lazy pinterest redraws featuring my 6 favorite NEETs + others (2nd edition)

i think rauru and ganondorf hate-fucked in their shared mind prison

also heres another q bc one day i thought about floor pianos

Another Owl House thang I started right after Clouds on the Horizon and then promptly never finished, this time bullying Hunter with that one SU line lol

"i can see it in his eyes" 🥰

occurred to me that Luka would have known exactly what was happening the whole time in @buggachat‘s drowning (in plain sight) so i’ve decided he’s just... at sea. writing music. completely unaware of breaking news

.My boyfriend made this soup, Ketheric, yeah, wizard soup.

20 POSTERS FOR JUNGWON'S 20TH !!!

I saw @periwinklemoonlight was doing a DTIYS and I thought it looked interesting, so I decided to have my first go at a DTIYS! I hope I did alright (I loved peri's designs so I more or less kept them, I really only changed some of the colors)

some details and a bonus under the cut

one of the details I'm most proud of is how I colored the little gem; I used the rectangle tool on my scuffed drawing program and it came out cool! (I'm also proud of the gold parts, I really tried with those)

also, grian has claws. I like doing that to him lmao

lastly, I split the lilac and poppies like that for a reason- poppies are sometimes associated with death, and since grian is my icarus in this, it'd fit. Lilacs are also associated with love, which would fit scar as the sun

anyways, to wrap this up, here's a bonus version

Dear Keeley, I want you to know something. You never did anything wrong, it was all me. I was stuck. Stuck in my own shit. And I didn’t want to cause you any harm with it, so I pulled away. Sincerely yours, Roy Kent. XOXO.

hangman adam page + tumblr tags

i havent touched mlp in years but i just felt like messing around with discords design a little bit ig ??

-- glimpse.

Color Him Father, Color Him Love

buck/eddie | rated: G | 3K | 6x18 spec? | ao3

“I actually just came from the hospital,” Buck says, and something of worry or concern must show on Eddie’s face, because he immediately follows that with, “Not— not for me. I was visiting Connor and Kameron. And— well, he— he doesn’t have a name yet. They’re still debating. But he’s pretty cute.”

Ah. Well. Of course Buck would make a cute kid. Eddie slouches and sinks back into the couch cushions, and wants to pass out and sleep even more now. “I don’t doubt it.” 

“I got to hold him,” Buck says quietly, staring at his own hands propped palms-up on his lap. “They let me hold him.”

And it was everything you’ve ever wanted but you knew it wasn’t yours and you had to hand him back to whoever he might belong to and it shattered your heart in a thousand pieces?

Or is that just Eddie thinking of— things he shouldn’t be thinking of. But it’s hard not to think when Buck is right here and he’s made of love and sunshine and looks soft and beautiful in the light of late morning. And Eddie wants so badly to keep him. He also doesn’t want to bring up a potentially painful subject. But Buck had to have come over for a reason. Eddie asks, gently, carefully, but he does ask, “You regretting it now?” 

It takes a few seconds for Buck to exhale and then smile. But he smiles. And it feels real. “No. See. That’s the thing. I was worried I might, you know, feel—not regret necessarily, but sadness? Or something like it? Happy for them but sad for me? I was worried I might look at him or I might even hold him, and think about missing out because he’s not mine. But I didn’t.”

Eddie nods slowly, breathes slowly, and at least that’s good. That Buck is content. Not sure why he felt the need to rush over here when both of them should be sleeping off their shift. For at least a few hours. But as long as he’s all right. “Good. That’s good.” 

“Connor was worried, too. That he wouldn’t feel like it’s really his kid. But then I held the baby. And… he’s cute and I love kids, I’ve always loved kids, and maybe he might look kind of like me one day? He has a big, pointy nose like mine, which I’m sure they could have done without. But…” Buck trails off and turns his hands so they’re palm down and resting on his legs. And then he looks over at Eddie. “It didn’t feel like anything. He didn’t feel different from any other baby I’ve held. And I put him back in Connor’s arms, and I could see the way his face changed. The way he lit up and teared up and might have cried because that is his son.” 

The moment he mentions it, tears clearly pool in Buck’s eyes as well. So vivid in the sea of soft blue, but lit with the bright sunshine of the smile on his face. “I could tell that he felt it. I could see it. When he looked at that little boy and knew he would do anything to make him happy and he’d do anything to protect him and give him the life that he should have.” 

Buck makes gestures with both hands like he’s trying to clutch something to his chest, like he feels so much and can’t contain it. “And all I could think. Even if I shouldn’t. Was that I know that feeling.” He laughs but it comes with tears. And more words. “I know what it feels like to hold a kid and care about them and want to protect them. But it’s so different when it feels like they’re yours. It’s so much more. Even if you didn’t— Even if it’s not biological and you’re not. You’re not really the father. Because I hold Chris. I hold him and I feel like he is part of me.”

~~~ Buck has a revelation about what he is to Chris. And to Eddie. 

(read on AO3)

As much as I love the idea of Fox being forced to shoot Fives because Palpatine threatened the Coruscant Guard, I feel there’s a lot of unexplored potential in him being under the chip’s control. For one, imagine being shunned by everyone you know and love for something you don’t remember ever doing. It’s gotta add another layer of guilt and pain to not remember the reason as to why you’ve lost everyone in your life, because you know something happened. You may even know what happened, but you don’t remember the actual moment. There’s just… nothing. You go through all that emotional angst and there’s nothing you can do about it, you can’t even explain why you did it, because you don’t remember. Also, I imagine Fox would feel pretty detached from the situation. He doesn’t remember, and in the video his helmet is on, so it would probably be pretty hard for him to truly feel remorse when his actions don’t feel like his (because they aren’t, really). He’d probably come off as a coldhearted bastard, since he doesn’t show any regret for killing Fives, even though that’s because he can’t get himself to feel like he did that even when he tries.

Another thing: Fox wasn’t in control of his actions (in this version of events), but… how do you begin to explain that? Fox didn’t hear what Fives was rambling about, and Rex didn’t believe him so he probably isn’t gonna bring it up while he’s grieving. So Fox has no idea why he couldn’t control his body, he just knows that he couldn’t. How do you tell someone that without making them think that A) you’re bullshitting them to get away with your actions or B) you’re losing your grip on reality? I cannot think of any way, because most people will question what was controlling your actions then, and Fox would not have an answer. So either he tries to tell someone and is not believed, in fact people will probably think he’s a slimy liar too which effectively makes things worse, or he doesn’t even bother and people think he’s a heartless monster because he murdered a fellow clone when he didn’t have to and doesn’t even bother attempting to explain his reasoning. He’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.

You reach for him, eyes burning and throat tight. One hand cups his cheek, and the other hovers over the cracked plastron. Fuck, there's so much. There's so much red.

Somehow, he smiles.

"Don't go," you whisper. "Please. Please, I'm sorry."

Hazy eyes blink up at you slowly. His brow pinches, his plastron rising with a stutter. Like he's breathing around shards of glass. Maybe that's what it feels like. His mouth opens, and you see more red, tinting the inside of his lips.

"It's okay," he breathes. "It's okay."

His hand raises to clumsily mirror you, cupping your face. You can feel the blood smearing on your face as his thumb brushes across your cheek. His next blink is slower, and panic chokes you. Static roars in your ears. You can't tell if the ground is shaking or if that's just you.

"Don't go. Please, please, don't leave me."

He tries to speak again. You can't hear his voice anymore, but you can read his lips.

It's okay. It's okay. I love-

His hand falls away.