#this was fun to answer lol

[alwaysoutofpaper]

These guys are neat!! Gotta love a pentapod

How easy is it for rausliers to copy our language sounds, and how well can we can copy theirs? Pancake seemed to do it fine in the other drawing, but their syrinx and sideways mouth intrigue me !!

Related question, is Pancake her given name, or a nickname type deal due to a language barrier?

Unrelated question, what are the legal repercussions for harming a rauslier? (would there be any if you did it on accident?) Or vice versa, if one of them committed a crime or did something dangerous, what kinda social/legal consequences would there be?

Having an 'endangered species ' sophont is such a fun idea XD

Thanks for the ask :D

I'll be honest and say I did NOT put the thought I should've into the vocal chords, so they'll probably look different when I learn more about those structures in the future. The basic idea is that they should be able to copy any and all sounds a person can make, aside from doing something like rolling their R's (I think the shape a tongue needs to make for that is too complicated for them to imitate lol)

As for Ch-petta being called "Pancake", it's a nickname from their long distance partner Uken. Contact between them is primarily via text - poorly translated until they learned one another's languages - wherein, upon first message, Uken told Ch-petta its head looked like a pancake. As there wasn't an easy translation of Ch-petta Li into the insectaur language system, they stuck with the more easily translatable Pancake :) It became somewhat of a colloquial nickname after her step father found out about it. She learned to accept that he wouldn't let her live it down, ever.

And for the legal ramifications of harming a Rauslier... It probably depends where they are! On Earth they are afforded the same legal agency and protections as any human is for crimes committed by or against them. Earth holds the highest population of Rausliers, and they are treated mostly like weird human beings with a few more quirks, so the laws are pretty much the same - for now. I will explore this topic more in the future as I figure out interspecies relations :) In space the law depends on which coalition "owns" the section of space they are in, and whether the species is considered protected by that coalition - most agree on the status of Rausliers though, but their populations are very slowly increasing. Crime against a protected sapient species in any part of space will probably land you in space jail for half or more of your lifespan if it cannot be proven it was in self defense. And some places are a little less forgiving over these things. So be careful <3

[pyjamacryptid]

Succession?

Oh boy. Ok. Definitely haven’t seen this one.

It’s a show about terrible white collar people working in some big company super high up that they’ve all got some inheritance or connection to - a family? One is a redhead called “shiv fucking roy” that is Ultimate Girlboss (I’d bet on her if she were in the hunger games). Shiv looks like she’d shank you with a shiv for letting a business deal fall through. Another looks like he could be standing by a service station at 3am with a blunt or cigarette, but will be preaching the right way to breathe with buzzwords but also has got a sugar mama situation going on or something. I don’t know his name. Roman? Ronan? Roderick. Roberto. Bobert. Boman. There’s this lanky guy called Greg that’s connected somehow but isn’t high up UNTIL Matthew Mcfayden as Baby Girl (I’ve never seen the word babygirl so much at once what has he bewitched you all with) becomes Obsessed with him and proposes marriage business partnership. Good for them. I hope they figure it out. There’s not a lot of redeeming qualities to be seen because hey this is a family in the 1% and all white collar classist peeps but it’s also not shying away from the fact that these characters are very human and very real, and weirdly endearing, which is maybe why y’all are like “yes the horrors but have you considered that they’re baby”. There’s a shitty father. I know this because 1. Yes there was a gifset with him mentioned, 2. How can there not be a shitty father at the root of this entire mess. This smells of shifty father. Uhhhhh they’re all trying to get the top dog position of this company their family owns???? It’s musical chairs but for rich people.

LMAO how did I do?

[ test my dashboard osmosis! ]

[marsipain]

Norwegian Mikus :)

Left is Miku as a russ and right is Miku in a bunad!

[phantasmatoucan]

OOPS! ALL SMITTENS!

[sdmsims]

i tried to think of another pun, but i prawndered it too long

dont ask me why this exists <3

requires island living. new mesh by meeeeeeeee [twirls hair]

10 colors, each in 3 variants (solid, rilli, and cherry) for a total of 30 shrimps

custom thumb + disabled for random

if you want your shrimp to be small like in the preview, you'll need to use a special preset! here's my 'super small sim preset' on the house

texture and mesh edits are ok, but don't paywall edits or redistribution of this in any form

DL : SFS (no ads, just pure shrimplicity)

[your-internet-bf]

NSFW asks cuz the other lists are too big or too boring, limit of 3

1. What's your biggest turn-off?

2. What's the largest age gap between you and a sexual partner?

3. Does size really matter?

4. Who was your worst sexual partner?

5. Have you ever faked an orgasm?

6. Where's the riskiest place you've done it?

7. Do you have any unusual fetishes?

8. Have you ever been caught in the act?

9. What do you like least and like most about your body?

10. What do you like least and like most about your personality?

11. What's the craziest thing you've done to attract someone's attention?

12. When's the last time you were flat-out rejected and how did you handle it?

13. What's your biggest sexual fear?

14. What's the most flirtatious thing you've ever done?

15. If one wish could come true right now, what would it be?

16. What's the strangest thing that ever turned you on?

17. How do you really feel about anal?

18. How far would you go to land the partner of your dreams?

19. Do you like when someone else makes the first move?

20. Best dating advice you've ever been given?

21. What's the best kiss you've ever had?

22. Do you prefer to give or to receive?

23. Most outrageous sex dream you've ever had?

24. On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is your sex drive?

25. What's a red flag for you in a relationship?

26. Who would you have fucked if you thought you two would never be caught?

27. Do you think a relationship can come back from cheating?

28. What's your favorite kind of kiss?

Have you ever...

29. Sent nudes to someone?

30. Had public sex?

31. Had phone sex?

32. Had a threesome?

33. Accidentally sent nudes to the wrong person?

34. Had a threesome?

35. Sexted while at work?

36. Fucked someone at work?

37. Watched porn with someone else?

38. What is something you wish people knew about sex?

39. What's your favorite way to show casual intimacy?

40. Do you prefer morning or evening sex?

41. What's the most challenging part about sex?

42. Ideally, how long does foreplay last?

43. Does the idea of recording porn with someone turn you on?

44. What's the last thing you came to?

45. Do you feel tired or energized after sex?

46. What's the hottest thing someone has ever said to you?

47. Do you like the scent of sweat?

48. What's the most memorable orgasm you've ever had?

49. Is fucking your CLONE incest or masturbation?

50. Ask me anything!

[new-revenant]

Hi, sorry if this is annoying but I've had this idea for a while and I can't get it outta my head and I'm not a good writer. So here it is

Danny inherits an old amusement park from his deceased grandfather, it would've gone to Jack or Jazz but knowing Jack it would've been demolished in a week from him kool-aid manning himself through attraction walls and he didn't think Jazz would want a whole amusement park so he gave it to Danny, especially since he hated Maddie for encouraging the whole ghost nonsense with Jack.

So that's how a nineteen year old Danny found himself in an abandoned amusement park on the outskirts of Gotham and standing over the Joker who he accidentally knocked out with a 2 by 4 while assessing what he needed to fix. In Danny's defense the clown snuck up on him and he had headphones in. Now if only the group of furies would understand this was an accident

This isn’t annoying at all! “Kool-Aid maning” love that.

Danny would have to show them the paperwork he has that show that he now owns the place, but he doesn’t have it on him so he’s freaking out, thinking that he’s going to jail or something for trespassing on his own property. The Bat Fam are smart enough to know that he’s probably not lying about owning the park now, but they are going to need to do a background check and get the paperwork, because he is kinda sus. They are thankful that they don’t have to deal with Joker for a few more nights as he’s sent off to Arkham(idk how to spell) again. Some members jokingly want him to join, and the idea horrifies Danny so much he almost passes out from that alone.

And side note, it was Jack’s side of the family that seemed to be obsessed with the supernatural, see the blood blossom episode. But I do like the idea of different Fenton members believing in different supernatural creatures and not believing in others, so it still works for my head canons ha ha👍

[whaliiwatching]

one in a million admirers…

based on ofc this prompt

[vaguely-concerned]

obsessed with the fact that if you choose the last purple option in lucanis' romance chat before going off to tearstone island ("they MOVED the MOON!!!" still in the running for the best delivery in the whole game btw it's so ineffably hilarious to me), it's rook who flinches away just a little bit (if still warmly <3) and tries to change the topic and lucanis who's steady even though he's clearly still so afraid. 'don't tempt fate'/'*the softest fucking voice you've ever heard in your entire life* I don't intend to'. pain and suffering

lucanis looking at rook and helplessly, with a wonder that verges on despair, saying 'what would I do without you?' is soooo. especially at that point in the relationship and with what's about to happen. and for whatever reason rook can't quite stay with the fact that they do mean that much to someone, that they are so reverently and so groundingly 'I want to know what your favourite food is so I can make it for you any time you want it' everyday loved, it's too much and they have to deflect from it or the fear of losing it. can say some very interesting things about them, too.

(there is also a Pattern in that in my estimation lucanis frequently responds better to inviting humour than to earnest shows of concern -- it seems to help him be more engaged/online to be offered that more neutral space to meet you in and uh 'build' the conversation around something funny together than to be confronted with compassion head-on because that clearly mostly deer-in-the-headlights him, as we also see with some of the early flirt options haha. contrast this especially with bellara, who repeatedly gets genuinely upset if you try to make light of some pressing and painful situation she's dealing with (girl I'm so sorry I'm so jestercore and I canot change this but I'll try :'( for you). I think the times lucanis reacts negatively to the purple options are much more about you siding with other (frequently more charismatic lol) people against him or throwing him under the bus interpersonally -- like seeming to go along with illario's charm offensives, or telling teia lucanis didn't want to come help out with caterina's funeral and he'd just sit alone and brood about it if you didn't force him (???!!! hello??? unprovoked and deeply unkind out of left field???? this option is so fucking MEAN and for what fhdaskjfa you're telling me there's no way for rook to be a bit of a dick in this game?)

when it's one on one conversation he consistently seems to find it quite comforting, though... which makes a lot of sense because in many ways it's how he interacts with illario, just shorn of the resentments and hidden daggers and things they Do Not Talk About but really should beneath the levity that makes it sharp. it's gone ugly between them, but I think the affectionate instinct beneath is real and goes back a long way before all of that festered -- it's a form of play he does with people he loves. and uh. not really caterina huh. notably.)

[luna-loveboop]

'I've never been in a dungeon before' and 'Who's Ganon?' have literally made some of the BEST reaction panels in Lu I just-

They are very similar conversations- where a Link is pointing out/asking about something that the others have experienced and they haven't. Which is really cool to compare and contrast but they all just freak out about it

Genuinely some of the best conversations in Lu

The lesson here is that apparently the Links will always be freaked out when one of them has missed out on one of the Zelda Fundamentals™

.

Art by Jojo @linkeduniverse au :)

[averycutesalamander]

pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He won't.)

(He could. He should.)

[mightytato]

no uh...no halloween themed art, sorry! but i got a buncha toshi's of different kinds here for you guys, hope ya like em~!💛 my bf likes all might's shadow, so i added it for him lol

process and separate toshi's under da cuuutt

my process is all over the place as usualheheahhaha

who gave him the kisses though... was it you?🫵🏼🤨

[14dayswithyou]

tell ren to turn his location on👉👈

I saw one of the posts of how ren does get jealous of pets being loved over him and alll that so now I have the thought of the one meme of ‘ah yes, me, my partner and their [enter normal pet size] foot [pet]’

I don’t have anything else, it did pop into my head though and I thought I’d share with the class.

⌞♥⌝ ItsNotVivy on Twitter actually made that exact meme with Ren a looong time ago!!

[monstermonger]

Hello!! In your banner, what is the black and purple bird called? I recognise the blackcapped chickadee and the wren (?) but im not sure what the third bird is :O Thank you!

LOL omg no problem :D i’m happy to share!!

Birds (left to right): black-capped chickadee, steller’s jay, red-breasted nuthatch (my absolute favorite bird)

Here’s the plants too because why not c: (left to right): sugar snap peas, parsley (flowering), thyme, rosemary, chives (flowering), marigolds

[soriastrider]

triangles discussing the ending of pi

[daeyumi]

selfshipping cringe af. Get a real bf

anyways here’s me & my longtime partner Link kissing 🩵