#each time I draw them I love them even more

[elsa-fogen]

what do you think about the fact that al likes doodling?

i have a head canon that he has some sort of scrapbook or sketchbook full of little doodles of things going on at the hotel and just in his life, I feel like he would draw really stick-figureish (is that a word?) but I read a fic that depicted it as the same art style as an Invader-Zim obsessed scene girl and I could not stop cackling.

I also feel like he would either guard it with his life from everyone (exception to Rosie, of course) or just not bother to tell anyone and one day they just find him doodling schoolgirl style, kicking his legs in the air, LMAO NEW THOUGHT WHAT IF CHARLIE OR LUCIFER FOUND IT

OH! OH! Now that you mentioned it - i LOVE that about him! I just absolutely ADORE little thing he made for the add in the first episode. And i love this fact because 1) he's the first character i like that likes to draw canonically (okay maybe also toothless from httyd?) 2) Me and Alastor share so many similarities, and even drawing???? This just makes me love him even more (i'm sure we would hate each other irl tho AHAHHAHAHA or maybe not, idk)

SO, SINCE ME AND AL ARE SO SIMILAR, I'M GONNA PROJECT ON HIM MY DRAWING HABITS >:3c Forgive me this one, i usualy don't do that, i usualy project characters on myself haha

He DOES have sketchbooks just to draw, and they are ORGANISED. He's numbers every sketchbook and counts every drawing in them since the first one. He also has two numbers for each page - through one sketchbook and through them all. He has over 300 of sketchbooks by now (I have less, only 56). They are stashed somewhere in a very safe place.

Every sketchbook has a date of first and last drawing. Also amount of drawings. It looks like: NOTEBOOK 253 (number of sketchbook, also he doesn't call them sketchbooks) 03.06.1978-05.07.1978 (dates while it was active) 119 (amount of drawings) 29961-30080 (which numbers of drawings are in this sketchbook) He would cound something else, but he's just too busy to spend time on it. He can remember something thinking about what he was drawing in that period and vice versa

He used to draw at overlords meetings, pissing off Carmila and everyone else, because it looked like he hadn't listened to them, so Carmila banned drawing at overlords meetings (Alastor is still angry about it)

But he doesn't progress too much - most of his progress was made through first 10-20 sketchbooks, now he only has slight style changes sometimes when he feels like it

Tho he's really proud of his current skill and used to think that he's literally the best (used to get angry when reminded that it's not true) (now he kinda knows, but still likes his own drawings, doesn't accept criticism and doesn't try to purposely improve)

He likes showing his drawings to people, he knows and if he does, you have to say that it's literally So Cool, show enthusiasm turning pages and say that everything is just amazing. If you don't, he'll be OFFENDED. He also can leave a sketchbook opened on a page with a drawing he likes the most, and it's like a sign "NOTICE THAT I'M DRAWING AND SAY THAT YOU LIKE IT"

If he considers you a friend (well not like Rosie, but at least like Charlie), he'll be showing you his drawings regularly (and you have to be enthusiastic about it!!!!!!) He has showed it to Charlie, but somehow her enthusiasm is... too much. She's too patronising about it. He also shows his things to Husk, he knows that Husk is annoyed and doesn't give a shit, and he just enjoys his annoyance. He also shows his drawings to Niffty and she gives him Just Right amount and vibe of enthusiasm. (He sometimes draws something for her fanfiction if he likes something enough and enjoys Niffty's reaction (she explodes from happiness)). BUT!!!!! He never shows anything to Mimzy. Because she's like, person from the real life, and he feels like she would laugh at it. To Rosie he shows only things he considers his best and her opinion is the most important to him. He can even forgive her criticism (wouldn't take it tho) (she never critisizes him and absolutely ADORES his drawings). Angel kinda likes his drawings, but isn't enthusiastic about them enough

He doesn't take requests (Angel tried "draw me like one of your french girls" shit, Alastor never did (also his ass did not get the reference and he was like "i dont??? have??? any french girls????")) (Vox also tried to make Alastor draw something for him, Alastor was just "that's interesting, i'll think about it" and never thought of it again)

SOME OF HIS DRWINGS TURNED OUT TO BE PROPHECIES but he notices that only when something happens and then he goes back to his old sketchbooks and accidentally finds it. They are just coincidenses tho, but it's fun and Alastor makes a big deal from it and screams to Rosie like "I PREDICTED THAT SHIT 27 YEARS AGO" when finds out. (it's how i predicted many plot points from SU and literally TOH hunter's possession before the show even was a thing JHJDFJHFGJFDHKH i wonder if i predicted something from Hazbin, i need to look through my sketchbooks now)

If you dare to mess with his drawings and vandalise them... oh... you better pray to whatever god you belive in to make your sufferings be enough to redeem your sins and go to heven.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #sudden ask lol #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #radiorose #platonic radiorose #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel text post

[ashesbreadandbutter]

Vox x Alastor || Tell Me Who Did This, Now.

So I know I know, commission work yes yes I'm getting to it BUT! I wrote a little blurb for that little comic @milariro drew for radiostatic which is literally like my favorite ship I think. 👀

Anyway hope y'all like it! ÙwÚ

Word Count: 2k

Rating: PG(?), maybe PG-13. Mostly angsty ish feel?

-

It isn't the first time he's lost track of him somewhere but every time it happens Alastor hopes it's the last. 

He hasn't seen Vox in days and considering how close they are… it's strange, worrisome. 

Vox usually keeps up with him, taking the time to send messages and letters and pop up at the most sudden of times and Alastor always responds. Life in hell has been growing on the two of them, Vox has been so excited recently… so eager to announce that he had a dream, one where he could publicize the two of them, where they could happily pursue their goals… together and Alastor both loved… and despised the very idea. 

Really he himself is fine with his little following; those few sinners, Vox included, who seemed to always tune in but he'd be a liar if he told himself that he didn't see this …new behavior that seemed to jump out of his friend. Vox was a big dreamer, they had spent many long hours talking to each other, laughing and joking while also spewing their deepest hopes and dreams…well usually it was Vox who did so while Alastor listened and encouraged him but he couldn't help but want to stop the other at the same time.

To tell him that he didn't need to go out there and get big and famous or whatever because Alastor likes the way Vox already is but his friend, his silly friend had his hopes for their pitiful, shameful lives down here so who would Alastor really be to stop him?

To put it lightly, Alastor is anxious over the other demon who was still just hardly taller than Alastor's own shoulder. He's worried that something might have happened to his friend considering how long he's been missing now. After all, Alastor had noticed the way they seemed to draw more attention these days when they were out together… the sneaky glances and judging gazes the other sinners would give them.

Alastor doesn't care, couldn't care less especially considering how easy most demons are to get rid of but… Vox had seemed to grow rather conscious of his presence outside because of it all. 

There's been times where he's even mentioned it, brought it up when it was just him and Alastor together.. Alastor could never forget it, the first time it was ever brought up… the way that Vox seemed to look over his shoulder and double check locks and doors with the excuse of making sure they were ‘safe’. 

It angers Alastor. 

Annoys him so bad to the point that he'd kill them, split their skulls and the ground they walked and before Vox’s very own feet but… for some reason whenever Alastor gets to that point… the point of nearly no return, Vox will lightly brush his hand against his own and while that kind, warm smile and tell Alastor that it was okay. 

That they didn't matter. 

That he didn't care. 

And so on and so forth. 

Alastor moves through the room now, annoyance dripping into the air around him as he seems to get ready to go somewhere… to go look for him because after everything they've been through so far he could admit that he didn't… like it when he couldn't keep tabs on Vox. When they weren't together so Alastor could defend him if needed. When he couldn't hover around Vox like a hawk threatening to peck out anyone's eyes who dared to even spill a drop of liquor on his shoes. He's smiling but he's anything but happy as he gets dressed to go out and hunt down Vox himself..

It's not until he's all ready, a clawed hand reaching out to his front door when his ears suddenly perk as the sound of knocking from the other side fills the room. 

Alastor freezes for a moment, his mind simply going blank in that very moment except for the thought of Vox that lingered and as he shifted gears and continued to reach out and turn the door before another knock could be heard, Alastor found himself faced with Vox. 

Immediately there's a surge of electricity that rushes through his body at being faced with his friend. 

He's relieved, for starters, just seeing him but then that turns into confusion, then slowly into unbridled rage when he takes in the sight of the other more closely. 

“Al..” Vox chuckles softly, that little chuckle that Alastor had grown rather fond of over their time of knowing each other even in those moments when he did it after telling some stupid joke or when it happened when they seemed to press close to each other in the moments when they could. He usually loves hearing it but this time he does not. 

Especially because it's glitchy, corrupted from what he can see. 

Not while Vox stands before him looking like a stray, beaten dog who practically limped its way back to its owner.

“I know I'm later than I said I'd be but hey, I'm here now yeah?” Vox starts off, or at least attempts to through riggidy default settings and his scratchy voice box though Alastor seems to understand him anyway. 

He doesn't want to though. 

He doesn't want to be faced by him when he's like this and all Alastor manages to do is let out a glitchy sound himself though unlike Vox he's not tired or worn, he's energized, livid. 

His eyes move over Vox's form; looking at his heavily dirtied and wrinkled shirt that seemed to be missing a few buttons then they look at the way Vox seems to cradle one of his arms and of course Alastor takes in his screen which seemed shattered, clearly punched in. 

Rightfully so, Vox seems to grow self conscious as the way Alastor hasn't responded yet. He knew that appearing like this at such a late hour would be one thing for the man but it's so strange to see Alastor so… serious. Vox laughs a little, lowering his gaze as if shy, unwilling to show his face as he slowly looks down to his shoes.

A moment of silence washes over them and Vox can't help but rub his already sore arm.

Maybe he shouldn't have come after all? Perhaps Alastor was even angry with him for doing so after already being hours late… Vox knew he shouldn't have come, should have just dealt with this on his own like he preferred to do so but they both knew Alastor would have come looking for him if he hadn't shown up because that's just who Alastor was when it came to Vox. 

His rushing thoughts come in bundles, so much so that the silence becomes deafening and Vox can't help the way his body wants to just naturally step back and walk away as if he never came to begin with, and maybe that was for the best? He hates bothering Alastor, hated not being strong enough to always hold his ground or to scare others away like Alastor so easily seemed to do and maybe it makes him feel inferior, unworthy of being with the other man which always makes his heart ache when he comes down to such a conclusion. He has so many dreams for them but at times much like these ones he wondered if he was just getting reality messed up with said dreams. 

It's not until a finger slips under his screen and lifts it to make Vox's gaze focus on Alastor's once more but this time… Vox seemed to freeze at what he saw on the other's face, his functioning eye growing wider at the scene as he finds himself suddenly holding his breath. 

He's distorted, glitching and reversing, sigils forming in the air behind him as his eyes look into Vox's. His neck twisted over to the side and eyes big, red, and ticking in a way that makes it seem that Alastor is just barely clinging to patience… like he could burst at any moment in a fit of claws and teeth and as Vox stares up at him, shocked, he can feel shivers run up his back as Alastor continues to hold his head in place. He's gentle but firm, refusing to let this go which was something Vox would also say to him..

To just forget it and move on but no, nonono.

Alastor refused not to be pissed and as far as he knew, he had worked to do..

People to punish, bitches to burn. 

“Who… Did this.. to you?” He says and with the way the room seems to shake it's clear that Alastor is not in fact asking but instead demanding to know. Vox can feel the bloodlust leaking off of the other demon, the fury he carries and Vox was sure that if he was anyone else in hell in that very moment that Alastor probably…wouldn't have hesitated to spill his blood and the ground he stood on. 

Vox recognized the look, his eyes slowly lowering again now while Alastor shifts his hand to caress the side of Vox's face, running his thumb over the undamaged side and though it's a kind gesture Vox can feel the way Alastor's hand seems to lightly shake. 

Vox makes a soft sound, something that he didn't make often and closes the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Alastor and clinging to him and at first the taller of the two freezes at the reaction before slowly but surely… calming, at least as much as he could right now. 

It takes a moment for Alastor to immediately respond but Vox doesn't mind, not when he can feel how warm Alastor was and smell his scent so closely and after everything it seems to take some pressure off the TV demon. When Alastor does hug him back his hold is a bit firmer, a bit tighter, like he may get upset if Vox dares to pull away from him now. 

“Alastor, please…” Vox sighs softly,  brokenly and though Vox's voice box is fucked Alastor still makes out those words and the gentle way Vox seems to speak to him. 

“Please just…just leave it.” He says next, moving to bury his head in Alastor's chest and stepping in closer only to tumble forward onto a knee making Alastor jolt and quickly grip him closer before he finds himself in both of them. “Please let it go… I'll be okay, I'll recover. I always do don't I?” he says, practically begging the other man and Alastor feels his face twitch and he's never before more angry at his own curse for not being able to show just how upset he is right now. Yes of course he was sure Vox would be okay but he despised the idea of the other growing used to being treated this way by others...

“I'll be okay see?” Vox tries to convince the other or maybe… he's trying to convince himself now as he lifts his head and gives Alastor that silly, stupid smile again and it both annoys the deer demon but also convinces him enough to not leave right now and go hunt down however did this for there was all the time in the world to do such later. 

Vox had come to him at this time for a reason and even if the reason was simply because Vox had no one else Alastor didn't care. He'd help him just like he always did… and so with a huff Alastor looks down to Vox with that everlasting smile though it does seem strained. 

“Come inside… I'll take care of you.” He says and though Vox still feels guilty for showing up and possibly ruining Alastor's day with his appearance he also feels… grateful knowing Alastor was there just like he always was. So Vox gives in, sighing and nodding softly, gathering himself and getting to his feet and as Alastor holds the door wide open for him he trails in before the door closes back and snaps shut behind the two of them now allowing them to be alone together, where they were always guaranteed safety from the hellish world around them. 

Where Alastor could continue to keep a close eye on him for just a while longer. 

~

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #alastor x vox #alastor #viviz #hazbin hotel fandom #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #fanart #radiostatic #alastor the radio demon #vox x alastor #blurb #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #i will write almost anythin #writing commissions #please commission me #writing comms open #fanfic writing #writers of tumblr #writer for hire #writing #writeblr #hurt/comfort #fav ship

[sailtomarina]

Here is Where I Want to Stay

“Fred, do you have a mo–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.

“We have a problem.”

The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.

Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere. 

No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.

“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.

George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.

“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”

Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.

What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.

Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.

With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.

 “You’re still here.”

You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”

You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”

He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”

“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear. 

You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.

“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.

“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.

“I want…”

How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?

“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.

“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.

His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”

“It is?”

He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”

You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings. 

“Is this…your flat?”

You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.

“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.” 

“We could have walked up here,” you teased.

His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”

He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.

“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.” 

Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.

Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”

You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”

Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.

“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.” 

“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”

So, you did.

WC 1242

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.

4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!

#harry potter fanfiction #Facebook: Weasleys Witches and Writers #fred weasley #reader insert #fred weasley x reader #harry potter flashfic

[dairy-farmer]

You know that annoying "redeemed by a Good Woman/redeemed by puss" troupe?

I just remembered Match :Dc

Kon's evil Clone twin. The one where they actually SUCCEEDED and he's totally down to kill Superman and is also super unstable physically etc.

But consider!

Secret Relationship! Bats are paranoid after all. Can't let our enemies or Dads know we're dating! Or fuuuuuckin.

So when the switch happens? And "Superboy" gets a nasty blow to the head that gives him spotty memory? Of COURSE his... "Best Friend"(tm) wink wink nudge nudge, is gonna take care of him. The whole team obviously knows. But no one else does.

So Match has no idea what's happening.

Has he been Made? THAT FAST? Shit, Bats really ARE something else. Better kill hi-... why is he hugging me? This... IS a hug, right? He's never had one before. It's not awful.

And so Match keeps pretending to be Kon. Slowly gets "better". Forgot a lot about Robin and their Relationship, of course, so they have to start basicly over. But isn't Rob the BEST? So patient! Hand holding. Cuddles. Tender kisses.

Hand jobs.

It blows Match's MIND. This? This is fantastic. No one tells him what to do, treats him like an animal, calls him an "it", and?? He gets all these soft touches and kisses? Robin's even talking about maybe having sex "again"!

Fuck. He is TOTALLY stealing the other clone's Life. RIP to that guy. His now.

Except? No The Fuck You Don't, Bitch(tm). Kon is actively waging a one man war against his captors. Fuck these guys. Luthor in particular. He has a boyfriend to get back too and a Usurper to curbstomp. Or fuck. Depends on how hot he is and if he's a dick. Kon DOES have a well known incest kink.

Might keep him.

But back with Match? B-be gentle with him Robin~ *bats eyelashs* *shoulder smack* they're doing the whole shebang. Cabin by a lake. Pizza and dancing. Sparkling grape juice since booze won't effect "kon" anyway.

Just? Everything Tim can think off to make it fun and memorable. He even remembered lube this time, because NOW he knows Kon is too big to take without a little help. It's like a do-over, almost.

It's ALSO the moment Match's loyalties completely fuckin switch. Ride or Die with THIS guy, specifically. [Robin has given Match: The Sex. Match will now willingly die for Robin.]

It's a literally life-changing First Time for Match and a Really Good for Tim. Laughing and tired from dancing, hands roaming each other's bodies, lazily finding what feels good. Tim sighing in pleasure, a pretty little roll of his body arching his back, as he let's his legs fall wide. Smiles at Match.

His hands still loosing hugging Match close, his kissable lips, soft in a lazy grin. The body under Match relaxed and full of trust. Touching him back. Just to feel his skin, too make him feel good too. Looking at him like he's wonderful. Like he's worth loving.

IS Loved.

Match wants to worship this. Steal it away. To hell with the world and "saving" it. He uses a brain meant for grand battle strategies, to memories every twitch and squeeze around his rocking fingers. What makes Rob feel good. What makes him feel BETTER.

Kisses his way down.

Gentle. Careful, so careful. He has so much strength.

He wishes he could suck, but doesn't trust himself. Luckily his tounge draws delight anyway. He let Rob roll them. Feels cradled, between those thighs, as Rob desperately rides his face.

Takes so much control for Rob to stop. He's shaking with it. He wants to continue so BAD. But wants Match's cock more. So Match gets passed the lube. Blindly fumbles to get ready.

He hears something, flying. Probably a plane. Not important. Robin's important. Lifts him so EASY. Feels him shudder, turned on by how easy Match moves him. They line up, and Match slides in like he's always been there. He has to let go or his grip will get too tight. Amazing. Wet, hot, soft... w-words... he can't...

And THAT'S when he gets a sharp stab to the arm with an injecter and a Smiling But PISSED, grabbed-by-the-throat-hard-enough-to-break-the-bed-frame Slam from ACTUAL Kon. Who has escaped.

And found Match in bed with his boyfriend.

The injector has the stabilizing agent they were withholding. The choke hold however? That's for him. Sup, buuuuuddy. Enjoying my boyfriend? Yeah, he DOES feel good. I would know!

Give me a reason not to kill you where you lay :)

Tim is confused as hell. Still horny. But very alarmed. Two Kons? One is clearly NOT Kon. Please tell him it's not the one he's in bed with. He does NOT want to be a cheater! Kon he would NEVER cheat! (Kon knows.)

Match... offers to switch sides? He would kill for Tim. Die for him. Is in love. Wants to be a person. Is mildly to moderately insane but can TOTALLY promise to keep a lid on his Crazy.

.....also this is kinda hot. Wanna make out? Do you think Tim would enjoy that?

Kon? Is basicly? Yyyyyep. That's a 'Me but fucked up' alright! Unfortunate. Hot though. Let's keep him. He's like one of those really, really ugly dogs you kinda can't help but falling in love with.

Tim? Still impaled on SOMEBODY'S dick and just wants to know what's going the fuck on. Face in his hands. Why is he dating this asshole? Why!? *gets smoochs* oh, right. Tim loves him.

Damn it.

Fine! Fuck it! Both of you, I GUESS, get over here. Time to live out some of those fantasies Tim's had but couldn't do with only one boyfriend. Kon! Naked! You! Name? Match. Okay, Match? Move your hips! *vigorous sex noises!!!*

And so they threesome it out! Until Tim can no longer keep up. Then Match n Kon pull on pants and blow up some bases, get pizzas, and come back for "round two". It's a great week!

Tim ends up on bedrest. Looks vaguely mauled. But with a delightfully dewy well-fucked shine~ to complexion.

-🐼🐼🐼

sex with tim getting ppl to stop being evil😍😍😍!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[sunny1927]

hello. I'm new to tumblr and i want to follow epic mickey or mickey mouse blogs in general, can you maybe recommend me a couple blogs?

Hello! Welcome to tumblr! (A very messy, confusing place that I love skckskdkck-)

And well I’ll admit, finding Epic Mickey blogs aren’t all that hard (but from me it was hard considering I was new to the fandom and didn’t know much about the Disney characters), but once you find more blogs that interest you just follow it y’know? Anyway here are some blogs I follow who do Disney/epic Mickey content.

@zenmom posts a lot of drawings about Epic Mickey and mostly Oswald in general (she’s real cool :D)

@skullsemi posts a lot of good stuff on Disney and Topolino characters (and as well as their AU @thebackupdetectives , even though it isn’t active as much. I still look at it every now and then).

@angelleplaytoonbeary makes really great drawings & edits of Disney movies and the Disney bros Mickey and Oswald, they’re always so adorable haha! ❤️💙

@bniebee draws a lot of Epic Mickey art and really smooth animations! (her artstyle is so soft and beautiful every time dkvsoakfoco-)🩵✨ (also she has a musketeer blog about Julius, Oswald and Mickey @musketeers-brothersinarms I recommend if you are interested)

Okay I’m just put some other blogs cause I can’t really explain them all- (because I don’t want this post to be so long as it is already)

@jestierabbit , @graytoons , @mr-pgeon , @waci-illstr , @misscloudiedays , @mickedy , @mice-ducks-and-blots , @obwald , @mafik-sun , @alioks-blog , @rockhousejai , @mushysposts @the-bravest-tailor @hotcat-lol @hatred-n-hav0c are all great artists to follow if you are interested in their content of epic Mickey/Mickey Mouse AUs (or even their original content or other fandoms cause they’re all really cool)

@memelordotherblog , @sweettjrose & @local-meme-lord post a lot memes of topolino comics (which are all hilarious) and have really great takes/headcanons on each characters.

And there’s me (self promote haha-)! @sunny1927 I post a lot of epic Mickey/ Mickey Mouse and Friends content (and I also have an AU blog @disney-mystical-au if you wanna check it out, but it’s in a jamble rn-)

I think that’s all, (sorry if I missed everyone, so many people to remember). Hopefully you enjoy your time here in tumblr! ✨

#wow that’s a lot of tags- #inbox #sunny talks #epic mickey #Disney #mickey mouse #mickey mouse and friends

[genopaint]

Week 16 of the Daily Dragon Challenge is here! Apologies on the delay for posting this... I was lazy. BUT!! We're finally in the 100's!!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #105 - Garchomp

Figured it'd be the perfect time to draw this fella since I just beat Platinum for the first time yesterday! Sadly I didn't end up getting one on my team but they're SUCH a cool dragon all the same

Daily Dragon #106 - Rex

One of the cutest Mario dragons! There's just something so charming about this little guy

+ 2 variants

While drawing this it really dawned on me how interesting this enemy is. It's one of the many Mario enemies that only appeared in 1 main series entry, but unlike a lot of other similar enemies it just will randomly appear in spinoff content a lot. Not even just as cameos, but like actual tangible enemy appearances. It's been an enemy in 3 games post SMW, 4 if you count the Minecraft Mario thing. That actually puts it over a LOT of random Mario enemies, but it still doesn't appear enough to be a Mario staple enemy. idk just kind of interesting to me lol

Daily Dragon #107 - Shelly Draws

A kobold with a passion (and a horde) for Trading Cards! She loves trying out new ones, and dreams of one day making her very own. Her favorite food are hamburgers.

This is a redesign of an old kobold girl from a Monster Girl design challenge thing I did back in 2016! Sadly I don't remember her name, but I do remember that I gave her a passion for trading cards. Which is more important than a name anyway, so I gave her a new card-pun name

Daily Dragon #108 - Koibito

My friend Sox's super cool Piranha Dragon! This design is super cool and I love Dragon hybrids of any kind! Thank you for letting me include them in this challenge!!

Daily Dragon #109 - Neonagon

Strange 2D creatures that appear on walls in cities. Be careful when using regular weapons on them, because their appearance doesn't make the walls any more malleable!

Another redraw! This was from a prompt request I made in 2020! I think it's a neat concept and it was a simple to do and I kinda didn't have huge drawing energy today lol

Daily Dragon #110 - Field Dragon

These incredibly tiny dragons are just slightly larger than berries. They use their spikes to collect various pieces of food while out and about, as well as breaking open seeds and nuts to eat!

Daily Dragon #111 - Fumedradon

Odd fume spewing dragons that are always found laughing and moving oddly as their nests are filled with the strange smoke the billow out. If you're going to deal with one, wear a gas mask

is... is this the first holiday dragon so far??? of course i ended up only doing that on THIS holiday and not any other.... Also 4/20 landed on day 111 isn't that neat :)

#dragon #dragons #character design #creature design #kobold #scalie #anthro #pokemon #garchomp #super mario world #fanart #my stuff #oc

[sequinsmile-x]

Fallacy

He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins.

Aaron gets jealous when a local cop flirts with Emily, and his reaction changes their relationship forever.

-x-

Hi friends,

It's been a little while since I wrote a getting together fic or jealous Aaron, so iI thought I'd combine them together for you <3

As always, please let me know what you think! -x-

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: none

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He loved her laugh. 

It was loud. Bright. Beautiful. Something that never failed to make his day when he heard it, always drawing him out of whatever situation he was in, providing momentary relief before reality kicked back in. 

Aaron remembered the first time he’d heard it, how she’d clearly tried to keep it stuck in her chest as she watched Derek and Spencer wage a prank war against each other across their desks. She’d been stuck in the middle of it, still new to the team and unsure of her place in it, ducking down as something flew from Spencer’s desk to Derek’s. It was her laugh that had dragged his attention to what was going on, pulled him out of his seat as he stepped out of his office to see what his team was doing. Her eyes had gone wide as if she’d been caught out misbehaving by a teacher, her laugh dying in her throat as she looked down at her desk. 

He still hadn’t trusted her, still unsure what her intentions were, but for a reason he didn’t understand at the time, that moment had been the first chink in his armour. It was the first of many. Emily seemed to wear him down without meaning to, her smile and laugh and her kindness so natural to her that he knew she was not doing it intentionally. He often found himself having to hide the fact she made him smile just by being her. She’d not only destroyed his armour, but crawled under his skin. She made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t - especially back when he’d still been married to Haley. 

Somewhere along the way, Emily became his best friend. 

She’d helped hold him together after Haley’s death. She’d been there with food most evenings. She’d brought over new clothes for Jack as he grew too fast for Aaron to keep up with. She gave them her time, sat with them and encouraged them to carry on living in the moments when it felt the most impossible. When he looked back on it, he thinks that was when he started to fall in love with her. 

At first, he thought it was borne out of proximity. A natural reaction to the kindness she’d shown him and his son, but he quickly learnt it was more than that. He looked for her in every room. Sought her out whenever she was nearby, and he wanted more. He wanted to be with her, to know how it felt to sleep curled up around her in bed. To know how it felt to kiss her, to know if it was even more than he’d built it up to be in his head. 

There was one evening, just before Ian Doyle tore through their lives, when he’d been home late from the office. Emily had offered to look after Jack and the little boy and encouraged it, his love of Emily well known. When Aaron got home he heard them laughing together, the sound drawing him towards Jack’s bedroom. He found them curled up on Jack’s bed, the little boy leant against her as she read him his favourite book. 

He’d almost asked her out that night, his heart hammering in his chest as she smiled at him and took a glass of wine from him after she’d snuck out of Jack’s room once the little boy was asleep. Aaron couldn’t say why he’d backed out, his nerves getting the better of him, a voice in the back of his head that sounded remarkably like his father telling him that he wasn’t good enough for her. That she could do better. 

It was something that only seemed to be confirmed when she started to pull away from him and Jack in the weeks that followed. He now knew it was an attempt to protect him and his son, that she feared more than anything that Ian would figure out how important they’d become to her, but at the time he was sure it was her way of letting him down gently because she’d figured him out. 

When she was in Paris he missed her more than he thought he would. He still looked for her in every room. Still sought her out. But she wasn’t there. He missed her laugh, her smile. The way she made him feel. He’d sit by her grave for hours some days even though he knew it was empty, idly hoping that he’d feel close to her. That he’d find some kind of peace he always felt when he visited Haley. He repeatedly told himself that when Emily came back, if not even an option he could consider, he’d ask her out. He’d kiss her and find it in himself to be as brave as she always was. 

Then she came back and she was different, a ghost of herself as if she really had died on that cold floor in Boston. He watches as she tries to make everyone else feel better, as she tries to be the person she used to be because that’s what they wanted, and he promises himself he won’t expect that of her too. He’s content to be her friend, to be the person she opens up to after he gently convinces her to start taking therapy seriously, and ultimately he knows he’d just be her friend forever if it meant she was happy. 

He tenses as she laughs, the sound travelling across the precinct they were in, and he clenches his teeth as he packs the case files away in his briefcase. He looks up and sees her standing a few paces away from one of the cops who’d been flirting with her since they’d arrived to help with the case they’d just closed. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she laughs, her lips pressed together as she nods at whatever is being said to her. 

He loved her laugh, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever someone else drew it out of her, especially when that person happened to be a handsome cop. He knows he had no right to feel this way, that she was his friend and nothing more, but it makes fury he knows she doesn’t deserve burn in his veins, chased by the love he endlessly felt for her. He reminds himself that she is the most important part in all of this, a mantra he repeats to himself as he feels himself calm down, his shoulders loosening slightly as she walks closer to him, the cop still by her side. 

Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful that it was a local case, wanting nothing more than to simply go home and pretend he hadn’t just watched someone flirt with the woman he loves all day. 

“How about it Agent Prentiss?” The police officer says, his eyebrow raised as they come to a stop just a few paces away from him, “If we’re done here, I can take you out to that dinner you still haven’t agreed to.” 

Emily chuckles, a quick smile flitting across her face as she clears her throat, and she starts to respond but Aaron cuts her off. The fury he’d barely tampered down returning with a vengeance, bursting out of him before he can stop it. 

“If you’re done flirting, Agent Prentiss, it’s time we left,” he says through gritted teeth. He realises he’s shown his hand the second she turns to look at him, the way her eyes briefly widen, a frown painted across her because of how he’s spoken to her, hurt flashing in her eyes. He tenses, his jaw tight as he picks up his briefcase and starts to walk away as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ll see you back at the office.”

He pretends he doesn’t feel her gaze on his back as he leaves, her concern and confusion burning through his clothes and scraping at his skin.

___

She feels unsettled. 

The moment she got back to her apartment she started the routine she’d come up with years ago that helped her decompress after a hard day. She immediately threw her hair into a loose bun and ran a bath, the water so hot she hissed as it touched her skin, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air as she settled into it. Once she’d climbed out of the bath, baby hairs curling at the top of her neck, she’d changed into her comfiest sweats and she ordered in her favourite comfort food, settling on the couch with it when it arrived. She still feels unsettled even when Sergio joins her, his head butting against her hand the moment she’s finished eating. 

Emily sighs and scratches his head, “Men are so stupid sometimes, Serg,” she says, smiling when he settles into her lap, “No offence.” 

She was worried about Aaron. It was unlike him to snap at her like he had. It hadn’t happened in years, since he didn’t trust her or her intentions, and she hated it. Hated the reminder of what it felt like before he became one of the most important people in her life. 

Before she knew how it felt to be in love with him. 

It had happened slowly, sneaking up on her until it pulled her under, a moment of painful clarity when he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. The relief she’d felt when she found him in the hospital was short-lived when he had to send away Jack and Haley. She’d eventually gone home that evening when he asked her to, her heart heavy as she could suddenly name the feeling she’d harboured for him for months. The love she felt suddenly so much a part of her it was suffocating, something she had to get used to breathing around, a part of her chest that she didn’t know was hollow full of him and his little boy. 

She did all she could to be there for them after Haley died. She put all of her love into grilled cheese sandwiches and dinosaur-covered t-shirts that saw in the store that made her think of Jack. She loved them from a distance even though they were right there, well aware it was not the right time to love them the way she wanted to. Just as things were starting to look up, just as she thought he was about to ask her out, the look in his eyes undeniable, Ian came out of the shadows. 

She thought of Aaron and Jack constantly when she was in Paris, thought of them every time she heard a child laugh or saw a family. She’d close her eyes and think of having them there with her, of showing them the streets she’d fallen in love with when she was a child herself, the memories that were now tainted by the time she’d spent there recovering. When she got home, Aaron was right there. He was next to her, he was her best friend, but she worried that the chance for more had passed them by. That it had become yet another almost in her life, something she’d missed out on as penance for her past decisions. 

She kept trying to figure out what happened. How she’d gone from politely nodding and laughing at whatever the cop flirting with her was saying as she tried to sneak glances at Aaron when he wasn’t looking, to him snapping at her. She’d tried to ask him, but he wouldn’t talk to her about it, wouldn’t even look at her as she followed him out of the precinct they’d been working in for a few days. 

She blows out a breath and shakes her head, scratching behind Sergio’s ears one more time before she stands up, determined to get a glass of wine. She pauses as she reaches for the fridge door, her eyes fixed on a drawing Jack had done for her, it’s bright, crudely drawn, figures standing out against the general aesthetic of her apartment.  He’d told her that the three people in the middle of the drawing were her, him and Aaron, his smile wide and proud as she took it and said she’d put it on her fridge. 

It was like a snapshot of a reality she didn’t have. A taster of a life she could have with them if she actually did something about it. Images of a home they shared scattered with drawings from him and children who were half her and half Aaron, their faces slightly out of focus.

She closes her eyes and looks down at the floor for a moment, weighing up her options. She could stay here, have a glass of wine and snuggle up with Sergio, or she could go check on Aaron. She looks at the picture on the fridge door again and nods, the decision made in an instant as she grabs her phone from the counter and heads towards the front door. As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Sergio meow, she huffs out a laugh as she stands up straight again, grabbing her keys from the side.

“Sorry, Serg,” she says, bending down as he runs over to scratch his head, smiling softly before she leaves the apartment, her voice soft as she talks to herself, “I’ve got to go check on the other guy in my life.” 

___

Aaron groans when he hears the knock on his door.

He shakes his head, his plan for an evening alone gone. He frowns as he looks through the peephole and sees Emily. He pauses for a moment before he opens the door, the guilt he’d been pushing down all evening working its way back up his throat, the way he’d spoken to her making his stomach churn. 

“Emily-” he starts as he opens the door but she walks right past him, her arms crossed over her chest as she turns to look at him.

“Are you okay?” She asks, the drive to his having made her a little more antsy than she had been when she left her apartment. 

He sighs and closes the door, “I’m fine, Emily,” he says far too quickly and he turns to look at her when she laughs humourlessly, clearly not believing him. It makes irritation lick at his insides, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” 

The smile slips from her face and she frowns at the bitterness in his voice, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure out what he’s talking about.

“A date? What are you…” she trails off as it hits her and she scoffs, shaking her head at him, “That cop from today?” She asks, his answer a simple averting of his gaze, his eyes fixed on her floor, “Aaron, I never agreed to go on a date with him.” 

He looks up sharply, his eyes meeting hers as the fight drains out of him. He swallows thickly, treacherous hope sparking in his chest, “Wh…what?” 

She watches him carefully, her hands on her hips as she looks him up and down, sees a sense of uncertainty wash over him that she’d never seen on him before. He was usually so confident, self-assured in a way that she found endlessly attractive. It takes her a moment for her to realise that she’s the one who’s done this to him, that the thought of her going on a date with someone else had reduced him to this. She chokes out a laugh and shakes her head, stepping closer to him, pushed forward by confidence she knew would be fleeting. It had passed her by so many times before, he had passed her by, and she wasn’t going to let it happen this time. 

She feels her resolve snap. A delicate thread that had been fraying for longer than she cared to admit giving way under the weight of everything she felt for him, the love she could no longer ignore. 

“God, you’re such an idiot,” she says, closing the gap between them, her lips pressed firmly against his before he can respond. 

It takes him a second to respond, one of the longest of her life, but then his hands are on her back, pulling her impossibly closer as he kisses her back just as intensely.

It’s new, unexplored territory as it answers questions they’d both had for years, her tongue licking across the seam of his lips before he opens them, the sigh that passes from her mouth to his reward. It somehow feels like coming home, like what they’d both been walking towards for years, a familiarity about it that feels perfect, as if they’d been made for each other. 

He pulls back when the need for air becomes too much, dizzy on her and the lack of oxygen as he rests his forehead against hers, “Emily…”

“If it isn’t clear,” she says, her chest heaving up and down as she looks at him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “You’re the only person I want to go on a date with.” 

He swallows thickly, “You…you never said anything.” 

She smiles, cupping the back of his head and stamping her lips against his again, chasing the taste of him, her new addiction she knows she’ll never have enough of, “Neither did you.” 

“The timing never felt right,” he says, the words sounding lame even to his ears, and she chuckles at him, “I didn’t…” he clears his throat and rests his forehead against hers, “Never in a million years did I think you’d want me back. You could have anyone you wanted.” 

It makes her ache, his self-depreciation something she’ll file away for later, something she’ll prove to him again and again is misplaced until he believes her. 

“I want you,” she says, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “I have done for a long time.” 

He sighs, all the missed opportunities, the time they’d lost weighing heavily on his shoulders for a moment. He shakes it off, lets himself feel the way she’s pressed up against him, how her breath skips across his face. 

“We have a lot to talk about,” he says quietly, skating his hand up and down her back, “You could never be…”

He drifts off, unsure how to say it, how to tell the woman he’s in love with, the woman he’s kissed twice, how he feels about her. She smiles at him, understanding he’d lived most of his life without shining at him as she nods. 

“I know,” she says, “You’re very important to me too.” 

It’s not what she wants to say, not by a long shot, but it will do for now. He kisses her, the first of many he knows that he’ll initiate, and he pulls her into a hug, his chin on top of her head as she snuggles into his chest. 

“Will you stay tonight?” He asks, and she pulls back, her eyebrow raised as he realises how it sounded, “Not like that. I just mean-”

“Of course I’ll stay,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing as she sinks into his embrace, “But you’ll have to take me on a date first before I put out.” 

He laughs and she joins in, both of them hiding their joy in each other, her face against his shoulder and his against her hair, aware of Jack sleeping just down the hall even in the bubble they’d found themselves in. 

“Is tomorrow too soon?” He asks, and she tilts her head to look up at him, her cheeks going red at the intensity of his gaze, the words he hadn’t said painted all over his face. 

“For what?” 

He smiles softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes her stomach flip, “For our date. We could go for dinner?” 

She grins widely and pulls him into a searing kiss, her hands still tangled in his hair when it ends. She knows it’s the only answer he needs, but she replies anyway, warm and content in his arms as she nods against him.

“It’s a date.” 

-x-

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#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss #aaron x emily #hotchniss fanfiction

[stinkypeanutbutter]

‘ Tick

Tick

Tick ‘

The light sound of ticking from the clock could be heard from Aiden’s bed , which Aiden has been laying on for the past 40 minutes , or so . His parents had gotten him it quite a while ago . He wasn’t sure why , because he knew he wouldn’t be able to figure it out or have enough focus to remember , but it was something along the lines of “ Not having to use a phone or digital clock when it’s around . “ ‘ Tick

Tick

Tick ‘

He didn’t like that clock . It felt loud , felt repulsive and it bothered him so . Yes , it felt loud , he could feel it . Each time it ticked it felt like it slowly crept into his ears like a bug and started chewing at his brain .

. What time was it ?

He couldn’t remember . Maybe he should , it seems like something he should know of but he doesn’t . Not right now . .

.

Aiden didn’t really feel loved . Wow ! That was random , gotta be all edgy don’t we . .

Well , it was true . But of course he’s wrong , he has to be . His parents were there , sometimes , and showered him with gifts whenever they came back from traveling for work . .

Annoying . It’s all so irritating . His parents love him , he’ll keep telling himself that to make sure it sounds true enough to believe , even if the truth may hurt more then the lies .

. . Lies ? No no , there weren’t any lies . They never said anything to lie , did they ? He couldn’t remember . Hungry . He was hungry . or bored ? One of the two fit .

Maybe he’s lying to himself just as much as he believed they were . But he wasn’t , he was sure his friends cared for him . I thought this was about his parents ? He’s sure it was , that’s what got him thinking more in the first place , since around 2 : 33 pm . .

It was 2 : 33 . Was it ? Maybe it’s a minute before , maybe after but he couldn’t check the clock if he wanted .

‘ Tick ‘

He wanted to die . No , no he didn’t . Maybe . He hadn’t put much thought into that in a while . Maybe he does , or he’s sure he just doesn’t care if he dies or not . Risk is fun . The risk or the thrill ? The risk is what gives him the thrill . What does he like more ? Hm .

Parents , family , yada yada . He wished they had bothered to call him back once , just once anytime they were away to check in on him , make sure he’s fine . He’s always fine , he’ll always be fine , what ELSE is there to be ? Not sad , he can’t be that it would worry everyone . Would it ? He wished his parents worried more . Called more , appreciated him more , cared about him more he doesn’t care if they love him or not anymore all he wanted was they’re stupid attention , not coming back every few months with a ton of pricey , dumb gifts to make up for lost time . Lost time they barley bother to recover because it’s all just gifts he never asked , never wanted once , and yet he never bothered to speak up about it . He felt tired . Hungry ? Bored ? He went over this already .

They loved him , but he has a feeling they at least love him for being a family member more then their son .

But he can’t help but wonder what they truly cared most for . Himself , or the fortune that was brought upon them .

.

. Caring . They were caring , his friends were so caring to him . He brang them up again . How many times has he did that ?

2 ?

It was 2 : 33 . No , he’s wrong , several minutes passed already . Several hours ? No , it’s still light out . He feels cold . Deathly cold . But the fans not on . Is it ? He doesn’t want to turn his head to check , he’s tired . He feels too under - stimulated . He wants to move , draw , run , jump , dance , but he can’t . He wants to . Will he ? He doesn’t care right now . Care ? If he asked that to anyone , everyone , how many answers will he receive . . Or how many will differ from the rest . Everyone has different feelings , different reactions , different expectations towards whatever . What would his friends say ? His parents ?

‘ tick ‘

.

.

What time was it again ?

#SURPRISE !! ANGST !!!! That’s right ! You got TRICKERED !! #IM ON BOTH SIDES LOSERS #BOW DOWN BEDORE THY MASTER #What ??? You thought that cause I started calling this a war I was gonna pick the wholesome side ?? PFFTTT #WHOLEISME STUFF COMING SOON BEWARE #😹😹😹 !!!! #Say what you wanna say and let the words fall out honestly I wanna see you be something idk #Number 1 victory royale yeah Fortnite im bout to get down ( get down ! ) #Idk the lyrics to that song #school bus graveyard #sbg #sbg (webtoon) #school bus graveyard webtoon #aiden clark

[merbear25]

Could I request prompt 18 with Vash? Maybe something sweet and sappy and a little angsty <3

Hello, hello! I understand that this didn't make it on the 200 followers list, but I couldn't resist writing it for Vash! He needs to be shown so much more love. I hope you like it 💜💜

Collections of a lovesick man

CW: SFW, gn!reader, a tad angsty, fluff

There was barely anything worthwhile in your town; each day was relatively bleak and was refected in the people. So when a charismatic laugh echoed down the alley, you stopped in your tracks. Curiosity got the best of you as you went to locate such a memorable display of joy.

Laying eyes on him, the man you'd later learn to be Vash was exchanging laughs with the formly gloomy residents. Going up to him, you were eager to get to know the man who unabashedly welcomed others―such warmth was what separated him from anyone else you'd met before.

He seemed friendly enough, but the following day you saw the whole town turning on him, accusing him of being a devil. Based on the brief interactions you had, he came across as a genuine person. Doubts of whether or not you should go to him were ignored as you went against your better judgement to offer a place for this gentle stranger to reside in.

After some convincing, you eventually wore him down. The time spent together was short, yet he still managed to leave a significant impression on you. When it came to him leaving, every fiber of your being was calling out to you to go with him. You knew the risks, but you couldn't help wanting to keep his vision of peace afloat. You wanted to keep that hope alive.

Allowing you to go with him was something he couldn't even wrap his head around. That being said, seeing his passion for love and peace mirrored back in you gave him the sense of home.

The more time you spent together, the closer you became: sharing dreams for the future and stories from the past. He was quickly earning a special place in your heart, and unbeknownst to you, you in his. Despite his habit of keeping people at arms length, he still craved connection just like everyone else. When you began journaling, noting down each and every detail the two of you encountered, he became curious. Not wanting to invade your privacy, he left you to it, writing your little heart away.

There was a time when you tossed one of your notes out, though. Unable to fight off his inquisitiveness, he took it out of the waste basket and read it. You jotted down your thoughts on what you'd set out to do with him: your hopes for success and fears of failure. Being able to have more insight into your innermost personal views felt wrong, yet he thought they should be cherished, not thrown away.

Whenever you threw out one of your notes, it was rescued by him, each one giving him a better understanding of where your head was. Spending time with you after reading these notes filled him with conflicting emotions: guilt and regret mixed with endearment and affection. With each passing day, the draw towards you had more of a pull, making it harder to hold off his rising interest in you.

Looking for something specific, you had a hunch it would be in Vash's room. Once opening a drawer, you saw a bunch of carefully folded paper that appeared to have once been wadded up. Thinking it strange to fold crinkled paper, you picked it up―then the others followed suit.

When you didn't return, Vash went to look for you, stumbling in on you discovering his little secret.

His apology for keeping such private thoughts of yours was caught in his throat, making you break the silence.

"You mean to tell me you've kept every single note?" Your tone showed no ill feelings, simply painting you in a light of bewilderment.

His heart was pounding, while he remained incapable of coming up with a proper excuse. "I did."

"Why?"

"I know you wanted to throw them away, but they seemed important. They are your feelings, after all." Looking down at the floor, shame crept in.

"Your hopes and dreams are just as important as your fears and woes." Still unable to meet your gaze, he assumed your eyes held betrayl and disgust. "I'm sorry."

Closing the gap between you, you placed a tender hand on his arm. Unsure what you could say to this, you motioned to embrace him, giving him space to refuse if he so wished.

When he finally brought his eyes to yours, the gentleness they held made him melt. In spite of his ever present fear of growing close to others, it wouldn't hurt to let you in, would it?

Opening his arms to welcome your solace lifted his spirits, set his busy mind to rest, and helped to bandage his lingering wounds.

Tightening your arms around him, you opened yourselves up to one another, allowing your vulnerabilities to be on full display. However frightening it felt, you were sure you were placing your heart in trustworthy hands.

#vash x reader #vash x you #trigun #trigun x reader #trigun x you #vash the stampede #trigun fluff #trimax #trigun maximum #vash #x reader

[gogobootz1]

The Mentor Pt. 6

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: Five more years of victordom have passed, but the Capitol is still throwing surprises at you. This time, in the from of

Part Five

A/N: SURPRISE! This is coming back because I felt like it and some lovely folks left comments recently ♥️ we can blame my absence on this semester, but thank putting off a 14 page final paper for this bout of productivity! (Also I was going for a ranch vibe with this pic? I'll start putting his face back on these soon lol)

Warnings: description of blood

Tears welled in your eyes as you finished dicing yellow onions, and you wiped your face with the back of your arm as you turned to scrape them into the pot. Caesar Flickerman’s voice floated in from your living room, the TV playing in the background so you could keep an eye on the quarter quell special. Count on Caesar to draw the whole thing out, emphasizing the significance of the anniversary and whatnot. You couldn’t help but be curious, though. The last quarter quell had fifty tributes, and you weren’t even alive to see it. You had, however, seen its effects on your occasional drinking buddy, so you were certain this year would be a doozy. 

It seemed Caesar was finally getting to the point as you began chopping a red pepper. He introduced the President, and your hand tightened around the knife as Snow began his address. That voice haunted your dreams, and hearing it at home was far more unpleasant than anywhere else. You did your best to tune him out. That was, until he announced it. 

“As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tribute are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.” 

Your ears began to ring, and suddenly, you couldn’t hear the rest. Existing pool of victors. Existing pool of victors. Sharp pain brought your vision back into focus, and you blinked to find blood from the backs of your knuckles spilling over your pepper. Though your brain stopped moving, your hands hadn’t. 

You took a silent step back from the counter, staring at the ruined cutting board. Tearing your gaze away, you started rifling through cupboards trying to find a towel. The ironclad grip your dominant hand kept on the knife wasn’t helping, but it certainly hadn’t occurred to you to let it go. Out of options, you shoved your hand under the faucet and watched water carry excess blood away.

Vaguely, you registered the pain in your hand as your water heater got to work, but your eyes stayed locked on the drain. A loud ring of the phone startled you out of your reverie, to the point where you’d launched your still-dirty kitchen knife into the wall next to it. But it pointed you in the direction of some towels, at least, and you snatched a clean one from the laundry basket on the stairs. 

Sat on the second to last stair, you hunched over to wrap your hand. The world felt surreal as you stared at your shoddily covered wound, only looking up when your door burst open. You weren’t surprised to see Darla. Her scraped knees, bloody nose, and breathlessness didn’t shock you either. She probably fell when running over, but you were sure you looked just as frazzled. Grabbing her a towel from the basket, you nudged her with it before she could sit. 

“Answer Finnick.” 

She picked the phone up from the receiver, doing a double take when she registered the kitchen knife. 

“Howdy,” she huffed, licking her top lip and clearing some blood. 

You could barely hear Finnick’s resigned tone from the other end. “Hey, D,” he breathed. “How’s…” he trailed off. 

“Well, there’s blood on the cabinets,” your head popped up when she said it. You hadn’t even noticed the trail you’d left in your wake, “Water on the floor, and a knife in the wall.”

The faucet was still on, too, and you definitely hadn’t turned off the stove. It was a relatively generous assessment from her. 

“Will you put her on?” 

Darla stuck the phone straight in your face. When you grabbed it she reached for another towel, and pushed it along the floor with her foot. 

“Finnick,” your tone was almost too even for the circumstance. 

“Don’t do it,” Finnick warned, knowing you far too well. 

“Save it,” you shot right back, “I know you’re thinking it too.” 

“I don’t have a choice,” he said firmly. "They all have kids. Who would I be if I didn’t?” 

Though Darla was busy cleaning up after your spell, you weren't stupid enough to think she wasn't listening. “You know I feel similarly,” you chose your words carefully. 

Finnick did know, he’d seen what you’d given up for Darla. How you’d put yourself through the wringer for years just to spare her. He had no doubt you’d act just the same now. Only he didn’t want you to. He would’ve hated seeing Darla in there, but he’d be a dead man if you were in the arena with him. Your stubbornness didn’t stop him from making a final plea. 

His soft call of your name cut your heart worse than you’d cut your hand. Suddenly, you could no longer bear speaking to the man who’d been your constant for the past five years. “I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll see you soon, Fin. Take care of yourself.” You stood and shoved the phone back on the receiver before he could say another word. Talking to him, thinking about him, neither would help you hold yourself together. 

You stepped away from the phone, but stopped in your tracks to look at the knife. Some of your blood still lingered. 

“Leave it,” Darla called from the kitchen, “it’s a bold new piece of decor.” She’d taken up interior design in the wake of her victory. You shook your head with a tiny smile tugging at the corner of your lip. 

Coming to her side, you both looked down into the pot she’d taken off the stove. Burnt onion wouldn’t make much of a base. “There’s leftover pasta in the fridge,” you offered, sadly. 

“Yes please,” she nodded quietly. You passed behind her to heat some up, and she settled onto one of the stools at your counter. It took you a minute one-handed, but Darla seemed too absorbed in quiet reflection to care. 

She dug in as soon as you slid her a bowl, but you stopped short before sitting down with your own. She raised a brow. 

“I’ll be back,” you shook your head, taking your dish and slipping on shoes. The wind whisked straight through your clothes as you crossed the street. 

Darby had never been close with you, nor Darla. He was there when she won, and you could tell he was somewhat relieved to only bring home one casket. But you weren’t close enough for him to tell you that, because he wasn’t your trainer.

He wasn’t even there when you’d won. The story was that Darby was too ill. It was true, only the illness was drug induced. District Ten had only one trainer that year. 

The woman who had trained Darby had trained you, and you were the last District Ten victor she’d lived to see. Sam was kind but incredibly sharp. Gentle, yet challenging. Observant and astute, she’d assessed you for all you were and marketed a more palatable version to the good citizens of the Capitol. Beyond helping you survive the games, she helped you navigate the aftermath. Without Sam and without your Nana, you wouldn’t have lasted a month outside the arena. She picked you up and dusted you off again and again like your mother had when you were a girl who thought she was invincible. No time had hurt as badly as losing your first tributes, though, but Sam saw you through that too. 

Before your second try at mentoring, however, she’d died. A horseback riding accident was the official story, but Sam had left the leather watch she loved at your house just before. She insisted on doing the dishes after you’d made dinner, and you later found it by the sink. Sometimes you swore you caught glimpses of her long silver braid. Each time it happened, you opened the drawer of your nightstand to stare at her watch.

Her death hit Darby hard, they’d been the only two Ten victors for a while. He hardly held it together during Darla’s games. Afterwards, he fell apart.

You’d been mentoring with Darla ever since, comforting her with each loss as Sam had with you. But you knew Darby had seen this announcement, and everyone in the district knew what it meant. 

You stood at his door a few minutes after knocking. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt compelled to come over anyway.  

A blue eye peaked from where the door had finally opened a crack. You held up the still-steaming bowl as an offering. Darby pulled the door fully open and stalked off into his house. Trailing after him, and closing the door behind you, you noticed how skinny he’d gotten since you’d last seen him. 

“Thanks,” he said, raspy, when he took the bowl from you finally. You could only nod. 

“I’m sorry,” you offered, knowing full-well how little it meant. Darby only sighed and shook his head. 

He shrugged, stabbing a fork firmly into the bowl. “I always had that feeling,” he shook his head. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he went on, “that it wasn’t over. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. They own us, of course they’d want us back.” 

His passe tone rattled you. You nervously wiped your non-covered palm on your pants, “Right.” You looked around his dusty home awkwardly, “Well, see you soon.” Trying to leave him in peace and for your own, you made for the exit. 

“I’ll say hi to Sam for you,” he said from behind you, mouth full. It stopped you in your tracks. You couldn’t even look back at him. 

“Thanks.” 

————————

The months leading up to the reaping were hellish, with you and Darla trying to shed your rustiness. You insisted you both throw your all into prepping for this, but that was mostly a ruse. Volunteering for her had been your plan since the announcement. At the very least, you enjoyed your time at home with her. You hadn’t gotten any calls about trips to the Capitol, and Finnick told you he hadn’t either. At least they were letting you enjoy your last few months alive. 

As Winter went, and Spring too, the day had finally come. Off to die for the second time. 

You zipped the fly on a pair of jeans you hadn’t ever worn. Your stylists had shoved them in your closet a long time ago- since they looked exactly like the ones you’d won in. The head gamemaker your year had a background in fashion, and gave tributes plenty of chances to change dirty or worn clothes in for unique ones.  People loved the look so much that denim had been a brief Capitol fashion trend. You figured it’d send a message to anyone who knew. After all, you’d cheated death in these once, you could do it again. 

You were up early, and since you and Darla had agreed to arrive separately, you took a long walk around your home district. Your long lap, with sights you’d grown up loving and smells you’d always scrunched your nose at, was met with a few pitying glances. Eventually, it lead you to the Justice Building, and you took an extremely early seat. People took their places as the hours passed. 

"Remember, it’s just for show," Sam’s voice rang in your head. It was the last thing she said to you before you entered the arena. 

“Hey,” your head snapped to your right where Darla took her seat. She looked tense. You took her hand and squeezed it, a silent reassurance. It’s not you. You’ll be ok. I’ll miss you. 

The district filed in for the ceremony, unusually unorganized. The only people the Peacemakers were concerned about policing, however, were already on stage. 

Your annoyingly vibrant district escort began the ceremony, and you ignored her for as long as you could bear it. “Ladies first,” you blinked to attention, head held high. This was it. Dug your nails into your palm to stop your hands from shaking. You swallowed. I volunteer as tribute. You willed the words to the front of your brain, hopefully convincing your mouth to form them when the time came. 

But you didn’t have to. She had called your name. You willed your face to remain impassive as you squared your shoulders. You forced yourself to take a proud step forward. Perception was everything here. You couldn’t look weak, not to the capitol, and not to your fellow tributes. 

“I volunteer as tribute!” 

Your well-crafted mask fell with the words. Shoulders sank as you turned to her in shock. Not once did you think she’d volunteer for you. But you could almost hear Finnick’s voice reminding you how similar you were. It was why you got along like a house on fire. Only, this time you had been so recklessly loyal to her you’d miscalculated. And it would almost certainly cost your tribute her life. 

“Darla,” you breathed, quiet enough for only her to heard, and sharp enough for it to come across as scolding. 

She didn’t even turn your way. 

You were escorted straight to the train before Darby could even be picked by default. The new (old) District Ten tributes were escorted straight to the train as well. Only then could you confront your mentee. 

“What the fuck was that?!” You stood in a rage. She walked right past you toward the couches, but you caught her wrist.  

“You don’t get to scold me for saving your life,” she shook her head, and tugged her wrist free.

“Sure I do, when you’ve acted like a fool! It was random, D! We agreed to let it be random!” 

“Oh, that’s rich!” She scoffed. 

“Excuse me?!” 

“You’re still lying! You really think I didn’t know you were going to volunteer for me?” Darla asked, throwing her hands up in frustration. She fell back onto the couch. 

You stepped back, anger fully dissipated. “What?” 

“You hung up on Finnick nearly every time I’d walk in,” she shrugged, “you’re brave not subtle.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you lowered yourself onto the luxurious Capitol sofa next to her. For a second, you let your head fall into your hands. 

“Still,” you persisted, looking straight ahead, “it was going to be me. You didn’t have to-“ 

“I know what all you’ve done for me,” she said simply. You sat straight up, finding her face with wide eyes. No.

“Finnick?” He wouldn’t. 

“Johanna,” she shook her head. Your shoulders sagged. It made sense that Johanna knew, she was almost in the same situation. And you wouldn’t have expected them to keep things from each other, not before they broke up at least. 

“Darla,” you started. Why hadn’t she confronted you when she found out? How long had she been holding on to this knowledge? Did she think differently of you? 

“You’ve been falling on your sword for me for five years,” Darla said solemnly, “it’s high time I took it away from you.” 

Your stomach ached, and tears blurred your vision, “D.” 

She pulled you in for a hug when your voice broke. “You gave me my life back,” she whispered, “I’m only doing the same.” 

You pulled away from her, wiping vigorously at your face. “I won’t watch you lose.” 

She sniffled a wry laugh, “then make me win. Maybe this time it'll stick.” 

————————————————————

taglist: @emerald-09 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @daixylie @fandomhopped

@axelinchen

@whens-naptime

@avoxrising

@erindiggory

@commanderfreethatdust

@blackdxggr

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@iheartspderman

@slytherinfolk25

@cassiecasluciluce

Sorry if you no longer want to be tagged and sorry for this formatting (Tumblr is confusing and it's the only way the tags would work?) ! Let me know and I'll remove you from (or add anyone who wants to be on) the list

#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games

[fanofthelamb]

So I went dumpster diving in my tablet for the first lamb I ever drew and WOW... I found a lot of sketches I really don't plan on revisiting. I am jsut gonna dump them below the cut for people to see!! Some of it is lore related, some of it is shit I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING HATE, but IDC!!! I will post it anyway for the tumblr users who I keep an eye on my notifs for. (yes, i see you guys. even if i dont always interact I see you and love you guys)

Anyway, here is the earliest drawin I have of me drawing the lamb!! I am going to write a comment under a lot of these to add context to them.

A cute little baby <3333 but I struggled a LOT of figuring out what the lamb was wearing, I eventually figured it out though. (I hope)

if you know, you know. (RIP VAL)

for my BTG AU. I decided I no longer wanted chemach to make the [spoiler] for the lamb, though, so I scrapped this

vaaaal,,,,,, i was still learning how to draw him, i wish i put pants on him but do those even exist in COTL? (yes)

I haven't been able to do much with them because I'm putting other stuff first, but Brear has two kids, Notre and Brejul who Narinder absolutely ADORES. he is the one who babysits.

fun fact but the lamb being touch repulsed is a projection LOL. i hate it when people touch me it feels so tickly and makes me want to bite their faces off. (but i am touch starved and i LOVE to show affection to other ppl, esp thru back rubs)

yes, they have a hoop for personal space. no, ill never use it.

drum corcl,,,, i love the little dancing guy that comes from the drums

more narinder and brear. they're not romantically interested in each other, but he is absolutely head over heels for brear, their brother, and the kids. they even call him dad sometimes.

[no context]

kallamar and leshy before their crowns. the scene i have related to this isn't happening anymore, but it was leshy begging to be taught to swim.

another "the one who baby sits" doodle. the bishops all came into the cult with a very good repuation thanks to narinder. he likes to tell the kids of the cult stories about how amazing his siblings were. at first, it was just to nobre and brejul with stories about leshy(he missed leshy a lot even though he was still mad at him, and the two reminded narinder of his time with leshy), but then it escalated into him hosting storytimes with larger groups after they started repeating some of the stories he'd tell them.

unfinsihed stuff about with the lamb and thier mom. their mom wasn't afraid of the bishops at all, but knew that they were a still a threat to her and her child's life. the lamb did NOT care for anyone thier mom didn't approve of/enthusiastically liked. they were much more afraid of the bishops than their mother.

i do not actually know if i posted this.i dont think so, but i giggle every time i scroll past it

brear and nobre <333

im still workong on BTG shit, and i post a little bit of the characters on here even tho the comics are going to be posted elsewhere. they have a "crownlike" beak, but a body part. there's different creatures who became gods through different ways; crowns are one way but their power is stuck with the crown and they are considered extremely weak compared to other gods. i wont blabber on about it tho.

so many sketches has random lines through em because i work with a tablet,,, i hate it. anyway, narinder and kallamar everybody!

sketches i made but didn't bother to finish of me and merbre,,,,,,,,, my husband #1 <3 them w/ narinder + merbre arent gonna be considered "canon" but damn it ill self-ship with them until i get a follower i can WORK with

i come back to this every few weeks and im never happy with it, i dont know if ill finish this but i think about them........ before the divorce </3

unused from an ask

heartstealer. menace. you can rip my heart out anytime, leshy <3

dreshy. he LOVES dresses and being pretty and cute and pretty. he sucks narinder into a lot and heket will sometimes join in if he demands asks her to <3

another unused drawing from an ask i'll eventually answer. (mildly offended at being called a mutton cube.)

.... aaand WOW! I think that's everything guys!! things are still kinda wild but they're calming down a little bit. idk how much longer it's gonna last like this but I have some energy so I made a way-too-long post showing off art I wasn't supposed to post! Awesome. :D

#cw gore #cotl au stuff in here #23 pics under the cut btw #cotl #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl spoilers #cotl kallamar #cotl leshy #i dont think ill tag anymore #idek if i should've tagged this post at all #but well see how it plays out!! #THIS POST TOOK FOREVER TIME TO GO CLEAN

[sclfmastery]

Quickfire hot take but, even though I totally grasp each of us having favorite regens of the doctor and the master, both individually and together, as symbols of their ever-evolving positions along their personal and relationship journey.... I will never ever understand fan (or canon...) portrayals that draw such a sharp line of favoritism from the characters themselves.

Missy said "they're all the Doctor to me" when recalling a memory to Clara, and to me that encapsulates the enduring nature of their intense bond. To me that is THE line. Regeneration is a form of death and rebirth, but certain core traits are immutable, particularly to two people who are narrative foils, who have known each other for centuries (or possibly millennia) and keep being thrown together by fate again and again and again.

Bottom line is, every Doctor is the same person, and so is every Master. Acting as though one of them only cares for select versions of the other is just so strange to me. They aren't us. To them, it's just like loving (or hating, or both) someone through the eras of their life. Their same life, broken down into stages od evolution and devolution. It's the same person.

I can point to the exact episode (a lol very polarizing episode in Series 10) where I think this "they're not the same person from face to face" trend got exponentially more pronounced, but anyone who knows me knows what that episode is. I truly believe it's a disservice to every version of every Doctor and Master involved.

And I really don't think that Spydoc, which came soon thereafter, is just the playing-out of the consequences of a MASSIVE miscommunication between soul mates. It IS that, but not JUST. I think all of the writing about Thoschei that followed the exacerbating episode was trying to force this inaccurate distortion, this illusion of separateness, which is part of what made the events in Power of the Doctor so painful to Thoschei fans. The Doctor walked away from the Master (literally and figuratively, ironically inviting his inevitable despair--and her own demise) partly out of understandable hurt and rage and caution, but also out of a cold, repulsed misunderstanding: "Missy was willing to change and you regressed, you're a different person than she was, and you have angered me to the point of indifference; I am able to turn off caring about you because you are unrecognizable from her, the version of you that I could control save."

Maybe Whittaker's response is intended by Chibnall: we're supposed to recognize that she's wrong but HAS to be in order to survive another betrayal by the Master, which is what makes it all so tragic.

But I think fan reception has taken the whole thing ( "each Doctor and each Master is an entirely discrete self-contained being") too far, and it bothers me, so much, I think, because it's a trope that enforces the idea that love is transactional and contingent (in such a way that also perhaps unwittingly targets the socially, culturally, and economically marginalized). If you're the "good, small, manageable version" of yourself, then you're easier to love, and it's worth the investment. Otherwise, "you gambled and you lost," and you deserve to die lying in the filth of your own poor decisions. I get why that's an appealing, vindicting plot device, from the POV of an audience member who has felt hurt or even abused IRL. I understand it, I've BEEN the Doctor many times. It just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe that's just me. I could be at peace with that, as a Whovian :P.

But, in-universe, it's based on a premise that's factually erroneous! Dhawan's Master IS Missy IS Delgado IS Simm IS Jacobi IS Ainley IS Roberts IS Beevers etc etc etc. Just as Whittaker's Doctor is a RESPONSE to Capaldi's, but ALSO still IS Capaldi's. And Tennant's. And Baker's (x2). And Eccleston's. And Gatwa's. And Pertwee's. Etc etc. Dhawan's Master was the Prime Minister of the UK and also made chairs that eat people and also cried remembering the names of people she killed. It's the SAME PERSON.

Lol, not quickfire at all. It's an old bone to pick, I know. I just can't stop finding the whole trope...very itchy.

(ok to reblog...dunno if anyone would, LOL, but feel free to reblog and to comment).

I'm gonna tag some ppl I know I've chatted about this with before to see if there are new insights. And feel completely free to disagree with me on any count. @natalunasans @mostincrediblechange @drummingncise @modernwizard @nickcagestrufflehog @rearranging-deck-chairs @koschei-no-more @likeacharacterinamusical

#meta #thoschei meta #or just kinda me yelling lol)

[chibi-tsukiko]

Nature’s Beauty 🍃🌸🦋

Mark, Kieran & Cristina

I saw this on Pinterest and thought of Mark immediately. It’s giving fairy cottagecore Prince 😍

(As folks on insta pointed out, Matthew would have also rocked this look)

Somehow I always end up drawing Kierarktina to start the new year ✨

I hope you like it!

Head over to instagram to see individual pics.

Characters owned by @cassandraclare

Tag list : @littleturtle95 @zfoxdraws @bookworm-jedi @magnus-the-maqnificent @beclynn-herondale @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @youngreckless @thomaslightwood @runecarstairs @high-warlock-of-brooklyn @panicatwallmaria @banesbitch @alexandergideonslightwood @ofsandstonebodies @la-lune-chaotique @starlight-in-my-eyes @tamaraheartz @anarchistbitch @iightwoodbane @icycoolslushie @zemiraa @raziyekroos @radisv @elettralightwood @axoloteca @queenlilith43 @astriefer @thomastaircompassrose @alastairstom @rinadragomir @carelessflower

#each time I draw them I love them even more #my art #kierarktina #kieran kingson #mark blackthorn #cristina rosales #tsc #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #emsart

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for voting in the poll to decide who was going to be the leader of the band! It turned out to be such a close race!

#poorly drawn mdzs #better drawn mdzs #mdzs #madam lan #A-qing #Band AU #(Reminder that Madam Lan's design inspiration goes to Qourmet!) #Madam Lan may have been the winner per vote count but there were so many strong advocates for A-Qing! #I played around with a few versions of what the 'poll winner' art was going to be and ultimately decided I wanted them both. #As any good theater love knows though - The battle for leadership was a ruse. They *all* get a chance to be featured. #Cooperation was the real end goal! However I do think these two have the best frontman energy of the group. #Or at least 'crowd favourite' energy. I also really loved hearing what people thought their vocal styles would be like! #This was probably one of my favourite polls to do and I love drawing these characters a lot B*) #I'd love to spend a bit more time in this AU so count on me bringing it back. #One thing I keep feeling like I need to redeem myself on is Madam Lan's Translucent skirt. I have *not* done the concept justice yet. #It is such a crack-platonic ship but I want to think Madam Lan and A-Qing would enjoy each other's company. #Possibly also with JYL as well. They can be like mutually beneficial therapy dogs to each other. #Madam Lan never got to see her kids grow up into teenagers after all. She only had sons. Never daughters. #Even if she saw her kids once a month we do know she treated them with so much love and kindness. #She would bite the shit out of YZY for yelling at JYL. What a sight to see. A-Qing would also start biting (for fun).

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

#ace attorney tag #maybe i should tag this narumitsu or something. but i dont really care. #gearing up to rereading/illustrating bits of my fic i suppose...i think nick really is too dense to realise he's in love with edgeworth #without some scheming fop trying to intrude. i love villains like kristoph..villains can be fun..witnessing their pathetic folly.. #or more like edgeworth would never have mentioned his feelings ever in his life if he wasn't sure phoenix reciprocates. #i want to see it this way because Falling in love during childhood with the person you're going to end up with. is not relatable #there have to be Situations that make you Realise. #as with orufrey i adore the idea of people not working out their romance with that person until their 30s+ #but... i mean. even with orufrey i often think how alaira could be qifrey's ex. and oru having been pursued by noble fops through his work #there is that delicate sliver of time before orufrey start living together that such believable situations could have happened. #Then the relief of politely and amicably extricating themselves from those untenable situations #the idea of falling in love age 7 and saving your first kiss for age 35 or something is all very well but more relatable is #people realising how they really feel whilst trying something that ends up feeling wrong. #The comfort and joy of living with your dearest one as if it's platonic - much preferable to trying anything more with anyone else. #But i doubt i will ever portray that or mention it further. it is indeed very delicate to me. #and i really am an OTP FOR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! kind of person who can barely bear to consider this anyway...NOT a polyshipper i'm afraid ! #so i wouldn't mind either if they do have their first kiss in their lives age 35 with each other either. I would not mind that at all. #i love bi/gay couples apparently... bi father figures & their grumpy gay men waiting for them to work it all out... #not used to using colour in comic-style drawings..or at all..so this is messy and awkward looking..but colour is refreshing #i imagine i will go back to witch hat art soon btw. my destiny in life. #i still remember writing my nrmt fic expecting to write their first kiss & then partway through twas like Umm No. They have kissed prior. #does that really line up with this comic though... i think i had their early dinner dates/first kiss BEFORE disbarment. #so i guess this comic doesn't line up with my ficverse.... No..... U___U Oh well. sorry kris! <3

[sysig]

Two big softies(?) (Patreon)

#Doodles #Handplates #UT #Fellplates #Gaster #Flowey #Flowey is still my favourite UT character so honestly a lot of this was just self-indulgent doodles lol #But then - as always - it did turn into Thinking A Lot about [thing] lol #Starting with the classic tho! Flowey friendly-like coiled around whoever he's talking to ♪ It's too fun hehe #I love Flowey getting just a liiiiittle too close and personal to a discomfort degree ♫ He's just being friendly! It's a hug! A snuggle! #He's your best friend so you don't mind right? :) Why would Fellplates!Gaster mind ♪ #He's always posed to stage right when I draw him haha - I'm still fond of the one Gravity Falls/Undertale crossover piece I made with him #Anyhow lol - yet more fluffy wings! It's just fun if they're expressive I want real feathers lol #Gaster's face completely neutral but his wings all puffed up and freaked out hehe #Flowey would definitely be able to tell if those are when he chose to wrap around! #If they were just the decorative version he'd fall right off from his own weight pulling them loose lol #Absolutely thinking of the one of Gaster screaming while being vine-wrapped by Flowey haha - he's totally innocent here! ♥ #And then a little idea of how each of them react to humans - UkaGaster talks a lot about his general positive feelings for humans #And Fell!Flowey is.....well I have my own thoughts about how he might react to humans now that he's been...himself for a while #There have been Fallen Humans in the time between being locked in the Underground and [now] even in Underfell hasn't there? #I guess none of them would've made it as far as meeting up with Gaster - bit of a dark thought heh - but Flowey would know #Is it selfish? To wish for humans or to keep them a secret from the rest of the Underground? What might happen? #It's interesting to think about! If there were humans then surely Gaster must be aware of the Souls? #But even if not - even if this could be before all that - Flowey would still know about human Determination to an extent - being what he is #It wouldn't turn out well for anyone :) That's what makes it interesting ♪