#soon-done

[wuntrum]

ripley :)

[nipuni]

the snake of eden 🥰

[mroddmod]

everyone be quiet i'm manifesting

[yakuzabrainrotlive]

[shotmrmiller]

ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.

soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)

interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?

"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."

soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.

"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.

soap nods. "ah'll be there."

"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."

yeah, he'd hate to have that.

soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.

maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.

"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.

simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"

soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."

the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.

you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."

you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."

your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-

"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"

he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.

"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."

you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.

"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"

[mawguai]

Wound, unwound

[roddysfucignpedes]

hey gang

[dilfslayer1080p]

benrey should look like this more

[lucdoodle]

some more frames from the animatic

[hey-howsitgoin]

So I've had this joke in my head for a couple months (at least), but hadn't found the right spot to make it. Today it is complete.

A hole in my jeans?

Hmm? What's this?

A Patchypus?

REPAIRRY THE PATCHYPUS!!!?!!!

[tsuutarr]

Yandere!Butler x Noble!Reader

Geoffrey has never particularly liked the Master of the House, Duke Arrington. Duke Arrington is what most hate about nobles – pompous and arrogant, but deeply incompetent. Thankfully, The House of Arrington isn’t doomed thanks to you, the heir to the Arrington Duchy.

You’re everything your father isn’t – sensible, witty, intelligent, kind… Why, Geoffrey could spend hours waxing poetic about how wonderful you are. It’s his honor to serve at your side as your right hand butler.

And, like any competent butler, Geoffrey must ensure that you obtain your rightful birthright. So, in the background, Geoffrey works hard with your other admirers to ensure that you can successfully take your father’s place.

As your personal butler, Geoffrey has the best access to your pathetic excuse of a father. This means that it’s quite easy to incorporate little drops of poison into your father’s teas or meals. 

Thanks to Geoffrey’s work, your father has been getting sicker by the day. You’re a dutiful child, so you worry and fret over the pathetic excuse of a parent. This kindness is something Geoffrey loves about you, truly, but he also can’t wait until your father is finally gone and over with, which won’t be much longer judging by how sickly your father has been looking as of late. You’ve taken up more of your father’s work officially because of this, too, and it’s amazing to see you at work. Geoffrey knew that you would be absolutely perfect for this role. It’s riveting to see you so focused on your tasks.

Just like any other day, Geoffrey is preparing tea (not poisoned, of course) for you. From your desk, you observe him, lips drawn in a tight line. “Do you think the House of Arrington is cursed?” you ask, making Geoffrey turn to you curiously.

“My goodness, why would you think that?”

“Just…” Leaning back in your chair, you sigh. “All my younger siblings have died. My step-mother disappeared. My father is dying… It’s all just… a lot, isn’t it?”

You really are too kind, Geoffrey thinks. All of those… misfortunes occurred thanks to him and your other supporters, so you shouldn’t feel bad about it. Your house isn’t cursed – everyone else just deserved to perish so that you could claim your rightful throne. But, you don’t have to know that, really, so Geoffrey says, “How could the Arrington Duchy be cursed when we have you?”

And he means it, truly, because there is no other person that can rule as dutifully as you.

[eddiethehunted]

HELLOOO steddie nation we are so fucking back

[undertalethingems]

Unexpected Guests Chapter Ten, Act Two: Page 20

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I sure hope no one's tired of Undyne being awesome. Because well. She is very much not done with being awesome.

Look for the next update on Aug. 29th!

[crumbsispoggers]

Guardian on a Minecraft hat

[ohno-the-sun]

Hehe hoho kicking my feet like a schoolgirl over this au

@head-in-the-icloud ‘s Royal Jesters au

[lazylittledragon]

ok so i just experienced what i think would be the climax of the film about my breakup

i just went to see neck deep and i was supposed to be going to this show with my ex for my birthday, but i went by myself because i’m not missing it because of him, and i crowdsurfed for the first time ever during the song “heartbreak of the century” and i don’t even feel like i’m real right now