#swatchton kid

[petra-creat0r]

eheheh

Swatchton kids redesigns

Gradiant and Buckette are very much opposites.

[monofazz]

Forgot to post to main 🩷🧡

[ne0nwithazero]

Big sister Clippa and Little Brother Speckle 💜💙💛

[toondisneyartz]

Merry Christmas from the Underground

Well, since it is Christmas today, I decided to make a piece where some of the Undertale/Deltarune characters have a warm get-together. 

Bonus drawing:

Alphys, Annoying dog, Kris Dreemurr, Mettaton, Monster Kid, Muffet, Napstablook, Noelle Holiday, Papyrus, Ralsei, Sans, Spamton, Susie, Swatch, Toriel, and Undyne are all owned by Toby Fox Made using Procreate

[eldritchcharles]

I love Swatchton and I have a fanchild for the ship but i swear they'd be horrible parents.

Spamton for obvious reasons (dude is batshit crazy and would try and drag his kid into his shenanigans) Swatch though? On the surface they'd seem like a good parent but you can't convince me they wouldn't be both overprotective AND neglectful. They will hide all the harsh truths to 'protect' their kid and when bad things do happen they'll just take out their metaphorical rose-tinted glasses and refuse to acknowledge the deeper issues.

I love them so much but don't let them have kids.

[reginalusus]

hii umm twoface and maybe even spamton?? for tha list thingy you reblogged a while ago 😇 hi

Tumblr seriously need to make an option to group asks or something (maybe they have and I just missed it). Anyway, I'm just gonna put it all in the one post!

Spamton - Favourite thing: Literally how good of a concept he is. A malware/virus/spam email personified into a sleazy, villainous salesman with a vocal tic? I adore that. Also he’s relatable. - Least favourite thing: IDK if this question has to actually relate to the canon-ness of the character. There’s nothing about him I particularly dislike? I can’t think of anything in terms of canon. I can certainly think of things outside of canon but I’m not counting that. - Favourite line: He has so many, ughhhh, but I always quote: “KID! I’M BUSY BECOMING [God]. GO PLAY [Minecrap] OR SOMETHING!” - BroTP: Spamton and Crypton/Blue Addison. - OTP: I honestly don’t really ship him with anyone but I do enjoy Swatchton sometimes. - NoTP: Spamton and Kris. Fucking stop. - Random headcanon: So fucking many but the first that comes to mind is that he shivers/gets panicky when he hears a phone ring due to his PTSD. - Unpopular opinion: Again, IDK if this has to relate to the canon-ness, but I’m just going to stick with that, so… I don’t think he’s as absurdly short as most people depict him as. - Song I associate him with: The obvious fucking answer is BIG SHOT, but I’m not counting that since it’s his canon theme. I’ve really gotta go with Welcome to the Internet by Bo Burnham. It’s chaotic and fast and literally sounds like a huge salesman's pitch for the internet. It suits him uncannily well. - Favourite picture: Again, does this have to be canon? Gonna go with this one:

Lips! Kissing!

Two-Face/Harvey Dent -Favourite thing: How the fuck am I supposed to pick one thing- ok, fine, again, like Spamton, it’s the concept of him. An ex-lawyer who is split between serving justice the genuine way (the way he had always intended) or in the most extreme, horrifying way (the way he had always intended to stop) and acting as a foil to the hero who also has two personas. That’s a watered down version. Also he’s relatable. - Least favourite thing: Again, I can’t think of anything. I guess his whole thing with Renee was shitty. I do enjoy that story but, like, Harvey, don’t do that! - Favourite line: This man has many good lines, how can I pick- ok, the one that I think about a lot is: “We know the truth. You aren’t Bruce Wayne. Jim Gordon and I, we didn’t strike a deal with Bruce Wayne. And it sure as hell’s not Bruce Wayne waiting on the rooftops each night. This is who you are. See, we get it, Bruce. It’s not the face you’re given. It’s the face you choose.” - BroTP: Harvey and Jason. Though I view it more as an uncle/nephew thing rather than mere friends. - OTP: Again, like Spamton, I don’t necessarily ship him with anyone but I am an enjoyer of TwoBats/BruHarvey. - NoTP: Harvey with any of the (former) Robins. I have seen this and don't like it. Thankfully it really isn't common or popular. - Random headcanon: I have so manyyyyyyy, but one is that both Harvey and Two-Face MUST have everything in their living space EXACTLY how they want it. If anyone so much as moves something, scratches something, puts something somewhere else, they will know and they will go mental. - Unpopular opinion: I surprisingly think I have a few unpopular takes on him, I think, but… I guess it isn’t unpopular to say that Harvey’s boss fight in Arkham Knight was stupid and disappointing. However, it may be unpopular to say that this MF should NOT be easy to take down. He is a tough bastard, IDGAF. - Song I associate with him: Fuck, quite a few, but I’m gonna go with Psycho by Muse. If you interpret the lyrics as Two-Face speaking to Harvey, it becomes a song that is uncannily perfect about how his DID takes over him. - Favourite picture: HOW TF AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK ONE- Fine, I fucking love this one:

It’s been my Discord banner for ages. Look at him. Only a depressed fucking mess sleeps like that. Absolute husband material.

Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane - Favourite thing: Literally how he gives off strong cringefail loser vibes but has the means to psychologically ruin you for life. His 'power' is literally my worst nightmare. I'd really not spend longer in my head than I have to, thanks, Jon. - Least favourite thing: TBH I haven't read/consumed enough Scarecrow stories to pick something, so I can't really answer. - Favourite line: "And at the end of fear, oblivion!" - There's something quite harrowing about this. - BroTP: Again, I haven't consumed enough Scarecrow media to give a true answer to these sort of questions. I do like the idea of Harley and Jon being friends though. They were both Arkham doctors and basically became the patients they'd evaluate. They'd have lit convos. - OTP: AGAIN, I'm not the biggest shipper. I don't actually know if I'd ship Jon with anyone? I do enjoy some ScRiddler art. - NoTP: Hmmm... again, not enough info. Scarecrow fans, feel free to let me know which ships you hate. - Random headcanon: He hates horror movies. He thinks the vast majority are wasted potential and can't stand shitty slasher stuff. Perhaps he even wants to write a horror movie. - Unpopular opinion: I don't know if this is not all that unpopular, but... I actually really like Arkham Knight Scarecrow. His design is neat, I love his fucking syringe hands, his voice is so soothing and calm which is a good juxtaposition to his character. I enjoy him. - Song I associate with him: IDK why but Spooky Scary Skeletons by Andrew Gold, help- not that it suits him, but I feel like it would be a guilty pleasure of his. - Favourite picture: It's gotta be this one:

I just fucking love how silly he looks here, the big goofball. /pos

[tvlandofficiall]

Do you partake in any shipping in deltarune? Also commentary on Kris and Ralsei.

Back in chapter one it felt more cutesey but because of all the Player stuff going on it feels much less chill now.

not a fan of krisei – ralsei's similarities to kris' brother make it uncomfortable for me, the amount of power us&kris have over him right now makes it uncomfortable for me, and i headcanon both of them as aromantic. in general i don't really like nor care about any of the ships between the kids besides suselle. teen romance tends not to be my thing.

im more partial to the darkner divorce crew myself. swatchton and seavil are my two big ones, but i also like swatch queen and spamton as a trio, spamqueen, swatchseam, queenseam, and one-sided queenkaard, among some others. on the lightner side of things i also enjoy dessbratty and papymayor; and undertaleways i like papyton and mayoriel (mayor holiday and toriel).

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 40

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [Spamager], GiGi/Leroux [QueenKaard]

Characters: Spamton Addison, Swatch Paletta, T.M. Tinker, GiGi McCray, Leroux Kaard, Lance O'Toole, Kirov Rouvin, Umar Benton, Detective Dynah Unwin, Detective "Blooky" Knapp

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Interface Screw - Afternoon Into Night, Part One

Chapter summary: "Some dance to remember, some dance to forget." Isn't that how the song goes?

Our dancers and their loved ones have a lot to go through before this day is over.

Author notes:

SIGNIFICANT contributions towards plot and dialogue made by beta-reader @jaimistoryteller Read their stuff!

Some Hometown folks making their first appearance in this fic. Wave hello to Undyne and Napstablook, everyone!

Content warnings are the same as have been for the last few chapters [stalkerish behavior, implied harm/danger to a child]. We're in murky waters here despite the brightness of the day.

===================

9:47PM, April 9th

"Hey, Dynah?"

"Yeah, Blooky?" 

“Why were we given this assignment, anyway?” Detective Knapp grumbled. “We aren't the Health Department."

"Because Chief Flowers asked us to. He gets a little… dogged… when we get any kind of investigation having to do with a college. Since his oldest kid… you know.” Detective Unwin momentarily took one hand off the steering wheel to make a vague wave in the air.

One could almost hear the puzzle pieces snapping into place in Knapp’s mind. "Yeah,” they sighed, understanding clear in their eyes as Unwin snuck a quick look at them. “That makes sense. What's he expecting us to find here?"

"Eh,” Unwin shrugged, returning her attention to the road and marking off the mileage until the expected time of arrival at the hospital. “Could be anything. Petty stuff would be that somebody was selling food without a license. Let's hope we don't need to get into serious stuff."

"Cheers to that," said Knapp. "Anyway, it gets us out of the office."

Unwin showed all her sharp teeth to her patrol partner as she replied, "Let's hope for no incidents and no paperwork."

2:30AM, April 10th

There ended up being a LOT of paperwork.

12:30PM, April 9th

Kirov leaned against the empty table as he glanced at the time again, his foot tapped rapidly against the ground. Half-past noon. Umar Benton should have been here already with their supplies. They should have been all set up ages ago. 

The longer he had to think about his encounter with Stanton a few hours ago, the more time he had to doubt himself. Even up to last night… no, even when he had woken up this morning… he’d had a plan, a goal. 

But was it the right thing to do? 

He had been so certain that the three of them… Stanton, the bartender, and the blonde… had been taunting him that night at Plato’s. That they looked down on him. 

And when he’d gone over to listen to the music a little while ago, to kill time while waiting for his tardy roommate, the songs seemed to mock him. 

Yet with how kind Stanton was at all other times.. maybe Kirov had been mistaken? 

He hated second-guessing himself. It made him feel like his brain was full of bees. 

Huffing, he finally caught sight of Umar and waved at him to draw his attention. 

His stocky roommate was pulling a wagon behind him loaded up with everything for the table. A cooler full of ice, a plastic punchbowl, some smaller bowls where people could drop their monetary donations, a ladle, disposable cups, thirty-six half-pint mason jars thankfully wrapped with brown paper to keep them from breaking against each other, and a large box with a dozen two-liter bottles of kvass with corrugated dividers holding the bottles steady . 

At least none of the jars are broken , he thought as he straightened up and pasted a fake smile on his face. For that, he could be grateful, even if he was frustrated from having to wait so long. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Umar panted, wiping the sweat and drizzle from his brown forehead with an even browner hand.

“Not to worry, friend,” Kirov replied, mentally gritting his teeth. “We still have plenty of time!”

He propped a sign that read KVASS AND KOMPOT FOR UKRAINE against the front-side of the punchbowl. Then he set up the cups and wrote the word “donations” in curly print on the donation bowls, for all to see. 

Beside him, Umar carefully set a few of the jars on the table, closer to the middle, so there was little risk of them getting knocked over and broken. At Kirov’s direction, he put some of the kvass bottles on ice in the cooler and rolled the wagon behind the table to be out of the way.

The vendor in the booth across from them glanced between the overcast sky and their table. Squinting, the vendor took notice of their sign and commented, “Yes, take your time. Ain’t like it’s better spent.” 

Kirov bit back a sigh as he also looked at the sky that was threatening rain again. Today wasn’t going how he wanted. Hopefully that wasn’t a sign he needed to pay attention to. 

He wanted to be as sure now as he’d been last night.  He hated this feeling of uncertainty.

The first two jars of kompot were poured into the punchbowl. Kirov tried to keep smiling, but it was getting more difficult by the minute.

1:10PM, April 9th

As the three of them finished lunch, Spamton knew that he hadn’t fooled Swatch.

His beautiful, clever lover had watched him don The Suit this morning, with no more reaction than a raised eyebrow. Spamton had almost hoped that Swatch would ask him why he was wearing it today.

He was wearing it to expiate his sins. As a way to atone. 

Instead of bilking people out of money for a smart home system that didn’t work, targeting the elderly for something they didn’t need and couldn’t afford, he was raising money to help people escape from horrors.

He needed to be able to look at The Suit and not think of Mike. To create new memories tied to it. Positive ones. Hopeful ones. 

He needed to channel whatever positive energy there had EVER been in being a Big Shot, and use that energy to get people to feel like they could actually make a difference in the world.

Which is why, when he had run into Kirov Rouvin at the coffee stall in the morning, he had felt compelled to return the younger man’s cheerful greeting and to praise him when he heard that Kirov had a vendor booth at the Festival. It had been good to see Kirov finding a purpose, a cause to get behind. Perhaps even help him find his place in life.

If Trez had been with him then, Spamton didn’t doubt that she’d have made a not-too-subtle face when Kirov insisted on paying for the three coffees, including the one for Swatch. 

He didn’t doubt that Swatch, and Trez as well for that matter, were right to be suspicious. He had surprised himself by going on the offensive with his song selections when he had noticed Kirov hovering at the edges of the dance floor earlier.

Hopefully the message had been taken.  He really wanted to just enjoy today, and tonight, with his lovers.

But for now, he had another set of records to spin.

1:40PM, April 9th

T.M. knew exactly how she wanted to kill the next couple of hours, and had no trouble convincing Swatch to join her. The coast was clear at her dorm suite, since Her Majesty and Mister Wormyhead were committed to the 2pm dance session. 

How many more opportunities was she going to get to just cuddle with her bestie, neither of them needing to talk?  Graduation would be upon them both in a matter of weeks.

So she set her phone alarm for 3:15pm as Swatch stretched out on her bed. She lay down and curled herself into their arms.

If some tears leaked from her eyes and soaked into the shoulder of their shirt, as she fell asleep, Swatch was too much of a gentleman to tell her.

2:01PM, April 9th

Back in his booth, Spamton was pleasantly surprised at the turnout for the Medieval, Baroque, Georgian & Regency Dance hour. He’d expected maybe ten people to show up. He did a quick head count of thirty, as Leroux did the top-of-the-hour intro. Spamton regretted that he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to borrow some kind of Shakespearean costume from the theater department, the way most of the dancers probably had. It looked like the casts of THE TUDORS and BRIDGERTON were having a “take no prisoners” dance-off.

Oh, well.  He could pretend he was a time traveler who’d gone back too far.

He kept his hands busy segueing between two different albums of Scottish jigs and reels that Eos had lent him, before switching in Handel’s Water Music and the Istanpitta recordings, to keep everyone guessing.

The group on the dance floor definitely having the most fun, though, were Leroux, GiGi, and Leroux's son Lance.  Leroux was in his element, guiding the steps of the other two through the movements, making their own little circle. Several of the other couples and groups around them were audibly cheering them on. The little boy was grinning wider and laughing harder with every new song that Spamton queued up.

Lance could have been a doppelganger of himself, a young’un who just HAD to respond to music by kicking up his heels and throwing his whole soul into it.

Spamton prayed under his breath, if there WAS a Heaven listening, that this particular little boy would never have his joy stifled by anyone.

In terms of sheer professional satisfaction, this was going to be a hard music set to beat.  But Spamton had his own reasons to be looking forward to the Pajama Party set he was planning for later in the afternoon.

2:40PM, April 9th

“‘Tis a pity I could not arrangeth something more formal,” Leroux said in an apologetic tone when he was near enough to be heard. “Country dancing doth hold a special place in my heart.”

GiGi looked into his face as he passed in front of her and then to the side. She noticed the sparkle in his eyes, and she felt a rush of warmth shoot up her spine. She had Lance’s hands clasped in both of hers, while she tried to keep up with the kick-step jig that the boy was making up as he went along. Leroux, in his turn, was doing some very fancy and stylized footwork, making a circle of his own around GiGi’s and Lance’s two-person circle.

“This is so much fun!” She heard different versions of that from nearly every side of the pavilion that their threesome’s dance steps took them. She hadn’t noticed all the people gathering to watch the dancers, but this WAS a festival, after all. And even if the weather wasn’t the greatest, Garlic Park usually had a crowd of fresh-air fanatics and health nuts strolling its paths on Saturdays.

Either way, she couldn’t imagine being happier than she was at this moment.

Well, maybe she COULD, but she highly doubted she was getting a proposal today. No need to take the spotlight away from Leroux’s son.

The last notes of what the strange robotic DJ had called “Party Mix 1350 CE” faded out, and there was a loud burst of applause from dancers and spectators alike.

GiGi squeezed Lance’s hands affectionately and then leaned down to give him a hug. She asked, “Are You Having A Good Birthday, Little Man?”

“The best, girldad!” He then wiggled out of her grasp, letting Leroux pick him up and swoop him through the air like a chubby little airplane.

It was nearing three o’clock. A delicious smell of grilled chicken wafted through the air. 

“Who would like to taketh a stroll with me and purchase some kebabs?” Leroux asked, with his arms full of wiggly child.

“Oh, boy, I would!” Lance shouted happily. “Can we?”

“May We, You Mean?” GiGi interjected before her brain caught up with her mouth, and she winced.  It wasn’t her place… yet… to correct Leroux’s son’s grammar.  

Fortunately, her boyfriend didn’t seem to mind, as he replied for both himself and his little boy, “Yes, we both can and may.” He shifted Lance to a one-armed carry and extended the other arm to GiGi.  “Let’s!”

She moved to wrap her own arm around his waist as they walked towards the food stalls.

5PM, April 9th

It was gone.

He couldn’t find the jar he had fully intended earlier that day to set aside and dump into a Port-a-Potty, rather than to use as an instrument of revenge. 

Now he couldn’t believe what Umar had just told him.

“You what!” Kirov snarled as he lost all semblance of patience. He must have misheard. That had to be it. There was no way that he heard right. He should have taken the weather as a sign. Today had definitely gone wrong. “Oxuš ällarg oruš kariyna,” he muttered under his breath, a phrase he hadn’t heard in years but was completely fitting for the situation at hand.

“I didn’t know!” Umar’s eyes were wide with panic. “I thought they were supposed to be mixed together!” One brown hand waved at the now-empty jars. “There were only two jars left, and one of them just said ‘berry’, and you were adding all kinds of other berries last night.” He was breathless as he rapidly explained it. “And since it looked like you were running out, I thought this would help things go a little further. At least people seem to like it, there’s barely any kompot left, just kvass .”

No, no, no. Kirov chanted the words to himself like a litany. 

Chest tightening, each breath more labored than the previous as he considered the implications. If Umar had poured the whole jar of "special juice" into the punchbowl when he refilled it…

His eyes darted around the area, over the gathering, pausing on those that he knew had stopped at their booth. 

That meant…

Forcing himself to take a calming breath, he tried to figure out how to fix this. There had to be a way. He just had to think it through. Quickly.  He wrestled his expression away from the fury and panic, into something a bit more amused and pleasant. Some would even call it playful, if not for the edge to it. 

“Ah, well, what’s done is done, friend!” He chuckled dryly, even almost sounded normal. “No one has asked for their donation back, so they must have liked the taste, no?”

He hoped no one noticed his prior outburst. That would be a real problem later, when it came out that there had been food tampering, if they’d heard his tone. With so many people having drunk the kompot now, instead of the three for which the fellonwort juice had been intended, there’s no way the poisoning wouldn’t be investigated. He had to make sure that the suspicion didn't fall on him. 

Umar gave a relieved smile. “If the reaction of the last group is anything to go by, they loved it!” He nodded excitedly, “They even came back and bought a couple more glasses to bring to one of the DJs!”

To one of the DJs? To Stanton? Now that I’d made up my mind to call the whole thing off? Universe, why do you hate me?. 

He mused for a few more , working on coming up with a plan. I’d better do something. 

Kirov chuckled again, struck by a dangerous idea. It should keep him free of suspicion. “That’s good!” He exclaimed as he reached for a cup, “And I am going to claim the privilege of the last glass!” 

He could only hope that the fellonwort mixed in was diluted enough as he suited action to words, ladled the dregs of the kompot, and downed it in one go. It was surprisingly sweet, even as his nerves caused a bitter aftertaste. 

“Please take one of the kvass bottles for yourself!” He smiled and motioned to the cooler with its melting ice. “We have raised much in donations!”

4PM, April 9th

Hard to believe that the accident ending their basketball career had been five months ago.  Swatch felt as limber and loose on the dance floor as they ever had doing a full-court press or a banana cut against an opposing team. The impact on their ankles and knees wasn’t nearly as ferocious, for starters. 

Their nap with Moggy had definitely recharged their batteries. And their current outfit certainly added to the mobility and freedom they felt. It was a pajama party, after all.

Swatch had donned their Christmas onesie, decorated with candy canes and holly leaves, for this timeslot. Moggy wore her double-zero football jersey nightgown.

Both of them sensibly wore sneakers instead of slippers.  There was only so far either of them wanted to go along with the theme, and for this session, “DJ Dreamweaver” seemed to be pulling out all the stops. No need to break yet another leg by sliding dangerously on a slick floor.

Moggy and Swatch had skipped across the dance floor towards each other as the opening drumbeats, hand-claps, and guitar chords of “Dancing With Myself” rang out. The energy didn’t show any signs of letting up with any of the next few tunes.

And then Spamton, sly devil that he was, faded out “Into The Groove” and faded in “All Night”. Swatch couldn’t see it, but they didn’t doubt that their boyfriend was smirking behind that ridiculous helmet. That particular Parov Stelar song HAD to be the equivalent of a thrown-down gauntlet.

Oh, it was ON! Challenge accepted. They grinned and rolled their shoulders. 

If Spamton wanted a bird-of-paradise courtship display, Spamton was going to GET a bird-of-paradise courtship display.  

“You might want to back up, Moggy,” they warned in a gentle tone.  

The grin on T.M.’s face widened, and she asked as she moved out of wingspan range, “Gonna bust some Sven Otten moves?”

“Damn straight.” They agreed, their smile turned nearly manic. 

Praying that their knee wouldn’t pop back out, Swatch waggled their hips and built up their footwork from a slow swaying to a faster crossed-ankle tap dancing style, their arms alternately held close to their body and fully splayed out.

Thank goodness this song was only two and a half minutes long. 

And there were still more than thirty minutes of this set to get through.

They were definitely going to need to rehydrate when this was all over.

As if Spamton had read Swatch’s mind from across the dance floor, the next song that flowed off the turntables was “Red Rain”. A slower tempo, which was most welcome.

T.M. reached out a hand to Swatch to pull them back into the new rhythm, but there was a slight frown on her face.

They asked, “Anything the matter?” when the steps brought them close enough to hear each other.

“Kinda a grim song to play at a fundraiser for peace,” she replied.

They considered it, then asked, “You think he’s doing the ‘secret code’ thing again?”

She shook her head, “Nah. Probably just liked the percussion. But he’s definitely acting weird today.”

“Glad you noticed, and that it’s not just me.”

The two spun away from one another in their impromptu foxtrot.  When they faced one another again, Swatch said. “I’ve got an idea as to why, but I want to talk to him before I jump to conclusions.”

“Uh huh. It’s almost like he’s high or something.”

The whispered words of one song segued into the jazzy opening bars of “Safe and Sound”, and Swatch and T.M. concentrated on picking up the pace.

Solving the mystery would have to wait until after this set. This was Spamton’s last obligation for the day, and then the three of them could go back to Tibbetts Avenue and unwind with a movie.

After getting something to drink. Replacing fluids after all this exercise was a priority.

10:02PM, April 9th

T.M. sat on the hard plastic chair in the waiting room next to GiGi. She had no idea how long the two of them had been holding hands.

How had this wonderful day turned into such a disastrous one?

11:12PM, April 9th

Pain radiated from his stomach outward. Muscles tightened and cramped. No matter how much water he drank, he couldn’t rid himself of the thirst that built up. When it got to be too much to handle, he had joined the others at the hospital, where a triage center had been set up for those who were suffering from "food poisoning". 

It was there, in the examination room he’d finally been shown to, that he was confronted by the severity of the situation. Why hadn’t he made certain the poison was not able to be added? Why hadn’t he thought this through better? He should have gotten rid of the berries and their juice as soon as he started having doubts. 

“I know why you did it,” a friendly voice stated, drawing him from his pain-filled musing and reminding him that he was no longer alone in the room. And why.

“I did something like it in grammar school when I was a Girl Scout. I was jealous over some other girl’s badges…” She paused, sliding her chair closer to the gurney he was lying on, until he met her gaze. “Seemed like all she had to do was breathe, and she’d get a new Scout badge. So one afternoon on a Scout camping weekend, I picked some berries and did a switcheroo with the troop leaders' berry stash when we were all making our ‘wilderness survival’ dinner.”

Swallowing harshly, he listened to the plainclothes detective who was speaking quietly and thoughtfully. Keen eyes watched him as she spoke, observing each of his reactions. She sported an aquamarine mohawk with shaved sides and a black eye patch studded with silver rivets, which set off her sharp cheekbones and predator-toothy smile. 

If Kirov had not been feeling so ill, he would have been attracted to her despite her gender. 

As it was, the terror of discovery made the rolling in his stomach so much worse. 

That was before considering the horror he felt when he discovered that at least one child had accidentally gotten the fellonwort mixture. He had never wanted to hurt someone innocent. Only those he thought were being cruel to him. Each moment of the last several days flashed through his mind. Every choice. Each fork in the road that led to this moment. All the thoughts and feelings that prompted and drove him. 

It took every ounce of control to keep the bile down as Detective Unwin’s next words confirmed his fear. “Smart of you to poison yourself. That’s what I did, too, to avoid suspicion.” 

Suddenly light-headed, he couldn’t tell if he was relieved that the detective knew or terrified that she knew. Now what was going to happen? 

[paprikkamspaint]

What if - 

Messy ideas for Swatch-mybeloved stikers that I will probably do for myself(???

[freckled-nebula]

anyone that says the swatchton dynamic is anything other than the parent grabbing up their kid by the back of the shirt when they see them with something they’re not supposed to have or do something they’re not supposed to do is either in denial or a liar /j

[sometimes-sleeby-octopus]

Ideas/Aus for Swatchton fic/drawing or whatever

Excuse my lingo, I swear more when I’m being chaotic

And yes, I’m being chaotic C:

Some things were thought up on the spot because my head is full of good shit and Just Shit and also Random Ass shit

I want to make these ideas but like, I gotta get the motivation first so I’ll just share what they are for now because it’s fun

I’m kinning Jevil’s chaos rn LMAO

Casual au

- So like they live in a world like ours

- But better

- Haha escapism

- Jevil and seam there with lancer and ralsei and Roulx and my other favs too

- Bc I like them most

- No other reason

- No fancy suits

- T-shirts and all that

- No complex

- Easy (or rather easier) to draw!!! Bc my motivation is lacking all the time!!!

Dog AU

- Basically everyone’s a furry but they have to be part dog because I said so

- SWATCH IS A DOG BIRD

- BC I DO WHAT I WANT

- SPAMTON IS TOO

- woodpecker dog…

- What bird is swatch???

- Crow???

- Doesn’t matter still Dog Bird

- Okay but PET SETTING

- A dog’s haven with other assorted shit type of deal

- Not to be confused with pet sitting

- BUT THAT IS AN OPTION

- Okay maybe not all part dogs

- But the majority will be

- Because I said so

- Again

- Swatch and Spamton? Still bird dogs

“Comfy Ratatouille Restaurant Looking Ass” Au (Or CRRLA au for short lol)

- They run a restaurant together

- Not in dark world, but “Earth but Better” world (reference the casual au for setting)

- That’s it

- JUST KIDDING

- HAHA, YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE

- I NEVER AM

- Domestic and fluffy

- Restaurant/Cafe woohoo

- Color Cafe is a cool name but the name would not be that

- Maybe it would be Palette Co

- Cause’ a bunch of swatches make a palette and spamton is a buisness dude

- They are Chaotic Duo so they will switch their jobs like once a week

- They work with the swatchlings who enjoy the chaos of job switching

- YO WHAT IF I DID LIKE SPECIFIC SWATCHLINGS WITH NAMES AND STUFF

- The job switching becomes a gimmick of sorts

- Will the owners deliver your food? Will they entertain? Will they cook the food?

- Nobody knows

- It’s fun *insert chaotically happy smiley face*

- But swatch in a chef outfit- they’d be so cute dnshdhdsndf-🥺💕

- Spamton agree

- Okay now I’m done, thank you for listening <3

[petra-creat0r]

Fankid Master Post (WIP)

Because I have so many and I want a place to keep track of all the information and current refs. Fair warning, most of these are old and I'm working through updating refs and information so this is mostly for my own reference. For the most part though, if something is here then I still plan on using the information/it's still true to some degree. If a kid or some information isn't mentioned here, it's likely outdated or that kid no longer exists

Older Gen

Soriel

Sariel | family relationships ask CK | Birth Ask Comic Boys Fav foods ask Sariel's Friends: Karri & Arcas (OLD) | Aster (OLD) | Bahns (OLD) | Trip Squad updated

Papyton

Broadway (OLD) Rexi (OLD) | Adoption ask Chicago | Baby | Side blog | Healing | Hair strand | Ringing ask | Playbill (OLD) | Rebooted design Cologne ask (OLD) Chicago's Friends: Hotspots (OLD) | HS Dark World (OLD) | Spamton HS reaction ask | Addison Parallels

Alphyne

Giko (OLD) Izuku (OLD) Naomi Naomi's Clutch | Clutch ask Nex Annie

BrattyCatty

Britni | Zealous goth ask

Ghostly Webs

Alice (OLD) Aranea, Nellie, and Joy (OLD) Wilbur

Misc info

Parents Reaction ask Traditions ask Ish Fan Kids tag Junior Secret Squad tag JSS Overview JSS and Mercair SBs JSS Older designs Fool's Fate Masterpost

Nicepants

Graham (OLD)

RG01XRG02

Vee (OLD) (Fuse all)

Dogi

Trix and Trixie (OLD) Dogi 1 Dogi 2 Dogi 3 Pup

FukuSkate

Sizzle (OLD)

Trauma Boys

Mei (OLD) Milo (OLD) Tae (OLD) Hyunie (OLD)

Italian Sparrow

G'resh Ezio & An (OLD)

Johnson Kids and Daz's Kid

Edgy Kids (OLD) (Rework)

Younger Gen

Vanilla Choco

Karma (OLD) Neri (OLD)

FriskKid

Liz (OLD) Gecky (OLD) (Rework/fuse Velox) | Gecky ask Azula (OLD) (Rework) Somil (OLD) (Rework)

Asriel's Kids

Hope (OLD) (Rework) Faith (OLD) (Rework)

Suselle

Donny (OLD) | Baby

Non-Ish/AUs

UnderCult

Neriah Kariem | Drawing

IshSwap

Papgore kids (OLD) | Updated Tempest design Napstasans kids (OLD) T-Rex kids (OLD) Oriental Lily kids (OLD)

Spamvil

Cameran, Pinochle, Scamlynn, Pip (OLD) | Cameran updated (OLD) | Pinochle, Scamlynn, & Pip updated (OLD) Pyramid & Ponzi (OLD)

Swatchton

Gradient & Buckette (OLD)

Misc.

The Owl House

Azura Apollo Piper Kiara TOH fankids ask

Pokemon

Joyce

Fankid Adopts

Fankid Adopts

[weird-color]

Hmm how about either Spamton or Noelle from Deltarune for the character thing

SPAMt0n my son

-Sexuality : Probably, a pansexual loser

-Gender : Bigender crap

-Ship : I haven't really got any other character to ship him with??? But sometimes i like,,swatchton

-BROTP : Addisons.The fucking Addisons are his siblings and no one can god fucking stop me from headcanon that.

-NOTP : I've seen people shipping him with Kris and that's honestly giving me goosebumps since Kris is possibly a minor and Spamton is,, like,,, A MAN???? WHAT IN THE SHIT IS HE EVEN.But it still makes me feel weird.No offense.

-Random headcanon : Sometimes he breaks into Queen's castle/Swatch's house to steal food from the refrigerator and feed his pipis.He doesn't care about himself he cares abt his kids (i WANT to think these are his kids and not future restaurant plates.)

-General opinion : He's literally that one parrot who doesn't repeat any kind of word you say but only repeats the cursing you say like "FUCK" and then "FUCK".

He pat pat

[ne0nwithazero]

STILL thinking about his crush

This is a redraw of the first Swatchton picture I did a year ago today

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 38

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [Spamager], GiGi/Leroux [QueenKaard]

Characters: Spamton Addison, Eos Addison, Swatch Paletta, Indigo Dyer, Catechu Dyer, Julius Dyer, Endora the Third, Desiree Dyer, T.M. Tinker, GiGi McCray, Leroux Kaard, Lance O'Toole, Kirov Rouvin

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Scooby-Dooby Doors

Chapter summary: The days leading up to the Seeds of Peace Festival, as seen through varying points of view.

Author notes: Content warning for discussion of alcohol consumption, plus a [possible] hallucinatory experience.

Special thanks to @cozylittleartblog for permission to reference her QueenKaard comics. They've shaped a lot of the way I write GiGi, Leroux, and Lance.

========

FRIDAY NIGHT, THE FIRST OF APRIL

Spamton had never seen a DVD hiccup like this one. Steve Sharples’ “Bolero” played out over the closing credits of MOULIN ROUGE!, and then kept looping back to play again. He’d seen audio tracks looped like this on YouTube, but a DVD doing it was new to him.

One heck of a coincidental scratch , he thought after the fourth time, and pushed his glasses up to rub at his eyes.

The music stopped in mid-chord, and the word “truth” was frozen in pixels on the screen

Huh?

And then it resumed with the orchestral flourish and the unfurling of the remaining words ”beauty, freedom, but above all, love.”

Definitely unsettled now, not knowing whether or not this was the first hallucination he’d had in months, he leaned over to poke a sleepy Eos.  “M-movie’s over.”

His eldest brother came back to attention at Spamton’s words and reached for the remote, turning the 85-inch flat screen TV off. “So what did you think this time, seeing it as an adult rather than as a kid?”

“Hmmmm.” Spamton wanted to give a serious answer, since this was obviously one of his sibling’s favorite movies. “C-can I be honest? I think the f-fact of Zidler and the Diamond D-Dogs losing their - their livelihood and their home is a LOT m-more tragic than Satine dying.”

He didn’t bother to explain that losing one’s livelihood and home might be just a touch relatable. No need to ruin an evening of family bonding.

Eos nodded in response to his statement. “Same here.  I like the IDEA of love as much as anyone, but that big romance between Christian and Satine?  That was mutual obsession, not love.  Satine was street-savvy, she knew the risks of stringing the Duke along and not delivering, but she let Christian’s infatuation blind her.  The pair of them were oblivious.  THAT’S not love.”

Warming to his topic, Eos continued, “When I’ve seen people in love, truly in love, they’re MORE aware of everyone around them, not less.” He leaned over and poked Spamton back.  “I think you might know a little more about that now than you did a few years ago.”

“G-Guilty as charged.” And Spamton did actually feel guilty for what felt like hours of rhapsodizing over his partners and monopolizing the conversation.  He could blame the booze for that. 

Digging out the special vanilla bean ice cream for dessert had turned into making a pitcherful of frozen Brandy Alexanders, the drinking of which had definitely loosened Spamton’s tongue and had made both Eos and him quite sentimental.  An over-the-top lushly romantic movie had seemed the perfect thing two hours ago, but he was starting to feel he didn’t know his eldest brother any better now than he did before he’d gotten off the train.

Spamton got up from the couch and sighed. “G-Guess it’s time to call it a n-night.” It was coming up on midnight, too late to text Trez. He could probably get away with shooting a quick note to Swatch, but figured it would be better to wait until morning.  

Eos got up too and wagged his finger at his baby brother. “You’ll come talk to me if you can’t sleep, right?  I’m here to listen, you know.  It means a lot to me that you WANT to talk to me.”

“I will. And I’ll c-c-come running if I have a n-nightmare.”

“I will. And I’ll c-c-come running if I have a n-nightmare.”

“See that you do.”

SATURDAY NIGHT, THE SECOND OF APRIL

Swatch woke up abruptly when a small heat-seeking missile unerringly found its target. worming its way under their outstretched arm.  

They had been lying spread-eagled on their front, taking up as much of the bed as possible, and hadn’t heard the bedroom door open.  They rolled back onto their side and pulled Spamton into a hug, sleepily kissing his cheeks, his nose, and finally his mouth.

“Welcome home,” they rasped. “Your nose is cold.”

“And you’re w-warm. Too warm. Like - like ‘running a f-f-fever’ too warm. Are you alright?”

“Eh, I’ll live. I went on a wilderness walk today and might have gotten a little bit soaked through.”

“M-might have?”

“Okay, I definitely got soaked. I fell into a marshy bit.”

“Swatch.” It was completely dark in the room, and Spamton’s voice was firm now. “Why were you in - in a marshy bit?”

“Looking for pussy willows?”

“Pussy willows.” The small man sighed. “Well, that - that explains the v-v-vases all over the living room.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Swatch leaned in for another kiss. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“I’d say it was because I m-missed you, but really it was b-b-b-because it’s supposed t-to rain tomorrow and Eos didn’t - didn’t want me to - to risk his precious record albums on the tr-train, so he drove me b-back here..”  Spamton anticipated Swatch’s next question.”And n-no, he didn’t just round-trip it back to - to Purchase. The f-family has a c-condo on the Upper East Side.”

“Indeed. Why am I not surprised.” They yawned, their hands wandering over their partner’s body. They commented groggily, “You poor thing. You seem to have lost your clothes somewhere between here and the front door.  Let me warm you up.”

“Mmmmm.”

“Mmmmmm.”

MONDAY NIGHT, THE FOURTH OF APRIL

Julius Dyer opened the apartment door with one hand before either Catechu or Indigo could dig out their keys.  With the other hand, he clasped a fat black cat to his chest and shoulder.

“Conquered without a fight, huh? It’s good of you to have taken Endora in until I get settled.” T.M. grinned at the twins’ dad from where she stood just behind them, a pastry box in her hands. The tall man moved back from the doorway so he could let his sons and adopted niece in.

“Girl, this kitty is keener on sports than half the folks I work with. She’s my ESPN buddy, isn’t that right, Endy?”

The cat nuzzled Julius at the sound of her nickname, and Catto smirked at the sight. “You gonna get her a little Knicks bandanna, Dad?”

“Sure thing I am.  And maybe a Mets blanket.” Julius led everyone into the living room and let Endora the Third hop out of his hold onto the couch. “Soon as she learns not to paw at the scrolly thing on the television.”

“It’s called a ticker, Dad.” Indo wrapped an arm over his father’s shoulder and steered him towards the kitchen, saying, “When’s dinner, what’s for dinner, and can I help?”

“Desiree’s home in an hour, dinner is chicken and rice casserole, and I don’t gotta be asked twice to have you do some of the chopping.”

T.M. put the box on the kitchen island, rubbed her stomach happily, and then grabbed Catto's hand. “C’mon, big fella. Let’s see how much of my stuff is downstairs in storage so I know what I have to deal with next month when I move, wherever I move.”

Catto followed her to the elevator, mock-groaning. “And I’ll bet you’re betting on me and my bro carrying it all, six flights of stairs in some walkup.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmaybe.”

“Good thing you’re my sis.”

Later, as dinner was winding down, Desiree was the first to bring up rental possibilities for T.M. Ticking the points off on her fingers, she said, “There’s co-living sites, furnished rooms, and there’s apartments.  I can do a referral for you for Cohabs up in Harlem, if you want.”

“Ugh Sure, I’d have a private room and I wouldn’t have to worry about furniture, but it would be like living in a cage unless I wanted to socialize with twenty-three roommates. I did enough of that in the dorms with GiGi and her entourage. And isn’t Cohabs just for short-term remote work dweebs?”

“I think the acceptable term nowadays is ‘digital nomad’, honey. At least that’s what our office calls them. You’re right though, I can’t see it as a long-term solution for you.”

“Where does that leave me, though?”

An unspoken conversation had apparently taken place behind T.M.’s back, because Catto and Indo swooped in to grab everyone’s empty plates, and Julius, an apron wrapped around his middle, was making shooing motions. “Go talk shop, Dez, we’ve got this.”

His wife laughed as she got up from the table. “C’mon, Tab- I mean, Therese, we can finish this in the den.”

T.M. followed her, waggling her fingers at the three men and tossing the words, “Don’t eat all the crumb cake I brought, save some for us when we’re done” over her shoulder.

After half an hour of discussing the salary that T.M. would be getting at WNYC, her expected expenses for commuting on the subway, clothing, and food, Desiree went over some of the current listings her agency had for furnished and unfurnished apartments they had on file.  The results were grim, to say the least.

They both reluctantly agreed that the only real choices that fit T.M.’s budget were either studios in Kingsbridge near the college, which would be a long commute at the best of times, or a shared apartment in downtown Manhattan, with all the risks involved in living with strangers.

“Swatch isn’t going to have it any easier, you know,” Desiree pointed out. 

“I do know, even with their higher pay. And Swatch isn’t as, shall we say, gregarious, as your boys are. I don’t see Swatch wanting roommates.”

“Not even the man Swatch is dating?”

T.M. flinched, and hoped against hope that Desiree hadn’t seen her flinch.

No such luck. The older woman sighed, then seemed to make up her mind as to what to say.

“I know I have no real right to butt in, but I think of you as being one of my kids, especially with how useless your mama is.  And a little bird told me that you’re seeing Swatch’s boyfriend on the side—”

“It’s not on the side!  Swatch knows all about it. And they’re alright with it.”

To her credit, Desiree visibly was giving some thought to the implications of that remark and didn’t just rush in with a condemning reply. She did draw in a few deep breaths, and then softly asked, “Honey, are you being safe?”

T.M. knew exactly what was being asked, and something in her chest ached.  This was the mother she should have had.  This was the kind of talk she should have been able to have with her own mother. Sitting in an apartment right above the one where she used to live, it felt like miles and decades between here and now and her old pre-college life.

She couldn’t help the waver in her voice when she answered, “Yes, Desiree, I’m being safe. I’ve been on birth control for years, and I’m not having what you’d think of as sex right now anyway.” Her attempt at her usual grin faltered as she added, “Gave it up for Lent.”

She was reassured when the other woman gave a snort and snarked back at her, “That isn’t what I asked, Dr. Ruth.” 

“Really.” T.M. looked her adopted aunt straight in the eyes. “We’re just having fun. No strings.”

Desiree closed her laptop and turned in her chair, holding her arms out to T.M. “C’mere. If I can’t stop you from breaking your own heart by pretending you don't have one, I can at least give you a hug.”

WEDNESDAY NIGHT, THE SIXTH OF APRIL

Timing is everything , Spamton thought to himself as he blew his nose for what felt like the thousandth time.

Swatch’s “wilderness trek” and wet feet had resulted in Swatch having one - ONE! - day of sniffles, and then they were as right as rain, whereas Spamton was still completely congested and wheezing. He figured that navigating trains and subways had given his system enough of a petri dish that Swatch’s cold had knocked him out harder than it had Swatch.  He’d missed three days of classes, had called out of his radio show last night, and had reluctantly canceled the “dancing” part of the upcoming dance marathon on Saturday, although he fully intended to make up the amount of the monetary pledges he’d gathered out of his own pocket.

There was no way Spamton was missing out on the DJing part of the marathon, though. He’d laid his hands on a Daft Punk cosplay helmet; the visor was big enough that he could wear eyewear under it. Between the helmet, his pink and yellow shades behind the tinted charcoal glass visor, and the vocoder, DJ Dreamweaver’s identity could stay a secret.

He sighed, thinking of the lost opportunities to cut a metaphorical rug with either Trez or Swatch. Much to Spamton's surprise, Swatch had signed up for two separate hours of dancing, times to be determined. Unlike the fierce competition for pledges that had been flaring for weeks between Trez and Leroux as they hit all the local businesses in Kingsbridge, Swatch was being quietly sanguine by raising money in their old Queens neighborhood through the members of their aunt and uncle’s church parish.

And speaking of church, Spamton had to talk to his siblings about the verbal invitation for Easter weekend that he had gotten from Indigo yesterday,  passed along from Indo's parents. Apparently the Easter morning sunrise service at Rockaway Beach was an annual thing for all the Dyers and their extended family.

For the Addisons, Easter as an ecclesiastical thing had gotten less and less important over the years since their parents' death; they really only went to church as a family on Christmas Eve.  But Spamton could still remember some of the High Masses and midnight Easter Vigil services from when he was very, very young. The organ music, the chanting in Latin, the candlelight had all stuck in his head as something dreamy and marvelous, but had faded with time.

Indo had mentioned that Catto's girlfriend Kendra had also been invited, so this probably wasn't a setup for Spamton to be getting the shovel talk.

Maybe not.

Probably not.

His nose started running again, and with a sigh, he reached for another tissue.

THURSDAY NIGHT, THE SEVENTH OF APRIL

He finished decanting the liquid into the final two mason jars.  Once the boiled fruit cooled, the jars could be refrigerated until Saturday morning.

Kirov had put two of his roommates to work to help him cut up cherries, plums, and peaches. He had wheedled his floor’s RA into letting him use the kitchen in the RA suite to make kompot for the Seeds of Peace festival.

His study group for Doctor Hashimoto's history class were going to be manning a stall there. The chilled fruit drink, a reminder of his childhood, was going to be his contribution to solicit donations.  He'd also gone down by subway last weekend and had splurged on twelve bottles of Monastery Kvass with Black Currant from a Ukrainian grocery store in the East Village.

There was one more ingredient, of course. He had handled processing the berries himself, and would add their juice later, at the event itself.

The finishing touch.  A taste of home.

This was turning into an expensive exercise, if the cost of the mason jars he’d ordered from Amazon were added in.

But it was for a good cause.

Supposedly.

Kirov had very complicated feelings about the political situation in Eastern Europe, but they all came down to the firm belief that he no longer could claim Russia or Chechnya as his home. He wanted to be American.

American men could love other American men, after all.

And so what if he'd been unlucky in love so far? He was going to find someone to love, no matter who he had to push aside to do it.

In the meantime, he was going to do the American thing and help raise money for the oppressed.

FRIDAY NIGHT, THE EIGHTH OF APRIL

"It is time for sleep, mine prince, and time to giveth the MP3 player a rest. We will all listen to some lovely music tomorrow." "Are you gonna dance?"

"Yes, but thou willst not get to watch unless you sleepeth."

"Okay."  Lance was more than half asleep by this point, and let Leroux pull the covers up to his chin without any further protest.  "This is going to be the best birthday ever. Night, lesser dad. Love you."

"I love you too, my son. When thou wakest, thou wilt be..."

"Five!"

GiGi leaned over and kissed Lance on top of the head with a loud "Mwah!" sound. She said in a singsong voice, "Sleep Tight, Do Not Let The Computer Bus Bite!"

Lance giggled and slipped into dreamland as the grownups tiptoed from the room.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON, THE TENTH OF APRIL

FOOD POISONING INCIDENT AT LOCAL FESTIVAL

Four Hospitalized, Dozens Sickened During Fundraiser For Ukraine; Norovirus Suspected

Youngest Victim, Aged 5, In Fair Condition

[ne0nwithazero]

🌊🌸 Welcome! 🌸🌊

Commissions • Carrd • Neocities • Twitter

Hihii! My name is Jay / Neon, I'm 26 and I'm a Non-Binary and Aromantic Digital Artist from Portugal, though I also have a lot of other creative hobbies such as writing, sewing and coding! :)

My passion is Character Design and I love writing stories and characters that can connect with people 💗

🌊🌸 Some notes! 🌸🌊

You CAN use my art as profile pictures, banners, etc, provided that credit is given to my account.

You CAN tag my art as "kin", "me", etc. I really don't mind. The one exception is art of my sona (The blue and pink raccoon), because like… That's just weird lol

You CAN tag my art as ships. Say I draw two characters together even if they're not a ship, you're allowed to tag it as such! (DO NOT DO THIS FOR UNDERAGE, INCEST OR ANY KIND OF PROSHIP GARBAGE UNLESS YOU WANT TO GET AN INSTANT BLOCK. HAVE SOME COMMON SENSE PLEASE)

Spam liking/reblogs is OKAY and welcome! So is liking without reblogging 💙 I appreciate you visiting at all!

I read all the tags I get, so like… Keep that in mind if you're going to be weird on them lol

🌊🌸 Tags I use 🌸🌊

#My Art - Self-Explanatory, all art that I make goes here

#Jay Talks - Posts where I just talk about whatever stuff comes to mind.

#Jay Asks - Where I respond to people's questions. I will also tag the person's username, or #anonymous if it was an anon

#For Me - Gift Art and things like that! I love looking at what people create, please always feel free to share!!

🌊🌸 Deltarune OC Tags 🌸🌊

#Mike - 🎙️🌸 - Tiny microphone darkner in a duo with Host

#Host - 📺🙌 - Mute TV darkner in a duo with Mike

#Tenna - 📺💫 - TV Darkner from the Flower Shop, Mike and Host's kid

#Speckle - 🖤🤍 - Swatchton son (Non-canon to my AU)

#Omega Host - ���️📺👁️ - Host's secret boss form

#Klieg - 🎞️💡 - Pretentious spotlight darkner and Film director

#Clippa - 🎨💜 - Swatchton daughter, Clip Art Swatchling/Addison hybrid

My current biggest interest and fixation is Deltarune, primarily the characters Swatch and Spamton, as well as my OCs Mike and Host from my fanmade Chapter 3 take! You'll likely see me post and reblog a lot of stuff surrounding them.

I also tend to reblog posts about aromanticism and aromantic positivity because it's something that's very important to me. I take a lot of pride in being aromantic and always love to share people's takes on it and try to educate others on how varied the aspec community is!

There's also the occasional unrelated fandom post, and I try my best to tag everything I come across, with the names of the characters and the associated fandom, so not only are they easier to find in my blog, but also easier to filter for anyone uninterested! :)

I'm very awkward when it comes to making friends and talking to people, but you're always welcome to reach out and chat!

DNI

I keep most of my info and DNI junk in my Carrd, which you can read here. But the TL;DR is:

NO transphobes, terfs, exclusionists, proshippers are welcome here. Go away. If I do reblog from someone like that, please let me know!

No ace and arophobia. Seriously, like??? *Gestures vaguely* Don't??

No discourse. Seriously I'm 26, basically a senior citizen. I don't want to know about dumb drama and just want to chill out on the internet and share my art with people.