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box-architecture · 5 months ago
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@the-final-sif @hiding-in-the-vault btw
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"We are not naming him Obsidian." Dream growled. "What's wrong with you?"
"It makes sense!" Sam protested, although he looked rightfully cowed by the intense reaction. "Their scales are the same color."
It was true, annoyingly so. The Child purred happily in Dream's arms, the light of the sun warming its body and making its black scales have a purple tinge. They may have been the same species, but whatever quirk of genetics had made Dream's scales white, it had not been the same for whatever line of dragons the Child had spawned from.
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petewentzcloset · 11 months ago
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• No Name 1 of 1 - Guardian Angel 4.0 Hoodie
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copperrook · 1 year ago
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Vash the Stampede? More like Vash th- *gets shot*
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cheeses-degree · 2 years ago
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(Pictures by me, drawing found on Pinterest)
My house got fucking flooded and we have to move so my new study place is outside some cafe downtown. Not ideal because the weather is hell most of the day but the evenings are nice- it’d be nicer if my friends came out to eat dinner with me though 🙄
Anyways my September playlist slaps so hard. I turn 18 this month and I have a crush on one of my friends (I mention it because I Never get crushes and I’m thinking I want to approach this one differently but y’know it’s a whole thing lmao). I’m reading like three books (I need to update that part of my intro post lol) and my GSA may be fucked based on new legislation but we don’t know yet!!
(Drafted September 2nd, idk why I didn’t post probably shitty wifi. Anyways my GSA isn’t fucked by the state but we are fucked by the school so that sucks. Still exist just they keep Not putting our name anywhere to sign up for clubs)
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tsarcomics · 2 years ago
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Introducing the first in our Meet the Character series! Meet Omarion Andrasmenos, currently serving as military attaché to the wealthy but tumultuous plutocracy of Everspring. As a public figure he is reserved, eloquent and notoriously hard to ruffle, but this diplomatic construction serves another function: to hide the chronic restlessness of a man of action stuck in the trappings of an administrator. A basket-hilted schiavona serves as his official badge of office, but his true weapon of choice? The humble quarterstaff, uncommon for a man of his standing but unfailingly utilitarian.
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studioeisa · 9 months ago
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all of the while, it was you ꩜ hyunjin x reader.
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── .✦ 💌 reader uses she/her pronouns. includes: idol!hyunjin, café owner!reader, feelings realization, freeform, time skips, fluff, coffee shops & cafés, slice of life, skz ensemble.
── .✦ 🚏 i know the "i-had-no-idea-you-were-an-idol" trope is one of the oldest, most worn clichés in the book, but sometimes you have to release the corny fic into the world so it can stop haunting you 🙂↕️ the title is from landon pigg's falling in love at a coffee shop. originally posted on ao3, but then i orphaned it (lol) so here's its new home! ♡︎
── .✦ 📟 wc: 4,000+
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She doesn’t admit this to Hyunjin until much later on, but when he walked into her café the first time, she had thought— as one usually does— that this ethereal boy should be a star of some sorts. A model, an actor.
Where others might have spoken up, she chose to keep it to herself. (A good choice, too. If she had said anything, Hyunjin would have never returned.)
He is shy, at first. He sits at a table far from the door and spends most of his stay doodling in his notebook.
Outside, snow begins to fall.  
Hyunjin gets on his phone to call Jeongin over. She steps out from behind the counter and lingers by the window. 
Separately, they admire the sign of the times. Hyunjin thinks of romance that can be painted. Her mind goes to warm drinks that can be sold. Briefly, the two share a glance.
They exchange no words— not a single pleasantry about the weather— but Hyunjin does offer up the smallest of smiles, which she returns. 
He goes back to his phone. She retreats to the kitchen. 
Neither of them have any idea of what was ahead. 
That day, they witness the first snow of the year together. 
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Hyunjin becomes a regular. 
He’s never done that before. The most he’s been to an establishment is probably twice, thrice, before the place is overrun with fans and he has to find a new hiding spot. 
He doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. But there are some things he wants to keep to himself, and this café is one of them. He doesn’t realize how often he’s gone until, one evening, the barista at the counter says, “Your usual?” instead of waiting for him to speak.
“Yes, please,” he says. He slides over the exact payment and sits at the table he likes the most. 
Through trial and error, he figured that the café had little to no people nearing its closing time. And so he only ever stopped by in the evening, usually after practicing stages and before heading home. 
She serves him his drink, his ‘usual’, and Hyunjin blurts out something that’s not his average ‘thank you’ and ‘please’. 
“What’s your name?” he asks, because this is not the type of café where the barista has a name card on their apron. He flushes and goes on. “It’s just— I don’t think I ever got your name.” 
She laughs kindly and answers. It’s a pretty name, Hyunjin thinks to himself.
“And you?” she inquires politely. 
There’s a seed of suspicion in him, a flicker of doubt. Did she really not know him? He had been tricked before by people feigning ignorance.
But her expression is curious, and earnest, and he decides to give her the benefit of doubt. 
“Hyunjin.” 
“Hyunjin,” she repeats, as though testing the name out on her tongue. A fleeting thought passes his mind: My name sounds safe with her. 
She smiles. “It’s nice to finally know you, Hyunjin. Thanks for always coming to my café.” 
“This is yours?” he says, a little dumbstruck. He had assumed she was just an employee. 
“It is.” There’s a proud gleam in her eyes. “It’s always been my dream to own one, and here I am.”
“It’s one of my favorite places,” says Hyunjin. He’s not even exaggerating; he means it. He adores the floor-to-ceiling windows, the intricate woodwork, the potted plants in every corner.
Her smile brightens, widens. She thanks Hyunjin and is about to say more when the bell by the door chimes. “Oh, a customer. I’m sorry.” 
“It’s no problem. Go ahead.” 
She rushes over to the counter. Hyunjin sinks a bit into his seat, doing his best to avoid the newcomer’s gaze. 
That day, Hyunjin learns how a name can make a world’s difference. 
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One evening, Hyunjin asks her, “What kind of music do you like?”
She looks up from bookkeeping and tongues the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She names a handful of genres, none of which might fit the bill for Stray Kids. 
Over the past weeks, Hyunjin had gotten to know her. Her love for coffee and baked goods. Her impulsive decision to move to Korea. Her loneliness, dulled only by the steady flow of patrons visiting her shop.
There are still some weeks where he thinks it’s too good to be true. To be undiscovered this long, to meet someone who didn’t know a thing about his industry, to strike up a friendship that had nothing to lose but everything to gain.
She asks a question of her own. “Do you have any pets?”
Hyunjin brightens at the opportunity to talk about Kkami.
That day, he remembers what it’s like— to be curious, to be known.
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It occurs to Hyunjin, quite suddenly, that he won’t be seeing her for a while. 
The thought only comes as his plane is taking off.
He had seen her over the weekend. She sought his honest opinion on drinks she planned to add to her menu. 
At the time, he hadn’t thought of bringing it up. What would he say, anyway? I’m going on a worldwide tour.
Miserable, he fiddles with his phone until Changbin levels him a firm look. 
“There’s in-flight Wi-Fi,” he says. “Do you want me to get the password for you?”
“Yes, please.” 
Once connected to the internet, Hyunjin searches up the café’s socials and finds its number, which is effectively her number. His heart leaps out of his chest.
He stares at the blinking cursor in the KakaoTalk chat. He had never given out his socials to her out of fear she would realize who he was, what type of life he lived. Now, he was considering using his personal number to message her.
It feels like too much. Hyunjin places his phone face down onto his lap. He wasn’t going to text her. He shouldn’t. Right?
In the next two hours, he probably checks and puts down his phone a dozen times. Fed up, Changbin eventually groans, “Just do what you have to do already!”
Hyunjin, red-faced, picks up his phone. Changbin is right. He keys in a quick message to the café’s account and hits send before he can overthink it.
Hi, this is Hyunjin. I usually come on weekday nights. I might be gone for a while; I’m heading abroad for work. I’m just letting you know, so you don’t think I hate your coffee or anything. Stay healthy and don’t work too hard. 
He exhales in relief, only to be startled by a notification mere minutes later.
Hi, Hyunjin, she responds. You’re so funny, but also right. I would have been sad if I thought I lost my favorite customer. Stay safe, okay? Send me photos of nice cafés during your travels!
Another notification pops up. It’s weird to be messaging on the shop’s account. LOL. Here’s my personal number.  
Hyunjin can feel his heart hammering underneath his chest. He’s ecstatic to have her number, sure, and an excuse to message her while he’s away, but he’s mostly flustered by a small phrase in her text. ‘My favorite customer.’
It might be something she says to everyone; Hyunjin doesn’t care. He suppresses a wide smile from a Changbin eyeing him with open curiosity. 
That day, Hyunjin remembers what it feels like to have a crush.
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Hyunjin makes good on her offhanded request.
She receives numerous photos of coffee shops and bakeries across the world. Look at this catacomb concept, he says of a café in London. I thought the menu here was good, he notes with a picture from Hanoi.
I want whatever job you have, she texts back after he sends a video of a patisserie in New York. You’re always going to such cool places.
He doesn’t respond for a couple of hours. She worries, briefly, if she had said something wrong. She brushes it off as the timezone difference.
He texts as she’s trying to whip up a new batch of croissants. It’s nice, you’re right, but sometimes I wish I had a job where I could just stay in Korea, he replies. I’ve been to all these places and I think your coffee is still the best. 
She wipes the flour off her hands so she can shoot back, You’re just saying that so you can get free drink next time. 
He sends a GIF of a cartoon cat crying. I mean it, he texts. I miss you. 
She nearly drops her bowl of batter when she sees what he said. Thankfully, he follows up with, LOL, sorry, sent too soon. *I miss your lattes. 
Riiight, she types, then erases.
If you miss me, just say so, she types, then erases.
I miss you, too. 
She erases that and sends instead, LOL. I’ll be sure to perfect it by the time you come back. 
That day, she burns a batch of croissants as she tries to figure out how she feels.
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The answer reveals itself to her soon enough.
She’s just about to pack up shop when she hears the front door’s bell. She begins to instinctively apologize about being closed for the night when she sees who the guest is. 
Hyunjin, with two paper bags in his hands. 
“That’s too bad,” he says dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to give these away to someone else, then.”
She laughs; he grins. He places down the bags on a table and asks, “Think you could spare a few minutes for your favorite customer?”
“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “Give me a second.”
She flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’, turns off online deliveries on her phone, and leaves all but one light open.
“I’m only willing to stay overtime for you,” she laughingly tells a Hyunjin who is watching her do her closing routine. “I can make you a drink, though…”
“No need.” He waves her over. “I got you some stuff.”
“You didn’t have to,” she says as she tries to peek into the bags. “When did you get back?”
“Yesterday. I went straight to my parents, though, before coming here.”
“How was all the traveling?”
“Tiring, fun. I’m glad to be home.”
She offers him a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back, too,” she says. In the sparse light of the café, it’s hard to tell for sure, but she thinks she sees Hyunjin blush.
He shoves one of the bags forward. “Here are some decorations for the café. They’re nothing fancy, and it’s still up to you whether you want to put them up…”
Hyunjin trails off as she brings out one decoration after the other. She’s overwhelmed. They’re all gorgeous and fitting of her café’s aesthetic.
“Hyunjin,” she says, awed. “I can’t possibly take these.”
But Hyunjin is shaking his head and already gesturing towards the other bag. “This one has a bunch of coffee packets I got from different places. I thought you might like them.” 
The thoughtfulness of it draws a disbelieving laugh out of her. “That’s it. You’re getting free drinks for a month,” she says seriously.
Hyunjin laughs, too. “That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, it is very necessary. This—” She gestures at all of Hyunjin’s gifts. “Is a really nice thing for you to do. Thank you, Hyunjin. Really.”
The smile on his face makes her pulse race. 
“You’re welcome,” he says. “Anything for my favorite barista.” 
That day, she concedes: She may have romantic feelings for this particular customer. 
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It takes Hyunjin a few weeks after that to work up the courage to ask her out. 
When he found out her favorite Disney movie was putting out a sequel, he knew this was a golden opportunity. So, one evening, he asks if she’s free that weekend.
She says yes, because it’s her favorite film, but also— because it’s Hyunjin.
Neither of them refer to it as a date. It goes unspoken, is undeniable in its implication. They are two friends who are obviously attracted to each other. This was supposed to be the first time they meet outside her shop.
Hyunjin chooses a small movie theater and buys the tickets in advance. He texts her the details and she says she’ll be there.
Since immigrating, most of her time has just been going back and forth to her café and her apartment. She took cabs more often than not. She avoided tourist spots and malls, and only ever went out to do groceries or buy supplies.
So, that evening, when she decides to try taking the bus, it is her first time at the stop. She sends a text to Hyunjin saying she’s on her way, looks up from her phone, and sees him. 
Except it’s not him in the flesh. It’s him, on the bus stop’s LED screen. Nearly unrecognizable. 
The Hyunjin she knows wears dark hoodies and unbranded caps. The Hyunjin on the screen is dressed from head to toe in designer. She stares, slack-jawed, as text appears. ‘Hwang Hyunjin: Our Shining Star.’
A student sitting near her claps their hands. “Oh, are you a STAY, too? Is Hyunjin your bias?” they ask. 
She clears her throat. “Yes,” she lies, and the student nods excitedly.
“My bias is Felix,” the teenager raves. “I guess we’re both danceracha fans, ha-ha!”
The student boards the next bus that comes. It’s the same bus that’s supposed to pass by the mall where she has to go, but she stays rooted in her seat.
She finds herself doing inventory on what she knows about Hyunjin. He didn’t like talking about his job, only ever mentioning it in vague terms. It involved a lot of traveling. It was tiring, he said. But fun.
Her phone dings. Hyunjin’s message reads, Getting us popcorn. What flavor do you want? 
She looks at the text, then back up at the LED screen. Could it be a twin, maybe? No, she thinks. They had the same name. 
Instead of answering his question, she replies, Who are you?
Hyunjin responds with a sticker of a whale with several question marks over its head.
What’s a ‘STAY’? Who’s Felix? What’s a ‘danceracha’? Why do you have a poster at the bus stop?, she asks in a succession of texts.
She repeats, Who are you?
In the cinema lobby, Hyunjin feels his blood run cold. He can’t breathe, suddenly. In his excitement to invite her out, he hadn’t accounted for the dozens of birthday banners around the city.
He practically bolts out of the mall. He flags down a taxi that takes him back to his apartment, where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung are starting a new Netflix series.
“Hey, Hyune. I thought you’d be back—” Chan falters, then gets to his feet. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Hyunjin hadn’t realized there were tears streaming down his face until Jisung pauses their show and Changbin rushes to grab a box of tissues.
“I think I messed up,” Hyunjin says, his voice barely above a whisper.
She goes home that night and resists the urge to search him up. She wants to hear it from him, who he is, and why he had been so keen to hide it. 
Hyunjin, meanwhile, fights back sobs as he admits to his friends what had happened. How badly he had wanted to be normal, for once, and how it was now blowing up in his face.
When she falls asleep, she dreams of a darkened movie house— one bucket of popcorn, shy fingers dancing around each other’s touch.
Hyunjin tosses and turns in bed for hours. Her texts glare up at him, unanswered. Who are you, Hyunjin? 
That day, the weather forecast is dreary. The rainy season has come early.
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She hardly has time to think of Hyunjin.
The rain brings in more customers. Those seeking shelter from the downpour, those in need of a warm drink.
On Monday, two boys swoop in with ridiculously oversized umbrellas.
“Your blueberry cheesecake looks good,” the smaller of them says. “Can I have a slice and an iced coffee too, please?”
“An iced coffee in this rain?” The taller sniffles dejectedly. “Jisung-ah, that’s impractical.”
Jisung glances at her for support.
“I think iced coffee can be enjoyed in any weather,” she offers. 
Jisung looks pleased. “See, Minho-hyung?”
Minho rolls his eyes but smiles slightly. “I think I’ll stick to my hot coffee. One espresso, please,” he says, and she punches in their orders.
The one named Jisung shoots several looks at her throughout their stay. Minho is mostly indifferent. (Or, rather, more discreet in stealing glances.) They leave a tip in her jar on the way out, and talk about her on the way home.
On Tuesday, a boy wearing a baseball jersey comes up to the counter.  
“Do you make all these yourself?” he asks while looking at the menu.
“I do,” she says. “I came up with most of the recipes, too.”
His eyes shine. “Can I have an iced Americano with syrup for takeout? And—” He pauses, as though deciding on whether he should continue. “Do you mind if I watch you make it?” 
She grins. She enjoyed customers like this. She invites the boy across the counter and walks him through the machinery, the procedure, the ingredients.
“Thank you so much,” he says once it’s all done, when he has his to-go cup in his hand. 
“It’s no problem. If you ever want to learn more about making coffee, my door’s always open.”
He smiles. “Thanks.” Another thoughtful pause. “I’m Seungmin, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Seungmin,” she says as she gives her own name. 
On Wednesday, three boys come in at noon.
They all don name tags over their chests.
“Binnie,” she reads out loud. The three boys balk, as though surprised. She smiles sheepishly at their reaction and points at the tags. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shock you.”
The one with the tag that says ‘Chan’ flashes her a lopsided grin. “We came from an event. Must’ve forgotten to take these off.” 
“No problem. What can I get you guys?”
‘Lix’ scans the display of pastries and asks, “How much for everything?”
She raises her eyebrows. “Pardon me?”
“We’re going to be feeding a lot of people,” Binnie explains. “Will it be an inconvenience if we take all of your food?”
“No, not at all,” she says quickly. “But it should cost around…” She does the numbers, lets them know.
Chan nods. “That’s alright. We’ll have it all for takeout, please.” 
Bewildered, she begins to pack all the food into containers and paper bags. This had never happened to her. She would have to close shop early.
“Please choose three drinks,” she tells them. “I’ll throw them in for free.”
They look surprised. “You don’t have to,” Lix says sheepishly.
“You guys bought out my stock for the day,” she says. “I’m very grateful, and I’d love to make you a drink in exchange.”
After more of her insistence, the three reluctantly pick out their beverages. She sends them off with bags full of pastries, and large coffees for each. 
On Thursday, a familiar boy chats with her about the rain.
As she’s making his order, she tries to place where she saw him. She serves him his coffee and tentatively asks, “Are you Jeongin?”
He draws back a bit and cautiously replies in the affirmative. 
“You came here once,” she’s quick to explain. “It was snowing.”
Jeongin nods. “Right. I’m surprised you remember.”
“You were with Hy—” She falters. “Your friend.” 
He looks almost amused. “Hyunjin,” he finishes, and she nods.
“Hyunjin,” she repeats through the lump in her throat. “Well, excuse me.”
“Sure.”
She ducks back over to the counter and opens her KakaoTalk. Still nothing. She considers messaging him, but decides against it. She wants answers. If Hyunjin can’t give her any, then how can their relationship progress any further?
That day, Jeongin makes a beeline for Hyunjin’s apartment.
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The rain is so bad that barely any customers come.
She contemplates closing early when the bell rings, and in comes Hyunjin.
Despite his umbrella, he is drenched from head to toe. He tracks mud into her café and drips rainwater onto her floor. She stares, mouth agape, at the audacity of this man to show up after a weeks’ worth of radio silence. 
She’s about to tell him off when he blurts out, “I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”
“I’m part of a group called Stray Kids. Our fans are called ‘STAY’,” he says. “Felix is my friend, and ‘danceracha’ is the subunit we’re part of. I love dancing. It’s what gives me life.”
He goes on, “I paint. I’m trying to get into photography, too. I like cold coffee, romance films, and you.”
She starts at the sudden confession. “What?”
“I really, really like you,” he says breathlessly. “I want to keep coming to this café. I want to watch a movie with you. But— if we’re going to do that— you need to know who I am.”
“You’re a dancer,” she repeats awkwardly.
“Yes. I sing and rap, too.”
She feels dizzy. “And you like me?”
He’s suddenly nervous, can’t meet her eyes. “Yes,” he says, his voice barely audible over the downpour beyond them. “I do.”
The rain falls heavily on the roof, and it is the only sound for a few precarious moments, as the two people in the café hang in delicate balance.
She makes a choice, then and there.
“Let me get you a towel,” she says. “And what coffee do you want? Your usual?”
He smiles so wide that the storm outside becomes nearly irrelevant. “Yes, please.”
That day, they sit at his favorite table and make plans.
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When she finally, properly meets all of the boys, she reels backwards in abject shock.
Hyunjin places a hand on the small of her back to steady her. The seven boys laugh at her reaction, though not unkindly.
“For the record, we hadn’t planned it,” Jeongin says. He passes her a drink.
Felix— whose tag had said ‘Lix’, then— helps take her coat. “I really liked your scones! Maybe one day we could bake together,” he says cheerfully. 
“Yes, of course,” she stutters. 
“Hey, Felix.” Hyunjin wags a finger in his friend’s face. It’s not threatening at all. “That’s my girlfriend!” 
“I just wanted scones,” Felix says defensively, and more good-natured laughter ripples through the room. 
The attention shifts away from the new couple as the boys begin to lay out food onto the table for Changbin’s birthday celebration. 
Jisung notices her dumbstruck expression and gives her a reassuring smile. “Are you surprised?” he asks.
“A little.” She grins back at Jisung. “You’re the one who likes cheesecake.” 
He laughs at the comment. “And your cheesecake is one of the best! I’m glad you brought it today.” 
Hyunjin interrupts their conversation to steer her towards the kitchen. 
He juts his lower lip out in a pout. “I don’t think bringing you here was a good idea,” he says, half-serious. “I’m worried they’re all madly in love with you.” 
The absurdity of it makes her giggle. “You’re insane.” She stands on her tiptoes and presses a cheek on to her boyfriend’s cheek. “I love you, though.” 
“Damn right,” Hyunjin says. He tries to steal another kiss but she laughs, ducks away. 
“We have to go back to your friends,” she says pointedly as Hyunjin wraps his arms around her waist. 
“Five more minutes,” he whines, and she can’t help herself. She smiles.
“Five more minutes.” 
That day, they are happy. They are known. And it is more than enough.
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idolkilling · 5 years ago
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Dinner Date 💕
I started this comic back in 2018 and finally finished this April 😭  Pleased w/ how it came out, but more than that, glad I learned so much from doing it :’)  Originally posted on twitter.
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lelelego · 1 year ago
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featuring the weirdest employee-boss relationship you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing!!
commission for @iamnotaworm!
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saturnidsart · 1 year ago
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king-there0f · 7 months ago
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Makin skeets on the bluski
Not making separate accounts for the ygo/anime and gw2/dnd stuff right now so only follow if you dont mind both!
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box-architecture · 7 months ago
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cDream and cSam meeting as kids<3
Sam's book is labeled in crayon: Sam's Stuff. its where he keeps all this cool building ideas.
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petewentzcloset · 11 months ago
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pw finding his holy grail 💘
• Metallica - Cap’ns of Krunch Krew vintage t-shirt
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copperrook · 1 year ago
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Look, the prompt was "Tumblr Sexyman" and I can't draw Reigen
Shoutout to my teenage self who was absolutely obsessed with this guy back in the day, your tastes will never change dude <3
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beetlebards · 2 years ago
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strawberry picking 💫🍓
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pc-9800 · 5 months ago
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Back in October I compulsively picked up R.E.D. Starscream after watching TFO, and quickly regretted due to how mid it looked. I decided to use it as a handpainting test, and I think it turned out really well.
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Now I just need to get his shoulderpads and crown done, but the material they're made out of really does not want to accept paint.
Unpainted pics for reference below the cut:
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toanw · 8 months ago
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THERE'S SO MANY OF THESE PRECURE FELLOWS How do you do it...? They should hire you I think
I do it with the power of debilitating hyperfocus RRRRAGHHH unfortunately if they hire me they will get 50 designs in one week and then they will not hear from me for 6 months. stamina is my dump stat
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