#thank u for asking!!!!!!!!

[sanguinaryrot]

for the OC asks: 16, 17, and 25 for Otto and/or bennett!!

thank u !!!!!! my guilty pleasure......my own ocs...........

16. do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?

i hadnt ever considered them having pets but i think Bennett is the type to feed stray cats. I think he could sit eerily still for eerily long, wide-eyed with a treat in his hand waiting for a cat to approach him and gain their trust. I think he does this a lot but i think its a habit he picked up in his Divorce Era in the late 40s early 50s

If Otto had a pet he would probably have a highly expensive and perhaps illegal tortoise that he bought in the 80s. He stands at the turtle's enclosure smiling with his hands clasped behind his back. Bennett has no idea whats so charming about it. His name is something stupid like Lunchbox.

17. how did they spend their summers/free time as a child

Bennett was a really weird little girl and felt really alienated from his peers. I dont imagine he had a lot of friends. He probably had dolls and tea sets and perhaps had a badminton racket but i imagine him as particularly fascinated with a lake near his family's home. i think he would watch as the fish swam around and would throw rocks in watch the ripples and i think he would put his feet in the shallows and i think he would pick flowers that grew by the waterside. As he got older i think he would journal by it and enjoy the solitude.

As for Otto I have still yet to do any research on Switzerland in the 18th century cause im a #FakeFan so idk what children were doing in the 1710-1730s besides like dying in mines FAKE FAN FAKE FAN FAKE FAN

25. how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?

as vampires they both have excellent eyesight and hearing :3

[sixxtytoo]

9, 4, and 22 for ask game!

9. Best compliment you've got

literally every single time someone tags my art with #insp (which has been like twice now,,) a piece of my soul floats away and i get that much closer to true self-confidence

4. Fav artist(s)/idol(s)

cheezy but my friends/mutuals!!! i get really inspired when people i know and care for do what they love and they're proud of their work... i can't really get super excited about people who i have no personal connection to! i have no idea why

22. What do you like to draw

anything that i'm into at the moment!!! i find that i do my best stuff when i care about the subject (or my friends care about it). this usually leads to instant burnout once i get interested in something else though which mega sucks :[

[stealingpotatoes]

Your art gives me so much joy! Have you done Force Ghost Anakin meeting his adopted grandbaby Grogu?

oh no, worst ever meet your new grandpa in the history of ever

(commission info // tip jar!)

[foolsocracy]

Hi, I love your art! Would you ever consider drawing the Fab Five as adults?

hell yeah

[hinamie]

I'm always pushing you away from me / but you come back with gravity / and when I call, you come home

[skiploom]

tumblr ate the ask before i could publish it 😭

[hiraeix]

to hold me like water,

or christ, hold me like a knife

[mikufanclub]

your fish girls are so everything to me i love them thank you for putting them into this world

im so glad everyone likes them..

[doodled0g]

Those Swansea memes reminds me of one thats like "Told my wife I was going to the bank, didn't tell her which one!" and it shows a guy at a river bank fishing.

anyone want more fishwashing

[daeyumi]

can you do Midna my beloved please 🥺

you have such pretty art and are definitely one of my idols :)

u know what. yes i can 🩵

[sparklingchim]

excuse me, ms. Darly but could we get a short lwh!fam like this https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5a8Ngzt3Xg/?igsh=MTYydm1xamt0eXo2Mg==

pairing: dilf!jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook has a habit of snoring, and nabi had enough of it.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Nabi is a very clingy baby.

Very cuddly, too.

So most nights, she somehow finds her way into your and Jungkook’s bedroom.

It's almost like she has a sixth sense for when you're about to settle into bed, starting to cry and whine to get your attention.

And almost always, Jungkook comes back with Nabi cradled in his arms, her fake tears still glistening in her eyes as he carries her into bed.

You remind him that it's not good to let her get used to this habit, and he always defends it by saying he can't resist letting her sleep with you both. "Her big tired eyes melt me into letting her sleep with us."

Jungkook finally gets to experience firsthand what it means to turn putty at the sight of round, sparkly doe eyes.

And just as Nabi has a habit of wanting to sleep between her parents, Jungkook has a habit of snoring. Every night. Though he claims he doesn't snore as loudly when you complain and you always give him an incredulous look, snarling back, "how would you know?"

All three of you are cuddled up in bed, Jungkook’s snores richocheting off the walls as you're deep in sleep—except for Nabi.

She's squirming in bed, the covers getting pulled and tugged with the movements of her little body, which causes you wake up. Your eyes flutter open.

You just catch the moment when Nabi raises her tiny hand and smacks it against Jungkook’s cheek just enough to create a soft echo of the slap.

Jungkook's snoring comes to an abrupt halt.

He grumbles, shifting to adjust his position and escape whatever just hurt him, all while keeping his eyes closed.

You stifle a giggle as you watch him groggily scratch his cheek. Nabi's big, curious eyes drift to your smiling face, and she wriggles her way back to you.

"Good job, Nabi," you whisper, pulling her close. She snuggles into your side, her little fingers curling around your chest as she nestles in.

"Did she just hit me?" Jungkook mumbles, still half-asleep, his voice thick with confusion.

You laugh softly, brushing a hand through Nabi's silky hair.

"Your snores annoyed her," you say, giggling. "See, you are very loud."

"Nabi's ruthless," he huffs.

Jungkook cracks one eye open, glancing at the two of you cuddled up together.

"Traitor," he mumbles, pouting in mock betrayal. But he quickly switches back, leaning in to drop a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Sorry, baby. Dad didn't mean to be so loud. I'll let you sleep now, yeah?"

Nabi lets out a little yawn, her tiny mouth stretching wide as she snuggles deeper into your side. The sight of her small, sleepy face and the way her eyelashes flutter as she fights to keep her eyes open melts both you and Jungkook.

Jungkook shifts to make more room, his arms wrapping around you and Nabi in a protective, cosy embrace.

You rest your head against Jungkook’s shoulder, the three of you nestled together in a perfect cuddle pile. As Jungkook’s breathing gradually synchronizes with Nabi’s, he kisses your forehead, his touch tender and loving.

"Love you, and I'm sorry."

"Love you, and it's okay," you whisper back.

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[imissthestarswhenicry]

whos he texting?🤨

[stealingpotatoes]

Forever thinking about a headcanon I saw where Anakin and Yoda are cornered by pirates and then Yoda starts just starts talking to them in fluent street Huttese with his backwards syntax while Anakin's brain explodes

the only real-world equivalent of that I can think of is it’s like hearing your headmaster/principal speak roadman so

(commission info // tip jar!)

[dailyhatsune]

Excuse me, could I maybe ask for a transfem Miku reassuring me that things can still work out for me?

things’ll get better someday. when in doubt, let a blue shark handle it for you

[earthtooz]

earth do you have any spare alhaitham thoughts 🥺 thinking ab him a little extra hard tonight 😵

nothing but fluff, reader and al-haitham are engaged, so much banter.

"What do you think about inviting Nahida to our wedding?"

Al-Haitham looks at you incredulously, blinking slowly to register your question. You know a lengthy discussion is imminent when he uncrosses his leg, a habit of his whenever he needs to prepare for a conversation that requires most of his attention.

"You don't mean Lesser Lord Kusanali, do you?" He asks and you nod, as if it is typical to invite a god to one's wedding. "Dear, do you understand what you are asking right now?"

"I do," you sit down beside him, Zaytun peach in one hand and a small knife in the other, cutting up slices that you feed him.

"Then do you realise how ludicrous your question is?"

"I think you are overcomplicating it."

His book snaps shut. "Am I? Or is it appropriate because you just suggested inviting an archon to our very ordinary wedding?"

"You still think you're ordinary after overthrowing a corrupt government and being promoted by said archon?"

"You're crazy," Al-Haitham murmurs, shaking his head with an affectionate smile, one that he always likes to conceal by pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You poke his side gently. "Then we are cut from the same cloth."

"That does not diminish your madness."

Still, you persist. "Well, you haven't said anything in response to my suggestion."

"I called you crazy."

"You haven't said anything I want to hear."

Once again, he sighs, but the noise is too airy to hold any true malice. "Even if I reject your idea, you would personally go to the Sanctuary of Surasthana and deliver the invite yourself."

Instead of answering, you merely feed him another slice of the Zaytun peach, smile growing more and more mischievous.

There is a reason Al-Haitham wants to spend the rest of his life with you. The bouts of delightful juvenility paints endless blotches of colour on his plain canvas, carving a certain feeling of warmth and admiration in his chest that no one else has managed to recreate.

No one compares to you, and he's certain no one ever will because even after all these years of knowing and loving you, every moment he spends with you is as priceless as divine knowledge. Even when you ask ridiculous questions that perplex him greatly.

"How do you even deliver messages to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?" You wonder.

A kiss to your temple halts your thinking. "Let's find out another time. How did this idea of inviting Nahida spring about?"

You shrug. "I was merely thinking back. She's always been so thoughtful and kind to her subjects, even when the Akademiya hid her from us. Then the idea of inviting her made itself quite at home."

"I see," he hums. "Ever so thoughtful."

"Maybe it's a good omen for our partnership to invite an archon. She won't have to bring a present, her presence alone is enough."

Al-Haitham huffs. "My faith in our relationship exceeds that of a good omen, but I agree."

"Aww, you love me that much?"

"Do you still doubt me?"

"Still?" You parrot. "Darling, I've never doubted you."

"I'd like to contest that. Remember when you were vehemently against me resigning as the Acting Grand Sage?"

You feed him another slice. "It gave me bragging rights! Who else could claim that their hot boyfriend-now-fiancé was the Grand Sage?"

"So you prefer when I'm away at the Akademiya working tirelessly from dawn to dusk?"

"Well, no," you set the knife and pit of the peach down before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing yourself close to him. "I prefer having you all to myself."

Al-Haitham huffs triumphantly and you stay pressed close to him for a while, watching as he returns to his novel. He flips back to his exact page despite the lack of a bookmark.

"I'll be sure to send the invite to Nahida tomorrow."

"Alright."

Two days later, you wake to a message written in beautifully precise handwriting on Al-Haitham's blackboard.

'Can Wanderer be invited too? - Nahida'

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.