#i dunno i was nervous about posting it

[c28hunter]

Okay I made it

And I'm proud of it

[bluesfreakingart]

I have a confession... The confession of "oh god I have a ship and I NEED TO MEME."

ANYWAY, SUGGESTIVE CONTENT UNDER READMORE Dw it's a stupid meme

[vanillaflowerstuff]

more characters from tma (click for better quality)

[part one]

[tunastime]

A Minute in the Morning

so I started playing pokemon legends arceus. crumples to the ground. (2762 words)

In a hazy, rusty morning light, Ingo wakes up.

It’s a slow start—like his office computer, taking a whole ten minutes to finish booting, enough to stir sugar into his morning coffee and dissect his breakfast sandwich into parts. It feels like it takes just about that much time for Ingo to become aware of where he’s lying, which is in bed. Which is not where he fell asleep to begin with, which means that someone lifted him to bed and tucked him in. Which was rather sweet. Because he’s burrowed into the covers like a happy drilbur, keeping the cold from his fingers and toes and nose. He finally blinks his eyes open, and it’s sunrise that fills his room. Not his room. Scratch that. Emmet’s room. No wonder the blankets are so much lighter than he remembers them being. Nevertheless. Happy drilbur. He weasels a little more into the pillow. From either side of him, something moves. It’s slight, if there, but as he cranes his neck, slow and careful, he can see a dark head of hair on one side, and silver-white on the other. 

Ingo’s heart swells a fraction too big and too warm for his chest as he sighs out.

Elesa and Emmet haven’t woken up yet, which is a plus. If he were to move too much and move them he might lose the warmth from either side. Elesa’s shoulder rests against the crest of his back, and Emmet’s holding onto his elbow with one hand. The grip is loose at best, but the warmth, both from shoulder to spine and hand to elbow, seeps through him.

It’s blurry. Just everything. It kind of mushes together in his brain, like jam. Or maybe jelly. It doesn’t really matter. If he thinks too hard, his stomach starts to twist in knots, and he’d rather not feel sick while he’s trying to enjoy his morning. He remembers falling asleep while the television played the night prior—nighttime skits and commercials he filtered out until Emmet’s shoulder became the comfiest thing. He supposes that sometime between that point, and the point which he’s just woken up, Elesa came in, and at some other point, he was carted off to bed. It’s nice, though. The blankets make just enough weight over him to soothe ache and anxiety, and it’s warm, and he’s mostly thinking about how nice a cup of coffee sounds right now. Maybe a latte. Something warm. He shuts his eyes again.

The light is surprisingly yellower when he wakes up again. There’s still a warm weight on both sides of him, but it feels different than before. It stretches over him, too, more than just the weighted blanket that’s been added on top of him. He peeks an eye open to find Eelektross slumped over him, his large head curled near Ingo’s shoulder and his similarly large eyes shut as he snores. Ingo snorts, trying to shift to his back with the weight over him, without waking Eelektross. He does after a moment, settling once again, only for Eelektross to huff and fix one, tired eye on his face. Ingo smiles, just a little.

Wriggling a hand free, he pats Eelektross’ forehead, a path well pet and well loved.

“Good morning, you gigantic eel.”

Eelektross trills, nuzzling into Ingo’s hand.

“Mm, yes,” Ingo says. “I’m sure that definitely did not alert Emmet that I am awake, meaning I can’t fake any more sleep. Thank you Eelektross.”

The eel gives a happy sniff.

Ingo snorts.

Typical.

The door cracks open a moment later, the wide eyes of his brother peeking through. He raises his eyebrows, looking over Ingo and Eelektross still in bed. It comes with a little head tilt, something Ingo knows is indicative of an Emmet with a question.

“Sleep well?” he asks. Ingo nods.

“I think so,” he says. “I didn’t realize I’d be carried to bed when I fell asleep.”

“Ah!” Emmet says, eyebrows raising. “I made sure you stayed asleep when we carried you in. You’re a very deep sleeper when you want to be.”

It’s getting better, the gaps in his memory. It’s not enough to trust himself to start his duties as a Subway Boss again, but it's enough to have a few doctor’s appointments and to speak with police and his boss and their coworkers. He’s remembered their pokemon, which is why Eelektross didn’t startle him. And he’s remembered enough for him to fall asleep on Emmet’s shoulder with no care in the world. Enough for life to begin to settle from the chaos. Today is Tuesday, which means Emmet has the day off, and Ingo can tell, even as he reaches to wipe sleep from his eyes, that Emmet is still in his pajamas. He opens the door a little wider, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Ah,” Ingo echoes. “Was it Elesa’s idea to sleep in your room rather than my own?”

“It was,” Emmet concedes, smiling. “But I am Emmet, and I make a very good pillow.”

“You are Emmet and you are a very clingy sleeper,” Ingo says, letting his eyes shut again. Emmet makes a startled noise.

“Go-Go, don’t fall asleep again,” he yaps. “Your breakfast will get cold.”

Slowly, Ingo opens one eye, looking at his brother in the doorway. Eelektross snuffs into his shoulder, wriggling off of him. He grunts as the eel’s weight shifts off, leaving him free, but cooler.

“What’s for breakfast?” he says, watching Eelektross wriggle off the bed and toward Emmet. Emmet opens the door a bit further, takes a step back, and hefts the eel into his arms, knees bending with the weight. Ingo watches Emmet giggle to himself, shifting Eelektross in his arms to better wrap around his neck and arms, weight heavy against him. Clearly.

“Pancakes,” Emmet huffs. He’s still smiling, something almost infectious.

“Alright,” Ingo sighs.

“I also cut some fruit.”

“I’m getting up,” Ingo grumbles, rolling onto his side before he peels himself up and into a sit.

“I think Elesa left her nice coffee creamer, also.”

“I’m already up, Em,” Ingo snorts, trying not to laugh. “You don’t have to convince me.”

Emmet laughs again.

“Just adding!” he says cheerily, wobbling off toward the living room. In the open doorway, Ingo can see the sprawl of their living room and kitchen, lit by yellow daylight. Ingo sighs, stretching his arms above his head, twisting around. When the room settles, he stands, and he realizes that the room is warm around him. Emmet must’ve turned the heat on, and it must actually be working. He hums as he combs his hair back, wandering into the bathroom to wash his face.

When he finally makes it to the kitchen table, Emmet is sitting at the table, scrolling on his x-transceiver. He’s changed into a cream-colored, high collared sweater, his hair held back with a small headband. Eelektross is lying across the couch, head resting on the arm. There’s a plate of pancakes sitting in front of Ingo’s seat at the table, and a half-eaten plate in front of Emmet. He looks up as Ingo sits, raising his eyebrows.

“Good morning,” Emmet says. He nudges a cup of coffee toward Ingo. It’s a light brown color—likely the way that Ingo likes it. It helps they like their plain coffee the same way. If it were any other type of coffee, Ingo’s certain there would be some big disagreement—type of milk and way of prep and iced versus hot. But Ingo takes a long sip of hot coffee and nearly sighs in relief. Whatever fancy creamer Elesa buys really does make a plain cup of coffee so much better. He sits, nudging Emmet with his foot under the table.

“What are you reading?” he asks, gesturing with his fork to Emmet’s phone. Emmet holds it up.

“Article on a new electric rail system in Galar.” 

Ingo tilts his head, nodding along.

“Interesting. Any good?”

“Very efficient,” Emmet says, nodding along. He eventually pulls back, setting his phone face down on the table and returning to his pancakes. He takes a large bite, and through it, says:

“Maybe Gear Station should get some upgrades.”

Ingo snorts.

“We’re already quite efficient,” he says. “Do you think our trains could be quicker? Easier to board?”

Emmet shrugs.

“Wishful thinking. They’re already automatically driven, so there isn’t much more, but maybe longer cars to hold more passengers. Our trains are quite small.”

“Sounds expensive,” Ingo says, drinking his coffee. He pulls apart his stack of pancakes, poking at them with his fork.

“Maybe they’ve already got an upgrade in the works,” Emmet says. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an all-staff meeting. Perhaps we should inform the director.”

“Especially since I’ve returned and have about three years to catch up on, mm?”

Emmet smiles. It’s a bit tight, though. Ingo glances away, biting into his tongue. Should’ve kept that thought to himself.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says. “Though I promise you that not much has changed in the last three years.”

Ingo hums. He believes it, that nothing much has shifted. It’s hard to say, obviously, considering he wasn’t there to see it for himself, but his brother was never the type to lie without a reason, and this certainly didn’t have a good one. He takes a large bite of pancake and finds them still warm. It’s a quiet breakfast, between pancakes and coffee and Galvantula sleeping underneath the table. Emmet eventually finishes his food, shoveling large bites of pancake into his mouth as quickly as he can. Ingo watches him swallow with surprising difficulty, reaching for his cup of coffee. It takes a moment for Ingo to stomach the rest of his pancakes. Having this much food is a luxury he had not often afforded a month prior. His stomach still wasn’t used to it.

“Where is Elesa?” Ingo asks after a beat. Emmet talks through a mouthful of pancake and strawberry and maple syrup. 

“Mm, she had four battle appointments today, but she’ll be back around. Probably before two.”

Emmet is the first to finish, setting all his dishes together as he stands. He moves around Ingo as Ingo finishes, collecting dishes and setting everything in the sink. As Ingo stands to pass him his plate, he asks:

“Did you have a plan today?

“Mm?” Emmet hums. “No, not particularly. Why? Is there something you wanted to do?”

Ingo frowns, face pulling.

“Well,” he starts. “I was thinking—”

“Ah,” Emmet interjects. “Your first mistake—”

“I was thinking,” Ingo continues, narrowing his eyes. “That it might be a good idea for us to visit Elesa. I need to ask her for a new coat.”

“Mm!” Emmet startles, turning toward him. His face brightens. “That’s right! You do need a new coat. Good thing she’ll be over later, mm?”

Ingo nods. He fetches his coffee mug, pouring another cup of black coffee to balance the sweetened dregs. He leans back against the counter right as Emmet goes to hand him a dish to put away. They work in tandem for a moment, pausing as Ingo works to finish his coffee.

It’s a slow morning, 8:45am, and Ingo gazes back at his bed with longing.

It’s just. When’s the last time he had such a good sleep, right? On a bed that soft? He’d gotten so used to tatami mats and the grass and canvas laid out on the ground and here was a bed, with thick fluffy blankets and several large pillows and another person taking up space. It was very—stop it, Ingo—it’s comfortable. He hands Emmet his coffee mug.

“Ingo,” Emmet says.

Ingo hums. His eyes have drifted to the couch. Maybe standing is a little hard today. He should sit, shouldn’t he?

“Is my brother still up there?” Emmet asks, tapping Ingo’s head. Ingo startles as he does, turning to him.

“I would hope so,” he says. “Otherwise I don’t know where I’d be.”

“Not here, obviously” Emmet says. He finishes rinsing Ingo’s mug, setting it top down on the drying mat. “Though I’m not entirely sure you’re all there right now, are you?”

“Trying,” Ingo hums. “Too much going on.”

Emmet hums, a bit of a laugh showing through.

“You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I won’t,” Ingo promises.

“I don’t believe you,” Emmet says, shutting off the sink. The clean dishes sit on the rack, dripping water. Emmet wipes his hands with a dish towel. “You know, you should be resting if your engine isn’t working at full capacity. Rest is very important”

“Can’t be a well oiled machine with nowhere to go,” Ingo says, folding his arms. “I don’t understand why I don’t have the energy to move anymore.”

“Does the why matter?” Emmet asks. He’s leaning against the counter now, a mirror to Ingo, like he often was to Emmet. It was a natural progression—one following after the other, a mirror, a shadow, a doppleganger.

“It matters a little,” Ingo shrugs. “It matters to me. It gives me a reason.”

“Your reason is that you’ve gone through a lot,” Emmet says, pushing away from the counter. He scoops up his x-transceiver from the table, moving around it and through the apartment as he talks. “Your reason is that your body is playing catch-up with the world around you.”

“Maybe,” Ingo huffs.

“I am Emmet,” says his brother. “I am tired. I don’t sleep well. Do you think it’s my fault that I’m tired and don’t sleep well?”

Ingo grits his teeth. He hates this part—ever since they were little, Emmet would flip this hypocritical card, showing Ingo exactly how stupid he was sounding. It was good, for the most part, because Emmet was right and next time Emmet did the same thing, Ingo could follow suit with that card. But it was so annoying watching it now, watching Emmet throw open the blinds and shimmy open the window for the fire escape. A tinged-cool spring breeze filters in through the open window, tossing the curtains aside. Emmet keeps moving as Ingo thinks, the gears in his head turning slowly, still dulled with sleep. 

“No,” Ingo says shortly, watching Emmet rearrange coasters on the coffee table, setting game controllers back into their docks. “I don’t think anything is your fault.”

“Well now you are just flattering me, Go-Go.”

“Don’t say that flattery never got anyone anywhere,” Ingo says, pointing at him, waving his finger. Emmet laughs.

“My point is,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “You’re allowed to rest. We can figure out the steps from there, right? Even if we’re sitting on the couch to do it.”

Ingo sighs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Even if I fall asleep?”

Emmet nods, still smiling a little.

“I will wake you if you do.”

Ingo huffs out a laugh, feeling the edges of his mouth quirk up. As Emmet sits on the soft, corduroy couch, Ingo feels himself pulled forward, as if recalled, to sit beside him. He brings his knees up as he settles into his familiar spot between the back and arm of the couch. 

“Do you promise you’ll shake me awake?” Ingo says, leaning his head against the back of the couch. Emmet scrunches his nose.

“Yes,” he says, knocking his knuckles into Ingo’s knee. “I do. But I’m going to watch Alakazam! so you can think without my talking.”

Ingo nods. The television hums to life quietly in the background.

Emmet always watches Alakazam! at 9am. At least, when he can catch it. Ingo watches the last few minutes of the previous game show, something quiet and low despite the flash of colors and excited spread of energy. As the show starts, he watches Emmet’s face shift, that serious pull to his mouth and the furrow of his eyebrows that Ingo only sees when they’re battling. To see that spark again, not knowing how long it’s been gone, turns a question in Ingo’s mind.

“Emmet,” he says.

“Yes, I am Emmet,” Emmet says. “You are Ingo. What do you need?”

“I think I've got an idea of what I want to do today.”

Emmet turns his head a bit, looking at Ingo mostly out of the corner of his eye. His eyes flick back and forth between Ingo’s face and the television, waiting for his program to start.

“Mm?” Emmet asks. Ingo smiles a bit, a laugh stuck behind his teeth.

He sees the glint in Emmet’s eye before he even asks his question.

“What about a pokemon battle?”

[wispscribbles]

New ghoap one-shot. Just a quick one, a bit silly - enjoy!

[raina-clipse423]

Cat Doki! (Pt. 1?)

(Monika Sayori and Yuri!)

I'm gonna make two color designs for all of them! The more realistic colors are gonna be for the Warrior cats au, which isn't that thought out too cuz it was just a fun idea I had, so for those interested, don't expect much ^_^"

Anywho, I present Cat Natsuki! She's a Pixie bob × Singapura cross, so she's smoll but stronk! Her Warrior name is Berryhope! I did my best to make it as close as possible to the etymology of her name, but many weren't sounding too smooth, so I just kept a half of it and chose another warrior name that fits her character! ^_^

(here's the warriors lore for those interested 👇🏽)

(I'll be including other hc stuff here like more clan roles and different names for some roles btw!)

She's a herb gatherer/general helper of the healer/s from ShadowClan. Outside the clan, she gets looks, whispers, and teases for her small stature. Has Shadowclan's territory been declining that badly? Aren't they treating their new kits well? But the other cats and apprentices look rather healthy–as Shadowclan cats can go–so is it only her?

She definitely gets tired explaining that it's genetics making her small, and some clan mates would go on to say she's stronger than she appears, being able to carry so many herbs on herself no matter where she got them.

BerryHope had a long interest in mixing herbs, especially when mixed with fresh kill, but not enough that she wanted to be a Healer for the clan as she's seen how stressful and just draining it can be, and she thinks being a Healers helper and gatherer is just as great. A lot of times she'd experiment with mixing herbs and fresh kill, but not really for their healing properties, but taste. It intrigued and confused a lot of cats, but in the end all were amazed at the taste of her crafts. It's the thing she's most proud of!

But to stick to the canon ddlc lore, her father won't be too great her either. He doesn't lay claw on her as he would in canon act 2 (cuz I think that lore is only on act 2, like Monika changed it? Correct me pls–) Her small stature greatly unsatisfied him, believing she's a runt and won't even survive one Leafbare. Her mother was a rouge and was a former Singapura Kittypet before she joined the clan and they met. BerryHope's father just wished none of their sires got her size and just his build and her beautiful pelt, so he looked down at BerryKit and pretty much just doesn't really pay her that mind.

Okay, that's all for the Warriors!Au with Natsuki, sorry if it wasn't much but hopefully it's enough food for some people out there ^_^

Lil note that the cat (not warriors) version is like a part of another au I have, but it's basically just them as magical cats and stuff. Natsuki is a winged cat, I was gonna post it too but it might be a too silly idea for many ^ ^""

[abastardworthknowing]

I was talking with @teacup-captor about Aziraphale in cute clothes and this really pretty person in a really pretty dress came up on my dashboard and I had to draw Azi in it 😭

[sharkgirldick]

Oh, yeah, I got a black jeans jacket recently. If anyone cares.

[silvquur]

old werewolf chris sketches

[ghoodles]

Whump month!! I tried to make it a sort of mix between both days 1 and 2 but i really just ended up focusing on the burn part of it so.. just day one! (thank you to @cirrus-ghoulette for making this!)

GHOST BC WHUMP MONTH DAY 1: BURNS

Characters featured: Sparrow (OC), with a mention of Dew

CWS: Burns, Blisters, Improper burn care, Improper wound care, Blood

Summary: Sparrow finally gets a chance to harness her fire.

Sparrow had never been one with magic.

She’d seen her family and peers use it as second nature, from making cool breezes in the pits of gluttony to warming a cauldron with their own hands in the cold nights that had followed the scorching hot days. She’d seen her friends hunt, an air ghoul removing the air from an animal’s lungs as a fire ghoulette swooped in to cook the flesh. And yet- her magic could not manifest. Close to barely grasp, but not enough to harness, to bring up to her fingertips or any form of her body, until she was pulled out into the cold, yet welcoming Earth. During her visits with the other ghouls, she’d learned about the instruments the Ministry had possessed; Items enchanted to give that small boost to allow the powers to flow out. From then on, he had begun to search for a guitar- the Element of fire, the one he couldn’t reach. In the cover of darkness, the ghoulette had snuck into Dew’s room.

And now, the Stratocaster was in her hands, the low light of the practice room making it harder to see- It’d be too risky to put the lights all the way on, after all. She’d pulled out a spare pick and tabs for a random song- Which one didn't matter, she just had to let the warmth out, to pull the fire out from the depths of her soul and harness it, like everyone else did.

Her hands slowly went to the strings, holding and playing over and over again, trying to engage with the embers deep in her chest, in her soul, in her being. She kept her hands steady, even when the heat had begun to rise up, her brown eyes lighting up in the process, leaning into it to bring it up further- just as the many, many people had told a younger her to do. 

The excitement was short-lived, the joy suddenly turning into pain, a scorching, burning pain as he felt a scream bubbling in his throat, keeping it down and instead trying to play more- maybe the more he played, the more he could control it, as the fire crackled its way through her veins and made its way onto her hands, the heat causing the strings to begin to melt through, snapping them string by string, the metal snapping against her soft hands and allowing for crimson to seep down, with painful licks of fire peeking out from the wounds as she tossed the Stratocaster away, her hands palms up with fire dancing its way up her arms- unable to stop the force even as she tried to pull away from the connection, her breathing quick and pained, stifling the pained exclamations as they tried to bubble up but she wouldn't dare whine or yell, this was her fault and her fault alone.

Maybe she should have tried air, she should have taken a synth or keytar or something other than this, but it was too late.

It took her fifteen minutes in order to calm the raging element down enough, the licks of fire against her forearms dissipating into discolored skin and small blisters that would most likely grow in the morning, but she couldn't care, leaving the discarded guitar as she stumbled back to her room in the dead of night, trying to not gain anyone's attention, even if nobody was there, she had to be sure. This was her own fault, she'd deal with it in the morning, maybe grab some burn creams out of the infirmary or something, but as her head hit the pillow it had all fell to black, as her body attempted to gain the energy to fix the mess she'd made.

Sparrow had woken up late to the sounds of banter outside her room, unable to understand, she groggily stood up, staring at the burns in the mirror, the blisters unsightly, the wounds on her hand a bit cauterized, but not enough to quit the bleeding, which it had done the night prior, leaving crimson stains on the bed. She pulled together an outfit as the conversations outside continued, a black t-shirt with stars on it, blue jeans, and a gray jacket, wincing as the fabric brushed against the burns, taking a couple of breaths as the pain rippled through the forearms. 

After it had become a bit more bearable, she went out to join the banter of the others, her wings occasionally twitching as the fabric had continued to rub against the burns.

It was her own fault, her own carelessness. She'd take care of it soon enough, maybe.

[seahydra]

Aaahhhhhh I forgot I have teeth extraction tomorrow. Hell world

[aimless-aimz]

goodnight sweet prince

[joyfuladorable]

Kinda wish I could mute posts on here, lol

Edit: okay, I actually can mute thank the GODSSSS

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

mmm i would,,, very much like someone (cough Foul Legacy cough) to pick me up and hug me and hold me close and let me just forget everything i worry about for a bit

yes. i’d like that very much 

[biohazard-inevitable]

I feel like I would really benefit from a cane, but I’m super nervous to get one. Really, I would only benefit from it on stairs and inclines since nowadays people dont put a lot of railings on stairs and even then I usually have to steady myself with one or both hands to go up and down them, but I can walk completely fine.

I know if I got one my parents would be like, “but you never needed a cane before! You dont need it!” When in the past, I have always struggled with stairs and even getting excited for rainy days cause then i’d be able to bring my umbrella to school that i would use as a cane.

I’m nervous about what other people will think and about being yelled at for “not actually needing one” and “taking reasources away from *actually* disabled people”

[wehavecometoanend--maybe]

i know my sister is reliable because she'll be the only one who'll go "did u lose weight?! girl, have u been not eating enough again?!" instead of "you lost weight? that looks good! :)" like everyone else who feels the need to comment