#these were fun 👀

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[evostrashbin]

maid Kiran concept doodle to go along with butler Grima <3

[snail-noodle]

okay I'm just gonna ramble about my oc x shadow milk cookie now lmao 😭

Art credit @98chao 🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙 go check them out!!

Okay okay I have an oc, Oracle Cookie, who I ship with Shadow Milk Cookie, and every time I think about them, it's always the moment when they finally see each other after centuries have passed!

No, Oracle cookie did not approve of Shadow Milk cookie or his friends corruption. She couldn't bare to watch her lover and her friends act this way, so she stayed far away from them and remained with her family, even after they were imprisoned. She only found out that they were imprisoned when she received a letter from the faerie king himself!

And despite it all, despite who Shadow Milk Cookie had become, she was still in love with him. She keeps trying to deny it but once she sees him again... well, she can't lie to herself anymore.

I keep thinking of how they would hold eachothers faces so tenderly and lovingly 😭💖💕💖💕 he'd probably whisper her promises of how he'd keep by his side from now on and how they'll rule earthbread together once he regains his full power.

My girl may be in love, but she's no fool! I'm still debating on her being locked away in some dimensional pocket that shadow milk created to keep her, er, safe from the other cookies. Perhaps this could be a way for her to find out what exactly caused him to become the beast he is now.

But I also want her to travel alongside Gingerbrave and his friends. She's a bit of a recluse, so traveling with them will help her see that she doesn't have to remain in the past, especially when there's so much hope for the future :']

[theonekierce]

i. accidentally did a leyendecker-ish study? i promise i started this just meaning to do a warm up doodle but alas. whole entire painting feat. the actual albany windows.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Alycia Debnam-Carey for Dior fashion week

[gintrinsic-writing]

CW: restraint, blood, implied vague MCD.

—

There were thirty-four seconds left. Thirty-three. Thirty-two. 

“So,” Dark Link drawled with a smirk, “who’s it going to be, hero?”

Time licked his lips nervously. He shook where he sat. “I…”

“Tick-tock, tick-tock. Come on,” Dark Link goaded, “I don’t have to tell you time’s running out! Choose, or they all die.”

Time’s wrists and ankles were weeping beneath their restraints. Still, he thrashed once more, oblivious to blood pooling beneath him, groaning with despair when his efforts yielded not an inch of freedom. Dark Link merely laughed. 

Twenty-one seconds. Eight heroes suspended over hungry black flames. 

He looked at each of him—at Wind, the youngest, who was so full of life and yet needed in the War of the Ages; at Legend, the veteran, who somehow always found the good worth fighting for; at Sky, the first of them, whose love and devotion created a legacy; at Twilight, Time’s descendant, whose loyalty and protectiveness could surpass even that of a curse; at Hyrule, the mortal child of a fairy, whose resilience was curing the timeline thought to have been abandoned; at Wild, the survivor, whose previous death had only filled him with a greater love for life; at Four, the second hero, whose spirit was too great to be broken; at Wars, the captain, who played the role of brother just as easily as he did hero. 

Time looked at each of them, and he prayed, and he begged, and still the timer drew closer to zero. 

“Well?” Dark Link asked, magic coiling above his fingertips. “Five seconds to go. Who gets to live?”

Time didn’t allow himself to look away. He’d carry this horror forever. He opened his mouth and named—

[kingkatsuki]

Could you imagine Bakugou getting a letter from a kid while he’s at his agency? And like he only ends up getting it by accident because usually his team deal with his fan mail and reply with generic responses, add a printed signature at the footer and sometimes if people are lucky a signed photograph.

But this particular morning he’s running late into the office because getting up on this bitter winter morning was difficult, he’s striding into the building and manages to pick up a pile of mail for him at reception that he thinks is important. Finally taking a seat behind his desk as he opens the bright red letter on top, as he realises that it’s in fact from a fan.

And as he reads the letter he finds himself smiling down at it softly as it talks about how Dynamight is his favourite hero, that he hopes one day he’ll have a quirk as strong and powerful as him, but for now he’s quirkless. Going on to talk about his school and how he’s getting bullied, but if he had a quirk as good as his favourite Pro he’d be strong enough to fight back. And the letter ends with the kid asking Dynamight if he’ll come to his school for a show and tell this Friday because he can’t think of anything cooler than Dynamight.

And there’s just something about this story that resonates with Bakugou, and hits a little too close to home. Smiling softly as a picture drops out from behind the letter, a colourful drawing of what he assumes is him and the kid. A crude stick figure with chunky green gauntlets that look more like watermelons as he shoots explosions into the sky. Picking up the phone in his office as he asks his receptionist to cancel his plans for the Friday that week.

And it starts Bakugou actually opening his fan mail himself, of course he can’t get to all of it— but he tries. He instructs his team to deliver it into his office so he can read through as much as he can.

[deadfish-dol]

@macabrecravings Evangeline! :)

[good-beansdraws]

Very silly sequel to my other Fuuta/Mikoto duet art -- it turns out both VAs were in this singing group anime together! (I haven't seen any other Milgram vas overlap songs, and now I've found two for them, huh...) I cut the songs together to make a fun little duet, but the individual versions are here: 🔥 ⚾

The outfits are courtesy of @clover0101 's au here :D

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

[explodingstarlight]

i did it, i did the thing 😌✨ turtlesona time!!

MAJOR thanks to my rad moot @snailsnaps for actually getting me to draw him because the executive was not functioning on the task until they brought it up /g

Just some additional lil fun facts/ramblings about Nova that I figured might be an interesting read ^^

+ Nova's name refers to both supernovas (which I think are super cool and am totally projecting my interest onto him) & 80's bossa nova music (very vibey and also gave inspiration for their color palette)

+ Crippling energy drink addiction /lh

+ Likes bugs, particularly moths (death's-head and poodle moths are very cool) & salamanders (their coloration).

+ Places stickers/decals all over themselves and their stuff. The shiny heart and wavey-line details on their shell?? Vinyl decals they made. They only have a few spots on their shell naturally (as natural as a mutant bog turtle is lmao) and thought it was too boring, so they "fixed" it.

+ Draws but only digitally; hates the mess/stickiness of traditional art (chalk pastels are the DEVIL; he's just like me,,,, he's just like me FR 😭🖐️)

+ HUGE seafood fan: will go rabid over a plate of shrimp alfredo; also really enjoys noodles in any form.

+ Hates hot tea but really enjoys a good iced tea.

+ Special interest in astronomy

+ OBNOXIOUS music taste (based off of mine lmao): mainly hyperpop-esque EDM or emo music, but as the design implies, also enjoys some bossa nova music when the mood hits.

+ If he's not wearing his mask, they're very partial to beanies (likes to have something on their face/head at all times)

+ This mf autistic as hell /pos (he's just like me fr x2)

+ Generally seems very laid-back and calm. He's just kinda there for the vibes. BUT they are a massive enabler for chaos--they may not be coming up with the plan, but they Will assist the cause to see what happens. He Can and Will lie with a straight face to help said chaos goblin out. He likes the drama 🤷

And THIS, is a bog turtle! I obviously changed coloration to have more fun with it (and didn't go with yellow markings cuz it resembled Mikey too much), but I kept them in mind:

They're actually pretty similar in size and general build to little box turtles, so I went with Mikey's general body shape when designing Nova. :)

ANYWAY, that's it for now! Thanks for sticking around and reading, if you made it this far 😌✨

[rebouks]

Hey so recently I saw that ask about a ship between Robin and Levi and it reminded me of how originally I didn't quite ship Ivan and Oscar, BUT I felt there was going to be a romantic build up between them early on! How wrong I was! I never saw people on your blog talk of these two and I'm curious if anyone else felt this way 😂

lmaooooooo omg imagine how different the story would've been if Oscar/Ivan would've ended up together sdskjdkj 🤯 it would've never stood a chance tho cos Oscar is a million percent straight and as such it never even crossed my mind 😔

i'm so curious now tho if anyone's ever thought the same whilst starting Somnium from the beginning or maybe shipped two characters who went in completely different directions?! 👀

[leverage-ot3]

sorry to keep personal posting but my day fucking SUCKED and ended with me dropping one of my brand new earrings from a set that I just finished cleaning down the drain, took the sink apart and still couldn’t find it 🙃

if y’all feel like asking a leverage/misc question for thoughts or headcanons I’d love to answer them in the morning! or even if you just want to say something about your day- I just like hearing from you guys 💖

[sirofreak]

Some Unwind characters with pretty outfits from pintrest

Full pages under the cut!

[buckevantommy]

all i see is buck hulking outta his shirt while wearing mardi gras beads + anal beads

[nil-elk]

Mutual's OCs drawing challenge, first batch heehee h00h00 👀🙈 💖 @killjo-q 's Elden Ring tarnished @supersappho 's cute af Chevy