#I can’t code

[coreyjaechicken]

Me trying to add collision to a square:

[muminshoom]

I’ve been struggling to change my favicon with no luck, I even changed the entire html because I’m using a different theme and the favicon still wont change I need help

[spinecouture]

who can i pay to code css on my janitor ai profile ):

[chloesimaginationthings]

Canon FNAF events for Afton kids…

[shepscapades]

Uhhhhh. Uh. Do you ever think about the fact that Welsknight is the only member of the Evil Empire that joined simply because Xisuma convinced him to, and that he’s the only one there who is never directly manipulated, controlled, or corrupted by Evil X (Android 24)? Completely unrelated thought but I wonder what it’s like to be surrounded by the people you trust most slowing becoming brainwashed, the only ‘sober’ one as you watch their familiar faces slowly become unrecognizable

Alternatively: I got possessed by my corner of the magmaboard and the incomprehensible horrors Freakin Got Me

[boobearymuch]

Grabbing you by the scruff of your collar rn bc when tf were yall gonna mention that zayne is a GAMER???

He OWNS a NINTENDO SWITCH?????

[dumbnotstupidfuck]

can’t stop thinking abt husk’s animation here

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

searching, sleepless - early-game Sylus x MC/Reader

ft. comfort, yearning, fluff, minor myth spoilers!

Sylus was sprawled over the couch, lazily swirling a glass of red wine between his fingers. The room lights were low, a classical vinyl spinning the sound of violins into the dark. He sensed you a moment before you appeared in the doorway, a prickle on the back of his neck. His eyes flashed with something- hope? before he arranged his features back into a cool mask.

"Can I help you, kitten?" He shifted, subtly making room for you beside him, if you wanted it. You rubbed your eyes, still a little nervous to intrude- this isn't the first time you've spent the night as a guest of the Onychinus leader, but it is the first time you've sought him out in the dark.

"I couldn't sleep," you answered, half-truthfully. You were sleeping fine until the nightmares. Shadows of teeth and claws, crimson blood and jewels the same shade as his watchful eyes, the same eyes now inspecting you over the rim of his glass.

"And you thought you'd ask me for help." He shook his head and smirked, keeping his voice casual. He wanted to cross the room and scoop you into his arms, but he pushed down the urge. "How exactly can I assist you, Miss Hunter?"

Your shoulders slumped a little, your confidence fading. Why did you think he'd care? "I just- wanted some company. Guess that was a mistake." You half-turned, as if about to leave-

But Sylus leaned forward, his arm outstretched, red and black mist curling loosely around your wrist. "Don't go so soon." With a flick of his fingers, the mist turned you back to face him, then dissipated. "Come, sit."

You perched cautiously on the edge of the couch as Sylus poured you a glass of wine. He placed it in your hand and clinked the rim against his own, then settled back comfortably into his seat. You were both painfully aware of the space between your bodies, but you didn't show it.

“Go on, try it. Look, I’m drinking from the same bottle. No poison,” he teased. You took a tiny sip, then a much bigger one when the luxurious flavor hits your tongue. This wasn't the wine that the Hunter's Association sometimes passes out at events. It was rich, probably more expensive than you wanted to know, and somehow tasted like the sun-soaked hillside where the grapes must've been grown, down to the mineral tang of the soil.

"I know, right?" Sylus drawled, enjoying your surprise, and you couldn't help a small smile.

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty nice."

He laughed, but didn't question your attempt to save face. You leaned back into the couch, your shoulders loosening slightly. "Is this what you do every night, Sylus?"

He looked around the room, trying to see it through your eyes. The vinyl was still playing, the violins fading into soft piano. "Only sometimes, kitten. When I'm not out...attending to things."

You didn't answer, drinking more of the wine as the silence stretched out between you. Sylus twisted a ring around his finger, almost as if he was anxious about something.

"Do you like the music?" He asked suddenly.

"It's not what I would have expected from you."

He twisted around in mock-offense, one hand draped over the back of the couch, almost touching your shoulder. "What, you don't think a hardened criminal can enjoy a sonata? You wound me."

"Well it isn't exactly intimidating."

He considered that for a moment then leaned over, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "Oh? Is there someone here I should be trying to intimidate? If I recall correctly, you came looking for me, sweetie. I don't usually have company on nights like this."

A blush crept across your cheeks and you stared down into your wine glass, avoiding his smirk and the way it made your chest tighten. "I do like the music," you conceded. "It's comforting."

"Is that what you came here looking for?" His voice wasn’t teasing anymore, just low and earnest. "Comfort?" He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your cheek, the touch feather-light. You nodded wordlessly, leaning into his palm.

Sylus knew he couldn’t express it, couldn’t risk scaring you off now that you finally seemed to be letting him close- but oh how his heart ached at the feeling of your cheek against his skin, the vulnerability of your eyes falling closed while he held you like this. He wanted to remind you of long nights under the stars, the view from the mountain, the way he’s sure your bodies remembered how to fit together like they once did, two halves of one soul. He wanted you to remember what you once were, what you could be again- but the record skipped. He pulled his hand away quickly, flexing it in his lap.

The silence that followed was comfortable. Your tiredness was steadily creeping back, the fear of the nightmare fading with the wine and the music and Sylus’s steady weight at your side. You curled your legs up underneath you on the couch and leaned back.

“Is there anything you want, sweetie? You should know by now that this base is at your disposal.” His voice had lost some of its nonchalance but he covered it quickly and added wryly, “For better or for worse.”

“It’s a little cold,” you murmured. He moved as if to stand, already mapping fireplaces and space heaters in his head, but to Sylus’s shock you snuggled into his side instead.

He was frozen for a heartbeat, in the space of which you tugged his arm down from the back of the couch and around your waist.

“Perfect. You’re like a weighted blanket.”

You felt Sylus���s deep laugh rumble through your chest. He shifted back to let your head rest on his shoulder, his other hand smoothing over your hair. If you felt his fingers tremble, you didn’t admit it.

You felt at peace in a way you couldn’t articulate, a way you were too tired to question, a bone-deep way you didn’t want to hold up to the light- not yet. So you simply laced your fingers with his and slipped into sleep.

If you wanted to sleep for a thousand years, Sylus would spend a thousand years right there on that couch, holding your hand. An army of wanderers could’ve swarmed into the room, and he wouldn’t dare move your head off his shoulder.

He was lost in the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the tiny twitches of your fingertips, the way your face softened and smoothed in sleep. When he spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard, weaving itself into your dreams.

“For this- to have you safe, here with me- I’d do it all over again. I’d go through it again-“ He paused as you mumbled nonsense in your sleep, pressing your cheek into his arm. Warmth flooded him from every place you overlapped.

“I love you, kitten. Sweet dreams.”

And like he always would, no matter where it took him, Sylus followed you. He fell asleep still holding your hand.

[hyunpic]

daily gifs until hyune day: what can’t he do? — talented singer-songwriter, rapper, dancer, choreographer, producer, model. some other talents including: swimming, football, painting/drawing, pottery & photography: “the moment i realize, oh, i can love this too! my world expands. if i keep discovering new things that i enjoy, there’s no end to it. who knows? maybe three years from now, i’ll be completely obsessed with fishing. just imagine how happy i’d be watching the fish swimming in the water! thinking about what i might come to love in the future makes me look forward to tomorrow a little more”

[ultkenneth]

Male (subbot) Reader, lowkey soft, handholding while fucking like freaks, calls you sunshine among other things, possible ooc, I don’t like this <3

I NEED YOUR BLESSIN’, BABY, I’LL FUCK YOU IF YOU LET ME, BABY love, dean

Price has you on your back, hands gripping into your thighs like it’s his lifeline as he fucks into you. Sweet moans spilling from your kiss bitten lips, dick leaking pathetically onto your stomach with every thrust. But Price, ever the one to know how to please his partner, is too good.

It should be a crime the way he fills you up, thick cock pressing against all the right spots that has you moaning like a whore. Nails creating crescent shapes on your thighs right next to the hickeys and bites he so lovingly gave you, but it’s too much and the feel makes your legs tremble around him.

“Hold on hold on—“ you whine, tapping a hand against his thigh.

“Too much?” He mumbles, slowing down to a stop, rubbing a hand against your thigh affectionately.

“Yeah…” you nod, catching your breath as he throbs inside you.

“‘M sorry, sunshine.” He presses a kiss against your cheek before leaning back, free hand rubbing up and down your chest.

“It’s alright.” And like the man he is, he patiently waits until you nod before slowly restarting his pace. Leisurely rutting into you as he gently parts your legs a little more. Price hums appreciatively as you moan softer, a hand gripping into the sheets as the other grips onto his wrist.

He moves a hand from your thigh to bring up the hand gripping his wrist to his lips, lightly kissing it that makes you whimper and pre cum drip from your dick. He lets your hand down to instead hold onto it, fingers interlocking as his hips roll into yours.

The action has a blush rising to your face and your heart beats faster. This man is gonna be the death of you… You push your face into the sheets to try to cover it but he tch’s disapprovingly with a shake of his head.

“Don’t hide from me, love.” Price cups your jaw and tilts your head back towards him, a grin forming on his face at the sight of you. All blushy and pupils blown wide with the help of his slow and sensual pace. “Holdin’ hands turns you on baby? I’ll keep that in mind…”

[bensonsknuckles]

listen. headlights and deer in the sense that benson speeds headlong into randy’s life and careens him off the course he had been bound to. in the sense that randy is blinded, paralysed in the glare of benson’s presence. in the sense of inertia, of Before and After. in the sense that they collide violently and both are destroyed upon impact.

[sparticus2000art]

I would like to say congratulations to cross xtale for coming out as trans.

[luuxxart]

i’m not saying there’s pepsi in miyu’s eggnog recipe. but like. i’m not not saying it

[aria-greenhoodie]

Decided to redraw that lovely Bill Cipher Circle (does it have a proper name?) to act as a cover image for my Bill Cipher playlist…

+ sticker-friendly colored version! ↓

Click for Quality!

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

i'm going to arrange your dna in alphabetical order.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

^both my reaction and how that sequence would start

[myfairkatiecat]

Neal and Mozzie make such good partners in crime because Neal is all charming and silver-tongued, yes, but a lot of people are on their guard for people like that, despite how unfairly good at it he is. But if Mozzie walks in first and just starts being absolutely bonkers and insane, and they’re distracted and annoyed and not thinking, Neal now looks even more trustworthy and down to earth and, well, normal, which makes his natural charm work even better because they would so much rather be interacting with him than the guy who is actively being we obnoxious as possible for the sole reason of creating a distraction and making it too difficult for the marks to remember that sometimes people who sound trustworthy aren’t.