#I started writing this months ago lol

[front-facing-pokemon]

[yujeong]

Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie 💖

a little more from alive shannon! I think I finished chapter 3 and I hate most of the last 500 words but that's for future/editing me to fix, so good luck to her, I'm moving on 🤣

prev snippet

___

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears his phone ring. It sounds too loud in the quiet of the waiting room, everyone’s eyes turn to him. He quickly fishes his phone out of his pocket and sees Shannon’s name on the screen. He picks up, gets up and goes a little further away for some semblance of privacy.

“Hi, listen, now’s not really-” he starts, whispering, but is interrupted.

“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”

“I-” he sighs, leaning against the wall. He’s not. He won’t be until he gets his best friend back. That’s not what she’s asking, though. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“How’s Buck? Is he gonna be- I’m so sorry.” she says, pity in her voice. “I just saw the news, god, that was…” she trails off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Yeah, Eddie gets that. He doesn’t know what that was, either.

“He’s in surgery now.” Eddie says, throat tight. “He should be okay. Though I don’t know about his leg.” 

“If you need anything-” she starts, and he thinks about Chris, currently staying with Carla – Eddie’s supposed to be home already. “You know I’m here.”

“I know. Uh, actually, Shan, could you maybe- could you stay with Chris tonight? I don’t want to have to ask Carla to stay too long, and I wanna stick around here. Wait for news.” he says tiredly. He knows there’s no point in being here. Buck’s in surgery, and after they’ll probably won’t be able to see him anyway, he’ll still be under anesthesia, and maybe they’ll let Maddie in. He could ask her to call him with news. Still, he wants to be here. He can’t leave, he just- he can’t. He knows everyone will leave soon, they’re all tired after the day they’ve had, and there’s no use to sit around at the hospital and wait. But he can’t leave.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck

[kittlesandbugs]

BG3: A bad thing? Characters: Baby Dark Urge (Nox, five years oldish? IDK lol) Warnings: Blood and death, of course lol, with the added spice of a twisted little child's perspective. Word Count: 782 Summary: Something comes over a child and the family dies. The child tries to process this.

The red fog clears and you feel warm. 

Warm like the puddling blood under your fingers, your own heart beating red heat in your chest, your belly. There's a fullness inside you, warm and fuzzy from your ears down to your curling your toes. Warmer than you ever felt before, even snuggled with Mum at night. 

In the light of the evening candles, you can see.  A large knife is on the floor next to you. Coated red and sticky, calling to you like the red berry jam you and Vek took from the cupboard last ten-day. Da tanned your hides good for that. The memory makes you lick your lips and fingers like before, and they taste just as sweet. As you lap them clean like a kitten, you feel warmer still. 

Slowly it goes away, and your eyes find their way to the bodies scattered on the floor like dolls. And like dolls, they aren't moving. "Mum?" Your voice shivers, too loud in the peace of falling night. "Da? Vek? Tiggy?" 

No answer. 

Are they dead? You know what dead is. You've seen it, bodies gray and gross in alleys, still, stinking in ways that pulled you closer as Mum pulled you back, blocking your view. You reach out and her skin is cool. Cooling. All that red blood oozes out of all of them, soaking the hard dirt floor. 

You did this. 

You feel very sure of that, even though you don't really remember picking up the knife. You think you should feel sadder about it. Mum was sad when her mum died. She cried a lot, held you tight like you do your dog stuffy. But Mum didn't… do this to her mum. But she's not really your mum, is she? Tiggy always said that a lot. Never let you forget it. She was being really mean this evening. It made your heart hurt, more than this, when she and Vek made you cry until Mum told them to stop. 

Wasn't fair, really. You hadn't done anything. Until you went into the kitchen. Until you did this. 

This was a bad thing you did. Wasn't it? Your head thinks it should be. Mum said you should always be kind. Da always said you shouldn't hurt people, especially your brother and sister. They were older but you were always bigger, stronger. If this was a bad thing you did, you don't think your heart should feel so good. You still feel warm and full, like you ate a feast day meal and sat in the sun. Would you feel so good if it was really a bad thing?

The answer doesn't come. You aren't sure what to do. You sit and watch them, in case they aren't really dead. In case Tiggy and Vek are playing a mean trick again. But they don't move. They can't move. You eat the sweets you can reach in the cupboard. You watch them some more. You drag a blanket from the bed and curl up next to them in the dark with your stuffy. You think you feel someone brushing your hair back as you get really sleepy, like Mum would. But it isn't her soft fingers. They're hard and a little sharp, but kind, and you hear a quiet voice as you fall deeply asleep. 

“Young master, precious fledgling, follow ever your heart.  In time, your true family will find you.”

You dream in red. 

The next day passes much the same. You watch the bodies gray. You watch them tighten. They start to smell. You eat the smoked meat in the cupboard when you get hungry. You nibble the fruit by the basin, but it's starting to sour. You sleep. You dream very red dreams. Another day passes. You aren't sure what else you should do. You've never been by yourself like this before. 

It takes three days for the smell to get so strong that the guards come to see what's causing it. They don't even ask if you did it. They don't think you could. They talk like you aren't really there, and you hear all of this. They cover the bodies. One picks you up, and they feel strong and solid like Da. You nuzzle against their soft neck, not covered by armor. Their metal covered hand rubs your back. It reminds you of the voice that first night. The guard says they're very sorry softly in your ear. You don't know why they're saying sorry to you when you are the one who made everyone dead. But you don't tell them that. 

They take you to the church orphanage. Maybe there, you'll find your true family.

[mochasucculent]

Yea idk how I haven't shared them here yet but here's some doodles of Tabitha and "Apathy" (she ain't got a name yet), the two protags of my ghost story!

Grieving after the sudden loss of her grandmother, Apathy accidentally becomes bound to the spirit of Tabitha, a young girl who was murdered in the 1870s. Stuck together in unfamiliar circumstances, the two must discover how to send Tabitha on to the afterlife, and if they even can.

UPDATEEEEEEEEE Apathy's name is Naomi :)

[alexhatessupermarketcola]

I just finished the devil and the deep blue sea for the third time and enjoyed every second.

....what do I do with myself now 😱😂

[luvbinnies]

Does anyone know ever after high??

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[kyouka-supremacy]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[your--isgayrights]

I want you to know that I think about Kim Dokja being kept awake at night by the idea of YJH using raw meat on his face to treat bruises (as seen in cartoons) every time ORV comes up on my page. Genuinely hysterical.

Yesssss ok thanks for reminding me about this anon it is like such a specific situation for them to me because like. My concept of YJH is so like 'guy literally raised by video games.'

When I was younger I knew a guy who learned how to read from playing animal crossing and YJH has something of that in him to me. like his copy of cooking mama was his first recipe book to me. I think his gamer brain is also behind his double/triple-text thread behaviors because obviously in rpgs response to player choice is always instantaneous so if someones leaving him on read he just hasn't triggered the right response sequence yet better keep trying.

Oh ok I have another friend who read a lot of fantasy as a kid and thought that like, a lot of fruits were not real fruits but instead made up for the novels they appeared in, like mango and papaya and such. but yes ok this is just the kind of energy that is part of the inspiration for some of my thoughts about 'character who is a videogame character/raised by videogames'. Like ok so you're telling me dragon fruit is real but raw steak healing bruises isn't?

[e77y]

The visceral and hungering loneliness is back. You know what that means! Bedtime

[introvert-celeste]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Steven Universe (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Amethyst & Jasper (Steven Universe), Jasper & Steven Universe Characters: Jasper (Steven Universe), Amethyst (Steven Universe), Steven Universe, Garnet (Steven Universe), Pearl (Steven Universe) Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Quartz Sisters, POV Alternating, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 2 of The Future and Beyond Summary:

Finding herself abandoned once again in the aftermath of her shattering, Jasper has no one to turn to, nowhere to go, and no will to fight. Can she move on and make her own way in the world, or will she revert back to her antagonistic ways?

[orcelito]

Did driving practice today. Actually did parallel parking practice this time, even tho I really didn't want to still. Finally got it into my head that I can maybe do this.

SO......

I have scheduled my driving test. For November 13th, 3 weeks from today.

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Writing accomplished 🥰

"Well, isn't this exciting?" Susurrus said, syrupy glee in his voice that made Bobbi press her lips together so she didn't laugh at him. "Two best buddies, off on a grand adventure!"

"Oh?" Bobbi asked, saccharine sweet with a bite of acid. She fought harder not to laugh and ruin it. "I thought you said we weren't friends."

"I— Well, that is—"

Bobbi's control slipped, and a chuckle snuck out. "Nah, nah, I'm teasing. I'm sorry."

Susurrus laughed, a gentle hum of a sound that barely qualified. "Not even five minutes together and already you are quite a different experience from Frey," he said, and though laughter lingered around the edges, the primary emotions coloring his voice eluded Bobbi.

"Well, we are different people," she pointed out.

"Yes, I suppose that has something to do with it," he shot back, teasing to match hers in his tone. "I admit, I'm quite looking forward to this."

"Really? Huh."

"Oh, don't sound so surprised. Frey is a Tanta; she relies entirely on her magic to survive out here in Athia. You, however, are completely unskilled in combat and survival."

"Hey!" He's right, but rude!

"Oh, it's not necessarily a bad thing! There may be a few advantages to being so woefully ignorant. Especially when you've me to teach you."

Bobbi huffed, not sure if she's laughing (again) or offended. "Because I don't have a whole lot to unlearn?"

"Precisely! You're a blank canvas, as it were. And I am a master of combat and survival. I can teach you everything you need to know. Like when to duck, for instance."

Fur and gold barreled in from the side and knocked her to the ground. Bobbi yelped, more from surprise than pain.

"That was a hint."

"Cute!" Bobbi snarled, and punched the monster in the eye. It got its teeth around her armored arm; she took advantage of that and shoved deeper to wedge its jaw open. Claws raked down her torso, gouged her armor but didn't penetrate. Bobbi maneuvered herself to get her feet into the monster's rib-mouth-guts and shoved.

The Breakbeast flipped onto its back long enough for Bobbi to get to her feet and draw her sword. Susurrus lurked in the back of her awareness, assessing though not judging. Let him; the monster took precedence. She made one step towards it before it got back to its feet, a hissing, garbled roar torn from its warped throat.

"Left," Susurrus warned, calm but urgent enough to draw Bobbi's attention. A glance showed a second beast running in from that direction, but that glance took her eyes off the first too long. A snarl warned her. She gripped her sword in both hands and stepped forward to meet the monster's lunge, dragged the tip of her blade up through fur and gilded bone. Step to the side as the monster sailed by, barely more than nicked. The second barreled through where she'd stood; on instinct Bobbi kicked at it. Knocked off course, it slammed into the first monster, and a short scuffle distracted them as they worked to disentangle from each other.

Both creatures leapt at the same time. Following a silent direction from Susurrus, Bobbi stepped to one side and raised her sword, turned with the creature's leap to slice open its haunch. Without missing a beat, she turned to the second and brought the edge of her blade down on its neck. The severed head fell to the ground and disintegrated with the body as the living creature renewed its attack.

"Use this," Susurrus suggested. Metal slithered over Bobbi's hand to wind around the hilt and blade of her sword. She took Susurrus seriously, and lunged. Gold and steel bit into the beast's side and it let out an ear-piercing scream—and crumbled into dust and embers. Sensation swept along Bobbi's nerves, invigorating and almost pleasant.

"What—" Bobbi gasped. She shook her arm to rid it of the tingles left behind by whatever Susurrus did.

He hummed, satisfaction in the sound. "Just a little trick. How are you feeling?"

"Good," Bobbi said without hesitation. Then she hesitated. "That's weird."

[davekitties]

just wrote 2.5k words 💪 writer's block WHO?????

[cerealmonster15]

truly part of why most things i show or whatever r sketchy doodles i did in one sitting is that it is always a race against the clock when im doing something before The Evil takes over and eats me. i get stressed about if i try to actually make something pretty bc i know i cant lol, and if i take too long [staring nervously at the google docs i keep opening and closing] on a fic it's harder to finish bc i start Thinking about it too much and if it's any good or if it's cringe or What Ever