#baking is so cool!!!

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

If you need an excuse to write for G-Way I can ALWAYS use some kind of snuggly G-Way fic.

Like ...maybe Christmas shopping? Something fun and seasonal...baking cookies??? Snow...something? (I dunno...it's 50° F right now so like ...snow is pretty far off from the south in my neck of the USA)

Anywho...do whatcha want friend, and feel better! :)

💖💖💖🪦

A Hazy Shade of Winter (Gerard Way x reader) 

Summary: (y/n)’s never really been the type of person to do Christmassy things before - they don’t hate it, their family was just never that bothered! But Gerard loves all things Christmas, and he decides to show them just how much fun this time of year can be. 

Words: 2696 

Warnings: none it’s just adorable 

AN: it was snowing while I was writing this!!! I haven’t seen proper snow in years!!! 

“I can still feel you staring at me. Aren’t you bored yet?” 

“I just can’t believe you’ve never made a gingerbread house before!” 

(y/n) rolled their eyes with a laugh, glancing back over their shoulder. Gerard was still sitting at the little dining table, so distracted by that monumental bombshell that he’d stopped swinging back and forth on the chair. Had anyone else seen him, they would probably have assumed that he’d just been told the world was going to end. He looked genuinely devastated, baffled at the idea that something he’d loved so much as a kid hadn’t been a part of his partner’s life too. 

Drying the last mug, they tossed the tea towel aside and moved to sit opposite him. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal. My family just wasn’t ever that bothered about Christmas, that’s all.” 

“But it’s so much fun!” He couldn’t help but frown - so many of his fondest memories had come from enjoying the Christmas season with his family. Sure, there were some parts he hadn’t enjoyed; church services were always far too long and dull for his liking. But there were so many things that would never fail to make him smile. Begging to be the one to carry the Christmas tree home, even though there was no way in hell he was capable of carrying it all that way and hated asking for help. Hiding all his vegetables in very elaborate ways so he’d have tons of room for all the wonderful sweet things on offer. Saving tiny scraps of funky wrapping paper to fill in the gaps of the collage of random crap that covered the walls of his basement room. 

The one memory that stood out among all of those was the gingerbread house. Every year, his family had turned the kitchen into an absolute bombsite, trying to outdo themselves and what they’d designed in years past. They actually had a photo album somewhere, thick with pictures of every possible angle of each year’s creation. Every detail had to be perfect: the boiled sweet windows, the piped design for the roof, the little people posed to go about their daily activities. It had started out as a replica of their family, but had soon descended into utter madness. One year, there had been gingerbread aliens and a questionable rendition of Batman and Robin, soon joined by some even worse looking gingerbread zombies. Usually these little additions were Gerard or Mikey’s idea - and their mom was rarely impressed by the way they spoiled her nice tidy handiwork - but it really did make the whole thing something special. Entirely unique to their family. 

“And every time you’ve spoken about it, it’s sounded like a great time! And the photos your mom has are incredible.” They smiled, seeing his face brighten up a little. “It’s just... never how my family did things, that’s all. Usually at least one of my parents was working on the day so we never did much through the rest of December. Christmas always felt... I don’t know, a bit anticlimactic? I don’t think the seasonal depression helped either.” 

They’d only been together for four months, and there was still so much they had to learn about each other. Clearly, they’d had very different experiences growing up - neither had been bad, just different. And the wonderful thing about that was that it meant they could teach each other all the little things that they had done as kids! There were so many traditions that they could share and combine now, creating new ones that were entirely their own. 

Gerard got to his feet, taking (y/n) by the hand and pulling them to stand by the counter. “Let’s make a gingerbread house together.” 

“But I don’t know how.” 

“That doesn’t matter. I can teach you, and if things go wrong then we’ll just make it up as we go along anyway. That’s half the fun.” 

He looked so hopeful, eyes sparkling with childish glee, and there was simply no way they could say no to him. “Okay. But you can’t blame me if we end up setting your kitchen on fire.” 

“Hey, joint effort, joint blame. Now, I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything we need in here somewhere...” 

It took just about fifteen minutes for him to search through the cupboards, but in the end he’d managed to find everything the two of them would need to make the gingerbread. While he’d been looking, (y/n) had dug through his cupboards for a mixing bowl and baking sheets, excited by the thought of baking together again. They’d tried to make cupcakes a couple of weeks prior, but they had come out slightly burnt because they’d been distracted scraping the remaining batter out of the bowl. It had been tons of fun, and they just knew that this would be the same. 

Gerard took the lead, directing his partner to weigh out the right amount of each ingredient while he melted the butter, sugar and syrup together. They were following instructions from a slightly stained handwritten recipe, a sheet written up by his mother that was a little sticky in places - clearly, it was one that got brought out and used on a regular basis. 

When it came to kneading the dough, they ended up having to split the mixture in half so they could both get involved; then it became a competition, both trying to create the most phallic shapes they could. That’s what happens when you let two people with the emotional maturity of twelve year olds into a kitchen - food fights and inappropriate jokes. 

They let the dough rest for a little while, killing time by leaving floury handprints on each other’s butts and working their way through a bag of chocolate chips that had been hiding in the back of one of the cupboards. When it came to rolling the dough out, they were a little more well behaved - at first. After creating enough rectangular sheets for the walls and roof, along with two little people to represent themselves and some extra details to add, like window frames and doors, all of the leftover dough was used for normal gingerbread cookies. Well, if you can call gingerbread dicks and disproportionate hands flipping the middle finger ‘normal’. After a moment of thinking they added Gerard’s bandmates to the mix too, throwing in some cookies shaped like Frank’s dogs for good measure. 

While the dough was in the fridge, they cleaned up all the mess they’d made so far - before creating even more when (y/n) knocked over the bag of sugar. Well, it wasn’t entirely their fault. The only reason their elbow had ended up hitting it in the first place was because Gerard had taken them by surprise, pinning them against the counter and kissing them so hard it felt like they would never breathe properly again. 

The beep of the timer stopped their little make out session from going any further and they worked to fit all the trays of gingerbread in the oven at once, both a little red and flustered. As they brought the last tray over, (y/n) stopped dead, staring out the window in wonder. 

“When did it snow?”

There was probably a foot of snow on the ground; it seemed like it had appeared out of nowhere! Like it had just flopped out of the sky in one big sheet and landed with a soft thump in a pillowy layer or pure white. Neither of them had noticed it start to fall (probably because they’d been so busy with their tongues down each other’s throats) and the dim afternoon seemed so much brighter now that it had something to reflect off. 

The gingerbread only needed ten minutes in the oven, and when it was finished Gerard cleared some space on the counter and set the trays out to cool. Both of them grinned as the smell of sweet gingerbread filled the kitchen, before hissing in pain - at exactly the same time, they had reached for one of the spare cookies and burnt their fingertips. That made the pair of them crack up laughing at their own idiocy, lamenting the fact that they would have to wait for everything to cool down before they could try their creation. So they finished the last of the cleaning instead, bouncing ideas for decorations back and forth. 

“What about a little woolly sweater on the dog?” 

“We should put ‘elf’ on Frank’s jumper because he’s so tiny.” 

“Hey, let’s ice a string of lights around all the windows!”

“I’ll call my mom and ask her how to make the snow out of marshmallow, she always does that and it’s insanely cool.” 

By now the real snow outside was falling thick and fast again, blanketing the ground outside with at least two feet of soft white flakes. Gerard couldn’t help but smile at the look of sheer awe on his partner’s face as they stared out of the window, fingers resting lightly against the glass. 

“It’s pretty, huh? Not quite as pretty as you, though.” 

They didn’t really register the second thing he said, lost in the glorious swirling eddies outside. “I... I’ve never seen snow like this before.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Where I’m from, all we ever got was a crappy layer of slush, or black ice deadly enough to break your neck. I don’t think we ever had more than an inch of actual snow at any one time.” 

Resting a hand on the small of their back, he nuzzled against the side of their head. “Wanna go out and play for a little while?” 

“I thought we were gonna start decorating?” 

“Oh, we can’t do that for a good few hours, at least. The gingerbread needs a while to cool. And, if we’re using my mom’s tricks - which we definitely are, by the way, she is the undisputed queen of gingerbread - then we should leave it overnight. She always says its better when it’s had time to rest properly.” 

“Ah.” (y/n) was quiet for a moment, and he started to think that maybe something he’d done had touched a nerve. Maybe he’d upset them somehow. Maybe something he’d said at some point had made their thoughts wander somewhere a little unpleasant. But then they turned to look at him, a quiet sort of hope flickering in their eyes. “Can we... can we make snow angels?” 

“Hey, of course we can! They might not be there by the morning though, with the way that snow’s falling it wouldn’t surprise me if we woke up to a couple more feet.” 

“That’s fine. I’ve just never done it before.” 

“Oh, so we are absolutely doing it today then. Come on.” 

Within five minutes, the pair of them had their shoes on and were zipping up each other’s coats, sifting through the drawers of random crap in the hall cupboard to find enough hats, scarves and gloves to keep them both nice and cosy. The second they were all bundled up, Gerard took (y/n) by the hand and practically dragged them into his backyard. The snow came up to their knees, soaking through their jeans - the cold was uncomfortable, but it soon became easy to ignore. The very first thing the two of them did was lay backwards, (y/n) squeaking as snow slipped into the hood of their coat. Once they were laid flat, Gerard explained just how snow angels worked, giggling a little as his coat swished against the snowy ground with every movement. They got the hang of it soon enough, feeling a bit uncoordinated at first but very much enjoying it anyway. 

When he was satisfied with the mark he’d left, Gerard struggled back to his feet and hauled his lover upwards, kissing them deeply. “Hey, look what we did!” 

They glanced down, smiling at the sight before them. The two snow angels were slightly wonky - like the people who’d created them - and close enough to be almost holding hands. They were ever so slightly marred by footprints, but beautiful nonetheless. 

(y/n) beamed, cheeks feeling red raw from the cold wind. “Aw, they’re so cute! They look just like the ones you see in cartoons.” 

“I know, right? Now, you feeling up to a little snow friend as well? Or are you getting too cold?” 

“Snow friend, definitely.” 

By the time they had managed to roll two decent sized balls - one for a body and one for a head - their noses were bright red and neither of them could really feel their fingers any more. But they just weren’t ready to go back inside yet; they were having far too much fun! Who cares about a little frostbite when you’re having the time of your life with the person you love? 

Finding things to decorate their snow friend with was a little more challenging - by now, the snow was thick enough that they weren’t going to find anything on the ground to use. So they had to get creative. The standard carrot for the nose was pretty easy to find in the kitchen - and along with it came two frozen brussels sprouts for the eyes. Deciding that it was doing very little against the cold anyway, (y/n) donated their scarf to their new little buddy. Gerard liked that idea and gave up his hat, a dusting of snow settling across his hair as he tried to fit it onto the head. The two of them were a bit stuck for ideas on what to use for the arms, eventually deciding on a pair of spare drumsticks that they found in his office - why Gerard had drumsticks, neither of them really knew. They'd just sort of appeared there.

Standing in front of their slightly lopsided creation, Gerard wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and grinned. "Well they're a little crooked, but very sweet. Any ideas on a name?"

They thought for a moment, shivering now they had stopped moving around so much. "They kinda look like a Norman to me."

"Norman, huh? Yeah, I think that fits." The twilight above them was quickly darkening, and both of them were definitely feeling the cold. "Wanna head in now?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I haven't been able to feel my toes for the last twenty minutes."

When they got back inside, the smell of gingerbread seemed even stronger than it had done earlier, and the two of them felt instantly warmer - even though their fingertips were a slightly questionable shade of purple. They left their damp gloves and coats hanging up to dry by the door, giggling all the way up the stairs as they peeled off their icy wet clothes and searched through Gerard's drawers to find something for (y/n) to wear. It was getting to the point in their relationship now where they were staying over at his house with some regularity, and he was considering asking if they'd like to have a drawer to keep some stuff in. They already had a toothbrush in his bathroom. That was just the next natural step.

Once they were both in warmer, drier clothes, they went back down to the kitchen, still cold to the bone but slowly warming up. Gerard made hot chocolate for each of them, piling each mug with such a large amount of whipped cream and marshmallows that it was practically impossible to drink without making a complete mess of things.

As they snuggled up on the couch, huddling under the blankets and letting the mugs warm their hands, Gerard pressed a kiss to the side of (y/n)'s head. "So, did I successfully get you to enjoy some Christmassy things today?"

"Yeah, you did." They smiled softly, nuzzling against him. "I can enjoy anything when I'm with you."

"You might not say that tomorrow when I start icing those gingerbread men to look like storm troopers instead of us."

"I bet I can ice better looking ones than you can."

"Oh, you've just started a gingerbread war."

"Yeah, and I'll win."

"I'd like to see you try."

[archivebottles]

Happy birthday to the most special girl in the universe!! Wanted to try something ambitious and ended up with the biggest comic I've done to date

[cozylittleartblog]

gooseworx in the glitchx livestream: i want to see people draw jax in a suit. people should draw him crying

me: sure thing, boss o7

[ruthytwoshakes]

Pinkie pie posting?! More likely than you think !! She’s such a skater I love her so much <333 @punkitt-is-here made this lovely design of her! (I gave her some armpit hair because uhhhhh)

[bartholomew-junior]

wooooo revived!clover! i have so many thoughts abt this au and they cannot all fit here so take some doodles

@brewingcoffi

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 14

PREVIOUS

When Andrew came out of his bedroom to grab a second Allen wrench (he’s working on the frame of the dresser while Neil builds the drawers) he finds quite a few things to irritate him.

1st was the sound of his brother and his cousin arguing loudly. Andrew had been pretty clear that they needed to be quiet that morning but following Andrew’s clearly given guidelines was NEVER either of their strong suits.

2nd was the fact that there was a smell in the air that Andrew was unsure of. It wasn’t a bad smell. It didn’t smell like Nicky had left some component of the breakfast FF had bought to burn. Andrew sniffed the air again and…..lavender? It wasn’t really a smell that existed in the house of three college student boys.

3rd and most irritating was the fact that FF was not where Andrew had left him four hours ago on the couch. Again, Andrew had been pretty clear to both Nicky and Aaron that FF was to be left ALONE. FF hadn’t been able to go to sleep until Andrew had promised that nothing would happen to him while he slept.

He moves towards the kitchen table where Nicky and Aaron are eating some of the sour patch kids that FF had brought back as they argued, “He can’t be serious that Kate and I gross him out more than Andrew and Neil! I’ve seen how fast he walks away when they start getting gross.” He hears Aaron say.

“Aaron I have watched Smithy climb out a second story window because you and Katelyn started making out and he’d have to walk closer to you to go out the door.” Nicky returns. “I think you made him mad when you implied he was grossed out by Andrew and Neil. This is why I get spoon privileges and maybe, if Smithy is feeling forgiving, you can swipe your finger around the bowl.” he points at Aaron.

Andrew hangs back just out of sight.

He knows that FF does not like to be subjected to seeing PDA. A part of him feels…better at the confirmation that it really isn’t because him and Neil are both men. FF has seen them hold hands, kiss chastely, and lean on one another and been unbothered by that it was only when it started getting a little heated that  they’d realize that FF had left. FF never makes a scene about it, never scoffs in disgust or squeals in delight he just seems to see where it’s going and will leave if he doesn’t want to see it.

It’s nice.

“Well he’s probably mad at you for waking him up. Andrew said to leave him alone.” Aaron returns.

“He needs breakfast! He also has to take his ulcer meds at the same time so he had to wake up and eat something. He can go back to sleep after!” Nicky defends.

Andrew scowls. Ok. Nicky could live if that was the reason he woke FF up. Still, why the hell is FF in the kitchen and more importantly what bowl and spoon are Aaron and Nicky arguing over?

Andrew tunes his family’s argument out and heads to the kitchen to find FF putting a baking dish into their oven while incense burned on the counter (Andrew now realizes that was the thin box that had been in with the rest of the candy)

He sees the bowl and spoon that Nicky had mentioned and more importantly he can see the chocolate brownie batter on them. Andrew walks over to the bowl and picks it up. He wipes his finger along the inside and…

He closes his eyes for a moment to savor the flavor of the batter. He leans against the counter and his hand brushes against….a five hour energy bottle. Andrew knows he had thrown out the two he had found in FF’s bags before (Ulcer + exhaustion + FF = bad he didn’t need to be a math major like Neil to understand that math.)

Andrew shoves the bottle in his sweatshirt pocket as FF turns around and stares at him passively. FF’s eyebrow’s raise slightly but there’s no other reaction. Andrew considers that, perhaps, FF had wanted to lick the bowl.

He offers the spoon instead knowing it is the better prize but FF is the one who bought the ingredients and mixed together this amazing batter, so he gets first dibs.

“That wouldn’t be good for my stomach.” He declines and Andrew wonders if FF had taken his meds yet or, in his tired state, he’s forgotten to.

“When did you wake up?” Andrew asks.

“Hour ago.”

He should go back to sleep after he takes his meds but also knows that FF probably won’t go to sleep until the brownies are done.

“I’ll make the pie tomorrow.” FF says and Andrew blinks out of his thoughts.

Andrew decides to go get FF’s meds for him. He’ll make it clear to FF later that the guy doesn’t HAVE to keep making amazing desserts as a thanks for being invited to Columbia. If FF just so happens to WANT to keep making amazing desserts then Andrew isn’t going to be the person that stops him.

He shoves the spoon in his mouth and heads out to go find Smith’s bag and his meds.

Aaron and Nicky see him and both let out outraged noises as their quarry had been stolen.

Andrew ignores them and gets to the bag by the couch.

Who the fuck just has 14 bottles of five hour energy sitting in their bag??

***

When Andrew handed FF his ulcer meds he could admit to feeling grateful even if Andrew had obviously gone through his bag to grab it. He swallows it dry because Andrew is standing by the sink and he knows that until Andrew eats a brownie he is not in a position to ask for favors big or small.

(He learned his lesson from that one time with Captain Neil. If he wants to do anything related to Russian he has to be in the safety of his lofted bed under the cover of night and the cover of his…covers while he reads via flashlight. He will not be caught so flat footed again! These are all necessary precautions!)

Andrew seems to very much want for FF to be in prime condition for the hunt. Part of him wonders if he’ll be released amongst other game animals and FF had never felt more jealous of the turkey who got pardoned by the president the day before. Why does that stupid bird get all the luck? Where’s his presidential pardon?

That grateful feeling evaporates into a dust cloud as Andrew lifts a plastic bag, “Stop drinking these.” Andrew hisses, “They’re going to make your ulcer worse.” He points at FF.

“I need them.” He says.

“For what?”

“Five hours of energy at a time.”

“Pull out the brownies and go back to sleep Smith.”

“They still have 10 minutes.”

“Then I’ll pull them out in 10 minutes.”

“There’s a final step that I have to do once they’re fresh out of the oven.”

“What is it.”

“Smith Family Baking secret. I don’t make the rules.” FF gestures towards where the incense continues to burn, “Great Gran’s recipe and methods cannot be shared with non-blood relatives. My mom wasn’t even let in on the secret.”

Thank god

Andrew glowers at him.

Oh God

“It’ll be just 20 more minutes.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow at him.

“They’ll be worth it.” He pleads.

Andrew rolls his eyes.

“Go to sleep when they’re done. Take Nicky’s room.” Andrew commands.

“Take Nicky’s what?” Nicky leans into the kitchen.

“Smith is going to go back to sleep on your bed.”

“Yeah you look like shit Smithy. Don’t worry, unlike Neil and Andrew’s bed mine is all safe.”

Nicky zips out of the kitchen with Andrew hot on his heels. Nicky really is a good friend.

He performs the sacred rites necessary upon the brownies when they come out of the oven and takes a small corner piece to taste test and -

He closes his eyes and clasps his hands together in prayer.

‘Thank you Great Gran.’ He prays earnestly.

‘Remember to wash behind your ears’ he thinks he hears a whisper of grandmotherly advice in return.

That was probably normal.

He extinguishes the incense.

He cuts up the brownies, finds a decently sized plate, and sets the brownies out on the counter before he starts to work on doing the dishes. Yeah Yeah he could have been cleaning while he waited for the brownies to cook! That’s what you always do right? Clean as you go?

Well have you ever been baking brownies that might be the difference between life and death? No? Well then FF is just going to have to stop you right there because he had the oven light on and his eyes GLUED to these fudgey squares.

Who knows what the cousins’ oven would do? He doesn’t know this oven. He and this oven are taking their first whirl together and it could decide to turn on him at any time. They don’t have the brotherhood that he and the oven at his Gran’s house have built over the years! This oven could be one of those ones that maintain their temperature by turning on the broiler! He felt like he could never again recklessly trust an oven after he tried to make crescent rolls in the Viking Oven at his step father’s house and had gotten them back blackened by the broiler.

That oven had been the SINGLE thing he had been excited about during the kitchen remodel which means naturally it was the thing that had betrayed him.

He lets himself think of all the ways he hates the Viking brand as he finishes the dishes and puts everything back to where they belong.

He walks out of the kitchen with the platter of brownies and sets them down on the table where Aaron and Nicky are sat. “Oh my god they smell amazing.” Nicky says and immediately his hand is shooting towards the plate and picking up a corner piece.

FF valiantly resists the urge to slap his and Aaron’s hands away. He needs these to compel Andrew into letting him live.

“Oh wow, those do smell good.” He hears Captain Neil’s voice and when FF turns around Captain Neil and Andrew are both there. It is only in that moment that he realizes that he should have bought some vanilla ice cream to go with these.

Andrew’s love of ice cream was not unknown, probably even infamous. He was the man who, during the summer training, had been so possessive over the soft serve machine in the cafeteria that anyone who wanted any had to ask Captain Neil to get them a bowl or risk being threatened.

He starts towards the door. At this point Target probably isn’t even that bad, probably just some irate people who didn’t come with the rush and are mad they missed out, maybe some officers talking to witnesses on who threw cast the first Wii remote, and workers who will hate him marginally less (unless he gets the same check out person and they remember him (unlikely))

His progress is arrested by a hand grabbing his hoodie.

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot Ice Cream.” And he could get a five hour energy to slam on the way back home.

He then finds himself being pulled down an unfamiliar hallway.

Ah, the anticipation had been killing him more than the fear of his demise. His brownies had not contained the requisite amount of grandmotherly love to save him he had been relying on extract (Great Gran’s spirit guiding his hands) instead of organic (he does not have grandchildren or children for that matter)

Maybe ice cream would have been the deciding factor? He’ll never know.

He closes his eyes and lets himself be dragged. He’s too tired to fight.

A door opens, and he finds himself sat on a bed.

Weird.

“You are falling asleep standing up. Go back to sleep. I’ll leave you at Eden’s if you fall asleep in the booth.” Andrew threatens.

What.

FF knows about Eden’s.

He has heard about it from Nicky trying to get him to agree to go but he’s pretty sure it’d be like introducing an Amazon rainforest frog to the Sahara desert in terms of survivability for him.

“We’re going to Eden’s tonight?” He manages to ask.

Andrew raises an eyebrow at him but answers, “Yes.”

“I’m not really interested in clubs. I don’t drink out in public or dance.”

“Neither does Neil. I just drink. We can stay in the booth.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your time with Captain Neil.”

“It’s fine, neither of us hate spending time with you.”

“I don’t have clothes for a place like that.”

“Nicky grabbed some for you. You’re coming tonight. Go to sleep.”

With that Andrew pulls Nicky’s curtains close, shuts off the light, and closes the door.

FF, always very much like a bird when placed into a suddenly dark environment, starts to feel some of the  exceptional sleepiness that he’d been pushing off through sheer manic desperation to earn another day of life.

He lays down in Nicky’s bed and is tired enough that he can ignore the sheer amount of body glitter on the sheets (does Nicky excrete it like sweat??) and starts to let himself drift off to sleep.

Eden’s might be something completely out of his wheelhouse but-

A conversation with Nicky from when he’d been trying to get FF to go comes into his mind and he sits straight up in bed as Nicky’s words roll around in his head like stale hotdogs at a gas station.

“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.”

Eden’s is a Secondary Location with a BASEMENT.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

Per your requests:

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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you  didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[moonilit]

Thinking about these two beautiful strong ladies becoming best friends 💙🤎

*psst* chapter 19

[puppyeared]

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

[shysimblr]

Glaze Brooks-Jones

[a-river-of-stars]

When writing professionally, every writer should have at least one competent editor who isn't afraid to give honest critical feedback and talk them out of the truly mind-blowingly bad ideas they've mistakenly convinced themselves are "brilliant plot twists."

[stopwatchclockwatch]

I have disappeared for a good minute and i bring back half-baked sketches!

[cultof-aphrodite]

I made another pie because I had so many leftover strawberries 🍓♥️

[ralofofriverwoods]

God i fucking love garlic

[z-tomaz]

anyway congrats to tasha, the love of my life, she hasn't won yet but she's well and truly won my heart

[yandere-daydreams]

i literally love how asks always end up vaguely circling around “what if scara was crying in the corner for some reason” topic.

like a bit over a year ago it was ‘dottore gives scara a proportional dong that turned out to be 1.5 inches long’, and then he was a sex doll, and then a cat dealing with dog!childe, and now he’s a sex doll again with the iq of a roomba. i adore this progression so much <33

i can't help it that he's such a naturally pathetic man. hoyo has done everything possible in every on-screen appearance he's given to have him do something cool, immediately undercut it with someone going 'damn that guy's a fucking loser', then having him get his ass absolutely wrecked by whoever's available. sometimes he even kicks his own ass. it is my humble honor to make sure i portray him both accurately to canon and faithfully to my own heart's desires, and therefore he will be crying in your closet because he's jealous that you got a new refrigerator until further notice.

[orcelito]

Super sexy me is so sexy I accidentally set off the fire alarm while baking pie shells for my pumpkin pie. And now I don't know if I should've even baked them in the first place. But well. Too late now 👍