#because I literally cannot stop thinking about this

[aechlys]

Dear "I'm a lover not a fighter", you are welcome to tag me. Let's dance.

There is no "social double standard" or "intentional engineered koolaid" - there is just laws that protect fanfiction writers from being sued by the original copyright holder as long as we follow those laws and don't try to make money off of someone else's copyrighted material.

There is a double-standard when writers are expected to just do everything for free, meanwhile artists and bootleg fandom merch makers who sell on tumblr, etsy, and elsewhere have continuously made money off of their fanworks with no harassment and no internal fear-mongering for decades. This includes Star Wars IP and other heavy hitters- I'm sure many will remember the latest blazed campaign of that one person selling their literal mountain of bootleg fan merch unmolested- hell, their ad was even approved by tumblr. Some will say "Well fan art is transformative!" So is fan fiction though? There is no special shield protecting artists and bootleg merch sellers other than social acceptance of selling art and bootleg fan merch that has never been extended to writers.

(I don't even have time to get into the psychology of how capitalism makes us feel like we have to monetize every single inch of our lives, which is evil and wrong - including hobbies we do for free, and fanfiction is an amazing relief from that because you cannot monetize it, and I have never been more stressed in my life since people have been trying to monetize my own peaceful free hobby.)

No one's said once that you suddenly HAVE to monetize your work. My point is that no one should be witch-hunted for wanting to do so, and as you said in our conversation "I am not the fan art police", so how are you the fan fic police either? Let people live- no it doesn't actually affect you at all nor will it ever!

So if you think fanfiction should ever involve money - stop writing it.Stop posting it. Get the fuck out of fandom.

DO NOT TRY TO SELL OR MONETIZE SOMEONE ELSE'S COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL. IT'S ILLEGAL.

Again, take this same energy, same gusto, same rhetoric, to the fan art and bootleg merch makers happily selling all over tumblr, etsy, etc., and who people who follow your page also happily and actively purchase from, and I'll support you. It's the dictionary definition of a double-standard to tell one group of people to not do a thing while another identical group does the exact same thing with your blessing and/or blind eye. If you ACTUALLY care about fandom this seriously and the legal implications of it, GO ALL IN. Otherwise this is just hypocrisy. Like you said, you aren't the fandom police, so maybe you should take your own advice, knock it off, and leave people alone.

EDIT: I'll add also, in case this escapes containment- I'm not demanding everyone should agree with me, I think we should simply make room for the people who do happen to have a desire to make a buck off their writing the same as anyone else in fandom without giving them a hard time or going to the puritanical pulpit over it. Everyone should be able to control their work how they want- free, sale, donations, whatever. The world won't end and you won't be banned forever from writing or posting fanfic just because a handful decide they might like to sell- that's a crazy idea to propagate. Our beloved fan artists and merch makers carry along just fine, and so will any writer who wants to do the same.

I just saw someone say "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" as an argument for boycotting AO3

Babe AO3 is a nonprofit. They do not exist under the ethics of capitalism. Fanfiction is legal because no money is ever exchanged around it. (All the money given to AO3 is used to maintain their servers and pay their lawyers to help keep fanfiction legal.)

Fanfiction is one of the few things in this world - probably the one singular form of entertainment that does not exist within the confines of capitalism. So by your own logic, even if you hate some of the content on AO3, it's inherently the only ethical thing to consume in the whole world.

[moondustbaby]

Watching You and Love Island

bsf!Rafe x bsf!Reader

cw: smut, piv, unprotected sex

mdni 18+

summary: Watching Love Island together every night has always been their thing. Popcorn, commentary, teasing—maybe a little tension, but nothing serious. Except now? She’s in Rafe’s lap, riding him slow, and they’re still watching the episode like it’s nothing new. Casual. Comfortable. Totally normal for best friends who can’t keep their hands off each other. Right?

(aka: this is their foreplay and their love language.)

⸻

It’s day twenty-three of your and Rafe’s sacred summer ritual:

Love Island. 9pm. Your couch. Same blanket. Same snacks.

The bowl of popcorn is nearly empty on the coffee table. Your legs are warm and bare in your little cotton shorts. Your hoodie’s pushed off your shoulder—his hoodie, technically, but it’s been yours since last spring—and Rafe’s got both hands on your hips like you’re not straddling him slowly, lazily, while the Islanders scream about loyalty on the screen behind you.

“I’m just sayin’,” Rafe mutters, voice low against your neck as he shifts slightly beneath you, “if she pulls that man for a chat one more time—”

“Shh.” You tighten around him with a little clench and a smirk. “You’re missing the good part.”

He groans, fingertips digging into your waist.

“You’re evil.”

You smile. “You like it.”

The room glows blue and gold from the TV, echoing dramatic music and confessionals. You’re perched comfortably in his lap, knees pressed into the sides of the couch cushion, his sweats shoved down to mid-thigh while your shorts and underwear are long discarded on the floor. You haven’t even taken your hoodie off. That’s how lazy this is.

It’s slow. Hot. Familiar. You’re both slightly sweaty but content. His head tips back against the couch as you roll your hips again, lazily dragging yourself up and down, and he lets out a soft breath through gritted teeth.

“I literally cannot focus on this episode,” he mumbles, barely coherent.

“Focus on me instead,” you tease.

His hands slide to your ass. “Been focusing on you since you sat down.”

You giggle and lean in to kiss his jaw, still moving. The slick sounds of where you’re connected mix with the background of island drama.

“She’s gonna recouple,” you whisper, eyes flicking to the TV.

“She better not.” His voice strains just a bit. “That man literally made her breakfast yesterday.”

You laugh into his neck. “You make me breakfast.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, rocking up into you, “but you fuck me on the couch, so I win.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, pace faltering for half a second because he’s not wrong.

“Still think Zak is gonna come crawling back,” you say after a beat, grounding yourself on his chest and picking your rhythm back up.

Rafe blinks up at you, totally dazed and red-lipped and ruined.

“You’re really out here giving play-by-plays while riding me, huh?”

“Multitasking,” you shrug.

He shakes his head like he’s trying to snap out of it. “Gonna start calling you production team. You’re way too invested.”

You lean forward, tongue flicking at the corner of his mouth.

“Bet production wishes they had this angle,” you whisper, hips rolling deeper now.

His hands twitch on your hips. “Fuck, baby…”

“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Makes it harder to pretend we’re just friends.”

“Who said I’m pretending?”

That stills you.

You blink, breath catching. Rafe just looks up at you, eyes dark, lips parted. Hands still gripping you like he never wants to let go.

The soft chatter from the show barely registers.

You shift again, slower now. Lower.

“Say it again.”

He exhales hard. “I’m not pretending.”

You press your forehead to his.

“I don’t want to either,” you whisper.

And suddenly the lazy rhythm picks up, not frantic, but deeper. Needier. You roll harder against him, and his hands drag you down each time like he’s trying to feel all of you. Like he’s scared you’ll stop.

Neither of you looks at the TV now.

“Y-you’re close, huh?” he asks, voice cracking.

You nod, breathless.

He curls up a little to kiss you—open-mouthed, hot, messy—and the whimper you let out makes him hiss.

“Fuck, that’s it—ride it out, pretty girl,” he murmurs, rocking up into you. “I’ve got you.”

You’re clenching before you can even warn him, head tipping back as you come, moaning soft and shaky against his mouth. He groans loud and broken beneath you, spilling into you seconds later, hands trembling where they hold you still.

The TV’s still playing.

Someone just got a text. You both ignore it.

You slump against him, sweaty and grinning, your heart beating against his chest.

“Love Island hits different like this,” you mumble against his jaw.

Rafe laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.

“We should make this the new routine.”

“Already was,” you smirk. “We just made it official.”

a/n: in honor of tonight being the finale of love island usa, here’s a little fic i’ve been thinking about for awhile 🤭 because obviously bsf!rafe watches it religiously with you. this one’s got all the casual “i’m inside you but also emotionally invested in this show” vibes we know and love. honestly? it’s filthy, it’s domestic, and it’s exactly what they do every night. enjoy 🫶🏻

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉:

@psychicnatural @superlegend216 @rafesbabygirlx @raineshua @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @angelofcigs @tiaajosephin

[keyotosprompts]

is this love? .𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

crush prompts

⇴ having to not act crazy when person a feels their hands brush over person b's

⇴ seeing someone for the first time and having your eyes linger back to them because of how beautiful they are

⇴ blinking a few times because you can't believe the person in front of you is real

⇴ complete denial of feelings whenever someone else brings it up, but in private you can't help but hide your face and blush because of your feelings

⇴ person c says, "so... are you guys dating?" and person a tries to cover their ass and says, "what?! no! no. no no no."

⇴ trying to focus on one subject but person a cannot (for the life of them) get their mind off of person b

⇴ person a feeling the back of their neck get hot & getting flustered when speaking to person b

⇴ person a catches themself trying a bit harder when interacting with person b (whether it be dressing up, trying harder in a subject/sport, etc) and cringes ("what the actual fuck am i doing?")

⇴ person a reads up on a subject/piece of media/hobby that person b enjoys to try and talk to them later (bonus: person b finds out and says, "you didn't have to do that. i was always gonna find a way to talk to you anyway.")

⇴ sneakily setting up dates

⇴ eventually, once the relationship is established, person b jokes about person a's crush on them. person a responds with, "stop it. am i actually that obvious?"

⇴ person a acts all suave and nonchalant in front of person b, only to become a whole mess after they stop talking. like literal shambles, rethinking the entire conversation, and dragging their hands across their face shambles.

⇴ pressing your lips together to prevent a big grin from appearing on your face because of person b's antics

⇴ trying not to think about the other person, so you do everything imaginable to keep them out of your mind (reading, coding, watching tv—you name it). but everything always comes back to them.

⇴ person a and person b start off as the only chill co-workers in the workplace, which creates a friendship between the two that could blossom into more

⇴ jealousy being the beginnings of a crush. person b wondering why they feel their heart sink when person a mentions that they're going on a date.

⇴ or person b's jealousy causes them to be a bit touchier with person a, causing person a to start developing a crush on person b

⇴ it randomly hits them. person a is just sitting around with person b until they're like... "wait. i really like spending time with person b. i'd spend all my time with them if i could. i want to kiss person b—WAIT WAIT WHAT"

⇴ person a starts to imagine person b in rom-com situations. totally unintentional btw. but person a realizes that person b embodies most of these rom com love interests, and slowly starts to realize maybe there's something there between the two of them.

⇴ sharing earbuds in and realizing the proximity is too much and they're so warm and their skin is so soft and that one focused face they make is so captivating and... oh.

⇴ "why do i even keep you around?" "because you have a crush on me" "WHAT." how do they know how do they know how do they know

↑ whole time other person is just oblivious and said it just to fuck with the other one.

⇴ something that originally starts off as a friends with benefits situation develops into more over time. you don't know when you started admiring the crease of their eyebrow or the way their mouth parts when you do that thing. you don't know why it makes you feel so good seeing that.

[drafts-and-delusions]

Saja Boys' love language

Tags: fluff, love language, headcanon

Jinu

How he shows love

Jinu gives the best gifts, but also the weirdest. Sometimes it’s something he knows you’ve been eyeing for weeks; sometimes it’s a rock he found that kind of looks like a cat. Either way, he’s so proud.

He leaves little notes—sticky tabs, cards, folded paper slipped into your books. Sometimes it’s a doodle; sometimes it’s a bad pun. Always with love.

He’s a date planner through and through. Tries to play it cool but literally cannot stop smiling whenever he thinks about the surprise he has for you.

How he needs love

Brag about him. Be proud of him in front of others, not just about how he looks, but the kind of person he is. Tell your friends how kind he is, how thoughtful he is, how he’s the kind of guy who remembers your favorite color and your mom’s birthday. Compliment his heart, even when he doesn’t believe it’s as good as you say.

Romance

How he shows love

You’ll never go a full hour without him complimenting you. It ranges from sweet (“You looked at me and I forgot how to breathe”) to feral (“You could ruin me in three seconds, wanna try?”) just to see you blush.

He listens. You could mention something in passing and he’ll bring it up weeks later, just because he remembered.

How he needs love

Tell him you love him. Again. And again. Praise him when he tries. Thank him when he’s sweet. Laugh at his dumb jokes like he’s the funniest man alive. Let him feel adored.

Abby

How he shows love

Abby pretends he's not all over you, but he absolutely is. But when no one's looking, he's brushing his knuckles along your back, stroking your thigh under the table, kissing your temple, and acting like it meant nothing. 

How he needs love

Touch him. Play with his hand, link your pinky with his, braid a tiny section of his hair while he complains, but secretly loves it. He won’t admit it, but it heals him. He doesn’t need words, just little physical reminders that you’re his and he’s yours.

Mystery

How he shows love. 

An acts of service kinda guy. Your coffee is ready before you even get up. Your charger is plugged in and coiled neatly. Your shoes are by the door. Carries you to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. And if you’re hurt, someone will be paying for that.

How he needs love

You’ll never hear him ask for help, so you have to offer it. Tie his hair back when he’s focused. He thinks he looks ridiculous with his bangs tied up, but he can’t say no when it makes you laugh. Adjust his jacket or brush lint off his shoulder. Sit next to him while you both do your own thing. Adjust his clothes for him. Watch how he leans into it. 

Baby

How he shows love

Baby's all limbs and comfort. He’ll wrap you in the softest hugs and pull you into his lap when you’re sad. He’s the king of forehead kisses and resting his head on yours. If you're in a bad mood, he’ll sit there with you in silence, just petting your head like you’re his favorite thing.

How he needs love

Cling to him. Whine for him. Pout until he gives you attention. He’ll act like he’s so annoyed, but inside he’s eating it up. He likes knowing you need him. It makes him act smug, but the truth is he’d say yes in a heartbeat. He just likes the game.

[aishangotome]

DO NOT HARASS OTHER TRANSLATORS!

I don't know why this has to be said. I woke up with someone letting me know in DMs that there was some translation crossover drama, and this is not what I care to deal with first thing in the morning.

All translators put in a lot of time and hard work into their tanslations. No one OWNS the intellectual content; only the company does (Cybird, NetEase, Tencent, etc.). All fan Translations are that, fan Translations - this means we each use our own free time, our own experience and knowledge, to produce work that is often meant for OURSELVES and here to share with you all as a secondary reason.

For over a year, I've put in my pinned post that I don't mind other translators doing similar work. Everyone is different with their own interpretations, style, and timeline. Unless someone is blatantly copy and pasting another translators work and passing it as their own, no one should gatekeep what someone can or cannot translate whether it has or has not been done before.

For my LN translations, I've linked Jin's first translations of Ch 1-14, yet I've also announced that I will be translating the same chapters on my blog anyway for my own collection. You, as a reader, can still choose to read Jin's version or mine - I don't care, because this is ultimately my hobby, for myself, just made public to share with everyone else as a courtesy. I still share her work, and that's ok.

I sincerely hope whomever has been harassing the poor translator will stop. We do not condone this type of behavior; translators are real people with real lives, real feelings, and we are all in a shared community to support each other, not shit on each other for liking the same characters and stories.

I am thankful that I've been told early on to close off anonymous asks because of trolls who come after certain game translations. I highly suggest this for all translators to keep their peace of mind.

For those who think its ok to bully or harass others behind a computer screen for sharing free entertainment out of their own kindness and free time, unfollow me.

TLDR; support all translators. Translators will like the same characters, stories, and do similar Translations. That's ok. If you are someone who will harass another translator for translating the same story, please unfollow me.

UPDATE: Yes, I have been shown the reblog going around. Yes, I saw what they said about me. I think they're just really frustrated for being attacked out of nowhere, which yes, I do feel attacked as well that they insinuated my work is sloppy just because I work fast. Those who know me know that I type 170+ WPM and have always worked really fast naturally; I still spend 12-16 hours a day translating and proofreading to make sure everything is grammatically, contextually, and culturally accurate. By no means is my work sloppier just because I work faster. I chalk this up to frustrated speech. Everyone needs to respect each other, stop being so hostile at people you don't even know, and stay in your own lane. Read our translations if you want, scroll past if you don't want to. It's literally that simple.

I'm done talking about this.

[bucketofbugz]

Part two of my live tpot 19 reaction!!!

this is honestly a really interesting conversation.

I wish we knew more canon algebralien lore, considering the sub specials aren't canon. sighs

THREE CONFIRMATION HELLO??

"what do you think comes between 2 and 4?" Six I get that's common sense to you but I don't think these objects have processed that there's an algebralien for every number yet

Tree leave her alone just go awayyy

WHAT> WHAT HAPPENED. WAHT IS THAT. WHAT DID TREE TURN HER INTO. WHY IS THERE GOLF BALL GLOOP ON THE FLOOR NOW????

ohohohohooooooo loving this

genuinely I feel pure joy and whimsy from the Freesmart stuff, in both bfdia and tpot. yesss be mad at each other!!! YAYYYY!!!

"they could've acted a little reluctant" Book I don't think Winner cares about you at all if I'm being honest.

ouu,, he's just a baby :((

NOT AGAIN. BRO.

LITERALLY ME RIGHT NOW

Chat I am so scared. I'm terrified. GATY :(((( GATY COME HOME :(((( EXIST AGAIN :((((((

they literally SIGNED THEIR EXISTENCE AWAY????????? THAT'S WHAT IT WAS??????

"the only ones not to sign were you and that ANNOYING LEAF"

oh my god what did you do to Leafy. ONE. WHAT DID YOU DO TO LEAFY.

HOW WAS SHE WORSE THAN DONUT???

ough. I love this show

what

what did you do

ONE WHAT DID YOU DO??

BARF BAG??? NO

when this guy's being so annoying you just gotta delete his girlfriend from existence

chat. chat what am I doing right now. hOW IS THIS MAKING ME SO SAD. THERE ARE TEARS. IN MY EYES

BAKTBALLL NOOOOOOO

this is horrible I hate it here

I knew that was gonna happen. dang it

Yeah TB just keep digging your grave deeper

GIGGLING TB cannot catch a break this episode with these scene cuts

oh my god

I have no reaction to the Liy Murdering Everyone scene because I was so focused on watching it but. oh my god that was really cool

HI ONEEEEEEEE

oh yeah that's fair. I'd be mad too if I was trying to let a rip in reality take over and some guy kept it closed

"YOURS? WHAT?" that's genuinely how I sound watching these shows

Pencil what were you doing up there

Pencil

Pencil why don't we get to know why did this happen off-screen

shes glowing <3 also One what was that.

OH NEVERMIND. GAVE HER A WEAPON

PENCIL

rest in peace Liy I guess. YESS Pencill get worse!!!

Who is the other one alive what

Ohohoho. I'm loving this. YES. GET WORSE!!!! GET WORSE!!!!!!!!

kill that number. lash out because of your trauma. you go girl. this is horrible for you and I'm living for it

YEAHHHHHHHHH

YEAHHH

oh my god and she immediately tries to start recovering people??? OUGH. ough I am in pain. Pencil </333

"I've been rooting for you this whole time" omg me tooooooooo

playing into Pencil's feelings in her vulnerable state in order to manipulate her? oh One you silly rascal

chat this is genuinely horrifying when did this become a horror movie

"oh it's not that scary" IMAGINE YOU WERE IN PENCIL'S PLACE RIGHT NOW. I DARE YOU

OWIEEE

Promising her that she'll get a second try at her friendships. That she'll be given the chance to not lose everyone she cares about. I am ill. don't talk to me

THE SPARKLY SOUND EFFECT I"M GIGLING

oh my god she killed her

"hehe" HUH. WHAT JUST HAPPENED

THERE'S SOMEONE STILL ALIVE BTW. PENCIL WAS STILL SECOND. WHO THE HECKis that Grassy I hear

no.

no don't do this to me

this probably reminded her of when she yelled at Ruby and she started crying. oh my god. don't talk to me

THAT'S WHY SHE WAS UP THERE??????

"You're safe here Grassy. From them, and, well, me" don't. stop it. STOP IT I CAN'T HANDLE THIS THE BABYYYYYY

I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T DO THIS WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE"S ALL ALONE NOW?????? STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP I should have never said anything about me feeling maternal for this stupid bundle of grass I'm gonna go become seafoam

wow I sure do love the "the child is the only one that survives" trope!!!! not heartbreaking at all!!!!!!! it's so fun and joyous!!!!!

eguh......

I can't even be happy about the Winner and Loser reunion because I'm SOBBING and CAN'T SEE THROUGH MY TEARS

wow! so that was tpot 19!! excuse me while I go lay down and cry!!!! :D

[ang3lofdivinity]

. . Let Me Show You My Devotion

. . thinking about the alien stage cast with an immortal!reader..

Warnings :: SUGGESTIVE. VERY SUGGESTIVE. plays with NSFW content, no gendered anatomy described however, gn!reader, mention blood play, weapons/weapon play, reader gets (or is implied to be) naked in all of these (implied: sua, till), readers blood is gold, degrading, death, violence, not graphic but not entirely innocent, reader is FUCKING OLD (chronologically..), degrading, they literally kill you but you can’t die.. so they make it freaky? Is there a name for that? Ig slightly yandere coded? LITERALLY A SEX MENTION (“like you’re about to come”), dw nothing explicit gang… Listened to “Your Love” by She Wants Revenge while writing these.

“This jacket’s from 1643. I’d like to keep it intact.”

Basic Information:

Name: It’s your name, of course!!

Age: 20’s physically. Cannot age.

Story: Despite centuries of life, you’ve retained a fragile kind of hope. You're weary, yes, but still gentle, still kind. Because if you lose that… then what’s left?

Even if you stay in your 20’s for the rest of your life, unable to truly age, you must still move forward.

You’ve survived plagues, wars, collapses, Alien Invasions™ — but none of them truly stuck with you. Until music. Humanity’s desperation, their need to sing when all else fails? That’s what makes you stay. That’s what you love.

You’ve refused Alien Stage for as long as you can remember — you know how dangerous it is. If you entered, you could never leave. The aliens would never let a living myth walk away now, would they? Look at what they’ve done to Luka.

You can’t die, and henceforth would kill the other opponent. And they don’t deserve that. They do not deserve death.

So you hide away from peering eyes.

You don’t want to be worshipped.

You want to be remembered right. For your love of music. Your strange doodles. Your favorite fruit that went extinct.

You’ve remembered every name of those who have crossed your path, even writing them down so you wouldn’t forget them. Every name, every soul, has a story. You’ve long come to realize that from your many years of living, thinking you’d have no other reason other than that.

But, now? You’ve found them.



Sua makes you kneel on silk.

Originally, you’d just handed her a dagger as she stares at the thing within her pale hands.

“1431. A jealous queen’s last kill. She swore to the corpse she’d never touch another.” You mention, standing in front of the short woman.

“And you want me to be her?” Sua softly speaks, brows slightly furrowed as she looks up at you.

“I want you to understand that even if you destroy me, I’ll crawl back to you.”

You bare your chest to her. Kneel before her.

“Right here.”

Then—

She stabs you in one clean motion.

No hesitation.

You gasp. Golden sprays her wrist, her cheek.

And you grab her shirt and kiss her with everything left in you.

It’s hungry. Brutal, even. And you moan into it.

You die in her arms. Still kissing.

And when you return, gold leaking from the corner of your mouth, she doesn’t even speak.

She grabs your face gently and kisses you again.

Now? This time, as you kneel on the silk before her, the dagger now is polished to gleam. She kneels behind you, kisses your shoulder.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my death.”

She drives the blade into your spine.

You choke, lurching forward. Gold splashes all around you.

She wraps her arms around you as you go limp. They envelop you, keeping you pressed against her as she begins whispering into your ear:

“You’re beautiful like this. Still. Quiet. Mine.”

And then she tilts your head to the side over your shoulder, and kisses you. Tongue slick with your blood. Your head lolls back into her mouth.

When you awaken, she doesn’t stop.

She keeps kissing you.

Keeps cutting.

Keeps whispering,

“More.”

Mizi holds the gun more steady now

You give her the pistol like it’s just an ordinary flower. She holds it like a poisonous snake trying to bite her.

“1920s. A wedding, a gun, a suicide. I watched the whole thing happen.”

Her hands are shaking.

“Please—don’t make me do this.”

You tuck hair behind her ear. All while smiling softly at her.

“I’m not making you. I’m offering myself. Because I want you to see the worst of me, and still be able to love me.”

Your hand guides hers. Now pointing the barrel to your heart.

Then—you lean forward.

And kiss her. Slow. Full. Sticky with her tears.

She gasps into your mouth, tears still falling.

And—she pulls the trigger.

Your body jolts. You stagger.

And yet, you’re still kissing her when your lungs collapse.

You die slumped against her, mouth still open, gold dripping onto her collarbone and seeping through her shirt.

When you come back, she’s still holding you like she’s praying.

“You’re not real,” she whispers, tears filling her vision.

You kiss her again. Softer this time. With a smile.

“But I’m yours.”

But this time? She holds the pistol like a dance partner now.

“I still have nightmares about the first time.”

“I don’t.”

You kneel. Chest bared for her.

“Show me how far love can go.”

She cries. But her hands are steady.

She places the barrel against your sternum. Then kisses you first. Slowly. Desperately.

“I’m going to kill you like I mean it this time.”

You nod in response, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Then, she fires.

Gold splashes her. You gasp, coughing on your own blood before—

You die with her name still in your throat.

And she kisses your dead lips until you gasp awake again, blood drying on your chin.

“You’re mine,” she whispers.

“Even if I have to kill you every night to believe it.”

Hyuna doesn’t even use a weapon this time.

At first, when you first handed her the gun, she was confused. It was after a mission and the two of you were just lounging about.

“1871. A rebel missed. His lover forgave him anyway.”

You give it to her.

She’s shaking, staring in disbelief. You kneel in-between her legs, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Kill me. If that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

She cries as she holds the gun.

“I’ve lost too many people. I can’t lose you too.”

You smile. You lean in.

And kiss her.

It’s a mess. Desperate. Loud, even.

And then, in the midst of it all, she fires.

You slump forward. Still kissing her.

And when you return to your consciousness—bleeding and smiling—you find her still frozen, just staring at you. Your head resting within her lap, the gun on your chest.

Your gold blood is still on her lips.

And you lean up and kiss her again.

Longer this time.

As if sealing a promise.

The second time? It’s not a gun.

It’s her teeth.

She pushes you down against a wall. Unbuttons your shirt. Hands sticky with wine after the long night.

“No weapon. No steel. I want to feel you break under me.”

She bites your throat. Hard. Blood spurts. You gasp.

Then she punches you in the gut—once, twice, until your organs rupture.

You’re slumping.

And she’s kissing your mouth between every blow.

“Come on,” she whispers.

“Die for me. Show me I still matter.”

You do.

And when you wake up against the couch with her hovering above you still, she then straddles you. Your blood in her mouth dripping out, but she doesn’t care, just caging your head with her arms.

“God, you’re disgusting. Let’s do it again.”

Ivan has become obsessed.

When you first spoke of it, you pressed the scalpel into his hands. Glinting under the sterile lights, you’d cleaned it before handing it to him.

“A hospital in 1952. The doctor fell in love with every patient. He called it healing.”

Ivan blinks slowly.

“You want me to operate on you, or murder you?”

“Both, if it means you’ll kiss me first.”

He doesn’t laugh. He studies you. Cold. Sharp. Unreadable.

You guide the blade to your wrist. Drag it down until gold pours free.

He doesn’t stop you. He watches. Face frozen.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers.

“Only if you leave.”

He kneels. Stares up at you. Then—so sudden you don’t flinch—he presses his mouth to yours.

It’s warm. Slow. Open. Sticky with blood.

You whisper against his mouth, “Slit my throat.”

And he does.

It’s clean. Precise. Quick.

Your body twitches as gold sprays from your throat. And yet—your lips never leave his.

You die with your tongue still inside his mouth.

And when you return, breathing shallow, you finish the kiss properly.

Ivan looks wrecked. His voice cracks.

“I thought I’d have to lose you to keep you.”

“You did. And you still kissed me.”

He has posed you like a study. You’re lying naked across a table, wrists open, ribs bare. And yet, you don’t mind it.

He’s already cut you tonight.

Just to see.

He kisses your shoulder. Then your neck. Then your thigh. All gold-stained, from your blood, from the amount of times he kissed you all over while cutting up your body.

“Every part of you grows back… Does that mean I can take everything?”

“Do you want to try?”

You offer him the scalpel again next to you which he’d placed down. And this time, he sinks it into your sternum slowly.

Your body arches under him.

You whimper. Bleeding for him.

And he kisses you during the entire process. Desperate. Deep. Hands on your broken ribcage as your chest collapses.

“You’re still warm. Even dying.”

And just before your heart gives out, you mutter to him :

“Make me feel yours again.”

And he kisses you one more time before you die under him.

When you return from unconsciousness, he’s still there.

Still kissing your lips.

Still trembling atop of you.

“You’re disgusting,” he whispers, his hand now gripping the scalpel so tightly his knuckles are white.

“And I’d still do it again.”

Till asks if he can while lying in your arms.

He sits with you in a greenhouse, one made by the aliens thinking “humans would thrive better in an environment more akin to that of their old home planet”. Midnight dew coating the petals around you. You press the obsidian blade into his hands like a sacrament.

“I watched this blade cut out a heart for a god. The crowd screamed.”

He gulps audibly. His voice breaks.

“Why would you let me use it on you?”

“Because even if you carved me open, I’d still reach for your hand.”

You kiss him first.

It’s hesitant. Tender. He gasps when your tongue brushes his—sweet and sticky with blood already leaking into your mouth.

You guide the blade to your abdomen. He trembles. He’s crying already, tears blurring his vision.

“Push. I’ll hold you through it.” You encourage in-between kisses

And so, he stabs.

You twitch, then moan. Not from pain—but from surrender. Your fingers stay tangled in his.

You slump against him, blood painting his lap gold.

“Even death can’t take me from you,” you whisper against his skin.

When your body stills, he kisses your lips again—still warm. Still slick with your blood.

You wake up in his arms, your mouth already finding his.

“I dream about killing you now. Is that okay?”

That’s what he asks the next time.

“Yes.”

You offer the obsidian blade like a gift again. He straddles your lap, trembling, tears already welling up in his eyes.

He kisses your jaw.

“Last time I cried. This time… I want to see what happens if I go deeper.”

You gasp, not dramatic — just.. a soft gasp, just from shock of being kissed.

“You can. I won’t stop you.”

He kisses you. Soft, fevered, blood-sweet. Then drives the blade between your ribs, down, twisting.

You cry out—more from the intimacy than the pain.

“You always make a sound right before your eyes roll back,” he breathes. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you steady.

“Like… like you’re about to come.”

You smile at that.

And die in his arms again.

He kisses your dead mouth. Keeps kissing. Until you jolt back to life beneath him.

“Again,” you beg.

“Again,” he says.

Luka ends up cornering you this time.

It’s late. Quiet. The kind of quiet that only happens after someone’s screamed too much to go on.

You place the knife in his palm. Spanish steel, heavy with history.

“1844. A duel. One man died. The other never touched anyone again.”

He turns it in his hands, scoffing.

“And you think I care about some lovesick fool with a blade?”

“I think you already are one.”

You remove your shirt. Let your chest show, golden veins of blood beneath skin. Your voice is soft.

“Right here. Under the ribs. You’ll feel it hit the heart.”

He doesn’t move.

You walk to him. Guide his hand. Let him feel your steady heartbeat.

“This is yours. Even if you stop it.”

And that’s what breaks him.

He thrusts the blood in.

You jerk—but you smile. Gold pours from your lips.

And before the light leaves your eyes, you kiss him. Your blood smears his mouth, his chin, your joined lips.

You gasp his name into the kiss. And collapse.

He holds you.

You come back. Seconds later. Chest still glowing. Mouth still brushing his.

“Now you know I’m yours.”

He doesn’t speak.

He just grabs your face and kisses you again—this time not as your killer, but as your devotee.

It’s dark once again while doing so. The same Spanish dagger in hand. Still faintly stained with your blood from before.

He doesn’t ask this time.

“Take off your shirt.”

You do.

“Kneel.”

You do.

He presses the blade to your chest—not to kill you, not yet. Just to watch your body shiver beneath it.

And he leans in.

“Tell me who this blade really belonged to.” He demands, his voice still soft.

“A man who killed his lover. Then carved his name into his own throat.” You say, eyes drifting off elsewhere

His eyes gleam.

“That sounds familiar.”

Then, he stabs you mid-kiss. And this time, he doesn’t look away.

Your body lurches forward, gold spilling out, tongue still tangled with his.

You’re dying. Again.

And Luka moans into your mouth.

“You’re mine. You don’t get to die without kissing me first.”

When you come back, he doesn’t let you speak.

He just pulls you back down. Tongue, teeth, gold between your lips like honey. It’s all just heat between you.

A/N: I’m literally dying. Sos. Anyways, I love my husband Till. Please don’t mind how sloppily written this is..

[wolfertinger]

Also what the fuck is wrong with Wis. It’s like ultra disgusting to be talking about your partners mental illness like that? Wis fucking talks about Salem like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Girl, he literally has these shitty spiral episodes because you go out of your way to make an ass of yourself. It’s not the anons and “harassers” who are doing the damage. It’s YOU who is laying fucking traps for your poor boyfriend so he has to double down and try and educate white people, educate YOU.

Like you’re just setting him up for straight up fucking failure, and because he sounds like an idiot YOU TALK DOWN ABOUT HIM??? You sound fucking sick.

Salem, honey, your girlfriend is a fucking idiot. She’s making you feel like shit, you know that. It’s gonna keep being like this because Wis doesn’t actually care about you.

You’re just a coin to Wis where she can say “um ☝️ my boyfriend is transmasc and black so I can say this absolutely vile shit!” And it makes you look like a total dickwad because you look like you’re backing her up.

Wis, its YOUR actions that are making your boyfriend feel bad for being black. It’s YOU setting Salem up because yeah! Oh my god! Wis doesn’t care! She said it! So everyone has to go to Salem for anything to happen!

The thing here is that Salem doesn’t have to speak for her! Stop defending her! I know you love her or whatever but the shit this girl is saying is NOT worth being a total hypocrite for.

Salem, there is nothing wrong with showing anger towards racist dickheads. You’re not bad, in fact you should keep being angry. You need a spine. Stop caring about what others think. Stop caring about what your racist girlfriend thinks.

tbh. i do feel like there is a major issue, of salem allowing wis to deal with all his problems for him. she clearly cannot handle the amount of stress, and he cannot seem to speak up for himself when he wants to. these statements are literally within the same few days of eachother. does this seem like a relationship, where they communicate with eachother?

wis is saying, "people of color cannot use a trans womans whiteness to harass her". salem is saying, "white trans women cannot hide behind their transness, for serious issues like being racist in recent history". i am not saying both are right or wrong. but they clearly do not bother talking about these things, before posting their extremely contrasting views on the issues.

[cloverapple]

@stargirlsblogging so sorry to put you on the spot like this, but I need space to reply + you brought up a good point 😮‍💨💚

“If It’s an Illusion, How Do You Break That Illusion to See Your DR?”

First, let’s set the baseline:

Creation is finished. You already did the action that creates—be it intending, scribbling affirmations until your wrist went numb, running methods on loop, thinking about shifting until your skull ached—you did the thing. Creation is finished. That’s it.

So when you ask, “What else do I need to do to break the illusion so I can see my DR?” you’re already in illusion territory, because you’re assuming there’s still something left to do, some next step, some final piece you must prove or unlock before you can “break” it.

That’s the illusion.

Illusions (in this context) = The continuity rules, the “laws” you’ve internalized, the assumption that you must earn your desire, that shifting takes effort, that there’s a “how” or “when.” Illusions are the rules your mind clings to because it’s addicted to linear cause-and-effect—except it doesn’t realize that the real cause-and-effect is instantaneous: “I did the thing, so I have the thing.”

So automatically, you’re contradicting yourself, which makes no sense!

So how do you actually break the illusion? You see it for what it is:

It makes zero sense that you would still see your CR right now if you’ve created your DR.

That’s where it starts to crumble. All the old logic—“obviously I’m still here,” “I must be failing,” “if I’m the creator why the hell am I still in my CR”—gets exposed for the nonsense it is. Because if you did the thing, then it’s done, and the only explanation left if you’re “still” seeing your CR is: “No, the fuck I’m not.”

🍀 You questioning what more needs to be done? Illusion.

🍀 You spiraling over “wtf do I do now, I’m confused”? Illusion.

🍀 You wondering “why hasn’t it happened yet”? Illusion.

Are you wrong for wavering, doubting, or spiraling? NO! Give yourself grace. You’re not broken for “contradicting assumptions.” The point is that even in the middle of your “BUT BUT BUT BUT” meltdown, you already have your desire. Your only job is to acknowledge how ridiculous it is that you would have anything else, and sit with that fact.

You know those stories people tell: “Eh, I just said fuck it, pretended I was already in my DR, and then I woke up there.” That’s literally it. That’s the “how.”

And like I’ve said before: the moment you accept it’s done, the “how” stops mattering. It can come however it comes—waking up in your DR with zero fanfare, slipping through a lucid dream, sliding through a method that finally clicks. Doesn’t matter. The delivery system isn’t your concern.

Your mind will throw “continuity” nonsense at you because your ego clings to the belief that it can’t be that easy, that there’s always something else to do, some test to pass. Cool. Don’t fight your ego! Show it the proof so it can’t argue:

🍀 Did you intend to shift? Yes.

🍀 Did you take any action that implies shifting? Yes.

🍀 Did you spend months/years doing said action? (Shifting attempts) FURTHER PROOF.

🍀 Creation is finished? Yes.

🍀 So it’s done. It’s yours. No takebacks. Done.

So will your questioning, spiraling, or “contradicting assumptions” stop you from shifting? No. No no no no no no, never.

As long as you recognize that it’s already done and and it cannot be taken from you, you will shift.

Let me put this in the language this community likes to use:

You think that if you assume something, and then assume the opposite, you’ve ruined everything. You think that if you assume “I can’t shift,” you’ve now locked yourself into a reality where you can’t shift. You think that any negative assumption about yourself means you’re delaying your desire. That’s not how it works, that’s an illusion.

You Can Still Shift/Manifest If You Waver, Check the 3D, Doubt, and Have Contradicting Assumptions. None of It Matters

Actually, what if I said I want you to waver, to check for proof, to crash out crying that you “haven’t shifted yet” because you “don’t have your desire”? Wild, right?

1) I encourage you to waver, because once you realize it doesn’t matter, you’ll catch yourself mid-waver and go—“wait, this doesn’t even make sense” and it’ll reinforce that you already have your desire, if anything.

Why would wavering delay your desires, if you’re the source? Why would contradicting assumptions matter if, once you do the action, you have the outcome? If intention is cause and you’re the observer that makes it so, then wavering is just background noise, never the thing that decides what’s yours.

2) I encourage you to check for proof—not because you need to, but because if there’s proof to see, why wouldn’t you look? Why wouldn’t you let yourself feel the thrill of confirmation? The proof is that you did the thing. You decided, you intended, you took the action—so the effect must exist, because cause and effect is all your mind has ever known. You cannot do ABC and not have XYZ. It’s impossible.

3) And I encourage you to crash out, to spiral on your bathroom floor at 3 AM about how you “haven’t shifted yet” or “don’t have your desire yet,” because it’s in that crash and burn that you’ll see how ridiculous and impossible it is. That you—who poured decision, action, and weeks/months/ years of intention into this, could somehow not be the master shifter you already are?

Could somehow not have your desire?

Not be in your DR? It’s insane. It’s impossible. It’s weird.

And you need to notice how weird and uncanny it is. Because that’s the crack in the illusion. That’s the moment you blink and realize:

“Oh! It’s an illusion!”

What Are Illusions?

By illusion, I don’t mean the rainbow spiders you see on shrooms, or the whole “put your hand through glass because glass isn’t real” trick (I mean, I do, but that’s a conversation for another time).

What I mean is: it’s all an illusion tied to the laws you think this reality runs on—continuity, time, linear cause-and-effect, “realistic” expectations. These laws are just the house rules of a dream you forgot you’re lucid in. You assume that because yesterday looked a certain way, today will follow, and tomorrow will play the same song. You think your five senses are the final gatekeepers of truth, that the consistency of waking up in the same bed means “this is real,” that seeing the same face in the mirror means “this is me.”

But these are illusions of consistency. Illusions of repetition. Illusions that make you think you haven’t shifted, that you don’t have your desire, that you aren’t the source.

Because when you zoom out—like really zoom out—you realize these “laws” only bind you if you agree to play by them. And when you realize that, the whole “If I waver, I don’t shift” narrative becomes laughable, because it doesn’t even make sense under the truth of what you are.

Put simply:

• Intention (cause) results in the experience (effect) within awareness.

• The appearance of “no change” is just the illusion of continuity tied to how your awareness filters perception, not a true counter-proof that the cause-effect did not occur.

And from that place, it doesn’t matter if you waver, doubt, check, contradict, spiral, or affirm “I can’t shift”. None of it has ever mattered. Because it can’t. And that’s how you wake up.

I don’t know if I’m losing my mind, but the more I sit with this, the more I pick at it, the more it unravels. Circumstances, negative thoughts, wavering, checking your reality, contradicting assumptions—all of it starts to look absurd under the harsh, irrefutable light of what’s actually true.

Because if you are awareness—and you are—then everything flows from that awareness. Strip away awareness, and nothing remains. Take awareness away, and you are no longer aware of reality. Reality cannot exist without awareness.

You live and breathe because you are aware of it. Take that away, and do you exist?

Whether you believe you are THE creator or A creator, it doesn’t matter. You are the source, you are awareness, so you create everything. You are the creator, the source, the god of reality, whatever you want to call it.

And if we look at cause and effect—or call it decision, observation, assumption, whatever label you want—if I decide to do something, and I take the action, even if that action is simply affirming “I am in my DR,” there must be an effect because of that cause. The effect is that I shifted. I intended, I did, so it is. It’s impossible for it to be otherwise.

You can’t intend to do something, do it, and then not have it. Action is intention, and intention is action. And if you are the source, then wherever your observation goes, your awareness follows, and that’s the reality you’re living. It’s all in your awareness.

And that alone is the proof. The proof is that you did it. The proof is in the intention, the action, the decision, the observation, the assumption. So automatically, you MUST be in your DR, you MUST have your desire, because the cause is there, so the effect is there. You did the thing, so you have the thing. Full stop.

And if the question is, “Okay, if I’m in my DR because I decided and took the action, why am I not seeing it?”—the answer is: you are seeing it. You are. It doesn’t matter if your plan was to be in your DR already or have the ability to shift to it on command, YOU HAVE IT ALREADY.

“But my reality is that I’m still in my CR right now,” or “but my reality is that I still can’t shift no matter how hard I try.”

No. It’s an illusion. If you intended to have your desire, you have it because intention is action, and there cannot be action without an outcome.

The outcome cannot be that you failed, because you did not intend to fail

Your CR is an illusion layered on top of whatever your desire is. You’re not seeing it. It can’t be real, not if the cause has already created the effect. If you’re seeing your current reality, it’s illusion, illusion, illusion.

If you “don't have your desire right now” it’s an illusion BECAUSE you already have it. It’s not real.

Of course, you can explain it a million ways—“you’re observing not being there,” “you’re identifying with the one who hasn’t shifted,” “you still need to work for it a little more,” “Your assumptions are that you can’t shift so just change your assumptions”

Those explanations can be comforting, but they all collapse the second you go back to the irrefutable truth:

And the source is this: if you decide to do something and you take action (intention) to do it, you can’t not have the thing.

“But what if I failed—”

YOU CANNOT FAIL. YOU CANNOT CREATE FAILURE IF YOU DID NOT INTEND TO CREATE FAILURE.

Having the thing doesn’t always look like holding the end result in your hand immediately. You have it because you took action. You intended to shift, you did your method, you did your process, you assumed you would shift, you rolled over and went to sleep after saying “I’ll wake up in my DR.”

So you have shifted. It’s impossible not to.

And when you take this in fully, you see it: wavering, negative assumptions, all the noise—they’re illusions. None of it matters. They’re background static, clinging to a dying continuity that has no power over you anymore.

If I’m lying in bed at night, saying, “I’m shifting to my DR, I am in my DR,” I took the action, so I should have the thing. Any wavering, any “but I don’t see it,” is illusion. It can’t be real, because you already created it. Every bit of noise that shows up—“I’m not there yet,” “I can’t shift”—is illusion, illusion, illusion.

Wavering, contradicting yourself, doubting—yeah, all of that props up the illusion, sure. But none of it touches the fact that what’s done is done. If you intend to have your desire—by any action, whether it’s a split-second decision, a method, or months of trying—you already have it.

So even the “contradicting assumptions” like “obviously I don’t have my desire” are flimsy at best. Because under the larger observation—understanding that you did the thing, so now you have the thing—it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. The noise of contradiction doesn’t override the fact that you claimed it, and so it’s yours.

And once you see it for what it is, you can’t unsee it.

It doesn’t matter if you spiral at 3 AM whispering “I’ll never shift.”

It doesn’t matter if you open your eyes every morning and think “Guess I’m still here.”

It doesn’t matter if you side-eye the 3D and think “Obviously, I don’t have it.”

None of it matters. Not the doubts, not the contradictions, not the bad days you think ruined everything. They’re background noise. They’re illusions. You’re still getting what you decided on.

So yeah, go ahead and waver. Have as many negative thoughts and contradicting assumptions as you want. But know this:

The moment you truly understand that nothing—no dumb rules and restrictions—can stop you from having your desire because they are ILLUSIONS that don’t even make sense.… this will be you, mid-waver:

[demaparbat-hp]

She will (and he'll let her)

[thebxghag]

uhhhh new hyper fixation? Time will tell. Got obsessed with how Teopyon on bsky renders AND their rendition of zelink, so I decided to try it out. Happy with the results! I'll probably do more pieces in this painterly style going forward.

Zelda wants to kiss her champion and her champion is surprised by this turn of events.

[fallandfigs]

So I’ve been thinking a lot about how Hawkeye and Trapper might reconnect after the war, assuming they didn’t write to each other after Trapper left.

This is still rough, but I’m picturing Trapper, attending a medical conference in Indiana, going to pick up his morning paper in the hotel lobby. He starts flipping through the pages, skimming over the various articles, when he finds, on page 3, a picture of Frank Burns staring back at him.

Yes, that Frank Burns.

It’s the most unflattering picture he’s ever seen. Frank is squinting and sweating, the image is slightly fuzzy, and to top it all off the headline is equally embarrassing: “Major Mess at the VA.” Turns out Frank had gotten caught in a compromising position (with a female employee) by a VA police patrol. A patrol Frank himself was responsible for initiating (he’d called near-daily to chew out the shift-leads for dereliction of duty). Well, they finally took his complaints to heart. Quintessentially Frank all over.

And Trapper bursts out laughing right in the hotel lobby. He clips the page and stuffs it into a first class envelope so fast it’s on its way to Maine before the conference is even over.

It’s probably the last thing Hawkeye expects to receive but damn if it doesn’t get him cackling.

[strangethings-everywhere]

mekki leeper your soggy wet loser energy on st. denis medical has captivated me. i cannot stop thinking about you. you’re playing the nurse i would’ve had a crush on if i ended up in your ER

mekki leeper im obsessed with you

[chaoticgoodcaptain]

no thoughts, head empty, only the devil judge ost playing in the background

[lbhslefttiddie]

youve heard of sex flowers get ready for the flower that makes you into a celestial shoujo herione complete with particle effects you cannot turn the fuck off and creates a wifebeam so powerful it can incapacitate and maim and keeps making you burst into tears and fall on your ass which makes the wifebeam More Powerful and you also cannot turn this off either. and is also still, sort of, a sex flower

from one of my favorite fanfictions, Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam, a fic that defies description in the best possible way

[bucketofbugz]

got a bit of a late start on this episode because I took forever watching the II episode (no live reaction for that one because I was watching it and telling my reactions with my friend instead sorry </3)

but live Bugz reaction to TPOT 19!!! as always <3 probably gonna be another multi-part reaction but it's okay

oh she's madddddd

oooooooooooooo y'know I kinda wondered how Four was using Two's powers but this makes sense

also is the power exchange like the Twinkle in that everyone reacts to it differently? Because Fanny says it burns but the others don't seem like they're having any reactions.

no power for Grassy? :((

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT

that's??? WHY IS THE SKY LEAKING

BRACELETYYYY oh how I've missed you

:(((((

every time Grassy is scared I get sad

he isn't even one of my favorite characters he's actually pretty low compared to everyone else still in I just feel incredibly maternal towards him for some reason I cannot comprehend. he's just a baby someone save him

AND BOTTLE AND MARKER :((( someone save all of them actually

"can we find a distraction for these guys?" ough,,,, :((( Tree taking initiative though, I'm glad to see it

I don't hate anyone on Team 2 I'm so scared

I think I'd be the least upset about Snowball? But then Grassy would be sad.

:((((((((

I'm already really emotional today for Unrelated reasons I don't need to cry over a stupid blade of grass. I refuse

Tennis Ball trying to preserve Grassy's feelings while still trying to get him to leave him alone </3 chat I don't think I can make it through this episode.

this is what I mean when I say I've never been able to understand people who insist Grassy CAN'T be a child. he's talked to and handled as if he is one by the other characters. that's always been the main reason I believe in it, it has nothing to do with his behavior for me.

why are they meltingggggggg

OH

SO SHE WAS LITERALLY JUST WIPED OFF THE FACE OF EXISTENCE???? WHAT IN THE WORLD

can this episode finally make the fandom stop saying Two's being dramatic though? Like imagine choosing to keep your one friend out of the place that would keep her safe because you want to hang out with her still and then the universe just deletes her like I'd be so upset and guilty about it I probably wouldn't leave my bed either.

"AND I WANT THAT BACK AT SOME POINT- ugh. who cares" Twooooooo :(((

every new thing we learn about Golf Ball and Tennis Ball makes them funnier I don't wanna hear any arguments TB why would you do that

rest in peace TV the fandom probably won't miss you sorry bud </3

"man nobody respects me :(( time to make them kill each other" yeah because that's a normal train of thought

EW WHAT DID THEY DO TO HIM

Marker's green and Tree's purple what has become of this world

wow! :D that's horrifying!

ough they're falling apart,,,

Black Hole what are you doing </3 he misses the ones that left Death Pact so bad oh my god

Oh we love a girl who goes mad with power

it's gonna be so hard to defend Pencil after this episode isn't it. oh no. I'm so screwed. IT'S ALREADY SO HARD </3

bfdia Pin and tpot Pencil really out here making my job so much harder with each passing episode but I love them

oh my god,,,,, oh my god.

HEHHEGHEGEHGEHEHGEGHEGHEGHEGHEE I'm not even a third of the way through the episode and I love everything about it

this is so beautiful

the fourse making horse versions of the Four screech is so stupidly funny to me

leave my baby aloneeee </3

:(((((((((((

I'M SAD. STOP THIS AT ONCE

OWIE </3 Grassy just wants a friend that will make him feel safe.

Pencil's not a good choice though bud.

THE CUT I'M SOBBING

Pencil letting people off without killing them,,, omg,,,,,,

see guys she's not irredeemable she just wants to win and also get limitless power but that's not relevant right now trust me guys

also her waiting for the text to pop up on the screen got a giggle out of me

why is this just Grassy Suffers: The Episode

I always get caught so off guard whenever Donut gets injured because it takes my brain a second to process that it's cherry filling and not blood coming out of him

no that's so real Golf Ball it's okay I have so many unnamed projects

ALSO??? cool design

HE JUST??? GOT TURNED INTO ASH???

DONUT WHERE DID YOU GO

sniffles :(( I miss the original Death pact

"where'd you get that idea?" Black HOle cares SO MUCH this is tragic

I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND LIY THOUGH feeling like she had no support in her elimination would definitely have an effect on her and I understand it. But Death Pact wasn't intentionally trying to toss her aside </3 aughhhhhh this show is just miscommunication upon miscommunication made worse by every character's traumatic memories

Pencil the more you prove how strong you are the more Grassy's gonna keep following behind you like a baby duck

okay yeah I hit the image cap part 2 coming