My ethereal problematic queenš
h
Today's Document
todays bird

Discoholic šŖ©

JBB: An Artblog!

Love Begins
I'd rather be in outer space šø

oozey mess
No title available

izzy's playlists!

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation

if i look back, i am lost

Kaledo Art
No title available
hello vonnie
Three Goblin Art

Origami Around
Claire Keane
KIROKAZE
AnasAbdin

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@jadentearl
My ethereal problematic queenš
I donāt know why we (the tumblr community) write posts like this (with so many specifying parentheses) whenever our collective wife (ao3) goes off to war (is unexpectedly down), but whatever the reason may be they make me giggle to myself every time
my part for NiceLing Calendar 2026. I'm excited to see the final result ā*: .ļ½”. o(ā§ā½ā¦)o .ļ½”.:*ā
Nice lives au where Lin ling saved his life by talking him out of suicide and Lin ling became Nice's "emotional support civilian"
Ms. J: what the-? Nice you cant bring a civilian here?!
Nice: this is my emotional support civilian if you take him i will kill myself
In my Au it's "I will kill him and myself":3
Hi š I'm Hallways, and this is my blog! I love to draw and yap about my blorbos, and sometimes my elusive ocs...
I am a adult, and I do occasionally reblog stuff with more mature content! I try to properly tag warnings on my original posts but there's still a chance you see something you don't vibe with, So there's your heads up!
Also sorry in advance to anyone that tries to dm me... I am. Uh. Very bad at responding. I love asks though!
I'm currently back in the dsmp trenches, mostly c!Dream and Staged duo, so you're gonna see a lot of that :3
if you're nice to me, I'll be nice to you š
Here is my new art blog @hallways-art (wow such a original name) it has... uh, only my art. Yay!
New Fanfic Drop (To be Hero X)
Part of Nice's Pov at the end cuz he crzy mf
A small, selfish part of him wondered what it would feel like to be the one getting saved for once. To have someone reach out to him instead of the other way around.
Just once.
As he drifted down toward the edge of the building, the static muffled everything. The sun was setting in front of him, warm and blinding, and Nice found himself drawn to it like a bug to a light that would finally swallow him whole. Without thinking too hard about it, he stepped forward.
Only belatedly did he register another presence on the roof, staring at him in stunned disbelief.
Trust kicked in automatically.
Nice flashed his signature move as he passed the man, muscle memory fueled by beliefs overriding everything else, even when all he wanted was to stop performing the hero everyone expected him to be and do something for himself for once.
He thought that maybe this was how it could stop. No more expectations. No more smiling until his face hurt. No more hurting Wreck. No more painful need to alwaysĀ be perfect.
This death was not perfect. It was loud. Messy. It would disturb many. His blood and brain matter would have to be scrubbed from the pavement and still leaving its mark no matter how many times they try. That was why Nice chose it. It was something he decided for himself for once. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun and burning for it, Nice would fall to his death on his own terms.
At least it would finally be quiet.
He stepped forward.
Then something yanked hard at his cape.
Nice barely had time to register what was happening before his body jolted, momentum snapping him back as he dangled midair. He looked up, dazed and unfocused, and met the eyes of the man he had dismissed as insignificant, gripping his cape with white knuckled grip. The man himself hanging off the edge of the building supported only by one trembling arm hooked over the ledge toĀ keep them both up.
Niceās mind latched onto details automatically.
The man was scrawny. No visible muscle definition. Narrow shoulders. Wrists that Nice was fairly sure he could snap with a single flex of his hand. His face was drained of color, jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful, teeth grinding as he sucked in sharp, uneven breaths. The arm holding the ledge shook violently, tendons standing out beneath stretched skin, while the other strained under Niceās weight.
By all logic, this should not have been possible.Ā
One hand on the ledge. One hand holding Nice. Physics did not add up. They should be both falling to their death by now.Ā
Maybe it was adrenaline. Panic gave people more strength than they were meant to have. Nice himself had experienced it before, back when he was still a nobody hero with barely any Trust Value to his name. Back when everything still hurt and felt real.
Nice could have flown.
He knew that.
He should have flown.
He did not want to.
He had been supposed to fall. To hit the ground, crack his head open, and splatter whatever was left of him across the pavement as one final, messy fuck you to the world. To Treeman. To Shang De. Let them scramble. Let them panic and bury the truth that their perfect hero had killed himself.
But this man refused to let go.
That was the problem.
This man could have saved himself. He could have watched Nice fall and walked away with nothing more than a bad memory, or at worst, an NDA shoved into his hands by Ms. J once she inevitability tracked him down.
Nice vaguely remembered the man shouting at his billboard earlier, hurling curses at his face. He clearly did not like Nice.
So why was he saving him?
Instead, he was risking his own life. Nice could feel the strain through the cape, the way the manās grip tightened every time he slipped an inch lower. There was a sharp crack somewhere. A sound that Nice was fairly sure came from bone.Ā
A wet, metallic smell hit the air. Red seeped down the manās hand, slicking his fingers, dripping onto the concrete below. Some of it splashed against Niceās face, warm and tingling his skin.Ā
Any other day, in the past, he would have panicked. He would have scrubbed at his skin until it burned, until the mirror showed nothing but raw pink and forced perfection again.
But now he did not move.
He let it soak into him. He let it trail down his cheek, slide along the corner of his mouth, down his neck, stain the pristine white of his hero costume. It felt almost reverent. Like rain blessing a drought after years of its absence. White was boring anyway. Too clean. Too empty. It needed color.Ā
The man had good ideas. Nice like it very much.
Niceās tongue darted out before he even thought about it, catching the thin line of blood that crept toward his lips. Metallic and still, sweeter than anything he could remember tasting. He hummed softly to himself, pleased, asĀ he had discovered something precious.
Above him, the hand keeping them from falling began to shake. It slipped an inch. The man snarled, panic breaking through as he slammed his forearm tighter against the ledge, skin scraping harshly, blood smearing wider.
Still, he pulled. He never let go, even after it became painfully clear that the hero he was hauling up had no intention of helping. No effort to ease the strain. No attempt to climb or float as both know Nice is capable of.
Nice stared at him adoringly.
His thoughts drifted lazily, pleasantly, like he was floating just above his own body. He felt light, warm, almost giddy. His body must be releasing all those happy hormones because he felt high,Ā loose-limbed, head buzzing as he watched the man strain for him.
How determined his hero was to save him.
All of that effort. All of that pain. Just for him.
What would this man do if his strength finally gave out?
If he lost his grip, would he follow Nice down, or would he use the chance to haul himself back up? Would he still try to protect Nice on the way down? Would he embrace Nice to his chest as they fell together and meet their end?
Would he regret throwing his life away for someone so insignificant? Someone who never ever tried to lived?
Nice was sturdier between the two of them. Built to endure. Expected to survive. Statistically based on their Trust Value, he had the better chance of living. The fans believe he is perfect, he will never fall.Ā
The only reason he would die here at this momentĀ was because he wanted to.
The thought settled comfortably in his chest.
Nice contemplated pulling the man down with him. Just a little. A test. A final sign that there really was someone out there who wanted to save him. It was reasonable, he thought.
This man wanted to be Niceās hero, right? Heroes were always tested, werenāt they? Trust had to be proven. Sacrifice had to be mutual. If the man really meant it, really wanted to save Nice, then he would not let go. He would not discard Nice like he is a garbage.
And if he did let go, well. That would be an answer too. If he dies, he dies.
If the man proved himself, then Nice would return the favor. That was fair, right? That was how balance worked. That was how trust worked. He was not doing anything wrong. He was just checking.Ā
So Nice smiled.
Small and secretive,Ā flashed toward the manās panicked amber eyes caughtĀ in the the sunlight and burned bright, almost beautiful in its panicky state.Ā
The relief in those eyes as Niceās hand reached up, the way the manās shoulders loosened just a fraction when Niceās hand reached up and clasped his, thin and frail and shaking.
There. See? He wants to save me. Heās waiting for me.
He wants to see more.
Nice pulled.
Gravity did the rest.
The man was forced to let go of the ledge as they dropped together, air screaming past them. He swore violently, voice breaking as his hands scrambled uselessly for something that was no longer there. He cursed Nice, called him a crazy fucker, screamed at him for being insane, reckless, suicidal.
And still, his arms wrapped tighter around Nice.
One hand curled protectively over Niceās head, shielding him in a stupid, instinctive attempt to keep him safe. The other locked around his torso as the man twisted his own body beneath him, forcing Nice higher, bracing himself to take the worst of the impact. Like if he could just angle it right, he could break first.Ā Shatter alone.
Even now. Even knowing this was Niceās fault.
Something warm bloomed in Niceās chest for the first time in a long while.
See, Nice thought deliriously. He didnāt let go. He chose me.
Nice laughed.
He laughed as they fell, the sound ripped loose from his chest, wild and breathless and ugly. He clutched the man back with the same desperate fervor he had been subjected to, arms locking around him like a vice.
If he held him hard enough, would they meld together when they hit the ground? Bone and flesh forced into one shape, Ms. J would have to stitch them back together, wouldnāt she? Wouldnāt even know which parts belonged to who.
Nice found the thought exhilirating.
The man bore a resemblance to him, he realized distantly. Only his hero was painted in deeper colors, warmer tones, while Nice had always been all pale blues and whites.Ā Maybe that meant something. Maybe this was fateās sense of humor. Maybe this was the universe finally giving Nice someone who understood him.
Ā Someone willing to fall with him.
The ground rushed closer. Details sharpened. Pavement. Shapes. Shadows.
Nice tightened his grip.
āItās okay,ā he told the man cheerfully, laughing again. āIf we survive, Iāll save you next time.ā
Only when they were a breath away from splattering against the pavement, only when the manās grip tightened one last time like he truly believed this was the end, instead of pushing him away, did Nice finally spread his wings and fly.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/78729341
Baldjiu
From my fic In pursuit of power
Ofc his baldness is only gonna live in his nightmares
Banners I did
Legit I got sidetracked and next thing I know I am dong this sh
Chibi art practice
Chibi practice
btw my old user was patchirisuu--but my mom struggles to pronounce it so idk it does feels moutfull so I just decided to pick 2 names in my whole name (I have 3 FN btw, 27 letters total)
On another topic, I lost all my files in procreate lol. So my finished artworks aren't saved. Ill try retrieving them but procreate sucks cuz they have no trash
chat for a sticker/keychain is it much better for a full body? or half body? I wanna do all my chibi stickers like this but then again I don't want to suffer unnecessary hell with their complicated designš
half body
full body
new uniforms
Littlest Shinra advance Christmas date
Babyroth searches for the perfect tree, ties a mistletoe to it, and then, in his matter-of-fact tone, informs Cloud that the two of them now have to share a kiss under it because it is an important tradition.
I'm like, hey what if I animate it?
*proceeds to suffer in confusion for 2 hours trying to understand animation mechanics in procreate*
*Got fixated on the snow and trying to make it look natural*
*only liking how the animation of the mistletoe turned out*
*realize I got side tracked again in learning a new thing instead of sticking to my hobby--write*
Babyroth searching for the perfect tree and tying a mistletoe and using his matter-of-fact tone that Cloud and him got to share a kiss now under it as it is an important tradition
https://archiveofourown.org/works/64346185?view_full_work=true
Littlest Shinra and his future enemy (husband) part-1 - Toddler Stage
ik the other leg kinda wonky but its baggy(and the arm...)! Sefikura sketch that i was too excited to share but i promise ill fix it
Im also trying to revive my twitter to post more sketch there--Looking for moots!