#might draw something self indulgent based on this

[12am-motivation]

Oh, to walk around a Christmas market in the human world with Solomon holding cups of hot chocolate with him occasionally warming us up in the cold... That's so adorable aaaaa <<3

[moonswolfie]

The HQ!! boys with their number 1 princess

I highly recommend listening to world is mine while reading!!

in case you couldn't tell this is based on the song world is mine (i'm sure my mutuals are sick of hearing me talk about this song atp lmaoooo)

Characters featured: Ushijima, Kageyama, Kenma, Oikawa, Kita

𖦹:･ﾟUshijima Wakatoshi

"Well, are you gonna say anything or not?!" your sudden outburst surprised Wakatoshi.

"Was I supposed to say something?" he asked, almost used to you getting angry for seemingly no reason at this point.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "You didn't even notice, did you?!"

"Notice what?" he asked, clearly confused. He simply wanted to know the reason you're angry with him and how he can fix it. He thinks you look much better when smiling, after all.

"You idiot! I got my hair done! I was flipping my hair at you all day and you didn't even acknowledge it!" you turned away from him, hmphing.

"Oh. I did notice the hair." he stated simply.

"Well then say something about it!"

𖦹:･ﾟKageyama Tobio

"Hey, let's- what is that?" Kageyama stopped mid sentence when noticing the drawing in your notebook.

You closed it at light speed.

"Hey! Don't look at things you're not supposed to!" you scolded him, clutching the notebook in your hold.

What Kageyama just got a glance at was your self-indulgent drawing of him as a prince kissing your hand.

"It was wide open for everyone to see!" Kageyama defended himself, clenching his fist.

"Whatever, just- you didn't see anything, okay?" you swatted his chest lightly with your hand.

"Wait, that kind of looked like you-"

"You didn't see anything, okay?"

𖦹:･ﾟKozume Kenma

"Get me pudding. That's an order." you crossed your arms, plopping down on the bench.

His very fortunately colored hair left you with a little craving.

Kenma sighed, going back to walk into the store. How in the world does he always end up complying to your demands, anyways?

After he bought the pudding, he brought it back to you, who was still pouting and sitting on the bench with your legs crossed. When you noticed him and the pudding in his hands, your face lit up.

"Thank you!!˜" you smiled cheerily, snatching the pudding out of his hands.

Oh, now he knows why. That sweet smile is far too addicting.

𖦹:･ﾟOikawa Tooru

"Hey! Look at me, will you?!" you kicked Oikawa with your pretty pair of heels.

You went to hang out and he barely even looked at your cute outfit. This is absolutely criminal.

"Owww, stop that, will you?!" he complained, mumbling about how he can't catch a break from being abused. How does he always end up with friends who hit him, anyways?

"Fine, fine, I'll look." he rubbed his back, finally looking you up and down.

"You look..."

"I look...?"

"Pretty okay, I guess?" Oikawa winked, shrugging, as if he didn't just experience ten consecutive heart attacks from how cute you looked in that dress. Internally, of course.

"You little- Ugh!" you swung at him again.

𖦹:･ﾟKita Shinsuke

You walked away from Kita, who was busy with something else. If he isn't going to pay attention to you, you might as well go pet that cat across the street.

Ohh, it looks so cute and fluffy. You're ready to pounce.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being embraced from behind, flinching and turning your head back to see Kita.

"Uhhhh?!" you stammered out, completely flustered. What in the world?! He's actually hugging you right now! Could this mean...

"You almost ran into that person. Be more careful." he explained simply, letting you go and turning back to whatever he was doing.

Suddenly you're worried about your walking abilities with how much your legs are shaking.

[pinkglitterygelpen]

crows

summary, crows are known to gift small trinkets they find on their travels to those who have been kind to them, much like daryl always keeping an eye out for things he thinks you’ll like. (1.6k)

dear reader, happy birthday normi !!! this is based off that moment in season 4 where daryl picks up that jasper stone and stares at it for the rest of the episode, like the thoughtful and sensitive cutie he is. this is quite long and wordy and sadly self indulgent lol.

before the world ended, the concept of owning things was different. some people wanted to own the earth, other people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all. we owned things by paying for them with money, to be insured that it rightfully belonged to us. that, with most other civil systems, died a sudden and complete death.

that’s changed, whether it’s easier or even more difficult now is up for debate. most things we would classify as our own are things we need, things we’ve taken from the relics of a family home or abandoned store. it was painful for a while, scavenging felt dirty and disrespectful, like we’re tearing apart any remnants of the people who died so that we don’t have to. but, now, it’s been over a year and it’s more rationalised, it’s something we need to do to survive.

some people thought the forgotten world had become a grave yard, but you saw it like a museum. even though most people had disappeared, their belongings immortalised them, a simple symbol of the life they once lived. knowing you might be the last person on this earth to take notice of the wedding photos and framed certificates made you feel a sort of comfort, acknowledging their existence maybe meant they could acknowledge yours and understand you’re only picking them apart to live on for the people that weren’t that lucky.

you’d accumulated a small collection of memories that didn’t belong to you, lockets and city magnets you knew where once treasured by someone else, too precious to be left abandoned. they rested in a beige shoe box in your cell. no one really knew about it, except for daryl.

not only was he the one you went on runs with, so he’d seen you picking up the small memorabilia; he also found himself in your cell quite frequently, nosing around. he’d never admit but he was always seeking out your comfort, when he couldn’t be with you he’d surround himself with you. reading your books, cleaning your guns, laying on your bed.

a while ago you came back from a quick job with carol to find him hunched over your makeshift dresser, carefully lifting thing out the box to look at them in the light. you didn’t try and explain it to him because you knew you didn’t have to, he might not have completely understood why you kept what he thought was junk but he didn’t mind to. you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek between his shoulders; he thinks it’s beautiful, how much love you have for everything.

“makes me sad.” he speaks low, only for you. holding what looks like it could’ve been an engagement ring you found in a nightstand next to a bed containing the corpse of a woman.

“doesn’t have to.” lifting your head to place your chin on his shoulder, getting a better look what he’s holding. he turns his head, lips almost touching your cheek, waiting for you to continue.

“you don’t have to see it as love that’s been lost, it’s proof of love after loss.” there’s a beat of silence before he places the ring back in the box and turns in your arms, holding your head to his chest.

“that’s nice.” you don’t see his face and he doesn’t say anything else, you don’t know what he’s feeling but you never have to with daryl. he’s not good with words but he lets you know in other ways, the things you need to know.

the next day he went on a run with some of the men to clear out a small cottage they’d came across deep in the trees. shuffling through cabinets and draws to find any supplies worth lugging back to prison, daryl found a small porcelain bunny, something a grandma would keep. only around four inches tall with minimal detail and a blue floral pattern on its back. after making sure no wandering eyes had found him, he secured it safely in the front pocket of his trousers to give to you when he got back. as always, he found you tentatively lingering near the gates for his arrival and he felt a spark go right through his heart. when he held your hand in his and placed the token of affection in your palm, there was no telling who was happier. you understood that him thinking about you even when he was supposed be working and remembering your little quirks was his way of showing love. he understood that he’d steal a thousand small bunnies to make you happy.

from that point on, he was never not looking for things to bring to you. he was particular about if the nick knacks where good enough sometimes, other times he’d bring you actual stones he thought where coolly shaped or extra smooth. every once in a while, when he was feeling particularly emotional or you’d been extra close, he’d be super sentimental. coming up with stories for them or attaching a specific symbolism. like today, he found a jasper stone.

as soon as the pretty green chip of rock caught his eye he reached to the ground to pick it up. whipping the dirt off with the pads of his fingers, being conscious of his strength he so often disregarded as to not damage it. he heard michonne huff out a sarcastic comment and gave a half-assed response but really he wasn't focused on any conversation. too busy thinking about what it meant, he never had time for the spiritual and cooky phases others went through but he knew people used believe these kind of rocks had meaning. he had no idea where to start with it but he was sure you probably did. it was a long day of work, he would so much rather be in his home with you, he must have pulled the rock out of his pocket thirty times to think about what you'd have to say about it when he showed you.

"hey." he greeted you simply after watching you from behind for a few seconds, folding clothes at the laundry station.

"hey. how was it?" you reply with a smile, trying not to reveal the anxiety that you felt for him every time he was away from you and outside the walls, failing by giving into your initial instinct to grabs his cheeks and inspect him for any injuries. he soothes your hearts aches with one kiss your palm and small smile.

"'m fine." he waits a pause to take you in before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rock. "look what i found." he watches your face light up immediately when you see it, what he's anticipated all day. "i think its jasper. definitely real though, found it in the dirt, near some water. there's probably more, i could always look." most of what he says sounds like a question, getting shy only because he wants you like his small gift. you look up from inspecting the stone to catch his eyes, leaning in for a short but rich kiss. "if you'd like."

"thank you." he nods awkwardly, head down to conceal his growing smile. "well, its definitely jasper." you hold the stone to his temple, he just stares into your eyes as you compare your thoughts. "matches your eyes."

shying away even more now, reaching up to rub his palm over his face, unable to accept the simple yet bold flattery. "don't do that." he grumbles out the statement in an effort to avoid the all too familiar distaste any praise causes him, years of abuse and neglect conditioning him to believe he doesn't deserve it. you see it written all over his face and it causes a crack through our heart, using the back of the hands holding the stone to brush his cheek, you wont stop loving him until he believes it.

"this's very thoughtful of you, ill find a good place for it." you wrap your arms around his neck, elbows on his shoulders, chest to his, undoubtedly a nosy pair of eyes watching from somewhere close by. you kiss his cheek like you've done a thousand times before, lips placing a protective layer over his precious skin and delicate soul. he wants to give into you so bad, lay his head over your heart and let you bury him in your arms forever, but he's just not there yet. he hopes that somehow you understand what he's telling you through all his efforts to find nice things for you. he doesn't know it, but you do.

he leans back from your embrace, just far enough to look into your eyes but still bask in your warmth. "do you know what it means?", almost embarrassed of his statement he speaks quietly.

"i remember my grandmother hanging a jasper stone she'd bought in the shape of a heart over my bedroom door when i was a teenager, 'said it would give me strength through changes and new beginnings, she had loads." its silent for a few seconds, the sounds of the prison fill in the blanks. carl kicking up a fuss about something, rick telling him off, carol bashing pots and pans around as she cleans, glen stomping on the gravel. its a welcome moment of peace, everyone can only hope lasts till tommorow.

"i like that." the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. his hands coming to rest on your back, rubbing up and down as he takes in his environment. "maybe we hang this over the door to the cell?" he looks at you expectantly, you smile back at him and nod your head. leading each other to the block holding hands, the little rock safely between them.

the world is surely lacking in its comforts, you're one of the lucky ones to have still be able to love. wherever he goes, whatever he sees, he'll remember that and carry it with him. his tiny trinkets he brings home to you carry an amount of affection no one can bother to measure, its beautiful and its yours.

[kociamieta]

do you have any character design tips. i’ve always loved character designs but lately i’ve felt like they’ve been lacking interest and life. what are your processes for designing a a character? they always look so lovely and get me intrigued into their story by design alone! love your work so much <33

ahh i wish i had some sort of clear, empirical answer for this!!! i think a big part of it is building up your visual library and finding the things you enjoy drawing (or just seeing in characters).

the closest thing to a process i could think of for myself would be finding something to base the character on - a phrase describing them, or some traits i'd like them to have, or an object/symbol/anything to incorporate in the design.

it's basically a game of association to me. i want someone who's x or y, what could that look like? what would happen if i combined these two together, and so on.

i find that i have the most fun (and enjoy the results the most) when i just let myself be self indulgent, haha. pick a couple of things i enjoy and play with them without overthinking. the angels and star people etc are pretty much just that:

having characters in the same setting allows for some pretty interesting things, too. you have a set of rules to mess around with, other characters to contrast (or not) with another [i think this is why creating fan characters is fun - the rules of a world are already set, now you get to experiment!!].

so, for the example above - all the star people are overdressed, but i wanted to try out something more laid back than a gown or ornate armor. this person still has the same elements the previous two do, just in a different configuration

of course, it's good to draw things outside of your comfort zone, but sometimes focusing on what's fun to you can be a nice source of inspiration. the familiarity makes the whole process easier, and who knows, you might get something new out of it

[winchesterandpie]

Done waiting

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word Count: 1621

Warnings: Very self-indulgent, major insecurities, lots of fluff/comfort

A/N: I really appreciate the support on the other Rooster fics I've been posting--you guys are making it fun to post! This is based on a post that tumblr won't let me link, though I think it was originally intended to have a more goofy tone, so my apologies. Nonetheless, I enjoyed writing it! Without further ado, here you go!

You had been best friends with Rooster since you met in the Top Gun program. Somewhere along the line, you’d fallen in love with him. If you were someone else, you might have told him. However, you were well aware that he couldn’t feel the same, so you never said anything.

It was easier to ignore after Top Gun, when you were both on distant assignments and only able to text or call occasionally. Now, summoned back to Top Gun, for a mission they wouldn’t tell you about until you arrived, you were terrified. For yourself, sure, but also for Rooster. The fear for him was what had your feelings threatening to bubble over.

You needed to get it under control tonight, before the training started. Unfortunately, Rooster was making that difficult.

“Hey, are you okay, Hawk?” The man himself nudged your shoulder, snapping you back to awareness

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.” You flashed a tight smile before taking a swig of your drink.

“‘Bout what?”

“They’ve called us all back here. It’s gotta be something serious, I just can’t figure out what.”

“I’m sure they’ll tell us tomorrow. No sense in worrying just yet.”

“Who said I was worried, Roose?”

“Please, I know you. Your eyebrows draw together here,” he said, lifting his hand to touch the spot between them, “and they lift just a little.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?” you chuckled.

“Just to me.” Rooster’s half-smile matched yours. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk. We can catch up.”

“So, how was overseas? Meet anyone special?” you asked once you were out of the Hard Deck.

He laughed, leaning into you to stay upright. “No, no, nothing like that.”

“Oh, I find that hard to believe, big guy. They weren’t swooning over your every flex?” you teased.

“I’ll have you know I don’t just go around flexing.”

“Mmhmm, whatever you say.”

“What about you, then?” Rooster grinned, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What about me?”

“Meet anybody lately?”

“Nah, that was never my thing.” You brushed it off, dropping your gaze. You hadn’t had anyone interested in you before, and you weren’t going to start moping about it now. Certainly you weren’t planning to tell Bradley anything about it. Instead, you turned it back to him once again. “Really? No crushes, no dates, nothing?”

“Well, I…” It was his time to duck his head, catching your attention. “Not--”

“Uh uh, what was that?”

“What was what?” He turned toward you, stopping in the sand.

“You hesitated! There’s definitely someone.” Despite your teasing, his clear interest in someone hit you like a punch in the gut.

“Who said there was someone?” he deflected.

“Please, I know you,” you parroted his words from earlier.

“Fine, alright,” he admitted with a sigh. “There is someone I like.”

“Ooh, and the whole Navy is full of broken hearts for it.” Your heart was among them. “When did that start? Have you said anything to them?”

“I’ve been dropping the most insanely obvious hints for a few years now.” He started walking again, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly before he spoke again. “No response from her.”

“Ok, but what you think is obvious isn’t always actually obvious. You’re sure she would pick up on it?” Quietly, you told yourself that Rooster was your best friend. If this was how he would be happy, you resigned yourself to helping him win over his mystery crush.

“Phoenix said she could see it from a mile away.”

“You told Phoenix before me?” That stung.

“No, she saw it happen. Came up to me to tease me afterward.” It stung less, but the ache in your chest didn’t lessen with it.

“She sounds a little stupid, no offense.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, not stupid. She’s quite smart, actually. Just a bit dense.” 

The undeniable fondness in his voice hurt. You had never been under any illusion that he would be interested in you. Bradley was so far out of your league in every way that mattered. Given time, you knew you would get better at acting. Perhaps you would even get past your feelings for him.

“Maybe you just need to be more obvious?” you suggested.

“How would I do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe just say it to her. Maybe ‘Hey, I love you,’ or something like that.”

“Not a bad idea,” he acknowledged before turning to address you by your name. Your real name, not your callsign. “Hey, I love you.”

“Exactly like that.” You swallowed the hurt of knowing he wouldn’t ever mean that about you no matter how much you wished he would. “Now just tell it to her. And let me know how it goes.” You bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Wow.”

“And y’know, if she still doesn’t get it, she’s too dumb for you, Roose.”

He said your name again.

You wished he would stop. Stop making you melt with just his voice. Stop making you feel things you knew better than to feel. Stop making you wonder if he might just reciprocate. Stop making you wish for what might be.

“What?”

“Do you really not know?” he asked, his face scrunching in confusion.

“Know what? You’re not making any sense.”

“Hawk, it’s you. I love you.”

You laughed incredulously and something like anger grew in his face. Still, you shook your head as you started off down the beach again. “No, no you don’t.”

He stood there for a second, stunned, before jogging after you. “What the hell do you mean I don’t?”

“I mean you don’t love me. You can’t…” You cut yourself off, trying not to cry. “You can’t love me.” 

The anger in his face creased into concern when he heard the sob you choked off. His arms opened, reaching for you. You went to him without hesitation, wrapping your arms around him as you tried to force your shoulders not to shake. His hand held the back of your head, keeping you secure against him. Bradley’s breathing was deep and even, something you used to slow your own gasping breaths. He held you for a long minute, even after you calmed.

“Why can’t I love you?” he asked quietly.

“Why would anyone?” you returned his question with another. “Especially you. You’re… everything--brilliant, talented, funny, gorgeous, kind, everything--and I… I’m just me. You could have anyone you wanted and I just don’t see how you could want me.”

He squeezed you tighter for a minute before he pulled back to look at you. You avoided his gaze, still sniffling a little. His hand moved to your chin, gently encouraging you to lift your head. After a moment, you did, bringing your eyes to his briefly.

“Sweetheart, I--”

You cut him off with a hand over his mouth. “If you’re going to keep talking, I want you to be sure you mean it. I had a guy ask me out as a joke once and I don’t think I could handle it if you did that to me too.”

Bradley took hold of your wrist, moving your hand so it rested over his heart. “I promise you, I would never do that.” He waited for you to nod before he continued. “I do love you. I have since you gave me that old record.”

“Really? That was all the way back when we were in Top Gun.” When you chuckled weakly, his lips tilted up into a half-smile.

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to work up to asking you out since then. Better late than never, I guess.”

“Technically, you still haven’t.” You might have winked at him if you didn’t still feel raw. As it was, you managed a teasing tone that broadened his grin.

“You’re absolutely right. Allow me to rectify that mistake.” Bradley tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear. This time when he said your name, delicious shivers ran down your spine. “Let me take you on a date?”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”  You felt warm as he looked at you in the moonlight. Perhaps it was the reflection of that light that seemed to glow in his eyes that made you braver. “I love you too, Bradley.”

“Yeah?” Shyness colored his tone--a rarity for him.

“Since you found me that time on the beach. You know which one.” You smiled, watching his hazel eyes. “I… I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I understand,” he reassured immediately. “I wish you knew how amazing you are, but until then, can you trust me to believe it for both of us?”

“There’s no one on this earth I trust more than you,” you said, your gaze turning a little uncertain after a moment. “You might have to remind me once in a while, though.”

He pulled you back into his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leaning his cheek there. “I’ll remind you as often as you need for as long as you let me.”

You were fighting tears again, this time wondering how you had possibly gotten so lucky. Bradley didn’t say anything, just held you close. He let you be the one to pull back, and you tucked yourself into his side for the walk back to his car.

“So, about that date,” you started, grinning up at him. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, I was thinking we could make dinner, get ice cream, the whole nine yards.”

“When are you gonna pick me up, sunshine?”

“Same as always, sweetheart,” he squeezed you closer by the shoulders, kissing your forehead. “6 sharp from the locker room after whatever their training is tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

[kerubimcrepin]

Crepinlore and the 30-50 random games 90% of fandom has never heard about

This post, like everything else about this blog, is very self-indulgent. I discovered many things, during its making. I shall begin with something you likely have literally never heard about, and go to more popular things from there:

KROSMASTER ARENA 3D

Krosmaster arena online was a video game it seems nobody played, and honestly, I am mentioning it here because I fear that if I don't document it, it will disappear, and it will turn out that it was simply a vision I had, as if in a David Lynch movie. Evaporating, like tears in rain.

I don't think anyone ripped/tried to rip/found a way to rip the models from it — and considering the fact they're pretty... mobile ad-core, not much may have been lost.

Anyway, here's Keke beating the shit out of some guy.

Wakfu Les Gardiens

Joris appears in the quest "The Tree of Life" of this game, which, as far as I'm aware, was updated in time with Wakfu episodes.

Even back then, Ankama knew that 1. Joris is very sus and 2. you cannot let him get close to you during a battle, or it's OVER.

It's all very cute.

There is some interesting I have to say about this sprite, actually!

An alternate version of it exists, made as a concept for the Dofus MMO. I am assuming it was Juien Druant elaborating on the ways Joris might look in the game. The first two designs are: baby Joris (probably not used because he looks too young to be a 200 year old man...) and Welsh & Shedar 60yo Joris. They were combined to make the iconic Dofus MMO-era 200yo Joris design.

I'm quite sure that this sprite references the Les Gardiens one very heavily.

One More Gate: A Wakfu Legend

The first game in this list that actually has implications for real lore, and yet its plot is literally "it was all a dream that Oropo was having while inside the Eliacube"

For this reason, the events of this game are not entirely reliable — but are probably based in some way on the memories Oropo has.

The main contribution this game has to Crepinlore is a third Crepin, who might be an ancient ancestor of the brothers, whom Oropo met and remembered, some sort of cousin, or he might be based entirely on fiction, and inspired by Kerubim (though ehhh I severely doubt Oropo would care so much about him that he'd hallucinate a guy like him within Eliacube's fake world).

I really want to headcanon that the events of the game are based on something he really experienced, waaay before forming the brotherhood. But that's just my brain disaeses.

Here we can see the store itself.

Krosmaga

I saved the best for the last — Krosmaga.

A video of the casts of Dofus and Wakfu beating the shit out of each other

There are characters besides Atcham, Joris, and Kerubim in this game — Julith, Jahash, Lou... But I choose to concentrate on my favorite three ones. Or I will die fr.

If this Ecaflip gives the impression of constantly having a bad hair day, it's precisely because he doesn't have any! Brother of Kerubim Crépin, Atcham is fiercely jealous of the man he considers his worst enemy. And how could he not be, when not only does he occupy the prestigious position of Ecaflip's favorite son, but also displays his dense, silky fur without any modesty or sensitivity?

Here are his three forms:

I'm.,. unwell about the white one. I have to draw Atcham in a Bontarian getup one of these days.

They're really giving a fight to this Joris costume recolor from a Christmas event in one of the MMOs... (Now I want to see Kerubim in red too!)

On topic of Joris,

Adopted son of Kerubim Crépin, Joris is a curious and mischievous little boy. His favorite pastime is listening to the childhood adventures of his beloved "Papycha". And when he's too busy serving customers in his antique store, he's off playing with his best friend Lilotte! An avid boufbowl player and fan of Khan Karkass, Joris also hopes to become a star of the horned ball. While his destiny may already be mapped out on the stadium pitch, his origins are much less clear… But the good thing about not knowing where you come from is that you can imagine anything! For the little boy, there's no doubt: his parents were great boufbowl players, and it doesn't matter if it's true or not!

Here are his alternative forms:

I LOVE THE WAY HIS ADULT SELF IS DRAWN IN THIS GAME... I'm insane.

And now, last but not least: Kerubim.

Judging by his adventures, Kerubim seems to have had more than 9 lives! From small-time opera rat, to Bontarian police officer, to lawyer: the least we can say is that during his youth, the man Joris calls his Papycha never stopped working! So much so that today, the owner of the antique store Aux Trésors de Kerubim takes advantage of his free time to purr quietly in his armchair, or to tell his adopted son about his past adventures. Past? Well, not quite! Because when the terrible witch Julith arrives to retrieve Jahash's Ivory Dofus, and seems intent on attacking Joris, the old tomcat doesn't hesitate to get in her way. With Kerubim, there's no age limit to being a hero!

Once again, it is confirmed that the store's name s literally "Aux Trésors de Kerubim". Sorry, I'm insane about the name of the show being the name of the store.

And his alternative forms:

He's beautiful.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Desperate to Decompress

Pairings: Weems x Reader (Platonic)

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: Reader needs some time for herself to gather her thoughts and hides herself away. When Ms Thornhill notices your absence she reports to Weems, who goes to investigate.

TW: depictions of neurodivergence (implied), overstimulation (implied), hiding, crying, disappearing, crying, flinching (is that a warning idk),

A/n Ok so before i get attacked for this, this is a self-indulgent fic because i often hide myself away when i feel like this (I have ADHD) so this is based off my experiences. Neurodivergance presents slightly differently for everyone. Im not saying this is the only way it can be, just this is how it is for me. Enjoy :)

It had been simply too long since you had had enough time by yourself to decompress. You loved Enid and Wednesday; they were mostly the best roommates you could ask for but sometimes you really just needed a break. Silence and a place with no people.

It felt as if you had been slowly had your brain being scrubbed with each social interaction, any more of it and you would snap. It had happened before; people were just too present and loud and the more you tried to keep going the more the annoyance grew. It wasn’t personal, it was simply you had enough of it all.

You simply needed space and time to decompress, but with a shared dorm and a school full of teenagers there weren’t really any places to hide away from everything. You just needed somewhere silent, devoid of people and preferable hidden where you could sit with your headphones in listening to whatever song you had been playing on repeat for the past few days and your sketchbook in your lap. A snack to eat and some juice maybe. The introvert in you was screaming for help and you knew if you stayed around people any longer your social battery was just about dead. And when it died so did all of yourself control, all of the annoyance and repressed anger would come out and nobody wanted that, not even you.

Class was dismissed and it was time for the fifth lesson of the day. Your head was feeling slightly buzzed and you knew you needed it all to stop as soon as humanly possible. So, whilst walking between classes you slipped into your dorm under the guise of retrieving your biology textbook for botany class which was starting soon. Once the hallways had drained of teenagers as they all funnelled into classrooms in small streams, you hoisted your backpack over one shoulder and snuck through the halls.

You found it never worked the way you needed it to if you told people where you were going, that way it felt like there was still something expected of you. No. You never told anyone where you went or when you left on trips like these and that wasn’t going to change now you were at nevermore. You needed to know you weren’t going to be bothered by someone. Complete isolation or complete meltdown. That’s the options.

As you finally made it to where you wanted to be you clicked twice and descended into the nightshades library. A few days ago, you had been expecting the impending need for a shutdown and hidden a small blanket, snacks and a lamp behind some of the books. Now it came time to use them you pulled out the supplies.

Gently you set out the blanket like one might have a picnic, the soft touch soothing and relaxing. You set down your backpack and kicked off your shoes. Popping in an earbud in each ear you pressed play and took out your pencils and sketchbook. The sigh you heaved was involuntary as the stress began to melt. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you felt the annoyance that had been growing over the past days begin to trickle away.

You threw yourself into your drawing needing something mindless but engaging to do. You sketched scenes that were stuck in your mind's eye from the past few days of the term. Enid’s colourfully painted nails. Wednesday's typewriter. You drew and sketched and felt your mind begging to unwind and detangle all of the twisted emotions from the days.

Meanwhile Ms Thornhill glared at your empty seat in her class.

“Ms Sinclair, do you happen to know where Ms L/n is thats more important than my class?” She asked a slight edge on her voice.

It wasn’t annoyance at you as much as the fact her favourite student was absent, and the school board had cut her budget once more deeming the carnivorous plants a non-essential item and a point of risk for students.

“Umm I’m not sure?” Enid said looking slightly confused. “She was with me in out last class.” She said. The botany teacher huffed in annoyance.

“Open your textbooks to page 348 and start taking notes on the phenotype selection of white budded roses.” She said and the sound of textbooks being haul from bags began. “Until i return i expect no funny business. One more broken pot and the whole class has detention next Thursday.” She said and stalked off to the principal's office.

Now she was out of the classes eyesight she quickened her pace. Her anger faded to worry. It was unlike you to simply disappear. Sure, you had only been at nevermore for a few weeks now, but the risk of you being lost or injured was never none. Standing in-front of the big wooden doors she shifted her weight from foot to foot and before she could knock the doors opened.

“Marilyn.” Principle weems said in surprise before she collected herself and stepped to the side. “Come in. What can i help you with.” She asked and the two women walked over to the couch. Weems patted the spot beside her, and Ms Thornhill perched herself next to the shapeshifter.

“I’ll make this brief as i have a class left in the biology classroom.” She began and Weems nodded. “It's Y/n.” She began before sighing.

“Whats the matter with her?” Weems asked placing a hand on her teacher's knee.

“She hasn’t shown up for the class and its unlike her to simply disappear without telling people where she went. Im worried Larissa. What if she’s lost or worse yet injured?” She said and weems patted her leg.

“Never you worry. I will find her and make sure she is dealt with straight away. If that’s all i recommend getting back to your class before all your flowers have been deadheaded.” Weems smiled.

“Yes. That’s probably best isn’t it.” Ms Thornhill agreed and nodded standing and shooting her thanks to the principle before exiting.

Now the teacher was gone weems stood and collected the keys from her desk and left her office. She began at your dorm. Knowing which one it was as she had visited many times to see Wednesday and reprimand her for her repeated behaviours. You had been there for some of it but never really said much other than things like ‘I’ll get out of your hair’ before leaving.

It's not that Weems disliked you or any of her students really, she was just very busy and was now realising maybe she should have payed some closer attention to you. This was your first boarding school and your file had stated you were … different. Incredibly smart and well put together but it did say you were sometimes prone to randomly disappearing. Weems suspected this would happen sooner or later although she hadn’t the faintest as to why you did what you did. Maybe she should have given more of her time to making sure you had adjusted and settled in alright.

She frowned looking into the empty dorm. Noting the backpack, she often saw you with was also gone along with one of the two blankets from your bed.

She scanned the room once more before turning and leaving to search elsewhere for you.

Time didn’t really matter to you when you were like this. You simply stayed wherever until you no longer felt the overwhelmingness of it all anymore. You couldn’t let others see you like this. Vulnerable. You were most vulnerable like this. You simply needed space. You had no clue how much time had passed, and the sketchbook’s pages were slowly being filled with intricate portraits and landscapes from the past few days.

After a while you had resorted to the photos on your phone for reference. You hummed quietly to the music which was probably why you didn’t hear the sound of high heels on the steps until they were in front of you.

Looking up you saw the unimpressed face of Principle weems looking down at you with her arms folder. Using a finger, she flicked the chord of your wired headphones to dislodge one of the earbuds. You flinched slightly at the movement so close to your face and the feeling of everything crushing you almost seemed to return. She had found you. She had found you before you had the time to find yourself. You could feel the tears begging to escape. You were exhausted emotionally and couldn’t take one more trial of your mentality.

You hadn’t really noticed weems lecturing you until she grabbed your bicep loosely to haul you up. You flinched violently this time, the touch almost seeming to burn. Weems demeanour switched almost immediately as she came to an understanding. She put her hands up in surrender and crouched in front of you, an impressive feat for someone in heels. You saw her lips moving but the sound still didn’t seem to be reaching your ears, or more rather, your brain.

After moment weems simply sat and folded her legs pretzel style and lent against the wall next to you. She had stopped talking seeing how it hadn’t really reached you at all.

She seemed to be taking a note from your book and simply resting. She laid her head against the cool stone and shut her eyes slightly. You two of you sat in silence for a bit as you twirled you pencil anxiously. After a minute you realised the tears on your cheeks were present and you brought up a fist and began to harshly scrub at your eyes. A soft hand caught your arm and this time the touch didn’t seem to burn as much. Weems guided your hands to her lap as she held them and ran the pad of her thumb over the back of your knuckles gently.

“Darling are you ready to talk?” She asked and when you didn’t respond she softened. “It's ok if you're not-“

“Im fine.” You said and pulled your hands from her grip. “I should probably head to class anyway.” You said and began putting your stuff in your backpack. You felt a hand in your shoulder and stilled.

“Darling, I’m not expecting you to do that right now. Your clearly in need of a break. How about instead of sitting down here in the dark and the cold you come join me in my office. I can make us some hot chocolates and we can talk or just sit in silence, whatever you need love.” She said you felt the tears gather once more on your waterline. Weems brushed a gentle thumb over your cheeks and wiped away the tears.

“Oh darling.” She said softly and opened her arms for a hug. You shuffled into her lap and she wrapped her arms around you holding you tightly. The pressure helped and she seemed to notice.

“If you would like i can order you a weighted blanket for when I’m not available.” She said softly and smiled at the nod she felt against her chest.

“Yes please.” You said in a small voice.

“Alright.” She whispered into your hair and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Let’s go get some hot chocolate when you're ready.” She said and you began to pull away. She held you closer. “That doesn’t have to be now if thats not what you need.” She said and you nodded again into the lapels of her blazer.

“Now darling. If you ever feel like this i want, you to come to me and we can sort something out for you. However, i must thank you for the exercise, being stuck behind a desk most days usually prevents me from a half hour fanatic search of the school grounds and she gently laud her chin on the top of your head as she felt you laugh slightly into her chest.

“I think I’m ready for that hot chocolate now.” You said softly. “If thats ok.” You added and she slowly unwrapped her arms from you.

“Anytime darling.” She said and helped you to your feet beating you to your backpack and putting it over her shoulder.

“I’d love to see your art sometime if you're ok with that. I love seeing my students' talents shine.” She said and you smiled softly and gently wiped your face to try and look less like you had been crying.

Weems wrapped your hand in hers and led you the short distance to her office. Once inside she set down your bag by the couch and told you to make yourself at home before disappearing into her private quarters and returned a minute later with two steaming mugs of her famous hot chocolate.

You sat in silence sipping the drinks before you set yours down and got ready to speak. The principle followed suit and placed down her own mug and dusted off invisible lint from her lap.

“It just … it all just gets too much sometimes. And i know i should tell someone but i feel like i just need to get out. Like one more second and I’ll snap.” You began and slowly all of the pent-up stress began to pour out into your words. Principle weems sat and listened wordlessly before you finally finished her hands where on your knees.

“I think it’s perfectly alright to be overwhelmed sometimes. And i have an idea. I find i myself often get trapped in my work and negate to listen to what i need. What I propose is…” she said pausing and folding her hands in her lap. “Anytime, and i mean anytime, day or night, you feel like this… you come find me and we take a break together.” She said and you smiled softly. “Do you think you can do that? Hmm save me from my work darling?” She asked with a small smile, and you nodded.

“I guess.” You said playing with your fingers.

“Good.” She nodded and you felt yourself relax further. “Now I’d like you to stay with me for the afternoon, i can see it in your eyes that your tired and i would like to offer you my space to relax. I can assure you it's much nicer than the floor of an older hidden library. Or at least i hope it is.” She joked and you chuckled softly.

“I’ll make us some food as I’m sure you missed lunch and then we can relax and maybe even take a look at your art. From what I’ve seen and been told in passing, you are quite the artist Ms L/n.” She smiled and you ducked your head embarrassed.

She smiled and went to retrieve some food for the two of you.

That afternoon you sat with the principle and snacked whilst she looked through your sketchbook sounding praises at your art and even asking for a commission for her office.

“I need some more colour in here.” She noted and you smiled. For once you decompressed but this time you weren’t alone. And you knew from now on you would have Larissa with you if you ever needed her.

MASTERLIST

[melodymelancholyart]

We’ve reached 100 followers, and of course here’s your reward lol

The Smosh Pony Celebration Post!🎉

I’m going to supply the Smosh pony art I made in middle school , more art of the “Smosh in Equin” mock au, and Smosh pony designs based on Ian and Anthony’s current appearances! My two hyper fixations merged into an abomination of god!💕 This post is a long one so I hope you all enjoy!

I’ve noticed that some of you guys aren’t familiar with Mlp lore I don’t blame you I’ll supply some terminology and definitions so we’re all on the same page. I’ll be focusing on the lore of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic which I’ll be shortening to MLPFIM for simplicity sake. I’ll only go over really basic lore so you don’t need to watch the show to understand this post.

Cutie Mark - that weird symbol on a pony’s ass. They signify that pony’s ‘special talent’ or a symbol that represents their identity. These special talents are usually an activity that comes natural to its owners. Some can get rather abstract in meaning and design while others might be obvious. For example, a pony good at drawing might have a pencil and paper as a cutie mark. This gets very existential the more you think about it

Equestria - the central setting of MLPFIM ruled by two princesses. It’s home to ponies, dragons, and a multitude of fantasy creatures.

Pony - Ponies exist as three main types; Earth Ponies (normal horse), Pegasus (horse with wings), and Unicorns (wizard horse).

Pegasus (lore) - Pegasi can fly and move/stand on clouds. They usually work in controlling the weather. The weather is weirdly manual in the MLPFIM universe I’m not getting into it

Unicorns - Horses with a horn that allow them to use magic! Mostly telekinesis unless the pony is has raw magical talent (ie. Twilight Sparkle).

Earth Ponies - Normal horses but agricultural makes bank so they aren’t complaining.

Alicorns - All three horse types in one er a Pegasus with a horn.

(Made in 2012)

I originally made a cringey Smosh pony ‘series’ in middle school. All your favorite characters are here! Looking back, this entire concept was just really self indulgent. I shipped myself with Anthony (gurl wtf you’re 12??? Of course she’s an alicorn too lol) and some of these characters. As embarrassing as this is, I remember getting my friends involved, and we all would bounce ideas off each other about plot and lore. Just a bunch of preteen artists meshing what they love in one big project.

That being said if my preteen horse sona did meet Ian and Anthony it would probably be like this:

Cynicism aside I decided to draw the old designs of Ian and Anthony for old times sake.

I have no clue why they’re wearing hoodies like an eddsworld character or why Anthony has the Smosh symbol as a cutie mark but Ian doesn’t.

Fast forward to fuckin last year I got the idea for the April Fools Smosh horse thing and my brain just ran with it. This entire 'au' is one big satire of my middle school concept.

Terms like ‘cutie mark’ and ‘Equestria’ are replaced with ‘soul brand’ and ‘Equin’ since it doesn’t actually take place in the MLP universe.

Minor spoilers: Sketch ver. Ian and Anthony fuckin die and are reincarnated as horses forgetting their past lives. They grew up and live as social outcasts unable to use magic/fly properly because they literally don’t belong there and the universe is actively rejecting them. They fight forces that look like biblically accurate angels because they’re celestial bodies trying to remove them from the universe (Ian and Anthony are only fighting them because they think the big wheels with eyes are keeping them there but it’s actually something else).

With that being said, art time!

That got me thinking about what Ian and Anthony would look like if they were in the mlp universe. Of course my brain took this concept and ran with it. I’d like to share what I came up with!

Stellar Prism (Anthony) and Golden Horizon (Ian)

• They got their cutie marks together at the same time as kids.

• Gold’s talent is radiating sun energy that makes everyone in a 10ft radius happy. He literally glows when he’s happy.

• Prism can focus on someone’s talent and magnify the magic energy from them. I used Anthony’s quote of being a magnifying glass as a jumping off point.

• They preform comedy shows together akin to a manzai routine where Prism is the straight man and Gold is the funny man. They’d travel Equestria preforming together.

• Just like real life, Prism split from Gold because he felt like he didn’t know who he was without Gold. His talent is showing other people’s potential but he wanted to discover his own. While split, Prism studied more “unpopular” forms of magic to rediscover himself. He basically went through the abyss but came out on the other side self content. His ‘tattoos’ are side effects from these magic experiments.

• During the split, Gold met other aspiring comedians (other Smosh members) and they all formed into a comedy troupe.

• When Gold reunited with Prism, he was so happy that he accidentally flashbanged Prism.

• Prism calls Gold “Duck” because he looks like a rubber duck.

• Gold is a pretty fast flyer. He can out-fly most members of the troupe.

That's all from me! Thank you guys again for 100 followers! I've never really used Tumblr and I'm very late to the game. I'm still thankful for all the support I received! <3

Don't come cryin to me if this post got you to draw horses lol

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Untitled Caine x GN!Reader oneshot because why not

EDIT: A more polished version of this is now on ao3!!

After writing something close to 20k words of Stereo Souls this week I needed a quick break, and came up with this while half asleep and feeling mopey. It's self-indulgent so if you find yourself thinking "He would not fucking say that" then yeah, you're probably right but eh, this isn't a Caine character study. 🤣

If I ever think of a title and edit this I might put this on ao3 cuz again whynot.

(Sidenote: Yes, the reader appearance is based on the TADC sona I designed for myself. At the time I referred to the sona with she/her pronouns because I didn't mean for it to be anything other than a drawing of my own sona. But I assure you this reader is gender neutral despite sharing a design with a she/her character.)

Word count: ~1700

You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been stuck in the Digital Circus. You think the time is best measured in months, not years, but Jax has suggested otherwise a couple times. But you can’t always tell when Jax is lying to upset you, or telling the truth to upset you.

You try not to be upset at all.

Easier said than done in this place, most of the time.

Caine makes it easier, though you seem to be in the minority with that opinion. His games can be irritating sometimes, but you sense he is trying to make them fun…and the banquets and parties he throws for you and your cohorts afterwards are usually nice.

You think he’s improving, but every time you mention that possibility Jax lets out a cough that usually sounds suspiciously like “Stockholm”. 

It is after such a party you’ve slipped out of the tent to wander the grounds on your own for a bit. The sun has gone away for now. You don’t think describing it as having “set” is accurate, but in any case, the grounds are bathed in the bluish glow of nighttime. The moon herself seems to have dozed off in her perch among the chalk stars, so she pays you no mind.

Like the other humans (or perhaps former humans) here, you were given a new form when you arrived. From a distance, you could be mistaken as one of the more humanoid characters, but up close that illusion falls apart. You’re essentially an animated pile of clothing. A hoodie, with the always up hood serving as your head and cartoony, ever malleable and expressive pair of thick glasses serving as your eyes. Your legs are a pair of jeans, the bottoms of which rest on the ground like a floppy pair of feet.

When you’d first caught a glimpse of yourself in a mirror, you’d thought you were invisible…but there’s no invisible body beneath your garments--the garments are you. 

You don’t remember your past life--nobody here does. But you know bits of it, and you feel like in some ways you know yourself. Somehow the idea of you being invisible, faceless, nondescript and barely noticeable feels…Well, it feels like a predictable outcome in many ways. As much as predictable outcomes exist in the Digital Circus, anyway.

The others all seem to have something pulling them back to the human world, even if they don’t always know what it is. Jax less so, and Kinger seems to forget the pull just as much you’ve all forgotten what’s pulling you, but it’s there all the same.

Less so for you though.

You just can’t help but feel…you don’t have much to go back to.

Your moping is interrupted--as it often is--but the sudden appearance of two large eyes immediately in front of you. Green and blue.

“Hello there! I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” Caine says, floating back a pace so his eyes aren’t dominating your visual field.

“Oh, uh, hi Caine,” you say, lifting a floppy sleeve in an imitation of a wave.

“What’s gotcha so blue, pal? Aside from the obvious,” he says, gesturing at the artificially blue lighting around you two.

You let out a little laugh at the joke, wringing your sleeves together. “O-Oh nothing, Caine…” you say.

He’s quiet a moment, then lets out a thoughtful hum. “Hmmmmmmmm?” he muses. His eyes stay in place while his mouth and body rotate around them until he’s upside-down. “Nothing?” he repeats, a layer of dubiousness making itself known beneath his usually pompous tone.

“N-Nothing you need to worry about…” you correct.

Caine abruptly rights himself, giving the top of your hood a gentle tap with his baton, causing your hood--your head--to deflate slightly. 

“Nonsense!” he cries as you try to push your hood back into a head-like shape. “As ringmaster I am in charge of ensuring all characters maintain their happiness and sanity!” he cries, his irises “closing” into little crescents…which is about as close as he can get to closing his eyes.

At your silence, his eyes open again and he floats downward, leaning in close. “Is it because Bubble didn’t save you guys any angel food cake? I told that little parasite--”

“It isn’t that!” you say quickly, holding up your sleeves and quickly shaking your hood.

“Oh. Excellent!” he chirps. For a moment, you hope the tangent had distracted him, but you realize he’s still looking at you expectantly.

“I was uh…just um…thinking about the human world, I guess…” you admit, one of your sleeves rubbing the other nervously.

“Ahhh yes, that whole affair,” Caine says, his tone both pompous and commiserating. He floats down to join you on the ground and begins walking beside you. “I do apologize for how long the Exit Door is taking. I do still have some new ideas I--”

“I’m not worried about the Exit Door, Caine,” you say. He’s talked about making one before, and you’re told when Pomni arrived, he’d come up with something pretty convincing. But it was no real exit. None of you are sure if his “Exit Door” talk is just another game, some new level he’s designing that he thinks will delight all of you indefinitely, or if he truly is trying to help you find a way out.

Most of the time you’re not sure if Caine even knows.

“Oh?” he asks curiously. “Everyone else is.”

“Well…I’m not not worried about it…” you amend.

One side of his upper teeth raises in an approximation of a quirked brow. “But you just said--”

“I-I mean…I’m worried about it in general I guess, but not right this second,” you clarify quickly.

“Ah. I see,” he says with a small nod. Once again he looks at you expectantly.

“Can I ask you something?”

Caine’s mouth tilts to one side curiously, but after a moment he cries “Certainly!” in his usual showman tone.

“Do you…have any data on who we used to be? Even…what we looked like?” you ask.

“Afraid not, friend!” he declares easily. “In fact, I don’t even know what humans look like!”

You falter slightly, glancing over him in surprise. “Not at all?”

“Not at all!” he says with a grand sweep of his arm. “Think about it. When would I have ever seen a human?”

“I…I suppose…” you say.

“I have inferred some things though!” he declares, raising one finger and puffing his chest as he walks. “Ragatha is the closest. Pomni being a close second. And you being…” He stops walking, one hand scratching his chin. “Perhaps a distant third?” he asks tentatively, as if he’s truly not sure.

You’re not entirely sure either. If Jax’s ears didn’t make him resemble a rabbit more than a human, one could make the case that he’s more “human” than you by virtue of having a solid shape and an actual face.

But you simply shrug and dip your hood in a nod. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Good!” he chirps easily, taking a couple quick steps to catch up to you and once again fall into step beside you. “But why do you ask?”

You don’t think he’s going to stop prodding until you tell him. Or until he decides you need a new adventure to take your mind off of it. Though even after you tell him, he might still think you need an adventure. But either way, it seems your only chance at a peaceful evening is to just tell Caine what’s on your mind.

Still, that’s a bit easier said than done.

“I-It’s just…I don’t really remember specifics about my life…”

“Nobody does!” he chirps.

“Right,” you continue, not particularly phased by the interruption. “It’s…hard to explain, but…s-sometimes…when I look in the mirror and don’t have a face--a real face…it’s…almost a relief?” you say, glancing up at him.

Caine simply stares at you in silence, waiting for you to continue.

“I-I just…feel like…there was something in the mirror I…didn’t like seeing…but I don’t know why…”

One side of his upper jaw raises slightly in a curious expression. “Do you mean in a physical sense? Or more metaphorical?” he asks.

You glance over at him in surprise. You hadn’t expected such an insightful question. If anything, you’d assumed he’d take it literally--that you just didn’t like your human face. Nothing deeper than that.

But even you don’t know if it’s deeper than that.

“I don’t know,” you say. “I don’t remember clearly enough. It’s…just…an impression of how I used to feel, I guess.”

“Hmmmm…” he hums, his fingers drumming on the gums below his lower row of teeth. “Well, good buddy, I’m afraid I can’t help with that.”

You’d give a small, good-natured smile if you could, but you can’t, so you simply flop your arms in a mild shrug. “I didn’t think so. That’s why I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Bother? Hardly a bother!” Caine cries cheerfully. “Your happiness and sanity are my priority!” he declares, placing a fist against his chest and puffing up proudly.

“W-Well..thanks for um…checking in on me anyway,” you say, wringing your sleeves together awkwardly.

He lifts off the ground again, hovering in front of you. He lays horizontally, his hands folded under his lower jaw. “For what it’s worth though, friend…If you had a face, I’d sure be happy to see it!” he says, poking the bridge of your glasses with one finger.

You sputter in surprise at the remark, and the little touch. He…he surely meant both in the most innocent, innocuous way possible…right?

Caine’s irises close into happy crescents as he rights himself, taking your sleeves in his hands. “Feeling better?” he asks, and you think you hear some genuine warmth in his tone.

Your hood flops forward in a nod. “Y-Yes…thank you.”

“Good!” he crows happily. “Ready to head back? There’s a mousse pie with your name on it!” he grins. Then he pauses, tapping his chin with one finger. “Which I maaaaay mean literally, if that’s your fancy!”

You laugh softly. “Figuratively is fine.”

“Ah, good. Keeps things simple!” he says. He lowers himself to the ground again, and to your surprise, holds out his elbow for you. “Shall we head back, then?”

You’re surprised at the little gesture. You feel your glasses fogging up a bit but quickly lower your hood, trying not to draw attention to it. “S-Sure…” you say, looping your sleeves around his arm.

Life in the circus…isn’t terrible, you decide.

[obeymycok]

Pact Headcanons Pt. 2

Been thinking about this for like 2 months straight, world building is so much fun though. Anyways, I hope this makes sense because it’s hard to explain it perfectly without drawing it, which I am absolute dog shit at. Wish I could just cram y’all in my brain for like 20 minutes but this is the best I can come up with lmao

Part 1

I think MC can control whether their pact marks are visible or not. Unless of course they’re using the pact, in which case it glows. I think this is canon, but also that MC’s power increases the stronger their relationship is with said brother.

That being said, what if MC could do more than just bend the demon to their will? What if MC could also use the brothers’ powers to defend themselves if the brothers couldn’t? (Or just because they can) I mean like their very own demon form and everything but based on the brother’s sin they’re using.

Slight backtrack to the demon-human relationships, not everyone acts on a certain sin the same way. For example, it’d be a very good argument to say that Asmo is also very prideful. He sees himself as the most important and beautiful being in existence (I mean..👀) Now Lucifer is also pretty full of himself, but he mainly prides himself on achieving anything and everything. 

I see an MC who prides themselves like Asmo, having a weaker energy/attack when using Lucifer’s powers for protection. MC would also indulge in (insert sin) almost exclusively. Not a personality change because it’s still them, but definitely a certain mood whenever they switch. An MC using Satan’s pact becomes noticeably more irritated and the air is thick with tension.

As far as the demon form goes, hair color, demon features, and height is the only thing that copies the brothers. Skin color might merge a bit with light-skinned MC using Mammon’s pact or a dark-skinned MC using Belphie’s pact but their own would remain dominant. Like brother and MC’s child if they have one. Hair and body type remain the same, and clothing would be changed to MC’s style.

Maybe an MC using Asmo’s pact is a little more self conscious and acts more like Levi? An introvert who reads spicy fanfics, perhaps? They would remain as covered as they felt comfortable. And of course, an MC who’s JUST like Asmo, is free to wear however little they want. AND the pact ALWAYS adjusts to MC’s comfort because I’M the op and I said so (also supporting good and bad self esteem days💅)

But yeah, I think I’m gonna write a fic/more headcanons for the brothers reacting to MC just whipping a whole ass demon form out and obliterating something with power that rivaled their own (go MC!!💅👀💅)

[sketch-twentytwo]

Redux Robotix AU

AU in which George Beard is bumped up to the third grade when he transfers to Jerome Horwitz Elementary School at the funny age of FIVE, leaving Harold Hutchins to make friends with an unlikely ally.

@infini-tree already did an AU based on this concept (their Lab Comix Inc. AU), which you should totally check out! But I wanted to try my own take!

My version is a bit less than a roleswap, and more so a self indulgent exploration of the space—I’m mostly following the canon of the books, but this AU might ebb and flow into the movie, who knows?

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Without George to save him from bullies in book 9, I think Harold remains a timid and quiet boy. He’d continue to be mild mannered and polite, just trying to stay out of the limelight as best he can in order to avoid trouble.

I think Harold and Melvin meet when Melvin successfully showcases his latest robot to the class. There's no funny business to intrude on his presentation, meaning when the robot inevitably malfunctions it is 100% his fault. Harold would essentially draw fanart of the robot destroying a city which sparks their interaction.

Melvin is outraged that Harold would think of his intentions as evil or destructive and Harold, without a confrontational bone in his body, would quietly apologize and dejectedly crumple up the drawing. Melvin, recognizing some of his own loneliness in Harold, apologizes for his own outburst and suggests Harold draw his robot saving the city instead. Then he’d give advice and pointers for robotic designs and the two would grow closer from there.

Melvin is still egotistical, but having a friend who doesn’t constantly make fun of him or his inventions helps him mature emotionally. Harold remains the quieter one of the two, but he’d become less shy and more silent by choice. He helps Melvin mellow out from being the disliked tattletale, allowing him be cool and relaxed. I imagine he provides Melvin a friendly outlet and introduces him into a world of creativity.

I believe George inspired a lot of the crude jokes that took place in the Treehouse Comix, so with them not being friends, Harold would have had a much milder sense of humor. At the very least, he wouldn’t admit to enjoying the potty jokes as much, but he might still have an involuntary chuckle now and again. Because Melvin doesn’t have a sense of humor, I think him and Harold's antics would by less “entertain the school” based and more “revolutionize the school” to make things easier for kids (like a Homework Doer 3000 or a Personal Water Fountain that walks with you, or inflatable dummies that let you sneak out of class—that sort of thing).

Melvin still craves adoration/recognition and Harold is fine to let him have all the attention. Publicly, they’d be seen as Melvin as the brains and Harold as his assistant, but behind closed doors at Melvin’s house, they would be genuine best friends.

I don’t see Melvin replacing George as a writer, I think this unlikely friendship would result in a different tag team setup. Melvin supplies his ideas for robots, doodads, and inventions while Harold continues to supply the drawings/designs. Harold also probably tries to hype up Melvin's ideas, making them more grandiose and spectacular, though he'd deny any of the credit.

With his help, Melvin is seen less as a nerdy suck up and more a mad scientist whose always jotting down invention ideas into his notebook. It's not like he has to study in class lol. Harold is no longer a part of a pranking duo, and is now a silent observer who is always doodling in class instead of paying attention (ADHD strikes again!)

Together they make blueprints and robots that (unfortunately) have a tendency to go wrong!

Melvin and Harold are probably rule followers, something Harold doesn't mind and Melvin has slowly been growing irritated with. With Harold fueling his ideas, Melvin has gotten tired of listening to dumb adults who don't know any better than him. He wants to invent and change the world! He doesn't have time for creative writing or electives!—Though he will still abide by the rules, but mark his words he will break them one day. Just not today.

Any trouble the Robotix Duo get into is purely unintentional and probably the result of a robot exploding and causing property damage. In this way they’re still infamous, but their relationship with the teachers is less contrarian.

—————

Which brings me to George.

In Book 9, it is implied George’s defiance and pranks were done out of boredom. I don’t think that would go away, even if he was placed in the “correct” grade.

George continues to struggle in class as a result of his ADHD, and being surrounded by peers just as intelligent as him but lacking his sense of humor would definitely drag him down. He’d be the class clown still, but his pranks would be a lone wolf vs the world scenario. Think Rafe Khatchadorian from the first Middle School book, except since George is operating alone, he’d try to stay anonymous about his “work”.

For now I’m just going to steal a name from Dog Man to be George’s alias until I can come up with something better: 80-HD (who canonically has the power of imagination!).

Krupp is onto George, and knows that he’s the culprit for the uptick in silliness and pranks at the school, but throughout George’s 4-5 years at Jerome Horwitz, he’s never been able to scrounge up any proof.

George, Melvin, and Harold wouldn’t be adversaries as much as brief acquaintances as the three end up in the principal's office a lot in passing. Melvin and Harold manage to squeeze out of getting detention, leaving George alone to deal with Krupp’s anger. George also avoids any real punishment, as Krupp can’t suspend or expel him without clear evidence of his wrong doing.

George continues to write his imaginative stories, but without an artist to draw them, I think they remain in prose. 

George distributes his writings in the form of secret pamphlets or “newspapers”. Maybe he’d come up with a gossip column that is entirely fiction, and stuff it into the locker of anyone who has purchased a weekly “subscription”. (My boy has to get his money from somewhere!) How the payment works is still in the air, but I figure he makes enough as he would in canon.

————

Melvin and Harold are unintentionally the target for quite a few of 80-HD’s articles. It depends on if their robot of the week malfunctions in a creative enough way.

Harold is neutral towards 80-HD and probably knows his secret identity (the funny thing about being the quiet kid in class is that no one really notices when you're there). He probably feels bad for George knowing that he's a 9 year old alone in the 7th grade. Harold is too hesitant to reach out, though, and instead watches from afar. Maybe he makes wanted posters of 80-HD as a gag, one of which George keeps in his locker.

Meanwhile Melvin dislikes 80-HD and WILL tattle on them if he were to find out their secret identity. Harold has convinced him not to pursue them. Their articles are free publicity! And so, Melvin has no reason to pursue 80-HD's true identity....

At least until my take on the events of the movie!

DUN DUN DUNNN.

Stay tuned for more!(?)

[raenegade-accio]

“Ready?”

“...I’m ready.”

“Crucio!”

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I’ve wanted to make something based on the Scriptorium quest for ages!!

(edited the hand and Seb’s hair cuz it was bugging the hell out of me and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t fix it!!)

It always struck me as odd seeing how MC took the curse a little too well - when the pain is supposedly so intense most people would much rather die on the spot. And look, my pain tolerance is as low as the Dead Sea, I’d probably start crying just from a paper cut 

naturally Wren (MC) might do slightly better than I would, not well enough though. No - she’d likely pass out from the pain as the entrance door opened

and Seb, oh Seb, I couldn’t even tell if he felt guilty or not, so I wanted to be self-indulgent and have him giving MC some well-deserved comfort after the shit he put us and poor Ominis through lmao

tried ditching my usual ‘cutsie stickers and keychains’ style of drawing, didn’t work lol

[fosterscribbles]

I am giving in, it's time to share my sparkledog au ✨️

I've talked quietly about this on this blog before, and I've been drawing them for a year-ish now. I never posted them cause it's niche and idk if its something people care about, But it's my blog I will post sparkle dog au if I want lol

Anyway, welcome to sparkle dog au, where Tome and Shou have silly sparkle dog ocs and slowly drag all of their friends into making their own (or forcibly designing one and then begging them to entertain the idea). It's a self indulgent au, this is the type of kid I was at this age and it's fun to think about what it would be like if the mp100 kids were too. They are all partly based on my experiences, design preferences, types of things I'd draw, and actual childhood art and ocs from when I was in middle school. It's really just about the silly art the gang might make of their sparkledogs.

I had a hard time trying to come up with names for most of these guys tbh, so most are unamed/i refer to them but their actual name. BUT Tome's character is Orbit, Mob is just Mob, and Inukawa's is Pixel! Every single one has a ref made or in wip stage, from the main kids, telepathy club, the girls, etc. Idk if I'll post the refs, they mostly serve as a guide for me to make art, just know I'm losing my mind in mp100 sparkledog hell.

Below the cut are some of the first drawings I did. I used the lineart of my real middle school art, all ranging from 2011-2015

[reegis]

I just love your character design! Do you have any specific way you come up with new designs or is it different for each character? Also what is your favorite part of the design process? Keep up the amazing work and I always love seeing new art from you!! <3

thank you so so much!! designing characters is one of my favorite things eve r & it literally makes me tear up that yall like my designs as much as you do!! i honestly can never articulate how much it means to me when yall geek out in the tags on one of my posts.. proposing marriage

as far as any sort of process.. hmm… i guess i first make a sort of mental list of canon character traits, and how those might present physically, as well as if the character is Based off of something, how aspects of that might affect appearance. (like my caterpillar design having choppy, messy hair, or hatter & hare having very different but equally outdated military uniform, etc etc). a lot of it is just preference too ngl… i love droppy eyes, scars and elf ears & i think that shows up way more than it should fjfjfj. thor & the marquis in particular are just purely self-indulgent “what if i combine all of my favorite things into one character”

i also try and look back over my recent designs to make sure im not just. making the same character in a different haircut 20 times. i want them to be relatively diverse & unique & recognizable, no same-face or what have u. im always on pinterest looking for inspo for different styles and body types and etcetc

my favorite part is Always hair. i love drawing hair, i love designing new haircuts, i love playing around while i design them & trying 50 different hair colors dhfjfjf its So fun hair is such a big part of self expression and says SO much abt a persons character i love it all

thank you again for asking!!!!!

[jaybirdswriting]

Things To Do If You Have Writers Block

A: Read that book you've wanted to get to or reread one of your favorites! Maybe you'll find some inspiration from the words. Yet even if you don't, analyze what about the book's writing style you like and don't like, then try to apply that to your own and see if anything flows better.

B: Plan the beginning, middle, and end of a story, and nothing more. Get as nonsensical as you want to! (EX: Start: A man finds a tree. Middle: The man brings the tree to life. End: The man becomes a bird so he can live in the tree.)

C: Change up your writing style to see if something new would help. Do you usually write in first person? Try writing in second. Do you usually write in second person? Try writing in first.

D: Come up with new small facts about your OC's or headcanons about your favorite character! (EX: What's their least favorite color? Do they believe in luck? What's their favorite soda?)

E: Write a few paragraphs about what your favorite character would be up to after the end of their story.

F: Think about your favorite media. Then, think about the thing you dislike most about that media. Write a ten step plan about how you would personally fix this problem if you were in charge.

More Undercut

G: Write a very non serious shitpost. Like…something so stupid that it isn't even worth putting real effort into.

H: Go engage with that one media that always makes you want to write something for it.

I: Focus on something for your story that isn't writing. Do you want to research something for your story to be more accurate? Focus on that for a bit and then come back to your writing.

J: Play the paragraph game with a friend! The paragraph game is when you write one paragraph of a story and your friend writes another.

K: Write a paragraph and then do something else. (EX: Write a paragraph and then read a chapter/page of a book. Write a paragraph and then walk a lap around your room. Write a paragraph and then doodle something on a sticky note.)

L: Think about your favorite lyric of all time. Then write a scene based on them.

M: Write about a day from your pets perspective. If you don't have a pet, write about a day from your favorite animals perspective.

N: Write something so embarrassingly self-indulgent that you'd never post it. That way, you won't feel the pressure of showing other people your writing, while also trying to write something you really enjoy.

O: Have a competition with yourself! See how many words you can write in the span of ten minutes over a week! You might surprise yourself.

P: Try a different medium of creativity and see if focusing on something else will get you unstuck. (Like editing, drawing, singing, knitting, etc.)

Q: Start on a new project and see if that gets you unstuck. You can always come back to the old one later.

R: Write something that's NOT from the main characters perspective. How would that one side character you really love react to something the main character has gone through? Or what were they up to while the main character was going through something.

S: Make random characters on Picrew, The Sims, BG3, literally anything with any kind of character customization. Maybe making a really cool design will make you inspired to write a really cool backstory to go with them.

T: Journal your day so you're writing something even if it isn't taking up creative energy. (Because the lack of creative energy is real.)

U: Read anything you write out loud, sometimes it helps things flow better.

V: Rewrite some of your old work. See if you find new wording for that one sentence that bothered you back then.

W: Meet your needs. It's much easier to write after a snack, a drink, and a nap if you feel like you need one.

X: Write about how an interaction would go between two characters who have never met in canon.

Y: Daydream! Not everything has to be written using pen or paper or an internet document. Just daydream about a story you'd like to tell and maybe get inspired. Or maybe you won't, but you will have kept the creative juices flowing!

Z: Release yourself from the pressure of writing. You will get something done when you get something done, and sometimes you just need a break. Even from things you love.

[dailyadventureprompts]

I really enjoyed your takes on Baphomet and Orcus as demon lords that might have plausible cults in the mortal world. I’ve gone through and attached similar reasonable-albeit-extreme spheres of influence for most of the other major demon lords I plan to incorporate, but the one I’m getting stuck on is Jubliex. What sort of portfolio or sphere could a giant thinking slime embody that a reasonable, very desperate mortal would choose to worship it? I’m hoping to keep it in a shape that would preserve its 5e statblock, but everything else is fair game.

Footnotes on Foes: Juiblex, Godsmidden

Juiblex touches on many of the same factors I mentioned in my recent revamp of Zuggtmoy: A "Fill in the Blank Baddie" that is 100% all slime all the time. This doesn't make them a really great villain, which wouldn't be a problem except Juiblex is up there with other demon princes as a pantheon of badguys you can base your late game campaign on. " Slime" isn't really that rich a thematic well to draw from compared to blood oaths, cruelty, or lies, now is it?

So here's my proposed revision: One part tar pit, one part garbage heap, Juiblex is a grotesque amalgamation of all that is unwanted by the gods, a cosmic dumping ground that has spontaneously developed a will of its own. Slithering through the lowest caverns of the underdark, the shadowfell, and the dead realms, bridging them together like a network of interdimensional sewer tunnels.

The actual "being" of Juiblex is dispersed across this septic sea, byproduct of the decay of dead gods, alchemical runoff, cursed artifacts, and innumerable corpses all being broken down and blending with one another into a primordial soup. Bereft of an actual "self", Juiblex experiences flashes of identity and cognition as its internal currents dredge up errant personality traits, with the remains of particularly resistant entities influencing its outlook and personality for decades or even centuries. Lacking anything resembling a cult, Juiblex’s regurgitated personality influences those who’s water it taints, with such blighted individuals feeling the will of the formless lord fermenting in the places between their own thoughts. This alien aliment sometimes progresses into full on possession, with the most dangerous cases retching up the component for a portal and opening up a new interdimensional wellspring for the princeps of ooze.

Hooks

While normally contained to the lower reaches of the multiverse, Juiblex's influence sometimes pours through in unexpected places, exuding half-digested horrors upon the face of the world like flotsam left on a beach after a tide. This might be a reason why so many sewers in great and ancient cities seem to spontaneously develop infestations of aberrations and oozes, as well as how relics from forgotten times might end up unleashed on the present. Those tho traverse these dank and fetid chambers might unwittingly seek to dredge Juiblex for more treasures, drawing a little more of the demon-ooze's influence into the world in the process.

Millennia after his defeat, a slain and mostly dissolved war god of has clawed his way to the top of the midden and has begun to direct the princeps of ooze with his desperate desire to get back at the gods that cast him down. Sowing a bit of sickness into the water supply of a military garrison, a cohort of fevered, delirious soldiers now marches through the countryside desecrating temples and raiding villages for supplies. Even if the party is able to route these foes, unless they discover the true nature of the affliction it’s very likely they’ll be fighting a mob of the common people that’ve caught the contagious dissent.

Seeking to avoid the barbarities of lesser folk, a conclave of elves established a city high atop a mountain, retreating into hedonistic indulgence and introspective study while their magic provided for every need. Something went wrong, the city’s water became tainted, and the conclave slowly succumbed to poison while the world below passed them by. Centuries after they were forgotten, the glacier that built up around their abandoned home is starting to melt, releasing their poisonous contents into the local watertable. Flooded mines, sickened townsfolk, and ravening monsters are sure to follow, all under the sway of a local manifestation of Juiblex that thinks it’s a clique of clever, highborn elvan socialites of a forgotten era, their egos and eccentricities all melded into one.

Art