essentialsfa

[eleventeenratsinaflannelsuit]

Here have another grian au with some good old fanart.

uh, good luck actually translating the au description?

yeah i memorised it for fun in 8th grade, don't worry, definitely not mentally stable

his alignment is chaotic lawful - he follows the rules. his rules. his own loopholes to his own rules. no one has any idea what his morals are.

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 4: Haunted

[seepingfrommyskin]

"My sweet little magic user...Uwee-hee-hee!"

happy october and official spooky season :)

[deityoftherain]

Flower Husbands ATLA AU Fanart&Fanfic

I was paired with lavenderjellies10 for @mcytblraufest this year!

phases of the moon

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M, Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 5,388

Summary: Scott is the Tribal Prince of the Northern Water Tribe and he's not allowed to leave Agna Qel'a. Oh yeah, and his health is connected to the phases of the moon. Jimmy, on the other hand, is an ambassador, traveling back and forth between the Earth Kingdom and Scott's home. He wants nothing more than to settle down and cement his life by Scott's side. There's just one little thing he doesn't know yet...

@lavenderjellies3 created the ATLA AU fanart as seen above and I wrote the Flower Husbands fanfiction inspired by/based off of it ^^

[bonebuckets]

you know what. I’m just gonna say it. now that I know I have support, The Silt Verses IS the best recent audio drama out there.

[redcallisto]

Danstelle week 2023 Day 3 - University | Snow Day

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3

rambles:

BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!

based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk

since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!

you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke

the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3

he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)

im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots

ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well

[ninjautizm]

Hii!! By the time im typing this ur inbox is probably loaded. I just wanna say that your art is so mesmerizing. Like the soft and tenderness from it's texture, whether you are drawing a domestic scene or rough action-y scenes, are all divine to he translates into your specific style aaagh.

Also if requests are still open, maybe something like Misako is freezing from the winter so he hugs her to transfer some dragon/Oni heat thing (it's a hc of mine :p)

RAAHH TY TY!! I like to think he uses his dragon wings to support some heat,, like a blanket,,

funnily enough though,, garmadon has used his powers before as a heating source!! shown in a comic magazine,, so its possible for garm to use his powers to heat up,,

[bonetrousledbones]

very rushed and very messy but here is frisk at college for the 9th anniversary :> they probably wouldn't be able to go home for every celebration, but video calls can substitute well enough in the meantime

[fuumiku]

Happy old man beam episode day!!! Fanart for the marchil tallman AU where they’re coworkers at home depot, find it on ao3. My beloveds

Extra versions under cut btw I really like this Chil face. Might color one day who knows. I am indecisive and also Chil is perfection no matter the amount of wrinkles, so

[cartoonartistpng]

(Old post)

If Sonic and co. are aged down in the Classic games then…

[dragondawdles]

forbidden pudding

[anonymocha]

Laplace STOP hiring teenagers CHALLENGE (GONE WRONG)

[fann1details]

jester meetup mmmm

[rockingrobin69]

Numbly

“I've been informed,” Harry Potter burst through the door with his habitual earth-quake of a shout, “that you don’t even like peppers!”

“Good morning,” Draco said dryly. Harry Potter glared.

With a sigh, Draco retreated to the kitchen to fetch the biscuits from the cupboard.

Around his third one, an insistent crumb hanging to his upper lip with all its tiny might: “Peppers, Malfoy!”

“Pardon?”

“Peppers!”

Draco blinked. “If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what on earth you’re on about.”

“Pansy said you hate them!”

He looked absolutely outraged. Draco sipped his long-cold tea.

“Do I?”

“She said you’re allergic!”

“Am I?”

“Stop—fucking with me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” But the corner of his lips was twitching. “I’m not allergic. I was simply a horribly dramatic child and she still naïve back when we were, what, six. Seven. I’m fine with peppers now.”

Harry Potter pouted, terribly chipmunk-ish, and even put the biscuit pack down. Down to business. “I cooked the—bloody hell, Malfoy, just, honestly. Why wouldn’t you say? That you hate peppers. I would’ve made something else. I would have happily—why?”

Utterly bemused, “I am. Honest, I mean. I don’t mind peppers anymore.”

“That’s a fucking lie and we both know it.”

Grasping at straws and failing, at least managing to stop the wobble of his stupid mouth, the automatic turning downwards. Went for his cup instead. The tea was ice-cold and flavourless and Draco poured it down his throat like it could cure him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he then said, venomous, and turned his eyes back to the wall, where they refused to stay. It was always like this when Harry Potter barged into his flat. Even the water stains on the ceiling lost their usual allure and could not hold his attention. “If it’s raining, cast a bloody Impervious. Or take an umbrella.”

Harry Potter took a deep breath instead, sounding awfully, weirdly small. Some of the tension bled out of him in increments, his shoulders first, then the fists unclenching, then his belly un-hardening. His jaw was last. Draco was helplessly mesmerised by the transformation.

“You’re impossible,” but his voice finally not straining, his fingers not twitching towards the biscuits. No longer needing the obvious distraction. “Next time, if I make something you dislike, you have to tell me.”

“An order,” Draco huffed. “How sweet.”

Harry Potter could blush all the way to the roots of his hair. It was such a stunning, breath-stealing wonder to witness.

“It’s not a… fuck you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat there in strangely amicable silence. The oven still gave that choking, desperate cough every ten seconds, and it set a nice framework for their breathing, for the non-fidgeting. Harry Potter was always fidgety, but not when he sat in Draco’s kitchen like this.

“What’s your schedule? For today. Nev said you’re doing overtime again.” Leaning back, giving Draco that look all his friends liked to wear, the one on the border of a telling-off. It didn’t usually work on him, but Harry Potter had a slight edge to his disappointment that made Draco’s skin crawl.

“Not—exactly. Shouldn’t be so late. I’ll be home for bedtime, Mother, I promise.”

Even his mother didn’t glare like that. “Third time this week? I kind of want to strangle your boss.”

“Ha. I should inform you that violence is usually frowned upon in the workplace.”

He didn’t smile, but he came near it. Draco could tell, because the corners of his eyes were dancing. “Does it count if it's not my workplace?”

“Mm. Fair enough. Strangle away.”   

Now he was smiling. “When d’you start? Want a ride?”

And Draco was so grateful he didn’t launch yet another tirade about how Draco should quit that he said, “Why not.” (Only because he was distracted and rather tired, and not because sitting behind Harry Potter on his motorbike was in itself half-punishment, and not because clinging to his waist on tight turns at far-too-quick was—anything at all). On the downside, it made Harry Potter practically beam, and Draco still needed his eyes.

“Great! I mean. That’s good. That you won’t be late. Bad for your, er, record, and stuff, and you might not get a—bonus or something.”

They didn’t do bonuses at McMillan & McMillan, but that was neither here nor there. Draco nodded, pushed himself up on not so flimsy legs, collected his coat from where it was crumpled on the back of a chair.

“What about lunch?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t take. Any lunch.”

Why was he so obsessed with food? It was dangerously endearing. “I have an apple in my bag. Come now, you promised I won’t be late.”

“An—” Harry Potter shook his head, loosening even more curls out of his bun. They were rain-flat and miserable and still entirely too sweet. “I’ll buy you a sandwich at that poor excuse for a cafeteria you got there. And so help me god, Malfoy, you’ll eat it, or—”

“All right,” both hands up, “no need to shout. Your wish is my command, etcetera.”

He pouted so hard it was almost comical. But there was something still wounded there, so Draco added, “As long as there’s peppers, you know,” and then he was fuming again, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to deliver yet-another lecture. Draco watched him, amused, and forgot to lock the door behind him, and forgot his scarf.

Did remember his umbrella, which he Leviosa-ed to follow the Death Machine, stuck it against the silly jacket's back when they reached the office. It wasn’t raining anymore, thankfully allowing Draco to arrive not wet-dog for a change, and it made absolutely no difference.

Harry Potter took off his helmet to watch Draco enter the building. Didn’t follow him inside (wise, to prevent a murder), and so Draco completely forgot about the sandwich threat until it was roughly lunchtime. At which point, a drawer in his desk suddenly jumped open, and a far-too-fancy £12 bready tower appeared. On it a note that scrawled pepper-free, git.

Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Draco, distracted, chipped away at the sandwich all the same, and was only shouted at twice, and didn’t even spill coffee on his keyboard.

‘Not exactly overtime’ at the office meant staying after everyone else to take note of stock and arrange all the impossible paperwork. That Draco was given this task was already hilarious, and always a disaster: that his boss insisted on continuing to give it to him, possibly commendable. Maybe he thought Draco was being stubborn. Maybe he thought, nobody could really be this bad without actively trying. Well, he didn’t know Draco yet! There was always time to learn.

Stock was stocked. The backroom was stuffy and still smelling slightly of smoke (not Draco’s fault, probably), the sweet dusty smell of paperwork going to rot. It made his head spin, not unpleasantly, made him inhale a little brokenly and laugh to himself. The sandwich from all the way back lunch sat heavy in his belly, sweating. Everything was so incredibly laughable.

When he finally finished (after only forgetting three steps in the protocol), the sun had long set and the streetlights were humming. Not worrying, Draco thought, going back to the office (forgot his bag). Not worrying at all (back to the office, to check he locked the door). (Why would anyone give him the keys?) (Some disasters were just asking to happen).

On his way home he stopped by the corner shop for another pack of biscuits. Some disasters, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare in advance. Harry Potter would surge in soon enough with another grievance. Draco was giddy by nature, and so the shakiness was not necessarily to do with this.

To the crescent moon drowning in cloud he wondered, do I hate peppers?

Couldn’t remember to decide by the time he made it back.

[deityoftherain]

phases of the moon - Flower Husbands ATLA AU Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M, Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 5,388

Summary: Scott is the Tribal Prince of the Northern Water Tribe and he's not allowed to leave Agna Qel'a. Oh yeah, and his health is connected to the phases of the moon. Jimmy, on the other hand, is an ambassador, traveling back and forth between the Earth Kingdom and Scott's home. He wants nothing more than to settle down and cement his life by Scott's side. There's just one little thing he doesn't know yet...

This was written for Jelly, my artist, through @mcytblraufest!!