#but because it immediately draws the eye right to under the end of the post

[maskyartist]

anyone else have this weird reply highlight shit n hate it? Cause I do.

[chisatowo]

Slight Flutter dust redesign!

Bonus forbidden Flutter dust eyes

[ceesimz]

Best of Both Worlds

Yes, the title is a Hannah Montana song, it fits perfectly. Also, for the sake of fiction, Leah did in fact play at Wembley, thank you!

Possibly the most long-awaited day of Leah's life; her national team return. It was one thing to play for The Arsenal again, but to represent her country whilst wearing the captain's armband at Wembley was an experience that simply couldn't be matched. And that's why it meant everything and more to her that you were in the stands with her family and her name on your back.

It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing match ever, a 1-1 draw against Sweden, but Leah was back in her rightful place under her rightful role, and that was a win in itself. With each step on the pitch, your heart swelled with pride, knowing the mountain she'd climbed with her injury and how hard it had been mentally with each bump in the road, especially when she had to drop out of the last camp.

But here you were, seated in the same area of the stands her family had been when she had won the Euros, watching on in awe at how seamlessly she slipped back into the team. You had missed that fateful day back in 2022, having only met Leah five months after it at a New Year's Eve party, but with the affection Leah described that day with, you may as well have lived it for yourself. Now, having experienced your first game at Wembley since you hadn't gone to that game last year, you were beaming as you watched your girl command her national team around again.

Sure, you'd been to many a game of her's before, but there was something different about this one. There were obvious reasons of course, her injury and whatnot, but seeing her lead her team out to a stadium filled with the most people you'd ever seen her play in front of, a feeling settled in your chest that was unlike anything before. And when she was back in your arms at the end of the game, you would show her exactly how much you treasured her.

So, as she made her way around the stadium post-game, taking the time to applaud all the fans that had come along to watch and signing things for some, there was a smile of admiration on your face that her cousin beside you noticed. You blushed heavily at the teasing nudge she gave you with a smirk on her face.

"I suggest you wipe that cheesy, love-sick smile off your face before she comes over and bullies you for it." The woman next to you said, the pair of you laughing as you rolled your eyes, both all too familiar with her antics.

But the absence of said smile only lasted for about a minute, because then Leah was making her way over to the area of stands where you and her family was, and she had a down-turned smile on her face, the one she always did whilst trying to suppress her actual one. You were sat on the second row behind Leah's immediate family, so you stood back and waited for her to greet them all, also doing so as to not attract much fan attention. Leah made that hard though, because when her Mum pulled her into a bear hug, she indulged herself fully in it for about five seconds before her eyes flitted up to you and the corners of her mouth finally quirked up.

She jokingly pushed her Mum to the side so that she could reach out for you, and leaned up to hug you tightly. However, you pulled away after a few moments, and she made her disapproval very clear.

"What you doing that for?" She quizzed grumpily, looking utterly unimpressed up at you as some of her family members chuckled at her.

"The fans, Leah. We're at Wembley, think of all the videos." You whispered close to her ear, not quite intelligible for the others to hear.

"Who gives a toss, babe, I've hugged all my family here and you're no different." She responded, and she pulled you back in before you could complain. You wouldn't have complained anyway, because really who were you to deny your girlfriend's hug, your favourite in the world.

"Don't throw a strop later if there's about a million different angles of this." You teased, pinching her side where one of your hands rested around her.

"Doesn't matter, it's still you I get to go home with." She murmured before quickly pecking the spot under your ear and pulling back with one last squeeze. When she leaned back, she saw the light blush to your cheeks and smirked. "A year later and I've still got it."

You shoved her away lightly so that she could chat with the rest of her family before going off to do her post-match routine. Seeing her with her family, who she was so tight-knit with, was always a joy to see and you'd never get tired of seeing it. And as she jogged away back to the tunnel, her Mum turned to you and embraced you too.

"Thanks for coming, darling, it means a lot to her and to us too." She told you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. Praise and gratitude from her never got old either.

"Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world." You said back to her, to which she smiled and kissed your cheek.

You and the rest of the group made your way around to the family area inside the stadium to wait for her, making light conversation with them all to pass the time whilst Leah carried out media duties. It was fun and easy spending time with her family, because as a result of your girlfriend's relationship with them, you had grown almost as close with them too. Ever present at family dinners, birthdays, and events like christenings and weddings etc, now it was second nature for you to follow Leah to them. Within only a few months of being with Leah, every invite had your name on it too.

In the middle of your conversation with her cousins, talking excitedly about plans for the summer vacation later that year, you were interrupted as Leah finally appeared in her tracksuit with short wet blonde hair, a soft smile on her face. She spent a bit of time talking some more with her family, before bidding them farewell and wandering over to you.

"Home time?" You wondered, reaching a hand out to brush some of her hair back behind her shoulder.

You had, rather bravely, drove to the stadium today after Leah somehow secured you a reserved parking space, with the plan of driving yourself and Leah home your flat for the night before she travelled back up north to St. George's Park with the team tomorrow.

"God, yes." She sighed, and you smiled up at her.

"Let's go then." You took the hand she offered after pulling up her hood and let her lead the way out of the stadium.

Arriving at your car, with a few curious stares from fans to see if the hooded figure beside you was who they thought it was, you helped her lift her things into the boot of your car before the pair of you clambered in.

For the time it took to drive home, you caught up with her as it had been a few days since you had seen each other whilst she had been at camp. You, ever the safe driver, weren't one to hold your girlfriend's hands whilst on the road, always with two hands on the wheel at all times. Leah teased you of course, her and her English humour never falling to banter you everytime she could, but nevertheless when she was feeling a little clingy her hand would rest on your thigh as you drove, or it would massage and stroke the back of your neck as her arm leaned on your seat's headrest.

Today was a case of her resting a hand mindlessly on your thigh, something you would smile at constantly and glance down at the sight every chance you could get. She didn't notice though, busy talking and too tired to realise. Adjusting back to playing 90 minutes was something she was still in the middle of, not that she couldn't handle them because she obviously can, it's just the tiredness afterwards was something she hadn't experienced in a while of playing professionally.

That meant you weren't exactly surprised when she flopped down immediately on your sofa when you got home, not even bothering to drop her bags off in your room.

"Want some food, love?" You offered, pushing her bags to the side of the hallway so that they weren't a tripping hazard before leaning against the doorway of your lounge.

"You don't have to cook, we can just order a Nando's or something." Leah yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I thought ahead." You smiled at her, giggling at the tired and confused expression she silently responds with. "I meal-planned for you. I can heat up a plate of that Carribbean chicken and rice and veg if you want."

She gazed at you for a few moments before her head dropped back against the pillows with a groan.

"If I had a ring right now, I'd ask to marry you."

With a laugh, you took that as a yes and headed to the kitchen to do exactly as you said. As you were gone, the blonde put Netflix on the TV and chose the sitcom you had been watching together before pausing the episode to wait for you. She sat up with a groan and slumped back heavily, going onto her phone to reply to some friends and family.

Not so long later, you walked back in with Leah's food, handing it to her before sitting down beside her. Plate and fork in hand, she twisted her body to lean her back against your shoulder and happily tucked into her meal as you pressed play on the TV.

"Thanks for this, babe, I'm really grateful." She muttered as she ate, to which you smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's no problem, Le. I made a plate for myself too but I had a hot dog at half-time so I'm not hungry." You revealed, giggling as Leah chuckled.

"I know it's just a plate of food but... I don't know, means a lot to me that you thought about this." With a light blush, you shrugged nonchalantly and kissed the side of her head.

"I would say I know you'd do the same for me, but everybody knows you can't cook." You jested, grinning when she grumbled under her breath.

"I was only being nice, but alright." She huffed, but you only held her tighter against you.

"I'm kidding. I just love you, s'all. Wanna take care of you, especially after the last year and especially because I know you're a bit of a bottomless pit after a game." You say, and she hums in agreement. "If I'd have known my chicken was so good, it inspired thoughts of marriage, I'd have made it more often."

"I could never say no to that."

You both fell silent at that, more than content to enjoy each other's company with the show on in the background. Spending time with you after a game, just relaxing together, was fastly becoming Leah's favourite tradition. Going to dinners with friends or partying were great, but not much could beat this. Great food with even better company, in the arms of her girlfriend, Leah was finally at peace with the silence she had to greet after a game that was anything but.

That was something not many people would guess was a struggle in women's football. Going from playing in tiny stadiums to bigger venues but hardly any fans, to then playing in sold-out game after sold-out game for both club and country, that was her dream. What she wasn't expecting was the mental challenge that came with it. Spending well over 90 minutes in a booming stadium with fans that never ceased their chants was astounding to her, but the silence that met her when she would go home to a quiet and empty apartment was difficult.

She had worked on dealing with it better since the Euros where it had really picked up, but there was one thing that made it so much easier every time without fail. And that was you.

"You know I do plan to marry you, right?" Leah piped up out of nowhere sometime later, her plate long discarded to the coffee table as your positions on the couch remained the same. At her out-of-the-blue question that took your breath away a little, you cleared your throat and nodded though she couldn't see you.

"Yeah."

"Because I do want to marry you one day. I've known that from early on, I actually know the exact moment I thought that."

"Do tell, my love." You smiled, never one to pass up on a chance to hear just how and when Leah had fallen for you.

"The second time we saw each other after the New Year's party, when you started teasing me for not kissing you again after that night."

Much to Alex's dismay, the night of that party yourself and Leah had spent pretty much all of it talking about everything and nothing, compelled by a desire to get to know each other. That was until the blonde's intake of Dutch courage lived up to its name as she kissed you a little more than what could be described as friendly once the clock struck midnight. And when the night ended, no matter how much you didn't want to leave, you both shared a taxi to your respective apartments and exchanged details. It wasn't long before you saw her again though, in fact you saw her twice in the two weeks that followed, but the defender had been a little too embarrassed at her eager act a few weeks prior to kiss you again. But when you teased her one too many times about it, on the third 'date', she huffed before firmly yet delicately gripping your face and finally kissing you again.

"I spoke to Wally after our second date and she called me crazy for knowing I'd marry you when I didn't even have the balls to kiss you again." You laughed loudly at that, a notion Leah soon joined in with as she knew her past-self had acted in a ridiculous and shy way. "But that's the truth, babe. I knew I had to have you, and what better way to show that than snogging the life out of you on a random bench in London."

"Ew, Leah! Why describe it like that? I thought it was such a sweet moment, but you've just described it like we were two horny teenagers." She grimaced at the point you made, regretting it already.

"My bad. It was sweet. If not a bit... desperate." She snickered, grinning when you swatted her shoulder. "So, would you marry me then?"

"Wow. If this conversation couldn't get any less romantic, I think you've just put the nail in the coffin." Leah scoffed and sat up, fixing you with a disapproving look.

"That wasn't my actual proposal, you knob. I just wanna know if you'd say yes when I did eventually ask. Properly, that is." The defender asked with a shy smile, and you couldn't help but giggle at her face, doing so more when she frowned in confusion.

"Yes, I would accept your proposal. As long as it's with a nice ring and a better speech." You answered to put her out of her misery. She lets out a relieved sigh but smiling again.

"Noted."

With that, she stood up, now your turn to be confused. Squealing as she lifted you up bridal style, you laughed when she lay you down on your back length-ways across the sofa. Then, she kneeled against the cushions under your knees and carefully laid on top of you, her head resting against your stomach. Her hands came up to slide under your back and she sighed contently.

"Comfy?" You asked with a smile, your own hands settling on the back of her head.

"So comfy." She hummed, eyes closed as she faced away from the TV.

"If you're gonna fall asleep, Le, we may as well go to bed."

"No." She grunted. "I won't fall asleep. I just want to lay here for a bit."

"Alright." You conceded, your attention fully lost from the TV and instead on the girl draped over you.

You admired the slight view of her face available to you, your hands combing delicately through her almost dried hair as the only sounds shared between you were the calm and quiet breaths you both let out. A few minutes passed by and you thought she had gone to sleep, but she proved you wrong.

"This is my dream, you know."

"What is?" You asked her, moving one of your hands to rest on the side of your face and stroking her skin there with your thumb.

"Going home from a game to someone I love. Who I can fully switch off with." The small explanation had you beaming, beyond happy to hear how special you were to her.

"Well, I'm glad I can help, my love." You replied, a sheepishly proud smile on your face.

"I used to find it hard, y'know... our football blew up in popularity during the Euros, and I struggled with it more than I expected." You hummed curiously, not wanting to disrupt her train of thought but letting her know you wanted her to continue. "Going from being surrounded by up to ninety thousand people, singing and chanting and cheering non-stop, to just... nothing when I got home. Just a cold, empty, silent apartment. The contrast of it troubled me a lot. I worked through it with a psychologist and coped with it better, but it was never perfect."

She paused, adjusting her position so that her hands came to rest under her chin as she looked up at you, that same down-turned smile from earlier returning. Your hands fell to clasp behind her neck, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Then you came around, and now that anxiety doesn't even phase me anymore."

Now, if that wasn't the most heart-warming thing your girlfriend had said so far, you weren't sure what was.

"That makes me so happy, Leah." You whispered, cupping her cheeks with your hands and smiling softly at her.

"One of my favourite things about our relationship is how easy it is for me to switch from Leah Williamson the footballer, to just Leah when I'm around you. Makes coming home after a game much easier."

Shaking your head, you took her hands and urged her to move further up your body so that her head rested against your chest. Wrapping your arms around her, you squeezed her tightly, desperate to convey your love to her in a way words couldn't explain.

"I'll happily welcome 'Just Leah' home all the time."

"Now you're ruining the moment."

[elliesflower]

loser!!!!!bff!!!!ellie!!!!!!!! hc's

i’m just jumping on the loser!ellie train bc i actually love it and i feel like she’s such a loser despite her commitment issues like…she wants to believe in love so bad, SO BAD that she is actually a hopeless romantic deep down she literally can’t help it but it’s trapped under her awkward funny girl exterior. she's so me fr 😵‍💫

all these are sfw except for a lil sum special for you FREAKS at the end teehee so as with all my content, please 18+ only, mdni!!!

cw; afab!reader, smut (at the end)

♡ all her doodles of cat and dina hello??? she’d have a whole fucking journal dedicated to just drawings of you, every time you hang out she’d be discreetly letting her eyes linger on your face so that she can sketch you out later. and she’d smile while sketching you i know she would, her cheeks would get all red and maybe she’d even giggle she wants you so bad!!! 

♡ she’d be on patrol and see a beautiful yellow flower and immediately think of you, she has to pick it for her best friend, she HAS to!! she’d lose her balance on her damn horse trying to protect it from getting damaged while she rode back into town, but it’s worth it to see the smile on your pretty face 

♡ i feel like she'd follow you around. in any context. patrol? she's slightly behind your horse to keep an eye on you. walking around jackson? she's literally always right behind your left shoulder, letting you lead the way. party at dina's? she's practically glued to you the whole night, and when the liquor would hit she was a little handsy, pathetically looping a finger through your belt loop as she followed you to the bathroom, moving your hair out of your face when you'd talk to her, etc.. and of course the next day she'd get so sick when she recalled her behavior, feeling shameful and wondering if you were catching on (ofc you were).

♡ and she’d dream about you all the time oh my gosh! esp after hanging out with you all day she wouldn’t be able to get you out of her head when she gets home. maybe she’ll definitely even write your name with a little heart next to it in her journal when she’s recalling the day. her subconscious would manifest the way that you looked trying to play her guitar into her dreams that night

♡ speaking of guitar, she’d 10000% write songs for you. she wouldn’t tell you they’re for you, of course, she’d just play the most beautiful love song you’ve ever heard and play it off like it was nothing. but when she gets home she’d probably cry because she was too scared to make a move on you :( 

♡ i also mentioned this in a previous post but this bitch would love frank ocean, so i can see her falling asleep listening to thinkin bout you and crying bout you :( or imagine in a modern world her sketching in her journal while listening to ivy before she starts to cry because she's so frustrated by her own awkwardness, and the fact she can't ever seem to tell you how she feels :((((

♡ if you ever got into another relationship would be beating herself up over it, like why didn't she make a move sooner? and she wouldn't be able to help herself, she'd get extra moody whenever your partner was around, distant and clearly irritated. poor baby is just so bad at expressing her feelings that whenever you'd ask her about it she'd just throw it under the rug and say she's on her period or something

♡ but when you and your partner inevitably broke up, of course she was right there to be your shoulder to cry on. you'd show up at her house sobbing in the middle of the night, and i think it would take her aback, honestly, how she felt her own tears falling as she embraced you on her doorstep. she would be so emotionally connected to you, your tears were hers, and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel better. she'd throw out an empty threat to your ex, and it'd make you smile. she loves to see you smile, gosh she'd do anything to make you happy, she just loves you so much!

♡ she wouldn't. stop. with the fucking. dad jokes. she'd be insatiable, truly, like...you were starting to wonder if she was getting off on telling them to you or something. but really, she just wanted to make you feel better, any little thing she could do to make you laugh would make her feel like she did good enough for the day

♡ and you'd start to see her romantically after a while, how could you not? and why didn't you sooner? she'd be so easily flustered though, every time your hand would linger on her shoulder, or whenever you'd squeeze her even tighter as you watched a horror movie...her heart would start beating all fast and her cheeks would get so rosy. maybe her pussy would even throb when she noticed you bending over extra slowly while getting dressed one day. and of course you were doing it for her

♡ she wouldn't be able to contain herself when you kiss her for the first time. and of course you made the first move, you think a loser like ellie would ever kiss you first? she'd been so desperate for you for so long i really think she might whine into your mouth. she's a whimperer, really, she'd probably gasp when you shove your hand down the front of her pants and get your fingers moving over her clit,

"oh! oh m'god," she'd be pathetic, her jaw clenching as she whined into your shoulder while your fingers slid between her wet folds with ease. she'd cum so fucking fast you'd barely have time to blink, repeating your name over and over like a prayer as she made a mess of your hand. you've never seen her like this, lust clouding her inhibition and making her so desperate it was like she was brainless, grabbing your wrist and bringing your slick-covered fingers to her mouth to suck them clean.

"i gotta taste you," she'd whine, and she'd make sure you were comfortable on the bed before spreading your legs and eating you out like she was a woman possessed, literally drunk on the taste of your pussy.

"taste so fucking good," between kitten licks to your clit, did she even know what she was saying? "i love you, i fucking love you," of course she was confessing her love for you now, when she had her nose buried in your cunt, intoxicated by the sound of your moans and the feeling of your skin being indented by her fingertips.

she may be a loser, but she'd be your loser.

[flamebringer0]

About Nightwing Powers

Wow it turns out you can attach titles to posts, awesome. I will now make another post.

It always drove me kind of crazy how Nightwing powers are presented in canon. I think it drives a lot of people crazy because I've seen more than one person's headcanon adjustments to them. So here is my contribution to that genre.

Some Nightwings have perceptual abilities that other dragons -- other Nightwings and members of other tribes -- lack. One is the ability to read minds, the other is the ability to see the future.

All Nightwings develop both future sight and mind reading in the egg. The mind of a fetus can't integrate any of this information, and most will lose both abilities long before learning to understand what they mean. The dragonet's third eye closes, so to speak, within hours after hatching, and will stay that way for the rest of their life. For unclear reasons, the loss of these abilities is prevented by exposure to the light of a full moon immediately after hatching.

Nightwings always hatch at night, at least if the eggs are exposed to the sky. Those who hatch under a full moon retain the ability either to read minds or see the future, whereas those who hatch under two or three full moons retain both. The presence of these abilities also causes the development of silver scales on the face. A mind reader has a silver scale at the outer corner of each eye, whereas a prophet has a silver scale in the center of the forehead.

[Image ID: Two simplistic line drawings of a dragon's head. These drawings are identical with each other aside from the placement of specific scales, which are highlighted in white. The left drawing is labeled "mind reading" and shows two crescent-shaped scales at the corners of the dragon's eyes. The right drawing is labeled "prophecy" and shows an eye-shaped scale in the center of the dragon's forehead. /.End ID]

The appearance of the silver scales correlates with the strength of the ability. A larger, rounder scale indicates greater power.

[Image ID: Five simplistic line drawings of a dragon's head. These drawings are identical with each other, and with the drawings in the previous image, except in the placement of specific scales. The first drawing is labeled "Starflight" and has no highlighted scales. The second is labeled "Fatespeaker" and has two crescent shaped scales near the eyes. These scales are very thin, much thinner than those of the drawing that was labeled "mind reading". The third is labeled "Clearsight" and has a single scale in the center of the forehead. This scale is large and perfectly round. The fourth is labeled "Moonwatcher" and has three scales: two at the corners of the eyes, and one in the center of the forehead. These scales are shaped identically to those of the "mind reading" and "prophecy" drawings from the previous image. The last drawing is labeled "Darkstalker" and has three scales: two at the corners of the eyes, and one in the center of the forehead. All of these scales are large and perfectly round. /.End ID]

A dragon hatched under three full moons inevitably has the most powerful prophecy and mind reading. Other than that, it's unclear what exactly makes the abilities of one Nightwing stronger than those of another.

Raw power isn't the whole story, though. Clearsight is the greatest prophet of all time, but she isn't the most powerful prophet of all time (or even the most powerful in her immediate friend group). It just turns out that a dragon who diligently works on her abilities will have a certain advantage over one who believes he is already the most powerful and has an inevitable destiny.

It may not be immediately obvious what it would mean for someone to be "more" or "less" powerful at mind reading or prophecy, but there are two relevant metrics: clarity, and control. I think the names are self-explanatory, but just in case, here's a metaphor. If you imagine Nightwing powers as a flashlight shining into a dark room, clarity is the brightness of the bulb, and control is how easily one can direct the beam. These metrics are not really independent: weakly empowered Nightwings will be weak in both aspects, and strongly empowered Nightwings will be strong in both aspects. For those in the middle, who make up the majority, clarity is more developed than control.

The strongest prophets can direct their vision down many different paths, examining the futures that cascade out of intricate chains of decisions, possibly centuries into the future. The weakest prophets have occasional, muddled impressions that a certain decision in their immediate future might lead to something good or bad. In between are the average prophets, who have clear visions, but little ability to control when they occur or what they are about.

Similarly, the strongest mind readers can root around in another dragon's mind and examine any fact, belief or memory they're interested in, whereas the weakest may have a vague impression of the most immediate, intense feelings of whomever they're around. Average mind readers can clearly read the surface thoughts of other dragons, but can't probe arbitrary mental structures without somehow activating them -- by inducing the target to actively reminisce about a memory or some such thing.

In the old days, back when Nightwings understood where their powers came from, it was quite common for ambitious parents to try to time the conception of their eggs so that they would hatch under the full moon(s). For a single full moon, this is almost pointless: the quickest of the three moons cycles through its phases in just a few weeks, and the variation in the incubation period for a Nightwing egg is great enough that it can't be reliably timed to any specific moon phase. For two and three moon nights, this practice is more meaningful, but only in the very general sense that someone who doesn't conceive an egg roughly a year before the brightest night definitely won't have any thrice-moonborn dragonets, whereas someone who does, might.

Some seers would also offer advice about how to do this. For the most part, this advice was snake oil; only the most powerful seers could decide to have a vision about a particular egg's future. Even among the few who could, it would be extremely difficult to see and articulate all the subtle factors that lead an egg to hatch after a longer or shorter incubation, and most of them would be far outside the ability of the parents to really control anyway.

More unscrupulous parents would occasionally try to break an egg open under the full moons, regardless of whether the dragonet was ready to hatch on their own. This practice has never been successful, as hatching in this way disrupts the delicate developmental process needed for the dragonet to retain their power. It is also quite dangerous, and many of the dragonets who were subject to this simply died.

Foeslayer and Arctic didn't do any of this, incidentally. They just got lucky. Or they got unlucky. Depending on which of them you ask.

Speaking of Foeslayer and Arctic's kids, Whiteout has both Nightwing powers. It's not because she hatched one day after the brightest night, though. Hatching a day after a full moon doesn't grant any power. It's actually a manifestation of synesthesia. Synesthesia causes sensory modalities that are unrelated in most people to correlate in a specific way. Whiteout, like all Nightwings who hatched under no full moons, lost direct access to her abilities shortly after hatching. However, she's still able to use them indirectly via synesthetic influence on her other senses. This is why she describes Clearsight as "azure on the inside": to her, Clearsight's thought patterns are azure in a fairly literal sense.

Another Nightwing whose power manifests in an unusual way is Flame. I mean, Flame isn't actually a Nightwing, but he has a semi-recent Nightwing ancestor. That's why he has a forked tongue, unlike other Skywings, and why he has darker scales than any other Skywing. And he hatched under a full moon, so he can read minds. But since his Nightwing ancestry is slight, his power is extremely weak. It's so weak that he has never become consciously aware of it, and most of the time, it doesn't really affect anything. But if someone thinks really hard about him, he senses it. This is why he's the only dragon Moon has ever met who can tell when someone's looking into his mind. It's a very weak form of the same two-way communication she uses to talk to Darkstalker.

In the year 5000, Nightwings have largely lost access to their powers, since they no longer allow their eggs to hatch under the moonlight. Contrary to what Moon thinks, this isn't because they're afraid of hatching another Darkstalker. After all, if it were specifically desired to avoid hatching eggs under the full moons, we would expect to see some kind of active prohibition, or at least some sort of legend about the terrible consequences of doing so. What actually happened is that the Nightwings' new home prevented them from hatching eggs in moonlight, and after a few generations with no mind readers and no prophets, the dragons started to believe their own abilities were legendary or allegorical.

Despite the Nightwings' present powerlessness, belief in their abilities persists. The Nightwings encourage these rumors, and also train their dragonets to imitate the power they lack. This training mostly consists of cold reading and theatrics, not unlike the techniques human con artists use to simulate psychic powers. However, they also leverage the one sensory ability that Nightwings still have over all* other dragons: an extremely strong sense of smell. Most dragons are aware that Nightwings smell better than members of other tribes, but they don't grasp that they may leak private information through subtle odors that only Nightwings can perceive. By examining the smell of another dragon's body, modern Nightwing "seers" and "mind readers" deduce information in a way that is easily mistaken for magic by the uninitiated.

Darkstalker is highly scandalised by this practice when he wakes up, not least because he has an Icewing-tier nose and can't do it.

Now that Nightwings are living in the rainforest, it's likely that their extrasensory abilities will start to become more common again. Unfortunately, their only connection to the ancient techniques for controlling those abilities turned out to be evil and was sent to gay baby jail. It will likely fall on Moonwatcher to begin the process of re-developing these practices and teaching them to a new generation of Nightwing dragonets.

*Actually, Seawings can smell nearly as well. But only underwater.

[forlovvers]

( your fault! )

pair: sunghoon x f!reader | genre: fluff, just a tad suggestive, e2??? | warning(s): a soaked white shirt, one swear word lol | wc: 1k ish | synopsis: in which you and sunghoon are very late for school.

lynne’s notez 🗒️ : another consistent post .. who am i

something about you gets under park sunghoon’s skin. normally, he’s calm and collected, but whenever you enter the room it’s like you make it your life’s goal to annoy him to ends meet. you’re constantly poking at him and making small remarks about the way he pushes his hair back or the way his handwriting wasn’t perfect. 

“why’s your jacket unbuttoned? tryna impress someone, park?” you’d say, drawing his name out. and he’d intentionally roll his eyes, making sure you saw it. while thinking of a snotty comeback, sunghoon would slyly button up his jacket (the unbuttoned thing was suggested by niki, why sunghoon took the younger’s advice is beyond him). maybe he was upset because you were right or the fact that the person who he was trying to impress didn’t give him a second glance. either way, park sunghoon wasn’t very happy that day. 

and of course, you were the one person he bumped into while being late to school. sunghoon had decided that maybe he’d treat himself to some coffee before his classes, but the new barista was very clumsy and had to remake his favorite drink twice! so much that it didn’t even taste like his favorite drink anymore. 

while turning the last corner to school, you just had to be in the way. it was almost like the heavens above were punishing him for skipping that one skating practice in eighth grade. 

when the two of you collide, sunghoon’s drink goes flying from his hands and because the new barista doesn’t know how to put on the top properly, the contents of his iced mocha land across your white button-up and it immediately soaks through the light material. 

“park! are you serious!” you yell suddenly, your hands flying up in frustration. you were already having the worst day. firstly, your alarm was set to 7pm instead of 7am and all of your school blazers had not been done drying since you put them in the washing machine last night. on top of all this you just had to run to into park sunghoon and his stupid iced mocha. 

the coffee stains your shirt and you can feel it bleed through the thin fabric, leaving a big black mark across your chest and the unmistakable smell of strong coffee mixing with your perfume. you swear under your breath, reaching up to try and wipe it off with no luck. 

you spot a hose attached to the side of a local fish shop, you were sure the owner wouldn’t mind if you used it. without a second thought, you walk over and detach the hose and grab a bucket from the stack nearby (hopefully it hadn’t been filled with fishes beforehand). 

sunghoon watches you dumbly as you continue to fill up the bucket. “what are you doing?” he asks and walks over to you to get a closer look. you’ve already pulled your hair to the side as you hand him the bucket. 

“you want me to do the ice bucket challenge on you?” sunghoon’s eyes widen at the odd request and you want to strangle him. this was no time for jokes. 

“are you an idiot? just pour a little on my shirt to get the stain out. i can’t show up to class an hour late and dirty clothes.” you say irritatingly. you tug on the shirt to get it as far from your skin as possible and pray sunghoon doesn’t get any water on your pants. 

“doesn’t this need soap?” sunghoon hesitantly raises the bucket up. although he might hate your guts, dowsing you in fish shop water didn’t seem the most appropriate way to go about this. 

“just do it.”

“okay nike,” sunghoon gently pours the water over the stain, careful to not let too much spill out. the more he pours, the more he realizes how close the two of you are and how your shirt seems to become more and more transparent. 

your shirt is practically see-through and sunghoon really does try to polite about it without spilling water all over you, but it’s quite hard to contain the water without properly looking at you. there’s a pink that dusts his cheeks and he can’t help but want to bang his head onto a wall. 

deciding he’s had enough, sunghoon abruptly drops the bucket to the floor and starts to shrug off his own blazer. he was a gentleman, of course. “wear this.” is all he says, dropping it into your hands. 

you eye him suspiciously but take it any way with a small nod of thanks. “this is all your fault yknow?” you say, buttoning his blazer up. it was a bigger than your own, but you should be able to still get away with it at school. 

“my fault?” sunghoon says in disbelief. he can’t believe he just gave you his blazer (which he might get written up for for not having) just for you to say that. “it’s not my fault you have a shit sense of direction.” he defends himself surely.

“whatever you say, park.” the nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly and the more you use it, the sweeter it sounds to sunghoon. once you finish putting on the blazer, you reach for your previously discarded backpack, but sunghoon beats you to it.

“what are you doing?” you throw him a confused look as he pulls the straps of your bag over his shoulder. 

“it’s the least i could do, i mean it’s my fault, right?” a boyish grin tugs at sunghoon’s lips and he starts walking ahead, forcing you to catch up.

you aren’t sure if it’s his teasing tone, his rolled up sleeves exposing his arms or his stupid smile, but you begin to see sunghoon in a different light.

[incorrect-trolls-imagines]

PART TWO OF THE ANGST SCENARIOS, LET'S GOOO!!! @itzninacottoncandyuwu

PART ONE

I'm kinda mixing this one and the idea of reader fainting suddenly ayyee

♥️🖤💙 Partner Squad x Overworked!Y/N ♥️🖤💙

💞 As a whole 💞

💞 After you come back home looking more than just worse for wear and you pass out the second you decide to take a quick seat, everyone is immediately concerned for you.

💞 You'd been constantly overworking yourself for days now, refusing to take a proper rest, refusing help from everyone and pushing yourself more and more everyday until it was too much for your body and there you are now. Sprawled on the couch, snoring and with hesvy bags under your eyes. 

💞 When you wake back up again, tucked in bed, you already know you're in for a lecture from them or something.

💞 Yeah, you get Super Lectured. It's not fun.

💞 Simply put, all of them are mortified for you but there's also a constant I Told You So vibe to them once they start to practically force some chill pills down your throat.

♥️ Barb ♥️

♥️ After that little incident, she's always pulling you into whatever leisure activity she's got going on. No, she doesn't care you're not into her sea glass collection, you're going to sit down and relax, dammit.

♥️ He's kinda rough on her approach but that's just because she worries a lot about you and it was your stubbornness that got you all overworked in the first place.

♥️ She'll offer some help here and there to make whatever load you're struggling with easier, but she prefers the angle where she helps you wind down after a hard day's work.

🩵 Branch 🩵

🩵 This man is just as overworked as you are but that doesn't matter right now, Y/N, you literally dropped into that couch like Peter Griffin and passed out.

🩵 He won't even ask you if you want some help after that, nah. He'll force his way into whatever it was that got you this stressed out and tired and help, wherever you want it or not.

🩵 He'll kinda end up overworking himself with helping you not get overworked and then it's your turn to call him out.

🧡 Hickory 🧡

🧡 Out of the whole polycule, he's the best suited to deal with this situation.

🧡 He knows the best way to help you out is not forcing yourself to relax or forcing his help into your business, but rather he'll help you to find the balance yourself.

🧡 He'll do little gestures or leave little post-it notes around to remind you to take a break from time to time and they'll work everytime (specially when he draws little doodles of what's supposed to be himself going “👍”).

🩷 Poppy 🩷

🩷 She becomes a little of a mother hen and she'll be constantly asking you if you're tired or if you need any help. And when I say constantly, I mean constantly. It's kinda a lot, but she'll stop after the first time you tell her to chill.

🩷 She'll feel bad if you're overworking yourself over anything related to her; if you're helping her around Pop Village or anything like that, she'll immediately find someone else to take your place.

🩷 She won't say to your face “hey, maybe you should sit down”, but she'll be making small comments and jokes about that. A lot of them. It's almost kinda passive aggressive??? You know she means well and her heart is in the right place, but you also tell her to chill with that too.

💚 Tresillo 💚

💚 After Hick, Tresillo is the best next candidate to help you figure this stuff out. You're a grown adult and he knows you're capable enough to find a balance between Relaxation Times and Working Times.

💚 He's got a more direct approach and he'll straight up tell you whatever advice he can think of at the first sign of you starting to stress yourself out.

💚 His advice can go from very insightful and philosophical words that turn your way of thinking upside down to literally just “babe, stop and take a good look at those clouds, ain't they pretty?”

💙 Trollex 💙

💙 He doesn't look like it, but this guy over here can sometimes overwork himself right out to the point of having to take entire days to recover. But heavens forbid you even think about doing something like that, heck no.

💙 You've got responsibilities too, but those are never important enough to risk your health to the point that you can't stay awake anymore, that's simply not cool.

💙 He's more focused on keeping an eye on your sleeping schedule and making sure you're actually taking breaks from time to time everyday. Like, he'll be literally watching from around the corner like a cat and stuff.

[bloobydabloob]

Any tips on getting better at realism? I've been drawing very cartoony works forever but I really want to branch out and draw more realistically and hone that style but Everytime I try it never feels human 😔

Suuuure. Sorry it’s fairly long, answer under the split thing.

I’d say mainly just practice drawing from reference first. Before I started doing any sort of more abstractive or non referential realism, I spent time practicing with maybe 20 or 30 paintings from reference.

Here are just some that I made during that time. I think they really really helped me to learn the principles of painting appealing realism, different kinds of people, color, skin, lighting, and anatomy.

In terms of actually drawing realism (whether from reference or not) I think the most important tip I can give, as well as the most overlooked ironally, is stylisation. Most realism that I see doesn’t connect at all with me which I think is maybe what you’re talking about when you say your portraiture doesn’t “feel human”.

Learning to draw realism in my eyes is largely about learning how to shortcut every single thing you can. So instead of drawing everything exactly how it is using an image, learn how to stylise realism in your own way. I find that if you don’t find a way to simplify the process, it can end up being A : Busy and B : hard for you to create more realistic images from imagination or from real life instead of photographs.

Here is a 40 minute drawing I just drew from a random photo I pulled off Pinterest + small explanation on what helps me to break down an image. I simplify realistic portraiture by adopting somewhat of an angular style, but the best realism / semi realism artists I know of draw realism using their own stylisation methods.

I also personally find that it helps to start by blocking in instead of sketching with lines, but I understand that this is a personal preference and might not work for you.

I also say this for everything but there is no “cheating” in art and anyone who tells you there is fundamentally doesn’t know anything about drawing, especially in the learning process. Cheat if you want. Use grids to plot where things will be, colorpick, trace, liquify, transform, whatever. Although I do also recommend that you only use this as a way to learn and don’t rely on it as a crutch, it helps a lot to be able to draw independently of all of these factors. But I learned to draw partially *by* being a kid who traced and colorpicked and fucked around. Who cares

This applies to everything too but just practice a lot. I’m too embarrassed to show but when I first starting drawing semi realistic art without reference it fucking sucked. Like *really* fucking sucked because I am extremely extremely faceblind and I mean that. It takes me 3 seasons of a show to recognise an actor’s face. But because I’ve drawn hundreds of faces now I know what I’m doing kind of. I also never post any realism art immediately because oftentimes if I don’t look at it for a day or two, I’ll come back to it and notice that something doesn’t look quite right. I would say that definitely helps.

ALSO very important but look at it from far away or a little version. I always look at my drawing in the digital navigator on FA and it helps me to notice when something looks dumb.

Anyways hope this helped at all… lalala. I don’t know man. Don’t take my words as bible I’m just some guy and I am also not a professional and realism is definitely not my strong suit. Tutorials are bullshit and if you think any of this advice sucks for you then don’t take it and forge your own path. Bless

[itspyon]

drawing realism is pretty funny because you start hyperanalizing your subjects' traits and find out fun details about them that you don't perceive at first (or originally thought of them differently)

anyways here a list of dnf anatomy details that i've collected through intense studying:

1. dream does not have a large jawline actually. his top one is just completely straight, and his bottom one has no side downward curve. usually human skulls will have the top jaw sit at about a 30° angle, but his is just flat. it makes his bottom jaw look a lot more out. this carries all the way up to his forehead too. his bottom jaw is also almost completely straight from the mandibular angle to the chin.

2. george has THE HIGHEST CHEEKBONES. he just has an equally wide mandibular angle (meaning, his jaw doesn't taper in as much), so it doesn't look like it until you compare his cheeks to his side brow bones

3. george also has very long lips horizontally, and a very angular chin, which gives him this constant almost pouty look, so when he smiles he just has a beautiful lip shape

4. dream has a very consistent beard. no splotchiness whatsoever.

5. he also has a mole immediately below his jawline on his right side (or the side of the ear that is not pierced)

6. one of george's eyebrows is significantly taller than the other one on the arch. the start of his eyebrows are also fairly thin and sit pretty low. (he is not escaping the eyebrow plucking/threading allegations imo, they are so incredibly clean)

7. dream's nose looks almost cartoonish from the side from how soft the curve is. from the front, the tip sits pretty low compared to his nostrils

8. george's is a little more hooked AT THE END (he does not have full hooked nose, his bridge is very inwards on the top half), and from the front the tip and nostrils sit at the same height. it makes it look kind of like a tiny wide triangle

9. they both have very long cupid's bows, george a bit more than dream (see late point 8)

10. "dream is puppy coded" and it's because his eyelids are diagonal in the same way puppies have diagonal eye curves ! he very literally has dog eyes

11. dream's middle lashes are very long, and they get darker as you go out. george's are long all around and VERY full. they both have pretty crazy bottom lashes

12. i am once again highlight george's bottom lip. what a beautiful man

13. cameras need to stop hatecriming dream's freckles. set them free. (they mostly sit directly under his eyes next to his nose. he also has some on his chin, it's very charming)

14. gnf comes from the miranda cosgrove school of fake wasians. having deepset eyes, extremely hooded eyes and consistent, very deep aegyo sal will do that to you. (i say this as an asian with much love). don't be scared to draw his eyes properly, he's not beating the wasian allegations, you're allowed to post your "concerningly asian looking" gnf fanart (whoever says this to you send them to me i will beat them up). that's just how he looks. just make sure his nose is right and you're good 👍

15. dream is a LOT larger than what you think in the horizontal axis. door width. huge forearms. his waist is just "small" (average male waist size). don't let it deceive you

that's all for now i'll reblog with more as i find them have fun arting

[miningroseakira]

! Do not repost, edit, steal, NFT, claim as your own, and so on and so fourth ! [Reblogs and Comments help the artist and are very much appreciated!]

Hi. I'm alive and I'm gonna forego updating my artblog and just post this bc it took. too long, and I'm done having the "my artblog needs to have everything on it chronologically" mindset on here

I've fallen face first back into my mcyt/life series/hc obsession, and specifically my helsmits. The title of this file is "drawing other people's hels as a warmup"...... .....needless to say that warmup escalated and I've been drawing on these for like two or three days-

~~~ 1. The two in the bottom left are my own fallsmits (= helsmits with extra steps, lol) for Bdubs and Tango, Sleepless and SwingTek the beloveds- Swing has an inbetween of his natural and his "I'm totally TangoTek guys" hair colors in this doodle, because I said so.

2. Top left is a Hels!Stress named AnxiousBeast, who belongs to @square-milk. the possum thing is so creative, and I love her grian-esque unhinged vibes, so I just had to draw her 3. Top right is a Hels!Grian concept by @daffodily that I had my eye on when I first got into helsmits a year or two ago, but I don't think I ever ended up drawing him. No name given, as far as I could tell. Super dark with the stitches and everything but I love it. Totally different vibes but he does remind me a tiny bit of my falls!grian, Gregory, and I'm all for that - it's probably mostly the sweater color though jhdfkjgh but still

4. Bottom right is Foxtrot, a Hels!Tango with a very cool name, posted by @neoflames. I love the ice+siren powers this one has, plus the hair is very cool (no pun intended)

5. Central to this doodle page is Iota, a Hels!Grian design I saw and immediately became obsessed with. what the hels. who comes up with this stuff. (the answer is @rhapsoddity. rhapsoddity comes up with this stuff.)

6. And last but most certainly not least! At the center of the top is a figure that people on my art blog will have seen before, and that anyone who's browsed the helsmit tags will recognize - the beloved Limbo Lag by @galaxygermdraws. what a guy. what a little guy. he needs a hug someone hug him NOW this is an order. I'm sure my boy Swing would be glad to hear he's not the only blue tango counterpart giving off sad little guy energy

~~~

I'm gonna post this on this mcyt blog first and then reblog it to my artblog because I feel like it. this took so much more time and effort than I meant for it to fjhgkjf please I'm super tired so let me know if I made any errors with tagging people or names of characters

[Closeups under the cut]

[thefayecoven]

Do people talk about Stevedrian (Steve x Adrian) on here? This is a crack ship I found on tiktok that caught my eye because of how absurd it was , and I ended up making a bunch of screenshot edits / art of them.

(I doubt it will but if this art catches your eye and you redistribute it remember to credit me-)

Tumblr has been lacking on content from me (sorry) so I’ll spill some details :3 In my extended owl house S3 AU, the Hexside students aren’t exactly without adult figures !

In the aftermath of the day of Unity, Steve manages to save Adrian and they end up traveling together upon not having many options + due to Steve’s general compassion and having related to Adrian’s sibling troubles, as he was having some of his own (Mattholomule heavily upset with him for knowing about the mission to put sigils on Hexside students and not putting a stop to it).

I’ll tap into Adrian’s backstory / his sibling and parents in another post, but long story short, Steve makes up with Matt and is permitted to stay to help with the efforts against the collector, and Adrian is permitted to stay solely because his sibling in Hexside hesitantly vouches for him under the guise of him being able to give them vital information only a coven head would know. And thus begins a Steve and Adrian rebellion partnership !

Even their acquaintanceship is rocky at first. This crack ship is definitely not an immediate thing, and romance isn’t even on the table until months after, so def not one of those stories if that’s what you’re looking for.

They don’t really have much of a choice other than to build a bond with one another given that they’re the only adults in the New Hexside boarding situation, but they do eventually. I’m lacking on details at the moment because I haven’t fully run through episodes (though I have lots of ideas!!) but Steve’s growing fondness of Adrian comes with Adrian’s development as a person.

Steve is civil to him in the beginning because that’s the kind of person he is, not because he liked Adrian or was fond of his personality. Adrian is a very selfish, vain individual after all.

It’s only after he begins to defend the students more, engage in teamwork, become less self absorbed and more of a caring individual (to a degree..) and focus more on those around him than himself and his needs that Steve is able to genuinely take a liking to him.

On the other hand, Steve doesn’t need to change as a person for Adrian to take a liking to him. Adrian just needed to get his head out of the gutter, aka unlearning asshole behavior that made him cold , uncompassionate and uncaring towards.. everyone 💀 it’s only when he slowly begins to unlearn this trait of his that he’s able to appreciate Steve more, and the two can equally care for one another.

As for any romance, I guarantee they had a smooch or two right when Belos was defeated, but completely forgot about it and/or avoided the topic for as long as possible until they finally got together or whatever. I’m more for dynamic over romantic tropes so if I ever write them as a couple it’s not gonna be spectacular. I can draw it though!

Speaking of which, timeskip Steve and Adrian incoming as my final screenshot edit lmaooo

[okkalo]

Okie! If requests are still open, I'd like to see what you think of this scenario:

Beach vacay, reader gets a sunburn (can be mild or lobster-y)

How would Ryusei, Reo, and Kunigami help their bbg?

Thank you!

Ps, I LOVED the "ily" hc you posted! They were very cute 😍

hi again! i’m glad u enjoyed the other request! and thank u for another req 🤭 this one hit close to home bc i literally just got a sunburn the other day but anyways i hope u enjoy!!

warnings: reader is suggested to be a girl in reo’s

characters: shidou, reo, kunigami

shidou

- ABSOLUTELY laughs at you.

- and just know that if you get on his nerves he will smack your sunburnt part

- might feel bad depending on how you react

- brags about how he doesn’t burn and only tans after laughing at you

- i would say tell him to shut up or something but once again he will smack your burn

- once he actually sees you upset he will start to care a little bit

- doesn’t really help with the burn though, he just treats you nicer

shidou had just gotten out of the shower, hair damp and towel around his naked waist, when he saw you wincing and breathing out a small ‘ow’ while putting on aloe. his carefree stroll immediately stopped while his posture slumped, his cocky face turning more serious at the sight. he gave another sigh as you winced once again at the pain before walking up to sit in the space next to you.

a small smirk decorated his lips at the glare you send his way, expecting him to start adding more salt to your wound. “hey, hey, i’m not gonna do nothin’. my baby’s in pain and i gotta make em’ feel better.” he spoke with a suave voice, snaking an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to place a gentle kiss on your neck. as much as you hated to admit, a few kisses from him definitely did make you feel better.

after a few more kisses from him you decided to end it there, your eyes roaming to his still naked lower body. you sighed, giving him a soft kiss on the lips before pushing him away, turning your attention back to your bowl of aloe vera. “go put your pants on, ryu.” he huffed, not wanting to follow someone else’s orders, going straight back in for your neck to pepper some rough kisses on your burnt skin. good luck with that.

reo

- he makes sure to keep your skin protected at all costs

- buys you expensive sunscreen and always tries to bring some source of shade because he doesn’t want you burning

- but it just so happened that you guys had been a part from each other when you got the burn

- when you walk in to your shared place with reo he just sighed, dropping everything he was doing to go get aloe

- scolds you while making you sit on the bathroom counter with him rubbing aloe into your skin

“this is why i should’ve gone with you,” he sighed, scooping up a clump of aloe before gently rubbing it on your thigh, his face in a focused frown. you remember him whining about how he wanted to go with you. you knew the real reason he wanted to go with you was to see you in a bathing suit and get to put sunscreen on your bare skin.

“it would’ve been weird if you had gone.” you sighed right back, tired of his complaining. “you would’ve been the only guy, weirdo.” you stated, watching his brows furrow as he raised his head to look at you with an offended face.

“i can be one of the girls!” he exclaimed, drawing a laugh out of you. you could only rake your fingers through his hair before patting his head. he sighed at the lack of response, eyes dropping once again to focus on your burnt leg. he would come up with another complaint in the next five seconds.

kunigami

- would probably be a worrier like reo except less extreme

- he would always try to put sunscreen on you when you were out in the sun that day

- he gets distracted that day, however, meaning he didn’t get the chance to remind you to put on the protectant

- feels HORRIBLE once he checks back in on you and sees you burnt

- immediately takes you home, occasionally cussing under his breath on the way home for his lack of notice

- starts a cold shower for you

“i should’ve remembered,” he mutters under his breath as he turns shower knob, water immediately following afterwards. he’s been like this for the past ten minutes, constantly muttering something new that he should’ve done.

“ren, love, it’s okay. the burn isn’t even that bad, babe. besides, i should’ve been the one to remember, so stop blaming yourself.” you finally sighed out, voice soft as you tried to comfort him by rubbing his arm. he turned over to you, face still in a frown as he saw your reddened state.

“it’s my job to remember, but i’ll stop.” he let out a deep sigh, bending down to pull you into an embrace. one hand wrapped around your back to rest on your waist while the other rubbed your upper back. “go ahead and get in, i’ll join in a few.” he said after a moment of silence, placing a small kiss your shoulder before pulling away from your arms. you made sure to give his arm an extra squeeze, a reassurance that it was okay, before he walked off.

unedited thanks for reading!

[faffreux]

can you tell us about when you fell in love with fawful? :)

Yep. In fact, I'll write a whole mini essay for you so I can add it to the FAQ section of my website coming up shortly LMAO (SINCE I NEED TO FULLY ANSWER THIS QUESTION FOR THERE ANYWAY, RIGHT???) CLICK UNDER THE READ MORE TO SEE IT BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO BE THE LONGEST THING I'VE EVER POSTED HERE, LMAO.

To preface, I have been a fan of the M&L games going back to the early-mid 2000s when I was a kid. I had no involvement with fandom or anything of the sort back then but I used to hop on my mom's bulky computer and look up fanart and other related content as early as 2004/5 and as a result, ended up captivated by the characters long before I knew who they actually were. (As a result of this, I have the names and art styles of various old M&L fandom creators permanently ingrained in my head and often wonder where they are today since a good deal of them vanished..!) It wasn't until 2006 that I got my first handheld console (DS Lite) and of course, what did I do? Immediately begged my mom to order me a used GBA copy of Superstar Saga. 

When I finally had the game in my hands it was like coming home to a colorful world that I'd been captivated by for so long but never gotten the chance to actually explore until now. The characters felt like old friends and the Beanbean Kingdom as a location felt familiar and comforting to me. (As a side note, Popple quickly became my favorite. Shocker, right?)

I used to sketch various beans in my notebooks as well as on printer paper we had lying around the house. Long story short, I finished Superstar Saga and then a few years later in 2010 I picked up Bowser’s Inside Story and THAT’S WHEN THINGS SHIFTED–

BIS brought Fawful and his personality to life in a way that captivated my imagination like nothing else had prior. He quickly overtook Popple as my favorite character from then on forward… and that’s where it ends! Or.. is it?

Nah, that’s where it gets funky. Life got a little chaotic after that and not only did I stop playing video games altogether for many years, but I also almost completely gave up on art - the one thing I was most passionate about above all and thought I would make a career out of someday. A series of depressing events caused me to lose all hope and motivation for anything I created and the spark I’d kept inside of me for so long all but died out as a result.

We’re going to timeskip again, this time to late 2019. I’d just moved away from home permanently for the first time and had been getting settled in and no matter what I did to make my new apartment a cozy place it always felt like something was missing. My mind would keep wandering to the fact that I never made art anymore despite it having been such a key part of my life when I was younger. I so desperately wanted to change this and over the next few months the frustration only kept growing until on January 1st, 2020, I sat down in the living room with a pencil and paper in my hand and shut my eyes tightly before saying under my breath:

“I do not care what it is, I don’t care how it comes. Just please… PLEASE send me something to bring my art back. Anything… anything at all. I don’t care what I draw, I just want to be drawing again.” And with that, I placed the lead onto the paper and began to sketch…

And from there… a familiar face appeared!

(Now I could ramble to you about how much I do NOT like this drawing and how off model it is from how Fawful actually looks… but I’ll forgive myself since I hadn’t touched the M&L games in over a decade at this point and had forgotten most of Fawful’s character. And yet?? Here he was.)

How else can I explain it except that in that moment it felt like the pencil in my hand had suddenly become one of these:

A joy that I hadn’t felt in SO long suddenly filled my entire being and without wasting another second, I immediately went online and ordered both Superstar Saga and Bowser’s Inside Story to replay again. In the time waiting for the games to arrive I had started drawing daily again - sketching out various old characters of mine with dozens of doodles of the bean man stacked in between them all.

There he was… always smiling, always happy to see me, and oftentimes with his arms outstretched as if to give an encouraging hug. When the games arrived I worked through them quicker than I ever had prior - finishing up Superstar Saga in less than a week and subsequently moving onto Bowser’s Inside Story with a LOT of excitement built up for it. 

It was my first day playing and I was having the time of my life! The way Fawful looked in his little grey cloak with that enormous, charming grin of his as he bamboozled Bowser into eating the Vaccuum Shroom had me giggling with joy while words repeated in my brain over and over of: “I need to draw this later, I NEED to draw this later!!!” I WAS EXCITED ABOUT ART AGAIN… AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. I was practically hopping in my seat from the happiness I felt in my heart and chest every time Fawful appeared at this point!

This was how it felt until the moment I arrived at the Fawful Theatre and watched as he began dancing on the stage floor. THIS time.. something different came over me. If you’ve felt it before, then you’ll know what I mean when I say that it was like my entire body turned warm all at once, like some sort of flame had been lit inside. I’d never felt it for anything or anyone prior to then, and that's partly why it hit me as hard as it did. I was practically sweating.

Heck, I was so absorbed in my feelings that I had forgotten there was anyone else in the room with me! That is.. Until my roommate at the time spoke up: 

Her: Are you alright? Me: Uhhh… yeah, why? Her: You’re red as a beet. Are you sure you’re okay?

By this time I had realized what was really going on so I reassured her I was fine, grabbed my 3DS, and ran to my room to finish the playthrough on my own so I wouldn’t embarrass myself any further, hahaha.

In the days, weeks, and months following that moment I became dedicated to drawing the best art of Fawful I could possibly create! What started as a challenge to myself to ‘give back’ to the person who’d given me back the ability to create again turned into someone I genuinely could not stop drawing for how much fun I was having doing it. The desire to make better and better art in order to honor him drove me to improve at a speed I never had prior, and soon thereafter I created Jolligig as a way for me to be in this colorful world with him and to express the deepening affection I was feeling for him with every day that passed by.

By some miracle, my prayer had been answered and here it was in the form of a grinning lima bean.

[End of Part 1. Interested in the rest? Yes… there’s more, I’m sorry. Please let me know in the comments. This took a while to write so I thought splitting it up would be best if folks are interested, LOL.]

[vwritesaus]

TSC WIP snippets pt. 1

this is a RATHER LONG POST sorry so i will put everything under the cut :>

to @faithfromanewperspective:

      ‘Is this Adelaide?’ Thomas asks in a high voice, his tone coloured with surprise. ‘I see no churches at all…’       ‘It’s just… sand,’ Alastair mutters by way of agreement. …       ‘Apologies for the intrusion,’ Thomas begins, grinning shyly, ‘but I think we’re lost.’       ‘Lost!’ The man bursts out into crowing laughter and slaps Thomas on the shoulder. Alastair winces from the force of the action and the sound echoing in the chamber. ‘Let me guess—you were bound for Adelaide?’       Thomas blinks. ‘How did you—?’       ‘You’ll be amazed how many Shadowhunters end up here instead of Adelaide,’ the man tells him. ‘I swear, ever since those Portals became popular, our travelling system has gone to the dogs! You can’t go wrong with a horse and carriage, or just a horse, but no—you simply must travel by Portal now. Extremely unreliable, I say.’

to my four lovely anons:

1—       When Thomas peers into the box, whatever remaining confusion was on his face vanishes. He stares blankly at the inside, his fingers frozen in place against the corners, and Alastair feels part of his stomach drop.              ‘Alastair… what is this?’ Thomas asks softly.        Alastair is grateful to find no disappointment or annoyance imbued in his voice—and then immediately chastises himself for thinking something so ridiculous in the first place. This is Thomas, the man who took his heart and holds it like it's precious and worthy and wanted. The man who saw past all the nastiness, the cold front Alastair had put up for so many years, and continued to love him regardless.       The man who Alastair wants to spend the rest of his life with, no matter the odds. So he clears his throat slightly, shaking away the anxiety, and says, ‘It’s my ring, Tom,’ as though he is merely commenting on the weather.       ‘I can see that,’ Thomas replies. He lifts his gaze and sets it on Alastair, his eyes glimmering with an emotion Alastair can’t quite put his finger on. ‘Why is it in a box?’

2—       ‘Your father won’t bite him,’ Sophie tells him, a shadow of an amused smile on her face. ‘I imagine he merely wants to get to know him better.’       Thomas shifts in his seat and glances once more at the open doorway Gideon and Alastair have just walked through.       ‘I know,’ he murmurs, ‘and for that, I’m so glad. Only, Alastair… I know he’s feeling nervous.’       ‘Whatever for, love?’       Smiling furtively, Thomas looks at his mother and says, ‘He wants to make a good impression. He’s very conscious of his—how did he put it? “Prickly personality”.’

3—       Charlotte came into this marriage with the sole belief that he’ll fall in love with her in time. That no matter how long it took, she would see it through for the rest of their lives. Because she loves him, and love withstands the test of time no matter how hard a situation becomes.       Now… now, she’s not so sure.       Perhaps it’s time to realise that Henry will never love her.But she loves him. She can’t deny that, and she never could. She loves him, and she’ll live with that knowledge until she draws her last breath. But she doesn’t know how much longer she can keep her true feelings behind an alabaster mask of indifference, or hide her face in the pillow when Henry looks at her for too long, or press down the flutters her heart does whenever he does something silly, or makes a breakthrough with an experiment, or merely smiles at her.       And yet, perhaps all she can do is break her heart fully and accept that, like her position at the London Institute, her marriage to Henry isn’t something that can last forever. That perhaps love can’t withstand the test of time, after all.       That not even five years of being together could have Henry fall in love with her.

4—       ‘There’s no need to panic,’ Thomas says softly. ‘I’m right here, aren’t I? You’re safe.’       There’s a beat of silence after Alastair sucks in a shuddering breath, during which he stares at Thomas with wild, terrified eyes. Then an odd flutter crosses his face, his expressive eyebrows dipping dangerously close to the middle of his forehead.       ‘I’m—I’m safe?’ he splutters. ‘You think… you think—? Oh you… you stupid man.’       He grabs Thomas by the shoulders, not giving the man a chance to feel anything except confusion, and shakes him violently.       ‘It’s not myself I’m worried about,’ Alastair croaks out. ‘It’s you.’

to @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone:

      ‘The point I wish to make,’ Alastair interrupts, ‘is that during that picnic, Fairchild and I had a rather… frank conversation.’       ‘About?’       ‘As far as I recall, it had something to do with an autumnal masquerade ball up in Cambridge which promises to have formal attire, a range of posh sorts, and an abundance of alcohol.’       Thomas blinks in astonishment. ‘Cambridge?’ he echoes.       ‘Quite,’ Alastair says in a sombre tone, and Thomas laughs. ‘Yet… I suppose it would be a different venture than our usual nightly strolls and patrols.’       ‘It would,’ Thomas replies with a nod.       ‘And it would be rather dire to attend such an occasion without Fairchild’s opulent outfits and charming personality, but it does bring forth the opportunity to be alone with each other without the need to entertain a third party.’       ‘I wholeheartedly concur with that statement.’       Alastair is about to say something else, but stops himself. He instead purses his lips and narrows his eyes at Thomas. Thomas merely stares back expectantly, trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral. He knows what’s about to happen, and grins inwardly when, like clockwork, Alastair visibly withers.        ‘Are you really waiting for me to ask?’ he states in exasperation.       A large smile overtakes Thomas’s face at the question, and he leans in until their noses are mere inches apart. He relishes how Alastair’s eyes widen at the sudden proximity—always so full of surprise whenever Thomas does this—and quickly kisses him before he can protest or say anything.       ‘You refer to waiting for my beloved to ask me to attend a masquerade ball with him in Cambridge, correct?’ Thomas lowers his voice until it’s the softest whisper and says with utmost severity, ‘If so, then yes, I am.’

and last, but certainly not least, to @drunkonimagination:

      ‘Welcome home.’ Pulling back slightly, Thomas kisses Alastair’s curved mouth and presses their foreheads together. ‘Goodness—Raziel, have I missed you.’       There’s a soft snort, and long fingers brush over Thomas’s shoulders. Alastair’s voice is light as he says, ‘Last I checked, Thomas, I am not Raziel. Have I been gone so long that you mistake me for an archangel?’       ‘Yes, mi amor,’ Thomas replies playfully, ‘you’ve been gone far too long. You must remind me exactly who you are, and it must be done now. Before it is too late and I forget who you are completely.’       Alastair laughs loudly, and is still laughing when Thomas presses fast kisses all over his face.

also yes you read that correctly, it does say "pt. 1". pt. 2 will be posted sometime this weekend, and it'll be snippets from the remaining chapters of dear christopher and ch2 of timeless, so stay tuned if you're interested!!! :D

[salemoleander]

This was inspired ages ago by a post from @briseise about rebel leader Impulse gifting Bdubs a clock, and rather than edit it for the 15th time I'm just going to post it + beg forgiveness on the rougher bits.

(This also spawned fics from Ren and Scar's perspective, which I'll be adding to this post bc they're concurrent.)

‐-----------------------------------------------------

Ren lounges at the head of the Square Table, having just read the Perimeter Empire’s Declaration of Independence aloud. His laughter booms, and he thumbs through the booklet as one clawed foot taps a nervous tempo under the table.

“Well, my noble dudes, it looks like the goatman has finally made his move.”

To Ren's right, Bdubs shifts in his seat. He has nodded emphatically and smiled along with every rambling word the king has said throughout the meeting. 

He has absolutely not heard a word of it. 

Under the table and inside a mossy pocket and clutched in his hand, so very safe and hidden, is a clock. 

Earlier, Bdubs had walked into his quarters in the Crastle, and discovered a present boxed up and sitting on his bedside table. A small shulker box, dyed a beautiful mossy green and tied shut with golden wire. There hadn’t been a note, but a scrawled signature on the top of the box left no doubt that it was from Impulse.

When he’d opened it at first Bdubs had been… surprised? Not disappointed, not disappointed! That wouldn’t make sense at all, when his not-disappointment was that this clock was too beautiful, too delicate. It wouldn’t survive- 

He’s not sure what it wouldn’t survive. (He knows exactly what it wouldn’t survive.)

Its gold shines and it ticks perfectly, and he feels terrible keeping it hidden from light in his cloak. He holds it like a fragile creature in his palm, mechanical pulse keeping time with his own. 

A lull in the conversation draws his attention momentarily away from the barely-there feeling of each second ticking. Still, Bdubs doesn’t look up until someone kicks him under the table.

“Hey!” Bdubs yells, indignant. 

He looks up, and his outburst is immediately doused as he realizes that almost everyone was already looking at him. Ah, a helpful kick, then. 

Bdubs quickly appraises the table: Ren stares at him with an eyebrow raised. Cleo’s mouth is twitching in amusement, while Joe takes notes and draws geometric designs on his arm in the gaps of his lime green gloves. Scar, seated as far from the King as the table allows, is checking his communicator. (Bdubs tries not to be smug about that, then tries to decide which direction of that situation to even be smug about, and fails at both.) Iskall and Cub seem to be running a heavily modified version of Tic-Tac-Toe on a scrap of paper hidden from the King’s sight by the massive dragons-head hat. 

Circling back to Cleo, Bdubs assumes that’s where the helpful kick came from. Probably. (Scar has long legs, and Bdubs is never sure when he’s really distracted, or pretend-distracted. And Cleo and Joe are both prone to dubiously helpful shin kicking.)

Skin prickling at all the direct attention, Bdubs sighs loudly and sweeps one hand up in a half-hearted gesture of surrender. “Alright, you caught ol’ Bdubs sleeping with my eyes open! So what! I’ve been up late working on- on Royal builds, and quests, and I’ve been missing my Zs.”

Cub and Scar laugh, and Cleo smiles, and he relaxes his grip slightly on the clock.

He turns to his left, waggling his eyebrows at the King. Normally the flattery came quick and easy, but that was because it was real. Sure, he likes to play up his obsequiousness, earn some laughs, but at the end of the day he’s loyal. He’s loyal, except that loyal hands of the king don’t hide gifts from their number one enemy under the table. 

He sucks a breath between his teeth and tries to mimic his usual enthusiasm. 

“Your Majesty, o illustrious King Ren… What was the question?” And Bdubs thinks he’s done a pretty good job, until-

“I asked, actually,” Cleo says from their spot across the table. She’s toying with half of a broken arrow, spinning and idly twirling it between her green-tinged fingers. Bdubs has a sense of vertigo watching her do this, adoration and fear welling up in concert with each turn of the arrow. He feels like he’s falling, breath coming shorter as some internal process hits an unexpected barrier and goes flying in a new direction.

Cleo is terrifying. She’s immediately the most important person in the room. 

“Ah, of course, classic Bdubs mistake. What do you need?” He pauses for a moment, can’t resist tacking on- “Anything.” His heart sings, blood eager and ready to fall. Anything for the Crastle. 

“Careful, Bdubs, wouldn’t want to seem overeager.” Her voice holds a note of warning, honesty cleverly wrapped in mocking. Cleo was a master of saying exactly what they meant, but using such a sardonic tone about it that everyone assumed they were joking.

Bdubs nods, frantic, but it must come off as comedic because Cub chuckles. He knows it doesn't fool Cleo, though.

Cleo’s eyes stay on him, one eyebrow imperiously raised and one chilly ankle knocking against his in reassurance, well-hidden under the table. That ankle stays throughout her request, and his response, and a good half the meeting after that.

He doesn’t know when he stopped, but Bdubs isn’t holding the clock anymore. It’s still there, tucked into a pocket, but the idea of holding it right now makes him nauseous. 

[fizzigigsimmer]

Dragon!Shifter AU

I wrote a little in the tags on the OG post but I am still thinking about this so...

The way Billy arrived at the academy, swooping over the castle and roaring loud enough to shake the walls before he flew up towards the Grandmaster’s tower and disappeared into the clouds, there’s no way for anyone not to know who he is and what he is.

Steve’s very used to the way the student body can latch onto a person and OBSESS. You’d think, with their powers and their lineages that the students wouldn’t be effected by things like fan mania, but no, they’re just as impressed by pretty faces and showboating as ordinary humans are. Steve can’t go anywhere without his classmates stuffing the poems and ballads they’ve composed - praising his pale elfin good looks and comparing him to snowdrops, stars, and moonlight - under his pillow or in his satchel when he isn’t looking. And at least once a week someone actually gets up the courage to stand in the courtyard and sing. He’s been crowned King of Midsummer every year that he’s been old enough to attend the end of term festival reserved for the higher level students.

But from the minute Billy Hargrove saunters out of the Grandmaster’s quarters he’s all anyone can talk about. It’s so fucking annoying. His golden skin and sun streaked hair, his glittering blue eyes and the flames that (apparently) dance in them when he’s wielding magic (Steve wouldn’t know because he can’t stand the prick and the less time spent in his company the better) and the inked markings that decorate his back and shoulders that glow gold just before he shifts his shape.

Steve knows Billy’s markings intimately because he sees them three times a week during Champions practice, usually right after Hargrove strips naked and dives from the banks of Emerald Lake, changing shape in a burst of golden magic just so he can knock Steve and the rest of his teammates off their feet with a ten foot wave. And Billy does that shit on purpose, because he doesn’t have to be big as a house when he shifts.

Billy has a demi form, effectively no bigger than a kitten. Steve can hold most of his bendy lizard like body in the palm of his hand while Billy’s long serpentine tail coils around his wrist, warm despite the cool scales that line his body. No one knew dragons could go small like this. Well, correction, Steve supposes it makes a lot of sense now why humans call so many lizards dragons. Wingless, one scaly lizard thing scuttling around looks like another, and it turns out Dragons have been coming to the human world far more often than people think.

Steve discovers that Billy can go small after Flight Studies one day, which he’s endlessly thankful is not one of the classes he has to share with Hargrove. While some elves have strong enough magic and a sturdy enough connection to the fae realm that they can achieve winged flight, Steve remains as grounded and talentless in this area as they come. It’s enough of a sore spot as it is because his dad and all of his cousins fly. The last thing he wants to put up with is Hargrove giving him shit about it.

Steve comes back from class still wingless, but sweaty from all that straining to connect with Gia, and immediately heads to the room he shares with Tommy in the Blue Hall to change before supper. He doesn’t expect to find anything but shirts and tunics in his drawer, so he nearly shrieks the house down when he opens it to find a big lizard thing coiled up in a nest of his shirts.

Patrick, one of the selkies who shares the room next door, comes running in to see what the commotion is about just as the scaly creature raises its long neck, blue green scales glinting in the late afternoon sunlight and yellow eyes fixed on Steve as it opens its mouth and hisses. It has a small row of very sharp looking teeth and a very pink tongue.

Steve slams the drawer shut.

“Whoa! What was that?!“ Patrick demands, drawing closer, only to scurry back along with Steve as the drawer with the creature inside rattles violently.

“I have no idea. Probably another one of Munson’s freaky little pets.” Steve seethes, speaking of the boy from Black Hall who is infamous for his love of dark magical creatures, the more dangerous the better. The drawer rattles hard before suddenly popping open, and one very pissed lizard crawls its way out onto the top of the dresser. it twists its upper body until its head faces the two gaping boys. For a moment Steve admires the elegance of its long body and the dramatic spiny fins that raise from its back as it elongates itself, thinking that the strangely human expression of absolute grump that it wears on a decidedly lizard like face is unexpectedly funny... and then the creature opens its mouth and Steve and Patrick bolt with a yelp, scrambling for the door as a stream of electric blue flame erupts from the creature’s mouth.

The House Head thinks they are pulling a prank when they bring him back to deal with the beast, only to find the room completely creature free and no sign of anything burning. But Steve knows what he saw, and Patrick isn’t known for being a prankster so the Head promises to go over to Black Hall and have a talk with Munson. He advises the boys to keep their windows shut going forward, so nothing has an opportunity to crawl in.

It doesn’t work, because Steve doesn’t know it but the creature was actually a dragon shifter who also happens to live in Blue Hall, just one floor below. Steve doesn’t notice either that first time that one of his shirts is missing.

Long before Billy was ready to admit he liked Steve as a person, he liked the smell of his soap and his magic. Dragons are creatures of indulgence, so the things they like they take to horde. Steve never gets that shirt back or any of the other things Billy ends up claiming from Steve’s room. Not until Steve starts sleeping in his bed. But anything he brings back with him from Billy’s room, Billy just replaces with something else.

It’s expensive dating a dragon, is what he’s saying. The only solution is to cohabbitate.

 The First Part