#or something like that anyway

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Delightful Distraction

A genderswapped FluffyNight drabble to celebrate reaching 300 followers! This was briefly looked over & written in two sittings! Happy reading!

Ccino hums quietly to the music that's playing in the otherwise quiet café & picks up the dirty dishes of the table that had just left, leaving the building free of customers for the time being.

Carrying the plates carefully with both hands, she walks into the back where the kitchen is & deposits the dirty dishes into the sink, already filled with plates from earlier in the day.

Ccino debates with herself for a moment before grabbing a pair of dish washing gloves from nearby & slipping them on. She might as well take advantage of the lack of customers & get a head start on washing up.

Scrubbing away at a dirty cup, Ccino's unaware of a presence approaching her from behind until there are suddenly arms wrapped around her waist, causing her to jump & tighten her grip on the mug in her hand in surprise.

Looking over her shoulder, Ccino glares at the grinning face behind her, huffing in annoyance. "Was that really necessary?" Nightmare lets out a quiet chuckle as she tightens her hold around Ccino, resting her head on the other's shoulder.

"No, but it was funny." She mumbles softly in response to the question, pressing a soft kiss against Ccino's neck in apology. "Will you ever find it in yourself to forgive me?"

Ccino rolls her eyelights & sighs with a shake of her skull, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she turns back to face the sink. "I don't know, what will you do to make it up to me?"

Nightmare hums as she thinks, grin softening into a smile as she tries to come up with a satisfying reply. "I could always make dinner for us tonight?"

Ccino stands straight & pulls away from Nightmare's hold slightly to look at her, a look of panic on her face as she frantically tries to backtrack. "N-No, it's fine! No further apology needed, I'm good!"

Nightmare huffs with a pout, reluctantly pulling away & taking a step back from the other. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

Ccino pauses to take off the gloves she's wearing before turning to face Nightmare fully. "Honey, you know I love you," she takes the other's hands into hers, squeezing them softly as she meets Nightmare's gaze & continues speaking, "but your cooking could use some work."

Nightmare frowns as if she's upset, but shrugs after a moment as a smile forms on her face again. "Yeah, that's fair." She squeezes Ccino's hands in return, leaning in & pressing a chaste kiss against the other's teeth.

Ccino hums as she goes to kiss Nightmare again, unsatisfied with how short the last one was, only to jump at the sound of the bell hanging in front of the door ringing & signaling the presence of a customer.

She pulls away in a panic, adjusting her apron with a light blush on her face as she walks away from Nightmare & back out to the actual café area, calling out to the customer. "Just a moment!"

Nightmare watches as Ccino walks away with a pout, tentacles drooping in disappointment as she hears her begin to take the customer's order. She had hoped to have Ccino's attention for longer, but that clearly wasn't going to happen.

Nightmare looks over at the dirty dishes that she had distracted Ccino from, sighing & grabbing the gloves that the other had been using. She may as well help her darling out a little since she had distracted her.

[hepilsketches]

a minute of (body)positivity with jeeko

okay guys, this November is clearly trying to kill me :') It's challenging enough to simply open my eyes in the morning, let alone make myself to sketch stuff.

I kinda promised you shirtless dudes, but... my brain chemistry kinda had another plans. Sorry? There will be shirtless dudes! ... I guess. Sooner. Or later. If I manage to survive until next year.

...Anyways, in this situation I needed to draw something really, really motivating!

And it's me, so.... yup.

Sorry, Zuko, I had to do it to your face. At least I'm sorry, unlike your father

Also, remind me to never again try and draw complex poses with interactions without a reference.

----

A typical romance writer: "He was the hottest man she had ever seen in her life! His chiseled body was that of Adonis, his face was so ridiculously handsome that..." Me: That's nice and all, but can I read about someone loving a real human being instead of a plastic sex android, please? Or can we at least don't throw out into the window an interesting unique haircut a ridiculously handsome guy had in the freaking canon? Thank you.

[monotone-artist]

the son boy brain rot has returned

[id: a couple sketches of finn the human from adventure time. in the first sketch, he's sitting with his legs stretched out, glancing off to the side, his eyebrows raised. in the second, he's crouched on some grass and looking curiously down at a frog wearing a little top hat. the frog is motioning toward some items on a blanket: a couple mushrooms, a coin, and a pebble. it's like a little shop. end id]

[validtrollnames]

martin septim (elder scrolls oblivion) is a valid troll name

.

[acespeon]

me: remembers my own PTSD

also me: looks at 03 Leo and Usagi

[shadow-pixelle]

Sometimes you just wanna write things but instead end up emptying the dishwasher while contemplating how sign language would work in the Pokemon world with regional variants and stuff.

[unsung-idiot]

don't show him modern technology; it won't end well

bonus under the cut:

[dyke-ass-fujoshi]

How I found out about trump getting shot

[liquidstar]

If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)

At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.

Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.

[beebfreeb]

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[stemmmm]

more people gotta try this shit where bill has not improved and will not change but he's just chilling so its fine probably. its great

[the-maw-consumes]

do you think it'll let up soon?

static version:

[officialspec]

heres most of the notes i have for brisbane meshi. i could draw this forever probably

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.