#i love him so much wow

[aimfor-theheart]

my cicicielo💛 for your writing game: western au + vash pls? :3

amira you love me fr for giving me this one!!!! <3333 THANK YOU!!!

western au

vash x reader

cw: none...soft....lil touch of angst....

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a sea of endless green, the hills rolling as far as you can see, meeting the mountains somewhere in the distance like old friends. the sun is a honey melt in the sky, ripening to a deep blue. the flowers, bursts of red and pink and orange and white, scatter over the fields before you.

a figure in the distance. silhouetted against the setting sun. standing there, lonesome against the sky.

you'd know the slope of his shoulders anywhere.

"vash!" you crow to the heavens happily, a bird crying out. "vash the stampede!"

that figure turns, but you're already running for him, running down the slopes and bends of the earth and towards him.

and he runs for you, too. shouting your name into the sky.

when you collide, its like reckless stars.

he laughs as he catches you, as he turns to take the brunt of the fall, arms around you tight and secure. with all the momentum, you both roll over each other a few times in the flowers, down the slope of the hill.

when you both finally still, you're on top of him again, still laughing. you pick yourself up, hands flattening against his stomach to lift yourself up. your legs are straddled on either side of his waist.

when your giggles subside, you're left looking at each other, breathing hard. petals caught in his hair, his hat missing somewhere, shirt a little open underneath your hands.

"hey, cowboy," you say slowly, taking him in like you can't believe it's really him, breathless with your excitement, aching with your joy. you breathe it through your smile;

"you came back."

"heya, cowgirl," he says back and his hands twitch, reaching up to pluck petals from your own hair, to take you in, too, "course i came back—i told'ya i would."

his smile is wide and brimming, but you can see that touch of sadness in his eyes—that creeping melancholy, like it's own vine that overtakes and chokes out the flowers of his happiness. you touch at the corner of his eyes as if to chase it away.

"i wasn't sure you'd make it back to me." you admit, smile waning.

he reaches up and covers your hand with his. catches it. presses his lips to your open palm in a reverent kiss. his brow furrows for just a moment.

"i did my best." he says, "i made you a promise."

you pull your hand away to fist both in the front of his shirt. "almost makes up for how you left me, vash the stampede—damn criminal that you are."

he smiles sheepishly, "i am sorry, sweetheart, i knew you'd be mad—"

"damn right i was!" you say, shaking him a little, baring your teeth.

but then you take him in again, underneath you. alive and breathing. heart kicking beneath your hands, beneath all those scars and wounds. back in your life like he'd never left. back on these hills and under the same sky. tears prick your eyes.

you could cry having him back—it's like a dream you thought you'd never have again.

"you better not ever do that to me again—" you say, voice breaking, trying to be angry and tough but so, so lovesick, "you hear me, vash?"

"loud and clear," he says, his starry eyes suddenly welling with their own tears, smiling fond and soft at your anger that isn't really anger at all. he swallows around it all, "i got a lifetime to make up for it, huh?"

you grip the front of his shirt, hauling him up to you, and he yelps a little, laughing.

"you better, cowboy."

he kisses you hard, kisses you desperate and sorry and aching. his hands, one cool and metal, and the other warm and flesh, all over you suddenly. around you. hitching you tighter to him, mouth warm and soft and stubble scraping up against your lips like it had so long ago.

when you pull away, breathless, he says, "let me start now," and suddenly rolls you onto your back in a field of flowers. the sun sinks in the sky, bruising blue and soft, stars winking to life above you both. the moon's curve is a soft smile, shining down on a lovelorn earth.

"let me show you how sorry i really am, cowgirl."

when he kisses you again, you taste the curve of his smile, and yours fits against it like an old, worn key coming up against it's homelock.

in another universe writing game!

[tangledinink]

The prettiest of boys :3

I was so happy to be drawing Raph in all the pink fluffies, but he be hard to draw TwT

(The set is almost complete!)

OH MY GOODNESS

THE PRETTIEST OF BOYS <3

[lotus-pear]

charm stat at debonair ‼️‼️

[astrobolical]

Okay.

As much as I love feral Satan, who lets his instincts run wild and growls, bites and everything else… his soft side is so fuckin’ cute.

The Satan that stares at you in confusion as you tend to a small cut on his hand he’d received on one of his rampages, unbothered by the mess around the two of you and concerned solely with him. How he doesn’t quite know why his chest feels so warm and tight as he looks at your gentle, concerned expression.

Satan, who doesn’t understand why he feels so weightless with you, why his heart flutters and why he wants to hold you so gently, as if cradling something precious.

Satan, whose anger fades just from your presence alone, overtaken with feelings he’s never experienced, that baffle him entirely but he can’t get enough.

Satan, who desperately throws himself into research just to understand you a little more, to put a name on how he feels about you— who’s just as afraid of his own feelings as he is elated by them.

Satan, who worries you’ll be frightened of him if his temper rises, but you never are, even when he tells you that you should be.

Satan, who lays beside you, watching your sleeping face and utterly baffled that you trust him so completely to allow him to see you in such a vulnerable state… who knows deep down he’ll protect you forever.

Satan, who fumbles each time he tries to explain any of this to you, whose face becomes adorably reddened with each failed attempt.

Satan, who realizes that you’ve accepted him entirely, his every fault, his everything, before he had even come close to accepting himself. Who loves you more than he could ever put to words, or that he could ever really comprehend.

Just him. You know? Ahh, just helping him come to terms with everything he doesn’t know, to grow and understand. Helping him, in the end, to love.

[bivampir]

it's SO funny that when asked what he had to do to prepare for his role in IWTV Sam Reid says he had to learn how to play the piano, learn to speak French, Italian, and English with a French accent. Bailey read IWTV religiously and added her own comments, and kept an actual fucking journal she wrote entirely as Claudia. meanwhile Jacob Anderson, when asked the same question, just responds with “oh nothing, i was already emo”. icons and legends only

[bitesizedbrit]

Thank you Jesus for everything

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[hatsunevita]

this is literally one of my favorite panels of the war arc.

i am OBSESSED with deku’s perception of romance and how it’s probably based off popular melodramas and his peers’ stories about their dates.

because you can’t argue with me that that’s the reason why he will have no idea his and katsuki’s relationship is so close to romantic. i’m so sure he’s gonna be the last one to realise his feelings for katsuki aren’t purely friendly and platonic. the guy will be like “oh yeah we’re really close and i care about him deeply and i hate the very thought of him being hurt and i wanna spend the rest of my life next to kacchan but haha that’s just our friendship! we’re not holding hands and sharing crepes so there are no romantic feelings involved🥰”

bro is gonna be so shocked when kacchan finally confesses his true feelings.

[takebitchi]

Mm-mm, baby. He holds your face as you lick up the shaft of his cock, helping you fit the tip back in your mouth again. Why don’t you show me how much yo I can take again, hm baby? He grins at you with lidded, lustful eyes. Wanna properly fuck your little throat before my students return.

-☕️

i nod as i take his cock back into my mouth, wrapping my lips around him and lowering myself until his tip hits the back of my throat. i squeeze my eyes shut, feeling him slot right into my throat, and tears instantly prick at my eyes again. opening them, i look up at him, showing him my submissiveness and that im ready for him to fuck my throat as he pleases

[benevolenterrancy]

(Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett) I think Shang Qinghua and Ponder Stibbons should have tea and compare notes about somehow accumulating so much behind-the-scenes power by doing menial jobs no one else wants that they could basically run the show if they wanted...

meanwhile we have Shen "meh good enough" Qingqiu

[egophiliac]

new chapter 7 installment dropped how we feelin????

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

THAT'S HIS DAD

[camthecatchameleon]

a few days ago my brain demanded i draw polywitchlight RIGHT NOW and who am i to refuse

original and closeups under the cut

original/template is from “Go For It Nakamura!” by Syundei which i have not read actually

+ closeups; feel free to use as icons with credit smile

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.

[sangthael]

don’t fuck with scott pilgrim tiktok we didn’t read the comics or watch the series

[bamboo-bees]

yes, i love my boys

[orengejoshi]

Paperhatober Day 13: Plush

Build-A-Flug(?)