#but it gets fluffy eventually

[thimblings]

~years later....

so @noctiscorvus sent me an incredible 'crowlycule' ask detailing out a scene, dialogue and all, and i decided i needed to draw it all credit for the idea and words goes to @noctiscorvus, i just couldn't help myself uwu;

the dagger is a snake and wings, with a mechanism in the handle that allows for poison to be held in it and then dripped out the mouth of the snake into a divot in the blade (idk if that actually would work but it's fantasy lemme have this).

idk why i keep drawing comics i do not understand good panelling i just have ideas i need TO GET OUT OF MY HEAD and sequential panels with drawings with white voids in the background are how i'm doing it lmao

anyway enjoy and i love ask suggestions, this made me so happy haha

[dreamyblanket]

Imagine sheep (idk lol) y/n dragon meeting longan I bet longan would be wondering "how come the dragon kind has been reduced into this... so cute and floofy?!!"

I do a whole bunch of rambling in the tags for this one ^^u But! Dragon y/n would ask them so many questions about the time when dragons were common!

[imaredshirt]

Give me a Stan who thinks Fiddleford doesn't know how to throw a punch, much less defend himself in a fight with your average goon, so one morning he takes it upon himself to show the nerd a few basic jabs and hooks and maybe an uppercut or two behind the cabin, because let's face it, there's gonna be a time when Stan can't be there to take a hit for the guy or defend his nerd butt. So he's gonna teach him some stuff for his own peace of mind.

Fiddleford just kind of genially goes along with it, following Stan around the back of the cabin and watching with hands on his hips and a smile as Stan gets into position.

"This is one of the most basic punches in the world, so pay attention, 'cause I'm not gonna show you again," Stan says, knees slightly bent and fists up.

Fidds nods. "You've got my full attention, Stanley."

Stan isn't sure if he's imagining the way Fidds is eyeing him up and down, but he automatically flexes his arms a little more than he needs to. Up ahead, Ford is sitting on a tree stump and taking samples of the air or something (Stan had stopped listening to Ford's explanation once his words went from interesting to Big Science Shit that Stanley Does NOT Care About) and he's watching them with this amused grin, rolling his eyes skyward when Stan won't stop flexing and showing his arms off.

Stan ignores him and rolls his shoulders before jabbing his fists forward in a quick one-two. "There - you catch that?"

Fidds has got his arms crossed now and gives Stan a thumbs up. "Sure did!"

"See, just like this," Stan says, and shows him again despite saying earlier that he wouldn't.

He shows him a few more punches, going over each one a couple times before telling the engineer to mirror him, even getting in close to adjust the guy's scrawny arms and balled fists. He's being real professional about it and everything and doesn't understand why Ford keeps grinning and shaking his head at them, which is making him a little incensed but he stamps it down because Fidds is watching him with this nerdy, dopey smile while letting himself be maneuvered around and he's gotta learn to defend himself 'cause Stan can't stand the thought of some jerkwad wiping that smile off the nerd's face.

"See," he says near the end of the lesson, tapping his fist right against Fidds’s chin. "Do it right and your fist'll hit right here."

Fidds tilts his head a fraction at the touch. "Well alright then, seems easy enough."

"Yeah, like I said, if you do it right. Gimme your hand-" he takes Fidds’s wrist and taps the guy's balled fist against his own stubbly jaw. "Right here. You got that?"

Fidds nods. "Sure do!"

"Good." Stan drops Fidds’s wrist and gets into position again. "Then come on - lay one on me."

Fidds pulls back and blinks at him. "Come again?"

"Hit me!" Stan taps his jaw. "Right here!"

The guy suddenly looks nervous and galnces over at Ford for help. "Hit you? Stanley, I don't think-"

This is what Stan means. Fidds isn't always gonna be able to look to him or Ford to save him. He gets this weird, uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Fidds facing off against some asshat on his own, and that alone is enough to keep him from letting the guys off easy, if only to get rid of the weird feeling. Maybe a bit selfish but he doesn't care.

"Ah, come on, one little punch ain't gonna hurt ya, Fidds."

"I'm not worried about me," Fidds says, and then frowns when Stan barks a laugh.

"You think you're gonna hurt ME?"

Fidds is still frowning when Ford calls over in an amused, warning tone, "This is not a good idea, Stanely!"

"Just worry about your air test or whatever and leave us alone," Stan calls back. Ford shrugs and scribbles something in his journal, and when Stan turns back to Fidds, Fidds is finally getting into position.

He looks unsure, watching Stan nervously as Stan stands before him with his arms crossed.

"Hey, not bad form - you ready?"

"Well, I suppose so," Fidds says, accent coming in a little thicker than before. "Stan, if you're sure, I should probably warn ya-"

"Don't tell me nothing, just punch me!"

Fidds presses his lips into a line and throws his fist - and jabs Stan on the chin just hard enough to tilt Stan's head half an inch to the side.

"That's it?" Stan guffaws and shakes his head. "That was barely a tap!"

"I don't wanna hurt ya!" Fidds says, sounding so conflicted that Stan gets this urge to pull him into a headlock and ruffle his hair and drive the worry away.

Instead he riles him up.

"Please," he says. "Fidds, look - one of these days I'm not gonna be there to take a hit for you, and then what're you gonna do? Just let some jerk punch ya around?"

Fidds looks slightly perplexed. "Where is this all comin from? No, Stanley, I am NOT gonna just let some jerk punch me around."

"Good! So you gotta learn to defend yourself!" Fidds still looks unsure, so Stan tries a different angle. "Okay, how 'bout this - what if some jerks are beating up on me and Ford, huh? You're just gonna let em?"

Fidds looks up. "What? No, I am not!"

"You're gonna defend us?"

"Dangnabbit, Stan - of course I am!"

"Not gonna let us get our teeth kicked out?"

"What!? No!"

"Then show me!" Stan slaps a hand against his own chin. "Right here, come on! I'm some jerk who just threw your friend Stan to the ground and I'm about to kick him in the gut, what're ya gonna-"

The blow lands hard. Stan's head jerks to the side and he's thrown off balance, and he sees actual stars before his vision clears again and he realizes he's crumpled on the ground. His head swims as hands pull him around onto his back.

"Mother o pearl!" Fidds gasps. He's got his hands on Stan's face, careful touch at complete odds with the punch he'd just landed in the same place. "Are you alright? I am so sorry! I hit ya and you weren't even ready and - you just got me so riled up and I tried to tell ya and I shoulda said earlier instead o just lettin ya show me all those moves, but I just wanted to, well - goddangit, Ford, this ain't funny."

Ford's laughing as he comes up behind them, looking down at where Stan is staring kinda dazedly up at Fidds, who's kneeling by his side in the cool grass. "We did try to tell him, Fiddleford."

"Tell me what?" Stan demands. His jaw is already aching but Fidds’s hands feel kinda good so he doesn't tell him to move.

"Fiddleford was a boxing champion back back in his hometown," Ford says.

Stan blinks. "Bwuh-?"

"Not much of a champion," Fidds says with a wince, but he's blushing a bit as he goes on, "It was never anythin official, but - well, I did win more than a few matches at some backyard parties, see, and - well, people usually don't think I got any hittin power or can defend myself, but my Ma's been all too happy to teach me since I was little, and-"

The guy's rambling, and Stan quits being able to understand what he's saying half way through cause the accent is coming in thick and Ford’s chuckling and standing there looking proud of his best friend and Stan’s a little worried that he's still jarred from the hit, cause when he looks at Fidds kneeling there, one hand one Stan's chest and the other bashfully rubbing his neck while he rambles on - he's still seeing stars.

Later, while Stan sits in the living room with an bag of ice in his jaw and Fiddleford sitting next to him, still rambling about all the times he'd knocked a few guys into the mud in some backcountry hoedown get-together or whatever, Stan can lean back and relax and grin, knowing Fidds is gonna be just fine.

He can't wait to teach him wrestling.

[fandommothfreak]

Imagining a shamelessly self-indulgent fanfic where Vi gets transported to the Everything's Happy Universe, somehow finds out she died there and that her family survived, assumes she's the cause of everything bad ever, and goes rogue.

Like she doesn't think she can go back home because she's scared that her presence will fuck things over for everyone. And she also can't risk interacting with the alternate versions of her family that she has here (despite how much she wants to), because what if that screws up their timeline and everything goes to shit for them too? She has nothing and no one, and she's not going to kill herself, so she ends up just -- doing what she was doing in her home dimension. Gets a crap apartment, joins an illegal fighting ring, and wallows in her misery.

It's like that for a few weeks, months maybe, before Vander finds her passed out in an alleyway. A black-haired girl that resembles his dead daughter so strongly it feels like his heart gets ripped open all over again, and she's hurt and she's not waking up, and he needs to help her. So he takes her inside, dresses her wounds, and cleans her face (the black paint covering her VI tattoo holds strong). Maybe he tells Silco, gets him to help. Maybe Vi wakes up to the monster that hurt her family, like, checking her temperature or something.

So she punches him in the face, obviously, and Vander comes barging in at the commotion, and Vi freaks the fuck out. She's trapped; tiny room, no windows; Vander -- Vander, her dead father -- is blocking the door; Silco is three fucking feet away from her in the same goddamn room and was just doing who-knows-what to her unconscious body; and Vi? Vi is mid-panic attack, searching for escape, not listening to a fucking word coming out of Vander's mouth. She needs to get out. She needs to get the fuck away before she fucks everything up for everyone and she needs these people to stop looking at her.

Vander and Silco, of course, both see that she's terrified. Silco backs up, gives her space, and Vander holds his hands up, palms out, trying to signal that he's not a threat. He tries to explain what's going on, that no one here is going to hurt her, but that's not what she's worried about, and as soon she spots an opening -- as soon as Vander takes that small step towards her, leaving space between him and the door behind him -- Vi books it. Shoves right past him, up the stairs, and out of The Last Drop, ignoring the startled shouts behind her. (Maybe Powder sees her go. Maybe she, too, is torn up inside by the striking resemblance to her older sister.)

She gets back to her place. She gets back to the shitty little life she's built in this world. And she prays that's the end of it.

It's not.

Vander has imprinted on this girl. She's a stray, like Mylo and Claggor were strays before he took them in. And she's hurting, like (his) Vi and Powder were hurting before he dropped his gauntlets and carried them away from the battlefield. He wants to help her, if he can. Not only that, but she was beat to absolute hell, and he needs to know who did it and why, just in case it's the symptom of a larger problem that needs to be addressed.

So Vander asks around. Silco helps. And Vi may be trying to keep a low profile, but she's still Vi. She wins nearly every fight she's thrown into in the pits, and when she sees someone in real trouble, she steps in. She's hardly invisible, and she ends up kind of making a name for herself, unintentionally. It's not incredibly difficult to find her -- not for them, and not for this universe's Powder, Ekko, Mylo, and Claggor, who find out one-by-one about this random runaway emo chick that broke Silco's nose and kicks ass in a very illegal underground fighting ring.

But here's the thing: the fighting ring Vi's a part of is kind of... inhumane. But Vi doesn't fully realize it because she spent a large portion of her formative years in Stillwater, which was significantly worse. She's fine with being mistreated -- low-key feels like she deserves it, even. The issue comes in when she breaks out of her depressive haze enough to notice the younger, decidedly less deserving recruits getting the same treatment she is. I don't know any of the specifics of the situation, but I do know that I want Vi stepping up and putting herself in the line of fire to protect the people around her. She's a protector at heart, and she's found a tiny piece of herself again.

And what ends up happening is Vi gets progressively more frustrated as her undead dad, his not-husband, and a terrifyingly well-adjusted version of her estranged sister keep trying to track her down and succeeding. And then Ekko joins in on the efforts, and then Claggor, and Mylo, and even Benzo, until she's desperately trying to dodge her entire, irritatingly persistent not-family while also keeping the people she's unwittingly grown to care about safe from the Unspecified Bad Guys controlling the Unspecified Bad Situation in the fighting pits.

I don't have any concrete plot for this or dialogue or anything. It's just vibes. The kiddos thinking Vi is cool as fuck and the dads trying to adopt this feral not-really-a-kid-anymore-but-when-you're-that-old-everyone-looks-like-a-baby child and Vi being unwillingly absorbed into this new found family that hurts to look at because this is what her own family could have been if she hadn't fucked it all up.

tl;dr Vi is a skittish, battered stray cat, and AU!Vander and co. are trying to lure her to safety with treats and affection.

[likesdoodling]

A day in the life of taking care of hyperactive elflings~

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

ohhh for the event can I get Vil and prompt 3 with reader as the ghost? ^_^

Words Unsaid; Vil Schoenheit

Content; Gender-neutral reader, angst, pining

Content Warning; Reader death (not described)

Word Count; 700+

A/N; Hi Haru! ... I decided to lean more into angst; I am so sorry Vil.

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Vil’s hands were shaking, and he tried to make a sound but his voice was caught in his throat. 

His breath came out in white puffs, the Pomefiore lounge had become freezing cold as the fire died out. Dim light from the filtered moonlight cast everything in silver and greys. Long shadows crept across the floor like they were reaching out for him.

Vil.

It was barely audible, but Vil could hear the gentle hiss of his own name whispered into his ear, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He took in a deep breath though, trying to calm his racing heart which betrayed how affected he was by his current circumstances.

He closed his eyes, shutting out everything else and focused solely on what he could hear. And with how on edge he was, he could have heard a pin drop. But he didn’t hear anything. That was the issue, alongside everything else.

Normally he would have been able to hear the muffled snoring of his fellow dorm members, or the gentle ticking of the clock, or even the standard sounds that an older building may make. But he heard nothing. Only the steady thump thump of his heart in his ears.

Vil opened his eyes again, and he stared at the figure that was now standing within arm’s reach of him.

It was you, but not as Vil knew you.

You floated closer towards him, and Vil dared not to move.

Ghost, spectre, phantom. That was what you now were.

But he had seen you that very day. Still very much alive. Still breathing.

“What happened,” he whispered, taking a step forward, trying to close the distance. 

You moved back, and looked him in the eyes as tears fell down your cheeks. And then you vanished, the fire coming back to life, and all the sounds coming back.

Vil raked his hands through his hair, trying to come to some reasonable answer for why you were here, why you were a ghost. And he found himself running as fast as his legs would carry him, coming to a halt at Ramshackle.

He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again and called your name. But all he was answered with was silence, and a sense of dread taking hold.

Please forgive me.

He knocked the door down with his magic, and made his way into the house. Vil looked in every room of the mansion, but all he found was dust; even Grim was nowhere to be seen.

This is a nightmare— No it isn’t, you know that. But how he wanted this to be nothing more than just a simple nightmare. If only it were as easy as that.

His breath came out in white puffs again, and everything stilled like time itself was frozen.

“Please,” Vil could barely recognize his own voice, desperation was something he was not well acquainted with, “tell me.”

You stayed out of sight though and stared at Vil, wanting nothing more than to embrace him. To feel his warmth one more time. To tell him something that had been weighing heavy on your chest for months.

You never had the chance, always being pulled in every which way or dealing with one problem or another. And now? 

… it would not serve either of you any good. It would only cause more heartbreak, a tragedy that belonged in a play really, instead of reality.

Vil clenched his fist and rolled back his shoulders, “You’re still here, so you have something left that must be important. Let me help you.”

Something left, was in fact, someone.

Vil had always been outside of your reach, a star high up in the sky, and that distance was now further than ever.

That’s why you said nothing of your own feelings about him.

That’s why you said nothing, leaving the words unsaid.

“You can’t. Please, forget about me.”

Vil wouldn’t forget you. He would never forget about you, the person that he could be his entire self around.

Perhaps it was friendship, but something that screamed from his chest that it wasn’t.

And he would never get the chance to see what could be.

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @ithseem @moonsoup01637 @lucid-stories @syrenkitsune @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

[gurlgallade]

Updates on the talksprites. Four has three new friends! Still only two arms between them all, though.

[dixenjackal]

Can it be Christmas yet puhlease

[vanyathedoll]

i made that zombie apocalypse au

[some-pers0n]

I don't mean to be a Hater but I literally cannot see a confrontation where Spy comes clean to Scout that he's his father and it Scout accepting it. Did you forget you're talking about THE SCOUT?? Hired mercenary who frequently brags about how well he can bash a guy's skull in? There's no way Spy would tell Scout about it and they all leave unscathed.

[itadooori]

2 ships: inhun and daehun 🙏❣️

inhun

daehun

[as-thra]

There are many endings where he joins AM, each one having a different reason why

He doesn't survive in any of them

@greeneyeofenvy asked what could've led aslan to join am n here it is :']]] u all get to see it too

somerild belongs to @sunglow-fae !!

[makenna-made-this]

BAWKtober Day 11 - Pumpkin Patch Party

Party bawkers in the hoooousee toniiiight

[spacedace]

Part 2 of the House of Elle series is here!

It was those moments just before Tim left that stuck out in his mind the most. Draping the homemade quilt over Kon and Jane. Gently brushing the little girl’s wild, dark curls back from her face. Pressing a soft kiss to Kon’s forehead. The warmth that had burned in his chest as he just stood there for a beat and looked at them, peaceful for the first time in weeks. He imagined a world maybe not so far away where the two fell asleep like that on a different couch in a cozy living room, worn out from a happy day spent at the beach or the park or anywhere else they found joy and excitement. Where Tim was right there with them, helping to tuck the little girl safely between himself and Kon where no one could hurt her. - Elle tries to keep up the ruse of being a Kryptonian while trying to figure out a way back to her Grave with mixed results. People keep asking her questions she can't answer, Tim and Kon are way too nice to keep lying to and the world seems to have become an ectoplasmic wasteland. With her Core acting strangely and something dangerous looming on the horizon, Elle's quickly running out of time. It'll all be okay though, once she gets back to Amity Park and find Danny. She just has to get back.

[darkeraurora]

Updated Masterlist

All my fics are NSFW. Please pay attention to the content warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

These are also on AO3 and Wattpad.

ADMISSIONS

Status: ONGOING

Ghost meets original FMC and has to deal with the F word (feelings). Lots of stuff in here: cutsey fluff, bits of domesticity, hurt/comfort, found family, to PTSD fallout, facing traumas, angst, loss of virginity, soft dom Simon, and some VERY delicious smut. Something for everyone. Check the trigger warnings ⚠️

Chapter 1 - Unexpected

Chapter 2 - Opening Up

Chapter 3 - Small Moments

Chapter 4 - Just Kiss Already

Chapter 5 - Mission First

Chapter 6 - Fairytales (Coming soon) Author's Note: The time gap is currently between these chapters. Wherever this note appears is where I'm currently working.

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

ONESHOTS

Nice Manners Status: Complete. Word Count: 7192(ish).

Smut with no plot whatsoever. Hard dom Simon disciplining the team's sex toy. 25/10 spicy.

[hibernating-stag]

I just saw Dizzys Faust afro today and I have newfound hope that Venoms keeps his eye it would be so GOOD

I gave up hope because no one else had a unique afro design… but now the gates back open baby!