I needed to use this audio with Terui this trio
Monterey Bay Aquarium

@theartofmadeline

Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Andulka
Jules of Nature

Product Placement
trying on a metaphor

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS

#extradirty
Cosimo Galluzzi

JBB: An Artblog!

Kiana Khansmith
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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wallacepolsom
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap

seen from Malaysia

seen from Hungary
seen from Malaysia

seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Thailand

seen from Morocco

seen from Germany
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@allenasleepsstuff
I needed to use this audio with Terui this trio
wrice doodles(+ not that important headcanon idea)
sebastian's dilemma.
sebastian has a problem. the nice farmer is being a little too nice. maybe he's just overthinking it?
word count- 808
Sebastian doesnβt know why he canβt focus.
Well, he does. It's you. You aggravate him. You annoy himβ always waltzing into his room asking if he needs anything. He doesnβt need anything, so why do you always give him gifts anyway? Sure, he appreciates his bowl of frozen tears (he made one into a necklace to wear, but youβd never see that.)Β
All of this would make sense as to why he canβt focus if you were there. Which you arenβt. Heβs thinking about you when youβre not even near him, and youβre probably doing some stupid farmer stuff. Maybe tending to your chickens and cows, and maybe harvesting crops. Maybe even chopping wood with your sturdy arms.Β
He pauses and realizes something. Heβs got a crush on you! The farmer! The stupid farmer who's nice to everyoneβ the stupid farmer who's always coming back from the mines nobody goes into with scratches and injuries galoreβthe stupid farmer who won the egg hunt over Abby somehow.Β
He canβt keep thinking about you right now, he has to work. Somehow, Sebastian can finish the rest of the page of code without thinking of you. Sort of. He thinks about how you donβt bother him when heβs working and how much he appreciates it. He stares at the analog clock on his deskβFive in the morning. He sighs and shuts off his computer, then takes off his hoodie to go to bed.Β
Itβs Friday. That means it's time to get drunk and kick Samβs ass at pool. Something's different this week, though. Sam and Abby are nursing their third beer of the night together and swaying to the music together.Β
Sebastian, however, is just staring at you. You had come in around twenty-odd minutes ago to give some eggs to Gus, but it seems you had been pulled into a drink or two with Pam. Youβre laughing, and heβs staring like a creep. Sam and Abby sneak up on Sebastian and begin to tease him.Β
βYouβre staring, Sebby,β Sam says while wrapping his arm around Sebastianβs shoulders and squishing his cheek. βYou like them,β he continues in a sing-songy voice.Β
βShut up,β he groans and shrugs Samβs hands off of him.
Abby then butts in, βHe does, He does!β she giggles while pointing between you and Sebastian. Hopefully, you donβt see the two drunkards being well, drunk, he thinks. Sebastian looks up for a moment to stare at you and quickly meets your eyes. You were already staring at him. Oh no. Now youβre walking over. Abby and Sam are pushing him towards you and nowβ
βHi,β you wave.
βHey,β he sways back and forth, looking everywhere but your face.Β
Theres a pause before you ask, βYou kicked Samβs ass again tonight?β followed by Sam grumbling something about βtaking it easy todayβ.
βHa. Um, yeah. Poolβs not exactly his strong point,β he said, still swaying back and forth on his toes. At some point, he finally meets your gaze.Β
βYouβre not normally here on Fridays. Or any days, I think,β he commented while staring at you.
βI was dropping off like, a hundred eggs for Gus and got stopped by Pam. She convinced me to have a drink,β you shrug, looking away from his gaze. Almost as if youβre just as shy around him as he is around you. Which you definitely arenβt.Β
βThatβs um, thatβs cool,β he shrugged. You lightly smile at him for a moment.
βCan I show you something outside?β you ask. Sebastian shoos away Abby and Sam's βoohsβ as he nods. You lead him outside of the saloon, both of your faces lit up by the streetlamps on the sidewalk. Sebastian really canβt help but stare. Suddenly, youβre reaching into your backpack and rummaging around, the clinks and clanks of your items and tools mashing together until he hears you say a little βaha!β and suddenly, a rainbow rock is out in your hands.Β
βItβs called a prismatic shard. Pretty rare,β you say, tilting it in the streetlights. Sebastianβs mouth is slightly open, like a little βoβ for a moment before he shakes his head and stares up at you again.Β
βHere.β You grab his hand and put the shard in it. βThink of it as an early birthday gift?β you say, staring at him.Β
βMy birthday isnβt until winter,β he responds, changing his focus from the prismatic shard to you and back to the prismatic shard. βUm, thank you.β you give him a light smile.Β
βWell, Iβve gotta head in for the night,β you respond. βIβll see you?β
βYeah,β he breathlessly says, βIβll see you.βΒ
When he goes back inside, Abby and Sam are gushing over the prismatic shard. They think it's a form of courtship. It couldnβt be, because youβre just the nice farmer who gives thoughtful gifts to everyone. Thatβs it.
Heβs fucked.
credits to @saradika-graphics for the dividers <33
Rainy day kinds of chats. Finni can relate to Sebastian more than the latter thinks.
been reworking my seb design to fit my characterization of him better heehee
HCs: asking TBHX characters to help you do your T-Shot
Hero X
X's surprise is evident enough when you ask. You feel a little silly asking someone with the power of the whole world at his fingertips, but also you can't think of anyone else you'd rather ask. He takes your request seriously, insisting that you hydrate well the day of.
When it comes to the injection, he gets onto his knees before you and, because he's a charmer underneath the surface, snaps. The world changes around you, becoming something nonsensical and vibrant every time. You're always so busy taking in the sights that you don't mind the shot at all.
Nice
When you ask Nice, it's like he rises to the challenge. There's a certain amount of pride in his agreement, a joy that it is him that has been asked and not someone else. When you walk him through all the steps, he watches with rapt attention. In his first attempt, he asks a dozen questions to make sure he's got it all down.
He's agile when he goes about the injection, talking to you as he does it. Telling you about his day, some kind of long trailing story that you have to pay attention to if you want to follow. By the time he finishes, you barely realize it's done.
Lin Ling
He's a bit shocked upon the initial ask, but when you finally admit how difficult it is, Lin Ling throws himself into helping you. Before you know it, he's watched a dozen tutorial videos, has taken notes, and has a sticky note reminder on his fridge to remind him of the day and time it needs to be done.
He does everything step by step, talking partly to you and partly to himself as he runs through it all. When it comes to doing the injection itself, the first few times he hesitates, but that quickly fades away.
Smile
He questions you when you ask, worried he's not the most qualified man for the job, but when you insist, he takes the responsibility like any other. You find out that he used his connections to go to the hospital and learn how to do it from a professional. Which is sweet if a bit overkill.
His smile never fades as he sets everything up, usually humming to himself as he does. When he does the shot he talks you through it, encouraging you with every second that passes until it's done. His voice always puts you at ease.
Ghostblade
Yi has never been particularly bothered by anything sharp so you don't hesitate to ask him if he can help you out. He picks up on the steps immediately, going through it all with a medical sort of precision. You don't even feel it anymore.
His neutrality doesn't mean he doesn't care, though; when it's finished, he always applies the bandage with such care, bringing your hand to his face to lean into your palm as he kneels before you. Even in his silence you can feel his affection.
Wreck
When you ask, Wreck points at himself like someone else is in the room. It takes some convincing to get him to believe that you genuinely need help, but once he agrees, he approaches it with a level of playful seriousness that always puts you at ease.
He plays music, often singing along as he sets everything up. You like to watch him sway to whatever song is blaring through the stereo. When he does the injection, he gets down on one knee and tells you to look him in the eye. The intensity of his gaze fades everything else away.
Boonboomger Formation Lap: The Informant's Secret Physical Release Bonus Pages (other pages and translations below)
So Courgamon always sleep outside of the missions so he doesn't have to consume so much of Kyo's E-Pulse πππ
Courgamon loving sleeping and Kyo hating waking up in the morning, this man craves rest but he overwork himself and feed more of 20+ babies with his fucking life force to the point of fainting ππ "he going to become bad or he will die" I think he is closer to the second one
AsuKyo/KyoAsu but just a bit unhinged
Ok, I started spiraling after the newest episode and started writing just like paragraphs upon paragraphs about Nice. Some may turn into fics, some may just die in my WIP graveyard. But I thought I'd post this tiny little snippet of something Nice because I NEED him to be happy and I need it now.
Nice always hated his bed.Β
He got more rest on the floor than he did in bed. When he was in bed, any movement he made could wrinkle the sheets, any sweat he produced could stain the pillows. Any wrong step and he was suffocating in his own blankets, his mind warring between wanting to rock himself to sleep and not wanting to move even a hair so as to not disturb the previously perfect state of the mattress. How was he supposed to be the perfect hero everyone thought he was when his sheets werenβt even smooth and his bedhair was a mess and his blankets were fraying at the end (probably from his endless fidgeting though he hated to admit it)? How was he supposed to fall asleep when all he could think about was if heβd be good enough tomorrow, if heβd stand tall enough tomorrow, if heβd smile bright enough tomorrow, if heβd be strong, if heβd be suave, if heβd be worth anyoneβs time? Or if he shouldβve stayed in his small town, kept to small dreams, bought a small house, lived out a small life.Β
Nice always hated his bed, but sometimes he didnβt know if he hated the bed more or the person sleeping in it.
But then he met you- a whirlwind of color on his blank, white canvas.Β
You, who insisted his blanket wasnβt fraying, it was βfringe.β You, who insisted his bed wasnβt wrinkled, it was βloved.β You, who made his pillows look more enticing than theyβd ever looked when your sleep-softened face sunk its way into the cushion, hair framing your face as you rested, your breaths slow and even and sweet. And though you claimed the bed he had always hated made you feel weightless, like you were sleeping on a cloud, you had then gone on to proclaim that very same day that you could be sleeping on cardboard and youβd still be happy as long as he was by your side.Β
And suddenly, his dreary world wasnβt so dreary anymore.
He didnβt speak only when it was practiced; he spoke because he wanted to tell you any and everything that happened in his day. He didnβt weigh his every move; around you, he was weightless. He didnβt force his smiles; he couldnβt help but smile whenever you were near him.Β
In a world where his only value was in being put on display, you had shattered the glass and shone light on all the beautiful, fragmented pieces. To everyone else, he was the perfect hero. To you, he was simply Nice and it was enough.Β
Nice always hated his bed.
Until the image of you curled up on it, waiting and praying for his safe return, became his saving grace. And he couldn't wait to go home.
oh. my. god.......
β : ππ¨ ππ πππ«π¨ π π’ππ¨π§π¬
Nice and Wreck secret relationship π But then I thought... Is that physically possible for Nice?
Nice as Atlas carrying his world
Prune Juice Cookie (CookieRun: Kingdom) x Reader
Relationship: Romantic with Prune Juice Cookie
Summary: The reader give him rare ingredients harvest by themself/himself/herself.
***
You ran, and ran, and ran again, trying to escape the monster hunting you down. You had reached your goal: taking a dragon scale. However, you hadn't planned for the fact that you would wake it up. Okay, maybe you had a plan, but, you see, you're actually in the middle of putting it into action now. Yeah, your only idea for escaping a millennial dragon was to rely on your little, weak legs. You don't know how you're still alive, but you are. And if you want to stay that way, you have to keep using every part of your body.
You run, jump, dodge, step over obstacles, and somehow manage to reach β not without difficulty β a safe place. You take a moment to catch your breath, but you're still buzzing with adrenaline, way too excited to stay still.
You squat down and place your knapsack in front of you. You take out a book and flip it open to the pages marked with post-its in your favorite color. You check if you have all the ingredients, your gaze flickering nervously between the book and your bag. Everythingβs here. You were way too excited to hand over your hard-earned ingredients to Prune Juice Cookie and then go home to rest and nurse your scratches. So, without further hesitation, you head straight to your favorite Cookie's house.
When you arrive, you open the door and wander between the aisles, heading straight for Prune Juice's potion workshop (if you can call it that). When you push open the door, you give a little more force than you intended, and it slams violently against the wall, startling the Cookie who was mischievously stirring a mixture in his cauldron.
The delicious scent of prune juice fills your senses and instantly relaxes you. You think you might have really scared him, because he looks at you as if you were the terrible dragon you had just escaped from.
"Do you think I welcome savages into my home?" he says, adjusting his hat properly.
"Sorry, I can't contain my energy..." you notice you're speaking slower than usual, and your whole body feels heavy. The sofa you had set up for yourself, for watching Prune Juice prepare his potions, calls to you, and you can't stop your legs from moving toward that irresistible artifact (and yes, still talking about the sofa, not the Cookie, hehehe...). Meanwhile, Prune Juice Cookie starts stirring the potion again in slow, circular movements.
"I'm just very excited!" you continue, flopping onto the couch.
"Is that a reason to interrupt me during a meticulous preparation?" He turns to you β only to see you already fast asleep, clutching your knapsack.
Prune Juice Cookie sighs. Examining you, he notices the injuries covering your body. He leaves you alone for a moment, then returns with the Booksellerβs Monocle. Peering through the crystal-clear lens, he makes your injuries disappear one by one. Then he removes his cape and gently drapes it over you, lingering just a little too long, watching your peaceful face.
Two hours pass before you finally wake up. Slowly regaining consciousness, you sit up.
"Did you sleep well?"
You blush lightly.
"Is it my fault your house smells so... soporific?"
"No, but it is your fault for showing up here obviously exhausted and injured," he scolds.
You lower your head and mumble a small "sorry." Prune Juice sighs again and says:
"Anyway, how did you get hurt in the first place?"
This simple question reignites all your previous excitement. You suddenly leap from the couch and dash up to him, stopping less than a meter away, surprising him again.
"In fact, I didn't hurt myself all alone!"
"Luckily, otherwise youβd really be a lost cause."
You deliberately ignore the jab.
"Well, I brought you some presents!"
You hold out your satchel and press it against his chest. He takes it, eyeing you suspiciously, then finally opens it. As soon as he lays eyes on the contents, his pupils start to glow. He abruptly looks up at you, stammering.
"H-How did you get this? Did you seek it alone?! No, that's too dangerous, only an unconscious Cookie would do that... How much did you pay?"
"A brave Cookie like me doesnβt need money!" you say proudly.
You think you might have broken him, because he's just standing there, staring at you with his mouth slightly open. He shakes his head to snap out of it. With a giggle, you start explaining:
"First step: steal one of your books gathering all kinds of magical ingredients."
He gives you a look that's both doubtful and annoyed.
"Then, make a list of all the interesting ones. Donβt forget to do some research, scout for the ingredients, prepare strategies to collect them, and plan the order based on their storage capacity. And finally, I picked them! It took me so long, more than four months!... Hope you like it!"
"Like it?! Do you even realize how rare some of these ingredients are?! Of course you do, you read my notes."
"Thanks for that, by the way! It helped a lot in choosing the relevant ones. You're really brilliant, you know!"
"Of course I am!" he answers, looking away, pretending to be more interested in the bagβs contents. As he does, he spots a flask full of honey among the Bell Pepper BoltPairs and a pouch full of Ash Moonstone. He pulls out the flask, gives it a gentle shake, opens it, and takes a deep breath.
"Is that... a flask of Dear Honey!? How? The Queen Bee only gives her mellifluous nectar to those who prove genuine love."
"Yep! I donβt really know why she let me take her honey. I just told her I wanted to gather ingredients for a precious friend who loves brewing potions."
Maybe you lied a little. No big deal β you didnβt just call Prune Juice Cookie a "friend," after all. That was probably why the Queen gave you her blessing.
Prune Juice, who is no fool, quickly realizes that if you mentioned him to the Queen Bee, it means you might feel something... stronger than friendship. He can't finish that thought, too embarrassed. He mumbles:
"Is it me, or is it getting warmer here?"
"You said something?" you ask, tilting your head.
"Ah, you brought a Bitter Lime Piece!"
"I know you like your potions bitter, hehe."
"That's very kind of you," he says, starting to organize the new ingredients.
You skip closer, almost dancing, proud and satisfied, knowing you definitely touched him with your gift β and thankfully so, after so much effort. You stand next to him, just a little behind. The prune scent is even stronger from here. You rummage through your bag again, grab a random ingredient, and offer it to him. He looks at you before resting his hand on the box you're holding β touching your hand in the process.
"I'm really happy you like it! Truly."
You stay like that, gazing at each other for several seconds. Then he moves away to place the box on a shelf, murmuring a thank you.
"Iβd love to stay longer, but after all these adventures, itβs getting late. I must go home. See you tomorrow!"
He doesnβt even have time to respond β youβre already gone, leaving him alone, his arm still awkwardly raised. He stands there motionless for a few minutes before adjusting his hat, as if trying to hide a (slightly purple) blush on his cheeks. Then he sighs, muttering about how reckless you are. When he finally finishes putting away all the gifts, he notices the book lying next to the satchel on the table. Curious, he flips it open to the pages marked with post-its he definitely doesnβt remember placing.
Indeed, they were yours. They were filled with notes like "Could be interesting to give," "No chance, it's too late to harvest this flower," "Such a cute plant <3." On the Bitter Lime Piece page, there's even a sticky note that says "This one reminds me of him!" making him pause longer. Some pages are also filled with doodles β a cute version of you, or a cartoonish drawing of him with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. That makes him chuckle, though he can't stop himself from muttering "absurd."
The last post-it makes Prune Juice Cookieβs heart skip a beat:
"I really hope heβll love my gift. I prepared it with all my love!"
He slams the book shut with a loud thud.
"H-How can you turn everything into... into a sentimental scene?! You... you stupid adorable thing!" he huffs, his voice cracking halfway.
He pauses.
"How do you make me feel like this?"
Glancing around nervously, as if someone might be spying on him, he slowly, almost reverently, reopens the book.
He treats it as though it were something sacred, or forbidden... something too precious to touch, yet impossible to resist.
His curiosity β and perhaps something softer β wins again.
Meanwhile, youβre not doing much better having a full fangirl meltdown alone in your bedroom.
***
Note: I made a reader so sweet <3
Paper crown for u <3