#the background is so boring sorry for that

[f1daydreamer]

Hot Coffee, Hotter Driver

---

Driver: Pierre Gasly

Requested: ✔️

---

It was chaos.

Not the loud, explosive kind—but the quiet, creeping kind, where your shoelace betrays you, gravity turns against you, and you find yourself holding a scalding cup of overpriced paddock coffee in the middle of Formula 1’s pre-race morning.

Your job was simple: grab your boss’s coffee from the stand and bring it back to the hospitality suite. That was it. A straight path, no obstacles. Easy, right?

Wrong.

The paddock was bustling. Journalists darted like caffeinated wasps, mechanics wheeled tires with precision, and drivers wove in and out, half-obscured by their PR reps and sunglasses. You walked briskly, dodging camera crews, gripping the coffee like it was sacred treasure.

Until it happened.

Your foot caught on something—a cable, a bag, maybe your own dignity—and suddenly, time slowed. Your arms flailed, your coffee launched forward in a perfect, steaming arc, and you—

SPLASH.

“Merde!” came a very French, very startled voice.

You gasped as the lid popped off the cup, the dark liquid now soaking the front of someone’s pristine white AlphaTauri polo. Your face went pale.

“I—I—oh my God—I am so sorry!” you stammered, looking up.

Blue eyes. Floppy chestnut hair. Smirk of the century.

Pierre Gasly blinked, a slow smile spreading on his lips despite the espresso dripping down his shirt. “Well, that’s one way to get my attention.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I was just saying this morning that I needed something to wake me up,” he said casually, looking down at his shirt, now clinging to his abs. “Didn’t think it’d be this literal, though.”

“I didn’t see you—I mean, I saw you—of course I saw you, you’re—you’re you—but I didn’t mean to—God, you must think I’m an idiot.”

“No,” Pierre said, still smiling. “I think you’re adorable. And your aim is impeccable.”

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You’re not mad?”

He took a step closer, still damp, but utterly unfazed. “Nah. It's just coffee. Now I have a reason to take this off.” He peeled the shirt up and over his head in one swift movement, revealing sun-kissed skin and toned muscles that made you forget how to breathe.

You stared.

He noticed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, grinning wickedly.

Your face turned crimson. “N-no! I mean yes—no—I mean I didn’t mean to look—well obviously I looked—but not like that—!”

“Relax,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You’re cute when you panic.”

You stood there, still clutching the now-empty cup, blinking like you’d been hit by a freight train of charm and cheekbones. The paddock noise faded into the background as he reached for a towel one of the crew handed him, wiping himself off slowly.

“I feel terrible,” you muttered. “I ruined your shirt.”

Pierre glanced at it, then tossed it over his shoulder like it was a napkin. “It was boring anyway.”

“I should buy you a new one,” you offered, trying to salvage your pride.

“Or,” he said, stepping in again, “you can buy me a drink later instead. Preferably not hot and airborne.”

You blinked. “Wait—are you… are you asking me out?”

Pierre raised a brow. “You threw coffee at me. I think the least I can do is let you apologize over dinner.”

You laughed despite yourself. “That’s not how apologies work.”

“It is in France.”

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t.”

He chuckled. “Then we’ll call it fate.”

You looked up at him, heart still racing, but for an entirely different reason now. “Are you always this smooth?”

He leaned in, eyes sparkling. “Only when I’m covered in coffee and talking to a beautiful girl.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “Fine. One drink. But you’re paying.”

Pierre grinned, stepping back and tossing you a wink. “Deal. But next time… maybe aim for my heart instead of my chest.”

You groaned and turned away, but you didn’t miss the way he watched you walk off—still damp, still grinning, and clearly already planning what to wear for your “apology.”

----

[moyazaika]

housewife syndrome

yandere! rockstar x fem! reader

cw; possessive + obsessive behaviour, severe mental instability, paranoia, anxiety, violence, heavy nsfw themes, mdni 18+

genie's notes; commissioned piece by a very sweet anon ♡ thank you so much for trusting me with this absolutely stunning idea. i’ve always been a fan of domestic horror, especially of the spiralling housewife variety, so it was fun to explore a new dynamic and fresh writing style. <3

"welcome home, sweetheart!" the television runs on low volume in the background as you greet your husband with a knowing smile. you run through the motions as you always do, make sure to ask with the most innocence you can muster, "how was your day?"

feroze can make out the sound of gallant applause that indicates you'd been watching reruns of last night's award ceremony.

"such a fucking drag." your husband pulls you into his arms, buries his head into the crook of your neck with a long, satisfied sigh and takes his sweet, sweet time to breathe you in. "couldn't fucking wait to come home to you, meri jaan."

his answer remains the same as it is every other day, and you can't help but smile against his lips when he pulls you in to steal a little kiss; you sigh into his mouth, and feroze is so fucking overwhelmed by gratitude for the familiarity and comfort of this little routine the two of you have seemed to settle down into so well.

"i love when you call me that," you confess; my life.

you know just as well as him that, well—it wasn't always this easy.

"yeah," feroze hums. "i know you do, baby."

you weren't always so lovely for him, were you?

-

you're quiet.

though the two of you are sitting across from each other at the dining table, your attention is clearly elsewhere. conversation is slow, if not stagnant. it's a far cry from how talkative you usually are; and though he would never fucking admit it, least of all to you, he worries, for a fraction of a second, that things are slipping.

"meri jaan?" he sets down his fork very carefully, reaches for your hands over the table.

you blink, pulled away from wherever you'd been lost in your mind and back down to this moment that stretches on before you.

"oh, sorry, my love. what was that?"

feroze watches your eyes quietly track the movement of his fingers, sliding over your wrists, lingering, momentarily, on your pulse—nice and steady—before they intertwine with your own.

your gaze lands on him, then, expectant. he drags his thumb over your knuckles, glad to find they're soft; unmarred by any labour. he loves having you here, tucked away within the walls of this home he built just for you, away from the rest of the rotten world.

such a darling girl like you deserves to have everything taken care of for you. as far as he's concerned, the only thing on your mind should be him.

which is why the silence is beginning to irritate him, now. he's not really upset with you, doesn't have a reason to be, just yet—he's just wondering what it is you're so focused on. where do you keep going back to in that head of yours, and why aren't you here with him?

is this where it all falls apart?

—again?

"rosy?" you try. "is everything alright?"

"yeah," feroze's hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, endearingly patient. "i just wanted to know how your day was."

"ugh, don't remind me." you stick your tongue out. "it was so boring. i woke up so late today and didn't really do anything interesting."

"shit, i'm sorry to hear that, baby."

your husband nods towards the television, still playing from inside the living room across the hall; the screen's bright colours reflect against the glass windows that take up half the wall. though the program is muted, he can still hear the echoes from the cacophony of applause ringing loud and true.

the four hour program's been running on loop on some of the smaller channels, and you really seem to enjoy tuning in, he's noticed.

it would be more difficult not to notice this new habit of yours, really. because if he's been counting right, this is the seventh time you've seen the whole thing through to the end.

"seems like you were at least watching the music thing again."

"well, when my stunning husband won half of the awards," you shrug coyly. "how could i not?"

"flattery won't get you anywhere," feroze deigns, though neither of you mention the involuntary curl to his lips as they lift into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"huh, that's strange," you frown, pull your hands away from his own and make a show of examining the elaborately stacked engagement ring and marital band wrapped around your finger. "if i seem to remember correctly, flattery is exactly what got me this ring."

"oh," he laughs. "is that so?"

"uhuh," you nod, still admiring the rings. they're big and they're flashy and there's no fucking chance anyone could ever miss the sight of them; make the mistake of misunderstanding what they mean. you're so obviously his, and fuck, it suits you so perfectly to belong to him.

i love you, he thinks fiercely. i fucking love you.

"you've got an ego, rosy." your knowing gaze flickers back to him, accompanied by a teasing smile. "bit of a praise kink, too."

"and yet, darling wife," he'll never tire of calling you that; never really overcome the thrill that overwhelms him when he sees you adorned in the markers of his devotion and tucked away all safe and sound. "you're the only person whose words mean anything to me."

"ohh, is that so?" you taunt, "whatever happened to 'flattery won't get you anywhere?'"

feroze takes in the sight of you. you're dressed casual, donned in a baggy old shirt and a pair of his softest sweats hanging low off your hips. comfortable in your own home, as you should fucking feel, you have no makeup on, and your hair is unkempt; overdue for a shower; but fuck if he cares.

feroze decides, within a moment, that he needs you—

now.

"come here, meri jaan. i'll show you."

"you greedy, greedy man," you chastise lightly, rising from your seat. "i've just fed you dinner and you're still salivating at my table."

feroze watches you make the small effort of pushing your chair in, before turning on your heel. you pause in the doorway for a second, spare him a knowing glance over your shoulder; "well? aren't you hungry, darling husband?"

he knows that none of it evades you; the nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. the way his fingers are digging into the edge of the table to keep from sinking inside of you right here. his heart is racing; his pants are tight. though you're so willing to be his now, he remembers it wasn't always this easy.

"my love." feroze grits out, "i'm fucking starving."

you disappear into the hallway, mellifluous laughter like the loveliest song, echoing off the walls—inside of his head, for fuck's sake—as your husband follows faithfully behind you when you lead him into the bedroom.

dinner goes cold on the table. you never touched your plate.

upstairs, minutes later, your husband bottoms out inside of the welcoming warmth of your sweet cunt, just as your fingers brush against the butcher's knife tucked right underneath your pillow.

-

feroze gets you to come twice before he decides he has his fill. he's rummaging through your nightstand for the contraceptives he knows you keep in there. it's got less to do with what he wants and more to do with what he believes is best for the two of you.

it's not that he doesn't want children; he dreams of them often. a little baby swaddled in the softest fabrics, wrapping its entire hand around just one of his fingers. the sound of a second pair of footsteps excitedly running down the hall every time he comes home from the studio, from tour. something more to take care of. to keep you busy.

but your husband knows you.

and though he's always been selfish, he can't risk kids until—well, until he knows you won't try to kill them.

it's taken you years to accept him. he won't undo that.

feroze, so caught up in his thoughts, only really registers the blade until it's slicing into his skin, the sharp edge of it pressing against the side of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

he is disappointed, though by no means surprised, to find you on the other end wielding the knife.

he turns to face you, abandoning his search. you're holding onto the hilt of your makeshift weapon with trembling hands, and though he's suddenly overcome by exhaustion—because, baby, how many more times are you going to pull this—an involuntary shiver runs down his spine at the sight nonetheless.

"jaan," he tries to reason with you in hushed tones; oh, love. "what are you doing?"

you dig the knife in just a little deeper, and he winces; "i hate you, feroze." the words sting, though the relative lack of conviction they’re laced with serves as a promising sign of reconciliation.

"i know, baby. can you please just put the knife down so we can talk like adults?"

he glimpses the almost imperceptible change immediately.

the lines of hesitation on your face; a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. when your hold on the weapon looses just the tiniest fraction of an inch, he wastes no time in gently but firmly prying the knife from out of your trembling hands; tosses it underneath the bed where it lands out of your reach.

he’s getting better at this. gets through to you so much sooner than he used to.

you’re listening, now, aren’t you?

the thought of it makes him oddly proud.

"there we go," feroze says. you're still shaking, and though he wants so fucking desperately to pull you closer and console you—he's learnt to tread the waters carefully in times like these. you're evidently scared. obviously upset with him. he can give you a little room to breathe. “now do you want to use your words and talk to me properly?”

“i keep rewatching the awards show. every other winner had someone there with them. some girlfriend or wife they kissed before they went on stage. you’re the only one who—” you swallow, voice wavering. “i’m the only one who wasn’t there. i’m the only one who’s kept hidden away.”

“you don’t want to show me off.” the tears fall almost immediately. “you’re ashamed of me.”

there are millions of words in the english language, and millions more in his own. he’s put into words every fleeting feeling you’ve made him feel; spun both the most magnificent and mundane of emotions into beautiful songs and compelling lyrics and composed entire albums from nothing—and yet, somehow, in this moment all of it evades him.

"i spend all day stuck here w-waiting for you to come home, and when you do—i keep thinking about all those ceremonies and galas and parties you go to, rooms i can never follow you into—and i hate you. i hate you for how much you hate me—”

“i’m sorry,” feroze’s hands run up your spine, to lightly curl his fingers around the back of your neck. he tilts your head up so that you’re meeting his gaze; leaves you nowhere to look away, “meri jaan.”

his touch is so soft and so, so cold against your skin. you've always run warmer than him; but he thinks you might be burning up right now. maybe you've got a fever; or maybe you're just this delirious even without one. it doesn't fucking matter, doesn't change anything.

“i’m sorry for ever leaving you alone long enough to even think that. let me make it up to you. let me show you how much i adore you. let me build you back up again.”

“you can’t fix this,” you whisper.

he smiles, but it’s strange; doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “so you said the last time.”

-

hours later, you’re less of a sobbing wreck when he’s got you perched in his lap, and all curled up under his chin. “okay… then…” you sniff. your words are somewhat muffled as you bury your face into your husband’s chest. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t mean to hurt you, rosy. i was just scared, i-i promise.”

"i know.” his knuckles wipe away the tears drying on your cheeks. “give me a kiss, please.”

and ever the sweet wife, you do; but your lips are trembling.

fuck, that’s—

shit.

—not going to work, is it?

with a gentle but firm hand, he pushes you down onto the bed and watches you land on your back amidst the dozens of pillows that decorate the bed. even then, the softest thing here is you. he forgets that, sometimes. let this be a lesson, he thinks to himself, to keep your fragility in mind. this is only further proof that you need him more than he'd even realised.

but you picked the right man, didn’t you? because none of that scares him.

the two of you have faced far more difficult times together; this is just a little hiccup in your life as a married couple. some story you’ll look back on and laugh about, when you’re all better.

so when you look up at him with wide, wet eyes and ask, "its just—can you promise me you still love me one more time?”

feroze regards you closely. you’re so beautiful. so fucking perfect that it overwhelms him. sometimes, he wishes you could see yourself the way that he sees you. though he’s always believed that may just scare you; knowing how deep his devotion really runs. things are fine as they are now.

well, mostly.

he has decided that he will retire from music completely, but the two of you can broach that topic when you’re in a better headspace for it. it’s been a long time coming. work keeps the money coming in, and he wants to spoil you but—he wants you to be happy, above all. you don’t really know what you’re asking for right now, but he has every intention of giving you exactly what it is you wished for.

he can give in when you beg to come along with him—but he can come and hide away next to you in this little pocket of the world that solely belongs to the two of you.

"you drive me to madness, my love. nothing about this life means anything if i can’t keep you happy.”

the two of you never had a white wedding; because he wanted to honour your union the right way and celebrate you as his culture deigned. so, yes, he never got to read you any vows, but he'd like to think you've come to know him well enough to understand he doesn't necessarily need to say something so sacred out loud for it to hold true.

"do you understand? i love you," he lowers his forehead against yours. “till death does us apart.”

you put your heart in his hands one more time, looking so small, so vulnerable beneath him. "you promise?"

"i promise," he closes his eyes and revels in the soft, sweeping feeling of your lashes fluttering against his own. "always and forever, meri jaan."

feroze loves you, of this he's certain.

he also knows that you fucking terrify him.

it's a small price to pay, if it means keeping you—

besides, he thinks, reaching once more for the contraceptive pills on the nightstand.

—marriage is all about compromise, is it not?

[beetlerings]

Colored this doodle

Hehe I luv yucky green overlays

[blackkatdraws2]

This little NPC is lost. The Narrator [Black] has come to guide her back to where she needs to be. [Blank Scripts AU]

I imagine Black would be a lot more tolerant toward his NPCs since they're basically just the Dungeons spawns, and by extension, his own creations.

[If you're familiar with manhwas / manhuas that features the dungeon / system genre, you'd be able to understand this AU a lot easier. The majority of my inspiration for worldbuilding came from those specific genres.]

[NOTE: 'Dungeon' is just another term for the Parable. Technically, Black owns a Dungeon and the Parable is just a small part of it. The Dungeon itself is much, much larger.]

For context, the comic below references this post about the Dungeon's children/guard dogs.

[They're more like the immune system since all they do is make sure the (body) is safe.]

[The reason the Narrator [Black] considers them his children is that the Dungeon is feeding off his energy and in turn shares the 'nutrients' to the monsters it produces, which transforms them into an image that resembles his power.]

And the old man below is Joseph!

Joseph is NOT AN NPC! He is a person who exists outside of the Dungeon!

[There are two separate 'worlds' for this AU. Inside the Dungeon (where most of the game-like stuff is happening) and the world outside (pretty much their normal world.)]

[There is a secret third world, and that's our world. Our reality.]

These characters are not actually important or anything, I just made them to make the AU feel more lively. To make a world that exists, you know?

When the Narrator [Black] first established himself in their world, he found a growing problem with homelessness. Not understanding human norms or why this has become a problem in the first place, he offers (tricks) them into working for him as janitors for the Dungeon and they accept for the money.

Most of them left after they got paid, but Joseph was one of the people who stayed. He doesn't have anywhere else to go and has no ambitions in life. He just wishes to live a peaceful life with food and a roof over his head.

Joseph defaults to referring to the Narrator [Black] with feminine terms due to his appearance despite his voice. The Narrator [Black] is not the type to care for such terms anyway so he doesn't care how other people refer to him as long as there's respect.

--------------

This post focuses more on the worldbuilding and background aspects of the AU! There are a lot more in store for the Blank Scripts AU, and I want to explore more on how the characters might interact with their surroundings and how this would work to make a world that makes sense.

It would be so cool if people made self-inserts or OCs for my AU actually. I'd love to see how you guys would work with my stuff. Play around with it like a barbie world for your little barbie dolls. Be canon compliant, be canon divergent, who cares, have fun.

[legolambi]

[imjustspacetrash]

Some fanart for a fanfic that I love! Honest Man by girlpigeon. I'm obsessed with their fics (babe wake up, they just dropped a new fic for serirei week 2024).

Here we have my visual interpretation of Reigen's sister and brother-in-law! Love how they are written in the fanfic, they are so canon to me now, this is how I imagen the Reigen Family to be. And I love the Reigen's dyed hair detail!, I headcanon that his original color is his manga colors.

My Carrd

[autism-swagger]

Behold: the AU I mentioned the other day. This is so self indulgent tee hee ❤️ girls when they figure out a new way to combine their interests.

Tumblr absolutely destroyed the quality. A likely thing for it to do. So like. Click on them if you want to actually read the text.

Reblogging is better than just liking.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

R.I.P. Daisy Johnson you would've loved Good Kid from The Lightning Thief musical.

The almost drowning had to happen to someone okay. Law of equivalent exchange.

Yes Fitz is the Grover figure in this AU. Yes his official camp sanctioned weapon is literally just a hammer. Don't question it.

I don't know why two European kids ended up in a summer camp in New York. Are there Demigod camps other than Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter? Like. For non American Demigods? Or are they just fucked? Was that ever answered? Idk. I didn't read past Heroes of Olympus.

Coulson is Chiron. I can't stop picturing him as a centaur. Somebody please draw that. I can't draw horses.

May would be. Idk Mr. D? Or like in the Mr. D role, but not actually Dionysus. It's not exact.

Lincoln is Thalia though. That is exact.

Garrett is Ares. I don't really have thoughts on the rest of the gods or any of the monsters yet. Aside from the Furies looking like Samuel L. Jackson.

Hive is Kronos. Obligatory you're obsessed with the bloated rotting corpse it's like your Jungkook. I'll find any way to work him in. That tweet that's like "ao3 writers will try to fit their favorite characters into every narrative like their life depends on it. Why he the bus driver all of a sudden 😐"

Yes they run into Steve and Bucky at the Lotus hotel.

Rapid fire other characters: Mack is a Hephaestus kid. Yoyo and Bobbi are Hermes kids. Hunter is an Apollo kid. I have thoughts on all of these. I cannot articulate them.

Trip is Charlie Beckondorf. Guess how that ends.

+ some additional angsty world building! 😁

There was a drawing to go with this. I got distracted watching SpongeBob and didn't finish it. Maybe someday.

[flustersnaggle]

THE WORLD, FULL OF INFINITE POSSIBILITIES

aurelia aquareine (she/her), sage of alchemy — cheerful // creative // perfectionist

general: face skinblend // facekit 1 // facekit 2 // face highlights (highlight N1) // face undertones // hairline // brows // eye preset // lashes // eye base // eye sparkle // eyeshadow (eyeshadows N9 glitter only) // eyeliner // blush—... hey, where did it go? // mouth corners // teeth // body preset // skinblend (skin N13 overlay) // skin tints // nails // wrist tattoo everyday: hair (my wedding stories) // hat (helia hat V3) // earrings // choker // dress // boots formal: hair (my wedding stories) // earrings // necklace // lipstick // dress (high school years) // arm bracelet (realm of magic) // shoes (base game) athletic: hair (fashima fro) & headwrap overlay // earrings (base game) // top (throwback fit) // shorts (daisy shorts V1) // socks (artemis socks) // shoes (incheon arrivals) sleep: bonnet (V2) // robes (vintage glamour) // shoes (spa day) party: hair (lisa low fro) // earrings (ashley earrings) // necklace (poolside splash) // lipstick // dress (naomi dress) // bracelets // shoes swimwear: hair (pam puff V1) // top (island living) // bottom (base game) // bracelet (base game) // feet hot weather: hair (penny puff V3) // earrings (base game) // top (eco lifestyle) // shorts (realm of magic) // bracelet (base game) // shoes (incheon arrivals) cold weather: hair (lisa low fro) // hat (seasons) // earrings // coat // gloves (get to work) // shoes (get together) extras: poses 1 & potion // poses 2 // poses 3 // realm of magic icons rip

thank you! — @atomiclight, @pyxiidis, @okruee, @ddarkstonee, @serawis, @sayasims, @meghewlett, @obscurus-sims, @miikocc, @pralinesims, @xiamdeathx, @goppolsme, @squea, @magic-bot, @crilender, @ms-marysims, @clumsyalienn, @raccoonium, @philosimy, @mysteriousdane, @crypticsim, @sheabuttyr, @aharris00britney, @ayoshi, @mapleseed, @qwertysims, @arethabee, @sentate, @lady-moriel, @makesims, @dearie-sim, @hula-zombie

[yummycrummy]

I just think he's neat

[emicat1159]

Teo is a bit sensitive to movement. Poor guy gets motion sickness a lot, which is why Trari is the one of the two to go on trips usually XD

Bonus:

I reckon this takes place a few days before my last wip of Astor X")

I'm sorry I don't know how to make my story interesting lmfao

[squishosaur]

t4t marriage for your dashboard

[angelwinkteruhashi]

Happy Monday, everyone!

Yesterday, I was going to get groceries for my mom and decided to try and take a few photos, now that the season has more noticeably changed!

Cherry Blossoms really are beautiful, if not fleeting. From how they flutter down, to how they truly show the change of season, it's understandable people would love them! Even if they're only in bloom for a few weeks, that's what makes them so amazing, you know? (o＾▽＾o)🌸

[five-bi-five-mind]

Hiiiiiiiii~

Would you be so kind and share a JJ sneak peek with us if you can? Pleaseeee? 🙏🏽

Hi I fear I only have spicy scenes written of JJ but if you want my latest one for the fic I'm focusing on this weekend... sneak peek below the cut.

“Open.” JJ’s nails dug into the skin of your cheek and before you could even obey, she was forcing you to pry your lips apart. With your mouth open for her she lent further over you. Her spit dripped down into your mouth and the way your eyes widened when you realized what she was doing was a decadent sight for her. 

Her grip softened slightly and you closed your lips, but to JJ’s delight, you didn’t swallow. So this was how obedient you were willing to be for her. JJ’s touch changed for a moment, her thumb swiped gently over your lips, feeling the velvety softness of them while simultaneously enjoying how red and puffy they had gotten from her aggressiveness. “Swallow,” she said in a low, gravely voice and you did just that. 

[emerxshiu]

i still struggle so much drawing the creature in a non gijinka way

also i know the background is horrible but uhhhhh

i have been drawing basically like, the entire week lol to try to lift my mood up since last post, yknow so i at least know i can still draw, and i made a list with stuff to draw, i have a few of em done but i wanna upload them in the same post so it will take a while (its nothing much, just some silly un-shaded quick drawings) i also im doing this one drawing and im trying something different so uh, i very much have no idea of what the fuck im trying to do in that one (it has a bit to do with chaos elfilis as in im tryna remake their gijinka and going crazy on not being satisfied with the designs i came up with and cool ideas i dont have the skill to do)

went in a bit of rant there, huh? well, i just wanted to post something already (i was planning to upload this tmrrw)

uh Jambuhbye! :D

[theshmeepking]

himb ❤️

[krondyrr]

Wanted to do a big pretty artwork for the Hilda finale, but I'm sick and have no ideas and motivation. So here's something simple.

Awful rant about the show, if you're interested: (spoiler free)

I started watching the series back in late 2021, right after the movie was announced. (Which was just my excuse to watch it.)

It was surprisingly good. I was grinding a Royale High event through the entire thing and I still enjoyed it a lot. I think I watched one half of the movie before midnight on new years eve and finished it after. I went out of my way to avoid my family to watch it. I was so hyped, and it was so great. Probably still my favorite movie to this day. I've had two phases where I watched the movie for 5 days straight and never got bored, and I still rewatch it regularly. I LOVE HILDA AND THE MOUNTAIN KING ‼🗣🔥💯

The series itself means a lot to me. I watched it in a difficult time in my life. (It's gotten worse 😊) It was so nice and calm. There weren't even any references to the real world and no fourth wall breaking. It was so nice for me to escape into that little world without any reminders of my own big and scary world, and it still is.

Hilda will always hold such a special place in my heart. I think season 3 was great, and the last episode was awesome.

Also, what do you mean it's been 2 years? Has it really? You sure? Are you for real????

I wanna go back to december 2021 I was so much happier than I am now 😭😭

Thanks to Luke Pearson and his gang for bringing this series to life and giving it a wonderful ending, I will never forget it! Def gonna watch it with my future children. (My reptile collection)

Thank you for listening to my autism rant 👍