#/this was truly inspired

[houndvoice]

[zarla-s]

this is a really stupid joke i'm sorry

[patreon]

[chloesimaginationthings]

The story of Ballora in FNAF..

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[sparemoon]

RELEASE THE DA2 VARRIC ROMANCE ENDING BIOWARE

[holmsister]

Laios works part-time at a grocery store and is a mildly successful twitch streamer and one time this really fucking hot shirtless dude wanders into frame and everyone on Laios' chat starts freaking out like WHO THE FUCK IS THAT- HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A MAN SO BEAUTIFUL YOU STARTED CRYING- LAIOS THERES A HOT DUDE THERE- and Laios is like ahahah that's my friend Kabru! He sometimes comes over after the gym to take a shower while I make him dinner! He loves my food! And everyone in chat is like LAIOS ARE YOU STUPID- LAIOS FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK- LAIOS HES AFTER ANOTHER KIND OF MEAT- and Laios is a little bit offended like. No! He's just nice! Don't be mean you'll make him uncomfortable!

And then someone recognizes Kabru like "OH SHIT I SAW HIS FOUR PARTER ON ART AND MENTAL ILLNESS IT MADE ME CRY" and they dig up his SMs and he's like. A political commentator and activist/youtuber who speaks like 9 languages and has an history degree despite being like 22 and is working towards an anthropology degree now and pays the bills by being a fucking. Fashion model and there's INSANE photoshoots of him in all sort of artsy high fashion pictures in b&w like covered in bloodied bandages in BDSM gear dressed like a priest etc etc interspersed with like very good thinkpieces on consumerism and art and politics and the very rare YouTube 4-parters on random subjects with INCREDIBLE visuals and everyone is like what the fuck. What the FUCK Laios how do you even KNOW this dude and Laios is like he kept showing up at the grocery store during my turn and asking for ideas on what to make for dinner and one guy in chat asks but aren't you usual on at nighttime and he's like yeah it was like 3am for the most part and everyone is like LAIOS PLEASE

[ex0toxin]

uncle josuke

[yeye23]

Sooooo am doing some house keeping of my files and found this fight I never finished. I did it two years ago when I started to try fight scene storyboarding stuff (note this was before Escape-A-Tello) IT IS VERY OLD AND SCRATCHY, but thought I would share this anyway as, in a way, I am still proud of it

[daily-smallishbeans]

157- besties (just killed eachother)

[delicourse]

i miss them a little if im gonna be honest

[reunitedinterlude]

phil: whenever i see an ambulance, i like to think there is a baby being born, rather than a death (1, 2, 3)

[chanafehs]

I’m kinda tired of the fanon interpretation of lavellan with no family or friends or meaning outside their LI so if you have a lavellan who still has a family and friends and hobbies please take this as a opportunity to talk about them in the tags of this post <3

[cheesewhimsy]

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5

[angel-derangement]

for the first time, I feel…

[mrsnaildood]

Misc. CX-Tech drawings I've done throughout the year. Third piece is fanart for @toomanyteefs's fic Reclaimed.

[yeyinde]

Father John Price has been acting strange lately.

It started as little things most wouldn't notice—an odd slur to his words, far rougher than what you were used to hearing. A sway to his gait when he walked as if he was unfamiliar with the layout to the monastery. Gaps in his memory when pried for pieces of information that he should have known better than anyone else within the walls of the old building. Little slips. Missteps.

Nothing to worry about.

Not at first, anyway.

Not until it bleeds out, grows. Turns into touches. A searing, angry gaze drilling into your head whenever you look away from him. Ire lashing over each word he growls out in the alcoves he corners you inside, the guise of polite conversation falling to pieces when he slips his foot between yours, prying your thighs apart to stand between them. Towering over you as he rasps out commands for you to tell him about how you spent the evening prior on your knees—

Praying, you whisper feverishly, feeling the deep indents of the rosary beads imbedded into your fingers.

But that never seems to matter much to him. Not when the prayer is always an afterthought, and he makes noises like a wounded animal when you breathe out how long you stayed like that, and how—unable to resist temptation after gripping the rosary for long—you had to slide your cold fingers under your robes, numb, shaking hands seeking the blistering heat between your thighs.

("not close enough to tempt the devil," you mutter, shamefaced, heart lurching when the noise he makes in the back of the throat sounds like a misfiring gun. "But—" he drops his head to the wall, heaving. Eyes burning into your temple as you stare at the crooked tilt of his collar, unable to meet his gaze. Scared of what you might find. "But close enough that I had to—to pray again—")

And as the distant, unflappable mask of a seemingly incorruptible man begins to crack, breaking apart to unveil a yawning chasm, you find yourself trapped in confessional box with him after dark, quickly realising that the man you devoted your life to has fallen into that crater.

And something else has taken his place.