#mostly part 4 though

[shiroganeryo]

I think very often about what kind of father Chuuya would be and with how considerate he was with Akutagawa in the drama CD, it's safe to say he's great at taking care of others 😌

I'm also very weak for this one particular kind of setting, of a parent taking a nap with their child, so I decided to be self-indulgent. It's the cutest thing ever 🥺

If anyone's interested, there's more info on Fumiya here!

[whos-hotter-jjba]

Hottest JJBA Outfit Bracket - Higashikata Tomoko Preliminary Poll

[anghraine]

My daily kudos digest always brightens my day (upside of having written so many fics even if I haven't posted or updated anything on AO3 only started a WIP on DW, shh in a year). However, kudos on shorter fics I'm personally very fond of, but which aren't my "major" fics in terms of popularity, are always particularly nice and today was like... a red-letter kudos day :D

[welcometoteyvat]

jing yuan and yanqing are giving zhongli and xiao if the latter’s canon relationship was Actually fanon’s made up father figure/adopted child dynamic

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[saturdaynightghostclub]

Highway Hypnosis

Chapter 3: Driftwood Craquelure

It’s common sense not to hike alone. And I wouldn’t, honest, if I felt like I had any other choice. But Joshy’s busy and Jasper’s weird and Len’s dead, which leaves me with me. I think I should probably make some girl friends, if there’s such a thing to be found in Evergreen. My whole life, I’ve been surrounded by girls pretty much exclusively, with the exception of my time up here; the town is infested with men, whose innate need to conquer sends them north and north and north until they can’t get any further up without leaving the country. They’re alright otherwise, I suppose, if only one can excuse those socialized facets of their existence which, under a very specific set of circumstances, can turn them into irredeemable monsters. I’m probably being unfair to them, the poor babies, but the fact is I think I would be much happier here if I had a couple of girls around to talk to.

There’s a trailhead off Main Street that leads to the river. Forever and a day ago, someone built a bridge over the water, and then that bridge collapsed. The eventual solution appears to be the massive piece of driftwood upon which I’m currently precariously balanced. We’re an hour from the coast, which means someone must have driven to the beach and somehow retrieved this log to use as a bridge. I wonder why whoever it was didn’t just use a felled tree or something; it seems like it would have saved them an awful lot of trouble. I’ll admit though, the driftwood is striking. It’s marled and bleached, looking more sculptural than natural. What little bark remains on its sides is cracked and peeling; I remember learning in some blowoff class or another that the cracks in an oil painting are called the craquelure. This thing is a work of art.

When in doubt, three points of contact. This was Len’s evergreen advice in precarious outdoor situations. Three points, girl! Two feet and a hand!

This is a way I can honor him, I think. I’ll follow the advice I never did when he was alive, and maybe I’ll come out without so many cuts and bruises. Deep breath. I unbuckle the chest strap on my backpack, remembering another Len-ism: If you’re going to fall in the water, make sure you can wiggle out of your backpack, just in case. I crouch, trying to center myself and hoping I look more like a surfer in motion than a creepy forest gremlin. Three points, girl. I lower my right hand, thinking as I do that this probably wasn’t what Len meant, but there’s no going back now. Feeling slightly silly in spite of the fact that I’m probably the only human being on this trail at the moment, I wind up with something of a spider-crawl to the end of the log–is this what you wanted, you old freak?--and swing my legs over the edge to hop off onto the ground. I might as well just walk through the river on my way back.

I’m something like four miles into the trail when I get the half-disappointing signal to head home. When your water’s half gone, you’re half done. I hope Len can see me from wherever he is, finally following his lead the way I was always meant to. It’s a good thing, in the end; my body’s not used to the up and down of these trails, and I can feel my muscles protesting with each foot of incline. My head is pounding, probably from a combination of heat and dehydration, and my hands are swollen and near-useless, blood pooling into my fingertips from where I swung them at my sides. Hold onto your little backpack straps and that won’t happen. The man had a solution for everything. He was never a professional, to my knowledge; he just wasn’t afraid. If he knew to land with your whole foot when jumping from rock to rock, it’s because he jumped onto his toes one too many times and it landed him on his ass. If he wasn’t afraid, there’s a chance he was reckless too. I don’t want to think what that might have meant for him in the end.

I take the downhill slope quickly–If you lean back and lead with your hips you’ll go faster–and conquer the driftwood at my own pace. It’s hot, hotter than I can ever remember in Evergreen, although maybe it’s the eight-mile trek talking, and when I emerge from beneath the dense cover of the trees it’s like walking into the beam of a floodlight. My skin is flushed and hot, my legs marred up to my thighs with tiny scrapes from thistle and god knows what else, and for some reason I’m thrilled about it. It’s always hard to remember the misery you’ve experienced once you’re in the clear; it’s some kind of protective mechanism, maybe, to keep us sane in the face of difficulty. Nice of our brains to do that for us–then again, the next injury always hurts twice as bad. I’m in the clear, though. I’m starting over. For the day, for my life. I should probably get some electrolytes in me.

The general store is blessedly air conditioned. I make a beeline for the refrigerators along the back wall, opening one up without seeing what’s inside, just to bask in its chill.

“You’re letting all the cold air out,” Jasper’s voice sounds from behind a book. I look over my shoulder to see him, as ever, with his legs crossed on the counter.

“Let me have this,” I reply, testing the waters. It’s been a week and a half. I think we’re warming up to each other, but I can’t be certain.

Jasper shrugs, lowering the book. “Whatever.”

I can feel his eyes on me as I make my selection–screw electrolytes, I’m going for caffeine–and when I bring my drink to the register he looks mildly inconvenienced as he’s forced to swing his legs off the counter and do his job. They’re long legs; I’ve noticed before, but really, it’s almost impressive that he manages to have such control over his limbs when he’s working with the proportions of a benevolent spider. Those long legs means he’s got a few good inches on me, and if I look up at him through my eyelashes every so often, then what?

Jasper clears his throat. “You, uh. You decided to change things up today,” he says, sliding the can (which proclaims itself to be full of tea, but which we all know to contain pure rocket fuel). I raise an eyebrow, and he clarifies: “You usually go for mint. Today you got the peach.”

“Huh,” I say, wondering how on Earth he managed to pick that up, “you’re right. I’m surprised you remembered.”

Jasper shrugs, averting his gaze for a moment. “People fall into patterns,” he says. Fair enough, I suppose. I reach across the counter to take the can, and before I can fully comprehend what’s happening Jasper’s got his hand wrapped around my wrist. My gaze shoots upward, ready to either wrench myself free of his grasp or tell him exactly where he can shove his patterns, but whatever fire had ignited itself in my chest is doused by the delicate arrangement of his features. “I’m sorry,” he says, letting go of me, “I don’t know why I–shit, I’m sorry,”

He looks pained, stunned–like he couldn’t have anticipated his action any more than I could have. I’m seized once again by the desire, impractical and mortifying, to be close to him. If I took his hand, would it be alright? Would it communicate what I wanted to say–the “it’s okay” without the “do it again”?

“Let’s start over,” I say, as softly as I can without slipping into meekness. Jasper nods, exhaling.

“Would it be alright if I stopped by the house later? I have…I have something of Len’s I’d like to return. A book,” he says, shrinking back from himself in real time.

He’s practically a stranger. I haven’t known him in eleven years, and if Joshy’s to be believed at least five of those years were fraught with tension. I should set a boundary before I find myself alone with him, starting something out of vague nostalgia that I can’t finish. And so, when I tell him “Sure, come over whenever,” it’s the ten-year-old troublemaker I’m inviting into my home and not the lanky shell of regret standing across the counter from me.

[crescentfool]

happy cryptid splatfest everyone! a little contribution to team aliens based on this song! 🛸

[experthiese]

just know that I'm doing with lupin iii what I did with ghost trick

"oh come follow me haha, I have a pkmn verse". you FOOLS, you hath fallen for my trap. my propaganda is neverending and it is inescapable: you will watch this show

[whysopasta]

i have actually kept working on my comic despite saying i wasn't going to until i got to a dentist (my tooth hasn't been hurting luckily) but of course im out of ink until friday -_- sigh there's always something

[basslinegrave]

have to send 2 packages today and pick one up and then i wanna draw... the sooner i get that done the better but i have to wait a while now before i can go. but im also getting a headache oughhhh whys the weather like it is

[crunchworldsupreme]

Rate my setup

[duckapus]

The Goomba Who Sold the World AU

Through some cosmic fluke(or just an accident during 3 and 4′s SMG training) an average Goomba with an average life and average ambitions gains the ability to see the Code and use Commands.He doesn’t really do much with it at first, just experimenting with the Commands to see what they do and using them for some minor quality-of-life improvements.

Then he gets to thinking, if these powers can improve his life maybe they can improve other lives too. So he starts subtly changing more things, giving the people around him what he thinks they need in a seemingly selfless gesture. But it...doesn’t work? They’re not happy, despite (because of) the changes, and he doesn’t understand. They should be happy! They should be grateful! Can’t they see that things are better now?! So he doubles down, trying to find something in the Command list that’ll fix things. And then he finds it, way down at the bottom of the Last Resorts section.

[command]>Manual_Override: Characters who see User will obey User without question and defend User at all costs. Does not affect Guardians, Avatars, Administrators, or Outside Entities.

And just like his previous commands, he uses this one as quietly and subtly as possible, not wanting to be a leader(or so he tells himself) but willing to become one for the sake of his Better World.

All of his happens so quietly that it goes completely unnoticed by the crew until they see a broadcast showing The Goomba Who Sold The World telling everyone to Find Mario and the four SMGs, along with instructions on how His World is going to improve.

The only ones not affected besides them are Lil Coding(since it’s the manifestation of 3 and 4′s code so their protection extends to it), Melony(its the one good thing that came from her getting possessed by Niles) and Steve(his Minecraft Server is a separate universe that happens to be connected to the main one, and he didn’t get uploaded like the Newgrounds characters did. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it). And despite there being quite a few powerhouses in the group, it’s still them against Literally Everyone Else(or at least everyone who saw the broadcast), so they’re definitely not gonna have an easy time of it.

[miodiodavinci]

biting and attacking past me for being lazy with this .oto and only .otoing half of each sample so they could move on to the immediate gratification of hearing the vb in action

[bedlamsbard]

I think my brain might be considering transitioning back to Asgardians, which would be great because then I could finish Morning! as long as it waits until after I finish this last chapter of Horizon.

[here-there-were-dragons]

that’s just a tundra fae veilspun

[crescentfool]

hello everyone! now that team picking is out i wanted to say that i am participating in artfight for the first time this year on team werewolves! (its the color blue. i love the color blue.)

you can find my profile here! https://artfight.net/~crescentfool