#thought it might be good to redo this

[watermelon-eater]

zen // laskar // digit // diesel, i go by many a name

mainly he/him, i alternate between prns but just default to that

indonesian so you will see me posting in and about indo a lot

i guess this part is something of a byf:

im a fucking freak! im a boygirl gay dude who is also into girls in a lesbian but also straight way. if you have a problem with this then go away. i cant believe i have to say that btw

additionally, i'm polyamorous. currently my relationship is closed, and it probably will be for a while; i'm not saying this because i'm looking or anything, it's as a warning. because if you in any way shape or form find it funny to make fun of poly people for any fuckin reason, then please see yourself out, i do NOT want you on my blog.

feel free to dm or send an ask im always happy to receive those :9

i block pretty liberally, if u find urself blocked by me its probably not personal

im pretty sloppy at trigger tagging so watch out for that but i dont usually rb any general triggers (such as gore etc) anyway so

current main interests, feel free to talk to or ask me abt these or tag me in posts w them in it!

shameless (US)

one piece

jjk

my ocs

black leg sanji specifically

art blog: @laskardoodles

[sxyves]

🏷️ - overwhelmed!reader. afab!reader. sub!reader. softdom!hyunjin. cockwarming.

“close your eyes baby, i’ll take care of you.” are the last words either of you say as he enters you.

you’re tired, that’d be an understatement for what you’re feeling like right now, on hyunjin’s lap, him inside of you. you were too lazy to really do anything right now, all you wanted was to feel close around him.

eyes fluttering shut as you rest your head on his shoulder, his hands caressing your back and rocking you back and forth.

“don’t worry about anything, just relax.” he whispers softly in your ear,

relax

that’s all you had to do, nothing was wrong, just you, him, and the soft taps of the rain on your guys’ roof.

coming home tired and wanting nothing but to be right next to him, you couldn’t think of anything else right now, just you and him.

“hyunjin” you mutter out quietly after a while, he responds with a small hum.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.”

“no— i just feel like i’m being too sensitive and annoyi-”

he interrupted you,

“shhh”

“don’t be sorry for anything, i’m not upset at you, __.”

“i know, i just- felt so—”

“__, did you not just hear what i said?” he said, a little more stern now. you went silent. “i said it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about anything right now, just.. calm down, focus on yourself.”

you nod slowly, sinking into his lap again,

he was right, calm down.

[spoiledskullz]

Actually look at this comparison LOL

2020 versus 2024 💀💀💀💀

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

trying to psych myself up to finally do oc refs by doing fandom-related refs instead: volume 1

wanted to update my yuma from whatever tf this au is so he was a bit more unique... takes inspo from a lot of different things while also trying to be its own sorta thing? which is fitting given the au ;)

bonus chibi now that i'm also figuring out how tf to do chibis lol:

[lilypixels]

Gonna do something crazy and make a new save from scratch (aka edit some things and eject that which I don’t want)

Give me some townies who will survive the culling to start process with

[shirogane-oushirou]

instead of continually making new posts, i'm just going to rb this when the medical system has failed me in some way KJNkjankjn.

[loumauve]

Obligatory but no less meaningful honesty hour ask: what is one pretty cool thing that's happened today in your life?

I managed to remember the magic-circle start for the new crochet project (a dice bag for my cousin who has turned out to be a DnD nerd to my absolute delight) and figure out the amount of stitches I need to increase by in each new round.

which.. is all stuff I've known before, and done a bunch of times, it's just been over a year since I last seriously worked on anything crochet related, so getting back into it and figuring out some vague idea of a pattern that might work for a two-layer bag with scale stitches on the outside layer.

crochet in the round requires a forever-surprisingly high and tiring amount of math to figure out how many stitches you need for those and where to place them etc etc etc, so getting this right on my first attempt in a long while has been a real good feeling

[humblemediagenius]

While I wait for my family to let me go visit my wife again, I remembered ss77 again. I need to revive them

[im-still-a-robot]

Hunting Doves

[lifesliced]

[stellewriites]

hello! not sure if someone beat me to it, but i'm curious about tonight the foxes hunt the hounds!

hi sy!!

someone did,, BUT!! i love to yap about this fic because it’s been in my drafts for so long and it’s a concept and ship (jaytim) i’m super passionate about, so here’s another snippet

“Found him at the grounds,” Tim explained as he hefted the android onto their work table. “He’s still alive, surprisingly. I’m gonna fix him up after Pauline’s appointment, let him recharge for the time being.”

Cass tilted her head at the ripped-up robot and started signing, her wristbands lighting up as the words started to glow above her gesturing hands.

Police ‘Bot. Is this a good idea?

Tim frowned as he read the words and looked back at the robot, finally noticing the flaked GCPD label he’d missed on his first examination at the garbage dump. He swore.

Cop bots had changed shape and style more and more often over the years as those in charge dabbled in what seemed to work the best to intimidate those Below but reassure those Above, it was hard to keep track and recognise them straight away, especially for Tim.

Cass wiped at the battered chest to clear away the mud and dust, leaving the white lettering clear as day.

“I’m not sure,” he answered her question with a helpless shrug before aiming a contrite smile at her. “But I couldn’t leave him, and I can’t pull him apart either. I'm sorry.”

Sorry for dragging you into this, for not asking before I did it, for everything I bring along with being me – it all went unspoken, but they both knew what Tim meant. Apologising wasn’t new to Tim, Cass knew full well by now.

wip ask game

[sunfloralchaos]

No one question why I'm completely from start to finish redoing one of my zine pieces a couple weeks before deadline I have decided I do not like it anymore and can do better

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

heard the "encore!! a performance was demanded of me and now i have delivered" funtime foxy audio from tiktok again and now im wondering if i should make marvin..........evil 🤔 either they WERE a bad guy then became reformed or they were normal and chill with the other egos but something happened so they went on a villain arc

[lunareel]

A friend and I have been working on an idea for a Luigi's Mansion Sprit Tracks au. Bowser and King Boo have teamed up to kidnap Princess Peach and takeover the Mushroom Kingdom. It's a shame that King Boo never intends for Bowser to see the plan to fruition. He steals Bowser's body through the use of a strange crown and he sets his sights on ruling both the Ghost and the Living Realms. (The Ghost Realm is based on by the weird dimension King Boo brings Luigi into during Luigi's Mansion 2 for his final fight.)

The Ghost Train is an idea we had where what if there is a ghost dedicated to taking new ghosts to the Ghost Realm from the Living Realm. We also just love trains so we just combined the two (drawing trains on the other hand is just pain.)

Below the keep reading is a page of cut sketches I did when initially drafting this.

Sleepy Time hero: Pajama outfit for Luigi, potentially have Ancient Dragon plush as a weapon. Might come back, but if it does redo pose and probably remove the plush.

Bowser colorations I either thought didn't look good or were too visually busy.

Original train design and coloration. Didn't have the silhouette I wanted and the coloration didn't mesh well together.

[boltwrites]

I haven’t recently thought about Hugh Jackman but this Movie has recently given me hunger™️

Reader/Logan fic hurt/comfort where Logan knew reader in his world (but reader never met Logan in their world) and tries to ignore them out of guilt but reader is persistently trying to be friends w him. Eventually Logan opens up about what happened in his world with reader…

A/N: so uh. i originally wrote this as headcanons in bullet point format but tumblr didn't like it so i had to redo some shit and uh. anyway. it's not my normal fic quality so i'm sorry for that.

in other author's note news - lmk if you want the recipe.

You smiled at Logan across the table as Wade rambled on about something or other. You didn't know him - well, other than what Wade had spouted off about him before inviting you to this make-birthday party after the first one went to shit - but you wanted to.

You didn't exactly know why you wanted that. Maybe just curiosity? Wade did say he'd be living with him for the foreseeable future, and as his neighbor, you should introduce yourself and be friendly, right?

But it was kind of more than that. He was hot. definitely, very hot. Maybe not your usual type - you weren't typically into older men. But there was just something about him. Something magnetic.

Either way, he'd definitely avoided you at that party. spent most of his time sulking in the corner, talking to Al or sometimes Colossus.

You'd walked up to him, smile on your face, and introduced yourself. He'd barely looked at you.

"Nice to meet you," he'd replied, his tone gruff and dismissive. By the way he spoke it sounded less like it was nice to meet you and more like you were inconveniencing him with your mere existence. Like he'd been dreading the idea of you coming over and introducing yourself.

"Wade says you helped stop the time ripper," you tried, willing yourself to ignore how shitty he was treating you. Wade had mentioned that this man - Logan - was a little rough around the edges. rude. A drunk, even. Maybe he just wasn't good with people in general.

"Yep," he replied, shooting you a glare over the glass of - was that pure fucking bourbon? - he was sipping out of. You tried your best not to let it get to you - but you also knew how to take a hint. He wasn't interested in talking. That shot straight to your stomach like a bullet made of embarrassment and guilt, but whatever.

It's fine. you were younger than him by a decent margin. He could probably tell just by the look in your eyes that you were interested in him as more than just a friend. He probably just wanted to shut that shit down as quickly and efficiently as possible. You weren't gonna blame him for that. You've done the same for several weird men in the past - including Wade, before he got the hint and the two of you became fast friends. You weren't necessarily interested in being his post-Vanessa rebound, and he respected that.

So, that's fine, you'd just be nice to Logan. He could be your friend, too. He was rooming with Wade and Al, after all. It would be good to make friends with him.

"Hey!" You smiled when he opened the door a few days after the party. You stood there, hands currently occupied by a tin foil-wrapped package.

"What do you want?" Logan asked, looking you up and down with more paranoia than you'd expected. You thought that maybe he was just uncomfortable with your advances, but this time, it was like he was searching for something. What, you didn't know.

"I just wanted to give you this," you replied, thrusting your gift into his hands - the smooth glass of the pie mold contrasting with the brief brush of his calloused hands. You tried not to shiver.

"It's a pie," you continued on, even as Logan stared off into the distance, at something you couldn't see. "When I saw what you were drinking at the party, I thought you might like it. It's a family recipe. Pumpkin pie with a shitload of bourbon. As a welcome to the neighborhood kind of thing."

You offered him an awkward sort of smile, a little shrug. He blinked, snapping himself out of his thousand yard stare only to glare at you like you'd just offered him a dead animal instead of a home-baked pie. Your blood briefly turned to ice as you wondered if maybe this man was actually sober and you'd mistake the iced tea in his glass as pure liquor. As if Wade ever had that sort of shit in his apartment.

"I-" he looked down at the pie, then up at you, taking a breath as if he wanted to say more, but instead shaking his head, like he was knocking some bit of cobwebs or old dust loose. "Thanks."

He nodded at you in acknowledgement, then slammed the door in your face. Great.

Wade wasn't much help either. He'd returned the pie dish and you'd wrung your hands and asked him if you'd done something that made Logan hate you. The dish was empty, but your stomach churned at the thought of the man just taking a knife and scraping the whole thing into the trash. You'd even made the crust by hand, too.

"Oh, fuck no!" Wade scoffed, shaking his head. "Are you kidding me? Listen, if there's anything I know about our not-so-furry friend, it's that he can put up with a metric fuckton of asinine shit. I mean - he's living with me! Do you know how many times he's used his little clawsies to hole-punch my organs? Like - so many!" Wade waved his arms for emphasis. "If he really hated you, he wouldn't just sulk around about it like a teenager - no! He'd hurt you! Like the kind of teenager that would shoot up their local high school!"

You rolled your eyes at Wade, but you knew that's just how he was. No filter, all idiocy. "Did he - did he at least try the pie," you asked, voice a little more hopeful than you'd meant for it to sound.

"Try it - fuck! That man has full-tilt sprinted at me on all fours and I've never seen him so animalistic. He was eating that pie like it would crawl inside his dick itself and pull out an orgasm. I swear - and may Thor strike me dead and then mourn my fried corpse - that he actually growled when I asked for a slice."

You didn't believe Wade for a second, but fuck. at least that made you feel better. You offered him your thanks and a sweet smile as you received your dish and promised to make him something "Wolvie" wouldn't hoard when you brought something over next. You promised to try your best.

Really, what you'd try your best at was winning this shy Wolverine over to your good side. You didn't want to force him to be your friend, obviously - but if you had made a bad impression, even if that impression was solely based on the fact that you were also friends with Wade - you wanted to make it right.

So you did everything you could. Baked and cooked and offered the results up whenever you could afford the extra ingredients. Made sure to snatch up any packages bound for Wade's apartment so your notorious Amazon thief didn't have the chance to. You even dog-sat that nasty looking creature Wade had adopted - she was very sweet, but you had nightmares about that tongue.

It all came to a head, one day. One day when you almost brained yourself walking up the stairs.

You'd been holding grocery bags - supplies to make your perfected mac and cheese recipe - head down as you ascended the steps. That was, until you ran into what felt like a brick wall. Or, an iron one. Your shoulder smacked whatever it was and you jolted backwards, gasping as you dropped the bag you were holding to cling to the railing-

Only to catch and grip tight at thin fabric as a firm, steel-strong arm wrapped around your waist. You finally caught your breath, lungs filling and then immediately vacating as you locked eyes with none other than Logan.

"Fuck."

Both of you said it. But you gasped, it, breathless and dreamy. Meanwhile he spat it, like he knew something like this would happen, and he'd been planning his whole day to avoid it.

As soon as you found your footing again, he threw his arm away from you like you'd burned him. Like your very existence was offensive to him, somehow. He manages to spin you around as he let go of your waist, disorient you as you sputtered, glancing after him.

The stairs were littered with groceries - blocks of cream cheese, butter, cookies for the crust - fresh fruit for the filling. A bag of sugar had exploded, its contents dusting the next landing like snow. All of this - ingredients you'd bought, with money you'd worked your ass off to afford - and the man you'd been trying to impress stepped in that puddle of sugar, granules crackling under his boot.

You damn near saw red.

"Logan!" you snapped, your voice harsh, crisp as it echoed through the stairwell. Fuck. You hated using that voice - but it made him freeze on the spot.

He turned to look at you - eyes wide, as if he was some child who'd been caught in a lie. But also - that gaze was knowing, somehow. Like he knew what you used that voice for. What it meant for him.

You sighed, tried to regain your composure. It was fine. You were fine. When you opened your eyes, you addressed him with even, annunciated words:

"Why do you hate me?"

Even as you tried your best to dull your voice of emotion, it slipped through. A waved of your throat, the hint of water in your eyes. You hated it - this man didn't hold that power over you. You just - you were used to being liked. That's all.

Logan looked at you like you'd shot him.

"What?" he asked, just as breathless as you felt. You thought you detected just a hint of hurt in that syllable.

"It-it's just-" you tried not to let yourself waver, but you stuttered as you spoke. "I've been trying to just - to be your friend, to be a good neighbor. Like I am to Wade, like we - we hang out, sometimes. But you- you're just - I feel like you've been kind of rude to me."

You sounded like a child.

Logan took a breath. A deep one, as if this were a confrontation that had been a long time coming (which it was) and that he was prepared to have a conversation he'd dreaded (which was really what got you - if he really just disliked you, why would he care enough to prepare something? What was going on?)

He turned around - gathered up all your dropped groceries - and started walking up the stairs, passing you and continuing his way to your shared floor. He'd previously been on his way out, so you didn't do much except stare at him until he was nearly half a flight ahead of you and your brain finally switched on again.

He led you to the apartment he shared with Wade, nodded as he held the door open for you. It felt strange - you hadn't been inside the apartment since the party. You'd always felt too nervous to ask Wade if he wanted to continue your usual game nights. Too intimidated by Logan.

He set the groceries on the counter, and practically sank into the couch. You perched on the chair opposite it, still not quite believing that he had let you in. That you were going to talk. He breathed in deeply, steadying himself before he spoke, eyes still glued to the floor.

"I'm not from here. 'M sure Wade told you that much," he glanced up, only to nod in your direction. You nodded back.

"My world - timeline, whatever the fuck - I killed it. Everyone I loved, everyone I cared about - they all died. Because of me."

You sat in rapt attention as his shoulders tensed, his jaw flexed. This was a lot, for him. You didn't really understand why he was telling you about it, but it was important to him. So you listened.

"Every timeline is different. At least, that's what the science says. Ones that are closer together - might have the same people show up at around the same time. Might be - people I knew. People I - cared about."

Logan glanced up, again. Caught your eyes with his and swallowed harshly.

"You're - one of them. One of the people I lost."

"Oh," you breathed, because now it all made sense. The strange looks, the curt conversations - even the thousand yard stare. You were triggering his memories of a horrible time of his life with every step you took in his direction. And you didn't even know it.

"I'm so sorry," You whispered, trying your best to quell any tears that might form sympathetically. No wonder he kept pushing you away. You were a walking PTSD trigger.

"No-" he gasped, shaking his head as he stood up, like he'd been shocked upright. "No, it's not -"

He cleared his throat, shook his head like he was trying to find the right words.

"I know I was pushing you away. And it is - hard, to see you again. But - I want to see you. I want to get to know you, again," if you didn't know any better, you'd think that there were tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

"You made the pie, you know. The pumpkin pie. I was only there for the one Thanksgiving, but I remember it. You swore you'd cooked off all the liquor, but Xavier made you promise only the adults would get a slice."

He grinned at you, then - wide, real. It was pretty, that smile. You could imagine recognizing it, in another life.

"None of the kids got any. Too good for them, anyway," he took a step towards you, and you rose from your seat, legs only a little wobbly.

"That's good," you breathed, voice as shaky as your knees. "I use vodka in the crust, too."

"I know," Logan grinned, a hand grasping yours, his smile somehow wider than before.

You wondered, as you strode forward into a crushing hug against his chest, if it felt so right in every universe.

[just-zy]

Cursed Bloodsucker

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: A day of the week, you'd think curses and hexes was all on the same day, but surely it wasn't that bad.. You had a girlfriend, didn't you?

A/N: I feel good tonight, and I feel like I didn't do pretty shitty here..

Warnings!: ermmm....ooc wednesday probably..

Masterlist

Being a vampire had its perks, but everything seemed to be..a downside for a certain individual today, specifically, friday. One might say, 'Oh, but how bad can it be?', well...

"O–Ow, Jesus Christ, easy on the stitches Wednesday.."

"If you'd just listen to what I had told you, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

Waking up early wasn't a problem for the vampire, so instead of listening to Wednesday, she decided to sleep in, and look where that got the bloodsucker. Running off to her second period while trying to neat out her wrinkled vest. She couldn't see well really, having her satchel slinging on her shoulder for dear life, her sunglasses almost falling off before she got inside the classroom, what a sight to see.

Disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, slipping satchel, she thought it couldn't get worse.

She might've jinxed that one, that for a moment she thought she was cursed for living on specific days.

Walking was supposedly calming for the vampire, but today just seemed to be a day you wanted to get over with.

"Okay, what's for lunch, ooh– gimme!"

"Y– Y/N! Stop—!"

She was determined to have a bite of whatever Enid was having for lunch, unknowingly, the utensil Enid decided to use for todays lunch was silvered utensils. Why did that school have silvered utensils anyway? Well, labels. They have labels.

She reacted instantly to the object, dropping the spoon, immediately. "Fucks sake! Wha–"

"That's silver!"

If only she didn't let her intrusive thoughts win for once, maybe then she'd live another day.

Another problem, a full moon was happening tonight, what a coincidence!

She felt too worn out to even go out and feed, but she just had to, didn't she.

That same night, she did quite have an interaction with a shifting wolf, then gets mauled. What are the chances, huh? Thankfully, Wednesday was there to save the day! Or night.

"I feel exhausted, thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow..I don't always have the best luck on friday's I swear, I'm cursed."

"Perhaps it's because you think you are."

Wednesday tidies the kit and stitches on the vampires bed, making her way in the bathroom and began cleansing her hands filled with the blood of her girlfriend.

"No– I really do have bad lucks on fridays.. Remember that one time I had an essay due? And I accidentally poured coffee, everywhere. Then there was that time when I slipped on the stairs and nipped my fucking tooth, and had my lip busted. But, I guess– they weren't as bad.. Because I had a lovely, gorgeous girlfriend to help me recover from all of that.."

The raven sat next to the vampire, scrutinizing her lover. She had a light smirk plastered on her lips, she leaned forward, your lips mere inches away from touching. You waited, you always did. You closed your eyes, awaiting her plump crimson lips making contact with yours, but that didn't happen. Tonight was different, she felt like tormenting you. She had only pecked your cheek.

What. The. Fuck.

Bothered, you gazed at her as she began inspecting the stitches on your arm. "Stitches look horrendous on you, Cara Mia."

"You're just pure evil, like the devil, did you know that?" You grumbled, unhappy that she still hasn't given you the one thing that you were waiting for all day, considering she was out with Eugene the whole day.

"Some consider me as Lucifer's daughter, but that isn't new, no."

Her eyes looked rather, luminous under the moons emitting light, you were ready to do everything she'd order you to, even let her redo the perfect stitches she's done just so she could have all her attention back at you, while she enjoys at what she does best. Being your girlfriend.

You didn't dare disrespect her, or even trespass her boundaries and limitations. Never in your life would anything hurtful leave that mouth of yours, you love her too much to do so.

Your gaze didn't leave her still figure, if anything it made you more focused on her, and only her. Your fingertips grazing on her pale skin, feeling her burgundy lips on your finger, to your desperate bloodied lips.

Fridays in the morning were a no, but the night time was an exception.

______+______

A/N: Wednesday has my heart, but she's soo difficult to write for sometimes 💔 this is a makeup for the recent imagine 😌