#...eventually

[minhtblue]

Let’s Carry VBS!: Toya Edition

(Akito Edition) (An Edition) (Kohane Edition)

[unwri-ten]

Hiii! Your LMK OC is really pretty, can you tell me more about them? I'm interested

Ohhh my goddd where do I even begin,,,, WELL OKAY- [CW || mentions of death , and violence]

This is Gayang! They're about a thousand years younger than the two (idiot) simians and also named Yuma/Yu (Though no one really uses that name except a few people) Most people knew them as a celestial guard that had connections to the Jade Emperor, and one who traveled to many parts of the Celestial and Mortal realms for their travels as an outstretch of heaven's influence.

I think from my posts it's obvious who they ended up befriending and/or who they got close to,,,,,, But other than shadowpeach, they were close with Nezha as they got paired together a lot for missions and excavations, Gayang had a 'lost dog' vibe to them, most notably being known for being aloof for everything other than the battlefield, though said innate curiosity and lack of social sense made them befriend odd characters (cough) They weren't known for having extra-ordinary abilities like Wukong but had a talent for wielding all kinds of weaponry, alongside their strangely keen sense of foresight and intuition. And as for whoever caught on that I keep using past-tense, well- I can't really divulge the grit of what happened to them just yet HAHA I like keeping suspense on those things <333 unfortunately, But I hope it's a start! I appreciate the interest on my lil guy, they're the best <333

[inkclover]

What would Scarab's reaction be when he saw Nightmo for the first time?

" ... curious."

nightmo on the other hand...

[somegrumpynerd]

Y'know when a cat falls asleep on you and you can't move? That rule also applies to henchmen and now Nightmare is trapped. Kind of a part 2 to this

At least Lyra is having fun

[chengfagshi]

The urge to see Cheng Xiaoshi and Nayuta Yatonokami outfit swap (same JP VA).

[neattnat]

[calciumdreams]

happy horror :D

[doodles-of-a-nerd-kid]

I liked the short Tilde lineless art so much i drew older Tilde in that style right after

...why is this the only finished art of him ever

[sanguineerose]

is it even an itafushi fic if megumi doesn't have severe depression and/or abandonment issues?

[theonetruegnome]

Everybody! Look at the amazing artwork @smilingcrittersthingig did for me of Creepycorn with Mana's parents! It's so sweet!

They are such a great artist, please give all credit to the original creator.

[jazz-kitty]

hey. as i approach the end [AUTHORS NOTE: END OF CHAPTER 15. KARMA FILES (is that what its called?) IS AN UNKNOWN LENGTH THAT WILL LIKELY STILL TAKE ME MONTHS ANYWAYS. JUST FUTURE PROOFING HERE.] of rejuv, ummm. i like looking at things. blogs even. images perhaps. fan fictions even.

interact with this post in some way [like, comment, reblog, i dont care so long as its something i can check later] if i can scroll through your blog like some deep sea creature and probably mass reblog ur rejuv stuff when i can finally see it 🦭✌️

blocking the rejuv tag is LONELY...

[bisexualenbyblueberry]

After careful consideration, I've put my live reaction notes into a few different categories:

Hardly even commentary, just stating what's going on like a bad reaction YouTuber (Not included: me retyping dialogue)

2. Saying things that COULD be analyzed deeper, but because of my tiredness, lack of attention span and just critical thinking skills in general are just me saying things

3. Complete, indecipherable nonsense. IN MY DEFENSE, I got a grand total of two hours of sleep AND while I was typing, I was watching the show so I wasn't paying attention to what I was writing. And sometimes I would accidentally click onto the french or emoji keyboard without realizing.

4. Thoughts that are in between being post-worthy and just being the first category again

5. Theories that immediately disproved themselves as I typed them

6. The girls are fighting. I said this three times

7. "RAQUEL OMG WHAT HAVE YOU DONE" I said this twice

and yes I know the majority of this is typos but. I was tired and looking away what can I say

[answer2jeff]

NARROW THOUGHTS : TRAILER.

CARMEN x READER PREVIEW!!!

Warnings: FLUFF, Clingy!Carmen × Reliable!Reader, NOT quite an established relationship, soooo much fluffy fluff. romance with a bit of plot, ZERO use of yln, reader is implied female but little to no use of specific pronouns, mention of the nickname "Pico," short for "Piccola" ; small (young) in italian

official fic here: part one.

this is just a trailer, actual fic is still a work in progress!! feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated :)

wc: 672, English is not my first language, expect mistakes.

You were cold, your jacket soaking wet from the Chicago rain as you made your way onto the L. Your mouth felt dry, your stomach dropping to your feet when you realized you hadn't checked on Carmen all day — and hardy at all that entire week. You figured you didn't have to stress over your absence too much, but a text wouldn't hurt.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, your eyes glancing over it as you tried to find Carmy's contact through the static in your brain.

Hey. 11:34pm

Haven't seen you in a bit. Did you get home okay? 11:35pm

Your fingers frantically danced around the keyboard, your leg bouncing as you waited for a response. You needed something to calm your nerves. That feeling in your empty belly told you something wasn't right; you must've missed something. 'Fomo,' you called it.

Meanwhile, Carmen was taking his first steps into his apartment for that night, the cold air conditioning doing nothing to provide any comfort from the Chicago cold. He felt his phone vibrate once against his pocket, not thinking to check who it might've been as he tossed his baseball cap onto the couch; until it vibrated a second time.

He fished his phone out from the depths of his pocket, the blue-light shining against his face; your contact name, 'Pico' showing up twice. He removed his wool jacket, letting it fall onto the couch before setting his phone down and peeling off his tight-fitting, white t-shirt and taking a seat on the couch. Carmen held his phone between his hands, his leg bouncing as he thought of what could've justified you texting him after being out of touch with one another, practically all week. But he opened the text.

Just got home. You still on the L? 11:45pm.

He put a hand over his mouth, grazing his thumb over his cheek as he thought of the distance you two experienced. You hadn't visited The Beef all week, you hadn't asked him or Richie for help moving the furniture into the vintage thrift shop that you planned on opening in just 4 weeks.

You licked your lips as you stepped into your apartment, the warm glow from your kitchen making you feel comfortable... and it was empty. Too empty, now that you could afford your place and didn't split rent with your co-worker, Ashley, anymore. You were used to having Carmen here every once and a while, discussing business plans, leaving a jacket or two, but this week was lonely.

You and Carmen knew each other once: two aspiring hotshots in New York City, working alongside each other at the best restaurant on the planet, but this was now. You liked the simplicity of your soon to be vintage coffee shop. Just a little over a year ago, you'd come home with dry, calloused fingers and bits of onion under your finger nails that would burn your eyes later. You couldn't take it anymore. Not after what the head chef put you and Carmen through for the very last time. You left, never considering that Carmen would've returned for any particular reason; but there he was, in Chicago, just 15 minutes away from you by car, fixing up 'mom and dads piece of shit' that his late brother passed onto him.

And something deep in your stomach urged you to see him.

Just tonight. It won't be weird, right? Just two adults trying to catch up on each others lives, like good people, with the little bit of free time they both had.

You felt like you practically owed him a chunk of your leisure. It was the least you could do.

Literally just got off lol. 11:52pm

Can you come over? Just wanna catch up. 11:56pm

You replied, your nails against your teeth as you stared at your phone, waiting impatiently for a response. You stood in your living room, with one of Richie's 'original beef' t-shirts and grey sweatpants, the TV on with no sound emitting from it, and just a little bit of desire in your body: making the tips of your fingers tingle.

[mer-turtlez]

How did Draxum think that gold fish were dangerous?

Those fish don't have thoughts behind those eyes-

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi can I please request a Melissa x reader where Mel is meeting the readers parents for the first time and perhaps the reader doesn’t have a good relationship with her mom and her mom keeps making snarky comments about the age difference and that rlly upsets Melissa and the reader can tell so the next time the readers mum does it she shouts at her mom and they end up having an argument and then the reader grabs Mel and they storm out and maybe when they get home the reader breaks down at Mel comforts her. Also based of what happened when I took my bf home 😂😂. Tysm

You've been very patient with this request - which has been loitering with intent in my inbox for a while now! As promised, it was not forgotten. I hope this was what you were hoping for and that you enjoy it!

~*~

You’re both nervous.  You’re trying your best not to let your own nerves show, but you know by the supportive smile being aimed at you that you’re failing badly.  You know Melissa is trying just as hard to hide her own nerves by the way she fidgets, toying with anything in reach from the napkin to her necklaces to your bracelet. 

The restaurant is neither of your favourites, and chosen for that reason specifically.  You know there’s a good chance tonight isn’t going to go down well and you don’t want to ruin one of your favourite places to eat with bad memories.  You hope it won’t.  That your mother will see how happy you are with Melissa, and maybe just for once, she’ll play nice.  You’re not counting on it though.

You’ve warned Melissa multiple times tonight might not end well.  You’ve apologised for feeling as though you have to warn her.  Every time you’ve told her, she’s been nothing but patient with you, telling you she understands difficult family dynamics, reassuring you that whatever happens she’s not going anywhere. 

Seeing your mother enter the restaurant, you take a deep breath, motioning to Melissa as she approaches.

“Are we still waiting for your girlfriend?”

You frown at the greeting, as you stand to meet your mother.  Turning towards Melissa, you find her halfway out of her own chair.  She’s blatantly at the same table as you, and hasn’t yet run for the hills so why…

“Oh sweetheart, she isn’t a girl,” sneers your mother.  “She hasn’t been a girl for long time.”

Your mouth opens in shock.  You hadn’t exactly expected hugs and kisses, but this?  “This is Melissa.  The woman I love,” you manage, through clenched teeth as your hand finds the red head’s arm, a silent plea for her to stay. 

“You’ve never exactly had the best taste,” quips your mother as she takes the seat opposite you.

Half sitting, half falling back into your own seat you offer Melissa an apologetic look, your fingers gently brushing over the exposed skin of her forearm.  You can see your mother’s comments have riled her, but you also know her well enough to see that behind her stern expression, there’s hurt in her eyes too.

The age gap between you isn’t inconsiderable, and you know it sometimes plays on the red head’s mind.  For you, it’s never been all that much of an issue.  Since the day you met her you’ve always found her the most beautiful woman in any given room, and when she finally let you get to know her, you realised you found her personality just as attractive.  You love her.  All of her. 

For her part, Melissa tries her best to suppress the urge to lean over the table and unceremoniously drag your mother across it by her neck.  You had told her, quite a number of times, that this might not go well, but she hadn’t expected your mother to be quite to vicious right off the bat.  Come to think of it, she wishes she had one of hers. 

*

You had hoped that after your mother’s horrid opening gambit the evening might improve.  Instead, it only gets worse.  You’ve barely even ordered and already you want to cry, scream and inflict serious bodily harm with the cutlery. 

Melissa excuses herself to the bathroom.  She flashes you a quick, forced, smile before she does, honestly not wanting to leave you to face your mother alone, but needing a moment to collect herself.  She wants to scream and shout and raise her fists, but she won’t.  She knows your relationship with your mother is tenuous at best and she won’t do anything to make it worse.  That doesn’t mean that every awful comment aimed at you that she doesn’t shoot down doesn’t cause guilt to build in her chest.  It also doesn’t mean that the barbed comments aimed at her don’t hurt. 

She glares at herself in the mirror, trying by sheer force of will to stop the tears falling from her eyes.  She knows you don’t believe any of the words coming from your mother’s mouth.  She does know.  She knows because she knows you. 

She’s watched tonight as you’ve tried to be patient.  As you’ve quietly countered every insult thrown at her, trying not to make a scene but making it clear that you’re firmly with Melissa and no amount of derogatory comments is going to change that.

She manages a small smile in the mirror.  You love her.  You’ll get through this.  A little bruised and sore, sure, but together.

Exiting the bathroom, she’s within hearing distance of the table just in time to hear your mother throw out her latest taunt; “Sure you don’t want to check she hasn’t broken a hip, the time she’s taking?”

Pausing, she takes a deep breath, biting down the retort that threatens to spill from her lips.  It’s during this moment she sees you stand, planting your hands on the table.

“You know what?” you shout, no longer caring about making a scene.  “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this, and I should never have subjected Melissa to you!”

You promised yourself you wouldn’t make a scene tonight, but that was before you realised your mother seemed intent on insulting Melissa at every opportunity.  “I hoped you’d see her the way I see her, as a beautiful, funny, supportive and kind girlfriend.  That you might even be happy for me but all you’ve been in mean and hurtful and she doesn’t deserve that.  She deserves the fucking world and that doesn’t include you!”

You toss your bag over your shoulder, yanking yours and Melissa’s coats from the back of your chairs before leaning down to grab the red head’s handbag.  Without looking at your mother, you turn to go and find Melissa, only to find her a few feet away, looking stunned.

Still fuelled by anger and adrenaline you stride over to her, catching her hand with your own and leading you both out of the restaurant.

“We can’t just walk out!” she hisses, not wanting you to hurt your relationship with your mother by ending tonight on such bad terms.

“We damn well can,” you tell her as you push open the door, leaving the sounds of the restaurant behind.  “I’m not sitting there listening to her insult you with every other breath!”

As you reach the parking lot, you’re beginning to run out of steam, your anger faltering as tears of frustration start to gather in your eyes.  You let go of her hand, pacing as you take a number of deep breaths, trying not to cry. 

You stop as Melissa catches your hand as you pass her once more.  “I’m sorry tonight was so shitty,” you offer, your voice barely a wobbly whisper.

“You warned me it might not go well,” she shrugs, though you know she’s trying to play it down.  You know tonight has been just as horrific for her as it has been for you.  That she’s tried to be on her best behaviour for you and you hate yourself for it. 

You let out a sigh, turning to face her, managing a sad smile as she takes your other hand and tugs you close, wrapping her arms around you.  “I didn’t think it would go quite that badly.”

Resting your head on her shoulder, you loop your arms around her waist, breathing her in.  “Can we just go home?”

-

You pull up outside Melissa’s apartment.  Home, you realise, with a small smile.  Turning to face the woman in the driver’s seat, you take a moment to just drink her in.  It’s a habit you have no intention of breaking any time soon.  “I don’t deserve you.”

She turns with a lopsided smile.  “You put up with plenty.”

So does she, you think.  Tonight more than ever before.  You start to tear up again as the evening’s events play through your mind.  “I’m so sorry about tonight.”

“You couldn’t have known she was going to say those things,” Melissa says softly.

“I shouldn’t have let her!” you quickly reply, angry with yourself all over again.  “I should have left when she made that first snarky comment!”

“You didn’t just leave when I made my first snarky comment,” smirks the red head. 

You manage a watery smile at that.

 “Come on, lets get inside and drink good wine and forget about bad people.”

You reach across and put a hand on her arm before she can leave the truck.  “You know what she was saying was all nonsense, right?”

The smile being aimed at you is forced.  You know Melissa too well not to see it. 

“Mel, seriously,” you tell her, your thumb stroking over her forearm where your hand still rests on her arm.  “You’re the kindest, bravest, more passionate woman I’ve ever known, and I love you.  I love every bit of you.”

“I love you too,” she replies, trying not to let her own tears fall.  She quickly wipes her eyes with her free hand.  “Come on, the neighbours don’t need to see us crying in the car.  They’ll think we’re breaking up!”

You’re not letting her away so easily.  “But we’re okay?  You’re okay?”

She smiles at you.  A proper smile this time.  “Yeah,” she nods.  “We’re okay and I’m okay.”  With a squeeze of your hand, she slips out of the car, coming around to your side and opening your door for you. 

“Well if it isn’t the hottest couple on the block!”

You both turn at the cheerful greeting, waving back at the elderly gentleman who lives across the street.  He’s known Melissa as a neighbour for decades, and apparently approves of you more than he has any of her previous partners.  He likes to playfully flirt with you every chance he gets, always chuckling at the raised eyebrow from the red head and winking at you when she gets possessive. 

Melissa takes your hand and grins.  Your mother might be your flesh and blood, and there’s going to be some healing from this evening on both sides, but she’s one single, small minded woman.  There are bigger, better and happier things to focus on.

“And good evening to you too, Mr Rees.”