#still working on pins and stickers

[ryuki-draws]

Who's ready for TFNation? :D

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Doubling up on my cosplay efforts and making that fish scarf and shirt and also that angel's crop top armour

[ourceliumnetwork]

huh... the way my parents showed me the world worked was really kind of fucked up, it's no fucking wonder i have an anxiety disorder frankly.

[kodasea]

Rogues Gallery (2020)

[cesium-sheep]

fantastic news so far on aliexpress I have found decoden cream and hundreds of jank-fuck bootleg kirbies (and some ostensibly legit kirbs as well, being sold at legit prices)

[autism-corner]

guy found a way to make DIY badges and pins!!!! YIPPEE

[itneverendshere]

we say we’re different but we got the same eyes - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you needed to stop taking other people shift’s. 

it’s not like you wanted to, but at least they were paying you to do so, enough to let you actually chill this summer without stressing about rent or whatever else adulthood decided to throw at you.

all you had to do was show up and do the job. first at lila’s dinner, now at the bougie country club, as a cart girl.

you’d done this before, and sure, the old men were always a little too handsy with their beer guts hanging over their tacky polos, but at least they tipped well. you could tolerate them. smile, giggle at their half-assed jokes, and let them feel like they still had it. 

fine. pay me for my pain, grandpa. 

today however, instead of your usual sugar-daddy wannabes, you were babysitting frat boys. fresh out of their first year of college, probably still hungover from their last keg stand.

nineteen-year-old idiots in pastel shorts and backwards hats, making everything about themselves.

“bro, you remember that party at kappa? dude, swear i blacked out after like, five shots.”

wow, five whole shots? congrats, you absolute child. should i get you a sticker for that?

don’t even get started on their conversations about girls. one of them, chad or brad or whatever his stupid name was, just had to loudly detail how some poor innocent girl “totally wanted him last night but was playing hard to get.”

yeah, bro, she was probably just trying to get through the night without having to mace your entitled ass.

it was constant. the whole damn morning. all they talked about was frat parties, girls they didn’t deserve, and how they "couldn’t wait to get back to school."

you'd give anything to remind them how utterly irrelevant their frat status was in the real world, but you couldn’t. nope. you had to keep your game face on, pour their drinks, and pretend like they weren’t giving you a headache that rivaled your worst hangovers.

at least the elderly snobs tipped well. sure, they were pretentious and acted like you were beneath them, but they'd slip you a twenty or more with a smug little wink. that made it easier to tolerate their "i’ve been golfing here since before you were born" bullshit.

but these brats?

half the time they forgot to tip at all, and when they did remember, it was a crumpled five like they were doing you some grand favor. and of course, of course, they couldn’t just keep their obnoxious, beer-breath comments to themselves. no, they had to make it worse by hitting on you—hard. 

painfully hard. it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, except instead of pulling over to help, you were stuck right in the middle, praying someone would just tow your ass out.

“yo, what’s your name again?” one of them asks. bryce, probably. his face just screams bryce.

he's leaning against the cart like he thinks it's going to make him look cool, but really, he’s just sloshing his drink all over the place. classy.

“it’s on my name tag,” you deadpan, pointing to the little badge pinned to your polo. you're not about to give him any more than that.

but he's not letting it go. “oh yeah? cute name for a cute girl. you single or what?”

jesus christ. here we go.

you resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they’d get stuck in the back of your head. 

“’m here to work,” you sigh, voice sweet enough to mask the absolute disdain you're feeling. you know what comes next.

they always think they can charm you if they just keep going, like you are some kind of challenge.

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” another one chimes in, this one wearing sunglasses even though it's barely 9 a.m.

who do you think you are, pitbull? 

he gives you this sleazy grin like he thinks he's smoother than he actually is. “we could take you out after your shift. grab a drink. bet you’re fun, huh?”

fun? FUN?! if by fun he means fantasizing about driving this cart straight into the water hazard just to escape this conversation, then sure, you're a real blast.

you look around the course, hoping maybe one of the older golfers needs a refill or something—anything to get you away from this nightmare. no luck. it's just you and these clowns.

“i don’t date customers,” you say, a line you’d perfected at this point.

you plaster on your fakest smile, the kind that said please tip me and then leave me the hell alone. but bryce wasn’t giving up.

“you’re really gonna turn us down? i mean, we’re the best thing on this course right now.”

best thing?

the only thing they're the best at seems to be embarrassing themselves. this is the type of guy who probably thinks buying a girl a drink meant she owns him something.

you can't even be mad; it's almost... sad. almost.

“maybe you should focus on your game,” you suggest, glancing at his scorecard. “you’re, what, ten over par already?”

that shuts him up real quick, his face going from cocky to confused like he didn't expect you to know how golf worked.

his friend with the sunglasses? he's still trying.

“we can show you a good time, y’know. we’ve got a house down on the beach. you like boats?”

ah, yes. the boat move. the go-to for guys who think a half-assed yacht and a cooler full of cheap beer is the height of luxury.

you’d seen it a million times in this godforsaken town.

you're not impressed.

you shoot them another smile, “i like tips.”

they all blink confusedly, clearly not used to a girl calling them out so directly. the frat boys mumble something between themselves, looking awkward for the first time all day.

finally, one of them fishes a crumpled twenty out of his pocket and tosses it your way. 

oh, wow, big spender. 

you scoop it up, shoving it into your pocket and giving them a little nod. “thanks, boys. good luck with your game.”

you thought the twenty bucks might’ve bought you a few minutes of peace, but no. they're back at it, swinging at golf balls like they aren't trying to flirt in between their awful shots.

you roll the cart over to the next part of the course, half-listening to their constant chatter.

something about “last semester” this, and “pledge party” that. god, they just never stop. it's like someone hit the repeat button on the world’s most annoying playlist.

one of them calls you over again, like he can't wait five minutes for his next drink. you start prepping them, half tuning them out, just trying to get through it, when suddenly, miraculously, they shut the hell up.

for a second, you think maybe the universe is finally doing you a favor. you don't even question it, just start pouring drinks faster.

a quiet frat boy is a gift. but then you hear it:

“dude!” one of them practically tackles the other, all wide-eyed and hyped up like a little kid who just saw his favorite cartoon character. “is that rafe fucking cameron?!”

oh, for fuck’s sake.

your stomach drops. of course it has to be him. because clearly, your morning isn't being shitty enough. you don't even look at first. 

one of the guys starts flipping out, hitting his buddy’s shoulder like it's the coolest thing to ever happen.

“bro, no way. no way. that’s rafe cameron? he used to be the president of our frat, man. two years ago! he’s a fucking legend!”

legend? you almost laugh.

the only legend rafe is to you it's a legendary asshole. a smug, infuriating, gorgeous asshole who you have been avoiding like the plague. the same one who has been blowing up your phone nonstop, trying to get back into your life.

the same one you swore down you’d never sleep with again after he pulled that stunt at the dinner—and then, of course, ended up in his bed two nights ago. you haven't spoken to him since. you’d been ignoring him again—well, trying to—but now here he is. in the flesh. and these idiots are drooling over him like he's some kind of frat god.

you turn your head, and he's striding across the green like he doesn't have a care in the world. of course he looks good. he always does.

wayfarer’s pushed up in his hair, that cocky-ass grin on his face, wearing a polo like he's the face of a country club catalog. you know he’d see you any second. hell, he probably already has. 

yeah, you’d been avoiding him, and yeah, maybe you’d blocked his number twice, but that didn’t stop him from calling with a different one. or from somehow finding you the other night at the party when you were weak enough to let him back in, only to get burned again.

“holy shit, he’s coming this way,” one of the frat boys mutters, shaking with excitement.

you don't move, don't acknowledge him. but you can feel his eyes on you. it's like a sixth sense at this point. you'd crave it so much before, when it was all a silly game in your head, see how much you could push until he cracked and gave into you. now it's a curse.

the boys are watching him approach like he's some kind of celebrity.

“should we say something to him?” one whispers. “i heard he’s like, killing it in the business world now. family’s loaded.”

yeah, you think bitterly. killing it. if you count being a trust fund brat as an accomplishment.

rafe's closer now, and you know this moment is inevitable. the frat boys are giddy, already nudging each other, probably ready to beg him for networking advice or whatever the hell frat bros did.

you keep your eyes down, focusing on pouring the drinks, acting like you don't even notice him. like he doesn't phase you in the slightest.

“hey,” a familiar voice drawls. you don't have to lift your head to know it's him. naturally, he stops right by you. because why wouldn’t he?

“rafe fucking cameron!” one of the guys yells, unable to keep it together anymore. “you’re like a legend, man. kappa forever!”

you never cringed so hard in your life.

rafe smirks, that signature look spreading across his face. “yeah, somethin' like that.”

you clench your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your face neutral. no way in hell are you about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still gets to you. 

everyone else around you are tripping over their words just to get his attention. it's embarrassing to watch. the kids acting like he's some kind of messiah, not just some white rich guy with a trust fund and a bad attitude half the time.

“man, the outer banks is fucking sick,” one of them says, bouncing on his feet like an overexcited puppy. “we’ve been hitting the beaches, bars, y’know, living it up. and bro, the girls here? smoking hot.”

here we go. 

you pretend to be very invested in the cooler, rearranging the ice just to keep your hands busy. they're about to start pointing at you any second now; you can sense it.

the way they keep looking over at you made it obvious they're gearing up for something.

and then, like clockwork, it happens.

“yeah, man,” one of them gestures way too enthusiastically in your direction. “that cart girl over there? we’ve been trying all morning.”

oh, fuck right off, you resist the urge to throw a bottle at him.

you’d rather die than hear what lame pickup line is coming next, but what you really don't want to hear is whatever rafe's about to say.

there was a pause, as if he's taking a second to let it sink in. and when he finally does speak, his voice is all smooth confidence, casual as anything.

“so,” he starts, still with smirk you hate and know so well, “you’ve met my girl?”

my girl? my fucking girl?

one of them, manages to stammer, “uh—wait, she’s… she’s your girl?”

you can feel the tension creeping up the back of your neck. this's exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.

no matter what happened between you, no matter how messy things got, he always acted like he owned you in private. never in front of his friends, like just because you ended up in his bed, you were his to claim whenever he felt like it.

still keeping your eyes glued to the drinks, you feel your blood boil. you aren't his fucking girl. you're barely on speaking terms, aside from that one weak moment.

he's only saying it to mess with you.

one of the frat boys lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “damn, man. didn’t know you were still pulling like that.” he shoots a glance at you again, not even bothering to hide the once-over.

rafe just chuckles, that low, infuriating laugh of his, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. “what can i say?” he drawls, as if the whole thing is just a game to him. “guess i’ve still got it.”

you're this close—this close—to snapping. you can feel your fists clenching at your sides. you're not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. not here. not in front of these frat boys who're still looking at you like some kind of trophy.

rafe’s voice is closer now. you don't have to look up to know he's standing right by the cart.

“you good over there?” he asks, that fake casual tone still lingering.

you don't answer. just kept doing your job, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it hurts. but he isn't going to let it go. he never did when he wanted to prove a point.

“hey, baby.” he greets you again, leaning in slightly. you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. “you gonna pretend you don’t know me now?”

you take a deep breath, finally turning to face him. he's standing way too close, sunglasses pushed up on his head, that stupid expression plastered across his face.

the frat boys are all watching, wide-eyed, like they just stumbled onto some kind of reality show drama.

“you’re funny, cameron.” the guys all exchange glances, clearly picking up on the tension but too dumb to understand it, “can you guys give us a minute?”

one of them pipes up with an awkward laugh, “wait, but we—”

you don't let him finish. “one. minute.” 

they finally catch on that it isn't a request and before they can awkwardly protest or ask why, rafe tilts his head towards them, craning his neck just enough to raise a single brow. the change in his posture is subtle but enough to have them clamming up instantly.

like magic, their frat-boy bravado melts right off. it's wild how fast a bunch of college boys can shrink under the gaze of someone like him.

the power trip they’ve been riding for the last hour stop.

“uh, yeah, you know what?” one of them coughs out, backing up so fast he almost trips over his golf bag. “we should, uh… we’ll hit the bathroom. real quick.”

“yeah, yeah, we’ll be right back,” another one adds, practically stumbling over himself to follow.

they scatter like scared puppies, tails tucked between their legs, and you can't help the small, satisfied smirk that twitches at the corner of your mouth.

finally, a moment of peace.

except, it's not peace. not with rafe standing there. 

as soon as the frat boys are out of earshot, you spin around, without thinking, you shove him in the chest with both hands, hard enough to catch him off guard. he stumbles back a step, his face twisting into a look of surprise.

"are you fucking crazy?" you snap, "do you not get the fucking hint, country club? i don’t want this. i don’t want you here, and i sure as hell don’t want your bullshit claims that ’m your girl in front of those idiots. leave. me. alone.”

he steadies himself, raising both hands as if trying to calm you down. “’m trying to be better, okay? ’m trying. i apologized the other night, didn’t i? ’m—”

“no, you didn’t!” you look at him like he's the dumbest man on earth, cutting him off, your hands balled into fists at your sides. “you didn’t apologize! you said i was overreacting, that i was being ‘dramatic.’ then, you fucked me and acted like that made it all better.”

his jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath as he glances around the mostly empty golf course before his eyes move back to you, his voice low but firm. "that’s not how i meant it—"

“you always have an excuse,” you interrupt, stepping closer, not backing down. “every time, it’s the same thing. you think a half-assed apology or a night in bed makes up for the way you treat me in public? like ‘m just some thing you get to claim whenever you feel like it?"

he visibly recoils at the word you chose, like it hurts him, “i know,” he finally mutters “i know i was a dick at that dinner. but ’m trying, okay? i’ve been calling you, texting you—”

“i didn’t ask. am i that good in bed? go find someone else.”

rafe’s hand flies up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh escaping him. he draggs his tongue against his cheek. his voice coming out clipped, “i don’t want someone else,” he grunts out, sounding more exasperated than ever. “jesus fucking christ.”

you let out a laugh, stepping back, eyes rolling.

“oh, right. that’s it? ’m really that good in bed, huh? that’s why you’re here?” you cross your arms, your tone biting, daring him to say otherwise. “that’s all this has ever been, right? physical. you don’t call unless you want something. so what now? why are you trying so hard? what the hell are you trying for?”

he doesn't respond right away, his fingers are digging into the bridge of his nose like he's trying to hold himself together. the silence continues, and you can see him wrestling with his words. he's never been the type to say what he was feeling.

everything is buried under layers of cocky bravado, that impenetrable wall he put up to keep everyone at arm’s length. including you.

finally, he dropps his hand and takes a step closer, his voice coming out rough like he's forcing the words out. “’m here because i don’t want someone else. i want you, alright? can you just get that through your fucking head?”

you scoff, “because i know you and won’t get attached?”

he snaps, raising his voice, “no! fuck, it’s not that simple.”

"not that simple?" your hands are shaking, and you accidentally knock over one of the bottles you’d been holding before, sending it tumbling to the ground. you don't bother picking it up.

“it’s pretty fucking simple. we’re just fucking. so, tell me, what exactly is complicated about that? you call, i come over, we have sex, and that’s it. so why the fuck do you start ignoring me in public like ’m some kind of fucking disease?”

rafe opens his mouth, but you don't spare him the chance to speak, you're on a roll, months of pent-up frustration. 

“i don’t give a fuck if you’re with someone else, rafe!” you can hear the bitterness dripping from every word. you're practically spitting them out, “what pisses me off is that you had the audacity—the fucking nerve—to ask me to stay that night. do you know how fucking stupid i felt? how the fuck do you think i felt when you acted like i didn’t exist the next day?”

you can feel your hands trembling again, the adrenaline making you shaky, cursing under your breath.

“for once, i was nice enough to care about you, to stay, and that’s the shit you pulled. treated me like a ghost. like i was nothing.”

he just stands there, staring at you, his jaw tight, but he doesn't say a word. his face is hard to read, but you don't care about his feelings. you're not done yet.

“i was fine with the sex. i was fine with leaving afterwards and then you had to go and fuck it all over.”

rafe’s blue eyes flash, and you can see the realization hit him, like he's connecting the dots too fast for your liking.

his brows furrow as he breathes out, “wait. you’re mad at me because i made you—” he hesitates, like the word is foreign in his mouth, “care for me?”

you let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “oh, for fuck's sake, country club. don't flatter yourself.”

“you always do that shit,” he points out, stepping closer “you never call me by my name when we’re having a serious conversation. it's almost like you’re running away.”

you arch an eyebrow, incredulous. “are you delusional? you’re the one acting like a child.”

“’m not being delusional. you only say my name in my room when it’s just the two of us.” he leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if he's trying to keep this moment between you, his blue eyes lock onto yours making your stomach twist. “’m clearly not the only one who’s pretending here; you’re just as bad.”

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you walk back, trying to create space, but he closes the distance with easy confidence.

“pretending? please. ‘m not the one playing house in my bedroom while acting like i don’t know you outside of it.”

rafe lets out a low, frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair like he's close to losing it. 

“god, you’re fucking infuriating,” he mutters, voice gruff, “you think i don’t fucking feel it too? you’re the only one pissed off, the only one confused?” his voice dipps lower in frustration. “i can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard i try. "

“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you mocked back, “must be so hard, huh? being obsessed with a girl you can’t even respect in public.”

his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. you gasp, not out of fear but because the heat of his touch awakes the resting butterflies in your stomach. you hate how much your skin reacts to him, how just the feel of his grip makes your brain go foggy and shut down.

“i do respect you,” he growls, as if you just insulted him, “i just—fuck.” his eyes dart between yours, as if searching for something. then, like clockwork, he points at your work uniform—the stupid polo and that absurdly short skirt that's practically a sin in itself.

“this,” he grits out, fingers gesturing to the tight polo that does absolutely nothing but make your boobs look way too inviting, “is not okay.”

you blink, pretending to be unaffected, but his words have a way of crawling under your skin.

“oh, right,” you nod sarcastically, even though your pulse has kicked up a notch. “blame my uniform, like that’s the reason you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

rafe groans like you're causing him actual physical pain, his hands gripping the edge of the golf cart now, knuckles turning white.

“shit, yeah, i’ll blame the uniform,” he says, eyes blazing as he corners you. “that tiny-ass skirt, walking around in front of me all day, making me lose my goddamn mind.”

just like that, his hand slide right under your mini skirt, his fingers gripping a handful of your ass with a confidence that makes your breath hitch.

the sudden contact sends a rush of heat through you, and a soft gasp escapes your glossy lips.

that’s when he takes his chance.

with another low groan, rafe seizes the moment, pressing his body against yours, leaning down as he kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth, the kiss deepening in an instant.

it's not sweet—you can tell that now because you know that hidden part of him, you can tell the difference when it comes out. today he's desperate like he’s been waiting to it for days and can't take it anymore.

he's a starved man on a mission. it's a feverish mess of spit and teeth, his grip on you impossibly tight.

his hand still kneads your ass, blunt fingernails digging into your skin trying to keep you from bolting away. at the same time, his other hand slides up to your neck, firm but not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you locked in place—he's daring you to pull away, knowing full well you won't.

logic doesn't stand a chance against the way his lips move against yours, he's sucking all the fight from you.

his tongue slides against yours, and your stomach jumps at the sensation, making you gasp. you try to pull back for a second, needing air, needing space, but his grip on your neck tightens, holding you in place as his lips move against yours like he'll die if you stop.

and maybe he would. maybe he's just as messed up about all of this as you are.

rafe’s teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and right then and there, you know your panties are already ruined. you can't stop the small whimper that escapes your throat, and he moans at the sound, his hips pressing harder against yours, making you feel just how much he wants you.

“fuck,” he almost whines against your lips, like he's barely keeping himself from fucking you out there in the open, not giving a shit if anyone's watching. his hand on your neck glides around to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he tuggs slightly, tilting your head back so he can kiss you even harder, his lips moving against yours in a way that makes it impossible to think straight. “you have no idea what you do to me.”

the truth is, you do. you know exactly what you do to him because he's doing the same thing to you.

but there's no way in hell you’ll admit that. not when he already has you completely under his spell, melting into his touch, drowning in the way he kisses you like he owns you.

you attempt to hold onto that edge of disdain you always throw his way when things get too personal. his breath is hot and ragged as he hovers.

his hand, still tangled in your hair, loosens slightly but stays there. it's so fucking unfair—the way he just sneaks under your skin, the way your body betrays you every time he gets close. you hate it.

especially with the way his fingers are already sliding up your bare thigh under that ridiculously skirt, as if he owns every single inch of you, like he has a goddamn right to touch you like that.

and instead of pushing him away like you should, you find yourself leaning into him. and fuck, the look in his eyes—all black, wild, like he it's his last shred of self-control—is enough to make your pulse skyrocket.

“asshole,” it comes out weak, pathetic and almost breathless, and you hate yourself for it.

“yeah,” he whispers back, lips brushing yours, his hand still in your hair, still holding you close. “but you like it.”

god, maybe you did.

the frat boys finally return, their laughter breaking the bubble that had you on a leash.

within seconds, you're pushing rafe’s hands away, stepping back as of them claps him on the back.

“we miss anything?”

“nah, just catchin’ up,” rafe said, brushing off the whole thing as if it's no big deal.

you, on the other hand, pick up one of the empty glasses, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

one of the guys chuckles. “man, you two… y’all good?”

no. not when there's the slightest of the slightest possibility that you're starting to feel something for him. not the stupid crush you had before, or the simple curiosity of figuring out how he was in bed. 

real, scary, big girl feelings. 

no way. not after everything. not after he pulled that same crap, acting like you didn’t know you in front of his friends, then turning around and getting all possessive when it suited him.

 “better than ever.”

eyes locked on rafe, you bite out the final blow.

“yeah, better than ever. just like every other fucking rich frat boy—using daddy’s money, pretending you’re a god. but deep down, you’re all the same. losers. why don’t you keep them company, huh? you’re all family after all.”

his blue eyes drop to the green field at the mention of his dad, but he keeps quiet despite realizing you’re doing this on purpose.

he’ll let you have this one because he knows it’s deserving. fuck he’d probably let you punch him in the face if you asked him to. 

you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving him behind, knowing you hit him exactly where it hurt.

[emptymasks]

They're done! I really want to try and make prints again as it's been years and I've never felt like I was very good at making whole posters. Dipping my toe back in with these silly chibis of each Papa with every Ghoul they've had. Perhaps they can also work as a guide for those wanting to learn all the characters? I added in a fair amount of little references with the Ghoul's poses so it'll be interesting to see what you guys figure out and notice!

The prints are on pre-order and won't ship out until November. I've put up 25 of each to start with but if they get low on stock I'll keep adding more until I have them printed and then it'll be a set amount in stock.

Also a reminder about the stickers of every Ghost Papa and Ghoul that I made earlier this year that are also available as customisable badges! Thank you so much to everyone who already bought them and got Etsy to list them as a 'bestseller' for a while. They're still up and in stock.

EDIT: someone informed me Delta was not in Secondo's era so sorry little water ghoul but he got edited out of that drawing.

Characters featured on the prints and are also available on stickers and badges: Papa Emeritus I / Primo, Papa Emeritus II / Secondo, Papa Emerirus III / Terzo, Papa Emeritus IV / Cardinal Copia, Aether, Air, Alpha / Fire, Aurora, Chain / Water, Cirrus, Cowbell, Cumulus, Delta, Dewdrop / Sodo, Earth, Ifrit, Ivy, Lake, Mist, Mountain, Omega / Quintessence, Pebble, Phantom, Phil / Special Ghoul, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Zephy.

I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️

[ID: Four landscape drawings, one for each of Ghost's Papas and the Ghouls that were in the band with them while they were the lead singer. Each Papa is in the center with each of their ghouls standings to their sides. Every character has their name written above or below them, on brightly coloured backgrounds for each Papa's robe colour. Also, individual pixel art chibi drawings of 69 characters from various European musicals (listed above) that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds.]

For those who want to know what the little references in the prints are and don't want to guess, they're under the cut:

Omega can be a stompy boy when he's playing guitar, Alpha likes to throw up peace signs, Air is very found of the rock horns hand symbol, there's one close-up photo of Lake out there where you can clearly see his black sclera contacts and he's doing double 'horns' hand symbol, Mountain infamously takes his shoes off when playing the drums and leaves them on the stage at the site of his drumkit, Dewdrop likes to like.. most things including his guitar and his picks and sometimes his own hand, Pebble liked to hand out his drumsticks at the end of shows by dropkicking them into the crowd, Omega wore a flower tucked into his guitar strap during one show and Terzo constantly flirts with him more than other ghouls, Delta is suspected to be the ghoul that attempted to kick an audience member off stage when they climbed onstage and attempted to kiss Terzo, Zephyr was the only band member and only keyboardist who sat down while playing, the special ghoul played by Tobias wore a nametag 'Phil' in an interview, Swiss constantly is showing all his teethies with his smiles and always wiggling and moving around, Aether and Dewdrop often interact with Dew teasing/bothering Aether, Dew and Rain also often interact with Dew constantly reaching to grab his neck and attempt to kiss him, aaaand I think that's everything I intentionally included other than just generally tried to get the poses and expressions to match the personality we've seen from each ghoul.

[mattastr0phic]

MSpaint docm77 and painted rendog Design notes: - cloven hoof crocs (designed to still have functionality equal to his hooves) - hairy goat. upper body is only fuzzier so it doesn't catch fire as easily. - 2 butterflies: one pin, one sticker - very well loved fanny pack. - rendoc if you squint - denim apron to protect his front when he works on close up projects - prosthetic arm balance goes around his back and connects by his heart

[mikeystrawberry]

Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

[the-flaneur]

hi flan! Could i pleas have charles leclerc and a boiling flask labelled with a sticker (i dont mind a marker if you would prefer) to mix together phosphorous, cobalt and tin with a blue pill and bath water?

double trouble (cl16)

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

phosphorus "you know, i could always get you off here right now" + cobalt "please..." "you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want" + tin "i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that” & blue pill sub!reader + bath water size kink

warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, public sex (or sex in a public location aka the bathroom), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), size kink, bratty!reader, very little plot

wc: 1865

a/n: first request ever! hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to send me more requests :)

[masterlist] [requests]

the quiet jazz in the restaurant was of little comfort to charles tonight. 

usually, he was excited at the prospect of a double date with you, max and max’s girlfriend, eager to be able to catch up properly with his friend and their lives outside of racing (albeit max’s still very racing dominated off time)

however tonight you were being a fucking brat.

you had been teasing him all day, from your grocery shop this morning where you “accidentally” backed into him, rubbing your ass against his bulge, or when you went to take leo on for a walk, and you accidentally bent down too far while scoping up leo’s poop, showing charles your gorgeous lace panties under your skirt, or even just before the date, when you walked into the bedroom, stark naked except your heels, and then cheekily asked if you looked good and then shutting the door so you could change in “peace”

charles was hard, horny and desperate to get his hands on your hips.

so when you started your teasing again, charles knew he had to do something about it.

it being the fact that your hand was trailing up his thigh, your manicure tickling the skin near his bulge, before you pressed a firm two fingers into his bulge and rubbed it.

“merde,” charles groaned quietly, leaning back into the plush booth couch and very grateful that the jazz trio had started their music once again, so that his exclamation remained unknown to max and his girlfriend. 

“mmm cherie, please move your fingers away,” charles muttered, trying to grab your wrist, but you giggled, before moving you fingers instead towards his belt, and toying with the buckle.

"you know, i could always get you off here right now,” he bit his lip, watching as you slowly pulling his dress shirt out, revealing his gorgeous waist and lightly defined abs which you loved.

“you say otherwise but you love this, don’t you…imagine me giving you a handjob while our friends are just sitting across from us,” you teased, and charles almost growled aloud at your teasing words, and now he was done with you.

snatching your wrist away from his bulge, pinning them to his lap, before working his own hands beneath your dress

“yeah you would like that you slut, wouldn’t you? me at your mercy for once in your life. well too bad, cause you’re my slut, and my brat to play with tonight,” he whispered, pressing his mouth against your earlobe, before tapping his fingers against your soiled panties

you whimpered softly as charles' words sent shivers down your spine, the touch of his fingers against your damp panties making you clench around nothing, "y-yes... i'm yours," you breathe out, a softness creeping into your voice against your brattiness tonight.

as charles continues to whisper dirty promises, you suddenly feel an urgent need to escape, "wait, i really have to use the restroom," you address the group, trying to sound casual while squirming slightly in your seat and pulling charles’ fingers away.

charles raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "oh? and why's that, little girl?" he leans back, folding his arms across his chest as he watches you intently. "trying to get away from me already?"

you bite your lip, avoiding eye contact as you fidget with the hem of your skirt. max and his girlfriend exchange knowing looks, aware of the brattiness you bring to the relationship and charles’ rough hand to bring you back down to earth.

feeling flustered under their amused gazes, you quickly stand up and make your way towards the restrooms, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. once inside the stall, you take a deep breath, letting the cool air hit your flushed face. leaning against the wall, you run a shaky hand through your hair, attempting to calm your racing heart.

after a few moments, you hear the door creak open behind you. glancing over your shoulder, you spot none other than charles entering the stall, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"well, well, well... looks like my little fucktoy needs some privacy," he says, closing the door behind him and locking it. his voice is low and husky, sending a thrill straight to your core. without warning, he steps closer, his large frame crowding you against the wall.

your breath hitches as charles looms over you, his presence both intimidating and exhilarating. the smell of his cologne mixed with the musk of his skin fills your nostrils, making your head spin.

"what do you think you're doing, coming in here with me?" you manage to stammer, even as your body betrays you, pressing back against the cold tile in a futile attempt to create distance from his overwhelming nature.

charles chuckles darkly, his hands finding your hips and gripping them tightly. "i could ask you the same thing, sweetheart. you're the one who insistently teased me on this little alone time."

he leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "but since we're here together, let's put that pretty pussy of yours to good use, hmm?"

“please…” you whimpered pathetically, watching in a haze of arousal as charles rips your delicate panties to shreds, the torn fabric fluttering to the floor. your cheeks burn with shame and desire as he teases your sensitive clit with a single finger, circling the swollen bud with maddening slowness.

"you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want," he growls, tracing his fingers maddeningly close and smirks when you attempt to push yourself down onto him.

"i-i want... i want you to fuck me," you admit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "please, charles... use me. make me yours..."

his dark chuckle vibrates against your skin as he presses harder against your clit, coaxing out more of your needy whimpers, "that's more like it, baby girl. now, let's see if you can handle something a bit bigger than just my fingers, shall we?"

"i-i want... i want you to fuck me," you admit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "please, charles... use me. make me yours..."

his dark chuckle vibrates against your skin as he presses harder against your clit, coaxing out more of your needy whimpers, "that's more like it, baby girl. now, let's see if you can handle something a bit bigger than just my fingers, shall we?"

gasping sharply, you nod eagerly, craving the sensation of being stretched wide by charles's girthy cock. the thought sends a jolt of liquid heat pooling between your thighs. "yes, please... i need it," you plead, spreading your legs further apart in invitation. "fill me up, charles,"

with a wicked grin, he frees his impressive erection from his pants, the thick shaft bobbing menacingly as he lines it up with your entrance. "brace yourself, darling," he warns, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

then, with a powerful thrust, he sheathes himself fully inside you, the sheer size of him forcing a strangled cry from your throat. you cling to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he begins to move, each deep stroke dragging you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

you cry out loudly as charles plunges deeper, the stretch of his massive cock tearing a raw moan from your throat. each brutal thrust hits a spot within you that sets off sparks of electric pleasure, making your toes curl and your back arch involuntarily. you attempt to clasp a hand over your mouth, trying to curb the wanton noises escaping between your lips, but charles has none off that.

"i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that," charles purrs, his lips brushing against your ear as he pounds into you relentlessly. "let me hear how much you love taking my big dick,"

despite your best efforts to keep quiet, your quickly body betrays you, moans spilling past your lips with every merciless stroke. the shame only adds to your arousal, your inner walls clenching tighter around charles's throbbing length as he fucks you with wild abandon.

"you're so fucking tight, baby,"

wailing shamelessly as charles ravages your aching cunt, you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your veins. the obscene slap of flesh against flesh echoes through the small stall, mingling with your desperate cries and charles's guttural grunts.

"so full... oh god, charles!" you keen, fingernails raking down his muscular back hard enough to leave marks. "fuck me harder!" he obliges with a feral growl, pistoning his hips faster, driving his huge cock impossibly deeper. your vision starts to blur at the edges as the coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"gonna cum soon, aren't you?" charles rasps, nipping at your neck roughly. "go ahead, slut. cum all over my fat cock."

with a final keening wail, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, every muscle seizing up as pure ecstasy consumes you whole. your pussy spasms violently around charles's enormous shaft, milking him as you convulse helplessly in his arms.

"f-fuuuuck!" you sob brokenly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as the intense pleasure borders on pain. it feels like charles is splitting you open, reshaping your insides to fit him perfectly.

in response, he snarls savagely, burying himself to the hilt one last time before erupting deep within you. thick ropes of molten seed paint your quivering walls, marking you as his property in the most primal way possible.

shuddering through the aftershocks of your climax, you feel charles' hot release flooding your already oversensitive pussy. the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he pumps you full of cum only heightens your bliss, leaving you limp and boneless in his grasp.

as charles slowly softens inside you, he pulls out with a wet pop, his spent cock glistening with your combined fluids. you can't help but gaze up at him

"look at you," charles murmurs, tucking his softening member back into his pants. "such a good little cumslut, taking everything i give you without complaint." he smirks, adjusting his clothing with a satisfied air.

still reeling from the intense fucking with charles, you stumble out of the bathrom, blinking in the bright lights of the restaurant. to your surprise, max and his girlfriend are nowhere to be seen, the table where you ate is cleared of their presence.

a folded piece of paper catches your eye, sitting atop the now-clean tablecloth. curious, you pick it up and read the brief message scrawled across the page:

we know how much fun you guys like to have so here's dinner on us, but you owe us for next time ;)

a flush rises to your cheeks at the implication, and you quickly crumple the note, tossing it aside. just then, charles appears beside your shoulder, looking every inch the self-assured boyfriend once more.

"well, looks like our friends made themselves scarce," he remarks, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

“wanna go back home for round 2?”

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[rainbow-banana-slug]

eye strain warning

gummy 🌈🐬

[plain text: gummy 🌈rainbow emoji🐬dolphin emoji]

(^ shark emoji not blue enough)

[id: dark skinned black person with williams syndrome in decora kei fashion walk with posterior walker. person have pink hair with rainbow bangs n all sorts hair clips in hair & stickers on cheek. have many rainbow necklace include one with double yoke egg. wear blue sweater with white cloud where one sleeve is yellow horse with pink leash thing. there many pins on sweater include gummies (gummy shark, peach ring, gummy worm, gummy bear) & green crayons & others. she wear cross body green dino plushie (bag?). rainbow vertical stripe pants with rainbow n star chain. one shoe red one shoe blue. posterior walker made of different color crayons. there text around character describe her which be functionally described below. end id]

🌈🐬.

girl (complicated gender) with williams syndrome n love decora kei fashion & bright colors (she call them happy colors/excited colors)!! she has lotssss of bows n head pieces n hair clips n necklaces n bracelets n other decoration & big wardrobe with bright colored clothing! she love wear different outfits but it consistently decora kei.

she love gummy candy & named herself after them >:) blue/red gummy worm & blue gummy shark her favorites (blue gummy shark also my favorite. to look at.)

williams syndrome (also known as williams-beuren syndrome) is genetic developmental disorder micro-deletion of some of chromosome 7. for gummy, WS lead her have moderate intellectual disability (ID) & global developmental delay, level 2 autism, ADHD-c; congenital heart defects (CHD); hypotonia (low muscle tone), & loose joints.

like many people with WS, gummy very friendly & social! she love hugs & talking to people & talk lot & very physical in show affection! but also often struggle tell when other people not want be social / be social with her, be called “a lot” & “too much,” which lead her have trouble make n keep friends n make her sad—even tho WS make her extra outgoing, she also still get sad n mad n not hide it. she also struggle with danger awareness & often treat strangers like would with friend, n it been something that her support team very focused on work with her entire life because this lead her be very easily taken advantage of n be put in danger.

also like many ppl with williams syndrome, language & verbal abilities her strong suit—tho it’s relative to her moderate ID, so one shouldn’t expect she write speak communicate like average person without struggle. her words more simple, n still need many help for communication, including various form of AAC & aide person.

she has aides that pretty much 24/7 present because WS & moderate ID but working on skills so can be more independent! it something she been work very hard on entire life n she quite proud of progress.

she has many classic facial features associate with williams syndrome, like epicanthal folds at eye, upturned nose, wide mouth & small teeth, small jaw, full cheeks (badly drawn), n large ears.

70% or more people with WS have some sort cardiovascular problem, n so do gummy. she has supravalvar aortic stenosis (narrowing of aorta) which form of congenital heart defect (CHD). hers not very severe n be closely monitored.

she also have hypotonia & loose joints due to WS & uses posterior walker full time to get around. she really like her posterior walker, it shaped like many crayons :D also wear SMOs but forgot write it so oops

art fight character profile

[reblog welcome but please no repost]

[atley01]

Tips for all of my alternative & Chronically ill/ disabled friends!

A big thing that's helped me feel more comfortable accommodating my disability is finding accessibility tools that reflect my personality / interests.

I should put a disclaimer that making disability "aesthetic" should not be the most important thing about your health! I do this where I can to help me accept my disability.

Here are some alt accessibility tools I've found / made & utilized for myself!

1. If you're prone to nausea:

Anti-nausea meds work, but I also find that peppermints work just as well! I always have mints on me. At home, I've stored them in this coffin container!

I do keep a few of these mints in my bag, as well as ginger hard candies (they taste very strong, but are VERY efficient). I got the peppermints at Dollar tree, and they've genuinely been a life saver.

Alternatively, I've found this adorable ouija board altoids container that has mints in it!

The mints are even fun-shaped! I also saw other horror-movie themed altoid containers in-store as well. Since they're tiny, they dont work well for severe nausea, but they are still helpful!

2. If you struggle with temperature-regulation:

For me, my hands and feet are always FREEZING, but my core will be super warm. What has helped me a lot has been gloves and fuzzy socks!

I have a lot of spooky gloves like this, but I prefer the fingerless ones because I can still use my phone and be warm at the same time! I've also heard my friends who are wheelchair users say gloves can help protect your hands if you use a manual wheelchair. Another added bonus is that certain gloves can help limit mobility for those of you who struggle with hypermobility in your hands.

3. Do you have noise-canceling headphones? Decorate them!

I decorated my N/C headphones in shark stickers because sharks are my special interest!

These are Soundcore Life Q30's. I have gotten compliments on the stickers many times! You could put halloween stickers on yours or decorate your headphones in other ways! I've seen people crochet horns onto the headband portion of their headphones.

4. I would recommend any chronically ill person carry a cup around to stay hydrated:

ESPECIALLY If you need electrolytes. You can either have a drink like propel or powerade in your cup (or any drink of your choice, and you could put electrolyte packets in there).

This specific cup isn't the best at keeping my drink cold, but it holds a decent amount of liquid! And it's spooky. If you're someone who struggles to drink enough water, I've found that getting a fun cup helps me a lot!

5. Make communication bracelets!

If I'm having a difficult time voicing my needs, or I'm in a verbal shutdown, these bracelets can come in handy for me.

I'll either wear them on my wrist when needed or present them to my friends so they can read the bracelet and understand what I need. I keep them on a keychain that way I dont lose them and can transport them easily. An example of some of the phrases I've turned into bracelets is; "No spoons," "spoon debt," "verbal shutdown," and "flashbacks," (for when I'm having a PTSD episode.) You could make a bracelet with the medical condition you have as a DIY medical-alert bracelet. I added tiny spoon charms to some of my bracelets because I thought it was funny.

5. Mobility aids!

Decorate your mobility aids with things like stickers, kandi, lights, etc! Pinterest, instagram, and tiktok have a lot of good ideas. You can easily customize your mobility aids to look spooky or look however you want them to!

6. Bags!

I know that for me, I NEED to carry a bag around whenever I go out because it has important medical items that I need, but it also keeps all my important items like keys, id, ect, in one spot so that I dont forget / lose them. SOME spooky bags are expensive, but you could find a plain black bag at a thrift store or walmart and accessorize it with patches, keychains, and pins! I've seen people paint designs onto their bags before as well.

• You dont have to spend a lot of money on your accessibility tools!

Find ways to DIY them, or get them secondhand! You could even try working with household items you already have! A lot of these items, or items very similar to it, can be found at the dollar tree - even the materials needed to make the beaded bracelets! (Outside of the spoon charms)

Thats all!

If I think of more, you'll see me again! Be spooky, and be kind to yourself!

[dokries]

pretty little princess

pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 448

warnings: jeonghan being referred to as a princess but as a silly nickname, not anything serious

author note: another repost (this was written last year right before he got his hair cut, and now it’s long again)! lots of love <3

masterlist

“life isn’t fair.” you mutter, playing with the pink pipe cleaner in your hands.

jeonghan bends his head all the way back to stare up at you, nestled in his spot on the carpet in front of you with a questioning gaze. “i agree with your philosophical words but that was random, even for you sweetheart.”

“it’s just not fair. how can you be so pretty?” you say, glaring at his stupidly beautiful face before moving your gaze downwards to focus on wrapping the glittery craft material in your hands around your middle finger, and then around your ring finger before twisting it at the bottom to create something vaguely bow-like.

you look up from your craftsmanship to see jeonghan still in the same position except his eyes as wide as saucers and his jaw slack, the phone once in his hands, completely forgotten in his lap at your words.

jeonghan knows he’s pretty. he’s been told by random kids on the street, old couples out on walks, heck even his friends tell him he’s pretty often. however, you hadn’t called him pretty until this evening, when he let you do what you wished with his long hair before he went to get it cut the next day. (something you’re still upset about; you love his silky hair, but you understand why he wants it cut.)

“you…” he gulps, trying to hide his huge grin. “you think i’m pretty?”

you look down at him from your spot on the couch. your eyes roam across his face: his eyes that radiate starlight, the tiny grin he was fighting back, the two pipe cleaner bows you had pinned onto his hair already, and the gem stickers that you had put on his cheeks with a giggle earlier.

“of course hannie! you’re my pretty pink little princess,” you whisper with a giggle, booping his nose when he smiles back.

“oh? if i’m really your pretty pink little princess, then you’ll let me put pipe cleaner bows on your head, right?” he says, his eyes twinkling with the note of mischievousness you’ve grown fond of as he pulls your arm down to sit beside him, moving to make space for you.

you let out an exasperated sigh for show before taking the pink bow you had made and gesturing for him to turn his head to the side so you could pin it onto the side of his bangs.

when you’re satisfied with your work, you pat his head with a grin. “well, if my pretty little princess commands it…”

“i do,” he says immediately, his mouth curling into a slight smirk. “get ready for the best makeover of your life, honey.”

[goodomenshq]

📚The Good Omens graphic novel Kickstarter mega post 📚

As we enter the last hours of the Good Omens graphic novel Kickstarter, here’s a recap of ALL the items you can get and how to get them. We’ll also answer some of the main questions you’ve had.

Get yours here!

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TIERS

THE HUMAN TIER (£25 GBP) includes one copy of the Good Omens graphic novel. All of the stretch goal embellishments (foiling, ribbon, foreword, afterword, extra pages, etc) cover every level (including early bird). Every backer also gets a bookmark. This also includes the foreword and afterword by Michael Sheen, David Tennant, and Jon Hamm.

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THE SERPENT TIER (£40 GBP) includes one copy of the Good Omens graphic novel, a dust jacket* featuring an alt cover by Frank Quitely and Loot Pack #1*, which is full of goodies. *Stretch goals have added to these items, full info below.

The alt cover dust jacket is now reversible, with the other side featuring this by Rachael Stott in b&w.

✔️Serpent gets the dust jacket for your graphic novel.

✖ It does not have a print of this image. The colour version is available as an add on.

Loot Pack #1 originally featured 2 x Colleen Doran prints (including a brand new piece), a postcard and bookmark. Fans have unlocked additional Colleen prints, some colouring pages, as well as *many* prints from other artists… You have unlocked prints from Rachael Stott (different to the alt cover image), Sarah Graley, David Aja, Mark Buckingham, Tanya Roberts, Paul Kidby, Alice Oseman and Anna Morozova, as well as the Frank Quitely cover as a print.

We’ve been asked a lot about Alice Oseman's prints, so to clarify: if you back the Serpent Tier or above, you will get Alice's print featuring Aziraphale, as well as the newly commissioned Crowley to complete the pair.

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THE HELLHOUND TIER (£120 GBP) includes the prior tiers + Loot Pack #2, ft. Crowley and Aziraphale enamel pins, stickers, and a pack of the Good Omens trading cards. These will be playable. Tier backers can also get rare cards in their order at random.

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THE WITCHFINDER TIER (£200 GBP) has all of this, plus an exquisite map by Julien Labit. Dimensions will be approximately 594 x 841 mm.

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THE DEMON TIER (£320 GBP) is a creative punch from head to toe, with five additional enamel pins (including Dog), some snazzy socks, and two creator themed notebooks, one for your inner Pratchett, the other for your inner Gaiman.

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THE HORSEMEN TIER (£500 GBP) is the Demon Tier + A3 Giclee print from the graphic novel, signed by Colleen Doran, plus the exclusive Beelzebub enamel pin, and Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett collector's enamel pin set.

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THE OBSIDIAN TIER (£3k) builds on the Horsemen Tier with copies of the new, limited Obsidian editions (GO illustrated edition, graphic novel & William the Antichrist), signed by Neil Gaiman & artists, and a one-of-a-kind trading card by Colleen Doran.

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For booksellers, we have two options: The Small Bookshop Tier (10 copies) and The Bookshop Tier (20 copies), both of which offer a 50% trade discount. There are also add ons of 10 and 20 copies for shops looking to order more.

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ADD ONS

The campaign itself ends at 11.59pm UK time on 31 August, so there’s still time to get your pledges in. Let’s move onto the add ons via Kickstarter...

How do you add more to your pledge? This link on Kickstarter should help. You effectively re-select the tier you’ve chosen, and then it will take you to the add on section. This works even if your tier is sold out, or was time sensitive (Nightingale).

Unlike tiers, you are not limited to one choice with add ons. You can get additional copies of the graphic novel, mugs, slipcases, the graphic novel oversized edition, and more. Rachael Stott's Eternal Encounter print is available also.

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A.Z. FELL & CO ADD ONS. Includes: Bookmark, mug, socks, tote bag. The bookmark is different / higher end than those included with every copy of the graphic novel.

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TRADING CARDS. You can get a trading card booster pack. These will have at least six cards. The Hellhound Tier is where to get the larger, playable base pack. Base packs will be available down the road via the new merch store, but cheapest via the Kickstarter.

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ENAMEL PIN ADD ONS We have two pairs of Aziraphale and Crowley pins (£10 per set). We also have mystery packs of three available (£12). You can see the full pin information and designs so far at http://goodomenshq.com.

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While pins #005 onwards will be part of the mystery packs, they may pop up at events or in flash sales of specific items. We will give fans as much notice as possible when these exciting events will happen.

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BOOKSHOP ADD ONS. Bookshops who have backed either of the retail tiers will be able to add packs of 10 or 20 additional books onto their pledge. These tiers must be delivered to a bookshop address. These are also at 50% trade discount.

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OBSIDIAN ADD ONS. While the Obsidian Tier collects all three books, you can add the Obsidian Edition of the Good Omens illustrated edition, the Good Omens graphic novel, or William the Antichrist - signed by Neil - to pledges at any level.

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Add ons are available for every tier level. Add ons will also be available after the Kickstarter, however will be cheapest via the campaign. We know a lot of people have been asking, so if 31 August is too short notice, worry not!

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FAQ

Q: Will the graphic novel be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. It will be available via PledgeManager, and subsequently on goodomenshq.com when that becomes the wider merch store.

Q: Will tiers be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. Some will be available for an additional time on PledgeManager to allow those who couldn’t access the Kickstarter for a variety of reasons. This will go live at some point after the project finishes.

Q: Will the add ons be available after the Kickstarter finishes? A: Yes. Though Kickstarter will be the cheapest way to get the add ons, these will be made more widely available at a slight price increase after the campaign ends.

Q: I couldn’t back the Kickstarter due to payment issues. Can I use Paypal / other methods? A: We believe PledgeManager will be able to integrate the wider payment methods, including Paypal, for those who couldn’t back with a card. This is TBC. Longer term, this will be an option on goodomenshq.com when it opens as the official merch store.

Q: Shipping is charged after. Why do we not have the final numbers yet? A: We’ve been working across the campaign to bring estimates down further; the page will have new numbers as we have them pre-31 Aug, however we will be working over the coming months to get the best price for backers worldwide once the weights are locked in. Our goal is to get the best value for supporters and not overcharge by locking in this early.

Q: If it will all be available later, what difference is there in backing the Kickstarter? A: All backers get an individual discount code for the Good Omens HQ merch store when it opens in the future, so you can get money off further items. We’ve got some fun things that we’re planning to do via backer updates post-campaign too. More on that… later. You’ll still get plenty of ineffable joy either way though!

Q: Is there anywhere I can sign up for updates? A: Yes! Good Omens HQ will have a mailing list. You can sign up here.

Get yours here!

[lumberrobot]

Digital Echoes

danielle marsh | mo jihye x fem!reader

notes: took a break from writing hwhdohaow; italicized sections are flashbacks; I miss coding :'((

warning/s: none (except for the breakup probs)

genre: angst?, fluff

The soft, rhythmic patter of rain against the window filled the silence of Danielle’s apartment. The dim light filtered through the raindrops, casting a muted glow over the room and highlighting the emptiness that seemed to envelop her tonight. Photos of Danielle's friends and family adorned a small bulletin board above her desk, snapshots of happier days pinned alongside her carefully organized planner, each tab and colorful note marking her meticulous schedule. A faint scent of coffee lingered, a reminder of lazy mornings and slow conversations she once shared here.

There, pinned to the board and encircled with a red marker and tiny heart stickers, was the date: Our Anniversary!!! Danielle's chest tightened just looking at it. She ignored her phone’s occasional chime, each one an unread message of concern from her friends. Minji had even offered to come by, with promises of warm food and distracting laughter, but Danielle had declined. She felt suspended in a quiet kind of ache, unwilling to break the solitude by letting anyone in tonight. Everyone close to them knew what this day meant. Even her family, blissfully unaware of the months-old breakup, had sent cheerful anniversary wishes.

Her gaze drifted over the room, drawn to the small remnants of Y/N’s presence still scattered around—like memories made tangible. A hoodie Y/N always wore draped over the back of the couch, her favorite mug perched on the kitchen counter, and a stack of novels piled beside the bed. Danielle had tried packing these things away more than once, but every attempt left her feeling hollow, the ache too sharp to ignore. So instead, she let them stay—a bittersweet comfort, grounding her in a past that felt both vivid and painfully distant.

Danielle tried to push down the memories as she pulled her focus back to work, her fingers tapping rhythmically on her laptop keyboard. Yet her concentration wavered, her heart pounding in her chest as she sat under the weight of the date. And that’s when it appeared: a notification in the corner of her screen, breaking through her thoughts with a small chime.

She hesitated, the familiar dread settling in her stomach. What if it was something she didn't want to see? But curiosity pushed her to open it anyway.

"Important Day Alert!"

A shiver ran down her spine, the dread settling heavy in her stomach. She hadn’t seen that reminder in ages.

Danielle’s breath hitched, a knot tightening in her stomach. She knew instantly where the reminder came from, and she was hesitant to face it. What if it was something she didn't want to see? What if Y/N had moved on and left it untouched? Still, something within her urged her to open it.

======

The website had been their secret treasure—a labor of love, built as a testament to their bond. Years ago, Y/N had painstakingly taught herself to code just to confess through that first simple landing page. Over time, it became a ritual for them: every year on their anniversary, Y/N would update the site, adding new memories and little surprises—nostalgic photos, shared playlists, or heartfelt messages to Danielle. Each addition was a love letter, private and sincere.

It was a tradition between them. Every year on their anniversary, Y/N would update the site with something new—a surprise game, a video montage of memories, or a heartfelt message. And every year, Danielle would eagerly log on, grinning ear-to-ear as she clicked through the carefully designed pages.

But this year was different.

They weren’t together anymore. The breakup had been painful—quiet, but brutal in its own way. It had been months now since they last spoke, and Danielle had done everything she could to keep moving forward, even when it hurt.

======

Danielle had just finished a long day of meetings when she stumbled into the tiny coffee shop near her apartment. She wasn’t expecting much—just a quick caffeine fix to get her through the evening—but that’s when she saw Y/N sitting by the window, typing furiously on a laptop.

Danielle’s breath caught. She didn’t know why, but something about Y/N’s focused expression drew her in. When she approached the counter, she kept sneaking glances at Y/N, trying to figure out what they were working on so intensely.

It was pure chance that Y/N looked up at the exact same moment.

“Oh, uh, hey Dani,” Y/N exclaims, quite startled looking with her cheeks flushed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Danielle stammered, feeling her cheeks flush. “You just look... really into whatever you're doing.”

Y/N smiled, rubbing the back of their neck sheepishly. “Yeah, just working on something for uh, someone... well, a girl I like, but I’m working on it.”

Danielle’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Really? That sounds interesting.”

Y/N leaned in slightly, lowering their voice as if sharing a secret. “It’s something to show her how much I care, you know?”

Danielle’s heart warmed at the thought. “She’s lucky, whoever she is.”

Y/N met her gaze, their eyes full of hope. “I hope she thinks so.”

======

Tonight, as Danielle sat alone in her apartment, her fingers itched to open the notification. With a heavy heart, she clicked on it.

As the website loaded, Danielle’s heart raced. She had prepared herself for an empty page, some silent confirmation that Y/N had moved on, even if Danielle hadn’t. But instead, the familiar pastel colors greeted her, unchanged since the last time she’d visited. The homepage looked the same, simple yet elegant, with Y/N’s signature drawn hearts and soft text.

But her eyes quickly caught something new—a large, bold message that hadn’t been there before.

"Happy Anniversary, Dani."

The words seemed to pulse against the screen, pulling her back into the warmth of Y/N’s world. Beneath the message was a carousel of photos—frozen snapshots of a love that once was. There was a picture of Danielle making a goofy face, another of her holding a stuffed koala with the caption: Our son, Jerry (p.s. - obviously, Dani named him). Danielle couldn’t help but smile, the ache in her heart blending with a strange, fragile warmth.

The lump in Danielle’s throat grew. She clicked into the different sections of the website, her heart pounding with each click. The familiar categories were still there: Our Memories, Our Songs, Our Adventures. Each one bursting with photos, videos, and shared experiences—images of their first trip to the beach, goofy selfies from late-night movie marathons, that time they’d gone to a random hole-in-the-wall restaurant on a whim and discovered their favorite dish.

But now, there was something more. Scattered throughout the site were handwritten notes—new ones, messages that weren’t there before.

"I thought I could move on, but I keep coming back here."

"I built this for you, but it’s where I still find us."

"If you’re reading this, then maybe you haven’t let go either."

The last words hit her hardest. Danielle swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that blurred her vision. Each message felt like a thread, connecting her to Y/N in a way she couldn’t ignore.

She remembered the last time she saw Y/N, during that fateful evening when everything came undone. They had met in a small park after weeks of missed calls and messages that went unanswered as work swallowed them both. Danielle had tried so hard to be there, but her career demanded late nights, last-minute trips, and weekend meetings. And for Y/N, her schedule was just as unforgiving.

Their laughter had faded, replaced by quick goodbyes and rescheduled plans, each a small tear in the fabric of their relationship. And that night in the park, it had all come to a head.

"Maybe… maybe we’re just too busy,” Danielle had whispered, her voice trembling. "I don’t know how to make time for us anymore, Y/N."

Danielle remembered the heartbreak in Y/N’s eyes as she heard the words. She had wanted to take the words she said back, to promise that they’d try harder, that they could somehow fit their love into the small corners of their lives. But deep down, Danielle knew they were both exhausted, stretched so thin that even their love couldn’t seem to fill the spaces left by absence.

In the end, she simply nodded, unable to find the words to change Danielle’s mind. And as they parted that night, Danielle felt the weight of the silence that had settled between them, a silence that lingered, unbroken, until now.

She opened her eyes, blinking back tears as she scrolled to the final message Y/N had left on the site:

"I’ll wait as long as it takes."

Danielle’s chest tightened. Her gaze drifted to the contact form at the bottom of the page, the blinking cursor an invitation, a chance she wasn’t sure she could take. Her fingers hovered over the keys, doubt creeping in. What if Y/N had written those words in a moment of weakness, but didn’t mean them anymore? What if reaching out would only reopen old wounds?

But the memory of Y/N’s smile, her touch, the feeling of her hand in Danielle’s—these were the things Danielle held onto, the reminders of a love that had never truly left her.

With a shaky breath, she typed the words that had been on her heart for months, words she wished she had said that night in the park:

"I'm still here, too."

======

One crisp autumn afternoon, Y/N handed Danielle a small slip of paper, looking down as she did. "I, uh… made something for you," Y/N said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Danielle tilted her head, amused. "A mystery link? You’ve been acting so secretive about this!” She took out her phone, her curiosity piqued, and entered the address.

As the page loaded, a quiet melody began to play—a song she’d once mentioned in passing. A pixelated image of a familiar park bench came into view, set under a soft twilight sky filling with tiny stars. Two animated figures appeared on the bench, one for each of them, sitting side by side. Danielle’s expression softened, captivated.

Slowly, words began to type out on the screen, one by one.

"Danielle, I like you."

Danielle’s breath caught as the words continued.

"I didn’t know how to put this into words… so I made this instead. You’ve brought so much light and joy into my life—moments I didn’t know I’d ever have."

She blinked, the message blurring slightly as her eyes misted. Turning to Y/N, who was watching her with a hopeful look, Danielle felt her chest tighten with something warm and steady.

“So… yeah,” Y/N smiled, her cheeks a little pink. “I like you, Dani. And… I was kind of hoping maybe you feel the same.”

Danielle managed a small laugh, shaking her head as she wiped away a stray tear. She took Y/N’s hand, her own words barely a murmur. “Yeah… I do. I really do.”

======

The silence that followed was deafening. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Danielle wasn’t sure if Y/N would respond—wasn’t sure if this was still real, or if it was all just a one-sided hope she had been holding onto. She chewed nervously at her lip, staring at the empty screen.

Then, her laptop pinged. A notification appeared.

Y/N had replied.

With shaky hands, Danielle opened the message. A soft smile broke across her face, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"I knew you’d come back."