#towards the end but you get it…::

[thedeathdeelers]

a quick silly drabble for @saltedsan based on this post

//

otter (on ao3)

“So, Sol-a,” Sunjae starts as he looks up from the script in his hands. “What do you think about dogs?”

Sol, who was snuggled into his side on the sofa, answers absent-mindedly with her eyes still glued to the TV.

“Dogs?”

Sunjae gently nudges her to get her full attention. “Yes, Dogs. A dog. A puppy.”

“Um,” she starts, before finally turning to look at him. “I..I’ve always liked dogs,” she says, “But my mom was allergic so we could never get one.” She pauses to think before resuming. “But I think I’ve always liked the idea of having a dog more than actually owning a dog, y’know?”

Sunjae stares at her for a moment, waiting to see if she realises her mistake.

But all Sol does is stare up at him expectantly, eyes wide and sweetly innocent.

“I think I’m probably more of a cat person anyway,” she adds, shrugging.

Huh.

continue reading on ao3

Sol grins at him when he doesn’t say anything back, before turning her attention back to the TV.

Sunjae sits quietly for a beat before trying again.

“So then what about Otter?”

Sol, who had already gotten fully immersed in her show again looks up at Sunjae, eyes slightly unfocused.

“Otter? Who’s otter?” she asks.

“You know,” Sunjae waves his hand in front of them before draping it back around her shoulder, tucking her back in under his arm. “Otter, your childhood dog.” Sol’s face doesn’t change, the layer of confusion still very much there.

“The one who loved swimming.”

Sol’s bottom lip twitches.

“The one you compared me to in high school.”

Sunjae can see the moment she remembers, memories flooding in as understanding dawns in her eyes even as she tries very hard to keep a straight face.

“O-o-of course he- he was real,” she finally stutters out, laughing a little too loudly as she tries to scoot away from him. “Why- why would you ask?”

Sunjae stares at her for a long moment, head tilting to the side as Sol squirms under his gaze, eyes looking at anything but him.

She was avoiding his eyes — she knew he knew.

“Sol.”

She doesn’t budge, eyes now fixed on the TV even though he knew she wasn’t registering anything happening on the screen.

“Sol-a,” he tries again, this time in a sing-song tone.

Still nothing — only her fingers nervously fiddling with the frayed edge of her sweater giving her away.

Sunjae smirks, knowing he’s got her.

He turns his body to face her, arms coming down to cage her in — wrapping one arm around her waist from the back while his other rests on her thighs.

He feels her jump slightly at his touch.

Leaning in closer so that they were at the same eye level, Sunjae waits until Sol crumbles under the pressure and turns to look at him, gulping nervously in the process.

“So let me get this straight,” he says, finger tapping against her thigh. “You had me think that I reminded you, the girl I was crazy for, of a dead fictional dog all throughout our last year of high school?”

Sol doesn’t react for a moment, until he sees the tiniest of nods.

“All because you’re terrible at thinking on the spot?”

Sol hesitates, mouth opening as if to defend herself, only to snap it shut at the dubious stare Sunjae was sending her way.

She nods again.

Sunjae doesn’t really know how to react — he’d always suspected she had come up with that story just to dodge any time travelling related information, but there was always a tiny part of young Sunjae that worried he was too ‘puppy-like’ for her to take him seriously.

Sunjae snorts at the thought, almost rolling his eyes at his young self.

They were both just as bad as the other.

He focuses his attention back on Sol, who was still staring at him wide-eyed.

“I swear it was- I only did it to- I wasn’t lying about being a fan!!” She finally gets out with a worried expression on her face as her eyes search his for a sign of..something.

Sunjae relents at the sight of her genuine worry, sighing dramatically as he pulls back.

“Sol, we really need to work on your acting,” he says, shaking his head.

“M-my acting? Why-“

“And we really should discuss your naming skills.”

“I-“

“But for now, we should probably think of a punishment.”

“A- a..a what?” she asks, eyes widening at his words.

Sunjae grins at her, leaning forward as she tries to move away from him, only to pounce on her the second her back hits the sofa cushion.

The first he hears are her giggles, his favourite sound in the world.

And then comes the pleading, his fingers digging into her sides as she breathlessly begs him to relent.

He loved that she was ticklish.

His torturing session doesn’t last long, as he soon takes pity on her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before sitting back up, pulling her along with him.

He watches her as she tries to catch her breath, her face glowing with rose-tinted cheeks.

Sunjae feels his heart constrict, still unable to believe she was truly his.

He waits until she’s calmed down, fanning herself in an attempt to cool down; waits until she turns around to scold him-

Before ducking back in towards her to give her a quick peck, successfully cutting her off.

“Sunjae-a!” She gets out, a half-hearted scowl on her face as she struggles to keep the smile off her face.

God, he loved her. Terrible acting and all.

Sunjae gets up from the sofa, leaving a confused Sol behind, only to turn around and scoop her up in his arms, the sounds of her surprised laugh filling up the apartment.

“What are you-“

But he doesn’t let her finish her sentence, cutting her off by pressing a kiss to her cheek.

With a wide grin stretching wider across his face by the second, Sunjae walks around the sofa and carries the love of his life towards their bedroom.

It only takes Sol a second to realise where he was taking her, slapping him once on the chest before giving in, her shy and scandalised giggles following them all the way to bed.

[serpentface]

The pylidaigh, a type of vampiric snow ghost, as imagined in folklore in and around the Highlands.

This is a ghost believed to come into being when a person dies in the snow and their body is not found before their soul (still trapped without its funeral rites) 'freezes' inside of it. The body then reanimates into a pylidaigh's twisted form. It looks like someone who slowly died of starvation, just a thin layer of flesh over bones. Its skin is as white as the snow itself, so pale it can blend seamlessly into a blizzard. Most of its body appears subtly stretched and lanky, save for its exceptionally unsubtle long, skinny arms, which drag on the ground behind it when it walks. After a big meal of blood, its belly swells like the abdomen of a tick.

A pylidaigh can only tread across snow and ice, and so doorways and windows are best kept clear of snowfall during the winter in order to prevent it from reaching inside. It mostly comes out to hunt during blizzards when there is little that can prevent it from catching its victims.

In spite of its fragile appearance, a pylidaigh is supernaturally strong, and can run at great speeds when it wants to. No mortal weapons can pierce its body, nor can any bonds known to craftsmen hold it in place. It is usually said that chains forged like iron but made out of ice can bind a pylidaigh and render it immobile, but this smithing technique remains tragically elusive to the average joe.

This ghost is either cast as a wildly dangerous but tragic figure, or one that is more simply malicious. In either case, it is described as experiencing nothing but bitter cold. It shivers endlessly. It retains distant memories of what it was to be alive, and it is motivated by a futile desperation to experience the feeling of warmth again.

In more sympathetic framings, it is described as using its freaky gibbon arms to capture its victims and pull them into an embrace, rather innocently trying to warm itself against their body. This inevitably fails, and the embrace becomes a bone crushing squeeze. When that too fails to warm the ghost, it rips out the person's throat and drinks their blood until the victim is as cold and drained as the pylidaigh itself.

In other cases, this more pitiable narrative of a ghost seeking warmth with no comprehension of its actions is discarded in favor of making it purely monstrous. Here it is a type of vampire with an insatiable thirst, practically a physical manifestation of the worst of winter itself. Some tales acknowledge both variants, suggesting a pylidaigh's violent attempts to warm itself may be initially devoid of malice, but turns into an act of furious jealousy of the warmth of the living after years of suffering.

The only (more or less) surefire method to permanently kill a roaming pylidaigh involves trapping it with fire. They are attracted to any source of heat, and will attempt to warm themselves with the flames (if not tempted away by a juicy living human body). The fire itself cannot kill them (as the sheer cold of their body is more powerful even than flame) but they can be trapped if kept near the fire long enough for the snow it depends upon to melt. This does not kill the pylidaigh either. The monster will remain in stuck in place (and potentially become a threat again if it snows more) for the duration of the winter. Only when the spring comes and all the snow melts does it revert into a normal human carcass (though mysteriously invulnerable to decay), at which point it can be cremated.

Pylidaigh in the wilds also revert to a human corpse during the snowless seasons, but will roam again each following winter unless it is burnt in the interim. It is of critical importance that any human corpse found in high mountain pasture is cremated- not only out of respect for the poor soul trapped as an earthbound ghost, but to prevent the threat of the possible dormant pylidaigh emerging next winter.

[caffichai]

"Alright then, Cowgirl, show me you know how to ride.”

A piece for my friend @fishing-lesbian-catgirl 's story: Coldshot's Called Shot

It's spicy! If you like it spicy, give it a read! Bonus extra spicy artwork by yours truly featured in the story too

[zodiac-monkey]

[dykedvonte]

Curly's little blurb on his steam trading card just keeps reminding me he is a much more miserable person than people realize.

We don't get a lot of his thoughts, inner confliction that aren't bogged down by what Jimmy says or does. Even in the The Last One and Then Another, his dialogue is reflective, not the Curly before the crash but the result of everything. Parts of the him he was are there of course, but also disfigured and warped beyond recognition just like he is physically.

Curly really doesn't think much of himself and desires. He clearly chases fleeting moments of happiness. He doesn't really have prospects for himself, assumes in a similar way to Swansea, that if it should make it happy then he is happy. Though, he hasn't reached the point Swansea did to admit it doesn't. He neither sees the glass half full or empty, it's just water, something he needs and he'll take it from any perspective.

He wasn't running from anything but he's never really been going towards something either. He's listless. I've been using the term complacent to describe how he feels about his life and the closest people (really just Jimmy) in it, but now that word feels too neutral, too nice. Happier than Curly really was. There isn't just one word for it, he's unfulfilled, uncertain, uninspired. There are no active problems he faces and that's the issue, why should he be upset?

I believe he really is a person who doesn't know who he is or wants to be. He follows a structure. I don't think he's suicidal, but he clearly doesn't think about what makes him happy. He's numb. I suppose that is a better word than complacent, used to the feeling even if he hates it. It doesn't hurt so why stop it?

[cubbihue]

It would be nice to hear from Wanda and Cosmo! It is kind of nice that you guys have two children like your own family does. Are you two still close to your siblings? Wanda has a sibling and Cosmo also have a sibling just like Timmy and Peri. Do they share some sibling stories to your children?

Wanda and Cosmo both reconnected with their siblings shortly after having Peri. Or, well. More like Blonda reentered their lives once she realized she had a baby nephew. Eventually, they slowly patched things up the more Blonda came to visit Peri.

Schnozmo was dragged back kicking and screaming. Mama Cosma refuses to have her sons live estranged lives now that she has a grandchild in the picture. Schnozmo doesn't know how to handle children, but he's doing his best.

Peri likes Schnozmo because he makes silly noises and funny stories. But he prefers Blonda's theatrics much more and loves playing Dress Up with her.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[goldenenene]

Ultrakill is a brain eating amoeba

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

My Lawyer is going to Get Your Ass.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[dynamo-deepblue]

Crash doesn't like to see Coco get frustrated, so he helps out by working his magic! Crash himself probably doesn't even know what he did to help, lol.

I've never really done a comic-type thing like this so this was more a challenge for me to draw characters interacting and also attempting to draw them consistently. It was a fun exercise :)

[scarapanna]

I liked your art, you won🎉🎉🎉

WE WON NO REDEMPTION WAHOOOOO/silly

I'm still terrified of the redemption route for this clown though hdhghfg, I want his silly self to stay evil and wimsy and goofy and with redemption uhhh

We're like

I dunno I'm sooo scared devsis is gonna take away that aspect which is what makes him just so funnn. Please pretty please let him be god awful and rotten and rude and goofy if you take that route Devisis I want him to keep his funny wimsy qualities. Please please pleaseeee write him well y'all are doing sooo good with him don't fumble by taking the redemption route (And if they do it better be good and he better stay chaotic and goofy and sassy and condescending and all his "rotten rabid thing" qualities)

If they do him (And his fun aspects justice in this dreaded hypotetical) then I may be cool with it. Though the mean ass possum has grown on me so much I'd 100% miss that evil and unhinged part of him TONS, devsis have mercy pretty please/silly

[Longer more insane ramblings are in the tags hsfhfhhv]

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I'm sorry but James Vowles criticising how Red Bull has treated their drivers in the past, only to go and then treat Logan far worse while pulling the exact same shit Red Bull did, ie the exact behaviour he criticised and called them out for, is so freaking infuriating like the sheer hypocrisy -

[renjunnipeikko]

dunno if this has been done yet but: airplane didn’t first become aware of peerless cucumber in the comments of pidw, he first saw peerless in the comments of a different web novel (that perhaps was one of airplane’s earlier works?) and so when initially drafting pidw he was inspired to write a villain just like cucumber bc “he’s MEAN MEAN for no reason, a literature snob, and pretends to be all high and mighty while looking down on others. also likes to kick down the little guy” and boom. sqq was born. cut to years later post-transmigration when sqh just casually drops this info with “lol i always did find it funny how much you hated the guy considering he’s literally based off you”

[adastra121]

I have an Ais headcanon.

Ais writes poetry.

Ais has always had a fascination for language. Language is connection. In each exchange, it binds people together, gives each person a glimpse into another’s existence — in some ways, Seaspring’s Groupmind is a pale facsimile of the same phenomenon, a cheap shortcut to knowing another soul without taking the time to listen. Language is connection and for someone who detests isolation, Ais’s hungry soul can never devour its fill.

He picks up on the subtle ways that words interact with the world — the ways in which one word can mean one thing, but can transform in meaning when paired with another. The ways in which a word can grow and evolve with people. The ways in which words are alive.

The more he listens, the more he learns, the more he holds — words, language, entire worlds in his mind and on the page, arranged and rearranged, meanings shifting and transforming, to give shape to a moment. To existence. Scrawling it all down as a way to parse out which thoughts and feelings are still his. Even if they aren’t, there is a comfort to penning down lost souls’ words as they defiantly continue to leave their marks on the world they, for the most part, could only drift through.

So he writes and fills pages with thoughts, feelings, observations. Experiments with the words, the syntax. He writes poems in every new language he learns.

[ruporas]

lonely

[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”

The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”

The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"

The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."

The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"

The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"

The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"

The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."

The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]

[gojoest]

pregnancy freak satoru + lactation kink on the mind …. after a long, long day away from you he likes to be held close to your chest, one hand on his cheek and the other at the back of his head—supporting him softly while his lips latch on your lactating nipple. he’s palming your belly and humming contently, his eyes roll back at the taste of your motherhood, his hips get restless, his cock gets hard and leaky ……. will you take care of him, hm?