#i give long answers XD

[elvenbeard]

Blaze of glory or quiet life? Why not a little bit of both?

#otp: to bad decisions | 2025 Commissions | Ko-Fi

[iristial]

ryutarookada_official: 【Report 】 I passed the 2024 bar exam.

RYUTARO'S FIRST INSTAGRAM UPDATE IN FOUR YEARS, WHO ELSE CHEERED

[ganondoodle]

rough draft for chapter 2 of my zelda comic has finally been COMPLETED! current page count is 68, but that can change as im going through, cutting and redoing panels and all

i will start (trying) to render the first pages soon (its been so long ...)

[polarisbibliotheque]

So like, less of a suggestion and more of a question - I recently found your works and have just been blown away by the details (like, seriously, you're on the top of my favorite writers list) and just how... perfect you craft everything? I genuinely inspire to be like you, but the problem is that I've hit a rut - I'm super unsatisfied with my writing, and whenever I try to get back into the writing zone, I just fall flat. Is there any advice you could give on how to improve one's writing? What would be your tips and tricks at getting into that writing zone?

(Do apologize me taking SO LONG to answer, but I had some health emergencies the last couple of weeks and ended up in the hospital – I’m doing better now, chilling at home and trying to recover. My doctor is 90% sure I have Crohn’s Disease and I’m having many ups and downs trying to find a proper treatment that I seem to respond to. BUT…)

…I hope you are aware of how much you made me smile, blush and almost indulge into my teary eyes upon reading this. Hahahaha seriously, thank you SO much!! I can’t even thank you enough, I’m just in pure awe that another being in this big ol’ world we live in thinks so highly of my writing!!

I mean, not even I think that highly of my writing. Notice a pattern? ;)

One thing I learned being an artist – not only writing, I also draw, play the piano, write music on my free time/when inspiration hits, everything creative, I’m there, doing it – is that we’re never really satisfied with our work. We will always think we could’ve done something better, and we’re definitely going to be pretty “meh” about a lot of things we do – even when other people think it’s a masterpiece.

And that is good! We’ll always strive to perfect our skills! You just have to remember to appreciate the work you do even when you’re not completely satisfied with it. You will get to where you want to – but then, you’ll wish to improve even more! And that is awesome!

But hey, I do have some tips and tricks on improving and getting into that writing vibe!

For the people getting to the party now, my main tip on improving is here, in the first part of the answer for this ask! Now, now…

(long post below, as expected YEE BEEN WARNED!)

Regarding improving:

Read. A. Lot. Hahaha I know that’s quite an obvious one, but it’s really important. Personally, I think reading mindlessly just to fill a quota of “I read 25 books a month” doesn’t work. It works when you absorb it – when you allow yourself to plunge into the world of the book you’re reading, feeling the characters, the emotions, the settings… That helps you build your “mental library” so to speak! And sometimes you’ll find things and expressions you like that you might use both on your daily speech and while writing – for instance, I have this awful thing of saying “there’s a lack of wings to my words” whenever I’m speechless, because of Homer’s Odyssey. I freaking LOVE that book, I loved that expression, I use it all the time, and it has definitely bled into my writing.

WRITE! A LOT! Write bad stuff, good stuff, short 2 pages thing-ys that you go “hey that’s a good idea!” but you’ll never actually turn into a full story, random scenes, fanfiction, stupid fanfiction, serious fanfiction, self-indulgent stories, stories for your family, stories for yourself, stories for whoever wants to read or not, dreams that could be great stories… The point is to write. It’s much like drawing or playing the piano: if you don’t practice, you won’t get better and you won’t develop your style. The more you practice, the better you get! So don’t be afraid to write bad stuff, cringy stuff, or ridiculous stuff – or even stuff you thought would be awesome and turns out bad, or stuff you think will never turn into anything that turn amazing! One way or another, you’ll be refining your craft!

Identify what you like on writers you admire. I started noticing that while reading The Silmarillion. The Lord of the Rings is my favorite book since I read it for the first time when I was 15, but I didn’t pick up The Silmarillion until I was around 22 – and by then, I started underlining with a light pencil all the phrases I liked most, something my mom did on her old books when she was around my age. I then started taking a look at what I liked about Tolkien’s writing so much – and in other books too: what kind of phrases seemed to resonate more with my soul. Which ones brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face. And then I notice I tend more to the unconventional ways of describing things.

For instance, instead of going like “she was beautiful, with pale skin under raven dark hair, blue eyes shining on her fair face” I tend to go for the unconventional, sort of eerie, not so much taken for granted kind of describing “her beauty glowed like the first pale star to glisten in the evening sky, under a deep sea of dark, velvety hair, making her eyes twinkle like sapphires with a smart look while carrying the light she kept in her soul”. If I had to, the second one would be how I’d describe Arwen or Lúthien, giving them that ethereal otherworldly beauty they have. It's also the one that evokes more feelings inside of me rather than just a mental image.

That’s why I try to describe some things in a different light. When I’m writing, I want people to feel something – but how can you describe that feeling of joy when you hug someone you love and the whole world fades for a minute? That’s when I go for the “his heart bled with gold while his hands never wanted to let them go. For a minute, time seemed to stop and there was nothing else but his heartbeat intertwining with theirs, beating as the same song – even if theirs was more melodic while his was more melancholic. It was that kind of tune that made his lungs not remember how to breathe and his eyes pour – while his lips reflected all the gold that cascaded from his heart.” It’s a quick (rather ridiculous) example, but I do think about some things: how when I feel like that, I tend to have a hard time breathing and I do cry, but it’s because I want to smile so much I cannot contain it. Then I try to describe those feelings with metaphors and poetic stuff because I’m a melodramatic bitch.

Jokes aside, it’s because I like that sort of writing that has that beauty behind it – or more of a melancholic approach. It’s what resonates the most with me and I adopted it, even if sometimes it feels too… Abstract. I like that ability of people piecing the abstractness together and having their own interpretation – and that’s what makes people have different feelings while reading the same thing.

Is this for everyone? Absolutely not. I bet some people despise all that poeticness I like to put on words to lace them like a painting, you know? So, the more you re-read the things you like, you’ll start identifying what resonates with you and you can apply that to your own writing!

And that doesn’t mean you’ll have to be locked on that writing style as well. I’m currently trying to finish a book (I hope someday I can publish it) which is a cyberpunk style story, with lots of inspiration from Cyberpunk 2077, Blade Runner, John Wick (yes, Keanu Reeves sends his regards) and all that poetic writing doesn’t quite fit there. I’m using more of a direct approach, but there’s a lot of existentialism and reflecting on overcoming grief, trauma, owning your own life and contemplating one’s own mortality – and that’s where that poetic, metaphoric, melancholic, bittersweet characteristic of my writing style comes into play. And then everyone starts cursing and shooting each other again :)

Having a style doesn’t mean getting stuck in it – it means knowing when and where to use it!

Now regarding getting into the writing zone:

I freaking ADORE music and it helps me A TON while I’m writing. It’s like setting the mood. I’m trying to be sexy, or mysterious, or having that vampire-y vibe? Depeche Mode playlist it is. Fight scenes? Metal and Electronic. I need to freaking focus and get to work without thinking too much about the music (or start dancing like crazy whenever a song I love comes in and there I am, dancing and singing in my room at 3 a.m)? Piano playlists – classic, modern, everything and anything, as long as it is piano.

Playing music that goes with what I’m writing also helps. For my cyberpunk book, for instance, I put on the Cyberpunk 2077 OST playlist/radio on, or I search for “Cyberpunk Ambience/Playlist” on Youtube and let it roll while I write. For my King Arthur stories (yes, still working on them), I put on Celtic music compilations, Enya, Loreena McKennitt or the piano playlists. For my vampire stories, be the medieval or the near-future one, dark piano, Dark Wave, etc. Perhaps searching for that one playlist that has to do with your story setting and listening to it for some time might get you in the zone!

I also usually write deep in the night. Because I’m a spawn of Dracula. After everyone at home has gone to sleep, I make myself some hot tea, sit on my computer, start listening to music and write. That’s because I know I won’t be interrupted, and I can do just that. Sometimes, I start writing at 1 a.m, other times earlier, other times later. Try to notice when your ideas seem to flow better and when you get more into the zone – but please, don’t be unhealthy as I am and go to sleep at a decent hour. I’m not an example here with my sleeping schedule hahahaha

Cringy moment: when I’m stuck, I act the last scene I wrote as one of my characters in the shower and, usually, ideas start to come in (and I have to get off the shower). Hahahaha now that’s just a weird one, but I have NO idea why, my best ideas arise in the shower. Water has a weird effect on me, so sometimes I just stand there with warm water pouring over my head and, lo and behold, I’m exiting the shower in a hurry because I just got my writer mood back HAHAHA so maybe some very mundane activity – like cooking, taking the trash out, cleaning the room – might be where your writer brain will come to life. You never know.

Needless to say, I talk to myself a lot, sometimes as if I’m talking to the characters. That is a very bad coping mechanism I developed when I was being bullied at school – I used to pretend Dante was with me when I was alone or something had happened and I needed someone by my side, so nowadays I have a very easy time writing this man. I started doing that with some of my characters, and that goes for repeating lines or part of the stories I’m writing to see if I can get un-stuck. It’s not the greatest of things, but it works. My neighbors might think I’m crazy, though xD

When I’m completely unmotivated or I keep staring at the blank page without being able to write, I try to immerse myself in what I’m writing about. So, if I’m stuck on my cyberpunk book, I watch some Cyberpunk 2077 let’s plays, I re-watch the Edgerunners anime, I re-watch Blade Runner, I re-read some parts of Do Androids Dream of Electrical Sheep? or I, Robot, I listen to Blade Runner’s soundtrack, I even try to play Cyberpunk 2077 (while praying not to get motion sickness or not having my pc exploding from overworking). If I’m stuck on my King Arthur works, then I re-watch the 2004 movie (may the gods bless Ioan Gruffudd and his wonderful Lancelot and Mads Mikkelsen as my beloved Tristan), re-read the 3 books on the Chronicles of Arthur series, listen to some Celtic music, research Arthurian stories for hours on the internet, search for my encyclopedias at home to see if they have something on King Arthur, read obscure translated manuscripts from ancient times on it … So, immersing yourself on reading, researching, listening to music, watching movies, playing videogames, listening to stories, watching series, reading mangas, watching anime, documentaries, going to the movies, basically doing anything that has to do with the theme you’re writing, may get you in the mood. Next time you sit down to write, it might flow wonderfully!

I don’t force myself to write, though. If I do, I usually can’t write a single decent word and I’ll hate it. If things aren’t flowing – and this I learned with my mom, who also draws – I leave it for a while and go do something else. Maybe I’ll have some warm tea, or watch a completely unrelated movie, or read my current book, or talk to my parrot in the kitchen, play some piano, draw a little, or just take a good nap. My mom says it refreshes the head and the eyes, and when you come back to it, you’ll be a lot more inclined to find things that weren’t working and let those creative juices flow.

I also have a very weird search history and I’m not ashamed of it. All writers do, and it’s better to have a weird search history than not knowing what you’re talking about, honestly. And sometimes, researching takes a lot more time than writing and might get you motivated – time spent learning is never wasted. Even if you’re learning what kind of dates grow in Greece and are offered to Apollo (bless his heart).

Sometimes, I write something completely unrelated, with a very different theme, and stupidly goofy – and that gets me back to the writing vibes. Sometimes there’s just this need of writing something for the sake of writing, and you just want something foolish to make you smile like a goof. It’s valid and it might be your ticket out of writing-rut-land.

Now some little uncalled for advices:

I spent too long being self-conscious and too serious about it. If it’s not your style, don’t force it. Some people need structure, other people thrive in chaos – know what’s your style and go for it. I hate planning novels, for example. But I will outline the main points of the story and the ending – the rest, well, the characters have to show me whatever else they’re doing, and I have to go with it. Sometimes there are huge arcs I didn’t plan as a main point of the story, but they pop up in the middle of it and they are important – I like leaving that room for impromptu writing/creating. So, find out how it works for you, not how it works for everyone else.

You don’t have to create masterpieces right at the first time you’re writing. Take my King Arthur thing-y for example. I wrote the full story when I was 15. When I was in college, I decided to re-write it. And then, when I was at work, I decided to re-write the re-write. And now, I just took all my files, read them, thought about it all, outlined a whole new story and decided to write anew. Not re-write, but take all that work and write as if I had never written anything before – in the original file, the main characters were 15 years old and in school, now they have their jobs at Universities and work on the secret society that is now a lot more fleshed out and built with loads of new characters around (including a new one I created yesterday after months not thinking about it).

If I hadn’t written the Twilight-sort of embarrassing thing when I was 15, I wouldn’t have this whole universe, characters and story to build upon nowadays. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was a good idea – and I’ll keep working on it until I’m happy with it. It’s been 13 years I’m working on it now, maybe when it reaches its 15th anniversary, I’ll be able to finally let it see the light of day!

Don’t listen to the “NEVER DO THIS!!” advices. Seriously. Writing is a form of art – and, as in all art, there isn’t a right or wrong. By all means, see what people are saying it’s bad and you should never do – I watch and read those advices so I can learn to be better too! – but don’t take it to heart. As Captain Barbossa would say, it’s more of a guideline than rules set in stone. Sometimes, something people say you should NEVER EVER do is something that works perfectly fine for you and your style of writing. Learn to make up your own mind: learn new things, listen to advices, but absorb those that resonate with you and leave those that don’t. That’s how you create your own opinion about things and how you find your writing style!

One fun thing to point out on this as an example: me, my mom, my sister and my dad ADORE reading. My sister loves Jane Austen, my mom is a super fan of Dostoyevsky and Russian literature, while my dad lives for Isaac Asimov and all things sci-fi. I love sci-fi, my mom can’t stand it. I read Dante’s Inferno in a week and my mom couldn’t get past the first verses. My sister can’t read poetry at all and is terribly bored by Lord of the Rings. My dad read my Chronicles of Arthur books and even told me to buy the complete the series. Me and my sister enjoyed Khaled Hosseini’s books a lot, but my mom never felt like reading them.

All of this to say: it’s not a matter of who’s more intellectual than the other, it’s a matter of who likes which kind of literature and writing styles. Some people are more comfortable with one way of writing or a certain kind of literature and can’t stand others – and that’s ok. Writing is pretty much the same. THERE ARE NO FIXED RULES! BE A REBEL!

If it helps you: character sheets. Around 8 years ago – or more – I searched and searched online for the character sheet that could help me the best. I had never done it before and thought it was quite useless, until I downloaded one and started filling the infos on my main characters of my Arthurian sort of story. Lo and behold, they became SO MUCH BETTER and that’s when I started rewriting everything: I understood all characters a LOT better and made better decisions when writing them. It doesn’t work for everyone, though, but it’s a lot of fun for me. Currently, I don’t use it much because I now know what are the main things I need for my characters to seem alive, but it’s always nice to have a reference when you’re writing.

My cyberpunk story, for instance, it has A BUNCH of characters with scars, different hair colours, different eye colours, the way they dress, birthmarks, cyber-implants, cyber-prothesis, dressing styles… And sometimes I get lost in it. So it’s nice keeping a character sheet when I go like “wait, she has burn marks on the left arm or the right arm…?”

And keeping a file on worldbuilding might be helpful as well. I noticed that writing my cyberpunk thing. The first thing I wrote was a huge file explaining the city, the factions, the districts, people’s styles, who are the viruses, the sub-types of viruses, the political parties, the police and secret police, the difference between artificials and organics, how does access to the world works, what is the Ocularis system, the most important corporations, their names, their owners… And all those things will probably never appear on this story.

But I felt a HUGE difference. Instead of info-dumping right at the beginning to make the reader understand how the world is built and how it works, I started it right at an important point in the story. No one knows anything about how things work, but, as the characters speak to each other, they talk about so many things that the reader catches things and pieces together how all things are organized.

Don’t try to explain everything. Tying with I said before, if you have a very good idea of how things work, how the characters relate to each other, how they react and how they think, you won’t need to info-dump. I usually think I’m seeing my characters going about their day and that is ALL I’m describing: what they are saying, feeling, thinking and doing. If I feel something is missing for people to fully understand, then I add something quite minimal to help. But I don’t overexplain: people are intelligent and they can piece things together.

Don’t go full Marvel movies and explain everything as if no one can understand unless you say it. Go Nolan and try to make people understand with images, feelings, glances, metaphors and such. It’s very effective in writing! (Don’t get me wrong, I do like Marvel movies, but they have become those kinds of movies that require little mental effort because literally everything will be explained in a huge monologue or through dialogue. You don’t always need dialogues – and if you say “oh that’s too ambiguous and people won’t be certain about it” that’s the beauty of art: it’s always up to interpretation)

Having someone to read and give you feedback might be very helpful too. I have a few friends every now and then I send some of my stories so they’ll read and give me an honest feedback. I try to listen to their opinions and refine my work – but if I think they critique doesn’t make sense, I thank them anyway and keep on doing my thing. Like I said, know when to take what makes sense and when let go of something that doesn’t. Also: feedback is NOT a personal attack. DON’T TAKE IT TO HEART. See it always as something you may need to improve – and you’ll improve quicker.

At the end of the day, writing is art. And all art is relative.

Your art will be great to some and horrible to others – and that’s ok! Again, learn to NOT make it personal (the critiques, I mean, because art is always personal and that’s wonderful, I think).

And repeat after me: you will not please everyone. The point is to make yourself proud. You’ll find your people along the way.

Do it because you love. Do it because it comes from your heart, from your soul. The world has become so filled with content, mindlessly created by artificial intelligence so we will keep consuming, that things have lost so much of their soul.

To make art, to write, is to have soul. If you have that heart, that passion in your work, it will show – and people will follow. When you sit to write, don’t make it a chore, don’t make it an aesthetic tiktok post, don’t follow the routine of this or that famous artist – do what you have to do and let your heart flow. Do it for you.

I think that’s the main advice I can give. Don’t do content to post on social media and look good, do your art. Push your boundaries, test new things, write in ways you never did before, but do your thing.

When everyone is doing the same thing over and over again, you’ll realize your words will stand out by doing what you want to do.

Again thanks for attending my TED Talk xD

[countlessrealities]

Send a ❤ and my muse will confess one thing they find attractive about yours || Accepting !

@dynamoprotocol sent: ❤ Rick for Clarissa/Chance (your choice for time period!)

It takes Rick a good deal of self control not to uneasily shift in his spot. Talking about Clarissa is hard. Hell, even just thinking about her is, even now that things between them are settling down and getting better. Very, very, very slowly.

As much as he hates to admit it, he can't say that he's surprised. A few awkward apologies and several clumsy attempts to reconnect and make it up to her aren't enough to erase their history. It's very likely that nothing ever will. Outside of going back and changing the past, of course, but time travel is something he doesn't engage in as a rule. Too much trouble, too many risks of fucking it up.

But never mind all that. The point is that there's still so much to fix, so much that's broken and he isn't even sure that they will ever manage to find all the pieces and stich all the wounds. It would be much easier if they could have just started anew, but it's simply not possible. Because of the magnitude of what has passed between them, but also because of the kind of people they are.

They both share the bad habit of being unable to let go of the past, even more...and maybe especially...when it's detrimental for their present and future.

Rick grits his teeth, taking a swing out of his flask to try and get his focus back. He's digressing and he refuses to get distracted by his own misery when it has little to do with what he's supposed to think about. To hell with his self-loathing and guilt.

Still, he can't stop himself from looking away as he starts to speak.

"I-I could make my life simple an-and go for the obvious shit." How hot she is, good-looking in a raw, tough way. "O-Or mentioning one of the usual things I-I find appealing in people." Her intelligence, her strong will, her wittiness. "B-But she'd roll her eyes at me an-and call me lame or lazy or something, s-so I guess I'll put some effort in it."

He's acting like he finds the idea annoying, like he feels forced against his will, but it's all a front. Honest, heartfelt praises are the least Clarissa deserves. And, even more than those, she deserves his honesty.

"S-She's fuckin' reckless at times. O-Out of arrogance, b-but mostly because she doesn't give a shit if she gets hurt."

Self-loathing, self-punishment, self- destruction. The belief that you deserved all the ill the universe had to offer, so you go ahead and seek it out. He is far too familiar with all of thay.

"I-It gets dangerous and ugly, an-and it shouldn't be...so fuckin' appealing, but it is. T-To me."

It's like watching a car crash. It's that very same sort of morbid fascination, mixed with a more primal heat and a deep sense of twisted kinship. It's almost like looking in a mirror, but the violence and the bitterness and then annihilation are so terrifyingly beautiful.

"S-She's wild and uncontrollable," like the charge and electricity of her dynamo power, "an-and just crazy at times and I..."

Love it.

"...i-it drives me crazy."

[fairysteve]

@papermachedragons The second part of answering your ask!

Are there any features to him that are always there in the corner of your eyes but which the human mind willingly ignore in order to conserve sanity and willful ignorance? Like he smiles and his teeth are always a little too sharp? Or he doesn’t have a shadow? Or his eyes change color (which I do know you posted about at one point)? His hands are like claws and even though they sometimes look like hands, they aren’t and if you touch them even when they look like hands you’d feel a claw? I know he mostly doesn't care and doesn’t bother to hide everything behind a human facade, but how inhuman are we talking about? 

Okay, it’s already established that his looks are everchanging, including his eyes going through a spectrum of shades during a week. And that he’s not trying too hard at being a convincing mortal. But let’s go through the questions one by one! 

Features that are always there in the corner of your eye? Not exactly. His eyes might appear black if you’re not looking at him directly; they are black still, underneath the disguise, and the corner of your eye is often where you see through the most magic. But that’s so easy to wave away as a play of the light. (And it’s only his eyes that you might be able to see through – they're the windows to the soul after all.) 

Teeth are always a little too sharp? His canines are definitely a bit longer and sharper than could pass as human, falling more in line with other mortal creatures. (And it took him a while to figure out the right amount of teeth; too many and his mouth felt crowded, too few and it looked wrong. And wisdom teeth only made it all the more confusing.) 

Doesn’t have a shadow? He has one, but it flickers. Magic doesn’t cast a shadow by itself, and he is magic, but he has a solid shape, can be touched, so he does block out the sun. Still, his solidity flickers like his looks, leaving his shadow to do the same. It looks like static sometimes, sunshine filtering through him in pinpricks. 

Eyes change colour? Well, we’ve gone over the spectrum of shades and them looking black. They do change colour completely sometimes; he sees a colour he likes and it bleeds into his eyes for a second, before his disguise rights itself. The part of the eye differs, though the pupil and iris happen more often than the sclera. 

Hands are like claws? No, he has always preferred using his teeth where others would use claws. His hands are maybe the most human thing about him. With that said, his nails might draw some attention. He likes the idea of them being coloured but doesn’t understand nail polish, so he simply changes the nail itself. You’d notice if you were to look at them closely, or touch them, that something isn’t right. (He approaches makeup the same way he does nail polish, making it part of his form instead of the addition it’s supposed to be.) 

How inhuman are we talking about? Oh, nothing about him is human, is barely mortal for whatever that means. A shape – a disguise – can only do so much, especially when he barely tries to contain himself. If you open him up, his insides will not look right. He has tried putting muscles and blood veins and lungs the way they should be after looking in books and on operation tables, but he doesn’t bleed red if he bleeds at all, and he doesn’t breathe unless he consciously inhales or exhales. His muscles work right – he likes the burn from overexertion, so he put more thought into it. He has bones; the body doesn’t feel right without them. But nerves? A stomach? Anything else that makes up a body? Magic fills those spaces for him. 

[idv-the-scientist]

✂️ Hair Swap

[swapped with the Gravekeeper - Andrew Kreis]

“I feel a bit shy like this… I just feel like I’m missing something…”

---

> promts

[quaranmine]

Honestly, has nothing to do with anything in the published hcxfw fic at all, but given the year setting I couldn’t help but be curious (since it sounds like Scar keeps good contact with his mom). If firewatch!Scar and Grian ever hitched up together someday way down the line, you think Scar would try to hide it from his mother (be it his or Grian's request) or is she understanding that Scar is able to be open to her about his feelings?

Hello anon! This is honestly a very specific question that I just have not thought about? Well, not in the context of their families/friends. I do think that the time period would influence things of course. This is a story grounded—often very tragically—in realism, so it wouldn't just be ignored. It is even implied in the main fic that one of the reasons Grian's boss is awful toward him is that he doesn't actually believe that he and Mumbo were just "roommates." How fw!Grian and fw!Scar themselves would navigate a relationship could go a million different ways depending on how the post-storyline/au-storyline goes. (Is this their first gay relationship? Is this a version of the story with past Grumbo or not?)

I haven't written that and do not presently plan to, so I don't want to definitively lock down any specific ideas. You're free to theorize what you want.

However, in general my answer is that I feel like I've traumatized both of these characters enough that I'd rather give them a little peace with supportive family/friends. I think his mom would be okay with it. I think she probably just desperately wants him to be happy after the last decade. Losing your husband and almost losing your son at the exact same time probably does that to you.

[paladincecil]

I won a Lightbringer ring in osrs tonight by answering a question about full metal alchemist xD

It's worth 3mil but I'm gonna keep it'll be useful when skilling :)

[nataliedecorsair]

I wanted to give you some of Pticenoga's Borderlands AU backstory, how she was raised by Shade and before starting her shenanigans with Vaughn.

Plus a bonus comic about how she decided to set up a meeting for Vaughn and Shade, but didn't tell Vaughn who is supposed to be there x) Mostly because Vaughn has met Shade before in his macabre World of Curiosities museum and thought that Shade is too weird for him. Well, that's the kind of person that would raise a feral harpy siren, gotta deal with it!

When she was very young, nothing bothered her much as she was just a wild baby exploring the world x) And Shade was a good father figure to her. However, as she grew older, she realized that she doesn't really "fit in": yeah, Pandora is a crazy planet, but not every person there is crazy. There are plenty of "regular folk" like Shade or other people from their town - and many others. And she was frequently called a monster, a mutant and many other things by the regular kids and even adults. She was wild though, could bite them or fight with them in a pretty feral manner, and, even though she protected herself, it didn't help the situation much. She wasn't crazy enough (and too small) to fit in with the psychos or bandits, was "too human" for actual monsters living on Pandora, and for a long time she had no idea she was a Siren, as even for Sirens she looked too different. Only when she hit her teens, she was able to confirm that she is one, started using her powers, and in her human form she could see the full extension of the glowing pattern she had on her skin. She still, however, didn't know why she wasn't born "normal", and there were no older Sirens around.

At some point, she decided to become independent and live on her own. Her "wild" upbringing was helping that a lot, and she felt fine being away from people. She'd still visit Shade frequently, of course, and at some point she'd even met Zer0 and could hang out with him for some time. As Zer0 is a mystery himself, they had some common ground between them (though constantly listening to his haiku were exhausting xD). Sadly, Vault Hunters attract attention, not always positive, and that was the reason why she got spotted by a big bandit gang (could be the beginning of Vallory's gang, but before she took over). And local scientists like Tannis already declared that there may be some connection between Sirens and the Vaults. And they noticed that she's a Siren, but also pretty young (and dumb). After the first Vault on Pandora was opened, there was plenty of weird and valuable stuff around, but it wasn't so easy to get it when you're just regular bandits. And when Eridians, the aliens that are guarding the Vault, are everywhere. The Sirens like Lilith were too strong for them, and hiring a Vault Hunter is expensive, so they decided to wriggle into her favor and use her to gain access to the area. She didn't know she was dealing with bandits first, she naively thought it's a rare case of nice fellows just wanting to be friends and such, plus the Vault could have answers about her origin, and the new "friends" confirmed it.

At some point, she realized she was being used, and got into a fight with the bandits - and lost, as there were too many of them, and she had too little experience, and they knew about Shade. She got kidnapped and told that she'd do everything they told her to do, or they'd kill Shade, so she had to obey. She helped them to fight the way to the Vault and get some of the riches, and during the process she felt that she really does have a connection with Eridians - they boosted her powers and helped her to get free, and kill every presenting member of the gang. She was worried about Shade though, so she left immediately to find him before the remaining members found out what happened and could harm him. But she was too late - the water source in their town of Oasis was poisoned, and every single person there died. Except Shade though - he lasted longer, but dehydration made him insane, and he turned corpses into the stuffed dummies he could talk to (though she didn't have much of a problem with this part). As she was gone for at least several months, he didn't believe she's real, and she had to adapt to the new reality.

She never got back to the Vault after that as she felt it was a source of more trouble than anything good (in her view, the price was too much for a bunch of physical stuff).

That lasted for years, and became a bit easier as her powers, enhanced by the Eridians, wasn't only serving the destruction,  but could eventually "heal" some part of Shade's mind, so the moments of clarity became more frequent (she didn't know it's the reason, though). And you still need money, whether you like it or not, so, when Shade decided to use his World of Curiosities as a spot of illegal deals and smuggling, she didn't resist, but would watch over him in the shadows in case something goes wrong.

Eventually, she calmed down and just embraced herself. And, after some time, she met Vaughn, whose personal struggles she could sense right away, as she had to experience "being different" herself.

[we-dont-talk-about-potato-nonono]

The new episode of amazing circus was so good. Did you see it?

Gummigoo

this is me to Caine for killing him (but it’s really no surprise Caine did something messed up like that or mybe he doesn’t want to mix up humans and NPCs in the circus)

and this is to Jax for being an asshole to Gangle

Jax, being so rude and disrespectful to Gangle, was definitely uncalled for (still love him tho) Ragatha should really say something to him about it instead of focusing on Pomni all the time (which all I see is toxic positivity) 🤷🏻 LIKE GIRL DO SOMETHING! why are you letting Gangle being yelled at by him 💀 but that’s just Jax being Jax. he’s just some guy playing his part.

(justice for gummigoo!)

[rollingeevee]

Wait if we have the Beasts bites what about Anciens?

Maybe in AU where they also corrupted or smth like that, how would their bites be like? (Ofc u don’t have to answer that im just dumping my ideas here xd)

I actually think I have an ask about Ancients somewhere else in my ask box that I plan to answer soon (they don’t have a bite but they do have smth similar in a way) but you specifically mentioned corrupted Ancients. And that inspired me… SO HAVE A TRUTHLESS RECLUSE X READER ONESHOT! MUAHAHAHA

You can now find part 2 here!

Warnings: A lil suggestive?

“Pure Vanilla, please!” You begged your lover. “Our friends need our help! I don’t understand how you can just sit here and refuse to acknowledge that!”

Pure Vanilla, or Truthless Recluse as he’d renamed himself, remained silent. He stared intently at you, a gaze that used to be so warm and filled with care and life, now reduced to tired, intimidating darkness.

As you pleaded with the one you adored so dearly, fallen to Deceit, his mind swam with thoughts. Shadow Milk had allowed your stay in the Spire with him for a reason yet unknown to you. But the reason was becoming apparent to Pure Vanilla. Shadow Milk knew of the relationship between the two of you, and he knew that with corruption now plaguing the Truthless Recluse’s heart, it would only be a matter of time before the once compassionate Cookie found himself overcome with that Beastly urge to bite. And Shadow Milk, ever the lover of theatrics, wanted to see the once so pure Cookie give into his new, corrupted urges. To embrace the inner Beast that he knew lay dormant within.

He was taken out of his thoughts when you announced that, if he wouldn’t help you, you would find and help the young Cookies on your own. He seemed to snap to life at that declaration.

His arms were around you before you could reach the door, pulling, almost yanking, you back into the depths of the room Shadow Milk had provided for him. You turned to face him with a scowl. “Pure Vanilla, let me go!”

“Stay.” Was his only response, though it was more of a command than anything. His tone had lost the warmth you’d come to know and love from it, replaced by a cool, possessive rumble from deep within his chest that seemed to vibrate your entire body.

Your expression became desperate. “Please, my love…” your voice was quiet and despairing. “Please… let me go… or come with me… I cannot allow Shadow Milk to torment those poor children who have done so much to help you… to help us…”

His grip tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.” He asserted.

“Pure Vanilla-”

“Don’t leave me…” His voice was but a whisper this time, far less oppressive and dominating than his previously issued orders. Almost… vulnerable. You felt a spark of longing familiarity in your heart. You raised your eyes to look into his own. Those tired, beaten eyes shimmered with anguish and a helpless need for your presence. Pure Vanilla was still in there… somewhere… buried deep, surely, but he was there.

With soft eyes, you turned your body to face his and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He nuzzled his face against the top of your head, nose buried in your hair. He sat down upon his bed, dragging you down to straddle his lap so that he could hide his face in the crook of your neck. As he breathed in your scent, the muscles of his body seemed to relax. It was another glimpse of the Pure Vanilla you knew and loved, further solidifying your belief that the Cookie you adored still existed amongst the corruption. But your focus on this caused you to fail to catch the feeling of his lips twitching against your dough.

What little was left of Pure Vanilla in the corrupted cookie urged him to stay calm. To resist. But Truthless Recluse could no longer fight the urge to bare his new fangs…

You heard your lover suck in a breath through his parting teeth. His body was tense again, now feeling akin to a predator poised to strike. Before you could figure out what was about to happen, he sank them into your soft dough with a hiss. You cried out as the area was flooded with a chilling cold that quickly spread throughout your body like a potent venom. You felt him exhale through his nose in what seemed like relief, the urge that had been gnawing at him since he fell into Deceit finally sated. You weakly whined as he swiped his tongue across the fresh mark that seemed to pulse with magic, unable to move as he pulled you so close that there was no longer any space between your bodies.

“All mine…”

[deliwrites]

𝔹𝕒𝕥𝕙 ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 // Huntr/x

// DATE // 26th of June 2025 → 27th of June 2025 // PAIRING // FemHuntr/x!Reader x Baby Saja, Rumi x Jinu, Zoey x Mystery, Abby x Mira x Romance // WARNING // Fluff, suggestive, vulnerability, girlfriends being girlfriends // WORDS // 2.8k+ // SUMMARY // Bonus chapter to Revenge, where Huntr/x finally go to the bath house together! If you have not read Revenge, you should or else this won't make much sense xD

// Main Story // Bonus Chapters //

It was weird being back in Huntr/x tower. I mean permanently. Somehow the public didn’t remember anything of what happened at Namsan tower. The last thing they remember was the public fall out of Huntr/x.

Thankfully that was easily covered up. It became a story of how this was all for show. Me ‘leaving’, them fighting. A publicity stunt to show growth and accepting peoples differences.

This story solidified when we released the song ‘what it sounds like’. People wanted not to like it, but so far it’s been our best selling song. Going Platinum within 12 hours.

We had just come back home from our first comeback performance.

“Food, food, food!” I chant once the front door opened. Mira happily joining me as we skip to the kitchen. The stack of empty ramyeon long gone. Opening the snack drawer, I squeal when I find a new bag of strawberry KitKats. “Yesss.”

“Honest, I don’t know how you eat those,” Rumi says, walking behind me to the fridge.

“Well you just don’t know what heaven tastes like,” I stick my tongue out at her while she smirks playfully. Grabbing a soda, she tosses it at me which I barely manage to catch. Taking three more before closing the fridge. “What so you throw mine, but you’ll be nice to Mira and Zoey?” I ask in mock offense to which she nods with a wide grin.

Walking to Mira she hands her a soda. Mira takes it mumbling a thanks while she continues to stack more snacks into her arms.

“Don’t worry Y/n,” Zoey comes up to me. “I love them just as much as you,” holding up her own bag of the same KitKats. She turns to Rumi, sticking her tongue out at her even more aggressively than I had. A giggle leaving my lips.

Flopping onto the fluffy couch in my bathrobe, I sigh with delight.

“It’s so nice to just sit,” my words dragged out through a contented groan.

“Ah, yeeaaah,” Rumi agrees, sitting down beside me. Leaning against me gently. Leaning my head against hers, we close our eyes, just enjoying the moment of closeness.

Missing the way Zoey and Mira smirk at each other as they too, sit down on couch.

“You know what's an even better place to relax?” Mira ask, my eyes pop open, I meet Mira’s gaze. Content smiles faltering, dreading what the answer will be. Her eyes flick to Zoey, causing me to do the same.

“The bath house!” Zoey announces overjoyed. My head turns just enough for me to look at Rumi. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch both Zoey and Mira sat on the edge of the couch. Looking at us, their eyes shimmering, barely containing their hope and excitement.

Rumi and I had never been. Ever. We were never allowed. I didn’t dare even if I were to go solo.

“I-”

“Rumi, you promised!” Zoey pouts, pointing a finger at her accusingly.

“When did you promise that!?” my confusion loud as I fully pull away to look at my sister. She grimaces awkwardly.

“Of course you had to remember that,” she whines, think it over for a second before sighing in defeat. “I said I would go the day before the International Idol Awards.”

“Ah,” I say and shrug, a smug tugging at my lips. “Well, I didn’t, so-”

“No, you gotta give it a try!” Mira cuts me off, giving me a pointed look.

Taking a deep breath, I sag my shoulders before giving in. “Ugh, fine.”

“Yes!” Zoey fist pumps the air.

Now that the Saja Boys had their own phones. I had called Baby in a panic. With him I never had to think about it. But going to a bath house.

Well shit.

“But- but-,” I started stutter, pacing my room. Eyes scanning my reflection in the windows. “What if- what if they stare?” my voice barely a whisper.

“Darling,” the voice sounded so close. Looking down at my phone the call is still going. What.

I don’t have time to turn around before hands smoothly circle my waist. Baby leaning over my shoulder, biting my mark playfully. “Want me to show you just how gorgeous you are? Hmm?” his voice is sinfully deep. My eyes meet his, he’s devouring me already, with just his gaze. A delightful shiver runs down my spine, nodding.

Walking into the establishment I stayed behind them. Still feeling unsure about it all. Eucalyptus hung in the air. The warmth in just the front room would normally comfort me. But now it only made me more nervous. Rumi seemed a lot more confident about all this. I hoped it her confidence in all this would help, but it didn’t.

Zoey spoke to the woman at the front desk but I didn’t pay much attention. My eyes flicking around the room. The windows are covered in a frosted window film, allowing in just enough natural light to make the white tile floor glow. Like they led straight to heaven.

Instead they lead to my nightmare.

Mentally shaking my head, I focus on something else. The wall to my right has vertical wooden slabs as an accent. Holding white horizontal shelves. The shelves neatly stocked with spa products. Lotions, scrubs and soaps.

“Would you like to add any services today?” the woman asks while Zoey grabs my attention. Placing a bracelet around my wrist which holds a key.

“Not right now, thank you,” Zoey answers politely.

“Alright, the baths and changing rooms are through that door,” she points to our right at a modern dark stained wooden door with a black frame. “Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, press the service bell in any of the rooms or come back to the desk.”

“Gamsahamnida,” with that, Mira and Zoey pull Rumi and me to the door. My heart hammers in my chest. Entering the locker room, there are a couple of other woman there. All seem to be nearly ready to enter the baths. I evade their gaze and focus on finding my locker.

Sipsam

Discomfort rolls over my shoulders. Of course it has to be unlucky number 13. Reluctantly, I open the locker. There’s nothing odd about it, but it doesn’t stop another shiver from running down my spine.

I just stare at the empty locker for a moment, trying to slow down my racing heart.

“Hey, you okay,” Rumi appears beside me, worry lacing her voice. I nod with fake certainty, slipping my jacket off and hanging it on the hook on inside of the locker door. She returns to her own locker and continues undressing.

My eyes locate Zoey who is undressing herself with a sway in her hips like she’s listening to music. Mira on the other hand is struggling with unlacing her boots. The other women don’t seem to be here anymore which allows me to take a breath of relief.

“I can do this,” I mutter quietly to myself, nodding like the motion alone will hold me together. Toeing off my sneakers, I take a seat on the wooden bench behind me. Taking my socks off I stuff them in my shoes before I place them inside the locker.

Finding the hem of my shirt, I pause. I wore Baby’s shirt, it was big hiding my frame underneath. He almost didn’t let me keep it last night. But in the end he did cause he knew it gave me comfort even if it only could up to this point.

Letting go of the hem, I opt for taking off my jeans first. Folding it neatly, taking my time. My eyes land on my patterns. While I luckily wasn’t entire iridescent anymore. Hadn’t since like 3 days after they had taken me and Baby home. The patterns were still there, darker than Rumi’s. They didn’t necessarily make me feel ugly. They just made it seem more like scars. And in some lighting Rumi’s were nearly invisible. Mine felt always on display, even if tried to hide them by wearing long jeans and turtle necks. They always peak out somewhere.

“You nearly ready, Y/n/n,” Zoey asks, startling me.

“Yeah, just go ahead.”

“You sure? We can wait, you know?” Mira’s voice laces with concern.

“Yes, I’m sure, I’ll be right there.”

“Alright, just come find us,” Zoey says. “We’ll be at the baths in room Sam,” soon after the door closes after them and I take a deep breath.

“Come on, Y/n,” I scold myself. Practically ripping Baby’s shirt off of me. I hold it in front of me like it did me dirty. My gaze softens, bringing it to my chest I take a big whiff. Nodding I fold the shirt, placing it on top of my jeans. Then placing the stack on the shelf inside the locker.

Getting up from the bench, I take my panties and bra off quicker than I ever have. Stuffing the items in the locker, I close it.

“Gaja,” I tell myself. My heart doesn’t slow but I go ahead anyway. I keep my eyes focused on head height. My gaze never lowering as I leave the locker room.

I can hear soft murmurs of people conversing with each other as I walk through the hall. The steam engulfing me in warmth. I’m thankful that the numbers are placed at head height. Mumbling the numbers as I pass by them. When I reach room 3, it doesn’t open at first, which confuses me.

“What? But they said room 3,” I mutter, trying again. Panic starts to rise. The murmurs from before feeling like they grow louder. Closing in. I look around me frantically but don’t take anything in. Trying the door again, this time with both hands but it still doesn’t open.

“Y/n?” I jump at the voice, letting go of the door to cover myself up with my hands. “Hey, hey,” the voice is gentle, a hand carefully being placed on my shoulder. Finally realizing it’s Rumi. She doesn’t say anything else, just holds her key in front of a sensor and the door clicks open with a happy chime. Gently, she ushers me into the room, closing the door behind us.

If Zoey and Mira heard the way I came in, they don’t mention it. Not that my eyes focus enough to even realize where they are. Rumi takes me to the showers and tells me to sit down.

It takes a while of Rumi using the shower head to rinse me down for me to actually calm down enough and notice my surroundings.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, staring down at the tile flooring. The tension in my shoulders doesn’t let up and I keep myself small.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Rumi sit down on the stool next to me. Facing me. “I get it,” my eyes meet hers, searching for that connection.

“I just-“ she shakes her head cutting me off.

“It’s okay, it’s just the four of us in here,” that relaxes me a lot. Zoey had booked us a private room. “Here, I got a new scrub, that’s why I was out in the hall,” she answers a question I was curious about but hadn’t asked. Sitting up straight the two of us take our time, scrubbing down.

“Thank you,” I mumble, squeezing her hand as we get up and walk behind a tiled wall where the bath is located. She just squeezes my hand right back in reassurance.

“There you’re,” Mira says without opening her eyes.

“Sor-“ Rumi pinches my arm to stop me from apologizing again. She gets into the hot water, sinking in to just below our shoulders.

“Ah! Wow, this feels amazing,” a content sigh leaving Rumi’s lips. And I can’t lie, just dipping in my toes has me physically relax.

“We’ve been saying that for years,” Mira drags, smirk playing on her lips.

“Right? See what you’ve been missing?” Zoey's eyes open half lidded. Meeting mine as I still lower myself down, closing my eyes at the warmth. “I didn’t know you were this kinky, Y/n,” her tease causing my eyes to snap right back open. All three of them wearing a smirk. Mira's eyes go from my face to my left shoulder. Following her line of sight, my eyes land on a very dark hickey. Memories of last night flash through my head. I can still feel Baby’s lips all over my body, with watchful sultry eyes. Taking in my body like I was his most prized possession. Complimenting me with every peck, every bite and every hickey.

Making me instantly aware of all the marks scattered across my skin. Covering my chest as best I can with my hands - not that it helped. If anything it showed even more marks. Sinking even lower into the water. A blush covering my cheeks. Guess I should have been more worried about those than my patterns.

“I was nervous-“

“No shit,” Mira cuts me off playfully. I stick my tongue out at her.

“So,” I puff up my shoulders in confidence. “Baby showed me I shouldn’t be ashamed and that I’m gorgeous,” I confess though the blush quickly returns.

“Possessive and sweet? Ugh, disgusting. I love it!” Zoey sighs like she’s thinking of her own relationship with Mystery. And apparently I can read minds now. “Mystery is surprisingly gentle. I bet you get best of both worlds, Mira.”

She says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and I blink. When I glance at Rumi, she’s already looking at me - eyebrows raised, same quiet shock mirrored in her expression.

“You could say that,” what is happening? We never talked about this stuff! I guess we had always been too focused on hunting demons to ever consider being in a relationship. “Romance is the possessive one out of the two. Abby is gentle but won’t hesitate to put me in positions I never thought possible,” Mira doesn’t open her eyes, just keeps talking. “So yes, I do get best of both worlds,” a smirk on her lips.

“Question,” Zoey sits up straight. “Is it weird that my mating mark is on the back of my neck? I mean, you guys have yours a lot more visible,” she points at me and Rumi.

“Could be due to the position you guys were in when you two mated,” Rumi shrugs casually. “Mine wasn’t, but Jinu said he wanted it there. He places a kiss there, at least once a day. Multiple if we didn’t see each other for a while,” her fingers gently glide over the holographic bitemark. Located just below her left ear.

“That’s adorable,” Mira sits up, leaning towards me, raising her left hip just out of the water. “This one’s Abby, and Romance has an identical one on my right hip,” she says before relaxing again. “They had apparently had a heated discussion about it the day before. Abby wanted it to be modest and Romance wanted it to be on show. And settled for this cause they can just pinch my hips whenever they wanna tease me.”

“I never asked actually,” I admit, my fingers subconsciously brushing the spot on my right side, where his mark sits - nestled at the curve of my neck and shoulder.

“You tend to touch it a lot,” Rumi points out. “Maybe he did it for you?”

“That would be so sweet,” Zoey adds. “Does it bring you comfort when you touch it?”

“It does,” a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Though I know he likes it too. He tends to bite it, usually as ‘punishment’. But I’ll ask, cause now I wanna know for sure.”

“Same,” the words drag as Zoey finally relaxes again eyes closing. The room going silent. All of us relaxing like we very much deserved. The only sound our collective breathing. Slow and steady.

“Y/n, I’m so happy you didn’t, like, die,” Zoey’s voice is sudden. Almost startling.

“Wow, Zoey, way to be super literal,” Mira responds monotone. “But same,” a grin tugging at her lips.

“No, we’re not doing that,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I’m not-” I can’t continue because Zoey’s eyes are glassy. Mira’s biting her cheek like she’s holding herself together by habit. And Rumi… Rumi’s already crying.

“I just… you guys just mean so much to me, and I don’t really know what I’d do without you,” Zoey’s voice cracks, thick with emotions she can’t hold back anymore. The tears come fast, and once they start, there’s no stopping them.

It turns into a messy, breathless ramble — the four of us spilling over each other, saying how much we love each other, how scared we were. I tell them how terrified I was.

Both times.

Until there’s nothing left to say. Just the sound of soft crying, of water shifting as we lean into each other, letting it all fall out. For a moment, we don’t have to be strong. We just have to be together.

// Main Story // Bonus Chapters //

[archangeldyke-all]

imagine isha doing that thing that mute kids sometimes do, where they suddenly say a word/sentence or two out loud n then go back to being completely mute for a few years. imagine you’re tucking her in like “ily isha, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and she goes “ok. goodnight. mac & cheese.” and you never hear her talk again

also i love your writing 🩷🩷

this is so fucking funny god

men and minors dni

jinx has always claimed that isha speaks to her on occasion. you and sevika are always skeptical. a lot of isha's squeaks can sound like words-- and jinx tends to hear voices that aren't really there more than most people.

it takes a year of living together before one of you catches it in person.

sevika runs into the kitchen so fast she almost knocks over a chair. "babe, babe!" she says with a giddy smile. you giggle.

"what?"

"isha-- she just talked!" sevika laughs. "she doesn't know i heard her-- she was puttin' her socks on and her toe popped out of a hole, and she went; 'awe fuck!'" sevika imitates.

you burst into laughter. "are you sure?! you didn't just mishear one of her little grunts?"

"babe, i know what i heard. i read about this, y'know. sometimes, mute kids just randomly talk. and jinx said she's heard it before! i guess... i guess she really liked those socks!" sevika cackles. "you shoulda heard her little voice cursin' baby, oh my god!" sevika can't stop laughing.

for a long time, you don't quite believe her story. you're sure your wife thought she heard your kid curse, but you aren't convinced that isha can talk at all.

until she talks to you.

almost two years after sevika claims she hears isha talk, you're tucking her into bed like any other night. isha's pointing out various poisonous frog species to you in her favorite 'dangerous animals' book, and you're playing with her hair, kissing her head occasionally.

"if i was a poision dart frog, i think i'd be pink and purple. what about you?"

isha taps her chin while she considers your question, then signs with a smile. blue and yellow! you laugh. of course she'd pick her favorite colors.

"nice. what do you think jinx and big mama would be?"

jinxie is blue and purple and big mama is green!

"you've got it all figured out, huh?"

isha nods with a yawn. you chuckle.

"alright-- i think it's bedtime. c'mon, get comfy." isha hands her book to you and crawls under her covers. when she settles, she scrunches her face just a bit and lets out a fart. you giggle. "got your dutch oven going, huh?" you ask. she laughs.

"do frogs fart?" isha asks.

you freeze, staring at isha as she blinks up at you with big eyes, waiting for an answer. "wh-- did you--"

do they? she signs.

you burst into laughter and pull isha into your arms. "i have no idea!" you laugh. "oh my god!" isha giggles in your arms, confused by your reaction but enjoying the barrage of kisses you're giving her regardless. "i love you so much you silly little girl."

isha gets sick of your cuddles, elbowing you and signing. look it up on your phone! she whines. you cackle.

"okay, okay!" you laugh as you pull out your phone to google isha's question.

sevika and jinx are never going to believe this.

or... maybe they will.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

[stychu-stych]

Hi, sorry if you have already answered this, I'm new to your blog. Why did Lamb decide to Narinder back? How long was he dead? What's the au called?

Hiii, welcome at my blog, I hope you'll like it here✨

Hmmmm unhealthy addiction I could say. Narinder became very close to Lamb after all those years. Lamb were scared of him at the beginning, thinking that Narinder is like the rest of the Bishops, but as the time passed they started to idealize him and be fully devoted to TOWW. They were sure that Narinder was unfairly hurted and they wanted justice

They were sure that after defeating the rest of the Bishops, Narinder will finally be free and Lamb will stand at his side as his disciple. But when that moment came Lamb leaned, that it'll be impossible. The crown wasn't just given to them so they can gain its power, the crown brought back them to life. They were literally an experiment that Narinder didn't know if it'll work, but because almost none of his followers left anymore he was desperate to try with someone who didn't even worship him (at the beginning at least). He didn't even try to save Lamb, not because he didn't care for them, but because he knew that sacrifice of his the most loyal follower would give him huge boost of power that he needed at that time. He couldn't just risk loosing such a great power source by trying to keep Lamb alive. He didn't even know if it was possible to save them, so the cold calculation won - Lamb sacrificing themselves was the best option

Lamb felt betrayed of course, there were furious, hurt and devastated. After the battle they wanted to kill Narinder so much, they already killed the rest of the Bishops, what's the difference between one more. But they couldn't do that, they still worship him in some fucked up way they couldn't understand. They hated him and wanted to be close to him at the same time. That's why they decided to bring Narinder to live when they figured out that option exist. And it didn't take too long for them to prepare the ritual, they just wanted enough time so some of the cult members could forget what happened

So basically Lamb couldn't let go of their relationship with his toxic boyfriend, the end JDBDJDHD And the au is just called "modern au" (because calling this toxic yaoi might be too much xD), you can find more stuff under that hashtag here on my blog, I always try to put those hashtags under anything related to this au

[eddiazx]

axe me out, already - eddie diaz x reader

Based on this request: Can we get some pre-relationship jealous Eddie? His feelings are obvious but he still hasn't made a move. The team is all hanging out somewhere and reader is being hit on and poor Eddie is glaring daggers at the guy who had the nerve to chat her up XD. The 118 tease him and tell him to just go tell her how he feels.Reader was aware of his feelings and was giving him some time. She's noticed his behavior though and decided she's done waiting, so she goes back over to where everyone is and plants a kiss on him and tells him to stop pouting and take her on a date already

"Really, Cap? Axe throwing?" Chim asks, popping his gum as the entire 118 observes the activity room on a random Friday night.

"What? I thought it would be a good team building exercise." Bobby grins.

"Bobby, we deal with axes practically every day." Hen laughs, but picks up the tool anyways, feeling the weight of it in her hands.

Buck and Ravi already starts throwing them, bickering about each other's techniques. Eddie however, is fixated on you. Specifically, you and the worker of the place, who had been standing a little too close to you, showing you the proper way to stand and throw the axe. You currently had your head tipped back, laughing at whatever the man was saying. Eddie sees red as the man places his hands on your waist, urging you to face the target with your non-dominant foot forward.

"You're glaring." Bobby chuckles at Eddie, amused.

"What? No I'm not." Eddie covers up unconvincingly.

"You were glaring." Chim and Hen chime in.

"Why do I hang out with you guys?" Eddie bemoans.

"We're the only people that tolerate your lovesick pining." Chim answers automatically.

Eddie shoots Chim a look, but he doesn't refute it. Eddie has had feelings for you for so long, but he has yet to muster up the courage to ask you out. He's scared of things being different at work; scared of screwing up the group dynamic. Watching people flirt with you might be scarier though.

Eddie goes into his own lane, picks up an axe and throws it. He watches as it hits the bulls-eye, and he can't even conjure up any excitement because of the jealousy invading his thoughts. Before he retrieves the axe, he hears your low whistle from behind him.

"Damn, Diaz." You congratulate him, smirk present on your face.

Eddie laughs, the tips of his ears flushing pink at your appraisal. "I'm sure you're no slouch. I saw Clay over there teach you some tricks."

"His name is Trey." You correct, giggling.

"Whatever." Eddie grumbles, turning back towards the target. Before he could get away from you, he feels you tug on his arm to make him face you.

He isn't given time to react before he can feel lips on his.

You're... kissing him?

Eddie doesn't hear anything other than your satisfied hum, and the sound of his own heart beat in his ears. He recovers relatively quickly, tilting his face sideways and holding onto the sides of your head to deepen the kiss.

When the two of you eventually pull away, you laugh at Eddie's dazed expression. "By the way, I'm not Trey's type - you are. Next time, just ask me out instead of moping around in envy."

"...Noted."