#very really silly family

[ci-wi]

buddy + daddies ... stuffs

[artuurle]

because today has been a Bizzyboy kick for me i decided to sketch my hcs about the height and builds of these guys. who knows if i draw them like this again or iterate upon the designs though.

Also calling out how horribly I dressed Grujaja. theres a reason i did it but its still foul XC

[the-random-phan]

Ectoberhaunt Day 13

Isekai: Old Hero New World

[copia]

THIRTY-ONE DAYS OF GHOST ⛧ DAY ONE

first song you heard — Mary On A Cross

September 1969; Papa Nihil and the beginning of the Ghost Project take to the stage at the Whiskey a Go Go club in Los Angeles, under the watchful eye of Sister Imperator. Fifty-three years later, in Tampa, Florida, Papa Emeritus the Fourth performs Mary On A Cross, unaware that he is singing the story of his parents—and that of himself.

[bonefall]

weird question, but in your rewrite do you keep tree’s mediator role, or do you think he’d be better suited as an educator? do you keep the mediator role at all/is the mediator skyclan exclusive?

I'm honestly considering if it's even a good idea at all.

For the record, I have totally completed designs and art for BB!Leafstar and BB!Waspstar, it's just a matter of opportunity for when I work on their profiles. With those two, I'm going to be gathering most of the big changes done to BB!SkyClan in one place; Firestar and Brokenstar rebuilding it, the Ancestor Rats, Leafstar's death by poison, Waspstar's ascent and xeir hitman Harrybrook, etc.

I'm making a lot of changes to it already, turning it into a really distinct culture and injecting everyone in it with delicious creamy character filling. It's waaaay more fun to write dialogue from actual SkyClan political entities. Unlike the Erins, I LOVE tense dialogue filled with double meanings, and the active threat of a heated argument escalating into violence.

So... is Tree's "special role" really worth salvaging?

A drama series with a character dedicated to preventing drama from happening...?

I'm sort of thinking of drastically reworking it to instead be a role about therapy. A sort of guru type character who's just really good at giving advice. Part of me wants to go even further and gut Tree, significantly scale back his resentment towards The Sisters and make him more of a "I don't agree with them on everything but that's the way they shuck their corn, the Clans aren't perfect either" type of guy.

In any case, Tree himself is totally safe. He's part of a polycule with Violetshine and Dragonfly. He's definitely not an Educator though; for some reason, my heart is just telling me he's not.

[walmart-miku]

ok people we gotta stop making mori the source of all evil with soukoku. Yes mori is evil about how he treated yosano and a lot of the pm members but that's a whole other can of worms.

Anyways with skk MORI WOULD NOT TRY TO GET IN THEIR WAY IN FACT HE WOULD ENCOURAGE THEIR ASSES TO GET TOGETHER THIS PANEL EXISTS FOR A REASON.

MORI SHIPS THEM SO BAD ITS ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS.

Fics need to stop making this dude try to prevent skk from dating. I want a crack fic where mori is just like "Hey how was ur day do u like to kiss guys?" To both dazai and chuuya. I want mori shenanigans where he's actively trying so hard to set them up and Elise is sitting in a corner with kouyou and they're hard core judging him.

[raihanijulie]

Eclipse' Strong Guardian!!!

[hitlikehammers]

put a ring on it 💍🪡 💕

“Is this actually necessary?” Eddie seems to judge where the very patient piercing-professional is in relation to their…target, before turning his head, hair half-covering his face: “How can you possibly believe that it isn’t?”

rating: t ♥️ tags: future fic, established relationship, rockstar eddie munson, successful-in-his-own-right steve harrington, fluff, humour, flirting in awkward places, body piercings, dork4dork, NOT marriage proposals, silly boys being silly ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day seven: Marry me - Train (full disclosure: I have never even listened to this song; the title just was there then I blinked and this story appeared)

“Is this actually necessary?”

Eddie seems to judge where the very patient piercing-professional is in relation to their…target, before turning his head, hair half-covering his face:

“How can you possibly believe that it isn’t?”

The way he tries to sound so scandalized would be undercut by Steve knowing Eddie as a rule, but, in the now?

The way he has to spit his curls from his mouth as he talks definitely does the trick.

“We share a bank account.”

“But we’re using the card with your name on it.”

Eddie says it like it makes a difference. And if it does to him, then fine. Steve just…

It’s not like their finances are uneven: Corroded Coffin’s finally at the filling-arenas stage of the dream hitting, and Steve? He asked Owens, when the last round of hush money was getting doled out, to look into some of his dad’s business practices that even Steve thought were fucked up, and if they found anything, to promise Steve the company, and a seat at a college to learn how to build the operation back up honest.

Along with his own unexpected prodigy of a CFO—one Elle-Jane Hopper, who’d asked Owens for an education, too—they’ve done very well for themselves under the Harrington name, well enough that it’s one Steve’s not even conflicted to use anymore.

Or ask Eddie to hyphenate, if that’s what he wants when the time comes—Steve’s just not gonna give up the opportunity to at least be legally a Munson in some respect, on his end.

Which brings them back to: here

With Steve putting a ring on it.

Like, if Eddie wants this? Of course he should get it. Steve supports a whole shit ton of what Eddie wants—and only protests or downright intervenes to stop things when they’re 100% going to end in pain, prison, or generalized regret.

So Steve just…does not understand what prompted the sudden, frantic need. And the twist or possessiveness isn’t wholly out of character—Eddie craves feeling wanted, feeling loved, and Steve likes to think he does a damn good job delivering on both in basically everything he does, since it’s true in every breath he takes. But it’s not like Eddiedoesn’t get various undergarments thrown at him every night on stage, for his side of the coin. And Dteve just…Steve’s seen him pontificate from lunch tables and helped him relearn how to fucking walk in ‘86. He’s not threatened by horny concertgoers.

So the oddly enthusiastic and out of nowhere urge to half-strongarm Steve into ‘locking it down’?

Eddie is his be-all-and-end-all. Steve does in fact already have the perfect ring in his home office where Eddie raids Steve’s legal pads and steals honors for when inspiration strikes, baby, the muses are fickle mistresses, but ever goes into drawer that has the calculators and classic adding machine in it because they’re soul crushing, they ward off creative genius, and honestly, it’s the easiest and most guaranteed place to keep something secret from his sniffer-dog of boyfriend, partner, other half.

Soon-to-be fiancé.

“So if this is a proposal,” which it’s not, Steve will not accept any of his as a proposal; he has fucking plans to sweep Eddie off his goddamn feel and this admittedly-perfectly-fine room in an arguably-high-end studio, parlor, thing—this is not a proposal.

But getting answers out of Eddie is often like arguing with a toddler; you have to operate under his rules of reality. Steve learned that one years ago.

“So if this is a proposal,” Steve starts again, that that premise firmly in place; “that I’m making. With my bank card.”

Eddie’s eyes flash around to find the piercer, and judges it safe to nod enthusiastically. Good. Makes Steve’s next question easy.

“The fuck were all these, then?”

Because Eddie is covered in metal, now; so. Operating under the rules of his reality, here—

“Promise rings.”

Oh. My. God.

He flutters his lashes all innocent too, the fucker.

“You’ve been making so many promises, baby,” Eddie croons, eyes glinting, and it’s clear he thinks he’s taking the upper hand; “for so long, and I’ve been yours every second.”

If Eddie hadn’t been dutifully prepped for getting stabbed already, Steve would throttle him, now. Not even feel bad about it.

The woman doing the stabbing had been very nice so far, though, and it seems unfair to ruin her careful work when Steve can just throttle Eddie later.

It’s not like there won’t still be clear reason for it.

“It really is kinda romantic that,” the woman with the needles starts, and Eddie brightens; Steve’s already pinching the bridge of his nose like a Pavlovian response.

“Please do not encourage him,” Steve cuts in, not above begging; “in fact,” and he glances at Eddie, who still looks too wide-eyed; too hopeful.

Which is more than concerning in scenarios like these.

“Does he need any more instructions for this part, other than to stay fucking still?”

Steve directs it at the woman who’s adjusting her gloves as she gives Eddie a once over for his position on the table.

“Not,” she stilts her head once more, considering one more angle; “not really, we’ve gone over everything and he’s all set, we just—”

Steve turns on her, serious to the point of solemnity as he lays his cards down plain:

“I will triple your tip,” and he flicks his eyes to Eddie, deliberate with his power play, however small it may be; “on the card with my name,” he emphasizes; “if you don’t say anything more until this,” Steve gestured at his half dressed partner splayed just so before him.

Or: before him, and the woman Steve’s currently trying to bribe into silence so that Eddie can’t be given even the tiniest scrap to cling to and run with, dog with a fucking bone—

“Nothing. Until this” Steve gestures vaguely at the…location in question; “is done.”

She considers Steve a second, before she nods and zips her lips. Steve lets out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

“You’re killing the mood,” Eddie pouts loud enough to makeup for the paid-for silence. Steve glances at the piercer, who nods again when Steve mines approaching Eddie.

So he leans in and brushes those wayward curls properly out of Eddie’s goddamn mouth this time and kisses him until he loses enough oxygen to be fuzzy on his own goddamn name.

He only breaks apart, panting himself but nothing compared to Eddie, whose gasping uneven, eyes unfocused, throat working on remembering how to swallow.

“You…have revived the mood.”

Steve smirks; looks behind his shoulder.

“He still where he needs to be?”

The piercer gives Steve a thumbs up.

“Fantastic.”

Then he’s stepping back, taking his absurdly unnecessary—save that he’s putting a ring on his man, when technically it’s a very qualified woman who came highly recommended by Gareth of all people who’s actually doing the honors, more proof to Steve that the whole thing is fucking absurd—

Said woman is holding up a notepad to Steve.

It really does do wonders for stimulation, it’s our most popular request :) is crawled out first. Steve…

Steve will pass his own judgement on the matter, when the time comes.

The next line she wrote is more time sensitive, and more practical.

I usually ask if the client wants me to count before the need goes in. Can you ask, and if he wants it, can you be my voice? I’ll breathe out really hard for the numbers so that you’ll know.

She’s playing along with his need to keep a leash on his fucking lunatic boyfriend so well, so yeah. Steve can do that.

“Want a countdown?” he asks Eddie with a deliberate side-eye; they’d waited for him to get his breath back because he had to be fucking still but.

He’s still being all fucking moony-eyed.

“From you, baby?” Eddie purrs. “So it’ll put your voice in my ear every time I so much as brush against it?”

Steve rolls his eyes and nods to the woman; she holds up five finger and breathes out heavy like she said, as she puts one finger down.

Steve gets the memo.

“Three,” he calls, and Eddie’s doesn’t even tense. Weirdo.

“Two,” and still Eddie’s just…grinning like he’s lost in the clouds, so when Steve sees the needle prepare to press through, he doesn’t even feel that bad about being the bearer of the news:

“One.”

Steve does fucking flinch when it punctures skin, when Eddie’s the one who finally does make a hell of a sharp intake of breath this time. Because…god.

It’d better be a long-term investment in one hell of an increase in pleasure because…fuck.

It takes Eddie a while to stop panting through his teeth like Steve’s seen women in movies do when they’re in labor, but once he’s calm, he shoots Steve the cheekiest fucking grin, because of course he does, and rotates his wrist like a goddamn QVC host, to let his open palm put the finished product on display:

“Now presenting Edward Munson-Harrington,” he wiggles his currently-bare left ring finger; “and the newly-crowned, befitting his ancestral lineage,” Eddie bows his head theatrically doe tears his pines like that freak he really always has been: “Little Ed—ahh!”

Steve does take that opportunity to step in and pull and Eddie’s curls to reposition his head to look Steve square in the eye:

“This was not a proposal.” He holds the point until Eddie’s eyes get a little wide a he nods—probably less for taking in Steve’s declaration and more because the fucker gets hot and bothered when Steve gets even a little forceful about…well, anything.

“You’re gonna wait like a good boy for that when it’s meant to happen.”

Eddie just brightens up all the more and…goddamnit.

It really has been a relationship-long struggle, at this point, when his boyfriend found it hot when he yelled at a gaggle of shitheads before they even said a word to each other. He probably should have expected the opposite reaction to him ever trying to assert authority over…basically anything, ever—he should have just know from the beginning this response was only going to only escalate from there.

He bows out while he still can—they’re in a oublicnplace for fuck’s sake—with a very dignified flick to Eddie’s ear.

“You don’t even callyou dick Little Eddie, fucking dipweed.”

Eddie snorts. Steve just shakes his head like he’s accepted as his lot in life.

“She’s gonna give you the…care instructions?” he looks to the piercer, who’s been busy doing…cleanup or something while Eddie sits being a menace. She nods, then turns away to hide her grin. Fantastic.

“And I’m gonna go settle up the bill,” and then, Steve points to the door.

And—because Eddie’s stuck here for at least a few more minutes, and the piercer stepped out that very same door to grab the paperwork she’d prepared before they began—Steve takes the opportunity to subtly pop the top button his his dress shirt before he leans in and lets his tongue slip against the shell of Eddie’s ear as he whispers rough, near to the tune of a growl:

“And if you make your king proud and listen real fucking close to how to keep this from falling off because you didn’t clean it right or whatever,” he nods down to Eddie’s crotch:

“Maybe his majesty will see fit to reward you.”

Steve straightens up as Eddie gapes like a fish, smiles at the piercer when she comes back with a stack of pamphlets and printouts, and bites back his own smirk as best he can when Eddie makes a squeaking noise because…wow, yeah, Steve maybe knows Eddie’s predictable physical response to that tone of voice, and those kinds of words delivered in it.

That response probably hurts like hell, given what Eddie’s just asked to happen to his goddamn dick.

“Crazy fucking idiot,” Steve mumbles, and is nearly out of the door when he gets a singsong call in reply:

“You love me!”

And shit, but isn’t that just the explanation for basically everything that ever happens in Steve’s entire life?

And god help him: he’s got the ring, for a finger, and the reservations and the perfect place to drop to one knee all set to make sure it stays that way.

Crazy attracts crazy, he guesses; Jesus H.

Though, as he hears the beginning of those care instructions on the way out the door, he thinks Eddie’s insanity here might come with its own built-in consequences to learn from: no sex for six to eight weeks.

Good thing Steve’s proposal plans are for well outside that window.

But it might be gratifying to taunt Eddie with it anyway. He’d made Eddie blush so hard just playing into his deathless reappropriation of Steve’s high school royalty shame; he figures he’s got a lot of avenues right now to have his own fun with the fact that the love of his life’s a fucking dork behind the scenes.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here

[puppppppppy]

vincent voice claim!! hes auggie and anton's son ^_^

VA: Catbug from Bravest Warriors, voiced by Sam Lavagnino

[sysig]

Light and darkness, but mostly darkness (Patreon)

[askblueandviolet]

Macaca and the Mayor, what's it like to be parents?

Bai Hae, how does it feel to have two more dads?

Do your parents even know that one of your babysitters is the mayor?

MASTER POST

Asks Start 💙💜

Previous 💙💜(🧡)

Next 💜

[teapetal44]

The state of the league of villains during act 3 is so sad man. Compress literally gave his ass for the league, got arrested and nobody gaf. Twice’s demise amounted to nothing, nobody cared. The whole discrimination arc Spinner was involved in was a mess. Suddenly Hori decided he cared about realism in his story so Toga dropped like a fly from a simple blood transfusion. Dabi is forced to sit and listen to Endeavor whine and yap about how sad he is about being an abusive pos, all the while nobody actually cares and he never got any real repercussions besides his family being (justifyingly) mean to him. Shigaraki was sidelined for a boring villain and was stripped off all his autonomy and agency.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 13

PREVIOUS

“I can’t believe you would go out on Black Friday to grocery shop but I guess thanks for going out on Black Friday to grocery shop.” Aaron greets him with as FF moves over to the table.

Andrew and Captain Neil had apparently went out shopping.

Andrew and Captain Neil had apparently come back and have been in Andrew’s room for the past couple hours.

“Josten probably wanted to go to Excites for some gear. I don’t know what my brother sees in that Exy-obsessed jerk.” Aaron says as he eats his own smiley eggs and bacon. FF hears the sound of a hammer and a drill from Andrew’s room.

Heart in his throat he forces himself not to think about what Andrew and Captain Neil COULD be building.

(A guillotine, an iron maiden, that weird wedge thing that splits people in half at the groin, He should NOT have taken that Spanish history class. Oh god it’s probably a fence so he can’t escape whatever hunting ground Andrew is going to drag him to if he can’t buy his continued existence via baked good.)

“Shut up, they’re actually really sweet to one another.” Nicky chastises before turning to FF, “Because of that your final serving goes to Smithy. He deserves it more than you.” Nicky says and slides the final plate of eggs and bacon.

“He’s just as bothered by it as I am!” Aaron scowls.

“By what?” FF asks because there are a lot of things that bother him so Aaron is going to have to be more specific.

“By those two being all close. I’ve seen the way you turn and walk away.” Aaron reaches across the table for his bacon but FF just pushes the plate closer to him. The two plates he had already eaten were more than enough, especially after the full dinner that they’d had the night before. “You’re grossed out by it too right?” He asks as he goes to stab the bacon.

FF slides the plate away and Aaron stabs the table.

FF is NOT HOMOPHOBIC.

His gran raised him better than that.

“I don’t agree with you.” He says because he doesn’t but can’t bring himself to say anymore. He’s in Aaron’s house, he stole Aaron’s keys that morning to lock up the house.

(it was so rude but what if someone broke in because he left the house unlocked? What if someone got hurt just because he wanted to ensure his own survival? Isn’t it better that he just borrowed Aaron’s keys to make sure that no one in the house got hurt? Does FF still believe with every fiber of his being that Andrew Minyard is trying to murder him in this exact house? Yes. Can these concerns coexist peacefully? Also yes.)

If anything he finds Captain Neil and Andrew to be an incredibly nice couple. They talk about things together, they make plans about their future, their PDA was actually pretty minimal (especially in comparison to Aaron), and he had figured out the weird code Andrew talked in so he was pretty sure that Andrew and Neil loved one another.

The only issue he has with the couple is that they are out at a store probably buying supplies to torture and then kill FF.

Otherwise they were perfectly fine.

Aaron scowls, “You can’t be serious. You walk away faster than you run on the court when you see the two of them getting all gross.” He points with his fork and tries to grab the bacon again.

FF frowns deeper.

“I walk away even faster from you and your girlfriend.” He returns because Aaron and Katelyn are the couple who have been the MOST guilty of initiating something in front of him when he was in ‘Visible only when the sunlight strikes him at the exact right angle on the summer solstice’ mode.

 He had tried to clear his throat to get them to quit quite a few times but…well…he has heard Katelyn mention that one of her and Aaron’s favorite ‘hang out’ spots might be haunted….so he hadn’t been overly successful.

“PDA makes me uncomfortable in general. Captain Neil and Andrew are a very nice couple who you shouldn’t talk bad about.” He defends as one of the only people who would know exactly how thoughtful the two were to one another.

He hopes his Gran is proud of him for saying something.

Aaron looks at him with a twisted mouth for a while before relenting, “Fine they’re not that bad. It’s just a big brother thing.” Aaron rolls his eyes.

FF swallows down some acid in his throat and pushes the smiling eggs and bacon over to Aaron who smiles back at the breakfast and proceeds to eat it.

A big brother thing.

FF gets up and heads over to the final bag that Andrew had left out on the counter. FF had bought some additional offerings for his mortal soul to tide Andrew over while he made the brownies. It’s also where the incense and his latest two five hour energies should still be.

He finds the incense, wonders if he hallucinated the five hour energies (very possible), and hands Nicky a box of sour patch kids to distract him when he comes over.

“Smithy, why the hell are you lighting incense?” Nicky asks because the sour patch kids were NEVER going to be enough to distract Nicky. That would take something on the level of Swedish Fish but he’d been more focused on avoiding the candy thrown by an irate woman towards a member of Target staff because the grocery department couldn’t get her the redemption coupon for one of the flat screens in the Electronic department so he had FAILED to procure them. He’d even seen a box sail through the air is bullet time because his brain was too hopped up on Five Hour Energy but he’d let it go believing he could just grab a box at check out. THEN HE ZONED OUT IN THE CHECK OUT LINE AS HE STARED AT BOTH THE FUTURE AND THE PAST AND FORGOT HE WAS IN THE PRESENT WHERE HE HADN’T GOTTEN THE DAMN SWEDISH FISH.

“I’m going to make my Great Grandma’s brownies.” He says in response, “I’m hoping to channel her so I don’t mess up.” He says.

“Oh! More grandma baking goodies?! I can be your assistant baker! What do you need?” Nicky says visibly vibrating with excitement at the prospect. “We can listen to Mariah and I can lick the spoon!”

There is a noise of revulsion from the kitchen table.

“Don’t let him lick the spoon Smiths! He gets WEIRD about it.”

“That sounds like what someone who wants to lick the spoon would say.”

“Oh shut up!”

“That’s not a NO!”

The cousins continue to argue about spoon licking rights as FF gets started checking to make sure that the kitchen has all the necessary equipment to even make his brownies. He’d been so tired (last night? This morning?) that he hadn’t thought about even checking that the cousins would have things like a glass bowl, an baking dish, pie tin, etc.

Thankfully FOR ONCE luck is on his side and FF does not have to walk back to the Target.

So he finishes pulling out everything he’ll need, getting the oven pre-heated, and pulling out the ingredients for the brownies from the fridge.

He lights some incense with the stove top burners sends a quick prayer up and wonders if maybe a ouija board would have been better but if the Home Goods section had been a dangerous spot then the toy section would have been like walking into an active war zone. There are no laws as far as parents are concerned when it comes to getting the ‘it’ toy for their kids. FF has watched the highs and lows of humanity in the Barbie aisle more than once.

So he melts chocolate, he sifts flour and sugar, he separates eggs, and he uses every muscle that Kevin’s insane work out regiment had given his arms to whip those egg whites into stiff peaks. He knows his great gran is with him when Nicky and Aaron continue to argue (they are now talking about the ethics of licking the spoon vs. licking the bowl? He doesn’t quite get how they got there but alright) so Nicky doesn’t hear him say “Stiff Peaks Acquired” to himself because he knows Nicky well enough to know that he would have NEVER heard the end of it.

He uses all of the delicacy his gran had ever tried to teach him to fold those egg whites into the chocolate and then to fold in the flour and sugar. There are more steps, more ingredients, but unless you are family then those are CLASSIFIED.

Great Gran had always been the suspicious sort.

The oven beeps to let him know it’s done pre-heating as he’s carefully transferring his great gran’s life’s work into the baking dish.

He was so focused that he hadn’t even realized that Andrew was back until he turned to do the dishes and found Andrew holding the bowl and running his fingers through the scant remaining mix and shoving it into his mouth.

He is surprise that the scream remains in his head. He’s even more surprised that he stays upright. Maybe the nap did him some good even if it let Andrew and Captain Neil build whatever torture device they were intending to use on him.

He really needs to drink some pepto. He doesn’t think that Andrew will pause their ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ recreation to let FF manage his ulcers. Andrew is staring straight at him.

Andrew offers him the spoon.

FF declines. Raw eggs, sugar, and chocolate? With THIS stomach? He’d almost prefer to be chased through whatever enclosure Andrew is going to drag him to.

“When did you wake up?” Andrew asks.

“Hour ago.” He answers.

“Hm.”

“I’ll make the pie tomorrow.” he ventures trying to extend his life by another day.

Andrew shoves the spoon into his own mouth after that and walks out into the dining room. FF hears both Aaron and Nicky’s cries of anguish.

FF looks at the brownies in the oven at the incense burning on the counter and wonders if that was Andrew’s way of confirming his stay of execution.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in your  settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[sideblogdotjpeg]

have been thinking about professor sol even. professor bufo with no clearly discernable lesson plan. sol bufo ostensibly martial arts professor who spent two weeks running a yoga and meditation program and shows up to the next class with crochet hooks for everyone. professor bufo who is technically supposed to be assigning grades to students but hasnt given anyone less than an A because "i think they worked really hard and they did a great job :)" (referring to the ugliest and most malformed pot holder anyone has laid eyes upon in their life). professor bufo who is on his way to cluelessly kickstart the sexual awakening of about half the cohort of the academys new students. sol bufo adjunct professor who is gone half the year and his first class back is so immediately and easily baited into going into a long tangent about how cool his friends are. sol who is pretty sure hes easily the most useless professor on campus and almost cries when he sees his little desk overflowing with thank you notes at the end of the year. professor bufo absolutely fucking gloriously hot in the tightest little sweater vest because there were faculty complaints when he wore a crop top to class.

[trynadraw]

wanda being a mom

[blondeaxolotl]

One of the few headcanons I somewhat really attach onto is just my hc that Jamil is Bigender and goes by He/She. But in the way that you have to have such an INSANELY CLOSE BOND with Jamil in order to be allowed to refer to him as "she". You can't be an average joe and call him "she", cause if you do that, not only will your ass get beat, but your ass is getting beat so hard you wake up five months later cause you were put in a coma.

Surprisingly one of the few people that are allowed to call Jamil "she" is Kalim, but only when they're by themselves, since Kalim realized he can't go around referring to Jamil as her in public or that will influence others into doing it as well and Jamil wouldn't like that, so he's keeping it low.

Also yeah because I CAN, yes, Floyd is allowed to call Jamil she as well (<- flojami maniac), but unlike Kalim, Floyd doesn't hide it in public that much unless Jamil asks him to. Thankfully no one is influenced by him cause whenever someone else calls Jamil she , Floyd will full on go "oh you can't call Sea Snake that, you aren't allowed to, now I have to get rid of you. C'mere" and chase them around the school on all fours like some paralysis demon until someone physically stops him