#i'll leave no crumbs

[saurile]

What if i cried and bawled and hiccuped the whole night away. What then.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[another-goblin]

It's his penance for comparing Aventurine to a peacock.

Bonus:

[andyling]

we’re so starved for team rancher crumbs that the universe is forcing them to interact (yes this is about the nether portals syncing up I CANNOT GET OVER THAT I NEARLY FUCKING SCREAMED WHEN I REALIZED WHERE TANGO WAS)

[theophagie]

Range of possible readings implied in a singular piece of merch of a dynamic not yet explored or even particularly indirectly touched upon onscreen got me feeling

[majortomwaits]

WE GOT A CROW YOU GUYS, WE GOT A FUCKIGN CROW ON THE BALCONY

[skybrightpixie]

in my attempt to celebrate the winter season i've been almost OBSESSIVELY writing stuff for my new pony oc, Peppermint. she's an incredibly intelligent and curious crystal pony—if not a little... cold—who's known as an inventor. she earned her cutie mark by creating a potion that enhanced the love and light within a pony, but she's never been able to recreate this potion since then because the pony she had feelings for at the time moved away to realize their own future.

she would spend many years afterwards studying. however, in her pursuit to recreate this potion, she's studied the innate magical abilities of crystal ponies and has gone off the deep end. in her solitude, she's harnessed the power of love and light to the fullest extent that she can manage to one day take revenge upon (and maybe impress?) the love of her life who moved away when she was a filly and left her alone.

she is. maybe a little obsessive about it. maybe she's a little toxic. but shush.

[hypocriticalspicewrites]

Hey... So like... If yall wanna leave me some asks, the letter box is open..~ 👀 you know for asks, and headcanons, n' stuff..~

[choccorin]

just finished the last two movies of free! .. i feel incredibly empty now

[cosmicangsts]

just wanted to thank you all for the support on this blog and the way i've been welcomed back into rpc as a whole after years and years of being away, epecially from writing doctor who. the fifth doctor is my doctor and is especially important to me, so seeing the support for me writing him has been FANTASTIC! you guys are the greatest and i enjoy writing / can't wait to write with all of you! and everyone's blogs are so beautiful too, i never thought i'd learn how to use caard LMAO. don't ever be afraid to holler at me if you want to write <3

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

don't want to declare victory for the war on ants quite yet but i think i did win a battle...

[noxianwilled]

i have to be on pc to properly comment later but: i think captain's what's his name repeated attempts to just make sure Kat doesn't get back to noxus pretty much comfirm further there's something else at play. if it's really lb, whatever she's planning doesn't seem to include katarina asking swain any questions (which makes sense tbh). kat thinking she might kill swain is funny though. baby girl doesn't know how far out of her league she is yet lmao

[heich0e]

well if u die thats gonna be an end on my x reader days im gonna mourn u nd hope ur in a better place tho 😭

it is so unbelievably generous of you to think i'm going to a better place after i die. incredibly misguided, but still very kind.

[this-is-snekky]

Dont know what cult of the lamb is but I am EATING up this design and leaving no crumbs.

In fact, before the art below, the first Pure Vanilla sketch in a long time was this crossover that I no longer remember how it came about. Silly circus cultist.

[yourubersawcrit]

🧀

Woh! Cheese? :3

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)