#hahahah that's a funny word

[snakegirllovehandles]

I drove for meals on wheels again today, after a long stretch when I couldn't because my car had a severe oil leak.

It's nice to be doing that again.

🙞-------------------------------------------🙜

I went to an estate sale on the way back from the meals on wheels office.

I'm feeling kind of strange, thinking about all the things I learned about the person who's estate it was just by seeing the stuff that was for sale.

She was a musician. Played jazz saxophone. She had lots of costume jewelry. She had a dog. In her last years she was bed bound or nearly so. She was born in the 30s, judging by the photograph I saw. And she had either grandchildren or nieces & nephews.

And, I think, she lived alone.

There's a strange feeling that I have, thinking about these things. The passage of time. Death, the end of connection between people. It's like sadness, but it's also like, reflection. Wistfulness, the barest hint of what it's like to watch a tragic play.

Finality, nostalgia, and a smidge of melancholy.

The old world blues.

[auroreliis]

What about Reader with Deadpool powers and humor?

Oh Jason would love you.

Bruce would be stressed to the core. Despite the fact that you would probably be fine if you got injured, he is NOT taking chances. There will not be a single scrape on you. He doesn't want it to become a norm for you!!!!!!

And if there is a scrape on you? Then all hell breaks loose. Yeah, you'd better heed his words...

Dick, much like Bruce, is rather stressed, though he's a bit less obvious about it.

Huh? You wanna go run through a field of landmines for fun? Hahahahaa, sure, whatever you say. Now, come on. Let's get you to your room ^^ (You're getting locked in the basement tonight.).

Jason finds it hilarious. What a legend you are, absolutely precious. Would that he could take you out on patrols (You have powers, you'd be fine.). Even Dick is starting to get annoyed at Jay's laughter echoing through the manor whenever you say the most mundane thing ever. Be careful before they forbid you two from spending time together for good.

Tim is trying to relax around you, but he remains on edge.

Oh, hahahah. Yeah. Don't jump out that window, he really doesn't want to board it up...it's his last way to access fresh air.

Stephanie likes spending time with you most of the time, but sometimes you do things that are too reckless for her. Like, she gets it, the powers and everything, but do you really have to tumble down the staircase do get down quicker?

Cassandra is somehow always ahead of you and always behind the corner. You can never seem to get a moment away from her. She's probably worried, but you'll literally be fine, so why is she just standing there and watching you? Also, she's the one who stops you from going to the kitchen and experimenting with your powers using the knives and forks.

Duke is absolutely stressed. It doesn't help that he takes all your jokes wayyyy too seriously.

"WAIT NO- DON'T TRY TO BASH YOUR HEAD ON THE COUNTER TO SEE IF YOU CAN MAKE BRAIN SOUP- Oh...you...you weren't going to? Okay...good."

Damian thinks you're really funny, but he has to restrain himself from laughing at your jokes because he knows that they're made in bad taste.

He sees that Bruce isn't laughing and has to hold it back too, but wow, he really wanted to laugh when you said that you'd rather get crushed by a meteorite than hug Tim's sweaty form.

Also, he thinks that your power is really cool and he would give an arm and a leg for it.

[the-mang0tree]

the story isn't that impressive, just that today we had a group activity where we could get extra points for the Class if we answered questions ranging from common knowledge, to riddles and questions from the Actual subjects we saw in class

now, for context, only me and a friend are Really into transformers (with me being the most insane one about it) and the rest don't really care about tf. so i hope u can understand my surprise when the teacher started asking things —in the Common Knowledge section of the activity lol— such as "what was the object the autobots were looking for in the transformers 2007 movie", "what does the character 'brains' from the transformers movies change into", "what is the rest of starscream's dialogue when he said 'sometimes cowards....' ", "can transformers change into humans"— which aren't very hard questions and i'm Assuming he just googled random transformers quizzes but, yknow. not every day do i get extra points for Answering tf trivia

if i had a nickel for every time transformers Knowledge got me Points at school, I'd have two. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part seven | r.c

summary:

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

OR; You deal with an intruder, lose your temper and Rafe and you take a shower.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ only! (oral male/female receiving)

word count: 2,6k

author's note: long awaited im guessing HAHAHAH i hope you have survived so far. finally introducing the third character of this series.... you all know him. as usual, happy reading and i look forward to hearing about your thoughts <3

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pt. seven: "tell yourself you can always stop"

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The “intruder” was standing shock still, the two of you staring at each other. You didn’t think that was going to hurt you or anything, but the rollling pin was still raised in the air, ready to strike any second. While you didn’t necessarily share the disdain for pogues as your friends did, it didn’t mean that you trusted him. He broke into your house after all.

JJ Maybank, possibly the definition of a pogue, was standing in your hallway, hands raised in defense as he eyed the rolling pin in your hand. He looked almost bored.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Uh, standing. What are you doing, princess?”

You let the nickname slide, glaring at him.

“Defending myself against an intruder.”

“Intruder?

JJ barked out a laugh, his hands clutching his stomach like he just heard the funniest joke in his life, though he quickly raised his hands again when you pointed the rolling pin closer at his face.

“You just broke into to my house, what are you if not an intruder?” you asked, affronted.

“I didn’t break in on purpose!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally broke into my house??”

“Hey, to be fair, you left the door unlocked.”

“Are you blaming the victim right now?”

JJ bit back a grin, his hand slowly reaching out to lower the rolling pin. You let him, but remained wary, your arms dropping to your sides.

“What are you doing here JJ?”

JJ took off his cap, running his hand through his messy hair once before putting his cap back on.

You tried to ignore that you thought he was hot.

“I was coming out of Ruby’s and trying not to be seen by anyone, thought I could hide out here for a bit,” he explained and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ruby Evans? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah well that would’ve been good to know before I hooked up with her and almost got caught by said boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Figured JJ would be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Obviously you knew JJ, but only really on the surface. You didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But you knew that Rafe didn’t really like him, neither did Topper, but mostly because JJ was John B’s best friend. Kelce didn’t really have much of an opinion except for the fact that he thought JJ was hot, so that was that. What you did know, however, was that JJ shared the same disdain for kooks that Rafe did for pogues, so to catch JJ on the other side of the island was newsworthy.

“I’m surprised you’d get caught up with Ruby,” you said. “I thought you hated kooks.”

JJ merely shrugged, grinning at you.

“Why deprave the female population of the other side of the island of an experience with me only because of something they can’t change?”

You snorted, biting back a laugh because you knew that if he thought you thought he was funny, it was over for you. JJ took the moment to let his eyes wander over you, and you stopped yourself from wrapping the linen shirt around your exposed body. This was your house and you weren’t gonna let someone else make you feel uncomfortable. Much less a guy.

“Had a pool party?”

“Something like that,” you replied, meeting JJ’s gaze straight on. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his boyish grin growing.

“Should I take it personally that I wasn’t invited?”

You gave him a look and JJ winked at you, before his face lit up, like he remembered something.

“Hey, your parents are organizing the spring fling, right?”

“Yes, why?” You asked back, suspicious.

“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need some money to fix up my bike, and the country club always pays well. But the hostess kind of hates my guts, so she’d never hire me if I applied for the job. You think you could put in a good word for me?”

It was odd how JJ was able to switch from sarcastic to bashful the minute he needed something from you. You had heard from other girls that he was something of a womanizer, and the fact that he just came out of Ruby’s house just proved the point. So you tried not to put much worth on the grin he was giving you.

Most people would probably call it charming. You weren’t most people.

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool,” JJ said, honest to god pointing finger guns at you. This guy was unreal. He turned to leave the way he entered - through the patio door - but before he shut the door, he looked back to you, one foot already out of the house. “You’re not so bad for a kook, princess.”

JJ slipped through the small gap, closing the sliding door behind him. With a deep sigh, you locked the door, pulling down the blinds for good measure before you headed back to the kitchen. You put the rolling pin back in its place, shutting the dishwasher before switching it on, trying to act like that just didn’t happen.

Turning off all the lights downstairs, you headed towards the hallway, preparing to go to bed when two short raps came on the front door before it opened, as Rafe let himself in like he had been invited over. For some reason, it made you mad. You let out a sigh as you took him in and he raised a brow at you.

“You really need to lock the doors when you’re home alone precious,” Rafe commented and you snorted under your breath.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you freed your hair from the claw clip, shaking your head out, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Did you really clean up the mess in the kitchen by yourself?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I would’ve helped you,” Rafe pointed out, annoyed.

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were staying over,” you retorted, just as annoyed. “Or that you were coming back.”

“Why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe’s irritation was evident in his voice and you let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I’m just tired, okay?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling your shoulders slump a little. “If you came to fuck I don’t think I’m really in the mood today, so you can just leave. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned to walk into your bedroom upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. As you stripped down, throwing you bikini and the overshirt in the hamper, you thought you heard the front door shut. You tried not to let the angry tears in your eyes fall as you stepped into the shower, instead, you turned the water on, letting it drench your whole head. Fucker, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that he’d just leave like that. Before all of this, he never would’ve just left.

Then again, you wouldn’t be in this situation either. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even heat the door to the bathroom clink open. Only when the glass door of your shower squeaked, you were made aware of Rafe’s presence as he stepped inside. You really had to work on your spatial awareness. He stepped under the shower stream, the water immediately soaking him up, your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Rafe gave you a displeased look, pressing himself against your backside.

You kept quiet for a few seconds, the knot in your chest unfurling slightly, and you found yourself leaning against him.

“I thought you left.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

Rafe’s voice was quiet as he murmured into your ear, his hand coming up behind you to cup around your breast. You bit back a sarcastic reply, because surely this wasn’t something a best friend would do.

“I wouldn’t just leave when I know you’re upset about something, you think you’re just a piece of ass to me?”

“I don’t know what we are these days,” you muttered, half hoping that Rafe didn’t hear you, but based on the way his hand clenched around your waist, he did hear. He turned you around in his arms, frowning down at you.

“Precious,” Rafe said, his voice tight. “You’re my best friend. Yes, the sex is fucking great, but it’s not worth losing you over. If you’re starting to question our friendship, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked as the day you were born, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes, trying to clear your head. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

Rafe took a step back. It was small, he barely moved, but to you it felt like a mile. You couldn’t go back to just being only his best friend, so before he could move away even further, you reached out to pull him back in, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him. Rafe grunted into the kiss, seemingly hesitant for a second before he all but melted into you, his hand wrapping around your hair to tilt your head further up. You lost yourself in the kiss for a second, your hands intertwining on the nape of his neck before you pulled away when it got too heated.

“I’m too tired for sex,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the warmth unfurling between your legs.

Rafe eyed you for a second, before he nodded, turning you in his arms again, his chest against your back.

“Let me take care of you.“

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the water off, before he ran his hand down your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs. Your breath hitched, pressing further into him.

“Rafe.”

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue lapping up the water droplets that clung to your shoulder. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

His hand ventured further down, one finger dipping into the warmth of your folds and you let out a soft sigh, the stress leaving your body. You had half a mind to tell him to stop, you you found yourself saying nothing. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, searching for something to hold onto while the pad of his thumb stroked circles over your most sensitive little spot of nerves, having you moan out his name.

“That’s it,” Rafe said, leaning further down so he could slip his finger into your cunt, your gummy walls opening up to his digits, your knees growing weak. Both of you were still wet from the interrupted shower, and you should’ve been long cold by now, but all you felt was Rafe’s warm body pressed up against you and the heat coiling in your lower stomach. Rafe’s movements weren’t fast paced, but he applied pressure in just the right places, you felt your orgasm coming in no time.

“Shit,” you gasped, laying your head against his chest, catching Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing a hunger in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, but before you could question it, he kissed you, stealing your breath away. The kiss was the last thing that threw you over the edge and with a small, breathy moan you came apart on Rafe’s fingers, clinging onto him for dear life. As you caught your breath, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, steadying you.

“You good?”

You let out a grunt, squeezing his wrist. “You know the shower is one of the most dangerous places to have sex in?”

“… That doesn’t sound right.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, taking your hands off of Rafe, testing your footing, before you turned, getting on your knees.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” you asked back, wrapping your hand around his cock and Rafe let out a moan, carding his fingers through your hair. “Your dick has been pressed into my back for the past 15 minutes, let me suck you off.”

“If you insist.”

Rolling your eyes wordlessly, you pumped his cock for a but, before licking a strip along his shaft, making Rafe curse above you. You only smirked to yourself, before you wrapped your lips around his cock, knowing that was all he wanted right now.

“Fuck,” Rafe hissed, his grip on your hair tightening, thought you didn’t mind, your focus solely on sucking the life out of him. Your tongue was pressing against the small slit on his tip as you moved your mouth along the length of his cock, hand still wrapped around his lower base, where you couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t a beginner when it came to cock sucking, but you weren’t a professional either. It was safe to say that Rafe was pretty content with your skills though.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you took in as much of his cock as possible, continuing to suck on him, a mixture of saliva and Rafe’s precum smearing around the edges of your mouth, making a whole mess in your face, though you continued unperturbed.

“Shit, you really give the best head prec-”

Your nails dug into his thighs, and he cut off, replacing your nickname with your real name, and you eased off his thigh, sighing softly as the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, hoping it wouldn’t bruise again. It didn’t take long until Rafe slowly started thrusting into your mouth, his hips stuttering that you knew he was close.

“I’m about to come,” he warned you, his voice hoarse and the grip on your hair less hard. You only let out a hum of acknowledgement, not lessening your movement until Rafe spurted his cum down your throat, groaning out your name. You took your mouth off his cock, having swallowed his bitter cum and wiped your mouth, satiated.

Meanwhile, Rafe was leaning on the shower wall, gently extricating his hand out of your wet hair, heaving breaths.

“You’re a minx,” he told you, pulling you up for a quick kiss. You only grinned against his lips, swatting at his bare chest. Nipping on your lower lip, Rafe reached behind you to turn the shower back on, to finally finish what you had come here for in the first place. Together, you showered quickly and thoroughly and as Rafe washed the soapy suds off of you, hands all over your body, it felt intimate but not in a sexual way. You tried not to think about it too much.

When the both of you were done, hands all prune-y, you exited the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe and handing a towel to Rafe so he could dry off. You did a quick run through of your nighttime routine, while Rafe watched bemusedly as he brushed his teeth, but didn’t comment on it. When you were both done, crawling into bed, your hair still damp, you settled into your side of the bed (which was a wild statement in itself, as Rafe turned off the light in the bedroom, before getting in bed on the other side. You were content to fall asleep, safe and soundly tucked in, when Rafe reached under the blankets to pull you close against his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck.

Your cheeks heated, and you side eyed Rafe as he got comfortable in bed, your shoulders tense.

“I meant what I said,” he then muttered, arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever feel like our friendship is changing or this makes me feel like you can’t trust me, you gotta tell me precious. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you mumbled, laying a hand on his, trying to reassure him, even though your heart was racing a mile a minute. Rafe didn’t reply, and before long, his breath evened out, but you were still wide awake.

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author's note: okay real talk, how many of you guessed who the intruder was???

[dr3amlab]

melt, jungkook x reader

SUMMARY — "I can't tell when your hair ends and mine begins"

PAIRING — jungkook x reader

GENRE — one shot, fluffffff 

WORD COUNT — idk, but not a lot hahahah.

WARNINGS — I didn’t proofread !!

The room was quiet, and not a sound could be heard from the usually buzzing streets of the city. A soft glow, coming from the bedside lamp, filled the space, casting long shadows on the wall. The entire space smelled like coconut and vanilla, and you mentally made a note to buy the same detergent.

Your heart beats a steady rhythm, a counterpoint to the quietude. You'd just slipped into bed, feeling relaxed after taking a shower. You had a long day at work and all you wanted was to be in your lover's arms.

The world outside faded as you nestled into the warmth of the sheets, and Jungkook’s arm naturally found its way around you. You lie there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, but with a space between you that feels infinite in its intimacy.

You gently grabbed his right hand. Large, calloused palms, yet with soft, delicate fingers. You first traced the lines that tell stories, those lines that could tell you his entire fate and you secretly wished those same palms made you part of Jungkook's future forever. Then, you move to the tiny scars that tell stories of scraped knees and youthful adventures. His eyes are closed, a serene mask over the emotions you know churn within him. 

As your fingertips glide over his skin, you feel a tenderness you haven't felt before. This is a sacred space, a universe you're just beginning to explore. A universe you're grateful to be able to explore. 

His eyes flutter open, and you see a flash of vulnerability in their depths. It's a small scar, a delicate white line curving just beneath his eye. “Where did you get this?” you ask softly, your voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Jungkook's eyes flicker with a hint of amusement before turning serious. "Oh, this one," he traces the scar with his thumb,"it's from when I was a kid. Fell off my bike, scraped my face pretty bad." A small laugh escapes his lips. "I looked like a pirate for a while."

You chuckle softly, imagining him as a tiny pirate. "A pirate, huh? I can definitely see that." Your fingers trace the scar, feeling its smooth texture. It's a testament to his past, a part of the story that has shaped him

"I guess being a pirate toughened you up," you tease, a soft smile playing on your lips. He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. There's a boyish charm about him that's both endearing and captivating. 

Your fingers continue their exploration, moving from the scar to the delicate curve of his eyebrow, then to the bridge of his nose. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you find yourself drawn deeper into this intimate moment. You can feel your heart racing. It's funny how he got your heart beating this fast even after being married for 4 years.

Jungkook's breathing deepens, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of his presence. The room is filled with a quiet intensity, a shared secret between the two of you. 

As your fingers trace the outline of his lips, you feel a surge of desire. You want to kiss him, to taste the sweetness of his mouth. But you hesitate, unsure if this is the right moment. The air between you is thick with unspoken words, and you're afraid of ruining this perfect intimacy. 

A gentle smile spreads across Jungkook's face as your fingers continue their exploration. His eyes, once filled with a playful glint, now soften, mirroring the tranquility of the room. You can feel the tension melting away from his body as your touch becomes a soothing balm. 

The silence between you is filled with a comforting warmth, a silent conversation of souls. You trace the line of his jaw, feeling the gentle stubble against your fingertips. It's a contrast to the smoothness of his skin.

Your heart skips a beat as your fingers brush against his lips. They are soft and inviting, a promise of sweetness to come. You hesitate for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The anticipation is almost unbearable. 

Jungkook's eyes flutter open, and he looks at you with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His gaze holds you captive, and you feel a surge of courage. Slowly, you lean in, your lips brushing against his. It's a soft, gentle kiss, a whisper of affection. 

As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. Jungkook's arms tighten around you,pulling you closer. You melt into his embrace, surrendering to the moment.

The world fades away as you lose yourself in the magic of this connection. Time stands still, and all that matters is the two of you, lost in a world of pure bliss. 

Jungkook's gazes at you with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His breath is warm against your lips as he whispers, "You have the softest touch," his voice husky with sleep. 

A small smile plays on his lips as he pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you. "I could stay like this forever," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. You looked at him with a fluttering heart and stars in your eyes, "we have forever," you whisper back, your voice barely audible. 

Jungkook's eyes soften, and he pulls you even closer, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. "As long as it's with you," he murmurs, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

You decide to turn off the lamp, reaching for the switch with a drowsy sigh. Just as your fingers brush the cool metal, Jungkook stirs. His grip tightens around you, his voice a husky murmur against your ear.

"Don't," he pleads, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Let's stay like this a little while longer."

A sleepy smile spreads across your face. "But it's getting late," you whisper, your voice thick with contentment.

He nuzzles closer, his warm breath tickling your neck. "Not for us," he murmurs. "you said we'll stay like this forever," he pouted

With a contented sigh, you let your hand fall back onto his chest. The soft glow of the lamp bathes the room in a warm, inviting light.

In all honestly, the light bothered you, but there isn't anything that would get you out of lover's arms. So, as an attempt to block the light, you buried your head in his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you towards sleep, a sound you'd like to hear forever.

[writingoddess1125]

Funny One Shot- Buggy Edition

Your Seat Awaits

Buggy x Femreader

Support me on Ko-Fi

N$FW Themes

You stare at your husband a cross between wanting to cry at how stupid this was and maybe throwing him in the ocean as a divorce was the best course of action.

"Buggy... My love what the hell is this-"

You asked gesturing to him, he was laid on the bed his hair down and makeup off, completely shirtless and with a seated pillow ring around his blue hair like a headband.

"Welll I have the evening and you have the evening- Sooo We got the evening to-"

"Yes I'm aware but I'm more confused with the pillow ring- that's for sitti.. you want me to sit on your face don't you-" You deadpanned, the puzzle clicking in your head and see Buggy grin.

"Come on (Y/N)! It will be fun!" You rub your temples, curious to your past self why you said yes at times.

"Well I guess if I'm ge-"

"No no no! I don't want that hovering bull shit!" He shouted quickly, pointing at you with false anger.

"What if I suffocate you!?" You protest in shock, wondering why this man was so keen on a potential death sentence!

"It's a honorable death! Besides it won't be the first time I've almost drowned! This time I'm just bound to like it!" You threw a pillow at him at hearing this. Red in the face as he smiled brightly.

"This is absolutely ridiculous! I-I don't want to hurt you!"

"You won't! I won't die by puss! And if I do I will be praised as a hero among pirates!" He expressed, you this time hitting him in the face with a pillow which made him laugh loudly and hold your arm.

"Don't say that! I'd never want anyone to know you died that way" He shakes his head at this, take disappointed tsk leaving him as if you were naive.

"You better tell people cause they should know why I died with a smile on my face!" You places your free hand on your hip and raised a brow at his words, Rolling your eyes as well.

"This is so dumb- I can't actually do this seriously-"

"Hey! You agreed that if we did that floofy resort I could get a favor in return!" He brought up defensively. He was using his free pass?- a few months ago you begged to go to this romantic couples spa resort and he agreed. However you never did admit that you didn't enjoy it as much as you thought you would since it was a hot pink Valentines day themed corn fest- But Buggy did it all without complaints.

"Fine Fine! I did agree"

Buggy laid back down excitedly, Grinning from ear to ear, You blushed deeply and slid off your pants and underwear tossing them to the side. His hands detaching from him and going to your hips, carefully lifting you to be seated on his chest. You couldn't help but blush at this as you sat there.

"My face is clean of makeup, so your throne is ready my Love~"

You stared at Buggy as you sat on his chest, Sighing heavily at him as you grabbed the headboard of the bed and moved forward to his destined spot.

"I hope you suffocate-"

Buggy laughed loudly at this as he pumped his fist in joy and victory.

"As do I!! Hahahah-Mmph!~"

[sofiaruelle]

Aaa tumblr deleted my ask before I was done smh, anyway I was wondering who you think would do better at the ifuudoudou dance/shuffle, ass gang / she trio ?(stardew) i think they’d both give up in the middle from the quick-exhaustion, or how funny it’d probably be to see those sillies knocking each other over.

Aww man the ASS gang would DEMOLISH the SHE trio doing the ifuudoudou shuffle. Something something about being old and their old man knees (Abigail’s words). And in this essay I will explicate my take on the dance battle:

I can imagine the ASS gang would have to teach them how the dance moves first. The SHE trio practices for a bit. Harvey and Shane would definitely have a little with coordination (especially with the double bounce) but they get it down and are actually some what in sync as a group. Since Elliot was able to pick up on the dance moves quicker, he somewhat moves a little faster than the other two. Harvey tends to get flustered in the middle and would flail his arms trying to catch up to Elliot’s tempo thinking he messed up somewhere. Poor Shane would strugggglllleeeee with cardio. He blames the fact that he’s hungover to save face (he’s not, he’s been sober for a while, Elliot and Harvey pick up on this and just teases him)

Meanwhile the ASS gang is much more familiar with the song and dance. (my lil HC: Sebastian is a big fan of vocaloid; though he has yet to tell the rest of the gang what the song is about). For a time it had been a trend amongst them to dance the shuffle around town and filming themselves doing shennanigans. coughtiktokcough Despite being quite familiar with it, Sam struggles to move in the same direction as the others and bouncing on one place. He does quickly recover though!!!! Not his fault Abigail tends to forget to do the double bounce though hahahah. Sebastian has *perfected* the dance catch him practicing in between doing freelance programming.

I have this Idea™️ during the shuffle battle, Elliot realizes the song lyrics is quite scandalous and catches Sebastians eyes and they have a some kind of telepathic conversation which causes Sebastian to get flustered and embarassed at the implication of the lyrics. Elliot just laughs in amusement and nearly falters. Abigail in the middle of egging on the SHE trio notices this and calls out Elliot for the sabotage! Shane, tired of her teasing, tells his buddies to avenge him before collapsing on his ass, completely out of breath. Harvey to check on him but Shane waves him off. Also Sam nearly knocks everyone out trying to match up with the direction his hands should be facing, almost tripping on Shane. 😂 😂 😂

[aziulpre]

Hi Nakamura!

Do you have time to answer something of mine and advise me about it? You see, I love your art, your merchandise, and everything else.

How was your process of adapting to the Omniverse style? Was it difficult?

And well, I wanted some advice about it because I've always liked Ben and I'm curious about your process, and that's it.

Sure, well... about Cartoon style, as I've mentioned since my beginnings, my design has always been similar to Omniverse, so it was not difficult for me.

Especially since I've always been a fan of Derrick J. Wyatt (Unfortunately I knew him half year before his death) and cartoon stylized style from Cartoon Network (like DC animated series).

Also, I am a character designer so I handle different styles...

which makes it easier to imitate (but keeping my style, so that it's recognizable that it's mine).

Something funny about UAF style... many people hate it, but when it comes to drawing it, it's actually very similar to Omniverse 🤣 the only distinction would be the "proportions" of the body. Nobody believes me Hahahah

The only advice I can say: if you want to improve, draw every day. About learning, you have to find the best way that fits you. When I was a kiddo, what worked a lot for me was looking at art from series and trying to imitate it (in fact, famous painters often imitate real landscapes). Over time, or just in a drawing, start adding your own details and you'll find your style.

I say "imitate" instead of copy, because "copy" means you just reflect what you see on paper/screen: There is no difference and that is not creative. It may work for learning or even animation, but it isn't recommended if you want to be "independent" (I don't know what the correct word is) but It's a way that many or few people can know that it belongs to you. The good example is that people who know my art recognize my comics, but when someone just looks at a drawing out of the corner of their eye they think it's a scene from Ben 10 series.

If you already know how to draw, it's good to see many references. In my case, I often look at lighting references and muscles or a thin body to be able to correctly capture the color and proportions (especially the realistic muscles, because it's a little difficult for me... that works for me in Anime style or detailed drawings).

[softodettes]

in honor of being one week out from the Onyx Storm release, here is my long list of predictions, ranging from somewhat probable to very unlikely, in no particular order.

below the cut are a handful of spoilers for the leaks that have made the rounds. consider yourself warned!!

disclaimer: these are all for FUN. a lot of these are just my batshit insane theories that I think are funny.

starting with an obvious one: Xaden runs away at some point. I’m guessing the halfway point of the book or at the end.

Violet’s hair is a symptom of Lilith being partially drained by a venin while pregnant (I don’t think she’s actually venin, but I think that would be an interesting plot twist)

I already yapped to @maethologies about this one, but the Isle Kingdoms aren’t included on the map because it’s a representation of propaganda and how Navarre controlled information dissemination so thoroughly, thus meaning Violet wouldn’t know what a map of them would look like, which is why we as the readers don’t have access to that map (this one seems unlikely but I like it!)

OS is going to cover the second half of Violet’s second year in the Riders Quadrant, and the fourth and fifth books will each cover half of her third year.

and speaking of the sequels, i’d be willing to bet that one of them will have the word “silver” in the title (i’ll come back to this when the next title is announced and see if i’m right LOL)

Xaden’s mom is in the Isle Kingdoms drinking mai tais on a beach.

@skyfallscotland said there’s a theory that Xaden’s mom is the venin who had the silver hair and I also like that theory… even if it has some oedipal implications for his obsession with Vi’s hair 🥴

Violet’s second signet is precognition or prophetic visions. I don’t like the idea of truth-saying, and I don’t really like her being an inntinnsic either because I feel like it’s a lazy way to balance out Xaden’s second signet (even though that’s what’s probably going to end up happening). I have no text-based justifications for those signets, they’re just what I would prefer to Violet being an inntinnsic 😇 The bookworm in me thinks photographic memory would be fun, but that’s definitely not her signet.

Violet reveals that she and Xaden got married at the end of OS and the last line is something like “I’m going to find my husband” and has major end of ACOMAF vibes. again, very unlikely

Dain redemption arc continues. He and Sloane have a heart to heart off page and get into a relationship and we find out when they tell Violet (you thought this list wouldn’t be extremely self indulgent? hahahah)

Xaden runs away after he drains Violet during sex (likely) OR my personal insane theory is he drains and kills someone they’re all close to (ie: Rhi) and runs away after that.

Bodhi is going to have to pretend to be Xaden if they lock him up in the Rybestad chest for his own good. Bodhi then gets assassinated and Xaden goes full evil.

Sawyer isn’t going to die after losing his leg in IF, but I think Rhi and Ridoc are fair game. OR Sawyer losing his leg is a precursor to him dying… who knows.

The seventh breed of dragons is chilling in the Isle Kingdoms, and OS is a set up for the other road trip they’ll need to take in the fourth book.

Liam comes back to life and Violiaden lives happily ever after (let me have my fun)

Naolin is venin and alive or he’s actually dead and pulled from the earth before he died. But he was Tyrrish, hence the rune on Brennan’s hand. The rune is probably some old and dangerous magic and it wasn’t taught in the runes class, which is why Violet doesn’t ever recognize it.

Papa Sorrengail was poisoned. I think this idea originally comes from the Remi-verse (correct me if I’m wrong!). He and Lilith knew and let it happen because their children were threatened by the big bads in the government. Lilith hid his feathertail research after he died. Maybe the feathertails are the key to everything somehow and he knew?

Violet has a breakdown reading her mom’s journal. We get insight into Lilith’s personal beliefs regarding the venin.

Mira distances herself from the other Sorrengail siblings following Lilith’s death. She and Brennan get into an argument about it and their respective childhood traumas.

Mira dies Lilith-style by sacrificing herself for Violet. Violet feels copious amounts of guilt and crashes out, causing an insane lightning storm that kills whoever she was fighting.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂

description: In which Olga Carmona's girlfriend bleeds red and white for Athletico, while Olga bleeds white and blue for Real. Both Madrid based, two lovers, two positions, two talents, two teams and one game.

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olga carmona x female reader

disclaimer: I am in no way saying Olga is gay or bi with this, remember it is all just fiction!

warnings: bad google translations as usual! a few rough words, angst and fluff!

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y/n just posted on their story

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olgacarmona7 just posted on her story

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y/n just posted

liked by luciaamoraal, lola_gallardo1 and 291, 299 others

tagged olgacarmona7

y/n tryna seduce the competition early??

view 9382 comments

username1: HAHAHAH 😭

username2: They are so cute ! THE RINGS 😭💙💙

username3: I am so glad they have each other !!!!

username4: I think good for them that they are able to separate pitch rivalries from home life.

^

username5: In a recent interview Olga was asked about it, and said that y/n was for the rest of her life, football wasn't and she wasn't going to risk the best thing that has ever happened to her because of her job!

^

username4: OMG that is so cute! 🥺

^

username6: relationship like this now!! 💳💳

olgacarmona7: Maybeeeee... is it working? ☺️

^

y/n: yes 🫶

^

lola_gallardo1: um??? 🤨🤨

^

y/n got no shame she's hot as shit 👍👍

^

olgacarmona7: te amo baby <3

^

y/n: te amo!

see more comments...

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y/n just posted on their story

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In all honesty the game wasn't going too bad, they had defended well, y/n seemed to be having the game of her life having made four fantastic saves and the rest easy ones.

They were ten minutes from half time, and still at 0-0 if they could make it to half time with a draw, they could regroup and try again to sneak the win after half time.

Then Sonia made the tackle, Olga going down in the box and the referee's whistle echoed as she pointed at the spot. Sonia almost cried as the red card was shown at her.

y/n began talking to the ref, calmly, not denying the penalty but trying to revoke the red card, but it didn't work, she was told to set herself in goal.

y/n shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in and out as everyone got into place. Opening them, y/n was faced with her love, Olga's face was masked, cold as she prepared.

The whistle blew, one, two, three steps, shot. y/n darted to the side, her body pushing as she jumped, the powerful shot blocked by her hand which only just pushed it past the post on away for a corner.

The stadium erupted as the Real players gaped in shock, a save like that, well, a few of them even clapped in shock. y/n was piled on by her team, the group dragging her to her feet as they shouted in shock.

y/n let out a breath, a groan of relief as they prepared for the corner. The kick was cleared easily and soon enough they were walking into the tunnel, still at 0-0.

Olga's hand brushed her lover's, the pinkie's linking momentarily as they walked away from each other and back to their locker rooms.

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twitter/X

username1: HOLY SHIT 😱😱😱

username2: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SAVE? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? 😰😰😰

username3: y/n once again showing why she is Spain's no.1 goal keeper 🫠🫠

username4: I don't get that save??? How did she move so quick? How did she arch??

username5: LMAO the way some Real players clapped y/n's save was so funny, everyone was so impressed! 😂

username6: did anyone see Olga move to y/n as the halftime whistle blew?? CUTEEE 🥺

see more comments...

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The game was five minutes from time, and somehow the ten left on the pitch had been able to scrap a 1-1 draw currently, however, Olga's free kick on the edge of the box was yet to be taken.

The whistle blew and y/n watched the ball, her feet pushing as she jumped and pushed it over the goal, conceding a corner but once again making a fantastic save.

y/n was clapped on the back by her team as the corner was set and taken. y/n jumped gripping the ball as she fell to the ground, protecting it.

The crowd cheered again and y/n stood up, bouncing the ball twice before throwing it out, the whistle blowing seconds after. y/n fell to her knees in relief, the second half had been a lot of work for her.

With being a woman down, the Real team had not stopped or slowed, bringing wave after wave of attack which y/n was only just able to stop with her defenders.

"¡Bebé!" A voice called, Olga helping her girlfriend to her feet as she wrapped her arms around her.

y/n smiled into her girlfriend's hair, the smaller woman muttering praises as she pulled away and pouted her lips, wanting a kiss. y/n chuckled and ducked her her head, pecking Olga a few times.

The crowd cheered for their favourite couple who smiled as they pulled away, y/n wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders and Olga around her waist as they walked back to their teams.

"Esas salvadas fueron impresionantes, mi amor, hoy fuiste imparable." Olga tells her lover.

those saves were stunning my love, you were unstoppable today.

"Y aún así pudiste anotarme, siempre mi debilidad." y/n hummed, kissing her girlfriend's head.

and yet you were still able to score against me, always my weakness.

Olga smiled and pecked her girlfriend's lips once more, sighing happily as they moved to their separate teams, y/n being clapped on the back and handed the match ball.

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olgacarmona7 just posted

liked by alexiaputellas, onabatlle and 392, 277 others

tagged y/n

olgacarmona7 Ella es una guardiana segura 🩷

She's a keeper for sure

view 11, 811 comments

username1: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 😭😭

username2: They were so cute after the game! It is so clear how much they love each other!! 🥺🥺

username3: Man she was insane today, some of those saves!!!!

alexiaputellas: ¡El número uno de España! 😊😊

spain's number one

^

y/n: capi! 😚

onabatlle: ¿No entiendo cómo se movía así? 🤨🤨

I don't get how she moved like that???

^

olgacarmona7: Creo que es una bruja honestamente. 😉

i think she's a witch, honestly.

^

username4: ahahahah

username5: She was fantastic omg! 😩

^

username6: SHE was soooo gooood and I am glad she is getting the recognition she deserves!!

^

username7: SAMEEEE 🥺🥺

see more comments...

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y/n just posted on their close friends story

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END

still not overly happy with this one i won’t lie but i CANNOT continue re-writing this lmaoooo

-

Queenie xo

[daflangstlairde-art]

"she ain't worth a goddamn in anyone else's hands" 5,334 words

Part 2 of ocean depths

Work Summary:

Nightmare was all, all Killer had. He defined Killer’s entire world. He was the most important thing to Killer. But, just as well, at the end of the day — even if in a very different way — Killer was all Nightmare had. — Being left in the Antivoid is just as much of a torture as you’d imagine. Real torture.

Credits, warnings and additional info on ao3.

—

Killer wasn't sad when first Horror and then Dust ditched their operation.

It didn't happen fast, nor at the same time, but it happened. It wasn't a shock. And he wasn't sad. He wasn't. He wasn't. He couldn't be. 

As he stalked the halls of the dark castle, he felt nothing. 

It was emptier than ever. 

There was no longer Horror to cook warm soup and to splinter wood with a cleaver. He was introduced to some universe of farmboys. He left. He cared for his own universe, which remained alive. 

There was no longer Dust to shadow him because company was better than the emptiness. He was harder for those Stars to convince, but apparently, Underfell admired violence and strength. Apparently, he was being “rehabilitated”. 

And, well! We all know how Nightmare was. He had always been above them. Killer could linger in his company only if allowed. 

There was... nobody. 

Nobody. 

Just massive, spanning walls of dark, cold stone. The rare slits of light only enough to illuminate the particles of dust in the air, really. It was all abandoned. Silent and dead. Empty. 

Desolate. 

Familiar. 

...Haha. Hahahah. 

How funny. 

Killer kept ending up in dead ends. 

—

He sat at the kitchen table. 

He laid down on his bed. 

He wandered the halls.

Emptiness of emptiness of emptiness.

Bored. 

Killer wasn't sad. Killer couldn't be sad. Sadness was... it was a sincere emotion. 

Killer was drowning in the dark, dark depths. 

Killer felt emptier than ever.

It's like he wasn't even real. 

—

“If you don't get your act straight, you’ll keep messing everything up.” Nightmare growled, tentacles holding Killer aloft and pinned to the wall by his throat. 

Missions were boring. It was the same, all the same. Hurting and ruining and sometimes killing. All alone. All repetitive. 

But Killer was Nightmare’s one loyal tool left. The only one. 

Of course the Stars tried to break him too. Of course they offered many things that... probably sounded appealing to others. Like forgiveness, or help, or freedom. 

Killer didn't care about those. Killer didn't care about the Stars. He didn't even know what their deal was! He had never particularly cared, and only really knew the most vague of details. Because none of it mattered to him. 

Nightmare was the only thing that mattered. He was all Killer had. All. 

...And Killer was all Nightmare had left. 

Killer chuckled low, even as the restriction around his throat tightened painfully. 

“Anything for you baby,” he teased, because it drove Nightmare up the wall with annoyance. It earned Killer the prize of pain, just like he wanted it to. He was discovering being provocative and crude made people react hilariously. 

Missions were a fog. He lacked drive, he lacked interest, he lacked attention. On missions, heck, in everyday life, Killer was in a fugue state. 

But he didn't need a brain! He just had to do as told.

Nightmare says kill, you kill. 

—

“Why are you still fighting for him?!” Blue yelled, trying to keep up in parrying each of Killer’s violent slashes. “He doesn't care about you! He– he’s awful to you! I don't understand you!” 

Killer just started laughing in his face. 

Slash, stab, attack and attack and attack. Again, and again, and again and again, repeat upon repeat. 

All the same. All meaningless. All horrible. 

—

“I heard them talking about some ‘Cross’ guy,” Killer mentioned, twirling a knife, its point against his fingertip. 

Nightmare paused in his irritated pacing, and for a moment Killer was sure he would get another “Shut the hell up while I’m thinking” for his generous efforts to help his boss. 

Instead,

“...Cross, huh?” Nightmare hummed, considering. 

—

They beat the Stars to it and now, once again, after weeks and weeks of emptiness, there was finally someone else in the castle. 

And Cross was even fun to poke fun at! 

“What’s got you so angsty?” Killer teased, tailing the guy into the kitchen. 

“Leave me alone,” Cross dismissed him all huffy. He had this stoic attitude going on. Not very fun, except when Killer got it to crack. He was still exploring which buttons gave him the best reactions — honestly, he didn't know much about this Cross guy, and didn't care particularly to learn about his tragic backstory or whatever. 

“I don't think I will,” Killer hummed, as Cross started searching through the cabinets. 

“Is this place just empty?” Cross muttered to himself. 

“Like my soul,” Killer joked. Ah, a classic. 

Cross gave him a flat look and continued searching. “Where is all the food?” 

“Oh the guy who did that left,” Killer replied. 

“Did... food?” Cross turned around to look at him. 

“Yeah, that was his thing,”

“And you... what, don't?” 

Killer shrugged. “Nope, I'm not into it,” he chuckled, and Cross groaned. 

“Why are you like this?” he demanded, exasperated. “Aren't you, I don't know, uh, in a–” and then he seemed to reconsider his words. Frowning. “...What is the deal with you and Nightmare?”

Killer started laughing so hard he teared up.

Cross disregarded him.

—

Knock-knock-knock at the door. Cheerful as ever. Waiting for the multiple locks on the inside to be unlocked, even when Killer could've just used a shortcut right in. That's to signify he’s coming with no violent intent, or whatever. Well. Minor violent intent maybe, haha.

The door opened, and immediately Red grimaced. 

“H–!” 

“DUST!” Red yelled to the inside of the house. “NIGHTMARE’S BITCH IS AT THE DOOR!” 

“What?” called muffled from inside. 

“ONE OF Y’ FUCKIN’ MANIAC FRIENDS!” 

Killer laughed. Maybe someone else would've been hurt. He wasn't. Both of those statements were delightfully true.

—

There was one little problem. A little thorn in Killer’s side. Not enough to change his modus operandi — again, emotionless and uncaring — but enough to be noticeable. Enough to be annoying. 

“Cross, you're in charge of this mission,” Nightmare stated. 

“Yes sir.” 

That thorn was called Cross and Killer might just hate him. 

Before Killer could stop gaping and reply, Nightmare was already gone, leaving them in some random forest (not unusual, not important). 

“Let's go.” Cross turned to walk in some direction for some reason. 

“What– do you know where we are??” Killer sputtered, waving his knife. 

“No.” Cross didn't even look at him, like he was better or something. 

That wouldn't do. 

Killer grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. 

“Then why are you ‘in charge’?” he asked, so very friendly.

“Because I don't fuck off to do whatever I want every time?” Cross raised a brow ridge. Ohohoo, some spunk in him today! “Because I'm an actually good henchman and don't talk back constantly?” 

Oh the nerve of this guy. Heh. Heheheh! Hilarious! 

In fact, Killer was chuckling. He was laughing. He was hysterical. 

“You?” he gasped. “Whatever gets you off, puppet boy!”

Because there were a few easy answers to Cross’ question from awhile ago. 

What was their relationship? Easy. 

Killer was Nightmare’s. His yes-man, his victim, his tool, his loyal toy, his lackey, the only one who stayed. His bitch, to put it oh-so-elegantly. Everybody knew that. 

—

“What have you done with Cross?!” Dream demanded, parrying Killer’s attacks beat for beat. That guy was not to be underestimated, which Killer was admittedly guilty of! What could he say? These positive, soft types never went for the kill — how can you be truly afraid of them? 

It's not like he felt much fear, anyway. That was reserved for a special someone. 

“Horrible things!” Killer exclaimed, laughing. “He's suffering as we speak!” 

“What?!” Dream exclaimed, horrified.

(Cross was probably just sleeping. There wasn't much else to do when you're stuck at the castle and need to pass the time.) 

“Terrible!” Killer nodded, dodging to the side and using the movement to try shanking Dream. It was evaded. 

“Where is he?!” 

“Where do you think?” Killer teased. “Same as always! He's not some treasure to be hidden,” 

“Oh,” Dream was caught off guard by that. Probably wasn't expecting it. That meant he also wasn't expecting the knife Killer stabbed into his shoulder, haha. 

—

Killer’s gotta give it to the Stars. Having experience with Horror and Dust, they retrieved Cross pretty efficiently this time. 

—

Killer’s skull slammed into the wall behind him so hard the pain reverberated through it and echoed throughout his body. He groaned, a gutteral drawn out sound. The tentacle that’d grabbed him by the throat now also lifted him off his feet by it, in that uncomfortable way where Killer’s body dangled and felt like it’s about to drop away from his head. 

“HOW DID THEY KNOW HE WAS HERE?” Nightmare demanded, shoving rage and disgust and fear into Killer’s soul like it's nothing, like it doesn't drown him. 

“How am– I supposed– to know?” Killer choked out, grinning, hands clutching onto the tentacle in a poor attempt to hold himself up a little, to loosen the pressure. He was barely able to think through the onslaught of horror and misery. It was like a diseased, starving, feral animal clawing at his body. Unrelenting with you're horrible disgusting scum you're going to die die die you are going to SUFFER there is no escape you– 

“You useless tool!” Nightmare pulled him away from the hard stone wall, only to slam him against it, and again and again and again until Killer was crying out with the pain. Everything was ringing with the building concussion. It was a little difficult to hear whatever Nightmare was saying through it, pardon Killer’s manners, but it sounded something like “This is your fault, isn't it?!” 

In case it wasn't clear, Nightmare was really pissed. This whole weakening of his forces seemed to be really getting to him. How sad. 

Killer blinked against the shapes swimming in his vision. He could feel that hateful substance trickling, leaking even, from his eyes down his face. Warm. No, it was cold. He could never quite decide. The probably-blood oozing down the back of his skull was certifiably warm, however. 

“That’s very– presumptuous of you–” he struggled out, breathing heavily, breathing through the pain and the merciless barrage of rancid emotions. Grin widening. “I can see you’re– angry, baby– are you hhngh on your period?” 

Nightmare was livid. Killer started laughing, even as there were great efforts being put to choking him out. 

“Shut. Up.” Nightmare said, cold and reverberating off the walls until it surrounds you. He lowered Killer down slowly, but didn't let go of him — it was just so Killer wasn't held aloft anymore, but rather, Nightmare, with all his engulfing darkness, loomed over him. “Need I remind you betrayal. Isn't. Tolerated?” 

Killer couldn't help but snort and cackle at that, past the rancid, cloying smell of death from Nightmare’s general aura.

“Betrayal?” he exclaimed. “Me? Please. You and I both know I'm all you really have.” 

There was the kicker. 

Nightmare was all, all Killer had. He defined Killer’s entire world. He was the most important thing to Killer. 

But, just as well, at the end of the day — even if in a very different way — Killer was all Nightmare had. 

He was the only one truly allied with Nightmare. Not through force or violence or threats, none of that — because he wanted to be. Because Killer was an empty husk of a being and adored the force and the violence and the threats and the fear. A living wound that only exists when it's bleeding. 

Nightmare knew that Killer knew that. But Killer knew that Nightmare knew it too. They both knew where they stood. They both knew Nightmare could leverage whatever suffering he wanted against Killer and that Killer would only enjoy it the worse it is. Killer only did as told when he enjoyed it, because he wanted to. He misbehaved for the very same reason. 

Killer was so ruined through his own fault. There was nowhere further Nightmare could ruin him. Nightmare couldn't hurt him because Killer hurt himself, and Nightmare was just the most intense, most effective, most convenient way to do it. 

That's why Nightmare’s glare narrowed. That's why the tentacle holding Killer’s neck loosened, letting him exhale and inhale deeply. 

“You're not as clever as you think you are, loudmouth.” Nightmare spoke slowly. Promising danger. He always carried out his promises. He was cute like that. 

...Except. 

Except it wasn't what Killer expected. It wasn't sickening, merciless violence. It wasn't choking suffering. It wasn't burning agony. It wasn't animalistic fear. 

It was... white. 

Just white. 

Endless, shapeless white. 

All it took was a moment for Killer to be brought there, and a second one for Nightmare to be gone, and then it was just Killer and the endless white abyss. 

He exhaled, standing amidst it all. It was so much larger than anything that could be conceived, and yet. And yet it was empty. 

Hah. Hahahah. 

Like his soul. 

...It was always... a strange experience. The way the emotion would rise, like a tidal wave. A split second explosion of anger-hate-fear-despair at the devouring vastness, at the fact that he was just ditched there. When Nightmare knew he despised the emptiness. Or, rather, precisely because he knew how much Killer hated it. 

And just as quickly it would be gone. Like a sudden electrical surge that blew out the fuse. And he was numb as ever. All the feelings he may have felt about this just the lingering buzz in the non-air. Only serving to make him even more aware of the nothing that remained, that lingered. 

Killer couldn’t parse whether being stranded in the Antivoid was a worse or better hell than the Void. He supposed it didn’t particularly matter. 

He sat down on the concept of a “ground”. 

He didn’t even have a shadow. It was all empty. It was all nothing. 

He didn’t have the energy to laugh. He laid down, staring up at the whiteness (as opposed to the whiteness to the side, or even: the whiteness down below). 

—

Being left in the Antivoid is just as much of a torture as you’d imagine. Real torture. 

It’s... familiar. In the worst of ways, You hate “familiar”. You hate the staleness, the sameness, the stillness. It’s all the same, for hours upon hours upon hours. 

Haha. Funny how you keep ending up in dead ends. 

It’s more barren than your own universe. It’s more repetitive and deprived than hundreds of repetitions of the same goddamn day remembered with crystal clarity. It’s not warm and it’s not cold. It’s not nice, and it’s not even painful.

If the Antivoid was painful, that would’ve been a mercy to you.

The emptiness devours you whole. It rips you up piece by piece. Slow and deliberate, unbothered by the passage of time, which makes sense, because it’s not like time changes anything at all around here. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. It couldn't have been that long, but it already feels like weeks. The void spaces have that effect on people. It’s by definition. Here, eternity is stored in every second. 

You sleep, mostly, to pass the time. 

When you’re awake, you self-destruct. Your mind is starved and desperate, looking for something something something to grasp but there is nothing. It’s just you. You engrave your own bones with sharp points. You claw at your being. You seek and seek and seek and you find nothing but yourself, until your self is indistinguishable from the nothing as well. 

You feel like screaming just to hear something, but nothingness has no voice.

—

You wake up. Again. All the same every time. Repetitions for eternity. You despise abstract concepts, except you don’t, because emptiness doesn’t contain emotions. 

...Except. 

“Good thing it’s not Error who found you first!” Ink jokes, standing over you all cheery. He’s... he’s colorful.

It takes you several moments to remember that, conceptually, you have a body, and you leap to your feet. 

“Woah there buddy!” exclamation mark in his eye, Ink stumbles back so you don’t ram your head into his accidentally, but that triggers some desperation in you and you grab him by the scarf and yank him back. 

The feeling of something material in your hand, something that isn’t you, is like a shock. Except you still feel nothing. You just stare at the bunched up fabric. 

Ink remains in place, a little awkward. In a position showing he’s unsure what you’re up to, whether to be prepared for an attack. You consider attacking. You feel nothing about the concept.

“Heeeeyyyy,” Ink draws out, regaining his nonchalant cheer with a blink. “Yyyoou okay there...?” 

How are you supposed to answer that? The question strikes you as absurd. Nonsensical. You laugh even though you feel no amusement. That’s normal for you. 

“...Right,” Ink clears his throat. “Sssooo whatcha up to? Where’s Nightmare?” he asks, mostly curious. Ink has always struck you as a weirdo freak, something off about his reactions, but you’ve never thought about it too deeply. 

You shrug. You’re still holding his scarf. You’re unsure why. You don’t particularly care and he doesn’t seem to mind it either, so. No reason to stop. 

(He’s real he’s tangible he’s something different he’s something something something–)

“Well I’m just passing by, I’ll be out in a–” 

“If you so much as think about leaving I’ll stab you through the spine.” you immediately counter, calmly threatening. 

“Awww if you wanted company you could’ve just said so!” Ink takes it in stride, and again, off reactions. It’s the most interesting thing that has happened in what feels like eternity so you latch onto it. 

“You’re weird.” you point out. 

Ink laughs. “Yeah, I get that a lot! Part of having a creative nature,” he strikes a pose all cheeky, eye light in the shape of a sparkle. You’re still holding him by the scarf. “Soooo what have you been up to??” he asks, rocking back and forth on his feet all silly. 

You gesture around with a flat expression. “Nothing,” 

Ink snorts. “How long have you been here?” he prods you (literally, with a finger, which you allow because he’s physical and here and real).

You shrugs. “Not like I can keep track,” you huff. 

“Yeesh. You gotta be careful with that one, spend too long and the glitching disease will get to you,” Ink says like he’s joking, except that is literally a fact. People go insane and corrupted in the void spaces. 

You consider demanding from Ink to get you out of here. 

...You remember you have nowhere to go. 

You remember how livid Nightmare was. And how much more powerful he is than you. And how he owns your soul. And how if he wants you to be here, here you will be, so there’s not really a point to it. Everything always ends up like this for you, huh? Everything always the same, and always horrible, until none of it matters. That’s how your existence has always been, and how it always will be. 

“Need me to get you somewhere?” Ink offers, lifting his brush, like he was on a similar train of thought but departed a few stations earlier.

“...I’ve stabbed you several times,” you point out like an echo of amusement, because Ink is best described as quirky. And again, considering circumstances, it’s currently the most interesting thing in your life. What a tragedy. 

“Yeah...?” Ink prompts with a question mark in his eye, like he isn't seeing how that relates to his question at all. 

You tilt your head. 

“Why do you want to help me?” you ask, because the closest thing to emotion you have right now is curiosity-fascination. Though that doesn't say much, considering it just as distant as everything else. “We're enemies, or something,”

“Oh!” Ink exclaims. “Oh I don't really care,” he shrugs. “I mean, I guess that's the narrative, yeah! But it's not like I hate you personally or something,” he chuckles. 

Weirdo freak. 

You've never cared to learn anything about the Stars. You realize you barely even know their tragic backstories. You still don't particularly care, but Ink is a natural yapper, so maybe you can use him to fill the silence.

(Until he leaves, of course. Until you are left alone. You are always left alone.)

“You don't find my actions abhorrent? Not how I've killed hundreds? Not how I enjoy torturing others?” you seek for the buttons to press, grinning. You recall that yeah, Ink is a lot more difficult to get a rise out of compared to the other two, who are so openly emotional. 

“I mean,” Ink scratches his skill. “On one hand, a good story needs villains. On the other hand, the best narratives are about how good triumphs in the end, and so you need someone to be that component as well. In that sense, I am against it!” he concludes. “Although works that explore dark endings are also fascinating and have their own merit,” he considers. “Like tragedies, or darkgrim stories. They–” he starts rambling, distracted by the topic. 

It's interesting for maybe a second. It quickly stops being so. You can't bring yourself to care about whatever he's talking about, or to want to.

You consider attacking him, again. But then he might leave, depending on whether he has something else to do instead or not. 

“Are the other two coming around?” you interrupt, though Ink doesn't seem offended that you completely ignored his spiel. 

“Hm? Uh, I don't think so, why?” he asks in turn. Damn, that means they have no business around here. Though, after a brief pause, Ink’s eyes widen and he exclaims a “Wait!” 

He tries to pull away but you hold onto the fabric of his scarf tighter, summoning a knife in a kind reminder of your threat. Ink lifts his palms placatingly, chuckling. 

“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere!” he assures. “I’ll just call them over too and then we can all... talk!” 

Oh. 

That meant he was going to seize the opportunity to try and “reason” with you like they did with Horror and Dust. Again. Like you didn't laugh in their faces every previous time. Respect for the persistence? 

“You do realize that won't work, right?” you generously point it out to Ink. 

He blinks.

“I’m not betraying Nightmare,” you snort. 

Ink tilts his head. “Why?”

He asks it so simply. No “You know he doesn't love you, right?”, no “But he's awful to you!”, none of that. Maybe that's why you answer him. 

“Because,” you say, almost amused, shrugging. You're unsure how to finish that. You're unsure how to explain, so you just say the truth — “I don't care about anything else,” 

Ink is looking at you curiously now, his previous idea of calling for backup seemingly forgotten, which is typical for him. 

He sits on the ground. He pats the ground in an invite. You sit down too, mostly because you're still holding his scarf. 

“Nothing? Really?” Ink asks, pulling his leg closer to rest his chin on his knee. 

“Nope!” 

“You don't have a family?” 

You burst out laughing. You pretend to wipe a tear, even.

“What? Do you know nothing?” you exclaim, cackling. 

Ink is just staring at you with question marks. 

“Know what?” he asks. What an idiot. You'd roll your eyes if you had any. At best, you manage to mimick the action. 

“I killed them all,” you say easily. “Many, many times,” 

“...Oh. Right.” Ink seems to remember. “But why??” 

Huh. Apparently Killer wasn't the only one who couldn't give a flying fuck to learn anything about his supposed enemies. 

Killer sighs dreamily, “To listen to their sweet sweet cries of pain,”

Ink grimaces. “Oh. Really??? You come from a twist on the original timeline though, right?” he asks, frowning in confusion. “The classic version of Sans is not like that,” 

“Clearly I'm not the classic version of Sans,” Killer pointed out flatly, and to emphasize the point, he gestured to his soul. You know. The one that is nothing like a monster’s or a human’s. 

“Oooohhhhh,” Ink nodded along, hand reaching forward– Killer flinched. Body immediately strung tight, ready for the barrage of suffering that always followed when his soul was grasped and squeezed and– 

But he was so baffled by the action, he let it happen. 

Ink pulled his hand back, however, staring at his face. 

Killer snorted, and moved his hand to offer his soul, that wretched thing. It's not like he cared if anyone did anything to it. Or hurt it. 

(His soul. His being. His self. The essence and shape of his existence condensed into one. The most vulnerable part of you. The most you part of you.)

“Go on,” you shrug. “Not like I care,” 

Ink hesitantly reaches out a hand to prod the cursed thing. It feels just as uncomfortable and bad as you'd imagine, to have your soul poked. He pulls his hand back. 

“...Well,” Ink starts, “at least you have one?” he offers, chuckling. “Better than nothing!” 

You tilt your head. That's a strange way to say that.

“What, you don't?” 

“Nope!” Ink says as easily as you would.

It's your turn to blink and stare. At his neutrally cheerful grin.

And suddenly... it does make sense. The sense of emptiness behind half his expressions. The lack of care where others would have at least some. The odd view of the world. His flat affect, even if it was a positive one.

...Huh. 

Ink was telling the truth. He was soulless. 

You raise a hand to where yours returned to the middle of your chest. Always sitting in front of it. Always bare. Detached from the rest of you. 

“...How?” 

“Just never had one,” Ink shrugs.

You can only think of one other soulless creature — that yellow flower. 

But... it doesn't make sense. The wretched flower reached the point of destroying everything, over and over again, to curb the nothingness and boredom. You reached the point of destroying everything, over and over again, to curb the nothingness and boredom. 

Yet here Ink was. Playing as one of the so-called “good guys”. 

“Then how do you feel?” you press the issue. 

“Oh? I’m good!” Ink says cheerfully. 

“No– how do you feel feelings if you're soulless?” you huff.

“Huh? Oh!” Ink exclaims, and then takes out one of those colorful vials he carries on a sash everywhere he goes. “I don’t! Not naturally, anyway. I have these to help me!” he shakes the little vial — yellow, barely anything remaining inside. They're all in different quantities.

You frown. “What? How? Are they magic?” you reach to take the vial but Ink pulls it back. Now that's interesting.

“Sort of?” Ink squints at the vial. “They correspond to different emotions, but I think they only work on me,” 

...Of course. 

You let go of his scarf. 

You consider fighting him to snatch one of the vials and try it anyway. You know it's pointless, however.

The disappointment is crushing. You feel like a drug addict who was just handed a bag overflowing with white powder only to discover it's flour. 

“You should leave before I dice you into dust.”

The disappointment is crushing. 

Hah. Hahahah. As if. As if it could be as easy as drinking some paint. Of course not. When has your life ever been easy? No, you are doomed to be like this forever. You knew this. It's downright hilarious you thought (hoped), even for less than a moment, that there could be anything else. 

It's so funny you're chuckling.

It's so funny you're laughing. 

When Ink leaves, you're still howling with laughter, black liquid streaming down your face.

—

The quiet around here was deafening. It was starting to make Killer hyperaware of every quiet rustle of clothing from every little movement. Several times he caught himself starting to talk to himself, trying to fill the quiet with jokes or something. But that was a slippery slope, so he shut the hell up. If he didn't talk, hopefully nothing would start replying. He refused to get corrupted by the glitches. 

Luckily — and that is a weird descriptor — Ink returned. For some known-only-to-him reason. 

“Why the hell are you back?” Killer asked, not bothering to get up this time. Just laying on his back. He's here on a vacay. 

“Well!” Ink said, and judging by the changing direction of his voice, he was moving around. “The empty white is literal torture, isn't it?” he chuckled.

“What would you know,” Killer mimed rolling his eyes. Wasn't Ink some almighty creator? He could just hurl some ink around and it wouldn't be white anymore.

Ink laughed. “Oh trust me, I know,” 

Killer felt like he was missing something. 

“Can't you just, I don't know, paint it?” 

“Yep! That's what I'm doing right now!” Ink explained cheerfully. Killer pushed himself up to look, now.

Huh. Yeah. Ink was going around with his brush, using the white space as a big canvas. Killer squinted, unable to decipher what exactly he was drawing, besides some colors and shapes. Red and pink, blue in different shades, yada yada. 

“...What is it,” Killer observed Ink’s movements, walking around him, deliberate but free flowing. 

“Just whatever feels right,” Ink shrugged. “The different hues have different, you know, vibes, depending on how you mix them, how you use them against one another– oh can you step to the side there?” 

He did, getting to his feet and stepping aside.

“Thanks!” Ink said, filling in the spot. 

Killer squinted, still trying to figure out what it all was. The warm colors looked like a flame maybe...? 

He kept watching Ink work for a few more moments. It was weird, to be alone with someone, without a constant background thrum of negativity. Killer couldn't call it pleasant, but... it was better than the emptiness. 

Suddenly he was hauled up and his reflexes immediately fired off, magic materializing in an immediate attack and just as soon he was dropped. 

“Wow you are jumpy!” Ink exclaimed, holding the wound that Killer cut into him. It didn't seem too deep, mostly due to Ink’s durability. He was standing on top of a short pillar of ink. 

“Don't forget who you're talking to,” Killer threatened with a low tone, grin stretching as he gripped a sharp, sharp knife in hand. 

“Whoops!” Ink didn't seem all too affected. “Don't you wanna see what it is though?” he leaned on a hand, all silly. 

...

Killer accepted being lifted up by a glob of ink, mildly curious. 

He stared at the splatter on the white ground. 

It was a moth. In shades of icy, hopeless blue. Surrounded by scorching red flames. Huh. Okay them. Pretty cool, or something. At least it was colorful. 

Ink put him back down on the ground. With his hands on his hips, he admired his own work, chuckling.

“It’s nice to fill the emptiness, don't you think?” 

Killer had never bothered caring about the Stars. He didn't care about them as people, what they felt or what they thought. 

He... never would've expected to find understanding with one of them. 

“...Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, it is.”

—

.

.

.

“ARGH we’re too late?!” Dream blurted out. 

“Huh, I could've sworn he seemed to be staying here for longer,” Ink commented, much less affected. 

“The one time he and Nightmare aren’t attached at the hip–” Dream continued groaning. 

“Maybe Nightmare sensed we were planning to talk to him–?” Blue suggested, trying to investigate the nearly empty white space. All that remained were splotches from Ink’s activities. No Killer in sight. 

Dream sighed loudly, rubbing his face, greatly dejected. “That's... possible,” he breathed.

“We should've come here sooner,” Blue put his hands on his hips. 

“He wasn't very happy with the idea,” Ink shrugged. 

“It’s... we’ll have another opportunity,” Dream concluded. He had to stay positive and hopeful. “No matter how long we need to wait, we’ll figure out how to help them,” he remained determined.

[askinkiskarma]

Will it be possible to ask the reader teaching Jake's kids all the curse word alphabet . Then them using this stuff around jake. What would his reaction be?

anonnie i don't usually take requests but i actually enjoyed this hahahah

i had no idea a curse word alphabet was a thing, had to google it :))

hope you enjoy x

wc: 400

"Very good, Tuk. Now that we're done with A, what did I say B was?"

Tuk thought about it long and hard, and her eyes lit up in excitement as the word pushed past her tongue flawlessly, as if she was born to say it.

"BITCH!"

You and Lo'ak clapped loudly, cheering for your honorary sister and laughing at how excited she was about getting it right. There was something so incredibly puerile, but so, so hilarious about a child innocently cursing like a sailor. It was your responsability as the English speaker and the human to teach Tuk some Earth customs. After all, she was half human. You really had no choice but to do this, right?

Neteyam and Kiri were sitting in the corner of the tent, speaking lowly to each other and rolling their eyes at your immaturity. You knew deep down they found it funny. How could they not? But they were the responsible ones, and while maintaining this charade must be exhausting, you couldn't blame them for not partaking. You and Lo'ak would be in so much trouble when Jake gets whiff of this, but all punishment was worth it for this moment of pure bliss.

"Ok, Tuk-tuk. Now C."

"Remember C?"

"What the hell is going on here?" Jake bursts in through the flap of the tent, holding a gun in his arms and a dour, unamused expression on his face, his lips curled in an annoyed grimace.

"Are you two soiling my baby girl's mind again, teaching her things she shouldn't know for a really long time... or ever, preferably?"

You giggled at Lo'ak's ears that were pushed so far back, you could balance a book on either of them, no issue. While Lo'ak might be scared of his father and his military ways, you found Jake's outbursts funny and endearing. The fact that he couldn't stay mad at your Avatar face longer than a couple minutes at a time probably helped.

"I already took an ass-kicking from my wife from your little stunt about where babies come from. This time, any ass kicking I receive will be returned two fold, am I clear, soldiers?"

Your gaze fell to the floor, trying your best to look dignified and apologetic, but the enthusiastic swish of your tail did little to help you in your endeavour.

"Daddy, daddy, I remember C! Daddy, you are a cun-"

"NO, TUK!"

[catcze]

HI CATTE! big fan of ur works!! glad to see another wrio filo fan !!, can I request wrio trying to learn filo for Filipino!reader !! I think it's super cute and I feel like he would probably become fluent in secret to surprise you !!!!!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」  Wriothesley x GN! Filipino! reader

「 ### : 」  Fluff, some swearing, but overall very good vibes ♡ Reader can speak Tagalog! I'll be real this is super cheesy esp the tagalog dialogue but SUE ME I love cheesy shit and this is self indulgent. Written pre-4.1 release.Translation for Tagalog dialogue found at the end!

AAAA HI BABY ♡ I cannot express how happy this made me ?!?!? Like, I'm bumping it up on the prio because it made me sooo kilig when i read it HAHAHAH I hope you like it lots !! (also if any filos have corrections/improvement on the tagalog dialogue pls lmk because I am notttt the best at writing in tagalog dialogue lmao) also ! I changed it and made him, like, not super \ fluent yet at Tagalog, hence why imo some of his dialogue sounds a bit;;; like, practiced? textbook? if that makes sense? HAHAH

Wriothesley doesn't have some big, grand reason for doing any of this. It's not your birthday or your anniversary or anything like that. He's not meeting your parents and he sure isn't planning on proposing just yet.

In all honesty, it all started from a quick kiss you pressed to his cheek and a string of words in a foreign language whispered into his ear.

"What did you say?" he asks when you pull away, a small smile on your face.

"I said mahal kita," you tell him, a hand resting on his arm. Your eyes soften almost imperceptibly when you say the phrase again. You sound so damn fond when you say it, it makes his heart want to skip a beat. "It's one of the most common ways to say 'I love you' in Tagalog."

"Can you say it again?" He asks, and you easily comply.

Mahal kita. Mahal kita. Mahal kita. I love you. He turns the words over and over in his head, then tries to replicate how you pronounce it with his own tongue, but the words come out a bit funny thanks to his fontainese accent. He's not used to the intonation of the language and it shows, if your amused little laugh was anything to go by.

"Like this," you tell him after watching him struggle for a bit and taking mercy on his poor tongue. "Repeat after me." Then you open your mouth wide, so he can see how you do it.

"Ma."

"Ma?"

"-hull."

"-hull."

"Kih."

"Kih?"

"Mhm. Tah."

"Tah."

"Put all that together, and you get mahal kita."

He tries it again, but it still comes out a bit funky. Not at all like how you say it, sounding buttery smooth and practically dripping with charisma. Despite this, you still smile at him like he's given you the world in your palms, or like you're about to cry from happiness. You press your lips against his, stealing the air right from his lungs and making his eyes flutter shut. He can never get tired of kissing you, he thinks, and if messing up a little bit gets him this much affection, he can only imagine what you'd be like if he improved.

"Mahal din kita," you mumble against his lips, breaking away but not straying far.

After that, unbeknownst to you, Wriothesley picked up what is essentially (but not actually the title) a Tagalog for dummies book and hunted down a guard in the fortress who can speak the language enough for him to consult whenever merely reading the words on a page was not enough.

You've also begun to speak Tagalog more and more around him since finding out his interest in the language. You've even managed to correct his pronunciation a little bit, despite how new much of it was new to him.

("You have to roll your r's a bit more, Wrio. Like... like you're purring, i guess?" That, in particular, he heard quite often. Who knew that his mother tongue said their r's differently from yours? Certainly not him.)

He eats up every bit of advice you give him in passing when he tries to replicate whatever word or phrase you just said, quietly taking note in his head and repeating the phrases back to himself even when you're not around. He goes to that one guard he had dubbed as his 'Tagalog tutor' and peppers them with questions so often that he figures it warrants him to hand over a particularly generous bonus later on for letting him as much of a bother as he is.

And finally, after a good long while of giving it his best effort, his tutor deems him able to hold a conversation in Tagalog well enough, and promptly pushes him out the door, telling him to 'go get 'em, boss.' before hastily locking the door behind him.

When Wriothesley wanders back to your living quarters, reassuring himself that he's been practicing for this, for you, and that even if he gets it a little bit wrong, you're probably going to be happy either way. Probably.

"Sweetheart?" He calls, coming inside. He follows your faint 'over here' to find you on your bed in your casuals, relaxing for the day.

When you catch sight of him, you smile, beckoning him close, just to press a kiss to his lips when he leans over. "Hey," you say, grinning up at him.

"Kumusta ka? Namiss kita, mahal. " He says, the words coming out a soft murmur against your lips. You pause for a good while, jaw dropping and brows furrowing in confusion, and Wriothesley fears that he could have messed up somehow. Then a wide smile breaks across your face as you glow with absolute delight.

"Hoy, talaga?! Nagtatagalog ka?" You sit up to be eye-to-eye with him, and you see nothing short of pride in his eyes. One of your hands flies up to cover your mouth as you gasp. "Woah, ang galing mo!"

And oh, it's one of the cutest things you've ever seen from him— Wriothesley smiles, just s little bit, and the slightest hints of a blush dust his face. It's adorable to see how he reacts to your praise.

Wriothesley's eyes dart away from yours, one of the few tells of embarrassment you've ever seen from him. "Pasensya na, di pa ako magaling magtagalog. Nag aaral pa lang ako."

"Kahit na!" You're clearly enthused, happy and grinning and buzzing with energy. "Namiss din kita! Okay naman ako. Ikaw? Kumain ka na ba?" You're wide awake and looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky for you. Wriothesley is smiling now too. All those hours and late nights trying his best to get the words right, and this was the very reason why.

"Mhm, kanina pa, bago pumunta ko dito." One of his hands reaches up to your face. The callouses and scars of his hand drags a giggle from you as he tries to rub the sleep from your eyes. "Sana nakatulog ka ng maayos."

And compared to when you first told him you love him in your language, his Tagalog has improved by leaps and bounds. Still affected by his accent, yes, but his hard work showed through. It is that and the tenderness in his voice that makes you break this little song and dance between the two of you. Your hand reaches up to hold the one cupping your cheek, letting you lean further into his palm.

"Were you intending to surprise me? Because you certainly did. In a good way, I mean."

Wriothesley chuckles. "I'm glad. Been trying to learn it since that first time, and I think I'm making some progress. Though anything more than a simple conversation is still a bit much for me."

"Kahit na," you repeat yourself, "You're amazing! You got so good! Oh, we are going to have so much fun having secret conversations that no one else can understand."

He playfully quirks an eyebrow at that. "While that's definitely going to be some fun, I really wanted to learn how to, ah, tell you that I love you back."

"Oh." Again, you pause. "Well. Here's your chance, I guess." And you smile at him again, the one that has his heart skipping a beat. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him into your space, you press your forehead against his and close your eyes. He can feel your breath tickle against his lips, and he almost sighs in response.

"Mahal kita, Wriothesley."

"Mahal din kita, my love."

Translation:

"Kumusta ka? Namiss kita, mahal. " — "How are you? I missed you, love."

"Hoy, talaga?! Nagtatagalog ka? — "Hey, really?! You're actually speaking Tagalog?"

"Pasensya na, di pa ako magaling magtagalog. Nag aaral pa lang ako." — (spoken sorta formally) "Sorry, I'm not very good at speaking Tagalog yet. I'm still learning."

"Kahit na!" "Namiss din kita! Okay naman ako. Ikaw? Kumain ka na ba?" — "Even so!" "I missed you too! I'm fine. What about you? Have you eaten yet?"

"Mhm, kanina pa, bago pumunta ko dito." "Sana nakatulog ka ng maayos." — "Mhm, I did earlier, just before I came here." "Hopefully you had a good nap."

"Mahal kita, Wriothesley." — "I love you, Wriothesley."

"Mahal din kita, my love." — "I love you too, my love."

[inkedberries]

Hello! Just wanted to say that I’ve been following you since you Yuri on Ice days and it’s been SO cool to see what you’ve been up to the past few years!! That said you’ve made me CRAZY over Kudou/Yoichi!!!!! Fucking insane!!!! I’ve stumbled across them in your art, got curious about them, read literally every fic they have in ao3, refreshed the tumblr app and your account for new stuff, and spun in circles!!!! I literally know NOTHING about bnha, I had to read the wiki!!!! Overall the situation is funny to me because tragic ship with the chance of meeting again in the afterlife is such catnip to me but I know nothing at all…..

I really loved your comic where Kudou gets killed by the big man (AFO?) and it centers around their relationship ship regarding the word “hero”. I read your analysis too, it was really interesting! Anyways!!!! I’m super excited to see and support what you make during Kudou/Yoichi week!!!! Love your work and have for a long time! Hope you have a wonderful day :)

hello!!!! since yoi days????!?!?!? aaaaaaaaah omg!!!!! hi!!!!! thank you so much for sticking around!!!!!!!❤❤❤❤❤

this was such a lovely lovely message to read, thank you so much for taking the time to send this over, it really made my day :'D❤ AND I AM SO HAPPY I GOT YOU ON BOARD KUDOICHI HELLO WHAT A WONDERFUL PAIRING IT IS!!!! That comic in particular has been in the brain for a long while now bc i rlly want to encapsulate how Kudo and Yoichi's relationship cannot be talked about fully without the big man AFO, as a starting point!

the moment Kudo led Yoichi out of that vault, a timer over Yoichi's head started and it is so delectable hahahah! I also just really love all the moments we can think up that makes the two months before yoichi's death that makes it all the more tragic. I really hope they'll get more notice once season 8 hits and AFO and Yoichi's backstory is shown!!

But in the meantime, I'd be very happy to provide more kudoichi art before that happens❤

I'm very excited about kudoichi week!! I really hope people are able to participate so we can share more of the kudoichi love

[meanbossart]

Massive ask compilation time OH LORD

YES, her journals are a fun read. I somewhat wish there was more to her and The Dark Urge's interactions, too - she's wonderfully evil and clearly very attached to you if you're playing as that character, but I had hoped there was more of a reason for her obsession besides just "you were fun to cut up", haha. I remember reading her journal over a couple of times looking for something I might have missed.

His reaction was pretty in line with the Narrator's cues, just immediate rage over what she had done to him - DU Drow may be a masochist but that's reserved for people he cares about! So, her and her posse met a swift end. Also, despite the fact that the whole tadpole thing turned out being for the best, I think he's easily overtaken by resentment over his lost glory-days whenever faced with it so directly (he misses living in obliviousness) - not to mention his profound fear of vulnerability, and of feeling... Small. The way Kressa spoke to and of him would have absolutely shook him to his core, especially by doing so in front of the others.

[MORE UNDER CUT]

THANK YOU so much for your kind words first of all! As for the question, it depends a bit on the timeline; his dislike of female drow, especially at the start of his tadpole'd journey is pretty irrational and faith status wouldn't be of too much relevance, he just thinks It's in their nature to want to put him down and be conniving, and wants nothing to do with them.

Later, and especially post-game, he might at least give them a chance to prove they aren't "like other drow", though it would take him a lot to ever let his guard down entirely - UNLESS you seem like a complete fool LOL he's actually easy to trick into dismissing you as long as you don't mind playing the role of a dumb idiot.

But if not, he'd have an extremely short patience for any attempts to exert authority over him or his actions - or jokes at his expense, or any level of smugness or secrecy. Nymea would definitely feel kept at arms length because of the gender+race combo alone and have to put up with a lot of snideness. Basically, she'd have to treat this 6'4" feet tall freak with kids gloves to ever develop a rapport LOL

But also... The vampirism may "help"? He'd consider her a "lesser drow" for it. In that regard her attitudes toward Astarion would probably come to be relevant. I'm not sure about that aspect of it to be honest!

First of all, this is a hysterical scenario because he Would just fucking put the ring on without thinking about it LOL so thank you for the laugh that mental image just provided me with.

Oh he wouldn't care though. I mean, he dislikes drow in general, but he is a drow (up for debate, but you know, generally speaking) and he thinks he's pretty great. As long as he's still huge and strong he could wake up a woman tomorrow and not give a damn. And, frankly, his dick could turn into a pussy at any point in time and it wouldn't change anything about his character save for having to add a recurring UTI problem to his character sheet - he'd probably have fun with it.

TOTALLY FAIR, I'm very sorry it went past the point of enjoyment for you, but I'm glad you knew when to put it down!!! We're in our hand-holding and elf-smooching era now with the occasional visceral description of violence LOL SO YOU'RE WELCOME IN IF YOU'D LIKE. Thank you for dropping by!

Just putting this here because - I actually haven't decided yet, so that's pretty funny you asked LOL I'm leaning eyes closed though, nothing like a smooch to calm the big weirdo down.

HAHAHAH WELCOME BACK, I've been around this whole time! But I was hanging out on twitter for the most part. HOPE YOU'RE INTO THE DND STUFF LOL

DROW DURGES RISE UP I'll be honest with you friend, DU drow's lore has been as accidental as something like that can be, so much of it has felt completely organic in the way it came up - I guess that's what good RPG does to your brain. The rest of it has just been a wonderful opportunity to develop my writing that I decided to take full advantage of this year. Thank you so much for the lovely message!

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Aaaaand I can barely muster something to say that feels like an appropriate response, but again I wanted to acknowledge all the sweet compliments people take the time to leave in my inbox. Some of you guys' comments about the things I create blow me away, I think I'm pretty confident in my art but... Damn, makes me so happy to know the stuff I create can hold a little special place to some folks. Thank you all so, so much for taking time out of your day to spread a little kindness around, and make mine a little better.

Again, thank you all for humoring me, have a lovely day folks!

[animentality]

@weavewithshadow just informed me that Enver means luminous or shining one...

and he was working with/ in love with the DARK urge?

Oh hahahah, you're SO funny, Larian, so funny, I'm laughing so hard, come over to my house tomorrow, please, I wanna have a word.