#… briefly

[mumblesplash]

i say if you’re gonna have the mysterious entities speak in rhyme you might as well commit (EDIT: part 2!)

(posting an unprecedented Part 1 of At Least 3 bc i actually have the entire script and most of the storyboarding for this done already)

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Hey there, you on the table!

Stills below cut

[azaleastobloom]

She’s baaaaaaack

[mythtakens]

1.05 → 4.14

[devouredflesh]

they think Theyre a poster LMFAOOO LMAOO LMAO LMAO

[egberts]

louis has never growled at fig before but this was HIS sucker god dammit!!!!! fig didn't even want it tho. he hates the smell

[jonasiegenthaler]

njd@nyr | 02.12.24

[mar1omar1a]

Splatoon dump (and an eight wip)

[havenotwillnotreadthebooks]

Ok but imagine the Noldor trying to have a nice banquet after the entire Finwean Fam has been therapized and released from Mandos. Except Eonwë is the one announcing the names and titles as people arrive (it’s supposed to be a sign of goodwill from the Valor).

All goes well (except when he announces to the entire room that “Fingon Findékano Astaldo Nolofiniwion, Prince of The Noldor and Husband of Maedhros Neylafinwë Maitimo Feanorian” has arrived. In his defense, Eonwë didn’t know secret marriages could last almost four ages). But the Real Drama starts when Elrond arrives.

When Elrond arrives; Eonwë looks at the Peredhel in the entranceway, looks at his magic Scroll of Heritage-Information, and there is a long moment of silence where Eonwë contemplates if he really wants to spend 5 whole minutes announcing Elrond’s heritages.

Eonwë, in the end, decides to take a shortcut. Cuz how wrong could it go? As such, he announced to the Finwean Fam, several courtiers, several politicians, and to the face of Finwe’s actual children that “Elrond, Lord of Imladris Remade, Descendant of Finwë Noldoran and Elwë Singollo, and [Insert Celebrian’s Introduction] has arrived.”

Speculations rise, and whispers are everywhere about what the hell “Descendant of Finwë and Elwë” could mean. (A lovechild, somebody says once jokingly).

Elrond was expecting Earendilion, Neylafinwion, or Kanafinwion, even Peredhel. He was not expecting the first kings of the Noldor and Sindar themselves to be named.

Anyway, the worst part is that because of Mixed Ancestry, Elrond actually does look like a combination of Finwë and Elwë. The lovechild rumors grow.

[wiriu]

i cant remember who and i lost the post but i saw someone say slick would wear this and...yea, yea he would

[laurencin-draws]

tharja comm from etsy!

She's available now!

[lightbluesleeper]

John taking up too much space in my head........

When will i get back into digital art again? it's really anyone's guess...... having too much fun making little silly sketches recently

[isagrimorie]

"There's fight in Voyager yet. It's still got temporal shields, six photon torpedoes. It'll hold together. Besides, you know the adage. Captain goes down with the ship, right?"

Star Trek Voyager 4x09 - Year of Hell, part 2

Favorite Year of Hell moments

[siriuslygay1981]

Sigh....moonkiller

Remus walking through the dark halls just a bit before the moon is supposed to be up. He usually takes a walk before heading down to the shrieking shack.

Bumping into a disgruntled Barty, whose bloody and bruised, a small lump in his step. Barty is quick to pull back, a snarl on his lips and his fist reared back and ready to collide with remus' face. Remus catches his fist and looks down at him. Of course, so close to the moon his eyes are this eerie yellow that look as if they're glowing in the dark.

Remus' grip isn't painful, just firm enough that Barty would struggle to get out of it. Remus can smell the fear off of Barty, though heavily covered by his anger and pain. Afraid that he's scaring Barty he steps around him, letting go of his hand and walks off.

Barty, who just got beat up because he's gay, (and is always starting shit) bumping into Remus right after. He's not sure if Remus is a part of the group that just jumped him or not so of course he's prepared to deck him. So when the lanky boy walks away of course Barty is a bit confused.

From then on its like they're destined to meet at inconvenient moments. Anytime barty's just got his ass handed to him, an embarrassing amount of times, he just has to bump into Remus soon after.

And Remus, anytime he's alone or when the moon is full and he's taking his stroll, he bumps into Barty.

The next time they bump into each other Remus asks if he's ok, and Barty tells him to keep his nose out of his business. Remus doesn't ask again but he does bring chocolate for Barty to have on those days he has a black eye, bruised ribs, a broken nose.

They never really thought of one another before that but they soon realized their snark and sarcasm were compatible. Often when their comments would get too mean it seemed as if they were close to being at each other's throats. But when Barty says "if you were my dog I'd shave your ass and make you walk backwards." Remus Cant help but choke on a laugh.

"I'm jealous of everyone who hasn't met you b." Remus would smirk back

And it was fine, them hanging out...until the tension would get too much. After every insult, inching closer together, faux anger at first that turned to real anger. The tension between them making them lash out at the other for different reasons.

Was Remus serious about him? Or was he fucking with Barty? Was Remus gay or just experimenting?

And Barty, was he making fun of Remus? Did he just want to be near him because he was dangerous? Did he even like Remus or was he just looking for someone to fuck?

So they would take it out on each other, which just made things worse, the tension getting higher. It got so bad that they were physically at each other's throats. Snipping comments in the halls, taunting tones and harsh words. The jealousy was bubbling, the tension ready to snap. All's it takes is a flirty comment from one Sirius black and Barty is shoving Remus into a broom closet.

Teeth clanking, biting lips, hair pulling, in fact everyone who walks near the cupboard runs away quickly. It sounds like a feral bear tearing up the room.

They knock over everything, bump into walls, crash to the floor. And their hands are everywhere, under shirts, tugging belts off. Barty has Remus under his hands and he's not going to let him get away so easily.

Remus just can't have that though, can't have Barty think he's in control now...

So they tumble around the room, rolling over and struggling for dominance, it isn't until remus' hand wraps around barty's throat, his knee putting pressure between barty's legs, that Barty goes slack for just a second. And as Remus licks a stripe up the side of his neck, Barty shudders.

Barty doesn't go down without a fight, his hands tugging at remus' hair, sliding down his chest and scratching his back, arching up and kissing him hungrily.

It's tongue and teeth, jealousy and anger mixed in with their need for one another.

Anyways they fuck nasty about it

[3amfanfiction]

Let's talk about Gaz.

A 1k character study of our favorite sergeant. Based off of this paragraph from this post:

At this handsome sergeant, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, trying to follow in his captain's footsteps, but the steps are so large he scrambles behind, always feeling like he’s never going to catch up.

~~~~

Kyle knew who he wanted to be from an early age. He was smart—always able to see where the chips would fall in any situation. That combined with his looks meant he was able to control most situations with ease. If something was going to go tits up he could either mitigate it before hand or minimize the repercussions afterwards.

So when you met him, he very much seemed to have it all together.

He was all charming smiles and endless competence. At ease in any social setting—even a military award dinner.

You weren't sure how you ended up here—the military being dreadfully low on the list of things you had respect for—but it was an open bar and free dinner so you would try and hold back your complaining and critique.

You'd just settled into your seat when the one next to you was taken, a handsome man introducing himself as Kyle turned to you as soon as he sat down and the rest was history.

It was a matter of days before your first date and weeks before you decided you would be in a relationship, your dragging feet endlessly frustrating to him. He knew what he wanted (you) and he knew when (already) but he was understanding about your reservations.

Military men didn't have a good track record with their partners between abuse, cheating, and not being present. So as much as you wanted to fall headfirst into his everything you took your time.

It made it sweeter when you eventually moved in together.

The first time he broke down you didn't see it happen, only the aftermath. His eyes were red as if he had pressed his palms firmly against the sockets and twisted and his lip was swollen like he had been chewing on it, trying to keep quiet.

He didn't want to share when you asked—pried even but nobody said you were perfect—so you eventually left it alone, doing your best to show support however you could. If his favorite dinner made it's way to the table that night no one commented on it.

The next day was worse though.

Your partner was always level headed, not taking things to heart and keeping an affable disposition even when things got rough. So to have him snap at you, even if he immediately apologized sent up a warning flare in your mind.

It took time but you were able to wear him down and pulled him in for a conversation. Something was clearly going on if the look on his face was any indication.

Shuffling him onto the couch, you crawled over him and laid on top to pin him down, keeping him in place but also providing a comforting pressure for him to relax into. His arms wrapped around you to squeeze you tightly, almost like a life-sized stuffie.

What followed was a confession about an incident during his last op. Choices were made which ended up being the wrong ones and it was because of him.

"Luckily the captain was there, so no one died, but they would've, dove. If they had listened to me they would be dead and it would be all my fault."

Listening to the abbreviated version of the dressing down he received from Price made your own toes curl, secondhand shame flooding your veins. It made so much sense why he had been feeling the way he was.

Kyle looked up to Price more than anyone realized. Yes, he was his captain but he was also a father figure and a friend in several ways. To hear of him being stripped up one side and down the other made your heart hurt for him.

You didn't call attention to the fact that his voice broke or that the top of your head felt suspiciously damp where he had pressed his face to you. You were there to listen and provide any comfort you could.

You knew how he tried. You'd watched him stay up late prepping for missions before. Watched him go over paperwork he probably shouldn't have had deep into the evening hours, reading and memorizing and making plans. He would always follow Price but some day his captain wasn't going to be there anymore and it would all fall on him. He had to be prepared.

So why do I always seem to mess it up?

You didn't have an answer for that. You could try the platitudes—you're only human, everyone makes mistakes, everything turned out okay in the end—but they wouldn't do him much good and you knew that. All you could do was be there for him as he cried into your hair, holding him as tightly as you could while you reassured him everything was going to be okay, that you were there.

That night you made a call to a number that had been in your phone since nearly the beginning. Another number to call if something happened and you weren't able to reach him. It wasn't one you had had to call before.

The next evening you were putting the finishing touches on dinner when there was a knock at the front door.

Captain? You heard him question in surprise but were too far away to hear the response, just a low rumble echoing back. Moving the food to the table you called out that dinner was ready and to come sit down.

You got a heavyhearted smile from John and a questioning frown from Kyle as they both took their seats, digging into the meal with gusto regardless of any underlying emotions. They could be handled later, when there wasn't a hot meal sitting before them. Priorities after all.

The conversations over dinner were light, inconsequential things that didn't have any emotional depth to them. You were all too pleased to excuse yourself to the bedroom once dinner was done, leaving the two men to clean up the kitchen.

You knew from experience that having something to do with your hands when having emotional conversations made things significantly easier so you left them to it.

It was some time later that John came and said goodbye before he headed out, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder in thanks before stepping away. The flat was quiet after he left, as if he had taken a weight with him and now it was time to breathe.

Kyle turned off the lights and shuffled you into bed, curling around you and holding you to his chest. He was quiet for a long time before he finally whispered.

Thank you, love.

Read Simon's drabble here

Enjoy

[devouredflesh]

they think Theyre a poster LMFAOOO LMAOO LMAO LMAO