#and they;re just like :( at each other

[huginsmemory]

Been thinking about how Bill legitimately had a horrifying reason (the literal progressive disintegration of the nightmare realm that erases whatever it disintegrates from existence completely) to move himself and his crew into a new dimension. Like that's terrifying. And yet he never utilizes this to his favour. He could have been honest about this with Ford, and you KNOW as long as Bill didn't mention plans of overtaking the earth, Ford would've made the portal for him, both out of Ford's own interest and because Ford when faced with these big moral questions will pull through. But this is a card Bill NEVER plays because although he needs to leave the dimension, he cannot lose face. He can't put aside his pride and admit to the humility that he needs to flee from his dimension, that he's not actually all powerful. And so instead he pretends to be a muse and when Ford figures out something else is going on, instead of being open and humble and saying that his dimension is unravelling, Bill focuses on that he's going to over take earth, that he's actually been a monster all along, surprise Ford!

And part of it is definitely because Bill's built himself up on power and violence and to grovel and earnestly ask for help, to admit that he cannot stop the unraveling of his dimension completely invalidates that; showing vulnerability? Can't do that, even under the guise of lying to get his way. And part of it makes you wonder if it's also a form of self-sabotage, because underneath his deep denial Bill is guilty over what he occurred; he sees himself as a monster and so he'll be that monster, and having people recognize that feels good in the same way that pressing a bruise feels good. But it makes you wonder what would've happened if Bill even just was open about his dimension unravelling and had lied about overtaking the earth.

It's also interesting because although Bill has SOME charisma and can manipulate people decently well (as evidenced by his cult, and pandering to people's desires with Ford, Mabel and Blendin), he refuses to be vulnerable, refuses to not be true to his off-putting self, even when if he was just vulnerable of pretended to not be himself, to put aside the (false) pride he has in himself he would've gotten a portal by now. and part of me wonders if it's because it's this false pride that built on insecurity and denial on who he is he cannot drop that mask.

Further thoughts on this!

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[cgerice]

Been four years, time for this again.

With the trajectory these redraws are going, Merlin and Gwaine are going to end up just,,, making out. Full on sloppy style right in front of Arthur.

And honestly? Good for them they deserve it lmao

[spkyart]

It's not my fault y'all ugly

[tzarrz]

to all people who said PART 1 made them laugh - i lov u 💗 this is for u

[ryllen]

if they ended it peacefully, i want to see more 9s with a2

[casualavocados]

The Fan family has tried to harm Bai Zongyi many times. I gotta be on guard to protect myself.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 10

[starflungwaddledee]

realised with my last comic that it's been a hot minute since i drew The Original Wanyas together and i missed them a lot, so here's some sunshiney waddle dees!

also submitting this one as propaganda for the @kirbyoctournament! starstruck has made it all the way to the grand finals, but she's falling behind and could use your vote!! >>> consider voting for her here! <<<

[magenta-somethings]

if timkon watched the princess bride it would result in a solid three months of tim's requests for kon's help opening with 'farm boy' & kon replying with 'as you wish' every single time & everyone would be sick of their shit

[azul-marie]

ada. (enamour)

fem. reader. love rivalry including ada/reader/leon. (focus on reader)

something cold digs in between your shoulder blades, sending shivers up tense muscles.

it’s a sudden sensation. catches you off guard you forget to call out to leon, whose back is turned to you whilst sifting through paper files laying across an abandoned wooden desk. the latest room you’ve snuck into seemed abandoned enough — save for its open window rocking back and forth on screeching bolts. they must’ve entered through there mere seconds before the two of you did.

warm, sweet breath tickles your earlobe. another round of shivers overtake your senses. this time, through, you recover quickly enough to react.

your hand flies to your pocketed blade and in an instant is pressed up to their throat. it is then you realize, recognize who your company is. she smiles serenely at you, acting like the knife at her neck isn’t sharp enough to slice through bone. she bears her pistol with all the grace of someone who’s caught you in her web, not the other way around.

“long time no see, kitten.”

her deadpan voice practically echoes through the silence of the night. finally surprising your partner into turning around. what surprises him further is the way ada gazes at you, almost identical to the way she did at him all those years ago.

“ada.” leon says plainly, hand hovering over his own pistol. his eyes flicker between the two of you, to the way your hand fumbles with your blade, to how she smiles a little too suggestively for someone being threatened. he’s certain you’re about to push her down, or for her to knock the knife away from your obviously loosened grip — neither happen.

instead, you carefully tuck your blade away and greet her with a coy smile of your own.

“i wasn’t expecting you here, red.” your arms cross, a guard of sorts. you knew full well of the games she liked to play. she holds your eyes as she slips her pistol back in its holster, searching for something you refuse to show. it’s been a long time, indeed, but you still remember how to compose yourself around her. it’s all rather flattering.

ada circles you, trailing her fingertips over your shoulders. her silky touch is the only weapon in her grasp, but it is perhaps her most dangerous. she takes pleasure in the way you shift beneath her watch, how your pretty face fights to remain mild. she’s no fool. she sees the smile playing at those luscious lips of yours — why bother hiding it? she’s all sultry eyes just for you, now that she’s finally managed to separate your stuffy partner’s hip from yours. seems he hadn’t changed after all. he really was the clingy type.

it was cute. once. not when he happened to be clingy with you of all people.

“once i heard you were around, i just couldn’t help myself.” her arm comes to rest around the curve of your waist. her fingers press into the flesh of your hip, easing you closer. her lips hover over the soft of your neck, almost kissing a path up to your ear. your breathing stutters, and she purrs, “wanted to stop by and catch up with my favorite girl, is all.”

you scoff, but there’s no stopping the heat rising up and over your face. those pretty lips of yours finally turn up in a smile, bashful like a schoolgirl crush. the temptation to run her thumb over your bottom lip runs strong — until an awkward, intentional clear of a throat interrupts the thought.

“i’d appreciate if you left my partner alone.” leon interjects, striding to stand tall besides you. in a swift motion he interweaves your elbows together and pulls you towards him, at once halting the hold she had on you. it’s a comfortable, possessive sort of touch. how quaint. cute little leon, still wearing his heart on his sleeve.

given the way his hand clamps around yours, he must really have it bad. what a shame. for him.

ada is slow to drag her eyes away from you. she even runs them up, down, over your lovely body for good measure. she can’t have leon thinking she isn’t willing to compete — two can play at that game. his fuming glower tells her he’s gotten the message loud and clear. as he should. she zeros in on the way his grip tightens around yours, again, cozily touching you as if you were his.

a quirk of her brow suggests ire. “glad to see you, leon. to think, after all this time, you’re still such a lucky man. who would’ve thought she’d end up being your partner?”

the two of them stare each other down with such intensity you wonder what other history they share aside from you. tension seeps into the chill of the nighttime air. leon’s coiled up so tightly it raises worry, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bicep to placate him. for all you know, the mysterious plagas infecting him could thrive off stress, and he’s already had plenty of that so far.

almost immediately does your touch have him redirecting his notice towards you. his intense gaze softens at your pretty eyes studying him. his broad shoulders gradually relax in your embrace. he’s visibly calmed by the simple act, much to ada’s amusement — and her vexation. her fingertips dig into her palms, wishing it was your hands beneath them instead.

“ada, why are you really here?” you inquire, and she’s pleased when you finally set sights back on her. she’s not fond of the questioning, however. she purses her lips. her expression morphs into a cautious neutral. you’re aware you won’t be getting a direct answer, no matter how much she likes you.

ada sighs, “oh, sweetheart. you know i don’t work and tell.”

guarded, she saunters to the opposite end of the room to the very window she slithered in through, overlooking the bleak scenery with little interest. you slip past leon to follow after her, grasping her fingers to keep her from going any further. pleasant warmth seeps through from your fingertips to hers. there’s no time to relish it, although she longs to feel more. calculating eyes regard you and you alone.

“leave the girl,” demands ada. “she’s lost no matter what. you walk away now…and who knows? maybe you’ll live to meet me again.”

keeping her eyes locked on yours, she brings your hand to her lips, and presses a languid kiss across your knuckles. a stain of red now marks you as hers. play glimmers in her irises. “…maybe i’ll even take you on that date i promised.”

“you think we’re gonna give up that easy?” leon’s voice cuts in, weighed with barely contained venom.

“right.” ada exhales a laugh. how true. the two of you really are perfect for one another. hearts of gold, heads full of dreams. she turns towards a silently seething leon, whose eyes pierce her every move. he does a poor job at hiding his envious glare towards your entwined hands. “how about we continue this discussion another time?”

she drops your hand unceremoniously, in favor of pressing a kiss to your cheek. the pulse of your racing heart is nearly tangible. such a sweet girl, flustered by a simple kiss. longing parts her lips in their journey up to your ear to whisper, “stay safe, beautiful.” she pulls away with an air of nonchalance, committing to memory the clear look of shock she’s frozen you into. it takes all she has not to go back in for another kiss, for there’s no knowing where her lips will land if she does.

“keep her safe for me, will you, leon? she’s really quite precious, you know.”

and just like that, she’s gone.

you nearly stumble towards the creaking window for a vain glimpse into the night she’s disappeared through. half shocked, half mortified of your audience still gaping at you, you could only hope he wasn’t put off by the instance of his flirty adversary. or the fact you had no quarrels in encouraging her.

a hand wraps around yours, warm and tight.

“careful. leaning out a little too far there, don’t you think?”

leon sounds rather relieved now that it’s back to being the two of you. ada must’ve been a sore sight for whatever reasons he’s held within. you avoid his eyes to recollect yourself, murmuring apologies beneath your breath.

then, a touch upon your cheek, the very one she’d kissed, puts a stop to all thoughts. your eyes flutter up towards leon’s. his usually somber expression has turned sour, scowling and scorned in a way you’re unfamiliar with. his hand cups your face, thumb frantically rubbing off what must be a lipstick stain ada’s left behind. the intensity of his eyes only adds to your embarrassment, makes you wish he hadn’t seen her in the first place. maybe then he wouldn’t be upset, angry with the ghost of her presence.

“here i thought luis would be my only problem.” leon mutters, so softly you’d mistaken he’d spoken at all. when he notices the shift in your pretty eyes, the sweetsoft concern that struck him weak, his gaze mellows instantly, and he blinks rapidly as if coming out of a daze. rose pink springs across his face in a blooming blush, a bigger surprise than his supposed anger. he rips his hand away upon realizing himself, leaving you curious.

“i mean—i meant, she’s the last person i expected to run into here. it’s—it’s a long story. won’t bore you with it. just know she’s probably not worth trusting completely. it’s best you’re careful around her. i’d hate…i wouldn’t want you hurt.”

his voice goes quiet at the end. his head is turned away, body tight and tense, hands fiddling with the holsters of his weapons. it isn’t like leon to speak so personally. so openly about his emotions. and you know it isn’t because of ada’s mere presence, what must be a recollection of the past.

you touch your cheek, still warm from his skin.

“you’re the one i trust, leon. we came here together, and we’re leaving together. i’m with you until the end.”

courage overtakes bashful notions. you close in beside him, reach up to push a lock of his hair behind his ear. cup his shying face, a tender encouragement to share his vulnerability with you. leon’s eyes fall back on yours too easily, too swiftly for a simple friendship. you see it; he is incapable of masking it.

it’s somewhat of an honor he’s so fond of you. it’s a reminder to be gentle with his feelings, though you yourself may not have yours sorted out just yet. but it is ascertained that you care immensely for him, perhaps in the way he’d like you to. perhaps not. there’s plenty of time to work things out.

“i’m with you, ace.” you smile, tugging his cheek until he returns one of his own. “there’s no one else i’d rather have beside me. got it?”

leon nods, convinced. “yeah. thanks.”

you pay a playful pat to his cheek, satisfied with his answer. “good, good. now, why don’t we get moving? we wouldn’t want to keep miss ashley waiting. what were we even looking for in the first place? some kind of key?”

the mention of the mission reinvigorates him. “yeah, exactly. should be somewhere around here, if you can help me look.”

“sure! let’s just hope we can get by without someone interrupting again.”

“wouldn’t that be nice.” scoffs leon, slipping his fingers through yours to lead you back towards the other half of the room. this habit of wanting you close was really too cute. willingly do you allow him to take your hand as he pleases.

all the while you will your heart not to flutter at the lipstick still staining the other, red on red alike.

[mothmore]

on my knees sobbing crying throwing up thinking about the love and kindness and friendship between the dracula main characters

[saphirdevil]

so cute

[chernabogs]

EXECRATE

Inc: Meleanor, Raverne, Mallegg/Egglleus, Lilia mention Warnings: None; just a dad being ready to bat for his wife and kid WC: 1.9k Summary: Execrate: To be denounced; to be declared evil

“Have you seen the latest information?”

The question is posed in an innocuous enough manner that he looks up from the scrolls without a second thought. The guard holds out an avisa, a hand-written documentation of news circling Briar Nation in the past week. Raverne accepts the paper with a frown as he flips it over to read.

For the most part, it consists of propagandistic filth. A litany of lies regarding the ongoing disputes in the mines and in the deforestation of the nation. Claims in human villages that the fae are trying to drive their population out and claims in the fae villages that the humans are doing likewise. These are all issues that have been discussed to the point of exhaustion in the courts with nothing set in stone, meaning there was no release from the family to quell the fears. He skims it more before shaking his head, ready to hand it back to the guard with a gentle explanation that he knows all of this already before the last section of the avisa catches his eye.

Letter to the scribe. An opinion section that grants the literate of Briar Nation an opportunity to express thoughts. Usually these were words from the priests, or fellow scribes, or the political esteem looking to brighten their own reputation among the masses. This one, however, boldly stated in all uppercase across the front: OF THE DRACONIA FAMILY. 

“Oh dear,” he murmurs quietly as he shifts the avisa to see the section more clearly. The first line (History is abound with clear examples of negligent rulers, and it is a pity for Briar Nation to be classified in that section—) causes his eyebrow to raise. The next paragraph, which serves to be a venomous dissection of the family's history, present policies, and apparent future intentions causes both eyebrows to raise. However, it’s when he reaches the section that begins to meticulously document the faults of his wife and his unborn child that he finally crumples the avisa up into a white-knuckled hold. 

Raverne is not a man to become temperamental. Many would argue that, out of the three ‘leaders’ of Briar Nation, he’s the most genial anyone can run into. 

He is not feeling genial right now. 

“Do we know who the scribe for this avisa is?” He asks. His voice is calm in the same way the ocean is moments before a tsunami rips apart a coastal town. The guard scratches beneath their mask and shakes their head. The scribes of the papers work in organizations that individuals can petition to receive from, subbing to the scribe, in a sense. The organization is unlikely to give up any names, even at the request of royal authority.

“We could try and find the author of the opinion piece, but it may take us a while.” The guard offers. It’s a tempting proposition. Raverne can feel the thrum of his pulse in his ears as he unfurls the avisa to read the section again. Execration. It’s an ugly word befitting of the ugly meaning it carries. He knows his wife is a temperamental woman, prone to fits of anger and costing the royal family more than a few medical tabs in the past. She is not evil, however. His wife is a woman who cares deeply for those close to her, cares deeply for her people, and is more than willing to give up her entire existence for the betterment of the nation.

He’s already had to stop her a few times himself from doing so. 

“It would be pointless to waste efforts on that.” He sighs, finally setting the avisa down to look back at the maps scattered around him. He runs his hand over his face and can feel the twinge of a migraine beginning to dig into his temple. With a shake of his head, he dismisses the guards and begins to tidy up the mess before him. They have more important things to concern themselves with then a few choice words. A delegation was to be sent to the human encampment soon, with himself at the lead, and that was the main priority for now. Paper slander could be dealt with by the courtiers. 

__________________________________

It’s far later than anticipated by the time Raverne finally returns to his chambers. Despite this, he can see the flicker of candlelight from beneath the door, indicating that he isn’t the only one pulling a near all-night event. The faintest of smiles touches his lips as he quietly opens the door to step into the room. 

“I was wondering when you would emerge from your office.” Meleanor’s low voice is tinged with amusement as she remains at her vanity, not looking up from the letter she appears to be furiously writing. Their egg is wrapped in numerous blankets (ten, if he’s counting correctly) by the window, which is slightly ajar to let the summer breeze drift inside. “I was tempted to send a search party.”

“Oh, I hardly think I am worth riling up that pack of dogs.” He chuckles as he closes the door before tossing his overcoat onto the bed. The gesture earns him a sidelong glance from his wife, which he quickly eases with a kiss to her cheek. “I missed you.” 

“You miss me when we are apart for more than five minutes.” 

“Perfectly reasonable, if you ask me.” He counters. Despite her words, she can’t conceal the pleased smile that touches her lips as she signs her name to the letter. He leans against her back, his arms wrapping around her as he reads what she’s addressing. 

A detailed informational piece to be sent back to Blackscale regarding the tensions brewing in the surrounding regions. If she knows about the rumours regarding humans driving out fae and vice versa, then odds are that she, too, has read the recent avisa. The prospect of her reading the foul-mouthed comments regarding her status and that of their child sits unwell in Raverne’s stomach, prompting him to press another kiss to her head before he withdraws to check on their babe. 

Malleus—because that’s what Meleanor insists his name will be—is utterly unchanged from when he saw him this morning. Still the same tiny, black-shelled egg, sitting so patiently and unassuming in its little nest. Despite this, a sense of giddy affection draws a smile to his face as his hand comes to rest on its body. Malleus is warm, as he often is, and for a moment Raverne imagines he can feel his son moving around from within. 

“You seem troubled.” Meleanor’s voice disrupts his thoughts as he looks back at her. She’s shifted in her seat to face him more directly as she folds the letter to set it inside an envelope. The critical look in her eye tells him that brushing his worries aside would be a frivolous action. 

He looks back to Malleus and clears his throat. “A guard brought me the most recent avisa.” 

Before he has a chance to continue, a barking laugh escapes from his wife as she tosses the sealed letter onto the vanity. “Oh, that. By the gods, did you read what they wrote this time? ‘Oh, the fae are trying to drive us to extinction! They are raiding our villages and lands!’ as if we did not gift them those very villages and lands to begin with.” 

“Now, now, my love, those are perfectly reasonable anxieties to have. The tensions in the surrounding areas have been mounting and the discrimination between species has begun to grow out of control. As it stands, there are no ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ sides.” 

Raverne tries to keep his tone placating as he points this out. This is one topic that he and Meleanor continue to have their disagreements with. Where he tries continually to see from the human perspective, Meleanor is more focused on the actions occurring against the fae and Briar Nation itself. Neither of them is wrong in their approach and they both know this, which is how they can have these conversations, but it can still create tension. 

“Ah, and the wondrous praise they wrote about my mother, our son, and myself? They even made sure to include you and Lilia as well in the onslaught. They called me evil incarnate, you a passive doormat, and Lilia an unleashed dog.” She presses a hand to her chest with a smile. “Frankly, I liked the Mistress of Evil title the other loudmouth granted me, but I shall concur.” 

He grimaces as he withdraws his hand from Malleus. The opinion piece had titled his son as a failure yet to be hatched, which had also felt like a personal strike to his heart. He doesn’t reply to Meleanor’s words as his mind becomes focused on the consequences the avisa will bring. Its propaganda, plain and simple, and certainly not propaganda that the monarchy put out, which means the interlopers have already bought off a portion of the scribes. 

“Raverne.” Meleanor’s voice murmurs right by his ear, startling him for a moment as he feels her arms come around his waist and her chin rest on his shoulder. His body relaxes beneath the familiarity of her touch, her scent, her presence. His hand comes up to rest on her arm as his thumb caresses her wrist. “Erase these troubled thoughts from your mind. The courtiers are already on the case in frenzy. Any insult to our family is a direct hit to their pride and status; it will not take long for them to weed out who did this.”

“I still do not like reading about my wife and my son being slandered in public media. The representations of you are completely inaccurate. Heartless, cruel. Although you may be strong-willed at times, I of all people know you have good intentions, and you are kind, and so worthy of adoration, and yet…” He purses his lips in frustration. Meleanor laughs at his obvious dissatisfaction as she presses a kiss to his cheek. 

“My dearest knight, off to defend my honour? I am quite capable of doing so myself, although I do admit it warms my heart to see you get so riled on my behalf.” He turns his head to allow a brief kiss before she withdraws to return to the vanity. “Truly, though. I am not bothered, mother is certainly not bothered, and Lilia was nearly pissing himself laughing while reading it all. And Malleus… well. All he knows is what his beloved parents say in his presence, so this is certainly not a topic to be having, no?” 

She gives him a look that he’s come to know quite well—a drop it look. He remains tight lipped for a moment longer before his shoulders slump and he gives a slow exhale of resignation. 

“Fine. You are correct in your belief that the courtiers will certainly clean up the mess. As you said, any insult to their pride is enough to drive them to action for once.” He raises a hand to touch the eggshell once more as he smiles lightly. “Look what you have to look forward to, my love.” 

Malleus, as usual, offers no response, though the comment does draw an amused hum from his wife. “If Malleus is anything like me, he will be able to handle it just fine.” 

He glances at Meleanor with a wince. “Pity to our courtiers, then.”

She smiles with a touch of menace. “Pity, indeed.”   

[childaintit]

Modern au subaru and Julius (theyre gym bros heh)

What Julius was looking at :

[spkyart]

THE BOYS ⭐⭐⭐⭐

One of them is a professional yapper

[manchesterau]

not being able to understand a bit or when dnp are joking is top five phannie fails