#proud of myself teehee. anyways.

[sunnfish]

happiest of birthdays to my dear friend @aranarumei and their lovely fic the anomalous agate.... I have selfishly rendered my favorite scene with my favoritest guy sorry. but its also with love for the whole thing. anyways this is a scene from the start of chapter 4.... it's read left to right. Also if you somehow found this from looking at jeweler richard tags then i'm sorry but also theres way more seigi and richard in the whole fic. it's really good and awesome. if you're here from the sasaki to miyano general tag then im also sorry. look at my favorite side characters boy.

anyways. rest of the comic under the cut !!

the end... hope everybody enjoyed and also everybody should just go read the original fic. peace and love on planet anomalous agate.

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

maybe I haven't been looking at the sky

post-sonic 3 fic about stone. stobotnik too. oh yeah baby it's time for some pain.

word count is a bit under 3.6k

featuring: grief like so much grief, lots of hurt, a smidgen of comfort, second-person narration, so many goddamn timestamps, did I mention hurt, acknowledgement of shadow the hedgehog being like an actual teenager, shadow the hedgehog being kind of like a weird cat, the smallest hint of sonadow, and, of course, hurt.

have fun! >:3

p.s.: the title is from Maud Gone by Car Seat Headrest because I like that song and it fits too well

June 24, 2024, 3:26 AM

You wake up.

You don't immediately open your eyes, though, because if you stay in the darkness, you can pretend that everything is alright. You can pretend that nothing's changed.

You can pretend he's still here.

You open your eyes.

It's still dark, and you can only just barely make out the hotel room ceiling above you.

You can hear the soft pitter-patter of the London rain against the window.

You spare a glance at the clock on the bedside table.

You know you won't be able to fall asleep.

Four hours of rest is enough, anyway.

You get up.

You take a shower.

Your reflection in the mirror seems to bore holes through your skull.

You brush your teeth, and you get dressed.

You work, because you have nothing else to do.

You go to get shitty hotel coffee and breakfast.

On instinct, you grab two cups.

You decide you don't want coffee anymore.

June 24, 2024, 12:58 PM

Your lunch is tasteless, and not just because it's British.

You think you would've laughed at that only 24 hours ago.

You don't think about if he would've.

You don't have much to work on.

Your hands itch. Everything feels so still. So static.

You try not to think about it. You try to think about anything else.

You think about how cold it is for a summer day.

You think about the smell of rain on the sidewalk.

You don't look at the sky.

You count your steps to fill your mind with something, anything.

It takes you precisely 673 steps to get back to your hotel from the lunch spot.

You don't think about how odd it feels to walk so slowly.

You don't think about how lonely you are.

You don't think about the Crab sunk in the Thames.

You don't think about him.

June 24, 2024, 7:31 PM

It's been 24 hours since it happened.

You feel empty.

You feel empty and sweaty and gross despite the wind chill and you shower again.

Your reflection stares at you again. It accuses you, blames you. It says it's your fault.

In its eyes, you can almost see something like him.

You cover the mirror.

You get yourself ready for bed, and you lay there under the hotel duvet, air conditioner blasting, and you shiver, but you don't get up to change it.

The Doctor prefers it cold, so–

You stare at the ceiling. It looks blurrier than usual.

You don't fall asleep for another few hours.

June 30, 2024, 1:08 PM

Montana is certainly better than London. At least, you'd say so.

It was a good idea to keep paying the lease on the Mean Bean. It's something you know.

You can't decide whether the familiarity makes you feel better or worse.

At least G.U.N. doesn't want anything to do with you, which you are more than welcome to.

Your “house,” if it can even be called that, what with its studio apartment style, in the back of the Mean Bean feels foreign to you, but the warmth feels nice.

The café stays cold.

You say it's to save money on the heating bill.

You were always good at pretending.

July 23, 2024, 4:23 PM

It's been exactly one month.

The hedgehog visits you today.

You know you should be plotting against him. You should be planning your revenge. You should be scheming to get rid of him once and for all–

But you're just so tired.

And in the end, he didn't want what happened, either.

He smiles at you as he orders a hot chocolate, but you can see the tightness in his face.

You bring up the other hedgehog, Shadow, and he falters for a moment.

You don't smile, not really, but your face softens as you come to an understanding.

You can't talk about him, but listening to Sonic talk about Shadow helps to dull the pain for a moment.

Before he leaves, Sonic gives you a sad smile, and tells you he's sorry about the Doctor.

Your throat closes up.

You stand still as the door opens and closes.

Your hands are shaking as you close.

August 16, 2024, 1:15 PM

Ever since he visited you the first time, Sonic has come back every other day for a hot chocolate and a chat.

The kid seems to always have something to say. You suppose he's hyperactive in many ways.

He's nice to you, and a part of you hates it, but you can't get yourself to get rid of the kid. Even if he says he stops by to check on how you're doing, you know it's helpful for him, too.

Deep down, you feel guilty for commiserating with the enemy. The guilt is something you opt to push down, though, because it makes you think of him.

You're interrupted when Sonic walks through the door with his human quasi-father in tow. Tom, you think his name is.

If you're honest, he looks like shit. His arm is in a cast and he's walking with a slight limp. The bags under his eyes are nothing to scoff at, either, but he gives you a soft smile.

He only orders a water, and drinks it slowly as Sonic chatters at his side about the shop.

You know he's been worried about Tom, and you're glad to see he's alright, but a twinge of resentment bites at you.

Why couldn't have you gotten a happy ending, too?

August 27, 2024, 1:00 PM

He's back again, and he brought his friends: the fox and the echidna.

You freeze for a moment when you see the fox. The conversation you had with him plays in the back of your mind and you relentlessly shoo it away.

The echidna is still annoying, but it's funny to see him order a shot of espresso and then immediately choke when he takes one sip.

When you're not trying to fight each other, they're good kids. You appreciate the effort they're making, at the very least.

It's nice to have noise to fill up the air. Helps quiet the thoughts a little bit, especially when the shop doesn't get much traffic these days.

Chatting with the alien children gives you something to do, too, since you can't do latte art anymore.

Your hands start shaking the moment you try.

So, you listen to them talk: teasing each other, making bad jokes, ranting about this or that.

When they leave, they all say goodbye, and while the silence is still suffocating, you're finding it slightly easier to breathe.

September 10, 2024, 8:01 AM

It's his birthday today, and you can't get yourself out of bed.

You can't even properly cry. Quiet tears roll down your face and stain your pillow.

You can't get back to sleep, either. You don't know if you would even want to. You don't know if you could bear to see his face in your dreams.

You stare at the brick wall, bare of photos or posters or plans, and you can't get yourself to look away.

September 10, 2024, 1:30 PM

The door to your “house” opens and you jump from your bed.

Team Sonic broke into your house.

You would be angry. You should be angry. But you can't muster up the energy.

Sonic says something that you don't register, and Knuckles proudly holds out a messily-made cupcake in front of him.

When you get a closer look…

Oh.

It's for the Doctor.

When you look up, Sonic is giving you that same sad smile he did the first time he came to the cafe. He says he knows how you've been going through a hard time, and that since today is the Doctor’s birthday, he wanted to do something special.

It takes everything in your being to not burst out sobbing in front of the kids.

You all sit around the cupcake and sing to it.

You falter on the name. They don't seem to mind.

You can't bear to eat any of the cupcake, so you stick it in the fridge.

The second those kids are out the door, you cry so hard you can barely stand.

September 12, 2024, 1:12 PM

Tails bursts through the shop door, startling you and the single customer sitting at a table in the corner.

He starts talking, so fast you can only make out a few words.

Before you can tell him to slow down, Sonic runs in after him, smiling brighter than the sun and presenting to you…

…Shadow?

You nearly short-circuit.

How is he alive?

You ask as much, and they all shrug their shoulders, minus Shadow who stands there staring at you without expression.

Apparently, Shadow has some sort of minor amnesia. He can't remember much immediately before…

Well.

But, still, he's alive.

And that sparks something deep in your chest.

You wouldn't dare to believe anything. You know he's… gone.

But a tiny, near molecular voice in the back of your head says what if?

And you can't give into it, but the voice, small as it is, nestles itself in between your cerebrum and cerebellum.

Back to reality, the alien children have decided that Shadow will stay with you.

Their home doesn't have the room for yet another anthropomorphic hedgehog in it, apparently.

You don't seem to have a say in the matter.

You can't say you mind too much.

September 12, 2024, 4:25 PM

You take him in and set up a futon in a clear area of your house.

You give him a tour, which really isn't much considering there are only two actual rooms.

He follows you around, nodding or shaking his head slightly whenever you ask him a question. He's quiet. Shy, even.

You make a simple dinner in silence, and he mumbles a thank you when you hand him his plate.

He falls asleep while you're working, and when you get a closer look at him…

…Did he always look that young?

Minus the 50 years he spent in stasis, he couldn't have been more than 15. Maybe 16, if you're being generous.

His brows furrow in his slumber, painfully familiar, and you're suddenly reminded of the fact that he is, in a way, a Robotnik.

You draw in a sharp breath and blink away the stinging in your eyes.

Maybe you'll sleep early.

September 23, 2024, 1:08 PM

Three months.

It's been three months since it happened, and the pain has only barely dulled.

You're starting to wonder if the coping mechanism of bottling everything up as much as you possibly can isn't working as well as you thought it would.

Shadow has opened up more, at least. He's still quiet and sometimes stares at you, wide-eyed and expressionless, but you've had a good few conversations with him.

You've shown him how to operate some of the coffee machines, even if he isn't quite tall enough to reach them very well on his own.

Every day you spend with him, the more it sets in just how young he is.

For the first week or two after… what happened, you resented him for being a part of it all. But now?

You just see a scared kid.

Team Sonic has been back to the Mean Bean a few times since Shadow arrived. He's incredibly socially awkward and is not one for idle chit-chat, but you've seen a hint of a smile on his face a couple times, and that's enough for you.

His memories have been returning slowly. Despite the voice screaming at you at every waking moment, you don't want to hold out hope. You don't want to be crushed again when the inevitable reality hits you that he is really gone.

You remember when it happened, when three months ago, you watched the Doctor dedicate his last words to you.

You remember going through every stage of grief and then some all at once.

You remember thinking you were done with that process, then, after it hit you like a freight train in all of 20 seconds.

You checked into a hotel, perfectly calm. You went up the elevator, fine. You unlocked the door to your room, ok.

Then you shut the door behind you and realized you'd accidentally gotten a room with two beds.

You remember the taste of bile at the back of your throat.

You blink and you're back where you were, alien children conversing at the counter in your coffee shop. You realize you've been holding the same empty mug and towel for a while.

When you set them down, your palm is indented from the fabric.

October 12, 2024, 2:00 PM

Shadow has warmed up to everything a lot more since he arrived last month.

You've seen him shoot back straight espresso like it was water, which drove Knuckles insane, and, for whatever reason, made you glow with pride.

He's slowly started asking for things directly: meals, things to do, what have you. You finally got to make that revenge guac for you both. It was great.

You had to try to not choke on it.

He's insanely excited for Halloween. It's refreshing to see him like this. He's usually a pretty doom-and-gloom type of guy, and there's a pain within him that you resonate with. But right now, he looks so happy, asking if you can decorate the cafe for the holiday. Of course, you do.

His memory is almost fully restored, too. You're happy about it, but it also instills an intense anxiety in you.

You aren't sure which situation it is that's making you feel like this.

Maybe both.

It'll be 4 months in a little under a week.

You don't think it's stopped hurting.

When you get a moment to be alone, it all comes rushing back at you, and suddenly you feel like you did when it first happened.

But the hurting isn't that bad all the time. Not anymore.

It settles in your chest when you're distracted by something, knocking on your ribs when you're reminded of it.

It's constant, like a bruise that just won't go away.

But it's manageable.

What is less manageable, however, is the voice.

Every day that passes, the voice gets louder, crawling further into your brain and making itself known.

Hell, it's even shown up in your dreams.

As annoying as it is, though, it makes you think about your grief beyond what you had been.

Whenever you have one of the dreams, you wake up and shower, and sit in the water and think.

Mostly, your brain has focused on his absence. The fact that he's… gone.

But, then you start to wonder.

Would this have happened if you'd told him? Would he be gone if he knew how you felt?

Would that have even changed anything?

You have to stop before you spiral too far. Asking questions is dangerous.

You convince yourself that it's just the shower water running down your cheeks, even if your eyes burn.

October 23, 2024, 1:02 AM

You wake up.

You don't immediately open your eyes, though, because if you stay in the darkness, you can pretend that everything is alright. You can pretend that nothing's changed.

You can pretend he's still here.

You open your eyes.

The room is not silent. Faraway thunder rumbles in the sky and Shadow lightly snores from where he sleeps.

It's four months now, and you've suddenly forgotten how to feel numb.

Your hypothesis about emotional suppression seems to be correct.

You sit up.

You stare at your hands.

You can't breathe.

At first, you think someone is trying to kill you. That's the obvious answer.

But then you feel the tear drop down to the tip of your nose.

And then you break.

You lose all sense of time as your vision is flooded. You hiccup between sobs and you know you've always been an ugly crier.

What makes it worse is when you feel a hesitant hand on your shoulder, and look over to see Shadow looking at you with so much concern and understanding.

You don't want to cry in front of him. You're meant to be strong for him, for this kid that you've grown closer to, for this kid that you want to take care of.

But when he reaches up to hug you, all you can do is fall apart on his shoulder. And you feel so bad, because no kid should ever have to be the one to comfort an adult, but the tears keep coming and you can't make them stop.

You don't know how long you sat there, weeping on him, when it seems the well has run dry.

You try to mutter an apology to him, but he gets up and walks away. You stare at nothing in front of you and curse yourself for making this child have to support you, but he comes back with a glass of water, averting his eyes nervously.

You think back to the first week he was here.

He'd had a nightmare and woke up screaming and crying. When you'd gone to comfort him, you brought him a glass of water.

You had awkwardly stuttered about how crying can be dehydrating in a sad attempt to make him feel better, social skills be damned, and it had worked.

That was the first time he'd really smiled at you.

And now he's doing the same for you.

He says something similar about water and dehydration and you can't entirely understand what he's saying, but you smile as best you can through the tears in your eyes and take the glass with a choked thank you.

He lights up at the affirmation, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest as you realize that you are to Shadow as Tom is to Sonic.

You gently ruffle the top of Shadow's head, the corner of your mouth quirking up. He flusters at the action and tilts his head, almost like a cat, you think, sporting a ghost of a smirk.

You tell him you're alright now and to go back to bed, and you yourself fall asleep with the knowledge that you are this weird alien hedgehog’s weird quasi-father, and you don't mind it one bit.

October 31, 2024, 5:30 PM

Turns out Tom and Maddie made a costume for Shadow. Sonic had apparently told them about something Shadow said about it after one of his trips to the Mean Bean, and they'd decided to surprise him. Needless to say, he was ecstatic. Others may not have registered the level of happiness he was at, but you know Shadow.

You know your boy.

Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails somehow convinced Shadow to go trick-or-treating with them. You encouraged him, too. He seemed a bit nervous, and even sort of embarrassed, but he ultimately agreed, smiling as he waved goodbye to you.

This was the first time in a while that you've been really alone. The pain starts to catch up to you and for a moment, you feel incredibly empty. Your throat begins to tighten.

You take a deep breath as the grief curls up once more, resting for the moment. It makes you cold.

You make yourself a simple latte and draw a little jack-o'-lantern on the top. Your hands still shake, but it's not too much to deal with.

You doubt anyone else will come into the shop. You already planned to close early for Halloween, and the sign at the front tells as much to any prospective customers.

You turn to begin dealing with the back counter, cleaning the machines and putting things back to where they belong. You've grown fond of the routine.

Then you hear the door open, and turn around to see Shadow running into the shop. His eyes are bright, brighter than you've ever seen them.

He tells you that he remembers everything now. He says, excited—God, it makes you happy to see him excited—that his memory is back and he can tell you what happened to–

The door opens again.

You look up.

He's there.

He's alive.

You stand there for a moment, completely still, completely silent.

You almost scream.

You leap over the counter, running and tackling him in the tightest hug you've ever given anyone.

He smells horrible. Like smoke and sulfur and dirt and grime and he's alive and he's holding onto you just as strong as you are and the voice is cheering and exploding into fireworks in your brain and the pain squeezes your heart in its hands and he's alive.

You don't even notice when the tears begin to fall. You only notice his pulse, alive, his breath, alive, his arms around you, alive, alive, alive.

When you finally pull back after what feels like both an eternity and a millisecond, you get a look at his face, and you put it in your hands and holy shit he is alive.

He looks absolutely disheveled and it's possibly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and then he smiles, wide, genuine, warm, so rare, so real, and then he leans forward and kisses you and you can't think anymore.

He tastes awful and you've never loved him more than you do now.

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Positively mind-blowing!! ❤️‍🔥🤯❤️‍🔥

[[💜❤️‍🔥Click for higher quality! Tag list as well as the initial sketch will be under the cut. All reblogs are seen and appreciated!! ❤️‍🔥💜]]

@absentmoon @ava-ships @bee-ships @beetleboyfriend @berryshipbasket @canongf @cloudyvoid @derelictdumbass @dissonantyote @edencantstopfallininlove @final-catboy @flabbergasting @gible-love-nibles @flowering-darkness @hirayarts @hoppinkiss @hotrodharts @hyperionshipping @iwishihadfangs @iyamifucker @judetama-moved @lex-n-weegie @lficanthaveloveiwantpower @little-miss-selfships @little-shiny-sharpies @loogi-selfships @mandrakebrew @mintpecks @mothfinite @mrs-kelly @nameless-self-ships @nerdstreak @orbitingaroundyourlove @paper-carnation @p-i-t-s @qilinkisser @reds-self-ships @rexscanonwife @rotten--cotton @spacestationstorybook @squips-ship @ship-trek @toogayforthistoday @winterworlds

[and-some-flowers]

This is Mr. Grizz. Can you PLEASE tell your friends to stop trying to Marry/Kiss/Do Other Things to the Grizzco Roller. I won't have any left at this rate.

Oh! I didn’t tell you about Hotaru’s ( @hotaruprism ) wedding with the Grizzco Roller, did I? Good thing I have a picture…

(absolutely HORRID doodle made by my friend ompl who I hope shall join tumblr soon HAH)

anyways my answer is no. I’m gonna find a way to spite you in any feasible way capitalist bear. But thank you for the gold trophy award for big run <3

[fluffairy]

.

[astrxealis]

good eve hope u all r well 😇😙💗✨

[sicklymuttz]

BROCK THROCKMORTON IN MINECRAFT REAL???? NOT CLICKBAIT ???

anyway ya LOL i made a brock minecraft skin for myself because there are none like ever, so!!! i'm proud of it, considering ive never even made a minecraft skin before...

if you guys, like... want it idk... you can dm me and i can send u the link to download it lol... or you can just go to my planet minecraft urself (sicklymutt) and download it,, teehee,,

[lovelynim]

TickleTober2024/Day 06 - Order

Grand Chase - Harpe x Ronan

Ronan crossed his arms in front of his chest, sitting back on top of Harpe’s lap while looking down at him like a predator does to its prey. “I’m waiting,” he added, tapping his arm with his finger.

Harpe  shuddered at that comment, pressing his eyes shut and scrunching up his shoulders as if he was getting scolded. “B-but… young master, I-”

“It’s an order, Harpe,” Ronan interrupted him, clearly feeling very proud of abusing his powers. This wasn’t the first time Ronan ‘ordered’ him to do… unusual things, but he could clearly see the intentions behind that order. Why else would he request such a thing?

Harpe sighed in defeat, laying back down. “F-fine, you don’t need to order me,” he muttered.

“It seems I, in fact, do,” Ronan added, leaning forward and resting his hands over Harpe’s stomach, feeling his body tremble with anticipation, “since you didn’t obey me yet.”

This wasn’t about authority or loyalty, Harpe thought, knowing he would only dig a deeper grave if he dared to say anything if not what his young master wished to hear. His body, however, wasn’t exactly convinced.

Harpe clenched his hands, but it was like his arms weighed a ton whenever he tried to lift them. He knew what was going to happen, he could see Ronan’s hands poised to strike - how was he supposed to ignore all the red flags and simply lift his arms like that?

“I-I can-”

“Of course you do,” Ronan said, stopping his servant from finishing that sentence as he reached out to one of his wrists, pulling it up and pinning it on the mattress, high above Harpe’s head. The latter’s cheeks burned in a bright shade of pink as Ronan towered over him. “You just need a little push.”

“W-wahAHAHAIT!” Harpe laughed, planting his heels on the mattress and arching his back, nearly losing himself to a single swipe from his lowest rib to the middle of his armpit. “Y-young mahahaster, plehehease!!”

“Don’t beg me, Harpe,” Ronan hummed passionately, loving watching that panicked expression unfold right before his eyes, “you disobeyed your master, we can’t have that, can we?”

“I- ahAHAha, I dihihidn’t!” Harpe whined, gripping at Ronan’s wrist with his free hand.

As Ronan continued to slowly wiggle his fingers over the unprotected spot, Harpe thrashed his head and pressed his eyes shut, holding onto the faint faith that any of that would make the tickling more bearable, would make him less sensitive. Oh, what a sweet lie.

“Don’t worry,” Ronan mused lovingly, shooting his hand down to poke at his servant’s ribs before moving it up again, tickling his underarm some more, “I know how well you do your role… that’s why I’m going to let you off with a lighter sentence ~”

“T-Thihihis is the wohohorst!” Harpe giggled, that embarrassed smile seemingly glued to his face at that point - just like Ronan’s hand to his body. 

The young master shook his head, leaning even closer to his servant as he grinned down at him. “Now, since you couldn’t follow my last order, I’ll give you a new one to make up for your mistake: laugh for me, Harpe ~”

A/N: I made this one for all the gc players in our community - which is me, myself and I. Yes, very self indulgent, but I don't care. Lol

Anyway, thanks for sticking by for another day, teehee, hope to see you tomorrow as well!

[hellsuwus]

I did this at 3 am, threw it in my drafts, and it’s just been sitting there so here we go lmao. Inspired by @ceo-of-sloppy-men tiefling tail headcanons

Exposing myself as that insane anon who said they were drawing zevlor tail charms and also omega fic fanart teehee. Now! Hcs under the cut

Okay so anyway I know nothing about biology BUT I love worldbuilding

I imagine that when tieflings weigh their tails down there's two different types of weights.

The first ones are practical ones. Not every tiefling can just give into their heat. They got jobs to do! Bills to pay! So these ones are more simple and are purely for purpose of weighing down tails. Most of the time it's like, a heavy sleeve and the inside is often filled with heavy beads or rice or pebbles or something ((kind of like a weighted blanket where its inside)) and in the case of stronger tiefs ((like zev 🤭)) they often have heavy metal bracers or cuffs around them as well just to weigh em down a bit more. Some wear em only at the ends of their tails, and some wear em up all the way.

The second one are the decorative ones. Sometimes they start off with the weighted sleeve, like stated above, as a base and then they'll wrap decorations around it. Or sometimes, the decorations are heavy enough that they'll just use those. (( In my brain zev always wears that little sleeve tho, he’s an old man who values comfort over style lol))

And if course the decorations and any meanings vary from tief to tief. Some tiefs wear basic metal charms with some chains and stuff to look cute, others are dramatic as hell and will wrap gold and jewels over their tail.

I dont think there'd really be any specific way to signify being in a relationship or not. A color system wouldn't work since tieflings come in so many colors that they could just be matching their partner. And I love the chains idea but chains are so hot i think everyone deserves them. Maybe they wear a padlock on their tail to symbolize they're taken??

I LOVE the thought of there being a symbol for free use tieflings in heat though. In my mind it would be any sort of bells. Some are more subtle and wear smaller ones on the ends of their tails, others are loud and proud and desperate and will wear large ones and it's a symbol for any other tiefling around to come use em.

I also think it would be really funny if the other races aren't aware that the bells mean free to use and they just think that tieflings are attention seekers lol

[cerealmonster15]

WIP word train game

Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share a sentence/excerpt from your wips that start with that letter.

Tagged by @unpredictable-probabilities ! thank u!

the word is SMILE :)

S

Soon, however, they made it to the meeting spot that Jade described… But with no Jade to be seen. 

“Um… Let’s stop here for a minute!” Kalim said, abruptly taking a seat on a nearby log. 

“...Are you tired?” Jamil asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “You never run out of energy after just a simple walk.”

M

“My unique magic!” Cater finishes, unable to hide his excitement - as if he’d even been trying to in the first place. “Isn’t it so cool!? I mean, it’s a little tiring,” he says as he flops back down onto his bed, “But I just couldn’t help myself. Your confused face was so cute!” Cater giggles, and then gasps. “Oh- I forgot to take a picture! Bummer,” he pouts, “guess I'll have to come up with something even BETTER to surprise you with next time. But what’s better than a sneaky signature spell reveal?”

I

“…I wouldn’t mind having you as my divorce lawyer, one day.”

There was a beat of silence, and Riddle’s face contorted into what could only be described as a blend of emotion from someone who felt like they should be offended, but was too confused by the statement to even understand how to process it.

L

Leona narrowed his eyes at all the Cater clones around them, then focused on the original Cater with a smirk. “Oh? Right, of course… You’re just such a diligent student that you’re taking this extra time and effort to practice your magic. I bet your housewarden would be so proud to hear all about it, don’t you think?”

Cater’s grin quickly morphed into a pout. “Don’t you dare!” he pleaded, one of his clones disappearing as he spoke. “You know Riddle will totally have my head if he finds out!

E

“Erm…” Azul looked as though he was considering lying, but one stern glance from Jamil had him folding in an instant. “...Perhaps. Yes.”

“You’re utterly hopeless, Azul.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

teehee. this was from my 4 wips i have floating around right now. I almost couldnt find one for E lol 😭

i'm too shy to tag people directly but if anyone sees this and wants to play i will give a word anyway: BEANS

[vertigo-tango]

hey heyyyyyyyy before i ask anything i just wanna say thank you for posting your sketches and paintings, especially all the tam ones and the latest igor and karter sketch, the one with a tag that says "art is less of a skill and more about coming to terms with yourself" (paraphrased i think), that helped me wrangle the root cause of my invisible mental breakdown at a party yesterday. i realised my art style/drawing process wasnt what i wanted but not just because its not time flexible and oddly stiff, but because it isnt what i was feeling, what i was thinking, it was ideas in my brain thinned and skinned into a pleasure for others to look at rather than for myself to draw (plus it took me 20 minutes to draw a pose and the back before i restarted for the 4th time)

taking it slow was the fisher having food on a hook that me, starving, was swimming towards. sure, im proud of my end results, but what does that mean about me, did the time i put in encapsulate what i had in my mind, and most often its a yes, but it feels like it was someone elses version of the same idea.

to be childishly honest, your artstyle is the one i exactly wanted and expected when i was younger so seeing you here was kind of a wake up call as well as what the fuck am i doing in a weird sense. ill be honest idk what my new artstyle will be directed to, experimenting leads to it having lots of dna of the previous one but that is to be expected, so thank you again man(gn), keep up what youre doing.

anyways massive apologies for the weirdly sentimental rant from a guy youve probably never interacted with, i wanna hear more about both tamalex (more specifically tam but we can push aside my bias for a second) and the riot brothers, i love reading your headcanons teehee:)))))

hi hi, I'm going to be honest, seeing this ask made my day astronomically better

I'm glad I'm not alone in this cause man does it suck. but I'm happy that you found the direction you want to go. keep to it, and best of luck

[also don't apologise for reaching out. being able to talk to people with the same interest is genuinely the only reason I post on here, so never hesitate to reach out to me, I would love to talk]

[crowtrobotx]

Today is Chrysalis's one year anniversary. It's also Lottie's canon birthday! (Yes, I did this on purpose - her birthday was chosen long before I got the balls to post the fic lol.) I am feeling some type of way about it. On the one hand I was hoping I'd be further along, and lately I've been honestly feeling a bit saddened watching commenters/readers drop off bit by bit. I am trying to remind myself it's more than likely just people losing interest in RE8 itself and not a reflection on me or my writing quality, but man it's weird sometimes. Especially given how popular Check Engine was, it's hard not to take it personally! I know it's got the double whammy of OC fic and child fic and for some people that's just intolerable but I don't think I'm wrong for feeling that way and I won't apologize for it! On the other, and more overwhelmingly, I am so proud of myself. I work full time. I volunteer. I am going to school. I have many non-fandom related hobbies I keep up with. Friends. Family. An insane dog. To have written as much as I have is really cool! And crazy! And something I was terrified to do for YEARS, well before the game gave me the inspiration to actually go through with it! I spent the first part of my life unapologetically being a weird little girl, and then when I grew up and went to college and got a big people job I tried to play a part, an acceptable "role" that I thought I had to fulfill in order to meet some nebulous definition of success. Slowly but surely over the last four years I've been reconnecting with the person I tried to smother, and it's been amazing, incredible and just.... I dunno. It's weird when things go so right for me.

Anyway. This story represents a whole lot more to me than just "teehee put the blorbo in situations." I mean, it's partly that lbr, but it's also a gift to myself. It's a way to soothe a lot of agonies I've carried, a way to laugh. I'm going to keep gifting it to myself until it's done, whether I'm the only one around still reading it or not.

[speevtheteev]

Do you guys ever just forget the lore of ur own ocs and accidentally draw something impossible for them. CUS I AM SO MAD AT MYSELF RN.

My ocs are a fictional cyborg species called "speevs" or something like that (i havent fully decided on the exact name since its not like an open/closed species or anything. Its just how I categorize my own tv head ocs in my story.)

I had this cool art piece in mind of like a city building with a character on a balcony. Anyway halfway through making it I was like: I think rain would look so cool. And yknow what? I think it DID look cool. The issue is SPEEVS MAIN WEAKNESS IS WATER. RAIN CAN KILL THEM IM CRYINGGGGG

I WAS SO PROUD OF MYSELF WAAAAHHHH i thought it looked so cool...

But yeah since it doesnt rlly match up with their species lore im gonna have to adjust it :/ or I could give them umbrellas!!! Jk teehee!! Might post the final image tomorrow.. Unfortunately no cool rain will be on it ;(

Ngl since Im not posting much art rn maybe I should do some text posts on my ocs? Tbh I doubt anyone follows me for that, but maybe it could be fun :P

[veryberrysproutling]

《 Pinned Post 》

Well, hello there all! I've noticed as time passes, more and more Gardenview folk have been popping up here. So, I figured I should engage with everyone!

Let me introduce myself! My name is Sprout, and I use He/They pronouns! As you can see, I'm a strawberry with a scarf, and a proud Toon apart of Gardenview Education Center! I hope to make some new friends or even talk with some of my current friends!

I also cook, and bake! If you haven't, you should try it sometimes. Really helps with making memories, reducing stress and...other stuff!

You're allowed to send any asks my way! Just, please keep it family friendly... there are kids here, you know!

Goodbye for now!! ^^

《 Mod Notes Down Below 》

🍬 - WAHAHAHAHAHAH. BETCHA NEVER EXPECTED SPROUT HUH

🍬 - "he's unrelated!!!! he's unreleased!!!!!!!!! we don't know anything about him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" does it look like i care. (<- autistic abt strawberry characters)

🍬 - anyways. hi, im the mod! i use she/they and i've been playing dandy's world for quite some time.

🍬 - please know that, as stated above, BECAUSE he is unreleased, the way i play sprout is my own interpretation. there is no dialogue or interactions to build off from yet. it is not canon in any way, shape, or form.

🍬 - if there is like. any fun facts abt him confirmed though lemme know plspls ^w^

🍬 - also, listen to sprout. no nsfw or inappropriate asks/reblogs. he may be reminiscent of an adult, but i am a MINOR and you Will be blocked/your ask will be deleted.

🍬 - i get lots of hyperfixations, so there is a major possibility this blog will just stop posting. please don't be worried if this happens, i probably fell out of fixation

🍬 - by making this blog, i do NOT condone the actions of rox/the co-creator of blushcrunch studios, nor do i support them in any matter. i am also, in no way, affiliated or associated with blushcrunch studios.

🍬 - mod sign off/OOC will always have the candy emoji, and you can call me pastel :)

🍬 - mod's main is (a secret...teehee)!

((Posted: July 6th, 2024))

((Most recent edit: August 11th, 2024))

[cascaria]

Blog Post 5/29/2023

Music is an artistic venture that's been on my mind a lot as of late. Rather, lyrics are specifically. I've been taking a different approach with lyrics than previous efforts (different from what I've put out publicly anyway), trying to get more personal. A lot has changed in my sense of self recently (trans moment teehee) and its made attempts to write more personal stuff feel,,, strange. Songs I wrote mere months ago feel like they were written by a different person, ideas expressed in earnest feel fake somehow.

I tried to make a clumsy snapshot of myself at this point in time, a lyrical self portrait of sorts, but the subject changed always through the painting. All it really needs is a little course correction; tweak some lyrics, scrap a few songs, write a few new ones, typical creative process. But even so its got me thinking in pretentious philosophical ways I hadn't considered before.

Can a person really be captured in the art they make? The answer is no, of course, the most realistic paintings, the most high quality photos, no matter the medium there will always be something missing. Someone could write an autobiography the length of all the Wheel of Times books put together and details would still be missing. You could film every second of a person's life and still never capture the whole picture. Of course what I'm attempting is nowhere near as ambitious, but even capturing one moment in time in total is impossible. Even in the attempt, the moment passes and a new moment is born. Sometimes the changes aren't drastic so its negligible, but of course realizing you're trans is anything but a minor shift.

Words are a weird thing for me. When I'm speaking in the moment I never feel like I can muster the right words to truly express what I'm trying to say. Given time and a big word count I can get closer, but even when I'm satisfied I'll come back to it a day later and realize ten billion things I forgot to say or wish I worded better. This includes stuff like this very blog post this sentence was added last minute.

Lyricism and poetry is a whole other beast, though. So much more has to be taken into account when crafting every line, and some ideas are really fucking hard to compress down into a rhyme scheme and melody. Ideas of the self are especially difficult. How can I make a song to express an image of myself when I barely know who I am? How can I create a snapshot of myself as a person when I barely feel like I'm real? If I don't even feel like me, how can I know what that "me" even is and express it in any way, let alone lyrically?

I've tried expressing that very experience via song and while I've written some lines I'm proud of I still feel like I'm barely scratching the surface of what I want, what I need, to convey. Part of the whole point of this project is to take the ideas and feelings out of my shitty brain and express them outwardly. Even though only like 5 people will listen or care (hi friends :3) the fact that it was heard is what matters. The fact it could be heard. But I can't make something heard if I don't know how to say it. No matter what I do, anything I write anything I sing anything I create will just be a faint silhouette of the picture.

I guess all art is like that, though. A drawing or painting can never measure up to the image formed in the artist's mind. A novel can never contain every detail of the vast world an author imagines. A song can never fully convey the emotion of the songwriter/performer. But, these things still resonate. A novel can't contain the whole of fantastical world in the author's mind, but it can create a whole new one in the mind of the reader. Art doesn't end with the artist. Once its made, once its out there, while the version in the artist's head will die with them, a new version will be made in the mind of everyone that chose to engage with it.

I can never fully express myself in the way I want to, but I can express enough that whoever engages with my art can form an image in their own head. Maybe it differs from mine, but the details that matter will be there. I can never fully put myself in a song, but I can try. I can put fragments together that a listener can pick up and graft to their own experience. Maybe it isn't about making an image of myself. That's certainly part of it on my end, but it doesn't end with me. Maybe its about making a mirror. A mirror containing fragments of myself that can also reflect fragments of whoever chooses to pick it up. Even if I am the subject, my art will never ultimately be about me.

I feel like a pretentious ass even insinuating anything I make could ever have a serious impact on someone, but I hope it does. If I could impact even one person with my art the way other people's art has impacted me, that's more than I could ever ask for. Even if I don't though, even if everything I make is doomed to obscurity for the rest of time and even all my friends fucking hate it, maybe it was enough that I tried. Maybe that's all that really matters in the end. Maybe that fruitless yet meaningful effort is what art truly is. I don't know.

[studioeisa]

hiii kae it’s me 🩵!! anyway i’m over here to say i adore u (as always) but i am here to say i physically cannot let myself read DK’s f1 fic because i know when i do i will be a whole different beast i am not over the move and a whole lot more i could probably talk about for days but let’s settle with i will likely not survive :)) the reverse tropes has me in a choke hold though! keep up the phenomenal work and thank you!!! i will adore you until all of my carbon is gone (i think this is my best yet teehee!!)

xo,

🩵 (i kiss ur forehead bc i cannot reach your brain 😔 MWAH!)

my 🩵, i squealed out loud when i saw you in my main inbox!!! like ARIANAA what are you doing here (but /pos) ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- i am equal parts proud and terrified of smooth operator, because there's only so much f1 know-how that i can fake it 'till i make it 🤗 carlos is however dear as hell to me, and i will be thinking of him forever n ever. i adore u, no stop + full throttle! <3 p.s. i got your uji ask on xinganhao, but i will be holding it hostage for the foreseeable future 🐈