#<- it canNOT have been that simple

[many-gay-magpies]

god. now i lowkey want to pic up the triptych 4th part fic again and try finishing it but i know getting the motivation for that would entail some teen wolf rewatching and i do not want to get distracted by teen wolf when i still have so many dbd wips in progress. one day my love... one day i may yet return to you...

[lunacias]

these are the silt verses, and I name our disciples thus

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

"See you tomorrow"

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 4 [prev parts]

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[crispycreambacon]

Not gonna lie y'all I didn't plan to do a full redraw. I just wanted to sketch this scene because I stumbled upon this while googling Gobo and Uncle Matt, and Wembley looked funny in this screencap. Then ruh oh I accidentally put in effort and. yueah.

This was fun to do! I used a different brush for the lineart, and I really like the simple clean look that it gives. I hope the expressions match the context since I didn't check the original scene, and I. I'm not going back to this episode y'all. The Fraggle Rock writers really heard me go "I wish Uncle Matt and Gobo would reunite..." and relayed that wish on a Monkey's Paw.

[impsandstars]

Just sitting here thinking about the absolutely breathtakingly beautiful song that Stolas is going to sing to Blitz when they finally get together. How sometimes just talking cannot express all of the emotions he has so it comes out in a song instead. How Blitz is going to listen and look at Stolas the same way he did in Apology Tour, eyes big and a little misty. How he will call Stolas a sap but have the biggest smile on his face and absolutely love every second of it. How Stolas will feel comfortable in their relationship that he will sing for Blitz often, not afraid of it being called ‘screetching.’ How Blitz will find the courage to one day sing to him and Stolas will practically fall apart with how happy he is.

[3amsnek]

weird (not quite) autumn- one layer practice Mae with some vague leaves stuck on for funsies

[scarysanctuary]

I'm so normal about the fact that the crew chose to use the unicorn hoof of all things for Izzy's new leg, its unbelievably moving. The unicorn was the figurehead of the ship, and back then figureheads embodied the spirit of the vessel, offering the crew protection from harsh seas and safeguarding their homeward journeys. Now i don't think i need to really explain just how beautiful this is, but, I'm also incapable of shutting up about Israel Hands, so. Izzy seems to assume everyone still hates him, and is drinking his many sorrows away, alone in his room, not knowing that the crew fully recognizes that Izzy saved them from Blackbeard, that he chose to protect them. The note said that Izzy is the ships "new unicorn" i.e. the new figurehead, this means that he also embodies the spirit of the vessel, and that they have faith in his continued ability to protect them, as is the job of the figurehead. Even the fact the hoof was painted gold seems intentional, gold in the bible represents love and protection, as if they are saying thank you for protecting us, now let us paint you in our protection as well Izzy. When they knocked on his door to give him his present, Izzy derogatorily calls himself a cripple, showing that he's feeling particularly clumsy and weak after his fall in front of everyone, and assumes this must be how everyone sees him now as well. But, unicorns actually represent power and grace, they've not only enabled Izzy to feel sturdy again physically with a new leg, they've also taken a bit of the weight off his shoulders emotionally by proving to him that he's not alone. Similar to his new leg, they're willing to bear some of the burden for him. And that's the thing, Izzy always tries to do things on his own, he gets drunk alone, he cries alone, his version of self-healing involves coming up with stories about sharks biting his leg off, and he even does that alone too. Yet they're giving him a sign that no matter how much he tries to self isolate, he's actually shit out of luck because they're there for him. What I appreciate about this show of support is the fact that they didn't force Izzy to accept the gift face to face, rather, they left it outside his room, proving that they know him quite well, and didn't want to push him too far too fast. Just like their extending of friendship, they are letting Izzy come to them when he's ready. But what i love most of all is that it actually works, this is what finally snaps him out of his spiral of depression, and gets him sword training again, improving himself rather than giving up, and engaging with the crew and helping them. This one show of solidarity, gratitude, and compassion, opens his eyes to the fact that he's a part of their messed up family, he belongs to something, and this fact alters Izzy forever.

[invinciblerodent]

Hitting the "not interested in this post" button over people's endless navel-gaze-y catastrophizing about how "discouraged" and "critical" they're feeling over Veilguard should be an Olympic sport, and brother, I'd bring home the gold

(thank you for the plethora of undodgeable, untagged spoilers btw, bunch of terminally pessimistic dicks)

[itspileofgoodthings]

I have an encyclopedic knowledge of both Taylor Swift the artist and Taylor Swift the celebrity. I have different feelings for both. I don’t actually know Taylor Swift the person, at least definitely not in full. I want to discuss her with practically no people but especially not haters or people just getting into her who don’t know what they’re talking about. Frankly.

[4ce-of-2pades]

(Leo speaking to Hephaestus:)

Leo: I used to think I was creative. I used to think I was smart. I used to take pride in the things I invented. But it’s just you, isn’t it? Everything I’m good at, everything I like about myself, it’s just your powers I inherited. If I wasn’t your son, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this. I wouldn’t be good at anything.

Leo: I thought that I had earned this. That I had learned when my mom taught me about machines, that I had built my abilities myself. But it’s all just shortcuts and fakery. It’s just god magic. It’s not real. It’s not mine.

[an-ruraiocht]

trying to resist the urge to unravel this blanket and start again bc i messed it up a bit and don't know how to only unravel it slightly on account of being really bad at knitting. i stg i counted my stitches so carefully in the early stages and yet none of the "squares" are the same size. why do some of them have 11 stitches now when they started out with 10. why are the transitions between knit and purl so fucked up. help

[uselessmonsterboy]

Hey thanks for being like the most patient people ever? I am fr just existing in workplace hell BUT I now have a new tablet so I can quit one of my jobs and take on comms again (after finishing the queue of people who accepted that they would be waiting however long until i could afford another) and that will give me time to like.. actually exist and create again

I will be working on the transitional chapter into Kamino Ward Arc but I definitely have changed in my writing style a bit over the break so if it feels different uhhhhh thats just what episodic hobby writing be like lmfao

Anyways! Good vibes and kind times, loves

[viciousewe]

damn I hated every minute of this knit glad it's fucking over goddamn.

(Toivuharu from 52 weeks of socks vol 1)

[seiwas]

hope everyone has a lovely weekend!! 💗 sending all my love and hugs!!!

[billdenbrough]

fem kevaaron, 790w, for @naturecalls111, inspired by this sketch mina and i stayed up way too late bc of reasons that were mostly my fault, so i wrote this for her the morning of our suffering as a virtual coffee substitute. wasn't originally planning to share it anywhere except just to her but we kept talking about it & now the doc has spiralled beyond its original purpose so i figured, ok, i could share the original scene. kevin is down horrendous

There’s a box of Frosted Flakes in the upper corner of the kitchen shelf.

Kevin knows this, because she put them there.

She’d done it with altruistic motives in mind—saving the twins from a life of cavity and sugar-induced stamina failures on the court (extremely embarrassing, mostly for Kevin, but probably them too)—but she’s having a hard time remembering that now.

Aaron got out of the shower about fifteen minutes ago, see. Her hair had been wrapped up in a loose twist of her towel, but her cereal-obtaining endeavours had involved some attempts at jumping—Kevin had paused in drinking her smoothie for a longer moment than she’s proud to think about—and now it’s half-fallen out. Aaron pays no notice. She has her hands on her hips, and she’s scowling up at the shelf.

“Fucking Nicky,” she mutters, which—Kevin can’t decide if she’s pleased to be spared Aaron’s wrath, or if she’s dismayed that Aaron thinks there’s a universe where Kevin and Nicky have interchangeable actions.

Her hair is making the shoulders of her shirt damp. It’s a loose, worn thing, so thin at some parts of the chest that it feels indecent to look. (Kevin still does, of course. She’s not in the habit of denying herself the things she wants.) There’s a discoloured album cover on the front: a bared throat, a naked collarbone, and a band name hidden by the way Aaron has it half-tucked into her shorts, but Kevin knows from prior observation is semi-faded anyway.

Aaron turns around, and for a moment, Kevin thinks she’s going to ask for assistance. She’s still deciding what she’ll say—her rational brain’s firm absolutely not warring with her appalling animal instinct’s drawling what’ll you give me if I do?—when she realises Aaron is planting her palms flat on the counter behind her. She bends her knees, as if to launch herself up. Okay, no.

Kevin moves quickly, slipping off her barstool and making her way around the kitchen island to stand next to Aaron, too close for Aaron to continue her action without knocking into Kevin.

“You could just ask for help,” Kevin says. She’s kind of looming over Aaron like this. It’s not a new sensation, but it kickstarts something in her chest every time.

Aaron glares up at her. “You could have offered,” she points out, which is true. Kevin’s been keeping her gaze fixed on Aaron’s face so she doesn’t get too obviously distracted by the swell of Aaron’s tits through the (genuinely loosest possible, Kevin is just a fucking degenerate, probably) fabric of her shirt, but it’s kind of backfiring now. The way Aaron looks, glaring up at Kevin, is just as hard to look away from. She’s close enough that Kevin can see her eyelashes, even as light as they are.

Kevin clears her throat. “That’s too close to an endorsement of your terrible dietary choices,” she says.

“Oh my god,” Aaron mutters. She’s relaxed her grip on the counter now, just leaning against it. The position has her arm resting lightly against Kevin’s stomach. It’s a searing heat through Kevin’s gym tank. “Then stop complaining and let me get it myself,” Aaron says, shifting a little to re-balance her hands on the counter. Her chest heaves with the movement, and Kevin’s eyes follow the motion, unbidden.

It’s that, more than anything, that makes Kevin swallow a sigh and say, “Fine.” Aaron glances at her before she can get her gaze away completely, but she hopes it’s a blink and you’ll miss it kind of thing, not the pathetically obvious ogling that Neil accused her of last week in the world’s worst whisper after Kevin’s eyes strayed over to the backliners’ section of practice, where Aaron was trash-talking Nicky with a sharp grin while Nicky tried to step on her heels.

Kevin reaches up to the shelf, stretching a little for the box. She’d pushed it towards the back of the shelf, hoping the extra effort required would deter Nicky too, so now she has to twist a little to get her arm far enough in. She huffs as she manages to close her fingers around it, pulling it down.

“Here,” she says, turning to Aaron, who’s suspiciously quiet. She’s not looking at Kevin, exactly; more like she’s looking to the left of her, eyes firmly fixed.

“Thanks,” Aaron says, grabbing the box. She glances up at Kevin. Her cheeks are a little pink. There’s a slight scrunch to her nose, like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t, just steps back.

Kevin nods, then realises her shirt’s ridden up a bit. She absentmindedly adjusts it.

There’s a small noise, like a swallow, but when Kevin looks up, Aaron is nowhere to be found.