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bumbleby au that the gay rwby server helped me come up with <3
i was going 2 render/paint it but i lost steam but i'm gonna post the flat colors anyways :]
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Hear me out. Ratiorine AU where Aventurine is a mer captured by a group of researchers and Ratio is the scientist brought on board to teach him how to speak and access his intelligence levels.
#aventurine#hsr aventurine#dr ratio#hsr dr ratio#hsr#honkai star rail#star rail#ratiorine#raturine#aventio#mermaid au#mer!aventurine#see ok listen#aventurine is a very smart fish and while he cant speak Human#he can communicate by impressing the idea of something on someone#which is why his speech bubbles are all abstract things bc he communicates by sending the idea of what he wants to say to ppls brains#and hes clever hes our cunning merchant gambler#so while he was initially captured by some researchers to be studied#hes able to charm them up and get them on his side... thus allowing him to have more luxury than the average experiemental subject#ofc none of this reallt matters when the researchers wont let him go free but its the smalle victories...#eventually hell work his way up to freedom#ratio is the poor sap who was dragged into the study half way to teach aventuring how to Be Human basically#he accepts the proposition bc everyone deserves to have knowledge! even fish!#my art#comics#scribbles
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lullaby for another
#duck scribbles#minicomic tag#midoyuzu#ittle scenario i made up in my head post-home party when all of them stay the night over at tori's#midori who couldnt sleep wanders around for a bit and runs into yuzuru and they chat a bit!!! to help her fall asleep#yuzurus mostly humming to himself and yeah. aha#enstars#midori takamine#yuzuru fushimi#yuzumido#ensemble stars#need to balance out the sap from recent one way or another my last one was. wow what were you on#hey fun fact ive never listened to yuzurus solo (that i dont even dare name lest this guy festers into my brain even more)#any more than three whole times during the approaching 2 years ive been into this series. its awful the things it makes me feel#i love drawing them together but like.... im sure hed be somewhat aware of his own standing in regards to yuzurus attentions and affections
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Random clown doodles + some character design concepts that are also clowns
Oops! All clowns 🤡
#art#drawing#traditional art#clowns#bugs#cw bugs#scarlet’s scribbles#scarlet’s sad saps#oc: jesteria#oc: mickey#her design is still not done but#oc: possumimé#bizarrus
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Hope all is well and happy pride month!
Thank you !!!
And like I said in my last post, all is very well hehehe, i hope to come back with arts slowly but surely <33
ANNNNDDD to anyone who wants to know, ill prolly going posting more tmnt:sn sketches here and there (i love those lil boys) as i got smth special for it comin up pretty soon 👁👁 Other than that, I definitely have more Night Time (rottmnt sona) doodles to share sometime, and then other misc. drawings here and there, random doodles and digital paintings aha
OVERALL EVERYTHING IS ALL WELL AND I HOPE TO GET BACK TO ONLINE (at least tumbr anyway) SOON ENOUGH >:DD
#ive been like#only drawing my stupid sona znsmskakqakkaa i love him#i haven't rlly been painting or making anything substantial tho — just dumb scribbles here and there#i just think hes so neat. hes such an asshole. and rude. and a loving dad and a sap.#iykyk#n e way#ashask#ash rambles
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44. “I’m going to need you to put on some clothes before you say anything else.”
This is going to feature a lot of Donnie staring wistfully but it's sfw, even if its a bit intimate asldjfk Also a shorter one because how long can I make this really.
Donatello lay on his stomach, waiting on the bed as Jase took the first shower. He personally didn't think he even needed one, but Jase insisted he did, and they both had a long day in the office so he might as well.
But after a few good morning kisses, his fiancé slipped to the bathroom before Donatello could manage to get up.
He tried not to doze as he waited, arms tucked under his head, but the mattress was so comfy. After months of Donatello refurbishing the building into the mutant apartment complex, and custom building a bed that his tall frame could comfortably lay on, it felt good to lounge around.
Despite the distance from his brothers, it started to feel like home.
It felt... strange. That he would often return to the lair to just spend time with his brothers or his dad, or to plan for missions, but these days coming back here and seeing Jase is what made his mind say, "I'm home." He couldn't place when his brain made the switch. It certainly wasn't when he first moved in.
But Jason being here helped.
The bathroom door connected to the master bedroom opened. Jase stepped out, towel around his waist while he used another to keep drying his hair. He didn't have his glasses on, making his eyes that much easier to see.
"Don't take too long." Jase took the towel off his head and hung it on the edge of the bed as he began to open drawers. "We have that big meeting at ten, and we need to..."
The words faded out fast as Donnie just continued to stare. At first he glanced over all the pale scars that dotted Jase's shoulders, a few trailing down his spine. One area in particular on his lower back had a much denser patch of freckles. He didn't have a lot of those, a few on his arms, one on his neck.
His gaze moved up to Jase's jaw, once again following the dots up to his ears. Then over to his eyes. They squinted as he filed through his ties, obviously struggling to see without his glasses. The skin between his eyebrows, at the top of his nose, held so many creases as he did. The eyebrows in question were thick, always messy after a shower, but they tended to straighten out throughout the day.
His hair was such a mess when wet, sometimes when it was dry as well, but the comb usually fixed that. And then Donnie would destroy all of the progress by nuzzling the top of his head.
He was struck with the temptation to do it now, but no doubt it wouldn't smell like Jase. Just that coconut shampoo.
Donatello stopped studying his fiancé's face, his gaze trailing down.
"Donnie."
The sharp sound of his name snapped him back to attention.
Jason turned around, arms crossed. "Are you listening to me?"
Yeah, no, Donatello's gaze got fixed on the small amount of dark hair on Jase's chest. "Um..."
Jason scoffed and stepped over, tapping him on the forehead. "Wake up."
"Sorry." Donatello blinked, considering the fact his fiancé looked good at this angle. "But I'm going to need you to put on some clothes before you say anything else."
Jason kept his glare. "Donnie you see me like this on a regular basis these days."
"Yeah." He smirked and finally pushed himself up. "And every time I'm reminded of just how beautiful you are."
Ah, there was the blush, running all the way from his nose to the tips of his ears. "Ugh, whatever. Go get in the shower. You still have to get clean before we leave and you're wasting time."
"Well, next time we should just share the shower." Donatello stuck out his tongue.
"Hilarious." Jase tried to shove him out of the bed. "I know you. That would make us even later."
Donatello wouldn't admit that Jase, as usual, was right. Instead he just stuck out his tongue again and shuffled into the bathroom.
At least he had a hot shower to look forward to.
"Don't you dare take too long." Jase said from beyond the door. "I know how to cut the hot water off."
Donatello sighed. "Are you my business partner or my secretary."
"This meeting is important, Donnie."
"Okay, okay, but you're making it up to me later."
"It's your business!"
"Yours too now." Donatello smirked and turned the water on. "Especially since you agreed to marry me."
"That's not how that works, Donnie."
"Huh? What?" He pretended to shout. "Sorry, can't hear you over the water."
"Donnie!"
Donatello snickered and grabbed his brush before stepping into the shower.
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*plops my brain down on the counter*
can y’all watch her while i go smoke
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bro reblogged this 30 times??
just so you all know, i do in fact look at my twt indirects and my tumblr indirects /lh
mostly because i think it’s funny
#sap’s rambles#scribbled out the urls for their privacy#i am however looking at what you say abt me#you’re all very silly
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remus lupin x reader where the boys mess with the letter he wrote for you
The Marauders’ dormitory was unusually quiet. Remus Lupin had taken advantage of the rare moment of solitude to scribble down his thoughts. With a slightly trembling hand, he folded the letter, sealed it with his initials, and placed it on his desk.
A soft smile played on his lips as he glanced at it before heading down to the common room to check where you were.
Enter James, Sirius, and Peter.
James pushed the door open with a flourish, Sirius following close behind with a yawn with Peter hanging on his arm.
“Ah, our humble abode,” Sirius declared. “The sanctuary of secrets and—wait, what’s this?” His sharp eyes caught sight of the neatly folded parchment sitting suspiciously on Remus’s desk.
Peter padded over to it. “Looks important…” He picked it up, squinting at the handwriting. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “It’s a love letter!”
“A love letter?” James perked up, lunging to snatch the parchment from Peter’s hands. He scanned the opening lines, his grin spreading wider with each word. “‘Dear Y/N…’ Oh, this is good.”
“Is it sappy?” Sirius asked, already leaning over James’s shoulder.
“Beyond sappy,” James said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “But.... not sappy enough.”
Peter gasped. “We should… enhance it.”
Sirius clapped his hands together. “Boys, fetch a quill. It’s time for Operation Padfoot-Potter-Pettigrew Poetics.”
James grinned and whipped out his wand, charming the nearest quill to mimic Remus’s handwriting. “Let’s see… what would Moony say if he were a complete sap?”
Sirius smirked. “How about, ‘Your smile could melt a dementor’s heart’?”
“Oh, good one!” James added it in, snickering. “And, ‘I dream of your hair—it’s like silk spun by angels.’”
Peter pitched in, “Don’t forget, ‘Your laugh is the melody of my soul.’”
“Wait, wait!” Sirius cut in. “‘If I were a werewolf’—ha!—‘I’d howl at the moon just to get a glimpse of you.’”
They erupted into laughter, their sides practically splitting and when they were halfway through adding “Your eyes rival the stars” the sound of footsteps on the stairs froze them all in place.
“Moony’s coming!” Sirius hissed.
The three Marauders scrambled. James slammed the letter shut and shoved it back on the desk. Sirius collapsed onto Remus’s bed, holding a book upside down. Peter, in a panic, began juggling socks.
The door creaked open, and Remus stepped in, his eyes narrowing immediately at the sight of his three best friends.
“…What are you all doing?” he asked suspiciously.
“Reading,” Sirius said, holding the upside-down book closer to his face. "Very interesting book in fact. You should try it, Moony."
"Sure, Sirius." Remus nodded as he gave him a smirk, "Hey, do tell me later if the book was more interesting upside down?"
Sirius's face turned red as he gave a thumbs up, "You got it, mate."
Remus chuckled as he his attention was diverted by a sock falling on his foot. He turned to look at Peter confusingly who gave him a sheepish smile.
“Practicing my dexterity,” He said, dropping a sock on his head.
“Just existing,” James added with a bright smile. “Why? What are you doing?”
Remus’s eyes darted to his desk, where the letter sat innocently. He picked it up, his brows furrowing slightly. “Were you—?”
“Us? Never!” James said, his tone as exaggerated as his grin. “Anyway, we’ve got Quidditch practice. See you later!” He grabbed Sirius and Peter, dragging them out as quickly as possible.
With the letter tucked in his pocket, Remus found you in your favorite corner of the common room, nose buried in a book. His nerves kicked into high gear as he handed you the letter.
“I, uh… wrote this for you,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
You smiled, taking the parchment. “Thanks, Remus.” You unfolded it, your eyes scanning the words.
The initial sweetness made your heart flutter: “Dear Y/N, I’ve wanted to tell you for ages how much you mean to me…”
But then…
“Your beauty is so radiant it could blind a Basilisk.” “If I were stranded on a deserted island, I’d only need your smile to survive.” “I’d duel a hundred Dementors just to hear you say my name.”
Your shoulders shook. A laugh bubbled out, then another, until you were laughing so hard tears prickled your eyes.
Remus’s face paled. “W-What? What’s wrong? Is it bad? Too much? Not enough?”
You could barely catch your breath as you held the letter out to him, pointing at the overly saccharine additions. “Did… did you actually write this?”
His eyes widened in horror. “No! I—I mean, not that! They must’ve—Sirius! James! Peter!” He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “They got to it.”
You couldn’t stop laughing, your cheeks aching. “I think it’s adorable.”
“You’re laughing at me,” he said, his tone half-whiny, half-embarrassed.
“I’m not laughing at you,” you said between giggles. “I’m laughing because it’s sweet. And because I know how much you actually care.”
His hands slowly dropped, his cheeks still red. “You… do?”
“Of course I do.” You stepped closer, your smile softening. “And for the record, I think you’re pretty incredible too.”
His breath hitched. “You do?”
Before his nerves could ruin the moment, you closed the gap, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was sweet, warm, and perfect, and when you pulled back, his dazed expression made you giggle again.
“Best letter I’ve ever received,” you teased, and he couldn’t help but laugh too.
#dividers by enchanthings#dividers by juliamaximoff#pictures from pinterest#ivy's soft scribbles ೀ#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#marauders era#the marauders#marauders
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Surprises for Father's Day
You and your son surprise Daichi for Father's Day, for my Parenting event<3
requested by @act-nat-ural. word count; 553– f!reader
To say your husband deserved to be spoiled for a day was the understatement of the year. You knew Father’s Day was coming up, and your young son heard about it in school, so there was no lack of preparations this year from either of you.
In previous years, it had either been spoiled by little mister Blabbermouth, or something had gone wrong in your planning. Not this year!
While you prepared dinner and retrieved an exclusive set of fancy beers wrapped up in paw patrol wrapping, your son lay forth a homemade card with a drawing of his cool dad in uniform on the front. Inside it, he had written a short scribbly greeting from the two of you on one side. On the other side, you had glued a ‘poem’ your son brought home from school where they were instructed to write about their dad.
Sure, he wrote “poloicemen” instead of policeman, but he also detailed his admiration for his dad who keeps him and his mom safe, as well as all his friends (and their pets, he put emphasis on that).
You were hoping for at least one tear from Daichi.
His keys jingled in the door and you signalled for your son to hush and come over to stand beside you.
“Happy Father’s Day!” you yelled when he stepped inside, your son following on about half the words (he said day).
He looked up in shock, not expecting you to be waiting for him like that. “My babies.”
You high-fived your son before letting him run over to pull his dad into the house. He could only keep a surprise for so long, and Daichi had to get his shoes off in a stumble as he was pulled along. He barely managed to peck your lips while passing by before he gasped at the setup.
“You got me presents?”
“Of course, Dad!”
“Thank you. So much.” The soft look lay heavy on his face as you came over to join them, letting your husband pull you closer by the waist while he ruffled your son’s hair. “I’m so lucky.”
He loved the present, obviously, no one knew your husband as you did, but the card was still the best part.
Daichi pretended to naturally lean his chin on his hand so he could try to control his facial expression, but the gloss on his eyes gave it away. You got a tear.
“This is the second best thing I ever got,” he said, the waver in his voice leaving the room in a tender aura.
“Second best?” your son complained with a scowl.
“After you two.”
You cooed, squeezing his cheek like you so often did to your son before walking off to the kitchen. “You sap, change and come back for dinner.”
“Will do, boss.”
And you smiled as you stirred the food, hearing your child laugh as Daichi probably picked him up and squeezed him in a hug like he did when he got overwhelmed with emotions.
The father of your child, so deserving of this love. There was one more present, and you hoped he would be just as happy for it, resting a hand on your stomach and whispering a little encouragement.
Both your babies managed to keep the presents a secret until today.
masterlist
for the requester: thank you for requesting again sweets<3
#parenting event#haikyuu#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyu#haikyu fluff#dad!daichi#dadchi#daichi x reader#sawamura daichi#haikyuu daichi#daichi sawamura#karasuno
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yang from @kaelidascope 's bumbleby au, midnight menagerie!!!
read it here :] now 🔫
#bumbleby#rwby#yang xiao long#rwby v9#rwby art#sap scribbles#hiii teehee i'm alive sorry i was like moving and transferring work locations and shit
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Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)
This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)
I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)
Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!
Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!
He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!
Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.
Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:
I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao
Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)
Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:
He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.
To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.
Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)
A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~
The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D
No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.
I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:
He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)
And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:
Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:
Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)
whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now
I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE
#fanart#gravity falls#billford#bill cipher#stanford pines#stanley pines#the love god#human bill cipher#human bill design#fashion design#comics#poor stan gets to find out his twin boinked a triangle when the love god shows up at the mystery shack demanding payment LMAO#cue internal panic for stan as dipper and mabel lose their collective shit over the fact that they now have a surprise new grunkle bill#the love god helps himself get paid by teaching the kids how to trap bill in his human vessel for the foreseeable future#bill is bewildered and pissed but also very much 'holy shit i have a FAMILY again??? neat but terrifying??????? what the F*CK do i do now'#he then proceeds to attempt to lovebomb his new family into being okay with the impending apocalypse#all while the three of them attempt to lovebomb HIM into giving up his plans for said impending apocalypse#then two days later ford shows up and is just like. what the ACTUAL F*CK IS HAPPENING???#cue stan immediately screaming 'I HAD TO PRETEND TO BE THAT THING'S HUSBAND FOR TWO DAYS STRAIGHT SO F*CK YOU AND YOUR BAD TASTE FOR THAT!'#stan spends those two days straight dropping very sour hints that he's being punished for someone else's terrible mistakes#bill finds this absolutely hilarious and thus plays along - but not without dropping his own hints that ford is the FAR superior twin#dipper and mabel have ZERO idea of what is actually going on because the love god did NOTHING to clarify the situation#dipper is convinced that stan and bill are speaking in some kind of bizarre code that only adults can understand#mabel is convinced that the code is flirting - which means stan and bill are going to live happily ever after and have tons of kids + pets#NEITHER of them are prepared for ford showing up. not that they were in canon. but still. now it's even MORE crazy#'what do you mean we get TWO NEW GRUNKLES???' 'two grunkles in two days - gotta be some kinda record'#ford then has to decide if he wants to remain justifiably furious at bill or join the other pines in lovebombing him into submission#he then gets to learn that lovebombing bill works surprisingly well because that triangle is just The Biggest Attention Wh*re#the entire AU would just be ridiculous antics with a splash of billford#these tags are an abomination lmao
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Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader
Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3
---
It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning.
Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night.
You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference).
“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively.
For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table.
His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars.
One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain.
“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page.
The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book.
“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.”
As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters.
It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.
Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him.
“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility.
When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall.
“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him.
Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly.
“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each.
“All gone.”
Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.
“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”
At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark.
“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.”
P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain.
“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really.
By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer.
#originally this fic was called sing me to sleep bc I was listening to the suckerpunch soundtrack version of Asleep on loop#so if you want the full experience queue that song up while you read#lydia dropping art history refs like a fucking nerd#extremely soft pino#lies of p#lies of p fanfic#lop#lies of p x reader#pinocchio x reader#lies of p fanart#fluff#my writing
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🧸Teddybear Princess👑
#art#drawing#oc#original character#teddy bear#toy oc#princess#princess oc#plush oc#plushie oc#bear oc#traditional art#scarlet’s scribbles#scarlet’s sad saps#unnamed oc#bizarrus
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Random ass headcanons, Gehenna version:
Satan: Just really vibes with sheep. Occasionally just fucks off into a field in Gehenna and crouches down amongst the demon sheep. Onlookers are confused why there's one extremely beautiful ewe out amongst the fluff until he stands up. He has given 9 shepherds heart attacks.
Leraye: Ideal partner snores like a chainsaw in a hurricane. If he's sleeping next to them, no he's not, he's either trying to jerk off quietly or pointing straight at the ceiling with a smile on his face. If they're into somnophilia, there are going to be some very interesting attempts (he really can't hold back, you're going to wake up, he's going to pout a little because he's not going to finish during the "thunder," but then he's right back to the task at hand).
Paimon: Loves kids! They're cute and fun to play with aaaand that one's sticky and he's done actually. But they're so cute! And yes of course he'll hold a baby—what is that smell. You can have this back, actually. If it's his own kid, he'll do the messy work but he will make disgusted faces and possibly gag. Otherwise, fucking amazing parent.
Paimon 2: Monster truck enthusiast. Had a bright pink one covered in stickers and skull decals named Bye Bye Kitty until the angels nuked it. The ensuing slaughter made it on the list of Paimon's Top 3 Crashouts.
Astaroth: Frequently gets invited to podcasts because his voice is so pleasant, but if he accepts (rare), every listener ends up having their energy sapped out of them. Also if he decides he's over it, he'll put Apophis on the mic and sit in silence. If the hosts try to speak, he'll shush them and tell them Apophis isn't done speaking. He is too intimidating to argue with.
Sitri: Doodles on the phone and during meetings, lots of scribbles and little pentagrams, sometimes chibi Satans, Solomons, or "Solomons (you)." If he's talking to another demon and seemingly taking notes, no tf he's not, he's doodling a picture of the two of you holding hands.
Amy: Goes SO fucking hard for holidays. If he's home, he's absolutely got Christmas lights that dance with the music blaring from his external speakers. Would absolutely have a yard absolutely stuffed with blows up that change for every season, holiday, minor or major event.
Belial: He's super into cosplay, but he also really loves tacky Halloween costumes, the more weird or out there, the better.
Hit him with one of these and you'll find out about his whistling tea kettle laugh.
Zagan: Invented the Ninja Warrior (game show) concept after a muscle cult summoned him and asked for help stepping up their workouts. Now he occasionally goes to the human world in disguise to compete in them and he always has a great time. In most cases he would win without much effort, but he's just in it for fun and likes watching how hyped the humans get, so he never does.
Ppyong: Watched Ratatouille and spent a week trying to sit on peoples' heads to control them. If anyone played long, he told them they were childish and flew away with a disappointed look.
#what in hell is bad#whb satan#whb sitri#whb ppyong#whb astaroth#whb leraye#whb paimon#whb belial#whb zagan
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coping with fluff and christmas fic
“Hey,” the clerk greets him, wiping chlorophyll-stained hands on his smock, “What can I do for you?”
“Is the owner around?” Gale asks.
That easygoing smile directed at every other customer so far slightly fades in wattage.
“That would be me,” He says. His green apron has a nametag labeled ‘Bucky’ and his hand when he holds it out is still stained, smelling of dirt and sap and fresh cold water, “What problem can I fix?”
He has a loose-limbed way of moving, leading with his extremities rather than the bulk of his body, like a dog not quite grown into its frame. Gale feels himself prickle, the faint spice of attraction, though it could just be irritation lost en route. Either way, it’s politeness that doesn’t have him rubbing the sticky cling of sap from his fingers and or from outright asking if he had any idea how to run a business.
“Your phone,” is the compromise of temper, only a brief window for this conversation to happen, and a preservative interest in getting away from those eyes.
Bucky's smile doesn’t falter, though it takes on a puzzled slant, “My phone.”
“Your phone is routing to our shop,” Gale explains, slowly, like one might to a child, “I’ve been fielding calls all day asking if you carry sunflowers.”
“We do,” Bucky informs him, reaching for the phone.
“That’s great,” Gale answers mildly.
They can both hear the sound of the dial tone, and Bucky’s brow creases in a frown as he pulls his phone from his pocket. The screen is cracked, the phone case covered in stickers of different national parks, the lock screen is a picture of a sports stadium. It’s a far cry from the smooth black case of Gale’s own phone, his home screen a picture of Pilot asleep on his chest, hugging her own feet.
“Been watching you guys paint, kept meaning to come over and introduce myself but holidays are killer,” Bucky explains, still fiddling around with his phone. Gale resists the urge to tap his foot, straightening his back the longer he waits.
“It used to be a hair salon, and god those ladies would come over here all the time just to flirt. We could barely get any work done, broke their hearts when I had to shoot them down. I mean you boys are welcome to come over and do the same thing, cos’ I don’t discriminate, but I’ll ask you gotta at least buy some flowers when you do.”
“I’ll be sure to let them know.”
Making a soft noise of triumph, Bucky holds out his phone, close enough to Gale’s face that he has to squint, reach for his glasses until he realizes he left them back in the studio. He squints, frowning.
“Google’s got my number over your shop,” Bucky wiggles his phone, as if that would make it any easier for Gale to read. He pulls it away and Gale blinks his eyes back into focus, frowning harder.
“How do we fix it?”
“I dunno,” Bucky shrugs, “Usually you can go in and edit it yourself, but I can’t get into mine. I think it’s down.”
His own phone confirms much the same and Gale bites his tongue on a curse, wanting a cigarette with an ache that borders on nausea, “Fine. I gotta get back. Look– just. Keep trying will you? I don’t know what the hell an Azaelia is.”
Bucky points behind him with an uncapped blue pen, a scribbled-upon green sticky note clamped between his two fingers, “That one.”
“Thanks,” Gale says, throat slightly strangled.
“This is my number. Shoot me a text if you need help answering any floral questions.”
He would not be doing that.
“Sure,” He pinches the piece of paper between two fingers, winding his way back to the front door.
#have yall figured out what it is yet#swiftywrites#clegan#the heart is a muscle#mota#masters of the air
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