#to the other anon in my inbox

[absoloutenonsense]

Hi!! So I saw an update account posted about louis liking perrie's ig post and I was like 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 why do I feel like I just recently read a fic about louis and perrie being best friends and then I remembered that it was yours!!! They should be bff irl too hahah

I hope you have a great day <3

omg that’s so funny. They’re great FBI partners, I agree they’d be great bffs 😅

[cacaocheri]

they do sappy shit like this all the time

[hyruling]

number 50 for the prompts! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

50. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

—

“You’re staring.”

He is. Has been, all night, and apparently finally been caught.

They’re in the kitchen, again, and Buck is watching him, flushed from the alcohol they’ve been drinking and the exertion of the game of charades that got a little too rowdy. Everyone else is in the living room, clustered around Bobby like a herd of elephants protecting their young, and when Buck got up to refill the snacks Eddie unfolded himself from the armchair and followed.

So yeah, he’s been staring. As if it’s his fault. Buck is wearing that cardigan that pulls tight across his chest and makes his eyes look stupidly blue. He’s forgone any hair product, curls bouncy and so touchable it’s been driving him crazy all night. And Bobby is in his house, something he thought he’d never get to see again. Chris is home, tucked away in his room with Denny and Mara and probably Jee, entertaining themselves away from the embarrassing adults. The world is right again, and pleasantly fuzzy from all the wine Karen’s been plying him with all night.

And Buck. He’s already mentioned the cardigan, and the hair, but Buck has been in his element tonight. Full of laughter, the spirit Eddie was worried had been broken forever repaired and thriving. He’s been fluttering around the house, refilling drinks and serving food with a bright smile that he can’t get enough of.

Buck’s glancing over at him now, hands busy with re-plating a charcuterie board. He has a soft smile just for Eddie, and it makes him a little nauseous with how painfully in love with him he is. How stupid he’s been to have wasted so much time pretending he wasn’t.

“Earth to Eddie?” Buck says, grin widening into something teasing.

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, settling against the counter behind him while Buck works at the island. He fiddles with his wineglass, nearly empty, and watches Buck cut up a block of gouda cheese. He’s pushed the sleeves of the cardigan to his elbows, forearms flexing, and Eddie can’t quite make himself look away.

“I said you’re staring,” Buck repeats with a little laugh. “Did you follow me in here just to watch, or are you gonna help?”

“I’m fine right here,” Eddie answers, delighting in Buck’s eye roll, the blush that creeps into his cheeks. “It’s a good view.”

Buck goes crimson, drops the block of cheddar he’d been about to slice. “Eddie. You can’t say that kind of shit when I have a knife in my hand.”

“Why?” Eddie teases, and the back of Buck’s neck turns red. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders how far it spreads. “Does it make you flustered, Buckley?”

He knows it does. But that certainty was hard earned, having spent weeks agonizing over living in such close quarters with Buck, telling himself all kinds of stories about why his heart raced when their hands brushed over the coffee pot, convinced Buck must not feel the same way. Until his tía had walloped him upside the head, metaphorically speaking, a few weeks in and told him to lock Buck down before it was too late.

In her own words, of course.

He suspects she had a similar conversation with Buck, given the way he’d come inside after seeing her to her car, red-faced and avoiding Eddie’s eyes. They’d stuttered and tiptoed around each other for a few days before settling back into their normal, which Eddie had finally come to realize was not most people’s normal.

“I—shut up,” Buck says, and picks up the cheese.

But now that he’s started, he can’t help himself. Fueled by three and a half glasses of wine, and the profound joy that’s bursting to spill out of his ribcage, he inches closer until his hip presses into the island right next to Buck.

Buck goes briefly rigid but recovers quickly — Eddie wouldn’t even have noticed the slip if he wasn’t watching him so closely. He keeps slicing cheese methodically, eyes fixed determinedly on his hands.

“Looking a little flushed there, bud,” Eddie says. “Too much wine?”

Buck huffs and flushes harder. “I only had two glasses. What’s that, your fourth?”

“You monitoring my drinking?” Eddie asks, and Buck chuckles.

“Only cause I know you’ll have a massive headache later,” Buck replies. “Good thing I stocked up on Excedrin last week.”

He finishes the cheese and starts in on some sausage, unwrapping it from the plastic, and Eddie can’t resist.

“Nice sausage you got there.”

Buck chokes on spit and drops the knife, turning to face Eddie at last. “Eddie. What is this?”

“What?” Eddie asks innocently. He’s too drunk to properly flirt, never flirted with a man before and is rusty nonetheless; but Buck is responding beautifully, in a way that he knows only he could tease out of him.

“You’re complimenting my sausage?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s a nice one, that’s all. Thick, firm. I’d like to taste it—”

Buck’s hand covers his mouth, cutting him off, and his blood sings from the contact, from Buck flush against him, so close he could count his eyelashes. He barely resists the urge to lick his hand.

“Eddie,” Buck says in a low, plaintive voice that’s doing nothing to calm down his dick, which is not uninterested in the sudden lack of personal space. “You gotta—you know what you’re doing. Don’t—don’t be mean.”

And that—he knows then that they’re not on equal footing, that Buck is still operating under the illusion that Eddie’s not attainable, not already his. That the uptick in Eddie’s heated stares, his hand on Buck’s lower back while he’s cooking, the hip checks at the bathroom sink, have not communicated as clearly as he thought how much he wants this.

So Eddie nods, still silenced by Buck’s hand, and purses his lips until Buck can feel them against his palm. Buck snags it back like he’s been burned, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Buck,” Eddie says softly. He picks up Buck’s hand and presses another kiss to his knuckles, keeping his eyes fixed on Buck’s. “I do know what I’m doing.”

Buck looks lost, staring at him the way he had when Eddie appeared amongst the rubble and dust weeks ago — like he’s a ghost, like he’d never seen him before.

“A-are you sure? Because Eddie, I can’t—”

Eddie closes the scant distance between them, catches Buck’s jaw in one hand, and kisses him.

Buck doesn’t kiss him back at first, frozen in Eddie’s gentle grip — and then he’s making a soft, hurt sound and pulling Eddie closer, hands immediately snaking under his shirt to find the skin of Eddie’s back. His head spins when Buck’s tongue teases at his lips, and he tastes like wine and salt and—

“Buckaroo, what’s the hold up—oh.”

Buck rips away, putting nearly a foot of space between them, and Eddie laughs, giddy. Chim looks like the cat who got the cream when he turns around, face split into a wide grin.

“Whatcha doing gentlemen?” he asks with a snap his gum, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

Buck sputters behind him, but Eddie just shrugs and leans back until he feels Buck’s chest pressed against his back.

“Nothing really. I was just asking Buck about his sausa—”

Buck’s hand slaps over Eddie’s mouth again, pulling him tighter against his chest with the move, and Chim howls out a laugh.

“I knew it!” he cries, clapping his hands together and spinning around. “Maddie! You owe me fifty bucks!”

“Hey!” Buck calls, but it’s too late — Chim’s gone.

Eddie does lick Buck’s hand then, and Buck releases him with a squeal. Eddie turns around and chuckles at Buck’s red face, staring at him helplessly. He can’t help but lean up to press a kiss to his flushed cheek, stroking over the other with a gentle thumb.

“We’re about to be swarmed,” Eddie says. He can already hear exclamations and shrieks coming from the living room and knows they have seconds before their little bubble is shattered. “I love you, and I mean it. And I really can’t wait to try your sausage.”

Buck snorts and drops his head to press against Eddie’s forehead, eyes brimming with what look like tears. Eddie thumbs a stray one away with the hand on his cheek. “Eddie, I—I love you so much, it’s—I—”

“What have we here?”

It’s Hen that breaks them apart this time. Buck’s smiling sheepishly over Eddie’s shoulder, and when Eddie turns, he sees at least four people trying to crowd in the doorway, the rest cloistered behind them in the dining room. Buck sighs, and drops a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head before beckoning them in.

“Alright. Get in here, you animals.”

Like a dam breaking their family descends, pouring into every nook and cranny, and Eddie swears his kitchen has never felt so warm.

—

prompts xo

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[emry-stars-art]

Can I be cheeky and ask for some more tiny jellyfish Neil? I love him so much. In my pocket.

In your pocket!

[bennetsbonnet]

In that post about Joe Wright avoiding bonnets in p&p 2005 for being “too clichéd” (wtf), you said “and the disdain he clearly has for said author which manifests in various ways”. Could you elaborate on that? (asking only out of interest, not disagreement)

Absolutely (the post anon refers to) it's always a pleasure! Though I will say before starting, I'm not bashing 2005 for the sake of it and no one is "wrong" for enjoying it. For me, it's not about fan wars/arguing about which adaptation is best... I just really care about Pride and Prejudice as a novel and I get frustrated when the beautiful, timeless story is distorted!

My main problem with the 2005 adaptation is how much it misrepresents the characters and changes the speech from the snappy, witty dialogue that Jane Austen wrote into something entirely different. Not only do I believe that it does not need updating for C21st audiences (though it might sound a little strange to the modern ear at first,you quickly get used to it) but that dialogue is what really stood out to me and charmed me when I first read it and I don't care for it being rewritten into either something that is either worse than what is found in the novel, or entirely changes the characterisation.

The one that particularly irks me is Darcy's 'bewitched me body and soul' dialogue as, to me, book!Darcy's confession to Elizabeth of when he fell in love with her:

'I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.'

is so beautiful and romantic. Why change that? Additionally, this man is not awkward, he can make romantic speeches, he doesn't need to trip over telling her he loves her. And I've previously discussed here why I think Darcy saying he is bewitched by Elizabeth is out of character.

There are many such cases in the film, but that is amongst the worst to me, perhaps only alongside Darcy's first proposal and how much Lady Catherine's visit and confrontation was watered down (and why did it take place in the middle of the night???).

I suppose he didn't write the script so perhaps I cannot blame him entirely for that... but it goes beyond dialogue, to how the actors were directed and the contempt shown for the period it was set in, which is bizarre when making a period drama.

I think it's quite apparent that JW desperately wanted to make Pride and Prejudice into a Brontësque romance with sweeping landscapes and dramatic weather. I suppose you can argue he did that successfully, but it came entirely at the expense of it being the story that Jane Austen wrote. There are lighthearted, humorous moments too but very few of them feature dialogue actually written by Austen ('what excellent boiled potatoes' springs to mind).

He misunderstood and consequently misrepresented Elizabeth and Darcy's dynamic to the point that they are hardly recognisable to the characters Jane Austen created. 2005!Darcy is so painfully shy and pathetic, that when contrasted with such an impertinent and sarcastic Elizabeth, it just seems like she's bullying a smol bean who struggles in social situations. You cannot emphasise Elizabeth's sassiness while making Darcy such a pathetic specimen, it just doesn't work. She isn't the witty, charming character from the novel anymore.

The period inaccuracy is absolutely baffling in ways beyond costumes, beyond the lack of bonnets and that one scene where one of the sisters is having her corset tied so tightly. For me, the worst offences are:

The bleachers at the Meryton assembly. Not only wildly historically inaccurate but makes Elizabeth look like a gossip and an eavesdropper, rather than an innocent party insulted by a rich snob.

The pig running through Longbourn and generally everything about Longbourn itself. The Bennets are not on the same level of wealth as Darcy and Bingley but they are not some poor farmers, with a scruffy house. Elizabeth is very much of the same class as Darcy.

Chatsworth is absolutely, definitively NOT Pemberley. It is explicitly mentioned in the text as featuring in their tour of the Peaks so consequently it CANNOT be Pemberley. It's far too grand an estate for an untitled gentleman. Darcy is rich but Chatsworth is another level.

I care about this because the landscaping is not at all correct as it's very artificial, whereas Pemberley is renowned for its natural beauty. It might not seem like much but it really is a huge part of why Elizabeth fell for him!

Another reason Chatsworth shouldn't have been used is because Elizabeth seeing a portrait of Darcy and looking into his eyes rather than a bust with holes is crucial, as I explained here.

This is all disappointing but I do feel like I could get over it if the characterisation was adequate. Unfortunately, I barely recognise any of them.

Mr Bennet is not a cute fatherly figure. Him not accompanying them to the Meryton assembly is a plot point to underscore his bone idleness. Yes, his relationship with Elizabeth is very sweet and he loves her a lot... but that does not a good father make!

The total character assassination of Mr Bingley... who is not a clueless himbo. As if Jane Bennet would ever fall for a man like that, or Jane Austen would ever write a character like that (except to be the object of ridiculue).

I do not know in what universe Charlotte Lucas, the pragmatic voice of reason would say 'we are all fools in love.' And the 'I'm 27 years old' monologue is just not something I can ever picture her saying... she wasn't a frightened, timid little creature whatsoever.

Wickham isn't bad enough. What he did to Georgiana is blink and you'll miss it, and when he returns with Lydia, Elizabeth glares at him a bit and that's it? The elopement is also resolved very quickly, there is no real tension with it.

The key story beats are butchered too. Especially the letter, not just in how short it is but in the way Darcy hands it to Elizabeth. I think I remember reading something about how JW couldn't imagine how Darcy would be in the room with her, so he just made it like a dream sequence... aka he put his own creative desires over what's in the novel, when Darcy seeking Elizabeth out to hand it to her is very important. Not least, because it shows the length he's prepared to go to in order to set the record straight as it was breaking social convention for a man to write a letter like that to a woman he wasn't related to or engaged to.

That quote, among others, just shows he had a desire to do things differently and it seems to be because he thinks he can do it 'better.' It's bizarre because why bother adapting a classic which is anchored to its time when you blatantly have disdain for it? It's like doing a war film without army uniforms and guns.

Everything I've read from him, he just seems like a smug film bro that believes that he got it 'right' and people had been Missing The Point the entire until he came along. No, you weren't onto anything new. There are certain things, like bonnets, that tend to be in period dramas. And Jane Austen is very literal with her meanings, for the most part. There isn't a new way to interpret her works.

For a film entitled Pride and Prejudice there isn't a great deal of pride or prejudice... it's really just a poor shy boi, who stands there and fidgets with his gloves while not saying anything, and his girlboss, who uses towels that have been getting wet on the line outside to dry herself after coming in from a rainstorm.

[heilos]

I keep getting multiple messages in a row about "When's the next Mystery Skulls video coming out" Can you please not? I've already answered this before and we have an open and unlocked patreon with monthly updates that get posted here as well.

[valtsv]

idk who that other anon is but i actually sent the prose ask? i said i loved your prose why that be a hate ask

oh my god that's so funny??? stolen hate anon valour...

[mattsundaes]

it’s been a minute since you’ve **** kinked anyone, and you’ve been meian thirsting >.> how does our friendly giant feel about it?

meian shugo — 18+, watersports, desperation play, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie

a concept: you're sleeping with older brother's best friend!meian. who already has to live with the guilt of keeping this secret from your brother.

and now, with this, he feels like he's treading a more dubious line than ever as he wavers between the tidal wave of guilt over corrupting you even further and the fucked up desire to see just how far you'll go.

because it starts off as an accident.

you're splayed out in his bed still half asleep one morning, legs spread for him as he chuckles at your soft moans and gently fingers you awake (because you woke him up grinding against his thigh).

and you're so pliant, so lost in a tired haze of pleasure that you don't even notice it at first—the warm dribble of piss that suddenly leaks out of you. not until meian's fingers pause for a moment, still half-lodged in the slick heat of your cunt as he murmurs, "fuck, that's hot."

eyes flying open, you shift your body in embarrassment, but your bladder's so full that it only serves to send another squirt of piss splashing down his wrist. meian groans, dragging his wet thumb over your swollen clit.

it stops there that time—he lets you scurry off to the bathroom to relieve yourself. but he can't stop thinking about it.

you don't question the new blanket that appears on meian's bed a week later. not until half asleep, lazy kisses turn into needy moans and his fingers between your legs. not until you mumble something about needing to pee, and meian says against your mouth, "just go."

"but i—"

"go for me," he murmurs, one hand pushing up your tank top to caress your abdomen as he inserts the middle finger of the other into your slick hole.

"meian, i seriously have to go—"

"i know you do," he kisses the corner of your mouth, thumb catching on your bellybutton before sliding lower, pressing down just enough to make you gasp at the urgency sloshing around in your bladder.

he slides another finger inside of you, forehead pressed against your own as he hovers over your form.

the new blanket is soft against your bare ass, and you unconsciously let your thighs fall further apart, hips bucking slightly into the slow, steady thrust of meian's long, thick fingers in and out of your throbbing cunt.

"do it."

this time when you let go, it's not just an accidental dribble of piss. it's a hot spray, one that soaks meian's fingers as you let out a shocked cry at how good it feels. your cunt spasms as he finger fucks you through it, your entire body shaking with a downpour of liquid pleasure so intense, you can hardly tell the difference between pissing and cumming as it all ricochets through you in tune with your sobbing moans.

meian's not particularly proud of himself for the way he contributes to this newfound kink after—the way he gives you glasses of water that you certainly don't need. the careful way he watches you drink them down, throat bobbing with each sip.

the way his eyes meet yours with a knowing look when you and your brother and your friends are all sitting in his living room and he tosses you a bottle of water you didn't ask for. the upturn of the corner of his mouth when your thighs start to clench together. the subtle shake of his head when your eyes dart toward the bathroom.

the way he always finds an excuse to get everyone out of the house by the time you're on the verge of bursting—even your brother. he can't close his front door fast enough after the last person leaves, rushing upstairs to find you waiting for him in his bed, skirt pushed up and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you reach the upper limits of your desperation.

usually, it only takes a few pumps of meian's fingers before you're dribbling and spraying all over his hands and the blanket, face buried in a pillow as you come for him in a violent wave of pleasure. usually, he fucks you after, his cock already hard from your whimpers of pleasure as you let go for him, your tight walls dripping and slick enough for him to plunge right in—

usually.

until—

until meian's got the blanket spread out on right there on his couch and tugs you right into his lap before you can scurry off upstairs. until he's gently urging you to finish your water while you're cockwarming him, his hands caressing your hips, thumbs stroking your abdomen with just enough pressure to make you twitch with each pass.

"hold it until you can't," he murmurs into a kiss, petting your hair.

your bladder screams in protest at the fat stretch of his cock in your tight walls, cunt shuddering with bursts of pleasure and discomfort and need.

"and then what?" you breathe out, fingers carding through the short hair at the back of his neck.

meian smiles. "what do you think?"

for all the pleasure of letting go with meian's fingers slotted inside of you, it doesn't compare to the white-hot bliss that sears your veins to your very core as warm dribbles of piss begin to leak out of you unbidden while your cunt's stuffed full of his thick cock.

"i can't hold it anymore," you whimper into the crook of his neck. his skin's covered in a salty sheen of sweat that you unconsciously begin to lave at with your tongue.

meian rubs soothing circles into your back as he feels more piss leak into his lap, one hand sliding up the side of your neck and cupping your jaw as he brings his mouth to yours. "good girl."

tears of relief slide down your cheeks as he rocks his hips up until you, your greedy walls sucking in every inch of his cock as it slowly plunges in and out of you with a slick, filthy, wet squelch.

"i know you have to go more than that," meian murmurs, thumb stroking your clit. "you drank so much water today."

"it feels so good," you hiccup, dizzy as you lift your hips to try and ride his cock, only for your thighs to shake uncontrollably with pleasure so intense you can hardly lower yourself back down without whimpering.

"i know, baby," meian breathes out. "so let it all go for me. let me feel it."

your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave as you release, pissing all over meian's cock, fingers clawing at his back as you whine and moan and shake and cum so hard you nearly pass out.

(it's a feeling only rivalled by one thing later, when you eventually feel brave enough to mumble in your post-orgasmic haze that you want to feel meian do it, too.

he strokes your overstimulated clit through it, groaning and gasping as he adds to the load of cum he already spilled inside of you, your cunt spasming with a fresh wave of pleasure at the feeling of hot piss flooding your tight hole.

you climax again for him like that, pussy a filthy mess of cum and piss as meian licks his way into your mouth.)

[necrotic-nephilim]

bruce and alfred: *thinking they managed to tag team jason into staying the night at the manor* 🤡

tim: *just existing as tantalizing eye candy for jason* 😒

jason: 😏

help i love this i'm cackling-

i think it's funnier if Tim also doesn't know and half the fun for Jason is getting to stare down Tim and make Tim wonder what on earth is going through Jason's head. he'd probably assume it's an intimidation tactic, or Jason thinking about all the ways he wants to kill Tim. it's delightful miscommunication of Tim being wary around Jason, always expecting a fight. and Jason damn well knows it, but he does nothing to correct Tim's assumption. He likes seeing Tim tense and ready to throw hands at a moment's notice. Jason just likes seeing what Tim is capable of, knowing how dangerous the little rich kid is. he wants to see how long he can stare before Tim breaks and asks him what his problem is.

and of course, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick are obvious. Cass is curious but not interfering because she just wants to see where this goes. Bruce is so caught up in the happiness of Jason finally playing nice for once pulling his punches and being willing to listen to Bruce that he's overlooking the obvious tension. Jason hasn't actually hurt Tim yet, so Bruce can't get mad for a little staring. he reminds Tim to just not sink to Jason's level.

when Tim does break and he does call Jason out for it, Jason just makes a lewd comment. just to throw Tim off and see how Tim reacts. it sends Tim sputtering and doubting Jason. he calls Jason's bluff and well. we all know how that ends.

[ask2ps]

i really wanna bite a biggg chunk out of 2p italyy

JAPAN: (For some reason, the inbox bugged, and only this message was visible. Quite sinister.) JAPAN: (Please refrain from hexing us in the future.)

[dayas]

lavenders green, lavenders blue

one masquerade changes the course of elphaba thropp’s life forever.

or, alternatively, an (un)official cinderella au.

out on ao3 !

[floweycidal]

hey op i know youre insane over flowey so i thought id share my brain with you

have we considered the chara parallels in undertale yellows neutral run? as in. how flowey is pissed that midway through the plan clover went back on it? how flowey probably said something that chara said in the moment frustrated? im ill.

HEY OP I KNOW YOU’RE INSANE OVER FLOWEY HAHAHA INSANE START /SILLY

ah, yes, yes! you've come to the right place. please, make yourself at home. i’ll handle your brain with the utmost care.

OUDHUHGH YUUUP, we've (me, myself, and i) absolutely considered all that. and more!

but see, i personally never thought that was all there is to it. it would’ve been far too facile, much too pat, to assume chara had just... snapped at him in their final moments. that they’d cursed his name, branded him a traitor, made their hatred crystal clear.

oh, how delightfully clean that would’ve been for him. because then he’d get his closure, wouldn’t he? an answer, wrapped up all pretty just for him.

"i betrayed them. they loathed me for it. the end."

HA! too polished for my liking. no thanks. closure is reserved for those who can find resolution. and flowey, my son who's got everything wrong with him, has never been one to receive that kind of accord. he doesn't get straightforward, not then, not now, not ever.

in my head, flowey woke up in that garden with gaping holes in his memory of the incident. not total oblivion—never that generous. instead, it was bits and pieces. just enough to know. enough to understand that it was his fault. his frailty. his failure that brought him to this point.

but chara's last moments? their final utterance? those are lost to him. gone. TORN.

he never gets that confirmation. or, more precisely… he doesn’t remember. can’t remember. mwhahaha…

what does spring to mind, however, is the terror. the detestation that wracked their shared body. the oppressive shame that pervaded every step he didn't take. 

but then... at the time... who was feeling what exactly? who blazed with fury, and who broke beneath it? did someone beg? did someone weep? was it him? was it chara? who was hating whom in those parting moments? the harder he tries to remember, the further it slips away.

and because flowey's never met a void he didn’t try to fill, he does what he’s always excelled at. he patches the blanks. projects, narrates. 

his guilt demands a story, and so he obliges. in his version, every foul emotion, every drop of vitriol, was aimed squarely at him. how could it not have been?

chara MUST have surely thought he was an idiot. a weak, cowardly, sniveling idiot. a pathetic creature who couldn’t even get one plan right. couldn’t even die properly!

the self-blame constricts him like a vice, and with every reset, the narrative grows more discordant. he doesn’t just wonder if chara felt let down, he KNOWS they did. feels "their" revulsion rooted in his stem, their disappointment rotting his petals from the inside out with every cycle.

when clover comes along, he's elated. this is his shot at a fresh start. a second chance. the perfect subject for redemption, for forgiveness by proxy. his very own moment to fix everything, to prove that he’s changed. gone were the days when any plan was doomed with him around. this time, he was going to make it work. are you looking, chara?

but when clover hesitates... wavers the way he once did... flowey FREAKS.

he doesn’t see clover anymore. he sees HIM. he doesn’t hear his own voice, either. he hears the chara he’s created. the version that exists only in the cruel theater of his own mind. the variation that would never absolve him. that would never understand. that would only revile him.

the words he chucks at clover are the same accusations he believes chara would have spat at him, the same venom he’s already used to poison himself.

the words fall into insignificance, though, because much like the first time, the plan fell apart regardless of whether he condemned asriel clover or not.

all he was left with now was his certainty. chara HATED him.

and they were right to.

[velvetwyrme]

now that we established vehicle prostitution and brothels in tf, WHO would go there?

OH MY GOD

hi apologies this took forever for me to reply to but hey. whatever.

part 1 - part 2 - ask that preempted this

I have Less Thoughts about this mostly because I've been busy thinking about other things and these are getting more and more specific so the numbers keep dwindling. that being said. notes under the cut.

Frenzy, Rumble, Jazz and Bumblebee were in the comic so jot them down. Thundercracker was also mentioned (implied to be the reason R&F found the dealership in the first place.) TCs there for both cars AND the humans though. Starscream would go to the Hangar version, because he wouldn't fuck a car BUT I think he'd fuck a plane.

Sideswipe is banned. Nobody has told Megatron about it but you can bet he'd be there if he knew.

Somewhere out there, in the vast multiverse theres a universe where the Scavengers star in their own TV show and I fully believe that there's an episode where they all go to a car dealership and shenanigans ensue. Misfire falls in love with a car there.

Originally the comic was going to end with Rumble and Frenzy going inside the dealership on another night (can't exactly go when there's obviously Autobots around...) only to get surprised by the one and only Optimus Prime, but then i was like. i don't actually think he'd go to one of these. (unless someone convinced him that itd be improving human-Cybertronian relations maybe sgfjfbdjdb)

Honestly if it were a more organised thing that you can Go To, I reckon you can probably add more bots to the "would they fuck a car" roster. I could list them but i'm gonna sleep actually. YOU guys can tell ME who you think would go to the dealership-slash-brothel but wouldn't go fuck a car off the street fhdmfbdmfbk

[tambourine-xx]

No, what?? I didn��t draw this!! I didn’t draw this! *I say as green and orange highlighters fall out of my pockets -my gross disgusting green and orange fanart for @seranstuff ‘s mental hospital au… you’ll need to put me in next for the chokehold it has me in *sobs*

[yallmakemyassitch]

Lee Sabastion and Ler Kiko?

Gladly anon, besides I haven't done a request in a while, so this was quite refreshing to do

A Single Scritch

This piece was quite experimental and I really enjoyed getting the textures and values down within the image. Hopefully this satisfies the Sebastian itch everyone has been collectively having, including me, lol!

Anyways, more Kiko x Sebastian art coming soon okay have a nice morning fellas 🩷