#ANYWAY HE WILL BE A STICKER

[loadingbones]

✨ good luck high five before a fight

Edit: if u check my reblogs on this there is also a Doll sticker!

[oldkamelle]

Do you ever get stuck in a routine of the past?

[musubiki]

danmarch 🐉💎

[sammysammer]

I draw this rabbit-man too much

[tearystarz]

I couldn't resist showing a wip of these sticker designs AHHHHHSHA Since Bryan played Dress To Impress on roblox i knew i had to make this!!!!💅💅 Such baddies fr fr

Link to finished drawing!!

[venomgaia]

once again, I was possessed by a beast of some sort to make a sticker, this time of the rabbit variety! Get your own grown ass man who goes "Kuwaboo" here on redbubble!

[pup-pee]

SO I MIGHTVE GOTTEN A BIT INSPIRED BY THIS POST

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]

{☆} characters neuvillette, wriothesley, furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.

After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?

Not them, evidently.

He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.

He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.

It had kept him up for days.

The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.

He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.

It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.

He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.

Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.

His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.

The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.

The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.

"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"

His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.

His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.

He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.

Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.

He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.

For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.

And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.

He's not sure what he sees is better, though.

Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.

So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?

It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.

Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.

The throne of the world was a lie.

The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.

He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.

He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.

"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.

"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.

Huh.

They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.

"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."

"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."

He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."

"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."

He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.

"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.

"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.

"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.

"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.

"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."

He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.

[cozylittleartblog]

i dont know how i didn't think to make a sticker out of her until somebody outright asked for it a couple weeks back, but here you go, queen sticker. (stickers ship free in the US! 💙)

[hyohaehyuk]

via earwolf (jacob anderson on TV, I Say w/ Ashley Ray) and Den of Geek SDCC interview

Jacob talked about him and Sam going to universal studios and spending 40 minutes in a sticker shop + the IWTV cast spilling the beans about Jam dates and Sam mentioning sticker play (whatever that means 🙃)

Sam: "It's a team effort" Rolin: "JACOB AND SAM GO BOWLING TOGETHER" Sam: "And ice cream and sticker play… Interviewer: Care to elaborate? 🤨 Sam: Make it up" 💀

[hplonesomeart]

Here you go fellow gays enjoy some tranquil scenery with the favorite fruity robot ever. Spend a late night chatting with him on a balcony as the laughter rings out in the air. Can’t quite get any better then this

[cnth-rb]

Edgy boyfriends or whatever

[artkaninchenbau]

Egghead chibs lesgooo ✌️✨

[lordzuuko]

Gojou Satoru taking a photo with his kouhai he so totally do not have a crush on, he swears! Print | Ko-fi

[fbfh]

Hi, how are you?? Currently can't get Logan's sexy ass surprising me with a Birkin out of my head, if you could write something with this that would be amazing!!! Love ya sm btw.

BABES ISTG WE ARE ON THE SAME WAVE LENGTH. literally Logan is so hnnnng. you just wanna bite him. he wants to bite you. you're catching up between classes and he very casually goes "oh, I think this is for you, ace..." and hands you this bigass orange shopping bag. you look at him and he watches you fight a smile.

"go on, open it." he encourages, surprised at how excited he is to see what you think. You dig through the tissue paper and pull out a huge orange box wrapped in black ribbons, and within that is the most beautiful bag you've ever seen. you've drooled over them in fleeting moments, an ad here, a magazine there, but you never ever thought you would have one. at least not so soon. you're still in college, and now you're holding a crisp, fresh birkin that smells like new leather and cold department store air.

"oh... my god!" you exclaim. he starts to ask if you like it, even though he knows you do. before he can get the words out, you've thrown your arms around him hugging him more tightly than ever.

"oh my god I love it! thank you-" you exclaim, your voice muffled into his neck as you punctuate your gratitude with kisses. he laughs. he actually lets out a giggling, bubbling laugh. he can't remember the last time he laughed like that, felt like this. if you start to feel guilty, or like you couldn't possibly accept it, he'll stop you right there. "if you keep that up, I'll buy you one in every color." and it works because of course it does. it's Logan.

that almost immediately becomes your favorite bag. you use it every day for everything. Logan watches in loving admiration as it follows you on dates, on nights at his place, nights at yours. he watches fondly as the leather grows less stiff, as it gets little wrinkles and crinkles. he watches as you tie a ribbon onto the handle, and later when some stickers show up on the side. he loves ever sign of wear and tear, ever sticker and stain and keychain it collects, becuase each new mark means you've spent more and more time together.

normally time progressing spent with one person would freak him out. it would make him feel suffocated, get itchy feet. but not with you. not with your birkin. he starts looking forward. he's determined to make it to the day, to be the one to replace it for you when you decide it's finally on its last legs. he wonders if that's what marriage feels like, what it's like to start a family. to feel so nostalgic for how things were but so eager to how things will be, all while soaking up every moment of exactly how they are.

he thinks he could do that. he wants to do that. with you.

[neunhofferart]

Do you know the reason why Kenji has so many boxes in his trailer?

My first assumption is that he just moved or he keeps his climbing gear in there.

Thnaks

He ordered too many of his 'You Kon Climb Too' bumper stickers in bulk lol