#something… anyways ! isn’t that so cool !

[absdollievu]

wait cause hear me out enemies to lovers with cheer captain reader and student council president abby...

Clash of Queens

councilpresident!abby x cheercaptain!reader

Thanks for this request!!

You walk into the student council room like you own the place—because, frankly, you kind of do. Maybe not on paper, but everyone knows your presence fills the halls faster than the morning bell. Hair perfect, uniform skirt rolled just enough to test the rules, and that signature smile that gets people to say yes before they know what you asked.

Everyone except her.

Abby Anderson.

She’s already there, of course, seated at the head of the table like some kind of dictator in a blazer. Her arms are crossed, muscles flexing under that annoyingly well-fitted shirt, and her expression is carved out of stone.

“I see you’re late,” she says, not even bothering to look up from the agenda in front of her.

You toss your cheer bag onto an empty seat and smile sweetly. “Fashionably. There’s a difference.”

“I’m not seeing one,” she replies flatly.

God, she’s so infuriating. Always so serious, so above it all. Like she doesn’t understand that school isn’t just about grades and order and endless budget meetings—it’s about spirit. About heart. About you.

You slide into your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and lean forward like you’re about to say something innocent. “Anyway. I brought my proposal for the pep rally. Halloween theme. Costumes, music, dance battle—maybe even a little friendly competition between cheer squad and the football team.”

You hear a couple of the other council members mutter in interest, clearly intrigued. But Abby just sighs like you handed her a pile of garbage.

“Denied.”

Your head jerks. “Excuse me?”

“The school board already approved a fall budget. We don’t have funds for extra decorations or costumes. And a ‘dance battle’ is not an appropriate use of student time.”

You blink, jaw tight. “It’s literally a pep rally. It’s meant to build hype. Morale. You’d know that if you ever showed up to one.”

A flicker of something passes through her eyes—surprise, maybe—but it’s gone in an instant.

“I’m not required to attend school-sponsored popularity contests,” she says, cool and even.

You lean back, tongue pressing against your cheek as your eyes rake over her. “Right. Because being adored by the student body is so beneath you.”

“And being taken seriously is so beyond you, huh?”

Oof. That one stings. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

The room’s gone awkwardly quiet. No one wants to jump in the middle of this—of you and Abby, because this isn’t the first time you’ve clashed. It won’t be the last.

You’re already reaching into your folder again, pulling out your Plan B proposal—a cheaper version with student volunteers and repurposed decorations—when she speaks again.

“We’re voting. All in favor of tabling the rally discussion until next week?”

Hands go up. Hesitantly, but they do.

You glare at her as the motion passes. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

She finally meets your eyes, and for a second the room disappears. Her gaze is sharp and unreadable. “If I wanted to make your life hell, trust me, you’d know.”

You smile—sharp and sugar-sweet. “Looking forward to it, President Anderson.”

You gather your things dramatically, brushing past her as you leave, brushing into her shoulder just enough to make it clear it wasn’t accidental. She doesn’t move. She’s a brick wall.

But you feel her eyes on your back as you walk out.

Let her look.

This war’s just getting started.

⸻

The next day, your squad finds out the gym’s suddenly unavailable for practice.

“Council said it’s being ‘inspected for safety compliance,’” your co-captain reads off a clipboard, rolling her eyes.

You don’t need a name to know who’s behind it.

You stand there, fingers tightening around your megaphone, as your cheerleaders groan and shuffle around in their uniforms, uncertain. It’s a warm afternoon—too warm for them to be wasting it on politics.

You plaster on a smile. “Guess we’re practicing on the field, ladies! Hope she likes surround sound, because we’re blasting the playlist loud enough to rattle those student council windows!”

⸻

Abby’s in the middle of a meeting when it starts: the thump of bass, followed by the most obnoxiously upbeat cheer mix you could find—complete with airhorn effects and someone yelling “LET’S GET LOUD!” every 45 seconds.

You’re halfway through your eighth-count when you catch sight of her storming down the bleachers, her fists clenched and face flushed.

She doesn’t even wait for the music to cut before she’s in your face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blink innocently. “Practicing.”

“With that?”

She gestures vaguely toward the speaker, which is currently blasting your playlist. You grin, loving every second of her irritation.

“Oh, I thought I’d bring the school spirit to you, since you’re always too busy hiding in your little council cave to come find it.”

“You’re disrupting—”

“You disrupted our practice first,” you snap. “Don’t act like you’re above the game when you’re already playing it.”

You don’t even realize how close the two of you have gotten until your cheer squad goes a little too quiet behind you. Abby’s standing right in front of you now—tall, broad, heat radiating off her like she’s seconds from combusting.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” she says, low enough that only you can hear it.

You raise a brow. “Remind me, what am I doing?”

She leans in closer, and for a terrifying moment you think she’s going to say something awful—but her eyes flick to your lips before snapping back up to your face.

“You’re trying to get under my skin.”

Your heartbeat skips. But you don’t let it show. “Then why does it feel like I’m already there?”

You step back with a smile and turn the volume up.

She doesn’t stop you.

⸻

The next few days are a chessboard of petty vengeance.

You make sure every poster for the upcoming blood drive somehow ends up covered with glitter and pom-poms. She mysteriously cancels your snack bar budget during the Homecoming game.

You swipe the last of her preferred printer paper. She “loses” your spirit week paperwork. She bans your team from using the PA system. You get the drama kids to start rehearsing next to her meetings.

It’s chaos.

It’s war.

And it’s kind of… fun.

Every time you pass each other in the halls, there’s this crackling energy between you. A silent challenge in every narrowed eye, every fake smile. Your friends are convinced you’re both either going to kill each other or hook up before midterms.

You deny it, of course.

But then comes the announcement.

⸻

“You and Abby Anderson,” the vice principal says, not looking up from his clipboard, “will be co-leading the Winter Formal Committee. Planning begins next week.”

You blink. “What?”

Abby, standing next to you in the office, speaks for the first time. “Absolutely not.”

“Principal’s orders,” he says. “You’re the top representatives of student life. It’ll look good for both of you.”

You can practically hear her grinding her teeth. You turn to her, your own voice sugary sweet.

“Guess we’re working together.”

She meets your gaze, eyes like ice.

“This isn’t over.”

You smile.

“Oh honey,” you whisper, stepping close again, “it hasn’t even started.”

⸻

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

“It was late at night, you held on tight”

Synopsis: A carefree night out with friends takes a sudden turn when your best friend Minji texts you out of nowhere. You didn’t expect anything serious—until she asks you to come over with a kind of honesty that makes your heart skip.

Word Count: 1,480

Minji X Male Reader

It was a blissful night.

Just a normal night out with friends.

A stop at the convenience store like it was tradition, a half-planned road trip with music spilling into the night sky. Everything felt light. Easy. The car windows were down, laughter bouncing off the metal, your favorite playlist rotating through like a soundtrack to a movie you didn’t know you were starring in.

“We should hit up that one spot,” someone suggested. “The one with the bomb fries.”

“Oh! Near 52nd Street? Let’s go!”

“What do ya think, Y/N?”

You grinned. “I’m up for anything.”

The car picked up speed as the road opened up. The sky above stretched wide and clear, dotted with stars. You leaned back in your seat, pulling out your phone to queue the next song when a message lit up the screen

Minji: hey loser, you free?

You blinked. Minji rarely texted you during nights like this—she usually kept her distance when she knew you were out.

You: im outside, why?

The reply came quick.

Minji: nvm, take care.

Short. Abrupt.

Something about it tugged at you.

“Yo, Y/N, you tryna buy some fries ye?” someone called out from the front.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold on.”

You stared at your screen. Thought about it.

Then hit call.

A chorus of teasing erupted around you.

“Ooh, calling someone?”

“It’s Minji, isn’t it?”

“Just date her already, man.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, holding the phone to your ear.

She picked up after two rings.

Her voice was clipped. “What. Why’d you call? Aren’t you busy?”

“Mhm,” you said, smiling despite yourself. “But I decided to call anyway, dumbo. What are you doing?”

“Studying,” she muttered. “You?”

“Near 52nd. Not far from your place.”

“Oh. Cool.”

A pause.

“Take care, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”

She hung up.

An Hour Later

You were finally seated, tray of fries in front of you. Golden, crispy, and completely overpriced.

“$25 for fries? We seriously need a financial advisor for our friend group,” you said, eyeing the mountain of carbs.

“For real,” someone laughed. “Hope this sh*t’s heavenly.”

You reached for the first fry—

Then your phone buzzed.a

Another message from Minji.

Minji: can you come over? please?

You stared.

A second later, another message arrived.

Minji: hey Y/N… can you come over please? I miss you.

Everything else faded out—the chatter, the fries, the playlist still running in the background. You stood up almost immediately.

“Hey, something just came up,” you said, grabbing your phone. “I gotta go.”

“Huh? You good?”

“You want me to drop you off somewhere?”

You shook your head. “No thanks. I’ll be fine. See you guys later.”

The streets were quieter now, the rush of the night slowly folding into stillness. You walked faster than usual, phone clenched in your hand, re-reading her words with a small, helpless smile growing on your lips.

I miss you.

Minji never said things like that. Not directly.

When you reached her front door, you didn’t even knock. She had already unlocked it. As if she knew you’d come.

You found her in her room, sitting on the bed, still wearing her hoodie, hair a little messy from leaning over textbooks. Her eyes flicked up when she saw you. She didn’t speak.

Neither did you.

You just stepped in, dropped your bag by the door, and asked softly, “So… what’s up, loser?”

She let out a breath that sounded too much like a sigh of relief.

“I just… didn’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Your chest tugged.

“Then I’m here,” you said. “Simple as that.”

Minji didn’t reply.

She just scooted over, lifting the edge of her blanket—just a little.

You took the invitation without a second thought

You sat beside her, the air thick with quiet warmth. Minji tucked her knees under her blanket, hugging them close like it was the only way to keep herself grounded.

“What happened?” you asked gently.

She hesitated, fingers picking at the threads of the blanket.

“…Nothing,” she finally whispered. “Just feeling extra lonely tonight. With all these papers and notes, I feel numb. And I need a break.”

You tilted your head, watching her profile under the dim light of her desk lamp. There was a faint crease in her brow, a heaviness in her eyes. You didn’t like seeing her like that.

“Whatchu wanna do?” you asked, voice soft but light, like you were trying to lift the air between you.

She looked over, lips twitching into the smallest smile. “Dunno. Just… anything but thinking.”

You nodded slowly. “Wanna make fun of bad movie trailers until we pass out?”

A faint laugh escaped her. “That actually sounds amazing

You queued the first trailer, something dramatic and low-budget, filled with jump cuts and a suspicious amount of slow-mo.

Minji sat close—too close. Her shoulder brushed yours every time she shifted, and her knee lightly bounced against yours under the blanket she’d tugged over both of you. Neither of you mentioned it.

“Okay,” you said, smirking, “this one’s called Space Heist 3: Moonblood. Thoughts?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why are they on a horse? In space?”

“That’s exactly what I’m wondering.”

Minji let out a soft laugh, her head tilting just slightly until it leaned into you again—less like an accident this time.

You didn’t move.

The next trailer started playing, but your attention flickered—trailing from the screen to the way her fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the corner of the blanket, then to the curve of her smile when something ridiculous happened on screen.

“You always do this,” she said suddenly.

“Do what?”

She turned to look at you, and it felt too quiet. Too still.

“You always show up right when I need you most.”

You tried to play it off with a crooked smile. “You did ask nicely.

She didn’t smile back right away.

Her gaze dropped to your lips—just for a second. Barely there.

You swallowed.

The laptop lit both your faces in flickering colors, but neither of you looked at it anymore.

“…Minji.”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated. Everything between you was loud now—the closeness, the warmth, the unspoken words that hung in the air like static.

“You’re really bad at watching trailers,” you said instead, voice low.

Her grin returned, but slower this time. “Guess I’m distracted.”

You hid the fact that the moment you heard her words you’re a walking ball of flames.

The next trailer started without either of you noticing, the volume just a background hum to the thudding pulse in your chest.

Minji leaned a little closer, not noticing at first, but the heat from her body radiated through the space between you. Her breath brushed your arm as she shifted, eyes still glued to the screen, though her focus seemed to drift more and more.

You could feel it. The almost electric energy humming between you, making the air in the room feel thicker.

You swallowed again, trying to focus, but your gaze kept slipping back to her—the way her lips moved as she mumbled under her breath at something ridiculous on the screen, the slight tilt of her chin when she laughed, and the way her eyes flicked to you in a glance so fleeting it almost didn’t register.

Your heart stuttered.

Why am I feeling like this?

“Y/N?” Minji’s voice was soft, so much quieter now, almost like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask the question.

“Yeah?” You turned toward her, leaning just a little.

For a long moment, she didn’t speak. She just looked at you—her eyes searching yours, her lips parted like she might say something, but instead, the air between you grew heavier.

Then, she shifted again, closer this time, and you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

She was close enough now that you could feel the warmth of her breath, just a fraction of an inch away. You didn’t know who moved first—maybe it was both of you—but suddenly, her lips were on yours.

It was soft, tentative at first, like the world might stop spinning if you held on too long. But then her hand brushed against your cheek, and something inside you snapped.

You leaned into the kiss, a gentle pressure at first, then deeper. Minji responded with the same hesitation, her lips meeting yours with a kind of urgency that made the room feel smaller, the space between you collapsing until there was nothing but the softness of her touch, the sweetness of her breath mingling with yours.

When you finally pulled away, it was as if the world had caught up with you. Both of you were breathless, staring at each other, unsure of what came next.

“…You’re still bad at watching trailers,” you murmured, breaking the tension.

Minji blinked, her lips curling into a quiet, breathless laugh. “Shut up, Y/N.”

She leaned in again, and this time, there was nothing tentative about it.

[yjdrabbles123]

hey! hey! loving all your writings and headcanons. I was wondering if you could maybe expand on the trouble story and do little!Mel using her new hand squeeze system?

Just for you anon, part four of Trouble! Do let me know if you like it :)

‘Hi Van.’ 

Van’s hand is warm and steady around her own and it’s the only thing that is keeping Melissa in place: she’s pretty sure that without Van beside her, she’d have already retreated to her bedroom to cry because Gen won’t even look at her and Jackie looks so mad too.

Of course, if it wasn’t for Van beside her, Jackie also wouldn’t have the chance to show that she’s mad at Melissa by very pointedly only saying hello to Van. So there’s that.

(Mel wonders for a moment how Jackie would show that Mel is Not Her Friend right not if Van wasn’t there. Probably turn her back on her with her arms folded and her expression all scrunched up and cross. Which she’s also doing now.)

‘Hey Jax.’ Van’s voice is so easy and calm, it’s as if she hasn’t even noticed the tension. Only the extra pressure as she squeezes Mel’s hand reassuringly tells Mel that she has. ‘Are you and Gen working on a new story?’

‘Uh huh.’ Gen folds her arms too. ‘And we don’t even need the treehouse to play in because we’re going to use the mole family and not the squirrels so it’s FINE.’ (Gen’s tone makes Mel doubt it really is as fine as all that.) ‘And even if SOME people think Sylvanians are lame, that’s just because they suck.’

Wow. Gen really did take Mel’s words to heart.

‘Oh they’re definitely not lame,’ Van agrees. ‘I mean-��� She nods to a paw poking out from the box of kleenex, several other figures arranged carefully around the rim. ‘It looks like that little dude is being buried alive or something- that’s definitely not lame!’

Gen and Jackie share a pleased smile and Mel is silently grateful yet again that Van is just so good at smoothing things over. She makes people feel good, Mel thinks- like a warm orange sunbeam.

‘Anyway,’ Van goes on. ‘I think Mel here has something to say to you both, don’t you buddy?’

Van’s still holding onto Melissa’s hand but now she lets go, standing behind Mel with her hands on her Mel’s shoulders, a warm solid presence behind her: it’s ok, I’m here.

Mel takes a deep breath. She was brave enough to talk to Tai, she can be brave now.

‘I’m really sorry I was mean,’ she says, trying hard not to mumble. It doesn’t feel like enough- she thinks about how Tai apologised to her earlier. ‘I was….’ How to explain things without explaining everything? ‘I was upset,’ she decides to go with. ‘And I just wanted to be by myself but I shouldn’t have said mean things to you and I’m really sorry. And Sylvanians aren’t lame,’ she adds quickly. ‘They’re really cool and you’re really cool and I’m sorry.’

There’s a moment in which they just look at each other….and then Gen giggles.

‘You’re such a bad liar Mel, you don’t think they’re cool, you think they’re creepy! I know you do!’

‘But we are pretty cool,’ Jackie puts in, and she’s smiling too. She picks up a figure from the kleenex box- a rabbit- and twiddles it between her fingers. ‘Mrs Bunny says you’re forgiven. And she’s not usually very forgiving.’

‘She’s burying her husband because he tried to steal her life savings,’ Gen puts in gleefully, and Van grins and puts out a finger to give a very tiny high five to the bunny with a very emphatic ‘You GO girl!’

And Mel knows everything is ok. They’re not mad at her and Tai isn’t mad at her and no one found out about her accident and now she’ll have her new System to let Van know when she needs the bathroom without having to say it so she’ll probably never have any problems with that again. Definitely.

Except…. It doesn’t quite work out like that.

First there’s the fact that for the system to work, everyone has to know what it means if Mel squeezes the hand of whoever is big and in charge. Which is….kind of fine in theory but really, really embarrassing in practise, even though Van promises she’ll explain to everyone without Mel actually needing to be there.

It also means that Van has to wait for everyone to be in the right headspace to be told which means having to tell everyone individually. Which takes a few days.

(When she reaches for Nat’s hand during movie night, she can tell before she’s even done it, from the slight surprise on Nat’s face, that Van hasn’t had a chance to speak to her yet. She snatches her hand back, her face on fire and her chest suddenly tight with anxiety, and tries to not look at Nat’s slightly bemused smile. Luckily, luckily, Shauna pauses the movie two minutes later because she’s thirsty- and Jackie gets up to stretch and Lottie makes a beeline for the bathroom which gives Mel an out….but even so, it makes the whole thing feel a bit more scary.)

The next time she needs to use it, it should be easier- they’re just milling around the garden and half heartedly trying to decide if they should start actually planting things or if the tangle of mint and lavender and forget-me-nots is ok as it is (Lottie and Jackie are lobbying hard for the wild look, Mari insists that it’s stupid to grow anything that can’t handle being hit by a soccer ball, Shauna says their yard looks like the house has been abandoned and Mari says Shauna’s FACE looks like it’s been abandoned and Shauna says that doesn’t even make sense and Mel would laugh at the look on Mari’s face if it wasn’t for the fact that she was trying desperately not to squirm too obviously.)

Van is within reach- Mel just needs to take a few steps over to where she’s scuffing the toes of her worn sneakers into the soil and reminiscing with Nat about the time they tried to grow a garden in a patch of dirt behind Nat’s trailer as kids. 

That’s all she needs to do, it’s all she needs to do- and eventually she manages it: she makes her arms and legs work and pushes herself through the part of her brain that keeps her frozen and she slides her hand in Van’s, her thighs pressing tight together and her face hot, and gives it two quick squeezes and Van looks at her so proudly that it actually makes her chest hurt because she doesn’t deserve this, she doesn’t deserve Van’s pride or her care or her love, and Van redirects Nat into a conversation with Tai so that she can break things off and starts walking Mel back inside hand-in-hand, and Mel is so relieved that she did it, she was brave-

Then she gives a little squeak and she and Van look down to see her pants getting very, very wet.

‘Oh buddy-’

She’s frozen, too humiliated to move or speak or do anything at all other than bite her lip so hard she can taste blood while trying to blink back tears.

Even after everything, she still didn’t make it and the shame of it is bitter in her throat.

‘C’mon.’ Van is gently guiding her inside, an arm around her shoulders. The one good thing is that everyone else is still outside so there’s no risk anyone will know but she knows and Van does too and what if Van is annoyed with her, even after everything Van did to help?

‘’M sorry-’

‘Hey, no-’ Van’s voice is very firm. ‘Remember the rule? No apologising for things you can’t help, remember?’

Mel tries to gulp back a sob.

‘But- I tried to- I still-’

‘Mel. Buddy.’ Van guides her into the bathroom and starts the shower running, an old routine. ‘Remember last week?’

Mel….is going to need Van to be more specific than that.

‘At the park,’ Van goes on. Her voice is a tiny bit stiffer and there’s just the hint of redness in her own cheeks but maybe it’s the shower steam? ‘That asshole husky and it’s shit-for-brains owner.’

Ah. Mel does remember that. She’s just been acting like she didn’t because Van very very obviously did Not want to talk about it so no one did.

‘Should I have said sorry?’ Van presses.

‘What?’

‘Well-’ Van’s shrug is very affectedly nonchalant. ‘You guys did do all that stuff to help- Nat was trying to distract me and Tai and Shauna were holding my hands and I had all of you guys between me and it and-’ Van’s definitely blushing but she keeps her voice steady as she helps Mel out of her clothes when Mel’s own hands won’t stop shaking. ‘Well, you know what happened. We all had to go home early because I freaked out. Despite everything. So i should have said sorry, right?’

(Mel remembers that actually Van did say sorry- a tiny broken whisper through her tear-clogged throat as Tai gave up the drivers seat to Lottie so that she could climb in besides a still-shaking Van. But she isn’t going to mention that.)

‘No, of course not!’

‘So don’t you dare say sorry either, ok?’ Van makes a funny fake-fierce face and Mel actually feels her lips twitch. How does Van do it? How does Van somehow make things ok always?

‘....ok.’

‘Good.’ Van bends to scoop up Mel’s clothes. ‘Is it a my-tshirt day?’

Mel pauses and nods. She wishes she wasn’t quite so babyish but she can’t help it- wearing Van’s clothes is so comforting and she really needs that little pick up right now.

‘I think your favourite one is clean-’ Van refers to the blue shirt with the wolf graphic that Mel knows she’s only not thrown away because Mel likes it so much. ‘When we go back out, do you wanna tell Mari that we’ve decided we want to grow a rose garden over the soccer pitch?’

Mel giggles, even though her eyes are still teary.

‘Uh huh.’

‘Cool. If you can keep it going for more than ten minutes, I’ll buy you a popsicle next time we’re out.’

(They keep it up for a grand total of 74 minutes and Van is so delighted that Mel gets a popsicle and a new temporary tattoo.

Mel quickly walks in front of Van when a lady with a teacup poodle crosses onto the pavement right in front of them. Van gives Mel dry shorts and a hug when they get home after an unexpected traffic jam on the way home from the store. And neither of them say sorry.)

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[elevenenthusiast]

If those leaks about stranger things 5 on twitter are true then i have nothing else to say other than that it sounds ass.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

sometimes i remember that gojo wanted to tell geto “we’ll meet again, right?” just before he died but forced himself not to knowing it would have cursed him and then i start thinking about how kind and thoughtful gojo is as a character and how he hasn’t been able to lean on another human being since geto defected and then i want to . Scream

[penn-dragon]

Hey, on the topic of my own fic writing, I’ve got a question for my followers/fic readers.

I have a tendency to never post any of my writing, because my various unmedicated (I’m working on it) neurodivergences and mental illnesses make it very hard for me to ever finish pieces, and I feel really bad about starting a fic that someone could be really into and then potentially never finishing it when my brain suddenly decides I’m not allowed to write any more of it. So a long time ago I made it a rule for myself that I never post anything until it’s 100% finished, even if I have like multiple chapter that are perfectly ready to be published. Which ultimately leads to me never posting anything and sitting on a hoard of writing that only myself and select friends ever see.

So my question is, it more upsetting to read part of a story that might never get finished? Or to know that there’s writing out there that you don’t get to read just because it’s not finished?

[mylove-thresher]

be a silly seal is sm fun. Like yeah bro. I wanna be a silly seal.

[abbey-abdominal]

would u still love me if I was a worm would u still love me if I had nothing to offer u if I couldn’t talk to u or cry to u or touch u would u still love me if i essentially was not the same as I started out w/ u would u still love me even if u hated bugs and I was a jester girl and u were a ragdoll girl and we’ll never be the same after letting ourselves be vulnerable with each other and exposing our innards would u still

[ntaras]

kenmac u r my everything

[headful-of-worms]

I really need to stop getting my hopes up and brainstorming/ building D&D characters for campaigns that aren’t finalized or don’t even exist

[floral-hex]

this is just like in the 9th book of my series. “oh cool, can I read it?” i haven’t written it yet. “well, can I read the first one, then?” i haven’t written that one, either 😐

[darkstarcore]

Why the fuck does Reclusa look like a Rabbids reject

[whumpy-wyrms]

can someone just like spam me with tllr things you want me to draw. can be anything i just neeeed motivationnn

[soni-dragon]

Never ever EVER buy household appliances with ai in them. Most ridiculous things I’ve ever encountered

[courageisneverforgotten]

snow white looks bad this, moana 2 that. the real question is who in the world wanted a live action mufasa or lilo and stitch movie