#also much errors

[sewercrocodileart]

Suppose I do some traditional stuff today but instead I do this from other post jsksjsksjsjs

[egophiliac]

GET LOVED, IDIOT

GET LOVED SO HARD YOUR KIDS HOLD HANDS AND POWER-OF-LOVE YOU BACK TO LIFE

sorry guys, this is just my brain now. this is going to be the only thing I think about for the next week at least.

oh and also this

FIVE YEARS IN AND IT'S FINALLY CANON 🎉🎉🎉

WE DID IT

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[pixellangel]

a critical error has occured

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Arranged Marriage, Stalking, Forced Kiss

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You had thought for years that the prophecy wouldn't be true. It hung over your head like a crimson moon, equal parts beautiful and haunting, words lingering on your lips like a young lover.

As decreed by the Mnestia long ago, Kephale would one day take up a lover who would wield witticisms and words as weapons forged in an ever-burning mind. At the time, it had seemed preposterous that a Titan, much less Kephale, would take up a lover. If not for a servant scribbling those utterances down and telling his children, who told their own children, who told their children, so on and so forth, the prophecy would have been lost to time.

If it had, would you still be in this predicament?

The first time you had heard of the prophecy when studying poets of old, you had brushed it aside as a simple legend. Kephale had already laid down a prophecy of his own by this time of how new heroes would soon conquer Coreflames to inherit the Titans' divinities, but you knew none of the Chrysos Heirs.

After a period of study, you soon began to craft your own verses. You much preferred the solitude of your home to the bustling crowds of the city, so you didn't hear how quickly your works began to gain popularity. Bards had a new repertoire to learn, and schemes and conceits never once imagined flowed through the air.

When one of the Chrysos Heirs himself began knocking on your door every day, demanding your attention, you realized your popularity had shattered any preconceived zeniths. Phainon was his name, he said, and from what he had heard of you, he was enchanted. The look in his eyes was such a hazy, skylit blue, it seemed like he truly had been the victim of some bizarre spell.

Every day he came and encroached more and more upon you and your home. At first, he stayed outside of your door, but eventually, he began to barge in, sitting at your table or searching amongst your shelves for any subjects he could strike a conversation with you on.

Despite his idiosyncrasies and his forthright behavior, despite the occasional memory igniting in your mind, reminding you of the prophecy, you didn't worry about it. Phainon had told you many times how he longed to take the Coreflame of Nikador, not Kephale. When word spread through Okhema over Nikador's defeat, whatever lingering doubts seemed to be extinguished. You were fine. The prophecy wasn't true, or perhaps it was meant for another Chrysos Heir, another poet.

Weeks later, you found yourself regretting your assuredness. It started, as many no-good things did, with a knock on your door. As you begrudgingly walked to open it, expecting to see perhaps a bard or a fool, you instead were greeted by Phainon. Despite the weariness in his eyes, his hands shot out and clenched your shoulders with such speed and strength, you nearly leapt out of your skin. His nose nuzzled into your neck, taking a deep breath. For what seemed like hours, he mumbled and babbled and blathered and prattled about Coreflames, Nikador, Kephale, and the prophecy. After his tirade, his grip tightened.

"But, at least you're mine now." The words seemed to shackle themselves around your wrists, binding you and your attention.

For a moment, you were so dumbfounded you couldn't find the words to express what you wanted to say. Had your situation been any less confounding, you would've found your speechlessness a wonderful little paradox. "Phainon, wha-what do you m-?"

Before you could finish your sentence, Phainon sealed away any remaining restraint he had with a brutally tender kiss. He seemed to push against your lips with the goal of wearing them down until they molded perfectly against his. The kiss itself seemed to metamorphosize with how long it lived; at first it was tender, like new shoots of life growing in spring, but as it grew in age, so did its greed. Phainon seemed intent on savoring every second as an eternity in its own right.

When he did break the kiss, he gazed at you with an otherworldly devotion. It was a look of such sweet softness that it could kill. "I might not have Kephale's Coreflame yet, but I will. I'll do it. Just for you." Though he said he didn't have a Coreflame, his eyes burned with passion brighter than the sun. It scorched your tender skin, branding you with illusory markings of possession. A declaration, almost, that you were, in fact, the subject of Mnestia's dreadful prophecy.

[limerlove]

WITH GIN IN JULY

❝ ABBY ANDERSON!ONE SHOT ❞

ෆ | pairing. enemies to lovers!abby x female!reader

abby anderson? she's a fucking nightmare. with everyone in her back pocket, she adores all. the golden girl, but to you she's just the asshole not to be trifled with. a kind heart to everyone, except you. you hate her and she hates you. what could possibly change that?

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: 3k wc. smut, oral sex, fingering, no strap so stop complaining ♡ (this is a joke don’t attack me), a lot of fucks said, enemies to lovers, me being in love with abby, yk there’s a recession when i’m throwing fluff in a fic. okay, ray. shut up.

Apprehension runs cold in her veins, ice for blood with a small throttle for a pump — she’s a fucking nightmare wrapped in a devil’s daydream.

To everyone else, she's the perfectly nice, perfectly fine girl. The two of you introduced to one another in the first week of July, the weekend of the forth. All of your friends raved about how kind Abby is, a heart of gold, is what they all said.

In all honesty, you had even been thrilled to meet her. You love your little group of friends, the family you never had but fuck are you sorely disappointed by blonde-brute.

She was anything but kind. Intentional malice laced in her deviously-blue eyes from the first time you met. As time went on, so did Abby's growing irritation. Even as the heat blossomed, she still managed to root her cruelness in rich soil.

"I just don't know what everyone sees in her! She's so mean, all the time, she's barely even human."

And here she is, simmering in the pool with her stupid cocktail and that damn gleeful smile. She taunts, under the radar of everyone else, always making you look like the monster with one evil eye and talons for hands.

“You don’t think you’re making all this up just because—” Jesse trails off but your fury is lasered on to her, not letting up for a single moment.

“Not think, I know." Continuing to rail off your tangent as you see her being warm and fuzzy with everyone else except you.

For fuck sake, she's like a goddamn teddy bear. You might hold her if she lets you but no one else besides you is going to know it.

You decide to cool off inside needing a cool drink in this excruciating heat. The first thing you’re met with is cool air-conditioning and cool white-marble floors, chilling your overheated body back to room temperature.

It’s much better this way, in silence where your disdain can rot like a sour pomegranate. Complete solitude could solidify the vindication you feel every time she throws another insult when no one else is listening.

As you're bent over, digging through the freezer to find your strawberry-lemonade you had placed there earlier you hear a throat being cleared.

You crane your neck just to see it’s her.

Picture perfect Abby, god, you wish you could slap that stupid grin off her pink and pretty lips. Always smirking at you like she knows something you can’t possibly be aware of.

“Need help?”

“Nope. It’s not like you were actually offering.” You’re short and sharp with her, keeping your interactions with Abby to the absolute minimum.

It’s better for everyone this way.

“I could help you out and—”

“We both know you won’t.” Finally, you find it, shoved at the bottom underneath the frozen fruit. But when you rise and turn around, your chest is practically pressed against hers.

She’s testing the waters, normally you wouldn’t be such an idiot. You would push her away, shoulder check her even. Or you would try. Abby’s hard to push around, half of her body weight must be muscle.

Between being a mechanic and her necessity to be a total gym addict, her build was stronger than pretty much everyone. With her strength, she pushes you against the fridge with her pelvis, shutting the freezer door shut with your frozen strawberry-lemonade in hand.

“Do we have a problem?” You pry as she looks like she wants to devour you from the inside out.

“What would make you say that?” She waits for you to respond as she stretches out her arm, palm resting by your head, seeing how far she could push you.

Like she always goddamn does.

“You’re here, hovering. God, you’re worse than my ex.” Trying to push her away, but Abby doesn’t even budge.

“Oh.” And for a moment, genuine interest flashes in her eyes. Clearly, you’ve gone senile. “You and her—”

Now, you’re over conscious in your lack of clothing as she bites her lip, sinking teeth into the flesh. Venomous glances find mercy in you, but you’re not sure why they’ve been replaced with longing.

“Why does it matter? Can you let me go?”

“Yeah, right, sorry.”

Abby apologizing? Weird.

—

The truce lasted for a single moment. Sympathy for a broken heart apparently had an expiration date, or a timer for less than twenty-four hours.

“Were you actually going to hit me?” Abby cocks her eyebrow, the gray in her eyes coming to life as a speck of desire crosses near her heart.

"I wasn't trying to hit you. If I wanted to, you would know."

You can't really say this was entirely her fault. Ever since the unintentional spilling of your forementioned breakup, she'd been looming over you. As if she was waiting for you to crack. All you wished was to forget any of it ever happened.

For a second, you thought she could be capable of kindness towards you and then when you tossed an orange to Ellie, it happened to hit her in the face.

"What do you want from me? What's it going to take for you to exercise one decently kind bone in your body?"

She's sizing you up in your bedroom door with the door shut, the one she chased you down in like you're a wild animal. Everyone in the room knew better than to chase either one of you. The two of you always fought like this.

And every single time, you worked it out enough to tolerate each other. But now Abby was witnessing the steam, the ultimate point of rage pushed past the point of containment.

"Me? What about you? Suddenly I'm the problem when you've been an asshole to me from day one. Day fucking one, Abigail."

You're pacing back and forth in your room, attempting to calm yourself down before you completely lose it and say something you can't come back from.

"Me? Like all of this is my fault? The first time you looked at me you decided you had to hate my guts." Abby catches your arm, stopping you from moving another inch.

"Let me go, now." Your voice doesn't waver for a moment, not one stutter is heard, but Abby can't help stare at your lips. Then you're staring at hers and all of it becomes crystal clear.

"Or what? What are you going to do about it?" Single handedly, her words pierce through you warm flesh, exposing the wound she created. For a moment, just for a second, you wonder if Abby’s the antidote you’ve been searching for. 

She wonders how you would react if you walked out of here, ignoring her obvious advances she keeps throwing your way. But it’s always on your terms. Abby’s too cowardly to initiate anything first. Dangling the carrot in front of you like a desperate rabbit, begging to be satiated with the first crunch. 

Stepping forward, your perfectly manicured hand strokes her freckled check, nails lightly scraping against her porcelain flesh. “I won’t have, you’ll do it for me.” 

The tone in your voice drops, smirking as Abby visibly gulps. The lump she swallows is enough indication that she’s been caught. The mean remarks, your former girlfriend at your side when the two of you met, the jealousy, the snide comments Abby would only say when it was the two of you — all of it a ruse to disguise the feelings she decided to bury deep upon your very first meeting. 

A swipe of your thumb caresses her chin, tilting her lips towards you, as her hot and heavy breath curses your lips like a sin you would be willing to die for. A small whimper falls from her, her bambi blues widen at the audible omission. A mistake, a slip-up, and fuck is it perfect. 

“Show me how much you want this, Abby. Be a good girl.” 

Hell breaks loose with those four words and Abby’s self-control is unshackled with it. Practically throwing you on the bed like a certified ragdoll, you become her own personal barbell to train with. Wedging herself between your legs that are already open for her, you’re met with tongue and teeth as she regains control. 

You have a feeling she’s not one for giving in so easily and the whimper Abby felt embarrassed by would be hard to come by, again. The sleep shorts you’re wearing give her enough access as the fabric bunches on your ass. Abby chuckles as you grind up into her pelvis, desperate for more as you practically feel her tongue in the back of your throat. 

Fingers dig into her golden roots, trying so desperately to have her whine for you again, but all you get is a moan — as pretty as it is, it’s not what you want, but it’s enough. 

For now. 

Abby separates as you help her out of the oversized sweater she was wearing with a thin pair of boxers. Here she is, baby-blue boxers hung low on her hips as your hand smoothes over her defined six-pack, muscles flexing underneath your touch. Freckled and toned, small pink nipples practically begging to be placed in your mouth. 

“Oh—” Your hands sink into her boxers, feeling her bush prickling under your touch, as your fingers slide against her drenched folds, each one fluttering as you stroke her enticing lips. “Fucking knew you liked to be praised.” 

The better part of Abby should keep her mouth shut, but when you’re taking shit all she wants is to give it right back. You’re in luck. There’s a finger slipping inside of her and her brain shuts off, she’s unable to think about anything but the sight of you biting your lips as fuck her with skilled fingers. 

Abby leans her body forward to make it easier for you, slipping deeper into your walls. Almost as if she can sense her lips about to spill, she captures your mouth, letting her moans spill in the back of your throat. Abby coats you with her sweet honey, the sounds she makes could rival an angel’s symphony. 

Hips thrusting against you — it’s a perfect moment to sleep another finger inside her — so you do. 

There’s that fucking whimper. More desperate than her stormy-blue eyes, begging to be loved. To be needed, it’s all she had been wanting from you and it’s clear as day. Abby decides she’s had enough. 

Time to even the playing field. 

Ripping the cotton right of your body, the grey-washed tank top is ruined and discarded in your bedroom. Abby latches her lips on to your breast, her forefinger and thumb pinching the other. As if she was born to do it, she suckles on your pebbled nipple, her tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh. 

Abby didn’t know how satisfying it would feel to watch you fumble with your fingers fucking her, the control slipping from your fingertips with just a suck and a flick of her tongue. All of it gone too soon as she pries your shorts and panties off in a single movement. 

As she removes herself for a second, you’re tasting her on your fingers, saturating the sweetness on your tongue. Only wishing her taste could be permanently embedded into your velvet tongue. A way to rinse yourself clean of all the impurities rotting in your brain, the taste of your cunt could bring the salvation you so desperately seek home. 

“Luck for you—” She pauses as she decorates your soft stomach in kisses, “You’re about to come harder than you ever have before.” 

Abby starts with flattening her tongue, a long and languid stripe of her tongue drags along your pussy, dipping her tongue in your clenched hole before guiding her rolling tongue on your quivering clit. 

“But after this, and mark my words, you’re never going to want anyone else but me after this.” Before you can even argue, the collected spit in her mouth drips over your pussy as she slobbers the natural lubricant on an already drenched pussy. 

“Fuck, Abby, what the—” Pushing your legs forward, knees nearly hitting your headboard as she spreads more of your cunt before she gives it her all. Focused entirely on one thing. 

Like it’s an olympic sport, her mouth wastes no time at all. Sparing no expense when it comes to make you well…come. The muscle spares no restriction when it comes to your cunt, shoving her face in your pussy, the bridge of her nose nudging against your clit as she lets her fingers sink into a weeping hole. 

The moans being released from your magnetic lips, Abby’s never heard before. Not from you or anyone she’s pinned down with her mouth. No regard for your friends who are just down the hall, hearing every word falling from your lips sound like a sanctioned prayer. 

Curses of her name fly out of your mouth quicker than you catch them, sucking the soul out of your body as she claims you in ways you’ll never come back from — true to words — in a matter of moments she’s cockily proven to be better than anyone you’ve had before. 

As you tug on the blonde roots, she glances up at you through hooded eyes, a chokehold of sultry as she divides her lips with her tongue as she doesn’t break eye contact. She holds it, just for you, as she watches and hears you scream when you slip another finger inside her. Abby curling her fingers is the last nail in the coffin as you fuck her gorgeous face. 

Those gorgeous blue eyes rivaling the beauty of sapphires. 

“God, gonna keep you right here forever. Always wanna hear you—” Abby moans into your swollen lips, kissing the sweet spot inside you, making the stars align perfectly in the back of your mind. “Say my name for me again, angel.” 

You don’t want to give in. She’s manhandled the power right out of you, as if it never had been placed in your hands to begin with. Like she had domineered you into this position. Make a dominatrix into a submission princess. But truth be told, you lost focus and Abby was there to pounce on you. Waiting for her perfect moment and capitalizing on it. 

“Don’t— fuck—I-I don’t think you deserve it.” You pause for a moment trying to control the shudder in your breath but you’re starting to believe it’s nearly impossible. 

‘“I don’t?” Without warning, there’s a harsh slap to your lips, all three fingers sinking deeper into your clenching walls. “Want to tell me what I don’t deserve again? Or does my girl want to come?” 

Before you can control it, there’s an animalistic groan pouring out of your lips, causing Abby to double down on her efforts. With deep breaths, you’re incredibly close, and with every stroke of her tongue she sends you closer to the edge. 

A stroke of her tongue, a thrust of her fingers — it’s so close you can nearly latch onto it. 

“You like that, angel? Want me to call you my girl?” You hate how cocky she is about it. Abby gleams with pride as you buck your hips into her face once again, whining at the possession. In this instant, solely belonging to the woman who’s eating you out like there’s no tomorrow, is the only desire you crave. 

“Shut up.” It’s supposed to come out intimidating, a bit ruthless even, but it’s almost comical when Abby hums into your cunt. Not when you’re so close to painting her sun kissed-cheeks with pearly white cum. 

It’s almost like she’s done this before with you, she uses her free hand to play with your nipple, like you told her it’s the one thing that can help bring you over the edge. Abby doesn’t stop sucking, on your clit, her tongue serving strokes to your clit as your thighs shake, squeezing her head as she refuses to relent her pace. 

“Choke me out sweet girl, need my baby to come—” Abby locks her eyes on you, “Keep fucking my face, yeah, good fucking girl.” 

Like a flower budding in the spring, Abby watches as your pussy flutters your stomach clenching, body writhing as she fucks you through it all. 

“Don’t stop, oh fuck me, god, that’s so good. Baby, Ohhh—” She’s practically grinning into your cunt as you hear yourself sloshing against her soaked fingers, not letting her mouth release it’s iron-grip around the clit pulsating against her tongue. 

“Fuck, you taste so sweet.” Abby is in amazement, savoring every moment of your body twitching to her touch. Until you’re spent, murmurs of too sensitive causes a small smile to grace her face. “You did such a good job, baby.” 

Abby slips on the side your body isn’t taking up, staring at the ceiling with a cheshire grin as she hears your heavy breath. It’s more than you’re usually given. She only needs to hear you struggling to know how much truth it rings. No faith is needed to see what’s right in front of her. 

Propping her head in the palm of her hand, elbow digging into the silky-satin, she can’t stop smiling at you. Half of you expects her to kick back to her normal routine of hating you — maybe Abby didn’t really like you. She just wanted to fuck. 

“You know this doesn’t have to be a one time thing—” Abby draws random patterns into your skin with the blunt of the fingernail, pawing at the skin, desperate for just a little bit more of you. “If you ever want to see stars again.” 

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Shamelessly, Abby nods. The warmest smile spread on her face, it’s so infectious. Her genuineness rotting through your sourness, making something entirely too sweet for you to swallow but you take it on. 

Even in fear. 

“I thought it was cute.” She’s so bashful about it, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. Almost delicate. 

“Mhm, if you say so.” 

“I do.” She pushes a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. The love in her eyes can’t lie, you hope it’s genuine. Abby can’t stop smiling so you choose to believe it is. 

“Would you…uh—” She stutters out as you rub circles into her hips, “I wanted to ask you if you would like to go on a date sometime.” 

“You know what’s cute? Playing god with my pussy but then being nervous to ask me out on a date.” You tease her. Immediately, her cheeks morph into crimson, trying to hide as much as she can with her hands but the damage has already been done. And you don’t feel sorry about it for one second. 

“So, is that a yes?”

[rookschnapps]

narinder studying! I don’t think learning resurrection was easy

[sam-violet]

chillin in the hot springs 🌱

+ a closeup

[zu-is-here]

The Frog Princess ✧ Your Culture Day

Dream & Nightmare by jokublog

Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

[princescar]

oooo or mukie covered in blood just cuz

Join Despair

[nachobsns]

Hello - I was impressed and extremely relieved by what you wrote in the post about the cult mentality of the Left RE Israel and accusations of genocide. You mentioned that you bought into the mindset until recently. If it's all right for me to ask, what was it that helped you break out of it? (Please feel free to delete/ignore if you'd rather not answer!)

thank you!! and no worries about asking— i think i put something in my pinned post about how people are welcome to send asks about this stuff, although my story isn’t super interesting. i fell down the typical online rabbithole, a couple weeks after october 7; i knew what had happened, at least vaguely, but the posts trickling onto my dash were all about the (undeniably tragic) loss of life in gaza, with little to no acknowledgment of the hamas atrocities that had started the war, so my narrative was pretty one-sided from the beginning. it just continued to snowball as the months went on and people became more radicalized, calling into question the reality of the 10/7 attacks and the humanity of all israelis. i never went all the way down the pipeline to full-on endorsing hamas or justifying their attacks, at least on a personal level, thank god, but i would reblog other people’s posts referring to hamas as a “resistance movement” and calls to boycott starbucks and mcdonald’s and condemnation of the “zionist media” etc etc etc. what pulled me out of it wasn’t any one thing— if someone had directly called me on my flawed logic and antisemitic biases while i was in this mindset, i doubt it would have done much, just reinforced my belief that i was on the “right side of history” and zionists were aggressors who couldn’t be reasoned with. it was mostly just passive observance and a slow exposure to other perspectives. i’m pretty sure the first post that led me to question my thinking was an ask on jewish-vents, which popped up on my dash in like, late july. this led me down another rabbithole, first scouring every single post on jewish-vents, then moving on to more popular jewish blogs that i had seen on “zionist blocklists” (applesauce42069, xclowniex, and spacelazarwolf were probably some of the blogs that influenced me the most, though i told myself i was just hate-scrolling at first, lol). i felt incredibly guilty seeing all the harm the movement i was a part of had caused to random jews and israelis just trying to live their lives and i realized how it went against everything i believed about how minority groups should be treated. from there, the aspect of actually undoing my thinking and changing my behavior for the better still took several weeks. denial of jewish indigenity to the levant in the face of tantamount archeological and cultural evidence was the first to go, as well as any ambiguity in my feelings about hamas. after that, it’s mostly been a slow process of redefining the idf’s actions from a “genocide” to a “war.” i still believe that what’s happening in gaza is unconscionable and horrific, and that too many innocent civilians have died, but i also understand how difficult it is to fight against a terrorist group that systematically embeds itself in civilian populations, and that the ratio of militant to civilian deaths is incredibly low compared to most urban warfare. i quietly deleted my old blog in early august— if i had directly engaged in harassment against jews, i likely would have kept it to make amends to the harmed parties and put a face to my actions, but as was, i had just contributed to the larger atmosphere of antisemitism on this site, and i felt uncomfortable knowing that i had a blog full of sentiments that no longer matched my values and beliefs. i decided i would be better if i took my endorsement out of the equation entirely, because when you’re looking through the notes of a post, it obviously doesn’t matter if someone who’s reblogged it no longer agrees with what was said— their notes still count as tacit approval, and i did not want approval of this “activism” attached to my online presence. i still have unwanted kneejerk reactions that crop up sometimes, particularly around the fundraiser posts from people “in gaza”; even though i know logically that they have all the markers of scams, there is still a part of me that really wants to believe i could help.

[juniemunie]

Hee hoo more of the fam! ( ≧ᗜ≦)

Ft ideas:

-Error having Geno's glitches when hes unstable (and maybe even his eye melting,,, tho you rarely get to see it)

- PJ's comfort food is just some weird concoction Ink and Error made thats just error's strings and purple paint and called it "homemade ramen"

It sounds so dumb but its probably a really good healing item for him if he lost his strings=structure somehow.

-Gradient and Error communicate through puppets. Both of them are too socially awkward when face to face so this is for the best lmfao

-Ink building lil mini metatton robots!! Did you know his dad taught him how to build machines and studying astrophysics? Its so he learns to be less dependent on his paints and powers. I wish ppl draw him doing stuff like this more ; w ;

Error by @/loverofpiggies

PJ is by @/7goodangel

Gradient is by @/askcomboclub

Ink by @/comyet

[screwpinecaprice]

Just a silly guy, with silly silly thoughts.

@glowweek Day 2

Casual | Surprise

A casual surprise?😬😬😬

[inkz123]

My apolocheese, im so error starved it became spicy ; ; its his shower after a long days work of au destroying :]👍

[somegrumpynerd]

Ah yes, very mature indeed

I love these two getting far enough into their truce to annoy each other playfully, Dream is great at it immediately but it's good to see Nightmare starting to take part too

And don't worry, Dream did get revenge

[furfurfrou]

I've managed to beat up the train blorbos in the pasio subway extreme battles. Here's the ending cutscene that plays out for those who couldn't make it this far:

Ingo and Emmet I love you very much but I'm going to have to beat you with hammers for the nonsense you just put me through