Offering to you all some sandy doodles in these trying times

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

tianjiu (food 4 me specifically)

ok but has anyone considered: glowy eyed Emerald Trio . upgrades people

Me: "Can I please use all this energy to draw on an actual project"

My brain: "You will draw the same character over and over and you will like it."

Me: "Okay."

So I'd never really drawn Elise before ! Kind of hard to find the right balance between Sonic character proportions and my regular human art style, huh...

Imagine if Machete was Muslim instead of Catholic. His name would be something like Saif سيف, and Vasco would probably be something like Dhahabi ذَهَبِيّ

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yeah so i'm falling for @weevmo's Guys... they're so neat! i dig their vibes and can't wait to see what Corduroy Stew is all about <3

He is the ultimate babygirl after all

did you know you can trigger a game over within the first 5 minutes of the game just by deciding this Isn't Your Problem?

TotK DLC idea!

The screen is black. You don’t hear anything for a long time. Then, faintly, in the distance, you can hear it.

Link. Link. Open your eyes.

While the line echoes familiarity, the voice does not.

Or. Well. It does. Because while it isn’t Zelda, it’s a familiar man’s voice speaking gently, so gently you almost don’t recognize it because there’s no way he ever spoke like this in the main game.

But he is now. And instead of a golden light being the first image you see before the screen shows Link awakening… you see gloom floating in the air. The image cuts to a Hylian waking up who… doesn’t look like Link from TotK?? He’s different, still small in stature, with slightly tanner skin, platinum light blonde hair, and red eyes. But… something’s wrong with his forehead. There’s a weird line on it.

This new character you apparently are gonna be playing in the DLC blearily blinks his eyes open, clearly groggy and too weak to really move. But then that line on his forehead moves a hair, it splits apart, and you realize it’s a freaking eye, red and yellow and it’s like the ones on gloom hands and oh gosh what the hell is it doing on his forehead—

Link realizes something is off and his eyes blow wide, his hands reach for his forehead and he screams in agony and terror, only for someone to scoop him into a hug to soothe him.

And suddenly you realize why that voice was eerily familiar.

It’s Ganondorf. He resurrected you from the era of the Imprisoning War. You, who have a history with him and his family. You, who he wants to protect, who he views as his kid, who he calls a prince and says he’ll keep you safe by controlling your body with his dark magic if he has to.

Welcome to Tears of the Kingdom: Hero’s Shadow.

You have to play a long gone Hero who was resurrected. Ganondorf, who is still recovering his strength in preparation for killing the current Hero, tasks you with finding your betrothed, his daughter, as well as his wife. They’re buried somewhere in the Depths like you were. He wants you to find their burial sites so he can use his secret stone to resurrect them like he did you, and control them as well. Which is doubly bad when you realize his wife was the original Sage of Lightning. He gives you free reign to wander once you go through a tutorial (he tests you to see if you’ve recovered enough strength), because he knows you love wandering and collecting things. Your own personal objective, however, is trying to help Hyrule from the Depths, to break free from Ganondorf’s control, because Link would rather set himself on fire than let Ganondorf resurrect and control the love of his life and his mother-in-law. Your best hope is to find shards of the shattered Master Sword to try and stab the eye on Dark Link’s forehead and break the control Ganondorf has on you. Until you can, though, the monsters are your allies, you can teleport across the Depths by manifesting out of the gloom created by gloom hands (just like what Phantom Ganon does), and the world below is your oyster. If you get too close to sword shards when gloom hands are nearby, Ganondorf can see your attempt and immediately takes control of your body, and no matter what button you press Link just walks back to Ganondorf’s location and stays there until you get a chance to try again.

You start with three hearts, all empty looking like when gloom hurts you, and if you get injured they just shatter. Whenever they all shatter, you respawn at Ganondorf’s location because his gloom hands came and rescued you from dying. The only way you can get more hearts is by collecting poes and offering them to the statues in the Depths. You can communicate with the spirits of soldiers, who may give you combat tips or info about the area. If you gain enough of Ganondorf’s trust, he’ll let you command monsters, and he might even let you wander the Surface (under his supervision) during a blood moon.

You learn of Link’s and Ganondorf’s history through discovering ancient relics/texts that trigger memories. This connection between you and Ganondorf stems back to time before the war, well over ten thousand years ago. Link was engaged to Ganondorf’s daughter, but during the Imprisoning War the family fought against the demon king. Ganondorf did love his family, but he loved power more. Link sacrificed himself, letting himself get mortally wounded to save Rauru from a killing blow. Gan held him as he died, and it allowed Link to both beg him to stop and stab him in the heart with a light shard. The shard didn’t kill him, but it was what Rauru connected with when he hit him in the chest, allowing him to seal Ganondorf away. Ganondorf still wants the world, but his love for his family is still present, though now twisted, so he thinks he can control Link and everyone else with his dark magic in order to keep them safe and in line. Once the threat of the current Hero is eliminated, the world will be his, and his family will be safe. As such, he treats you, Link, the player, like a stubborn child, reeling you in, but does so in a horrific way, torturing Link by controlling him.

You have to break free of this and stop him, and the only hope you have is the distant call of a sword spirit…

"I think this is the most inhuman; and human, that I've ever felt.." MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. IN FIVE YEARS. A DECADE. imagine how much can happen in a century. just ONE (1). How will you grow? what phases do you find? even in 5 years, you will find patterns.

leon. (dolor)

fem. reader. angst with comfort. mentions of trauma.

he stands at the bedroom doorway, brows tight and tense the way they get when he’s lost in twilight thoughts.

he doesn’t walk in. he doesn’t quite look at you. just stares at the visage of you sitting up in bed, curled up under blankets and clean duvets, cuddled into dovefeather pillows. scrolling through your device, observing whatever it is you’re talking to him about lately. that show, that book you’re into. maybe some hobby you’re getting better at.

leon, for a good long while, stares into the mundane of the room.

you don’t say anything. you don’t insist, or inquire, or shoo away. you know this is how he gets sometimes. you know it’s because of everything that’s happened. everything, everywhere, everyone that resides behind those sky blue eyes, hollow and sunken, deciding to visit him every now and then, even on good days like today. even on days when earlier he’d looked at you like a man falling in love for the very first time, all over again, whose handsome face twinkled with mirth and stars and the kind of youth he may have once had when he was a boy.

leon stares. strong, safe body frozen at the door. tousled hair. roaming eyes. if you look closely enough, you may be able to see the growing desperation to ground himself. to ground his mind, at once racing with repressed memories but blank with numbness and nothing. there’s so much. so much yet so little he can manage to think out, to put into concept, perception.

it must show. it must because you finally lift your head up and force his eyes on yours, and you’re so sweet and beatific and good he wonders why you’re even here, when did you get here? between the blood and bites and flesh and bones and mama and dad and the city and spain and luis and jack when did you show up? when was it decided that you’d love him and stay? after everything he did, after everything he didn’t, why was it you chose him?

something burns down the sides of his face. one by one by one something burns after the other, but he doesn’t move. doesn’t make a sound. he just stares, stares and hopes you don’t notice it’s a bad one this time, hopes you notice he wants to talk now, he does, but he can’t, he can’t because nothing is coming out and his mouth is open but he can’t he can’t—

“sit with me, sweetie. keep me company.”

you pat the space beside you. the normal, cheery way you do. if he looks too close, he’ll see the calm look of worry you wear. but he doesn’t, because he might start hiding everything away again if he realizes the state he’s in. reminds himself it’s okay though. it’s okay, because it’s you, no one else, no one to hide from like so many times before.

leon finally moves. he watches himself from somewhere high up above the ceiling, climbing into the place you directed him to. he’s shaking. he looks a mess. but the feel of cool sheets and soft pillows brings him back just enough. enough to catch his breath, to try to organize a racing mind.

your hand sticks out. not too close, not too far. a noncommittal invitation. i’m here. it says to him. i’m here if you want. only if you want.

leon curls himself into your lap, taking the both of you by surprise.

the back of his head presses into your stomach. his nose pokes the soft of your thigh. his hair falls over his tear-striped face, shoulders trembling with silent sorrow. his hand frantically searches for something up above.

it lands on yours. without a word, he sets it over the hairs of his head, and silently motions for you to pet him.

“please.” is all he says.

you listen.

teardrops cascade down the expanse of your skin, each one a memory unspoken. uselessly do his hands cup his cheeks to catch them before they bloom, before he remembers the reason behind their fall. they will not stop. his silence becomes that of weeping whimpers, low, deep, from the cavity of his chest.

your fingers are featherlight across his scalp, a cautious touch in the wave of emotion. you say nothing only because you know he needs this, the physicality of affection, for words and sentiment are lost on deep dark hurt, unable to comfort like the caresses from a lover.

the two of you stay like this, for a long while. waiting for the tide to change, the storm to pass. until his tears lessen into saltskin, until he blinks fog away from damp lashes and loose strays of hair. you pull strands away from his rosy, tear stained cheeks to tuck them behind his ear. you run a gentle hand down his jaw, to the aching bob of his throat.

“my love, my boy.” you say softly. “you’re everything to me. nothing will change that. it’s been so hard for so long, i know. you’ve been strong all this time, leon.”

“what if i can’t do it? what if it’s not enough for you?”

“you’re more than enough, lee. you’ve been trying your best, don’t forget that in these moments. you’re home and life to me, always. love, darling, would i lie to you?”

his answer is immediate. “never.”

and he takes comfort in the pressing of your lips to the shell of his ear, the curve of cheeks and tissue scarred by the past. eyes shut tight, basking in the waves of gradual calm over him, keeping back the dark for the time being.

but he knows there’s too much to heal with simple kisses or honeyed words. plenty things he can’t bring himself to speak aloud with you. perhaps that’s where he’ll start, find somewhere to go, someone qualified to talk to. take the load off his back, and keep from worrying you, too.

he entwines your fingers together. brings them up for a kiss to your knuckles. “i love you. i’d do anything for you. anything.” hoarse his voice may be, he speaks strongly, clearly to emit his conviction. leon presses kiss after kiss across your fingertips, heart caught in his throat by how gently you cradle him into your bosom.

the warmth of your love lulls his fatigue into a dreamless sleep; his last thought is full of you and you alone.

Some highlights from a tense but still very Winterkov-y scene (Patreon)

I continue drawing sketches and coloring them. Still sorry for Mr Plant's petals, I used my old pallet for this one too.

I decided to draw some of my favorite background characters. This cloud fella is so cool, I love them. Also Dream Co is a very interesting concept. If I understood correctly, Telly has somehow broken a wall between a dream and reality. For Mr Plant was sleepwalking and punched his own tv, but somehow Telly died or was punched anyway. I love this little details in Twomp.

When the combat training routine ended up having distracting consequences