#yay kinda proud of this one

[keeps-ache]

overgrowth and languor

[recommended you click and zoom] (alt versions below)

[abruhcore]

“I got inspired” (Jun 11, 2023)

[kuromipuzzles2000]

phew...it costed me a while (and a tutorial in google of how draw legs) but finally! we have SMGP complete body!! and info Enjoy folks! finally we have our protagonist full builded!

SMGP's full reference without the info

[mr-bugs]

im done with this i guess, i dont feel to strongly abt this one. its kinda meh by my standards :P

also eye strain warning (?)

edit: OH MY FUCKING GOD I FORGOT TO RENDER THE GLASS IM GONNA- IM GONNA FREAK

[m00ngbin]

Guess we doin phones now

More of the actual story + lore stuff under this thing

His full name is Callie Halden. For now

He mentioned in an offhand comment to his aunt at 16 that he wanted a job, so she decided to have him start running errands for her. Eventually said aunt told some friends who had their own stores about him, so he started running errands for them as well. Word spreads and now at 22 he does this for half the people in town. Unofficial postal service, glorified errand boy

Fucking HATES it, but it's good cardio and a lot of the people in town rely on him to deliver stuff. He originally tried to keep it pretty cheap because it was just a summer job, but he stayed and it stuck and now he's paid a miserable $3.50 for every package/thing delivered

He's ended up becoming a pretty good long distance sprinter so he can earn as much as possible

Bc he needs to be as fast as possible for his job, he's become pretty impatient. DESPITE the need to make things fast, he goes out of his way to take routes that he knows will have the most cats on them, even if they take longer

Likes collecting phone charms to add to his head. He switches them out like every other day, and he likes it the most when they jingle as obnoxiously as possible (he doesn't register that it's obnoxious, he thinks that it sounds nice. Everyone else HATES it)

Relations: I think he would be friends with Oliver but like. Who wouldn't? Anyways. He feels a kind of kinship with Randy (crappy jobs, being underpaid and overworked, just general suckyness), (OBVIOUSLY Randy has it so much worse, but yk), but he also kind of can't stand him. Callie constantly tries to convince him that it's all in his head and he needs to be more positive, but he's a dick about it. Like he's trying to be nice but it comes off as forceful and nasty

He's related to Little Billy. (2nd cousins, he has to see him at family events and around town. He pretends not to know him bc Billy is actually the worst) He would bond with Phonegingi over Little Billy hatred and find that he actually likes him if he could get past the whole nipple thing ("Eugh, who the FUCK has that many nipples?")

If he were actually in the game, you'd just see him running around in the background every once in a while

He would main dualies in splatoon btw

If he had a leitmotif, it would sound kind of like (...) Mr. Boy Is On the Roof Again but not exactly

He's actually a MEOWTEROLA and not a MOTOROLA. He got that changed

[butchtwelfthdoctor]

@as-snugasabutch and everyone else too i guess dw dream au document has reached over 10k words...................

[girl-bateman]

Feeling a debilitating sense of dread and despair 🤨 Which probably means nothing😍👍

[sunrisemiracles]

Some self-indulgent art of my OC Jan talking to Alastor. ✨

[gloryundimmed]

A Fate Manufactured

While under the beloved gods of man, I selfishly made a plea to Vega, Antares, Sirius, and to great Lord Jupiter himself (as those who have watched for countless eons over our world, once dormant, as it roused from its slumber). I called upon such high beings as these to guide me, to provide a tell-tale sign, an omen to solve man's oldest question: the path on which I tread— is it for me? But then, I remembered the myriad of signs sent when my heart truly wavered. Perhaps the universe has taken care of me, alas, in its own quiet way. When I was younger and lost to despair, I needed those signs or gave in to fear. But now I smile, no longer needing a falling star to guide me 'til sunrise.

Gods, both archaic and newborn, be damned. My very blood marks the genesis of a fate manufactured, a destiny manifested through my two hands alone.

[the-kipsabian]

can it be called lazy breakfast if its 1pm and i have been awake for 12 hours orrrrr

[latenightsonrooftops]

WIP

[endy-the-anxious]

Last of their kind

Summary: what it's like to be the last of your kind

Word count: 799

Characters: naga!Janus

Trigger warnings: dead, implied death, and a corpse (not described in detail)

Notes: this is inspired by a rp i have with @lost-in-thought-20

----------

It wasn’t easy being the last of your kind. A few stages were involved, each more miserable than the next, and each making you feel more isolated.

The first stage started with hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone. That there were others who knew what it was like to be just like you. Who shared some of the same struggles, and whose existence would bring comfort, if only you could find them. That hope was supposed to keep you from falling into the pit of despair. It would give you the drive to go on a journey in search of people like you.

Unfortunately, this hope was also the road right to that same pit, where one would balance on the ridge until they would inevitably fall in. Because nothing was more gut-wrenching than going on a journey with hope, only to have it crushed when you realize that you truly were the only one.

You could find traces of your kind, from ruins to books to skeletal structures, but none of them helped alleviate the pain. In fact, they made it worse. Knowing they had been right there, right where you were right now, and yet, they were gone. And you were still here.

Janus had long given up on having hope of finding others like him. He’d fallen into the pit and wasn’t planning on getting out. After all, what was the point anyways? This would be a fitting end. The last naga would die alone, surrounded by the memories of his ancestors before him.

The ruins that had once been a village were the last place he’d visited. Surrounded by trees, close to the mountain range, they would have been safe there. There should have been at least some nagas there, but there weren’t. The place was empty and covered in dust. Clearly it had been abandoned for many years. Still, Janus had searched around, looked in every nook and cranny. If he could find something, find anything that could just tell him where they went, it would be alright. But there wasn’t.

He found an egg, though. A naga egg. And maybe it had been foolish to think that anything could still hatch from it after all this time, but Janus had been desperate. This was the last thing he had. So he clung to it, and tried to nurture it. He’d picked a random house in the village, and every night, he would lay in bed, tail curled around the egg. Whispering to it that it would be okay. That it could come out because he was right there to take care of them. That it was safe now.

It stayed like that for weeks, but there was no sign of life from it. Thinking that maybe it struggled to get through the outer shell of the egg, Janus decided to help it. He carefully peeled it open, piece by piece. Still, no movement. He wasn’t ready to accept the truth yet. He couldn’t. So, he would carry the fetus to his bed at night, hoping that if he warmed it up with his body temperature, it might come back to life.

When he finally realized it didn’t, and never would, the devastation set in. He buried the fetus in the backyard, to put them to rest, before starting the mourning stage.

The grief alone had nearly killed him. It had grabbed him by his throat and yanked his heart out of his chest before tearing it to shreds in front of him. His people, gone. Wiped away like they had never been there in the first place, ready to be forgotten. His screams of anguish continuously traveled throughout the forest until his voice was too hoarse to go on.

And that was where he ended up now. Leaning against the bed in his room, unable to move, unable to continue. It was strange to think that the catalyst that led him down this path was one singular book. Had he not been curious, and read about his people, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have known about his people, but he could’ve been happy anyways. He could’ve lived among humans, ones who cared about him, at least. But instead, he’d let this quest of finding other nagas take over his life, and he’d left everyone behind. Perhaps that was for the better, too. Soft skin and serrated scales didn’t mesh well. His torso being that of a human wouldn’t make them accept him more. It would only make him stand out.

He should count himself lucky, for being allowed to die here. After all this time, after all this suffering and sorrow, he would finally find his people.

And he knew they would welcome him with open arms.

[sandw1ch3s]

PROGRESS

Still unfinished but going strong

[pop-r0ckz]

Btw I see you in all the little things lmao. Sorry lol

[amatureish]

hair

would you be mad

if i told you i had changed

i look in the mirror and i cant recognise

myself

i cut my hair the other day

ive been scared to tell you

youve been saying you were proud of me

would you take that back?

i was so upset

every time it would touch my shoulder

it felt so wrong

so when i had a shower that day

i used your scissors

and cut my hair

would you still recognise me

in the mirror

if i showed you who i had changed to be?

[astrxealis]

good eve hope u all r well 😇😙💗✨