#she would like em

[whollyjoly]

look we all want buck in tommys hoodie....

but i raise you a tommy who accidentally grabbed bucks hoodie and walks into harbour only to have lucy laugh so hard she falls out of her chair

[taxinealkaloids]

behold hitherto unposted htn doodles! harrow+her terrible mentor, harrow+her terrible roommate

[beif0ngs]

Buggy the Clown || Anime vs. Live Action comparison shots 

[bxnnie-bxwl]

Do you think your evil!bonnie and Circus Baby would get along or would they have each other?

Love your art btw it’s super cool!☺️❤️

omg... i think circus baby would find him weird and assume he as rabies KDSFGSDJH

and thank you so so much!!! <3333

bonus:

[kagooleo]

my main reasoning for timeskip!silv having long hair is for the sole purpose of dragon baby storage

the modern pokeworld’s medusa if you will

[brighteuphony]

I love Chiyo- and I kind of headcanon her as a Witch of the Woods (Sands???) archetype- a bitter old woman who has sacrificed too much, experienced and committed more atrocities than anyone can imagine, and who knows the truth about what lies in the hearts of men to live among the villages anymore.

In my AU she's got a pretty dark backstory. Back in time when Villages were just getting established, women weren't allowed to be shinobi in the same capacity as men. There was too much warring and death among the clans to risk women, so they were only ever allowed to serve as spies or medics. (Chiyo started off as a medic).

And like any military/fascist dictatorship, serving the state was more important than anything else- so women who were kunoichi were given missions to steal and return with powerful bloodlines. Even before villages, this was a common fear among clans (which is why so many of them have protective measures and inbreed/arrange matches very carefully).

Chiyo was one such woman, who took a X-rated mission in her youth because she was told it would 'serve her nation'. There was a powerful bloodline whose Kekkei Genkai could harden sand to something akin to Steel- something Suna very desperately wanted.

Chiyo succeeded in her mission, but despite the veneer of 'serving your nation', when she returned, she was considered, in her words, "Just another whore."

Then when her son didn't manifest the bloodline- it was worse, but Chiyo was happy because that meant her son was HERS. (This is when she met Enji, and he saved her son's life at great cost- so Chiyo owes him a blood/life debt.)

Then the war came, and they needed women to fight so now serving the nation meant something different, and Chiyo became a full fledged 'shinobi' and turned her healing towards poison and death- especially when she had to fight the Salamander.

Then she sealed Gaara and that was the atrocity straw that broke the camel's back and she dipped out Suna and retired to an oasis. She's still a healer, but adamantly refuses to serve shinobi.

Once again, thank you so much for these asks and all the support for this AU?

@youngpeacearbiter

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either. 

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door. 

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other. 

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space. 

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?” 

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response. 

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine. 

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway. 

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.” 

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.” 

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV. 

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold. 

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this. 

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras. 

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth. 

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you. 

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you. 

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm. 

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.” 

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.” 

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back. 

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you. 

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing. 

Then it was your turn to gasp. 

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck. 

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure. 

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

[puppyeared]

i like him

[sluckythewizard]

YOU JUST HƎARD IT FROM [HIS MOUTH] FOR SURƎ!!!

[ahalliance]

qétoiles n qbagz’ convo about his code arm + fun banter from last sunday :] english subs + transcript below da cut

[Video transcript:

Etoiles: But yesterday when he [Forever] talked to me, he was so frightened, basically he was like, ‘But one day won’t you lose your shit and want to kill the Eggs with the Code, and everything?’ Though I was telling him, ‘But the fact is, I know the Code very well’—

Baghera: Oh, so you told him you joined—?

Etoiles: No, no, no, not at all. It’s just that he has these assumptions that I’m really allied to the Code because—

Baghera: I think it’s due to your Code tattoo, also, it gives off the impression you’re in the process of transforming into a Code, Etoiles, let’s not lie.

Etoiles: That’s it, that’s it. But, basically I told him that I’ve had it since—

Baghera: But you don’t give a shit? You’re taking it well?

Etoiles: Well, yeah, I don’t give a shit because I know he’ll never beat me. Basically I—

Baghera: But you don’t give a shit about the code literally popping up over your body?

Etoiles: Well, yeah, because it’s a part of me now. It’s normal.

Baghera: How?

Etoiles: Well, after— after fighting someone 17 times, you start— you start creating links. But those links—

Baghera: But— you know that’s not how things work. Like— look, we cross paths. Right now we’re crossing paths. You see? We’re crossing paths. I kick your ass. Like, for free. You see? I see you, I’m like, ‘Bro, I don’t like his face,’ so I kick your ass.

Etoiles: But no! Because if you tell me ‘Good fight’ at the end—

Baghera: I see you again— wait, I’m not finished. I see you again like 12 times, and I tell myself, ‘Hey, I’ll do it again,’ I kick your ass again. After a while, Rayou, I won’t get diabetes!

Etoiles: Well, maybe you will, huh.

Baghera: Yes, but it’s not— it doesn’t work, like— there’s no correlation, you see!

Etoiles: You know you won’t have those cells anymore, you know, it’s possible.

Baghera: But— no— what I mean is— Etoiles! That’s now how it works! It’s worrisome! It’s normal for us to worry!

Etoiles: Well, yeah, but, uhhh. Basically, you’re all used to talking with me on the island. And you understand very well that there’s nothing able to corrupt me.

Baghera: That we don’t know, Etoiles! Because— if it’s— I know that your morality, and your enormous brain, and your big body, won’t get corrupted. But if there’s suddenly— well, what I mean is that we don’t know what all the possible systems of manipulation on the island are.

Etoiles: It’s true. No, it’s true. But for the moment I’m doing well.

Baghera: Yeah, well, so much the better. But—

Etoiles: For the moment I’m doing well!

Baghera: If you feel any change, Etoiles, mention it, okay?

Etoiles: Oh, I’ll talk about it. But for the time being I’m doing very well.

Baghera: So I can understand peoples’ fear upon seeing you LITERALLY transform into a Code and who tell themselves, ‘Oh, strange, maybe there’s a thing with the Codes.’

Etoiles: It’s true but who can better know the dangers of the Code than someone who’s confronted it his whole life? Instead of someone who—

Baghera: I’m well aware.

Etoiles: No but it’s— it’s— it’s for that reason that I told Forever. I totally understand the fear and everything, it’s normal. You see a dude turning into a Code, you ask yourself, ‘What’s the guy who sent him doing?’

Baghera: Well, yeah, there you go.

Etoiles: Like, ‘Who sent him?’

Baghera: But you don’t feel any different? Nothing?

Etoiles: Absolutely not, no. Everything is going well. I still hate the Code whenever I see him, I still want to kick his ass. Everything’s fine. Even if right now I want him—

Baghera: But you join up with them when he suggests it, yeah. Well, it’s to get the shield back.

Etoiles: It was just for the shield, believe me. Believe me, if I run into them again- if I run into them again and they don’t offer me things to save the Eggs and everything, it’s goodbye. And considering what I’ve prepared— considering what I’ve prepared, I objectively think that 5 Codes won’t be enough to kill me. There’ll need to be 10 of them.

Baghera: They might bring 10, huh.

Etoiles: Yeah, well, then again, we have time.

Baghera: Well, in any case, they don’t want to kill you anymore since you’re working with them.

Etoiles: Well, in fact, we’re not really— actually— I don’t really know what he’s thinking. Because the last time we talked I told them, ‘But if you lay even a finger on the Eggs, I’ll kick your fucking asses, you sacks of shit.’ And they left, and they didn’t answer me.

Baghera: Then again, they’re a bit cryptic, the Codes, you know.

Etoiles: Yeah, but normally they— I managed to talk with them a bit, so— so I don’t know. Personally, I’m telling you—

Baghera: Okay, no, what I mean is that I understand why when people see you they think, ‘Maybe it’s possible he’s getting a little bit corrupted by the Codes.’

Etoiles: No but yeah, yeah, I totally get it. But honestly, never. Never in a million years.

Baghera: I believe you! I trust you. But if there’s— if once you feel any difference or something of the sort, you mention it, okay? To whomever you want, but you mention it.

Etoiles: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (10000x)

Baghera: You know you’re not very reassuring when you say that, as an answer.

Etoiles: That’s true. But I’m telling you there’s no problem. And— actually. The moment I start feeling strange, I’ll put numbers. And so you’ll have to come get me.

Baghera: Okay, okay. I’ll remember that.

Etoiles: Just that. But I— I— yeah. I whisper in the Code’s ear.

Baghera: The day you start talking to me in binary, there’ll be an issue, basically.

Etoiles: The day I say, ‘10001’, that’s it. But actually, I’m telling you, I could never be corrupted because I have AVAST, my wool block which blocks viruses.

Baghera: That’s real, that’s real.

end video transcript.]

[mewguca]

Faded Memories

slivermoon pen doodle

[agardenofideas]

i hope sunny gets a villain arc if tubbo wont get one fully

like i need her to lash out at every single adult around her for not carring for her pa or her (looking at phil who offered to care for pomme and dapper when he wouldnt for sunny on tubbos Confirmed death), for no one taking her pa seriously, for taking things from them, from her pa until there was nothing left of him.

i need her to lash out at the adults for never seeing her pa hurting and thinking it wasnt serious, i need her to lash out in peoples faces how she had said they were worried for her pa and the adults just said hes like that or he'll get better and he didn't

i want her to lash out and reveal that tubbo said to her he felt more seen and cared about by a fed worker who was learning to have emotions than from any islander around

i want her to burn things, even if not a house and just a wood she placed down to set fire, i want her to do that, i want her to blow things up and lash out and be heard

cuz if being a good girl for her pa ends with them unheard and him dead then she will be heard now and once this thing called Creation gets her pa back to her, she is not letting him go

if any of the adults who didnt do anything to get him back cared for him in life and cared just a bit in death, they dont deserve to see her pa back again, he is sunny's and sunny's alone

i want sunny to spew vitrol and fire and to lash out at everyone, she deserves to go on a murderous rampage too as a treat

[kagooleo]

aside from my rice here’s a doodle dump of my timeskip johto kiddos all scribbled during classes! forgot to upload this some time ago but it's a mix of silly doodles, profile studies and outfit ideations 📝

[goatsghost]

i know this old news by now, but the fact that this issue could’ve been so cool if they actually took all the batkids’ strengths seriously and hadn’t taken out the two most op bats out in one punch — they really missed out on some amazing fight scenes

[oceanwithouthermoon]

long as fuck nails always painted with at least a clear coat club:

saiki kusuo

teruhashi kokomi

kaido shun

saiko metori

imu rifuta

nail biters club:

kuboyasu aren

yumehara chiyo

arisu makino

suzumiya hii

nendo riki

aiura mikoto (with fake nails over top)

(formerly) kaido shun

(formerly) toritsuka reita

(formerly) akechi touma

normal short nails 🙄:

hairo kineshi

mera chisato

satou hiroshi

toritsuka reita

akechi touma

[bigboobyhalo]

thinking about q!mouse design but she's all one solid color like BBH ... cuz I think she deserves to be creature-y too <3