#thoughts and stuff ahead ->

[artbyfuji]

someone asked for handwriting headcanons.

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[skitskatdacat63]

Every time I read Fernando cursing in fic, I can only think about this clip and then my brain short-circuits

[burningcheese-merchant]

Wake up, BurningCheese/GoldenSpice babes, new poorly drawn blorbos just dropped

They look cooler in my head, I swear.

the images didn't show up the first time wtf lol

The kids are finally here, yay. I promised I'd show you them, and I finally stopped being an asshole and followed through. Almost got 200 followers and I'm very grateful for it - really, I'm nobody. I'm just some clown who says dumb stuff and makes dumb memes and writes cringey stories, and yet I convinced almost 200 people to tune in. Thank you all so much, users on here and anons in my inbox alike. As a token of appreciation, you can all endure my rambling about my OCs and witness a person in their early 20s draw like a 12 year old.

The boy is Pepper Jack (or Pepper Jack Cookie). He's the firstborn and older than his sister by a few years. He takes after his mother in a lot of ways, primarily in her appearance (save for nabbing his father's red eyes). He's incredibly bright (and a smartass lol), preferring to think his way out of conflict rather than fight his way out... not that he's above violence at all, if that glaive doesn't give it away lol. He harbors a deep sense of love and loyalty towards his family and his peoples, and carries the weight of his responsibilities and heritage with as much confidence and poise as he can muster. (There are/will be times where he stumbles, of course. He's not perfect. He struggles a lot more than he lets on, really. But he tries his best, for everyone's sake.)

The girl is Matar Paneer (or Matar Paneer Cookie). Again, she's the younger one by a few years. She was all but made in her father's image, save for inheriting her mother's eyes. She's a little firecracker: lively and fun-loving and stubborn as a mule. She doesn't ask "can I have/do this thing", she tells you "I'm going to have/do this thing". Golden is proud as anything to see her daughter be so greedy... until that greed comes into conflict with her and Spice's authority lol. But she's a good kid, despite being such a handful. She has an enormous heart and is not afraid to stand up for others/what's right, and she loves her parents and brother more than anything in the world. She might doubt her own capabilities, she might secretly fear that she's not strong enough to do what she needs to... but she keeps pushing anyway, because she'd honestly choose death over quitting.

Your eyes are not deceiving you, Pepper Jack's wings are blue lol. There's an actual reason for that. And that USO (Unidentified Sitting Object) in Matar Paneer's hair is a lotus (the cheese one in the GCK decor set lol). There's a reason for that, too. I thought it would be cool to give Jack a glaive and swap out the normal blade for that of a khopesh sword (glaives are not Egyptian, they only saw use in Asia and Europe, but I just HAD to give him a glaive), to add that Egyptian touch. Paneer's supposed to be wearing a pattu pavadai, it's a traditional Indian dress for young girls. It's a blouse plus a skirt. She's holding katar, Indian knives (Cilantro Cobra has them, too). And her hair's supposed to be in a low ponytail.

Merchant thinks that if they explain what their terrible drawings are supposed to convey, people will understand their intended vision and the pain will stop

I sat down and did research into both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for the sake of drawing inspiration for them both. I'll explain in detail in another post, but basically: both of them take after one Egyptian god and one Hindu god each. Golden takes after Ra and Spice takes after Shiva, so I figured I'd follow along that line.

Please flood my inbox with questions about them now. I've really been dying to talk about them for ages now. I've drafted extensive character sheets for them both, I even made up in-game descriptions for them lol. They're my little fankid blorbos and I love them :') I hope you all come to love them, too

(Also, I'm sorry they're on lined paper. I'm visiting family rn and that's the only paper my grandmother has in her house. I'd have to drive to a stationery to get printer paper and I'd really rather not drive in this particular country lol (shit roads, even shittier drivers). I'll doodle them on printer paper whenever somebody remembers to bring me some)

[canisalbus]

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

[authenticcadence18]

Yall we are actually getting new phineas and ferb this year I just remembered and am feeling like. Giddy, 2010s era joy about it 🥺🥺

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Dean and Maedhros in their own versions of hell.

Dean and Maedhros as older brothers who refuse to leave their little brothers alone in the world.

Dean and Maedhros who reforge themselves in the armour of their pain.

Dean and Maedhros making choice after choice, kill after kill advertantly and inadvertently, wanting to regret but being unable to because at least their little siblings are alive.

Dean and Maedhros tired but fighting on

Dean and Maedhros as the best of the best. Unreachable. Untouchable.

Dean and Maedhros making allies left right and centre in a final push

Dean and Maedhros who know they’re doomed by try anyway.

Sam and Maglor taking up the mantle their big brothers left. Ill fitting. Lonely.

Sam and Maglor doomed from birth wishing they weren’t so.

Sam and Maglor making choice after choice because everyone might be willing to let their big brother suffer, but they never will.

Sam and Maglor who’ve had that choice taken away one too many times and never forgiving themselves

Sam and Maglor following their brother’s footsteps even when it tears at their throat because they can’t fail them again.

Sam and Maglor knowing their brothers are in hell.

Sam and Maglor having to watch themselves fail and someone else succeed. Never thinking of being anything but thankful for it. Amazed their brother forgave them.

Sam and Maglor at the end of everything alone. Their big brother dead. Nothing but grief in his wake.

Sam and Maglor living on because they made a promise, they have a purpose to fulfil, and they won’t let their brother’s pain be for nothing.

Dean, Maedhros, Sam, and Maglor fighting tooth and nail against their fates until they’re dragged kicking and screaming. These brothers who didn’t know what they were getting into, but it’s too late now.

But they’ll pull every scrap of good they can out of it.

What choice do they have?

John and Fëanor weeping over the fates they brought on their children.

John and Fëanor consumed with madness and vengeance, pulling their sons into their vendetta, no matter the cost.

John and Fëanor dooming their sons to a fate worse than death.

John and Fëanor knowing what they’ve done is unforgivable.

John and Fëanor whose sons sometimes can’t figure out if they love or hate them.

Dean and Maedhros so so tired at the end of it all. A final death is their only release.

Sam and Maglor as the ones who watch them and have to survive.

…At least we know Sam gets to see his big brother again.

[multiversal-pudding]

Concept: Danny in Phantom form following some level of toon physics/having malleability humans generally don’t even beyond intentional shapeshifting, and Danny having the odd Pomni moment where he’s just “Ok I guess my body does That now?…”

[affluent-havoc]

It's time for the fiend! Spoilers of course

For one, Syo here actually breaks the formula I have with these designs, Syo not really working or going out most of the time unless she's heavily disguised. However, I tried my best to ensure she was given some love! So, for her "casual" attire, it's rather simple looking. It's got some LORE though with Syo trying to reform from her murdering days and Komaru helping out in making this outfit! Most of the materials are just thrifted such as the boots with the rest being slightly modified. It holds up rather poorly and has it's flaws. However, Syo seems to like it. Toko, not so much. Toko finds it ugly, no matter how much Komaru tries to give her the puppy eyes, asking for Toko to give it a chance. I also want to take note the bracelet she has on as well as the hat. I thought it would also be cute if Komaru made her a little friendship bracelet. Toko also has one but she finds it childish to just be wearing it out an about (she's not really into much jewelry anyway). Thus, Toko just keeps it on her nightstand. Syo, however, fears nothing and has no shame. Speaking of which, the hat. I was a little lazy with the details but it is indeed one of those "Woman love me, Fish fear me" hats. Syo did the embroidery on it (Syo being oddly good with crochet and sewing) and Toko despises. And, the worst part is that Syo did an amazing job on it which makes Toko hate it even more whenever she ends up in it after Syo finishes fronting. Toko's at least a bit grateful though that Syo doesn't go out that much. Toko is already mortified waking up in the outfit. It'd be way worse to be waking up in one of the ugliest garments present in the apartment while in public. As for Syo's "work" attire, it's just Toko's attire for work with slight Syoifications (Jackifications?) made with the zipper being undone revealing a little pouch she has on, and sleaves rolled up. She even has Toko's purse worn slightly different as well! Thought it would be cute to do! Also, for the pouch, Her iconic scissors are absent, being held deep in a vault somewhere with Byakuya as a safety precaution. Syo doesn't mind too much though. For one, she knows they're safe even though she likes to joke that Byakuya's doing unspeakable things with them which he just sighs at. Additionally she's not planning on murdering anyone anymore as I feel she holds pride in her killing SPECIFICALLY with those scissors. So, she wouldn't be using any random pair. But also, her being reformed and all. Besides, the scissors being held in the care of Byakuya it's not because of the potential of Syo starting all over again with the murders anyway. It's more about the potential of the whole "Toko is Genocider Syo and is a serial killer" thing coming out and as a way of showing that Byakuya does care for Toko, aloofness or not. I like to headcanon that, though footage of the Killing game were indeed broadcasted, for one, the Future Foundation were the main people to see it. Additionally, the average civilian would probably not a bit too busy trying to save their own lives than to be keeping up with the news regarding the Ultimate's in Hopes Peak. Not saying that some of that info wouldn't be able to get out. Some of it certainly could have and added to the despair and all. As to regards on where the footage is held, it's with Future Foundation in partner with Byakuya. Perhaps a bit of Kyoko their too and a bit of Makoto as well though I feel all the survivors pitched in on having the say on what to do with it. After all, it IS the recording of all their Hopes Peak trauma, though I don't think they'd want to destroy it oddly enough. This concept of course has room to change but these are the main thoughts Plus, it's fun to think about as, with Syo in the picture in this AU, the concept of whether the people know or don't know about the whole "notorious serial killer Genocider Syo is sorta just an alter of Toko Fukawa" is something that has to be addressed to SOME extent .

For her physical build, it's just Toko's. What really changes is the undergarments anyway. Though they are not colored her, they are very much bright red, very garish. All of her undergarments are which contrasts with Toko's more frilly and pretty undergarments. One other bit to mention is Syo's hair! It's nothing too crazy, just Toko's hair out of the pony tail and ruffled to high hell! Syo makes it work though.

That's Syo done! Hope I did her justice! Tried my best ;-; (1) | (6)

[maid-of-the-golden-deer]

i feel like everyone needs to see these two pictures

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Late Night Talking

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nayruwu]

I wont lie, guren, shinya and mahiru as mlp ponies sounds awesome

i finished them!! yay!!! the catastrophic trio as fucking My Little Pony characters, featuring unnecessarily detailed cutiemarks. 🐎

please welcome with me, Guren as Crimson Lotus,

Mahiru as Midday,

and Shinya as Deep Night. (i guess he could've also been Midnight, but the little pastel ponies often seem to have double names)

i'm just kidding. of course i made him one anyway.

this would have been massively easier (and quicker...) if i had just drawn them as actual mlp style ponies, but horse anatomy is just too gnarly, i couldn't resist. i like horses. sigh.

either way, i think it's awesome how you can just translate their names into english, and BOOM, you have a pony name.

[deoidesign]

Hii! I have been recently getting more and more obsessed with your art and webcomic and was wondering if I could use your art as like a profile picture? (With credit!!) If not that's perfectly fine! :)

yeah you can use my art for whatever as long as you're not stealing it or selling it

I don't mind if people print my art out for themselves either. I do sell prints, but it doesn't bother me either way

In general I don't post anything that I haven't made my peace with all that comes with sharing my art publicly! So feel free to use it as you please pretty much.

Giving me credit for the things I've made is respectful and helps me in my career, and I would hope that most people intend to respect my work... And the people who don't respect my work were never going to whether I asked or not.

I make my work for other people to enjoy it, I want you to enjoy it!

[biggerbagingos]

vr is so expensive because they knew if it were affordable I'd just end up sitting in vrchat all day playing with my giant virtual tits

[ladynicte]

Just finished reading the Mark of Athena and just started reading the House of Hades and man, can you imagine being Hazel during all this, especially talking about Nico.

Hazel is displaced in time, Nico is the only other person who can possibly understand that, Hazel has lived in both The Underworld and then back in the surface, Nico is the only other person who has done that, Hazel is a Child of Pluto, Nico is the only other Child of The Underworld left.

Hazel only shares being seen as a bad omen, and a bringer of bad news everywhere with Nico. They share having scary powers that seem capable of only bringing pain.

Children of Neptune are only seen as bad signs on New Rome, but they aren't there anymore.

At the end, Nico is effectively the only family that Hazel has left.

She never had a present dad of any sort, she still doesn't, she didn't have any siblings back then, and her abusive mother died together with her 70 years ago.

Nico as a half-brother is everything that Hazel has left in that department.

And then, before she even gets back to Camp Jupiter, she's already told that he has been kidnapped, and she doesn't know where, but she's too busy fighting to keep her city going, and her friends alive.

Then, when she's finally allowed to actually think about her missing brother for more than two seconds, and she lets her friends know because they are supposed to be her friends, they are all supposed to be on the same side, that her brother has been kidnapped, some of them don't even want to go save him.

And Hazel is told that her brother's life, her only family's life, just isn't worth the risk until Nico proves himself to be vital for the quest.

Whenever Hazel shows herself annoyed at how they are all treating Nico's kidnapping as something that can be dealt with later that isn't that crucial or primordial or important, that they can just come over last minute and free him.

They just sorta wave her off, and give her plain apologies. They reassure her at times for sure, but there must be something so isolating and maddening about being treated like what you are worried about isn't real.

They try to make her feel better because they care for her, but none of them are seeing what she's seeing, none of them are processing that her only family might just die in a couple of days, and her friends keep forgetting they are even supposed to be saving him.

There's nobody else in that ship who can understand what Hazel is going through.

The rest of the seven are constantly gambling with Nico's life, and saying, well hopefully we will be there in time, and if we aren't, well, don't think about it too much.

For which, Hazel has got no other choice, but to nod and go along with it, because it's either arriving just in the nick of time to save her brother, or not arriving at all.

Eventually, when she finally does see her brother again, Nico is painfully thin, with deep purple eyebags, and a faraway gaze, deadly pale, having issues walking and eating and even just talking.

Hazel's brother went through Tartarus without her even knowing and he came back with a part of him completely broken off, beyond salvaging.

And nobody else cares.

Just so lonely, to be the only person who cares. Having something so so important to you that nobody else sees in any way. So lonely being the only person defending what you care about.