#[ hello! ^^ it's been awhile ]

[gomzdrawfr]

if you see this, this is your sign to lean on your crush, DO IT!

[spectremarvel]

He's a growing boy!!

[probablyanalienindisguise]

Thr critter in minecraft that's coming out at some point (its so silly)

[hiding-under-the-willow]

44 <3

And when I finally kissed him The whole world began to ring

Song that makes me draw ship art for the first time since February apparently?

[yetdevout]

things have changed (wip)

[heyitsdoe]

Soooo...this happened 👀

[suspensefulpen]

Not Again

TW: Kidnapping, Captive Whumpee, Chain Restraints

Whumpee pulled at the chain locked over their ankle. They’ve been trying since they woke up. They woke up in a basement alone. They weren’t sure where but something about it looked familiar — they couldn’t put their finger on it.

Obviously, someone kidnapped them and decided to throw them in a basement. But the question is, who would do that and why?

Even more so, why weren’t they dead yet?

Whumpee glanced around to find something sharp but came up empty handed. They sighed and went back to attempting to pull the chain from its base in the wall.

They instantly froze at the sound of footsteps over their head. Gently, they placed down the chain and listened. It wasn’t long before the steps stopped at a door that was far from Whumpee’s grasp. The locks moving filled the short silence before the door creaked open, revealing—

“Whumper?” They exhaled. A smile slowly appeared on their face. “I’m so glad you’re here! You can get me out of this. I’ve been trying for forever now. If you can just—”

They were silenced when he began to laugh.

Did they miss something? Or was this just an elaborate joke to scare Whumpee?

“No, no Whumpee.” He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “I am the reason you’re here.”

“What?” They rolled their eyes, a smile on their face. “Oh I get it. You’re mad about that— listen, it was a bad idea and I—”

“Oh I’m mad alright.” He descended down the stairs, coming closer. “But the reason is not what you think.”

Whumpee raised a brow. Whumper stopped in front of them, kneeling down to their level. He gently lifted their chin.

“You got away from me Whumpee.” His voice was low and gentle yet pained. “And you almost got hurt. I’m not letting that happen again. Because I’m never gonna let you go.”

[roscoehamiltons]

LHFW 2024 graphics: Brazilian Grand Prix

[vimceite]

"Let me escape it, let me love it"

[poscipeep]

No one but You

[tobeywobey]

hi nightvalers. .. ..

🟊 commissions 🟊

[overhauling]

HORIKOSHI !! GIVE CHISAKI CLOSURE BEFORE MHA ENDS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS !!!!!!

[too-much-time-in-space]

Narrator: "She did, in fact, not like that"

[porloquevivoyo]

[wholegrainporkndbeans]

Ummm cringe alert!!! Haha cringe moment!!!!! who's up cringing their moment rn!!!! (This took me two hours)

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday (on a Thursday): The Redemption and Subsequent Death of Bill Cipher - Chapter 11

“What’s portal scum?” asks Dipper.

“A buildup of organic material around where dimensions and realities converge,” Ford explains. “They’re very common in places where the space between realities is particularly thin. Most fairy rings are just places where reality is thin, but this is—“

“So thin, you could sneeze into the next reality,” Bill interrupts, ignoring the way that Ford frowns at him. “Why it hasn’t cause more problems is anyone’s guess. Well, no time like the present.”

Bill flexes his hands a little as the five of them stand around the portal scum. He looks at them all and they look back at him in kind, earning a nod from each of them.

“So, what? We just tear it apart?” Mabel reaches her hands out in front of her, but Stan stops her before she gets too far.

“Let poindexter’s poindexter deal with it. Don’t need you getting sucked into another reality, sweetie.”

“Just… keep close, but stand back,” Bill tells everyone. He takes a second, tapping the cane to the ground. It’s less pomp and circumstance when he changes forms this time, but Ford’s nostrils still flare slightly. Freak.

“Hands up.” And Ford lifts his hands as Bill comes to stand in the ring made by his arms. Normally, he’d lean into the heat of Ford’s body against his back, but there’s not really a time for at the moment.

He grabs Ford’s hands and sets them up—thumbs touching, index fingers touching, and then he angles it until it makes a nigh perfect triangle. Bill shifts and moves and steps with Ford, the pair of them moving together until Bill lets out a soft “ah-ha!”

“What is it?” Ford asks, breath hot on the back of Bill’s head, an unbidden shiver rushing down his spine. “What does it look like?”

“Distorted. Like a tear.” Which is a far more simplistic answer. Bill can see into the space between Ford’s hands perfectly and it’s like a window into something else. The space between his hands shows an open void only broken up by the occasional glitter of stars. As Bill moves his hands from one way and then the other, more stars show until he comes to this place that’s just like there’s a tear in fabric. It’s rough and uneven and inside of the tear pulses something purple and bubbling almost like molten rock.

Bill lifts a hand and reaches into the space between Ford’s fingers. It’s like pushing through nothing before his fingers catch on the edge of the tear. He feels the unevenness against his gloved fingers, biting into the material and his hand. Shifting, he squeezes his other hand into the space, pushing on Ford’s hands a bit. Even when the picture fizzles out because Ford’s hands are no longer holding a triangle, Bill can still feel what he’s gripping onto. He slides his other hand against his first before turning it, catching the opposite side. Anchored in, he takes in a deep breath that just looks like his body sighing. His eye snaps up to the Pineses all staring at him.

“I’m going to open it,” he says slowly, testing his grip. “Are you ready?”

He gets nods from Mabel, from Dipper, from Stan, and from Ford. It’s as ready as any of them are going to be.

Bill plants his feet once again and looks down into a void he can’t see, but feel. One more breath, Bill tightens his arms, and then, all at once, he jerks his hands apart.

And the tear, well, tears.

Nothing happens for a moment. Everyone looks at each other with an obvious sort of confusion.

“Great! Bill broke it,” Stan gripes. Bill lets go of the riff to raise his finger and point at Stan when suddenly a wave of air knocks them all back. Bill is the only one to stay on his feet, cane behind him and pushed into the dirt to lean against.

The fact he’s on his feet is a miracle. He looks around and he can’t find the source of the wind until he looks back at the tear, sees it ripple and stretch.

The Pineses behind him get to their feet, the picture of ready and waiting. Bill spreads a hand out to the side, fire igniting in his palm as he waits for the first wave to erupt from the hole.

The attack, however, comes from behind.

Bill cries out as a weight wraps his waist and knocks him forward. He goes flying forward and keeps going.

Dottie Gleeful has her arms wrapped around Bill’s waist, dragging him straight into the tear. Bill tries to wrestle her off of him, but she continues to cling until, suddenly, Dottie lets go, but another shape is wrapped around him as they tumble through the hole and into the nebulously dark abyss.

Bill tumbles end over end before the weight comes off of him and he’s just floating in space.

Copernicus is the same ball of energy and matter Bill had seen before, three pairs of limbs coming off his body. Countless eyes gaze Bill as the demon starts to laugh. Arms spread out to the side, he spins around in a circle and grins.

“Oh, now, this is much better. Hm, but it’s not complete, is it?”

Six hands snap their fingers and, much like Bill would change his own appearance at will, Copernicus’ form starts to squash and stretch—legs lengthen, a torso from the condensed gas that had made up his body. Up and out he churns until there’s a creature that looks far too similar to Bill with long limbs, though white in color, clothes of the deepest purple, and a swirling mass of eyes making up his face.

“Very original,” Bill sneers, scrambling in the air for a second, unable to make heads or tails of the way that he’s positioned. The issue is simple—with the door to the Nightmare Realm open, Copernicus has all of his powers. Bill’s powers, the full kit and caboodle, reside in the pocket of a salamander who doesn’t wear clothes.

Inconvenient.

What he’s got is good, but temporary and limited, liable to give out from too much use. But Bill doesn’t need the full wrath of the former King of the Nightmare Realm to do away with a pest. Probably.

“You look like a newly formed sprout!” Copernicus cackles, turning over onto his stomach, feet kicked up in the air. “Can’t even float.”

“I’m— I’m floating just—“ Bill curses loudly, shoving his feet down and only managing to drift a few inches up and rotate feet over head. “Shut up!”

“Goodness, Billy, this is too easy.” Copernicus continues to chortle, leaning his amorphous head on one of his six fists. He raises one of the other ones and a bolt of lightning forms in it. Bill’s eye gets wide and there’s a moment of panic. Copernicus’ eyes, all too many of them, squint before he throws the bolt at Bill in a lazy sort of throw.

It comes careening at Bill and— Sweet Moses.

His hands go up, he’s not entirely sure what’s going to happen, but, just like before, the bright blue shield goes up and the bolt ricochets off, careening into nothingness Bill can’t help but laugh.

“Ha! Oh, you thought! You thought!” Bill grins, still floating sort of miserably, but at least in the confines of a large, fiery blue bubble.

“Do you really expect to be able to do anything more than block things out?” Copernicus offers a simpering sigh. “You are on a limited time-strain, I, on the other hand, am back to my full powers.”

“Oh, Cooper, even then, you’re still nothing compared to me.”