally. “It’s like... they're living on their own planet now. I really feel left out everytime I try to get close to them.”

You wait, giving him space to unravel it at his own pace.

"Zweig was supposed to hit the court with me this morning. Blew me off. Guess where he was?"

You hum. "Stuck at Tashi's dorm again?"

Art snorts. “Exactly. And Tash... well, she’s the star of the tennis team, the freaking Duncanator as they call her” he pauses, “I don't know how they are still together… I don't think she’s ever needed anyone, you know? Not the way I..."

He cuts himself off, frowning at the pavement.

You tilt your head. "Not the way you need people?"

He shrugs, a small, defeated motion. "Maybe."

For a second, you see it: past the big smiles and easy charm, the part of Art that wants to be chosen. That maybe he's tired of competing for scraps of their attention. That maybe, deep down, just wants someone to love him like he loves, to need him like he needs.

You set your racket down, careful, deliberate.

Then softly, the words come out of your lips "You have me." You're not even sure you said it out loud, but it felt like the right thing to say at the moment.

It feels too small, too simple. But when he turns his head to look at you, there’s something raw in his eyes. Something that says it matters anyway.

Art bumps your knee with his. "Yeah," he says. "And I'm lucky to have you"

---

Later that night, you're in your dorm, half-asleep studying for some upcoming exam, and maybe a little distracted thinking of that conversation with Art earlier.

I'm lucky to have you.

These little words are on repeat in your head till the train of thoughts is interrupted by the notification sound of your phone.

> Art Donaldson:

u free tmw? gym’s boring without u embarrassing urself

> You:

shocking u’d miss my tennis disasters

what’s in it for me?

> Art:

loser buys smoothies

deal?

> You:

deal.

You set your phone down, heart stupidly loud in your ears, louder than the thwack of the tennis ball against your racket.

Maybe he’s not gravitating to their planet anymore.

Maybe — just maybe — he’s starting to orbit yours.

---

You’re getting better at tennis.

Not good — no one would dare to say that — but definitely better.

You've managed to serve without launching the ball into the next county, you can rally for at least three strokes, and once — once — you even won a point against Art.

He teased you for a week straight.

But now, under the heavy, humid press of early May, the courts are quieter. Finals loom, summer plans scatter your friends to internships and hometowns. And still, you and Art keep meeting here, as if you made a promise neither of you ever said out loud.

Tonight, the campus feels half-asleep.

The lamps around the court buzz.

The sky is deep blue velvet.

You're hitting lazy shots back and forth when Art suddenly jogs toward the net, balancing the ball on his racket.

"Alright, literary genius," he says, smirking. "End of semester final challenge."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"

This sounds interesting, typical of Art.

He spins the racket around like he'd holding a lightsaber in his hand. "If you get three volleys past me — three — I'll buy you dinner."

You squint. "And if I don't?"

He leans forward, resting his arms casually on the net.

"I still buy you dinner," he says, a little too easily.

You laugh, heart stuttering. “That’s rigged.”

"Maybe I want it to be," he says, almost under his breath.

You pretend not to feel the way your stomach flips. You take the challenge anyway. You lose — gloriously. By the end of it, you’re breathless, doubled over, laughing so hard you can’t stand straight.

Art catches the ball in one hand and tosses it aside.

"You," he says, grinning, "are the best worst tennis player I’ve ever seen."

You salute him with your racket. " Think I’ll put that on my resume."

---

Later on, dinner turns into ice cream. Ice cream turns into sitting on the edge of the bed of his dorm, passing a pint back and forth.

Art is quiet for a while, staring out over the quad where the old ceiling fan is on, an attempt to keep the room fresh.

"Remember when we started this?" he says suddenly.

You lick the edge of the spoon, thinking. "You mean when you almost failed English and decided it was my problem?"

He laughs, but there’s something softer under it.

"I was... kinda a mess," he admits. "Still am, sometimes."

You nudge his shoulder. "Nobody's perfect"

He’s silent again, fiddling with a crumpled napkin. You watch him, the way the light turns the ends of his messy curls shine like gold.

Then he says, very quietly:

"Sometimes it felt like... everybody else was already paired off, you know? Patrick and Tashi, the team guys, even random people in classes. Like everyone had their person. And I was just... floating around."

You swallow.

"You're not floating around anymore," you say.

He finally looks at you — really looks at you — and there it is. All of it. The thing you’ve been pretending not to see for weeks, months. The reason your heart feels like it’s racing even when you’re standing still.

You don't move. You hardly breathe.

"Yeah," he says, voice rough. "I’m not."

Slow, careful, he leans in.

You could stop him. You could joke. You could pretend you don't feel this like lightning burning under your skin.

But you don’t stop him.

You don't even try.

You tilt your chin up and meet him halfway.

The kiss is gentle at first, — shy, tentative, like a question.

When you don't pull away, Art sighs against your mouth like he's been holding his breath for a year.

He tastes like vanilla and salt, and something sweeter on his tongue that you can't name.

His hand finds your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw like he needs to memorize you.

And it feels like a thousand fireworks are going off inside you, like this moment was truly meant to be, and now that is happening, it feels surreal.

When you finally pull apart, you're forehead to forehead, both of you smiling like idiots, he whispers:

"You’re my person."

You squeeze his hand.

"You always were."

---

It’s been five days since the kiss.

Not that you’re counting.

(You are. You’re absolutely counting.)

Five days, two tennis practices, one english tutoring, a very intense smoothie debate, and exactly fourteen texts where Art somehow found excuses to send you memes at two in the morning.

Now you’re back on the court, empty and golden in the late afternoon, pretending to practice your serve.

You toss the ball. Miss.

You toss again. Miss worse.

"You’re overthinking," Art calls, lounging against the net while adjusting his baseball cap.

You glare at him. "Maybe I’m just allergic to serve"

He pushes off the net and hops over the net, not even bothering to walk around, that familiar easy grin tugging at his mouth.

"You're not allergic," he says. "You're just tense."

He steps close enough that you have to look him in the eye.

Close enough that you can smell the faint, sun-warmed scent of his hoodie.

"Let me show you," he says.

Before you can protest, he’s stepping behind you, hands light on your waist, guiding your stance. His voice is low, soft against your ear.

"Relax your shoulders," he murmurs.

"Don’t force it. Just... trust it."

You could argue. You could snark.

But instead, you just breathe.

You toss the ball up in the air — and this time, when you swing, it sails cleanly over the net.

A small, surprised laugh bursts out of you. You turn, grinning.

Art's face is pure pride — and something warmer, something softer.

"Told ya," he says.

You don't think about it. You just reach out, grabbing the front of his hoodie and pulling him in for a kiss.

It’s clumsy and fast and perfect.

When you break apart, he leans his forehead against yours, chuckling.

"You’re dangerous when you win," he says.

You grin. "Guess you’ll have to keep coaching me. Forever."

He brushes a strand of hair from your cheek, serious now. "Deal."

And for the first time — maybe ever — you believe him.

Not just for this semester.

Not just for Stanford.

For everything that comes next.

THE END

[drop-dead-dropout]

posting a kimharry oneshot here bc i'm too lazy to format it on ao3 rn but I'll reblog with the ao3 link later if I get around to it

so basically I was thinking about how kim is very my partner coded and I had this galaxy brain idea to write a fic where kim is asexual or uhhh. would grayace be the term? sorry idk but it's based on my partner I love him <3. also blink and you'll miss it trans harry but it's important to me that you know they're t4t in this lol. cw for suggestive (non-graphic discussions of sexuality and also it takes place Directly after them fucking), 1.3k words. (please be nice to me I've never posted fic on tumblr lol)

YOU — The air in your apartment is musty with the smell of sweat and sex. Your chest heaves with slightly strangled breaths, face burning with humiliation. You've always been a little (a lot) loose-lipped during orgasm—

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Especially an orgasm like that, holy shit, Kim—

YOU — But you've never, in living memory, said anything quite as ridiculously and unashamedly needy as the complete word-vomit that just exited your mouth a few seconds ago.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Failure] — Honestly, you were a little out of it and the exact phrasing is already slipping your mind, but it was something along the lines of... What was it again?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — Oh my fucking Dei don't stop, Kim please I need you so bad, god I'm so desperate, shit, you drive me fucking crazy, pleasepleaseplease—

SAVOIR FAIRE — Yeah, no, I'm cutting you off right there. He's already about to spontaneously combust, you don't need to embarrass him even more.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — He asked. Besides, I'm not the one who dropped the ball there.

COMPOSURE — Sorry for that, Harry.

KIM KITSURAGI — Kim's hands rest on your chest, tracing circles just below your twin scars with his nimble fingers. "Is that... Really how it feels, to you?"

EMPATHY — It's a genuine question, and he's smiling with an infectious fondness. He's not upset, just curious. Your eagerness is fascinating to him. And cute.

HALF-LIGHT — What does he mean by that, though? Are we too needy? Is it not good for him? Does he hate us and want us to die forever—

VOLITION — No. Shut up. We already agreed you're not allowed to talk when Harry's alone with Kim, don't you remember?

HALF-LIGHT — But! Danger!

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Trivial: Success] — It's Kim. There is no danger here.

YOU — At a loss for anything else to say, you just nod, a bit dumbly. "I mean... Yeah. Is it, uh, not like that for you?"

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] — You try to play the question off as a nonchalant, but you're not even close to being a good enough liar to hide the mild undercurrent of fear in your voice. Especially not from him. (Khm. Sorry again.)

KIM KITSURAGI — "No, not really. It's not you," he quickly adds, seeing the obvious and barely-held back self-loathing in your expression. "It's just the way I am, I suppose. I'm too old to question it now."

DRAMA [Heroic: Success] — He's not lying to spare your feelings, sire. This is truly just a facet of himself that's always been there.

RHETORIC [Challenging: Failure] — By the way, you distinctly recall hearing him talk about having had sex before. Quite a bit, in fact.

YOU — "But wait, I thought—"

KIM KITSURAGI — Already having anticipated this line of questioning, Kim laughs a bit under his breath. "It wasn't a lie; I never said I don't. Actually, sometimes that made it better— without all the messy urgency, I guess I seemed 'cool', to borrow your phrasing. And it's not like I didn't enjoy it, either." He shrugs. "It was just... Something to do. I never really understood the intensity."

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] — A dozen miles and many years ago, two young men make out in a musty old apartment. "How are you always so— so unaffected," one says to the other with a breathy laugh. In a few months he will repeat these words with a much uglier tone, and they will be the last ones Kim ever hears from him.

EMPATHY [Heroic: Success] — For the record, he was not, in fact, "unaffected" by that particular heartbreak. Don't ever hurt him like that.

YOU — Before you can think better of it, you find yourself saying, "Is that bad?"

KIM KITSURAGI — A twitch in the corner of his mouth interrupts his relaxed grin for a moment. You almost want to mourn the loss. "I don't know, Harry, is it? Why do you think it would be?"

PAIN THRESHOLD — You've hurt him, idiot. We just told you not to do that.

YOU — "I-I mean— it's just—" Your teeth click audibly with how quickly you shut your own mouth. You really, really don't want to fuck this up.

HALF-LIGHT — Too late.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] — HEY. Back in the corner, you.

YOU — Guys, please help me. I don't know anything about… Well, anything, really, but especially not this. How do I fix it? What do I say to make him feel better?

INLAND EMPIRE — You could start by actually answering his question, instead of rushing to apologize. Why do you think it would be bad? What about the concept is uncomfortable to you?

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] — Kim feels safe with you, in the same way that you do with him. Be honest. He knows you didn't mean anything by it— the only way you could fuck this up is by not talking to him.

YOU — After a moment of pondering, you find the right words. Or maybe not the right words, but the ones that feel the most true: "I don't know. But I know I would be unhappy, if I was... Different to how I am now."

EMPATHY — Kim's eyes flash with a bit of surprise. But good surprise, like an old friend dropping by unexpectedly. The smile returns (yay!)— smaller, but softer, and almost giddy. It's not one you see on him often, a bit too unguarded and juvenile for his tastes. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

KIM KITSURAGI — "So would I," he says simply.

DRAMA [Challenging: Success] — He means it.

YOU — "Oh." You blink two or three times. "Oh. Well that's good, then, right? That you're happy?"

PERCEPTION (HEARING) — Something about the almost childish sincerity in your voice must be funny to him, because he keeps doing that thing where he chuckles under his breath, and coughs to try to cover it.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Formidable: Failure] — He's laughing at you.

AUTHORITY [Trivial: Failure] — Exactly. He's mocking you, Harry, he thinks you're an idiot. Make him respect you—

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — He's in love, you moron.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — As if on cue (or maybe your internal dialogue is just more easily observable from the outside than you thought), Kim leans forward and kisses you. For the first time, you notice how effective he is at responding to your reactions, like he's trying to find and wring out every last happy sigh and spark of oxytocin he could possibly give you.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] — Because he likes this. He likes pressing all your buttons and seeing what they do, which ones work the best. (Almost all of them work, when it's him. Maybe a little too well.)

ENDURANCE — Hey, don't look at me like that! It's not my fault he doesn't play fair.

SAVOIR FAIRE — Exactly. How are we supposed to be cool in front of Kim? He's like, the coolest.

KIM KITSURAGI — "I love you," Kim whispers, his lips tickling against your collarbone.

SAVOIR FAIRE — See?! He even makes THAT sound cool, a thousand times cooler than when we say it, which is, like, every five seconds!!

EMPATHY — It's true that you're usually the one to say it first. For a time, he hardly said it at all— you learned not to take it personally. You certainly have your own baggage. But lately, it's been nice to watch as he gets a bit more comfortable.

EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] — The cuddling usually seems to help, in moments like this.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Godly: Success] — After all, what is a hug but a way to hide your face?

YOU — You wind your arms tighter around him. "I love you, too, Kim." And you swear he must be able to feel the way your lungs glow.

EMPATHY — He does. Of course he does.

INLAND EMPIRE — For a moment, you think you can feel his, too.

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] — SLEEP WELL, MY DARLINGS.

[babyzzai]

hiii!! hewwwoooww!!! i weawwy loves ur hcs!! i juf found uw blog an i love it sm!!! i saw dat u make mostly lil!dazai hcs, but could i get lil!chuuyah hc?? if u not comfy w makin it/u no wanna do it, itz fine!!

little chuuya headcanons ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

⋆ ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ ⋆

i actually LOVE little chuuya. hes so special to me, but my favorite character just happens to be dazai which is why i talk about him so much, but i am MORE than happy to write babychuu!! :3

⋆ ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ ⋆

headcanons below the cut! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ chuuya regresses to 5 years old! hes a flip with a caregiver lean! hes a very polite kiddo, and is honestly an easy kid to take care of. youd think with his confident personality when hes big hed be a bit more of a louder kid, but honestly, hes very calm and polite. he says please and thank you, he cleans up after himself, a very good baby :3

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ he LOVES those airbuds movies, i made a post about it around a month ago, those movies with all the golden retriever puppies, like santa buddies, spooky buddies, snow buddies, treasure buddies, etc. theyre his absolute favorite!! he gets so excited to see them! anything puppy themed is his go to, seeing as how much he loves puppies. i can also see him liking paw patrol, and hell get all excited and keep on saying "chase is on the case!".

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ he likes to go outside a lot! in the spring and summer hell play in the mud and get pretty dirty, but chuuya knows its not good to track mud and dirt and grass around the house, so hell allow himself to get cleaned up at the end of the day and then have a nice little treat as a reward :3

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ hes mostly verbal when regressed, hes not really a baby baby, moreso toddler/kiddo age, he can vocalize his wants and needs pretty well, but there are a few times he needs nonspeaking time, or help with big words.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ hes had a few caregivers in his lifetime.

♡ in the sheep, regression was common (i mean- theyre all kids having to act like adults with no parents, living on the streets. it makes sense that some of the sheep would use regression as a coping mechnaism). no one in the sheep really had a set caregiver, but shirase and chuuya were close, so shirase would babysit chuuya.

♡ then albatross was a caregiver for chuuya. ill admit i havent read stormbringer yet... i wanna but idk why im procrastinating 😭 i know a decent amount about it, and about the flags from fanfictions and just being in the fandom though. i dont think albatross really knew a name for what chuuya was going through, but i do think he loved and cared about chuuya, and understood he was traumatized and not doing well mentally, and figured it would make sense for chuuyas brain to seek comfort in a childlike way. he already viewed chuuya as his little brother, he didnt care what age that meant, he just wanted to be there for him! the rest of the flags would babysit for chuuya as well, doc would bandage any ouchies hed get and give him a lolipop to keep him from crying. lippman would love to dress chuuya in fun outfits, and vice versa. iceman would spend quiet time with chuuya and color with him, let him sleep on his lap, pet his hair and make him some tea while he drank his coffee (giving caffeine to a five year old doesnt go over well, lol, he didnt want chuuya too excited- that part he left for albatross lol). i hc specifically that iceman would give chuuya sleepytime tea to get him tired and to fall asleep lol, he likes a quiet environment, and though chuuya is by no means a rowdy kid, sometimes its just nice to relax with a sleeping baby in your lap! i dont know much about pianoman tbh... but he babysat for chuuya too!!

♡ i could see adam being a caregiver as well, and this is where chuuya discovered that what he experienced had a name- age regression. adam, being a robot, was able to inform and educate chuuya about it in a way that the sheep or the flags couldnt. chuuya didnt see anything wrong with it. from all of his life that he could remember he regressed, other people he knew regressed, no one had a problem with it, and if they did they could mind their own business, so help him, lol.

♡ and then ofc, dazai caregives for chuuya! whereas i headcanon chuuya as a flip, dazai is solely a regressor, and has problems accepting his own regression, but would take care of chuuya no questions asked at the drop of a hat. he knows chuuya would, and does, do the same for him, and theyre partners. having each others backs and taking care of each other is what they do. and if taking care of each other means watching paw patrol for hours, or taking chuuya to the park to pet some puppies, or cradling him as he falls asleep, drooling onto dazais chest, then thats what hes gonna do.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ the caregiver headcanons were so long... but its not my fault, everyone loves chuuya!! they all wanna take care of the baby!!

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ pet names!! i think chuuya would like to be called baby boy, honey, kid/kiddo, pretty common ones. dazai would ofc use chibi, mackeral, and slug, i read somewhere the hc that he calls baby chuuya neonate, which is the baby version of a slug lol, and i love that. adam calls chuuya very basic names, like sweetheart and honey. i like to imagine shirase calling chuuya little lamb, cuz they were in the sheep, and singing mary had a little lamb to him, and chuuya was the little lamb.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ speaking of the sheep, chuuya has a sheep nightlight. he uses it when not regressed too, because hes scared of the dark. it gives him nightmares and reminds him of his time in the lab. so his sheep nightlight lets him sleep easier.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ bed time is relatively easy for chuuya. hes an active baby, always wanting to get his hands onto a new activity, be it playing, coloring, tv, drawing, games, whatever. hes always a bit tuckered out by the end of the day and will easily fall asleep in his caregivers arms. he really, really likes to be cradled to sleep, or hugged in someones arms, because the warmth and safety of his caregiver's arms is a welcomed difference to the cold, loneliness he felt in the lab, or when he was afraid and breaking down all alone :(

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ chuuya is a trauma regressor (he is heavily implied to have cptsd, and i also headcanon him to have bpd). he regresses to cope with not remembering his childhood, and moreso from what he does remember of his childhood.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ chuuyas a bit of an older kid, and he doesnt usually suck his thumb, but if hes feeling especially nervous or had a bad day or is having a panic attack or flashback, i think hed start sucking his thumb for comfort (despite telling dazai not to when hes taking care of him lol). dazai never understood the sentiment of pacifiers, but he knew when he was regressed and sucked on his fingers, chuuya always made him sue a pacifier, so he thought in the long run chuuya would appreciate if he gave him a pacifier to suck on. chuuya accepts it, he has nothing against pacifiers, he just needs the sucking sensation to calm down.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ the baby loves cuddles!! even when hes not little, too, but especially when hes feeling small!! hell tuck his head under his caregivers chin and nuzzle into the neck, and he loves to sit on his caregiver's lap! and yknow whats even better than cuddles...? KISSES!! chuuya, the eversweet little guy he is, loves to give his caregiver kisses, and loves to be kissed!! he loves to shower them with kisses on their cheeks, and feels so warm and cozy when hes being put to bed for the night and his caregiver gives him a sweet, tender kiss on the forehead.

ugh i have so many more headcanons but this is getting really long... im so into little chuuya especially with the release of the stormbringer manga... like theres no way this poor child doesnt regress to cope ☹️ i lowkey had to remind myself not to make this caregiver dazai centered because im brainrotted by soukoku lol. hes there vaguely, but i wanted little chuuya to be the center of attention!!

[kay-then-i-guess]

A while back, @feather-sapace asked for the original design sheets for Wilbur and Foolish, so, here they are! Just remember that this was art I made a couple years ago, back before I started my Roleshuffle AU comic, so it's definitely a touch old. But let's start with Foolish!

A lot of people do a lot of different things for Foolish. He's kind of one of the weirder skins to make a design for--it's not super cut-and-dry like Ant's or Tommy's or George's or something, but it's not as necessarily out-there as Dream's is, or even Skeppy's, for that matter. So, when designing him, I had a lot of wiggle room to interpret/make my own. Since in the canon dsmp, he goes for a fantasy desert theme, I tried to kind of keep the same vibe with his design.

He doesn't really have any clothes on his skin, but unlike with Ant (who gets a free pass since he's an anthropomorphic cat) who can just roam around without any clothes and have it look normal (in the same way it's normal for Techno not to have pants), it really would be strange for Foolish to do that, since he's more humanoid. So, I gave him a fun little outfit, instead. Fun fact! You only really see this a couple of times, since most of the time he has his shark hat on, but his robe (tunic? dress? idk) doesn't actually have a back above the middle-tie-thingy. Neither does his tank top, technically. Why, you ask? Well...I just kind of wanted to. Oh, also, his eyes aren't just shaped like that. It's canonically eyeliner. I think the only time thus far he's seen without his eyeliner is after he got hit by the minecart, lol.

In other design terms, you have the issue of the shark itself. Foolish's skin is based off of a totem, but it also has these shark elements. It's never clear if that's supposed to be because he's a hybrid or if he just... wears that for some reason. So, I went with the latter of making it into clothes, even though this wasn't particularly true to the skin--he only has bits of the shark on him (the head on his head, shark-y hands, etc.). The hat is cool, though, and even though we haven't gotten to this yet, I tried to give it LORE so it'd not be as random.

Speaking of LORE, you may notice that Foolish's eyes glow in the original design sheet! He doesn't do that in the comic. Not yet, anyways. One of the big things I wanted to do with this comic is fix the ending problem and (since they're 100% connected) the problem with c!Dream. I left Foolish's design open in a few areas to changes later down the line in the story. I want to justify the canon dsmp's attempt to have its audience sympathize with c!Dream by actually altering parts of the story to make him, well, sympathize-able. We are suuuuuper close to getting to the point where this is going to become relevant in my comic--it's in the next arc! I think my idea will still make Foolish a good villain and such, but still leave room for audiences to still think of him as human.

Oh, also, his bead earrings were originally blue, but since simple is often times better in designs you have to draw over and over and over again, I changed it to his iconic green. Having too many colors on one character can be overwhelming for you to draw all the time, and it's not very cohesive, so it's important to remember that complex designs aren't always better designs when making characters.

I kind of wrote a lot for this, so I'm going to talk about Wilbur tomorrow in his own separate post. Hope you enjoy!

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hi luv! May I req for Leo falling for a mischievous (cat-like personality) demigo (maybe ares, idk) after she beats him while sparring so he continuously asks her to spar just to spend more time together (and maybe she knows it and just plays along, maybe tells him she’ll go on a date with him once he beats her?). Idk this was just an idea, thought I got. Do not feel pressured or anything obvs!

Heya this has been in my inbox for a while and I finally got a good idea lol cause I don't wanna be posting half assed WIP's. [this is also combined with a request for Leo Valdez x daughter of Athena reader I got a while ago btw]

Enjoy <3

love is stronger then everything [except Clarrise, of course] ---Leo V x Daughter of Athena reader

»»————-　★　————-««

Leo was a mastermind. 

Like, obviously you were the daughter of Athena, but he was the one behind it all. He was just… so smart.  It was unbelievable sometimes. Not to be big headed or anything, he was just the most intelligent person in the room.

Well, in this scenario, it wasn’t the room, it was the arena. And that’s about where his cunning brain cells decided to sit on the bench and do their nails with Piper. 

He’d tell them off later, if he ever survived the sharp eyed sharp edged girl in front of him who was somehow holding a war axe made of solid imperial gold over her shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of your arms distracted him of his incoming death momentarily, but then you just had to open your mouth. “

“Valdez, are you gonna spar with me, or was the six step official challenge at breakfast with a disco ball and three tonnes of strawberries for nothing?” 

“Four tonnes, actually,” he managed to squeak out, and then shifted his grip on the sword he’d borrowed from Jake, who’d only laughed in his face when Leo told him he’d challenged you.

Judging by the way you fiddled with your camp beads necklace and then swung the smooth golden axe stained with something remarkably similar to human blood, Jake was right. Leo gulped and stepped back, ready to scramble out of the way and clang his too big sword against the edges of the axe he only just realized were sharp enough to cut through bone. 

You seemed to pity him as well, which Leo didn’t appreciate, but at least you gave him a few extra seconds to scramble out of the way.

A moment later there was sand in his eyes churned up by your sneakers, the ones with little green string snakes as laces. He vaguely remembered snakes being a symbol of Athena, only that thought was scrapped when he had to step back to avoid having his skull split in half. 

Piper cheered sarcastically and passed Jason a leftover strawberry from this morning’s events. 

You spun around and the axe made a crater in the sawdust covered ground. Leo turned and half heartedly swung his hammer at your shoulder, but you dipped back and knocked it out of his hands in less then a second, leaving him defenseless. 

Leo launched himself backwards and felt his shoe skid on the ground, sawdust billowing up into his vision as gravity decided to ruin his day, and his dignity. 

He was contemplating just falling asleep right then and there, when a gray sliver appeared in front of him. He had to cross his eyes to identify the metal poking his nose as the tip of your war axe. Leo just got comfy on the ground, resting his hands beneath his head as you glared. 

Apparently you weren’t satisfied with the early defeat, gray eyes narrowed as you snapped. “What on Olympus was that, Valdez?”

“Me fighting?” He asked hopefully, squinting up as the sun angled itself behind you. He brushed away the thought that it made you look a bit like an angel, despite the frown on your face and the weapon at his throat. 

“Well you aren’t any good at it, so don’t bother,” you said, hooking the axe over your shoulder and marching off. “I have to go help Beth with the capture the flag plans.”

Leo huffed, blowing a strand of his curly brown hair out of his face and grinning up at the roof, which swirled a little. He might’ve bumped his head a little too hard, now that he thought about it. 

Then another face swam in front of him and Piper popped a bubble that smelt vaguely of grapes. She looked towards where you’d disappeared out the arena’s swinging double doors. “What in the ever loving fucknuggets was that, Valdez?”

“I liked their version better,” Leo grumbled, and sat up slowly, feeling his bones groan internally at him. “And it’s not my fault their fit. And strong. ANd have a huge weapon. And pretty eyes. And-”

“And a nice ass?” 

“Yep, especially in those camo pan- why are you looking at their ass?” Leo asked suspiciously. Taking a hand from Piper to get up properly. He stretched his arms above his head and tried to stop thinking about your butt. It didn’t really work very well, and then his thoughts skipped along to your thighs and the really cool scar along one and he missed half of what Jason was saying in between the smile he was trying to hide. 

That didn’t matter very much though, because Leo was struck with the best idea in the history of children born of the literal ideas god. Well, maybe that was Athena, not Hephestus, but your parents were a problem for later. Way later. Like when you’d decided Leo was more than just a rock stuck in your shoe.  

That was something he could work on though. 

He just had to impress you so much that you’d agree to go out with him. Building something cool would be the immediate option, but he built cool things everyday. It wasn’t easy, per-say, but it wasn’t a date-worthy achievement.  

Piper snapped her fingers in front of his face and Leo jerked his head back, “huh? Sorry I was just thinking…”

“About what? Finally giving up on-”

“Imma single handedly win capture the flag!”

»»————-　★　————-««

You handed out the last of the helmets, blue plumes dotting the crowd of demigods jostling around and yelling about lice and how their butterfly clips wouldn’t fit underneath the bronze. 

You chose to ignore those ones and turned back to the little canvas tent someone had dragged out from Bunker 9 to set up base in, even though it couldn’t be used during the actual game. You weren’t actually sure what the point of it was, but Clarrise deemed it necessary, and you decided not to argue with her, in the interest of living.

The Athena cabin had managed to swoop in and ally with the Ares cabin before Connor got there, so you managed to rein in the help of Butch and his siblings [which meant that the Red team would have quite a few problems involving pegasi droppings in the hours to come], the two twins of Nike, the Dionysus and Hebe kids, as well as the smattering of Aphrodite kids that were ready to get blood under their perfectly done nails. A few of them seemed too happy about that prospect, but Drew had heart shaped arrows and Charmspeak, so you ignored the fact Lacey was singing about chopping off heads. 

Annabeth propped her sneakers up on the table, smudging mud on the map of the forest as she did so, to tie up her laces. “So, we’ve got puddles of pegasi shit under the leaves, I asked Holly and Laurel who could make the most nets so we’ll have enough to trap most of the Hermes cabin under by the time we start, and then Clarrise and her lot can just heavily maim the rest.”

“Nice,” you noted, and pushed the coloured pins for each demigod wiping blue warpaint across their cheeks around the map to their places. “We’re against Will’s dickwits, so they’ll do that thing and keep the sun behind them to blind everyone on our team.”

Annabeth fiddled with her camp necklace and glared at the map. “ And what are we supposed to do to counter that? Ask Apollo to take the day off??

“Start handing out sunglasses.”

Someone dragged a bucking gray pegasi through the opening to the canvas tent and chaos broke out, Butch yelling orders at a group of Dionysus kids who began feeding the freaked out mare shiraz. 

You turned away before you were lumped with the task of dealing with them, and reached for your axe. A sticky note fell off, the yellow paper floating to the ground. 

Hi hi so if i win capture the flag by myself then will you go out with me also i cant ask you this in person because jasons teaching me how to use a sword and im about to run out of sticky note and now ive forgotten what i was trying to say

The note ended there, and you frowned, trying to ignore the twitch at your lips when you turned the greasy crinkled paper over. 

right yeah this is leo by the way you probably already figured that out cause no one else is smart enough to beat all of camp to go out with you the flying horse distraction was my idea too by the way im a genius you should definitely go out with me okay now im out of pa

“Who’s the person?”

You nearly decapitated Drew in that moment. You lowered your axe and shoved the note in the back of your pocket that you only just remembered wasn’t there, courtesy of the armor you’d donned. “What are you talking about?”

“The love note,” she insisted with a curious smirk, lipgloss shining. “They sounded pretty excited and now you’re making that face oh my god you actually like them back!” 

“Do not!” You snapped back, tightening your shoulder guard and hefting your bloodied axe over you shoulder. The pegasi was led out of the tent as you shooed Drew in the same direction. “Now go back to your station, we’re starting in five.”

She squinted at you for a second, then her eyes widened as he jaw dropped. “Leo!”

You blinked, wrinkling your nose. “Okay how did you even-”

“Seeya later!” Drew called over her shoulder, skipping away with Butch to find her section of the woods to patrol, her assigned heart shaped sunglasses slipping down her nose. 

You narrowed your eyes at her retreating figure, but then one of Clarisse's sisters was wondering if the no killing rule had changed in the last four minutes and you were promptly distracted. 

»»————-　★　————-««

“Why don’t you just run along there and turn Travis into a toddler for me?” You asked a son of Hebe who nodded solemnly and disappeared into the trees. Light dappled the leaves on the ground and once you’d ordered around the rest of the soldiers in training, the bellowing horn sounded. 

A tense silence filled the woods, no one daring to make the first move and startle the spies out of their trees and the runners from their starting places. You pushed the cat eyed sunglasses up your nose and adjusted your sweaty grip on the axe, which must have weighed as much as the Hebe boy you’d just sent on his way. 

Blue streaked the sky behind the clouds, but the blue you were concerned about fluttered peacefully in the wind from where the flag had been nestled in Zeus’s fist. 

From what you’d planned, the Nike twins should be hiding in the two pine trees in font of you that had grown on either side of the track you knew the red team would take, nets between them ready to trap the enemy. Drew was placed behind you with her bow and arrows, ready to take down anyone that made it past Holly and Laurel. 

And if the lucky little fucker made it any further, you had your axe ready.

The rest of your team, save the Ares kids bordering the river, who were ready to maim but not kill, were causing a distraction that included a lot of grapevines and a reenactment of the Hamilton Musical [the second half was to be acted out at the campfire later that night]. It was sure to distract the Apollo cabin while  Annabeth donned her blue Yankees hat and snuck through. 

The only way it could go wrong at this point, is if a certain fluffy haired pointy eared son of Hephestus went through with his sticky note proposition and burned down the entire woods. 

Considering the fact he’d challenged you to a duel four times this week, you wouldn’t be surprised. Not that you minded. His concentrating face was sort of cute, especially when he stuck his tongue out a little and that time you’d pinned him to the sawdust covered ground you’d realized he actually had a few little freckles along his nose. 

And he really liked strawberries. That you could admire. 

Okay, maybe you looked forward to whatever proposition he’d set up at breakfast each day, but it mainly had to do with the presents. And definitely not that grin he’d get when you agreed.

If he won this game of capture the flag, which was impossible for one demigod anyway, and you did go out with him, you’d get to see that smile times one thousand. It sort of made you want him to win.

Then you shook the thought from your helmet cladden head. Your team was going to win this, and you’d stab Leo yourself to do so. 

Lightly, though. 

He still had that crackly laugh you could place from across the dining pavilion, you couldn’t kill him. It made your brain melt for a moment, which wasn’t something a daughter of Athena needed. But, he was a certified genius. Maybe that would even it out. 

»»————-　★　————-««

“Where the fuck is Drew?” You yelled into the forest around you, but only the crickets and startled squawking birds answered. Metal clanged and the crickets were silenced when your Axe thudded against a tree, handle first. 

Austin smirked, and his bow knocked into your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise you could already feel forming. 

You ducked another blow and stumbled back, stumbling a tight ring around the sun of Apollo to get back to your weapon, glancing around the clearing as you did so. Holly and Laurel were nowhere to be seen, and there were certainly no nets to help you out in the one on one ambush. 

You’d been waiting around for some action when suddenly there was a lot but still not enough, because apparently everyone on the blue team had decided they’d rather fall asleep in their stations than help you. Even without them you could hold up your own, grabbing your axe and swinging it around at Austin when he came back for seconds. The arrow in his hand seemed less scary once his bow was in two splintered pieces at your feet.

He stepped back, face falling, and the daisies crushed underfoot sprung back into their slightly crumpled places when he backed away properly, turning to where the blue flag was still untouched on the top of Zeus’s fist. 

You paused, lowering the axe in confusion once he called out to nothing, “Oi! Move it loverboy, I’m running out of time!” 

Then you froze, because of course somehow, against all odds, a panting Leo was clambering up the highest point with the red flag in one tightly closed hand and a second later he was holding the blue one above his head victoriously as well, a stupidly wide grin on his cute face. 

He let out a yelp as pebbles began to slide around his feet but then you couldn’t see him anymore, pushed to the back of the crowd by a stampede of yelling demigods brandishing weapons.

It took you a second to realize they were cheers and not war cries [the difference was hard to make out most of the time], so you weaved through some Hermes kids who were chatting animatedly and a Demeter girl with a stump where her arm had been. Will rushed along behind you to her side once you’d gotten past both teams of the now over capture the flag game. 

“What the fuck is this?” You yelled up at Leo, who sent you a double thumbs up and then began hopping down the pile of boulders, the flags now held with his crooked teeth.

You squinted up at him, watching his green army jacket get caught on an overhanging branch and then when he jumped down finally, you were there to cross your arms and glare at him.

“Sup?” he smirked, holding his hands behind his back and rocking on his feet. “Did you get my note?”

Apparently he guessed your answer through your facial expression and then held up the flags like an offering. You ignored a fatal sounding screech from an Aphrodite boy in the distance as Leo chewed his lip. “So…. I won!” 

“And how, exactly?” 

Leo glanced to the side, and you followed his gaze to a smirking daughter of Aphrodite, who’s hoop earrings shined with blood that definitely wasn’t hers, judging from Drew’s satisfied expression. He then pulled out another crumpled up sticky note from his jacket, which was stained with something dark. He read out in a stilted tone, “I have to make a flamethrower, a chariot with poison shooting arrows, a two real life hoverboards, about thirty pairs of water, lava, and acid proof headphones, and a few jetpacks.”

“Right,” you muttered, tilting your head at Leo.

 He blinked obliviously at you and tucked away his extensive list, probably not able to hear you speak over the yelling crowds that bustled around carrying bandages and broken weapons, already busying themselves with the aftermath of the set up blood-bath.  

“It was worth it,” he shrugged, “but I’ll be stuck in bunker nine for the rest of the my life.”

“Maybe you can take a day off.” You unfolded your arms, resigned to the fact all of Camp Halfblood was about to witness this. Then you stepped forwards a little and leant in to whisper in his pointed ear. “...Y’know, for our date.” 

Leo blinked.

“Someone get the Leo extinguisher!” A Hebe kid yelled, and there was a general uproar of chaos from everyone but you weren’t really paying attention because Leo had patted down his flaming torso quickly, only that didn’t change the color of his face back to normal.

He narrowed his eyes, but the grin had never faded and you could see his fingers tapping along his thighs a thousand miles an hour. “You serious?”  

You nodded.

“DID YA HEAR THAT?” He yelled at the crowd of teenagers, cupping his mouth with a scarred hand, “I GOT A HOT DATE YALL!” 

“Don’t make me regret it,” you muttered back, rolling your eyes, but when Leo smiled up at you you knew you’d never regret it, so instead you just smiled back, shoving your hands in your pockets while Piper started screaming from Jason’s shoulders. 

Leo clapped his hands eagerly, “great, now you gotta carry me.”

“That’s cringe.”

“I’m being serious,” he said and held his arms up so you could grab him bridal style. You paused for a moment and then resigned yourself to the fact this might be the rest of your life. It wasn’t too bad, you realized, when Leo wrapped his arms around your neck and pointed in the direction of Will triumphantly. “Forward, sexy steed!” 

“One, if you ever call me that again, I will literally throw you off a cliff, and two, why do we have to get to WIll?” You asked as you carried him through the crowd in the direction of the stressed out blonde anyway.

“Cause Clarrise stabbed me in exchange for letting me win.”

»»————-　★　————-««

[mistereerie]

Thinking about actually posting on here, so heres the first little bit I have. Idk how to use this app, so forgive me lol

The ever loyal dragon of the Ice Emperor, it haunts the people of the Never-Realm from far above. It's rumoured to communicate with the Emperor himself, thus able to carry out his might and will. Boreal's icy flesh shatters any weapon and kills any fire with it's icy breath, making it a truly terrifying force to reckon with.

<---------------------------------------------------------------------------->

Ok, this section is just here for me to dump a bunch of info on why i made certain design choices, so here we go.

I kept the general head design of the original because I thought it looked cool lol.

The jagged edges of the scales are supposed to mimic hardened snow, as if Boreal flying around had shaped those scales onto it. The same goes for the markings on it's face and horns, which unifies Boreal's look with the Blizzard Samurai's frostbitten appearance, which this was mainly about.

Boreal is completely made of ice, and it's underbelly is made from that blue ice you often see when a glacier (haha) flips over. It's much darker here, but the idea remains.

Another big change is the circuit board printing on Boreal's belly and tail. This was inspired by a post that someone (anon) had made on spinchip's tumblr, where Zane's robotic nature played a much bigger role (hence the mention of ice towers). Here is the original post:

Another change is the existance of Boreal's core. I thought it would be neat if it had one, as a way to be more "independant" from the Ice Emperor. It also glows.

Boreal in this redesign has no tongue or teeth. If it did, it was frozen over a long time ago.

Finally (for now), Boreal has wings inspired by a gyrfalcon (which i headcanon to be the species of Falcon) and in this rewrite Zane has lost himself to the staff, but somewhere deep inside, he still remembers and misses Falcon.

*Falcon specifically has darker feathers, but you get the idea.

[ask-trashhunter]

Ok folks!!! OOC post!! I have 16 Trash Hunter designs now, which means I should be able to run a bracket tournament that lines up pretty neatly! :D

First though I wanna introduce you to all the designs I've done so far!!

All of these have a unique name for voting purposes, but don't worry about remembering them all I'll show pictures of them every time!

Human Hunter 1

Starting off simple, this is Human Hunter 1! The OG, the classic, my pfp! Honestly I kinda rushed this design bc I made this blog on a whim, so I had to make the design super quick! I spent like a little over an hour on this, and I had only really spent 15 extra minutes beforehand thinking about their design, so that's around 1 and a half hour total...... Idk how long I spent on the others. Anyway, basically their top half is pretty human looking, EVERYTHING about them is as green as I managed to get it (green is Their Color to me) and then their bottom half is basically meant to just be a trashy sludge that sort of melts and merges with their landfill. It's hard to tell where the landfill starts and where Trash Hunter ends. Oh yeah- and I have like 3 drawings of them in this style, their skin tone varies a LOT between each drawing lol. um. you haven't seen. the third one btw haha. it's totally not of me and trash hunter holding hands why would you even say that

Human Hunter 2

Alright, this is my second "human" Trash Hunter design. I wasn't quite happy with my first one, so I wanted to change it to something more like this. However!! I never actually got to finish my design until I watched something that changed the way I thought forever. I finished this drawing just this monday actually, because I'd forgotten I had no finished drawing of Human Hunter 2. I want you to remember that giant grapply arm they have and those spider legs. Also, you'll notice there's a line next to them, and it says "Cop" under. That's how tall Copper would be (per my headcanons) next to the various Trash Hunter designs. They really vary in size. For reference, I headcanon Copper as 152 cm, or 5 feet. I'll add a size chart in at the end- they won't be 100% accurate to the pictures but it'll be in the same area at least.

Trashbag Hunter

Ok this. This is where my life changed. I watched the hodgepodge audio new year's patreon video and got friggen mentioned. Hi Raddagher if you're seeing this I'm still not normal about Trash Hunter. I started feeling a bit insecure about my designs like I'd been boring about them so I was trying to redeem myself. When I started imagining Trash Hunter as a fucking trash bag with grillspyd- er- collapsible grilling skewer thingies- for legs. And holy FUCK I could not get the image out of my head it's hillarious and adorable. Relisten to the episode and imagine Trash Hunter like this TRUST ME /nf

Either way, this is where I started to expand my horizons. The trash bag and the grillspyd are sort of reocurring atp. Also this was my Discord pfp for a while, now I've changed it. Might change it back eventually honestly? I don't do that. I don't repeat profile pictures ever. Ok I might have done that at some point. But for now my pfp stays the same. This is my PFP over on bluesky though!

Anyway this is the cutest shit I've ever imagined- the drawings that follow are mostly random doodles I've made at D&D or during class. BUT FIRST!!!

Pony Hunter

Ok so I play ponytown. I played a bit ages ago and then I almost forgot it existed, then my friendo kept showing off what they were doing on there and I'd seen a few vids on it recently and long story short I've made 16.5 new ponies on there and most of them are Hodgepodge Audio themed. Ponytown Pony Hunter doesn't usually wear that turtle but in this screenshot they do. The drawn version shows a bit more how I actually view them though. Oh and that IS a croissant behind their ear, thanks for asking!! (I've been waiting to say that for months, I'm overjoyed now)

Their tail is a compact mirror btw! And that tarp they have in game, those are actually wings, teehee! Oh and I forgot to say why they have croissants behind their ears- basically I was looking at the horns and realized one set of horns was kinda curvy in a croissant-y way. So I was like eh, heck it. Croissants.

Seagle Hunter

This is where the chaos started. I was at DND, and we were on a quest to help a god. We met a seagull who was definitely not a fucking seagull. I ended up getting downed and when we were like what, 5 hp away from killing whatever creature was wrecking our shit, our 2 remaining teammates fucking left us. My character Thomoras only survived because one of our teammates asked the seagull to intervene, and the seagull fucking killed the creature. Thank you, seagull. I called you Karl but I never got your real name. I'm sure you wouldn't have answered if I asked. Anyway!! All that talk about seagulls that session got me thinking "Seagull. Trash Hunter. Trash Hunter seagull." this is an accurate depiction of how I think Always. So yeah I drew them as a seagle (<- that's how I prefer writing seagull) and I was like hell yes let's draw them as more silly things because I focus better when I draw!

So I started asking people for ideas.

Goblet Hunter

And this is officially were I lost it I think. I mean, I learned to disregard canon with this. I have a few different Little Guys as I call them, and they're definitely not canon at all, BUT THEY'RE SO CUUUUTE HELLO!!! 😭😭 I asked my DND buddy to give me a random item and so I drewed this bc they said goblet....... I fucking love these so much honestly

Soup Hunter

I love soup. What more is there to say? They call me the soup enjoyer. I switch in whenever we're about to have soup. I soup my faves. I spam the soup emoji (🥣) when I get too excited for words. It had to be done! It just had to! If you want you can imagine the soup is garbage soup. Or you know those witch potions a lot of people made as a child? Using acorns and grass and flowers and whatever you could find? Could be that too. Or maybe it's brogle soup becos it's my fave and they are my fave :)

Perfectly Generic Object Hunter / PGO Hunter

It had to come eventually. The Homestuck reference. My friend said for me to make them cube and I was like "I heard Homestuck, yes? Homestuck it is."

So yeha they're a green cube now :3

Egg Hunter

They're an egg now. They're just a huge fucking egg and they roll around. They just roll around.

I'm not allowed to add more images hold your horses for the reblog, I'll get image IDs done before I post this though so next reblog should be up in not all that long

[tonyspank]

STAY READY (WHAT A LIFE)

"Here in this dimension, you and I are meant to be..."

Summary:  In the year of 2075, in a futuristic world where soulmates are determined by their markings, you serve as a police officer in a high-tech city. However, there's more to your identity than meets the eye, and your superior, Hannah, has secrets to reveal.

Warnings: death, bit of angst, philosophy, rushed ending

A/N: had mixed emotions abt posting this, might delete bc idk how to feel, hope u guys enjoy

also wanted to post this bc i’ll be going in a little “writing vacay” basically not gonna be posting anything until i finish majority of my fics

In the year 2075, technology has advanced to unimaginable heights. Everything was futuristic, from self-driving cars and flying drones to holographic displays and virtual reality. There were some parts that still remained untouched by technology: the lower-class side of the city.

The side you passed to get home from work, was a stark contrast to the high-tech world that existed just a few blocks away. Brick buildings a few years away from crumbling away, littered streets, and dimly lit alleyways were the norm in the forgotten part of town.

The lower-class side of the city seemed frozen in time, trapped in an era that had long been left behind.

You felt similar, feeling as if you were frozen in time. Or even as if time had been in a loop, every day is the same, repeating the same routine over and over again. You had joined the police force when you turned 19.

You can't remember anything before that; it felt as if your childhood life was a blur. You had always wondered about your past, but there were no answers to be found.

There were barely any crimes due to the fact that cameras were everywhere, along with drones that could identify you in less than a second. The constant surveillance made it nearly impossible for anyone to get away with anything.

You still found a way to rank up, taking on additional responsibilities and becoming a respected member of the force. Your dedication and hard work did not go unnoticed, and you were eventually promoted to a leadership position within the police force.

"Y/LN." You raise your eyebrow, twisting your chair around toward the familiar voice. Standing in the doorway is your higher-up, Hannah, the Chief of Police. She has a stern expression on her face, waiting for you to address her.

You quickly stand up, walking over to her to see what the matter is. Hannah always had a stern expression on her face, even when she was in a good mood.

But this time, it felt different.

Hannah motions for you to follow her, leading you down the hallway towards the conference room. You follow behind Hannah with ease, dodging and weaving between the mix of androids and human officers bustling about the police station.

Entering the conference room, Hannah slaps the folder against the desk, causing a loud thud that echoes in the room. Her eyes bore into yours as she starts explaining the details of a confidential mission having to deal with the president and his late daughter.

"The sons of bitches actually made the serum..." Hannah mutters, taking a photo out of the folder and sliding it across the table towards you. The photo reveals a vial filled with a glowing blue liquid, labeled "Project Seraphim."

Project Seraphim, a top-secret government initiative, was aimed at resurrecting the president's daughter, who had tragically passed away. Ashely Redfield, the president's daughter and a young girl who never got to experience the fullness of life, was the inspiration behind Project Seraphim. The serum was meant to bring her back to life, offering a glimmer of hope to her grieving father.

"...years ago." Hannah finishes, clenching her jaw. "Dr. Murphy finished Project Seraphim and never informed anyone about its success. He kept it hidden, for what reason? I don't know. All I know is that you need to find him and get the serum. This came directly from the president, and you're the only one I trust to carry out this mission."

You eye the file on the desk, which contains all the information about Project Seraphim and Dr. Murphy's whereabouts. With a nod of your head, you agree, "Understood."

-

It was nighttime when you left the station, rain falling from the dark sky, the only thing lighting up the city being the neon signs and holograms flickering in the distance.

For the first time in years, you felt...overwhelmed. The weight of the mission and the responsibility entrusted to you by the president seemed to bear down on your shoulders. You continued to stroll through the rain-soaked streets, rolling up your sleeve slightly, revealing the mark on your forearm.

The mark was a symbol to show you had a soulmate out there. Your soulmate was supposed to have the same marking as your own, connecting the two of you in a deep and unbreakable bond.

It had always been a source of comfort and hope, knowing that somewhere in this vast city, your soulmate was waiting for you.

You run your hand over your marking, feeling the raised texture and tracing the intricate design. The feeling was soothing, even more so than the raindrops cascading down your skin, which seemed to echo the rhythm of your heartbeat, as if nature itself were in tune with the anticipation in your chest.

With a deep and long sigh, you cover up your marking, carrying on with your walk home.

Your routine has been broken. A figure stood at the edge of the bridge, which separated the two halves of your town. The figure's silhouette was illuminated by the dim streetlights, casting a shadow on the bridge's worn-out wooden planks.

You furrowed your eyebrows, breaking the cycle, and walking toward the figure, who seemed to not care about the rain that fell on them. Only a few feet away, you stood beside the now-revealed woman, who stared ahead, watching the small ripples forming in the river below.

She was gorgeous; more than gorgeous, she was enchanting, captivating even in the gloomy night. Her eyes held a hint of sadness, reflecting the weight of her thoughts. You couldn't help but be drawn to her mysterious aura, wondering what had brought her to this desolate bridge on such a rainy night.

Her lips began to curve in a small smile, and you had nearly missed the soft chuckle that escaped her lips. She turns to you, smiling softly, her eyes pouring into yours—eye contact that felt both intimate and unsettling. It was as if she could see right through you, unraveling the depths of your soul with just a glance.

You found yourself captivated by her gaze, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of her eyes. Then you heard her for the first time, your heartbeat racing more than it ever has before. Was this healthy?

"The rain can be quite therapeutic, wouldn't you agree?" Her voice was like a gentle melody, soothing yet mysterious. You feel the raindrops on your skin, cooling and cleansing, as if washing away the weight of the world. It's as if her words have a magical power, bringing a sense of calm and clarity to your troubled mind.

"Yes, it is," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your eyes away from her. The way she spoke and the way she looked at you made you feel like she could understand every hidden part of your being. She gives you another smile before turning her attention back to the river. "I'm Jenna if you were wondering."

"Y/N."

"I like watching the rain hit the water—seeing the ripples in the water as each raindrop creates its own unique pattern." Your eyes don't drift away from the woman, watching her side profile as she gazes out at the rain-soaked scenery.

"Even watching the raindrops that hit the dock is mesmerizing," she adds. "There are more than 200,000 raindrops that fall a minute, yet each one has its own individual impact on the world around us. People take rain for granted, complaining about how it ruins their plans or makes them wet, but they fail to appreciate the beauty and significance of each raindrop."

She continues, "Rain is essential for life, nourishing plants and hell even replenishing our water sources. It's a reminder of nature's power and the interconnectedness of all living things."

She turns back toward you, her eyes flickering with a sense of wonder. "Don't you kind of think we're like raindrops? Each of us may seem small and insignificant on our own, but together we have the power to create a ripple effect and make a difference in the world." She smiles as you stare at her, confused and intrigued by her analogy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get too philosophical there. It's just something I've been thinking about lately. But hey, maybe it's something worth pondering, right?" She chuckles, breaking the momentary silence between you two.

You break into a smile. "No, don't apologize. I actually love that analogy. It's a beautiful way to look at things." Jenna's smile increases, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. "I'm glad you think so," she replies.

"Sometimes, it's easy to feel like our actions don't matter in the grand scheme of things. But if we can believe that even the smallest acts of kindness or positive change can create a ripple effect, then maybe we can find the motivation to keep making a difference. Like you taking the time out of your night to listen to me," she whispers the last part, breaking the eye contact she's been holding and looking down at her hands.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off by the angelic voice. "Thank you; it was really nice talking to you, but I have to go now."

Jenna walks away in a hurry, leaving you standing on the wooden bridge alone, feeling a mixture of confusion and gratitude. You watch her disappear into the distance, wondering what impact your conversation had on her.

-

It's been days since your mission and days since your conversation with Jenna. You find yourself replaying the conversation in your mind, trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind her words. The memory of her angelic voice and the intensity of the moment still linger, leaving you with a sense of longing to know if she's okay.

A knock is heard at your door, interrupting your thoughts. John, a fellow officer in your field, hands you a file with a frown on his face. "Homicide," he says, scratching his beard. "We've got a new case, and it's a messy one. I thought you should take a look."

You quickly skim through the file while John briefs you on the details. "A young girl in her 20s was found dead three days ago, but there's no sign of a fight nor any obvious cause of death. We have her body in the laboratory for further examination, but so far, the autopsy results have been inconclusive. It's like she just... died. No witnesses, no suspects, nothing. Her names—"

Jenna?

"—Jenna." Your heart drops, flipping back and forth between shock and disbelief. Jenna. The same Jenna you met on the bridge that night, and the same Jenna that is supposedly your soulmate.

The marking on her back is the same as the marking on your arm. You feel a chill run down your spine as you realize you met your soulmate that night. Only once you find out do you realize that she is now gone forever.

What could have happened to Jenna, and why did fate bring you together only to tear you apart so suddenly?

"Y/LN? You alright?" John mutters, snapping you out of your thoughts. You eye the officer, still lost in your own world.

No, you weren't going to let the only person who brought you happiness after such a long time slip away without a fight.

Without a word, you jump up from your chair, pushing past your co-workers and rushing out of the office. You were going to use that serum on Jenna, not the president's daughter.

You burst through the doors of the laboratory, Hannah standing there with a puzzled expression on her face. "Y/LN, what's going on?" she asks, you were the last person she expected to see bursting into the lab.

Ignoring her question, you turn to a worker at the lab and urgently ask, "Where is Jenna Ortega's body? I need to see her immediately." The worker looks taken aback by your sudden request but quickly directs you to the morgue.

You remember the room number, then return back to Hannah, bumping past her and into the room she had just exited, the serum had been held here until the president was able to make his way down to your city, fortunately, he had been too busy to visit the lab earlier.

The four-digit code that you set and remember with ease is punched into the safe, unlocking with a loud beep. You grab the blue serum, turning around, only to be met with a gun pointed at your face. The person holding the gun is none other than Hannah; her expression cold and determined.

"Damnit, Y/LN. Don't make me do this," she mumbles, taking the safety off her gun. "Who told you about Jenna, huh?" You freeze, your mind racing to figure out how Hannah found out about Jenna.

"You knew? You knew Jenna was my soulmate?" Your voice trembles as you try to comprehend the situation. Hannah pauses for a moment, her grip on the gun tightening. "I've known for a while now," she admits. "There's some things you don't understand. You have an old soul, and I like that about you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You grit, confusion, and anger bubbling up inside you. Hannah's eyes narrow, a flicker of sadness crossing her face.

"You're not human, Y/N. You're something more, something special. You were created by SynthoTech, a company that specializes in advanced artificial intelligence and genetic engineering. They designed you to possess enhanced abilities and a unique consciousness, and it was either to terminate you or let you work for the government.

You're unlike any other Android that's been created before. Your thoughts and emotions are not just programmed responses but rather a genuine experiences. You have the capacity to feel joy, love, and even pain.

It's both a gift and a burden as you navigate a world that may not fully understand or accept you. I don't know why Jenna was your soulmate; I really don't get it, but we couldn't let you get off your program. So I had to eliminate her."

Hannah lets out a sigh. "Fucking hell, Y/N. Just set down the serum and let's figure out a way to keep you safe. No one has to know about this, okay? I can reset your program--"

"No!" You interrupt, "I'm not going to let you erase my memories and reset me like some kind of...fuck...no. You killed Jenna, and now you want to erase her from my existence too? This is so fucked up."

"The world is a fucked up place, Y/LN. What do expect to happen if you inject Jenna with that serum? You think the president is gonna let an android and human have a happily ever after with the cure that was made for his daughter?"

You shake your head, anger and frustration coursing through you. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be part of some twisted experiment or to be caught in the middle of political agendas. Jenna deserved better than this, and so do I."

"And so did Ashely; Jenna got to live her life, but Ashely was robbed of that opportunity." You take a step closer to Hannah, your eyebrows furrowed together tightly.

"Do you fucking hear yourself? You also robbed Jenna of the opportunity to live her life. You killed her for something she couldn't control! You're a hypocrite."

Hannah's face pales as your words sink in. She takes a step back, her eyes filled with guilt and remorse. The weight of her actions finally dawns on her, leaving her speechless and unable to defend herself.

Hannah lowers her gun and says, "Hurry." You hesitate for a moment, conflicted by the sudden change in Hannah's demeanor. "What?"

"Hurry up before I change my mind," Hannah says, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be responsible for any more pain and suffering."

Taking your chance, you run out of the room and toward Jenna with the serum in your hand.

You unlock the door to the morgue and step inside, the cold air hitting you as you scan the room for Jenna Ortega's body. She lies on a stainless steel table, pale and lifeless. You rush to her side, praying that it's not too late. Injecting the serum into your soulmate, you watch anxiously as her body stirs and color returns to her cheeks.

You whisper words of encouragement, urging Jenna to fight for her life.

Relief washes over you as Jenna's eyes flutter open, and she takes a deep breath. "Y/N," she whispers weakly, her voice barely audible. You hold her hand tightly, grateful that you were able to save her from the brink of death.

You roll up your sleeve, revealing the marking on your forearm, silently explaining that you're her soulmate. Jenna's gaze shifts to your forearm, her eyes widening with recognition as she traces her finger over the marking.

[lululandd]

pretence;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1,111

warnings: you’re kortac and also ghost’s ex, fluff

notes: written with my oc’s wholeass background in mind so idk if this will make that much sense (im too shy to ask someone to beta)

summary:

You know that sweet precipice right between being awake and falling asleep? That’s where you happily were before rudely disturbed by a knock on your door. With a groan and a grumble, you gingerly sat up on the 141 base’s creaky bed ready to greet whoever it is on the other side with a glare.

It was Simon.

“What?” A sore remembrance fills your heart and you unconsciously clench your jaw.

There was almost an apologetic look in his eyes when you stared up at him, “Wanted to check up on your arm.”

“It’s fine, Simon.” you vaguely gestured around you, “There’s like two hundred people here. If I speak a little louder, Roze is next door ready to help, or re-break my arm, depending on why I made a ruckus.”

You see him subtly shift his weight from one leg to the other, “What’s wrong with you? Can’t sleep?” When he didn't reply, you asked him with a resigned sigh, “Do you wanna come in?”

He side-stepped inside the moment you opened the door a little wider. You see him clench and unclench his fist reflexively inside his jacket pocket, apprehension emanating from his being as if he had done something wrong and is afraid of oncoming consequences.

Seeing him in such distress annoyed you a little bit. He was still the same man you dated ages ago, with the same mannerisms and same behaviour. The same Simon Riley who broke up with you out of the blue with a single post-it note and a dead phone number. As much as that broke your heart and trust in him—and anyone else that came after—it would be a lie if you said you don't have some lingering feelings towards him.

“Allright, bend over.” You instructed.

When he bent over with face away and his ass facing towards you, you couldn’t help but suppress a laugh. “The other way, idiot.”

He straightened his back, turned around, then bent at the hips and knees, making his face somewhat level to yours. You can see the fine lines on the outer corners of his eyes along with the sun-damage where his mask doesn’t cover his face.

A small little peck wouldn’t hurt, would it? The evil little part of your brain assures you that this is completely normal and you’re just helping him feel better so he can sleep.

Feeling you kiss his mask, he stood back up and removed it startlingly quick, making you jump back a little. He shoved the mask in his pocket before fixing his hair, shuffling it around, making it look a little more decent.

Moving slightly to his side as he lowered himself, you lift your hand and gently cradle the far side of his cheek before landing a soft kiss on his temple, his crooked nose, the corner of his mouth, and finally where his dimple would be if he smiled.

It showed itself as he actually did smile, first towards the wall in front of him, then towards you. “That it? Remember getting more back then.”

You tapped his cheek lightly, “Uh huh.”

He looked around your room as he stood up, his knees not so subtly cracking as he did. “Aight. Just making sure you’re fine.”

The man was always like this. You knew if he did something remotely affectionate, he had mulled over the action for hours, if not days. Simon cares about a lot of people, but he has learnt from years of experience it’s much easier for him to care from afar. Looking up records to see how people progress, eavesdropping conversations, pretending to be at the medic building the same time as the people he wanted to check up on, but if he comes up to someone personally it means he didn’t get the answer he sought for and nothing he previously did alleviates the worry and concern.

Studying his bare face, you saw something that made you want to laugh again, so you dragged him to the little cubicle of a bathroom and stood him in front of the sink with you next to him. The mirror was at a completely wrong height for him so he had to bend and brace himself on the small sink. The tight space could barely fit you both.

“Do you see it?” You started, smiling ear to ear as you looked at him from the mirror.

Simon stared at himself, then at you in the mirror, the actual you, and then back at himself. “All I’m seeing is self restraint to not pin you to the sink right now.”

You groaned at that, but tried to keep focus. “Your face has three shades.“ you pointed at the obvious discoloration around his eyes, “ There’s the tan not covered by the balaclava,” then you pointed at the more subtle tanned blend around his mouth up to his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. “The part not covered by the skull mask, and then the skull shaped part that’s safe from all the sun. Do you see?”

His eyes widened when he finally caught on to what you said and scrambled closer to the mirror, prodding his face. “Bloody fucking hell, I look like a fucking muppet.”

“You know, since it’s already tanned in the shape of a skull…You could use it as a base for a face tattoo.” It was now his turn to glare at you, so you continued, “Wouldn’t it be really funny if one day you get unmasked by an enemy and then they just see another skull?”

He was about to retort when he stopped himself as he saw you try to hide a yawn.

“Get some sleep, lov—“ He stopped mid word as he caught himself. “I mean, yeah you need some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling his hand on your lower back as he guided you out of the shower brought you back to that distant feeling of safety and security that was always present when you’re around him. Maybe he wants another chance, maybe he really was just worried about your broken arm, but you won’t know if you don’t do anything about it.

“Goodnight, Simon.” Twisting away from his hold, you faced him and raised your good arm and leaned in for a hug.

It came as a surprise when he stepped back and held you a little way away from him. “Don’t. It’ll put pressure on your arm.”

“How about you start worrying when we get home and it’s just the two of us?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna take care of me once you’re on leave right? Make sure I don’t go hugging people or sleep on my side or accidentally bang my bad elbow on the edge of a very sharp kitchen counter.”

“You’re fucking evil.”

Despite the acid bite in his tone, he showed up at your door two weeks later, both arms gingerly wrapped around your back, enveloping you in a gentle hug.

[kiivg]

As someone who loves to work on lineart but struggles with details, it was really inspiring seeing the progress of the hawke/sebastian drawing!! Thanks for sharing~ I would love to see more in the future if you’re up for it ^^

.Tysm!!!! I do love making timelapses and rewatching them myself to figure out if I’m going wrong somewhere, it’s like resetting your eyes mid picture. I do also love seeing other people’s processes too. I realised the other day why I like digital art and drawing in ink traditionally, it’s because I get to keep the actual process of the image, in 99% of my sketches traditionally I’ve drawn messily in pink, and drawn cleanly over it in black, and with digital art it’s just there on another layer. I am such a huge fan of process that it outweighs that final piece of art for me.

.I also think there’s a lot that can be learned from an artist’s process over idk a tutorial they make; I remember a while ago I asked another artist (I cannot remember who girlie mb ✋😬🤚) about drawing hands, and they made this nice little post that did help me but probably not how it would be expected, because with that post I realised my issue was with the foundation shapes I was drawing weren’t blocky enough for what I wanted. A simple “this is my process” from someone else helped me figure that out.

.For detailing! I find that not actually initially sketching everything helps a lot, (in my Sebhawke I actually add in Sebastian as an afterthought lmao it was just going to be Hawke on his own 😂) both in the fact that if you think of something mid picture you can just fit it in with little problem, and sketching loosely helps to free up and relax the hand if you’re getting a bit stiff drawing solely lineart. Also, I don’t know if this applies to anyone else but sometimes I’ll get a bit stuck on drawing a certain part of the image (maybe it’s a hand or idk how the clothes are supposed to lay) and it’s a really simply solution to just sketch it over the basic sketch, so it’s a bit more detailed and easier to lineart. Like idk what part of my brain was like “once the sketch is finished you can NEVER go back to it” because that’s stupid as hell; I’ll be on shading and realise that I could wedge something in somewhere and just go straight back to sketching.

.I do think that heavy detail is something that has to be built up to though, it’s not like something that can be done instantly without probably burning out or ending up hating detailing work. It’s also mental to look back on my stuff from like 2020 that I thought was so detailed for my skill at the time, and then comparing it to what I was making in 2023 which has as much detail in as I could manage; like that is progress and there’s no way I could have made that level of detail before I’d built myself up to it. And that compared to what I’m making now 😭 ……bro… I think my main issue is that I don’t know exactly how to flesh out medieval / fantasy stuff in a way that looks proper, just from like actual lack of knowledge about the time period even though I’m 👀🥴😩👌 about it, whereas cyberpunk was considerably easier because just slap a bunch of fans and wires and boxes and you’re good to go 👌.

.As an added note, detailing can literally just be drawing like a 3d shoelace instead of just a single line to represent a shoelace. Then you start drawing the eyelets in another picture, and then you do the proper stitching on the shoes, or maybe a distinctive tread, then maybe there’s buckles or velcro or a designer label on them. It’s not something to hyper fixate on all in one go. Literally just drawing the seams on clothing adds a layer of detail, (and also shows form!) and now I’m like rarely ever not drawing them because it’s just subconscious for me to add them in.

.Realistically I’d like to make proper timelapses that are actual screen recordings as opposed to what CSP shows because there’s probably a bunch of times where I’m just sitting there thinking about stuff or getting distracted by research, and that doesn’t show in my current timelapses; I don’t just one bomb these pictures!!! I faff for a fair bit of it!!! Also rotation and zoom on the canvas, the CSP recordings are kind of deceptive in omitting those.

.Anyway I have a timelapse tag for all my timelapse stuff, which is…. not a lot but STILL!! Also there’s this timelapse of my zevwarden picture from a bit ago that I never uploaded whoopsie 😘💕.