#ANYWAYS ill shut up now

[4ever-in-night]

oops. forgot to post

JASHTOBER DAYS 25 AND 27

PERFORMANCE AND NIGHT

… I didn’t like Performance all that much. was made under a lot, lot, lot, lot LOT of pressure and self-hate towards my art, however, I did like Night a lot! Drawing Majora’s Mask’s Moon was a challenge I didn’t know I could accomplish! :]

[ol1verdrawsyt]

Drawing cuphead characters every time I s-rank them :D I did Beppi n the Baroness earlier

I messed up the arms, but I'm rlly tired rn so that's my. Excuse

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Reblogs r appreciated!

[blairx-bitch]

Minor bg3 tarot update that I'm not gotta tag and hype up as much as usual since it is a sorta small look into my life lol 😭

I apologize for the radio silence on this project since my last post!! I've been struggling with getting my life together so getting a project together too is a bit rough. I am still equally as passionate about it, and am still going to pursue it ofc, but I'd just like to give a quick warning that it's gonna take a while. I've began taking medication for some of my irl issues and am hoping it's only up for there and will improve my motivation. I appreciate everyone's support so far! <3 soon ill maybe post some blender stuff, oc sketches, and also get around to the tarot designs!! And ofc, there's no pausing my shitposting lmao 😭

[worm-brainzz]

oughhh twomp song ideas save me..........,,,,,

[starsheet]

oh btw the url poll made me remember. i might change my name AGAIN so be prepared question mark

[mayonaisalspray]

I know it’s like. Not a big deal at all. But it is still fucking me up how Okuyasu doesn’t have a Nendoroid

[nanzyn]

i talk about a plane crash so imma just put it under the cut. fair warning it’s one that disturbs even me, who reads about crashes all the time

The Price of an Hour: The crash of Alaska Airlines flight 261

that link goes to an article describing a deadly plane crash so only read it if you can handle that, and its a pretty sad one

but i can not stop thinking about it. the author puts it best:

An airliner cannot truly fly upside down — maintaining level flight in such a condition is essentially impossible, and the engines will quickly die — but if anyone ever came close, it was Captain Thompson and First Officer Tansky as they heroically tried to save their stricken aircraft, even after all hope was lost. 

for some reason, this paragraph always stuck with me. something about fighting to the very end, against impossible odds, to try and save the lives of the people whose safety you are in charge of, while knowing logically there’s nothing you can do at this point, is so... terrifying. and heartbreaking.

and then there’s the last paragraph of the article where they talk about how the airline essentially got away with the murder of 88 people

In some accidents, relatives of those who died can take some small comfort in the possibility that their loved ones never knew what hit them. This was not one of those cases. The last minutes of those on board the doomed MD-83 would have been sheer hell, as the plane went inverted, corkscrewed, pirouetted, and spun like a top during its final dive. For the relatives of the victims, this fact made it all the more important that Alaska Airlines pay for its negligence. But in the end, Alaska all but got away with it. And while the airline did eventually settle the suits, it did so only after dragging the families through what many described as a “legal hell” in which Alaska’s lawyers tried to downplay the monetary value of their deceased loved ones. It’s an outcome that has left many of them bitter to this day. As Fred Miller, father of crash victim Abby Miller-Busche, put it in a 2003 interview, “It seems like such an unholy type of loss. What a hard way to die: so an airline can make more money.” 

everything about flight 261 haunts me in a way no other crash i’ve read about has. i dont know. not even helios flight 522 hit me this hard (warning, also pretty disturbing, even for a plane crash). the author who writes these articles is very good at making these more than just a technical breakdown of what happened. I think that’s why theyre so addicting to me.

anyways, i just needed to talk about alaska airlines flight 261. i try not to talk about these kinds of crashes to my friends irl cause quite honestly its terrifying, even to me. and its a reminder that capitalism is not your friend and these companies have insurance policies that cover lawsuits from families of victims so when crashes do occur due to, say, negligence on their behalf, they don’t take a real hit.

something something the system is broken

[v1rtu4l-s1n]

i dont understand why people percieve me as intimidating over the internet. i am a loser. i unironically enjoy homestuck and shitty gore and in my free time im either rotting in bed while incredibly depressed, jacking off or both. i say about 20 words a week, 100 if its a REALLY good week. i say less over the weekend. im severely mentally ill and im too broke for drugs so i just kinda yearn for them. im a loser who falls head over heels for any dude who reminds me of my father or any dude who is even kinda my type. ive had a crush on most of my friends at least once and i am terrified to speak to people so i will, instead of actually acting on thess things i quietly yearn for anywhere from 3 days to 6 months. i unironically REGULARLY use my own emoticon that i came up with despite no one being able to tell what it is first try [hes a little puppy with snakebites!!!]

i overshare [as im doing now] and am a massive nerd. i act as tho i dont care about anything when infact i am just too emotionally repressed to express that i DO care about a lot. except for shit involving empathy, i genuienly dont have empathy unless im like, literally in love with you. i wasnt shown love and affection as a child so now i consistantly crave and fear it, and see any shown to me as fake and a trick or something to get under my skin and hurt me in some way.

long story short there is no reason to find me intimidating online, so it genuinely confuses me why folks have found me intimidating B=o|:

[ohlookitsthearkhamknight]

Okay something i want to point out with this gif especially is that 911 is amazing with its background action. As in the actors aren’t just standing there but if you look closely you’ll see very important MISSABLE things.

Like this. Both Sal and Tommy see this interaction with gerasshole and Hen. And they dont look happy about it either. It adds on to the fact that Chim was not the only one that reported that bastard. And I love it, I love this show and its tiny but major details in the characters stories.

TOMMY KINARD IN EVERY EPISODE ↳ S2E09 “Hen Begins”

[ermwhatsup]

the ides of march starting to trend on march 1st is like the tumblr equivalent of those people who start listening to christmas music on november 1st

[the-blaze-empress]

OOOH I love this so much I am TIRED so I might not be coherent but here goes anyway

So Phil IS nobility, casting is commonplace, and Phil’s parents are shit. Good to know good to know

I’m really feeling that Phil’s magic is wrong somehow- either nonexistent or dangerous or even just unpredictable. If he couldn’t control it, that would explain the “can’t behave himself comments”, but if it was nonexistent that could explain the “stupid” comments. I need more cluessssss

Okay so techno IS breaking society’s rules in a way that would get him chased out of settlements- and what was that about a response Techno was not “supposed to be able to pick up on”?? It’s giving telepath or empath, and I feel like Chat might have something to do with it. Interesting, very interesting. It’s the same sentiment Techno echoed of the sleep spell, so I’m wondering if the restrictions on the two different things are connected somehow

Either Phil is infamous in this oasis or they’re extreme xenophobes- or maybe it’s just something about techno specifically? Perhaps all three- which would make sense, considering most settlements are supposedly tightly knit, and we know Phil really wanted to Get Out. Plus it’s already been established that Techno dresses differently. The fact is not lost on me that techno rides a horse while everyone else has camels- I wonder if that’s anything important

Technos whole thing is giving kinda horcrux vibes? In that it’s like using normal magic but in dark and dangerous ways, making him an outcast. I’m expecting some dark backstory to start creeping in- perhaps explaining the origin of Chat

Why would Phil be chats problem? What did chat notice about him during the ride? WHAT DOES CHAT KNOW???

Every new chapter of this fic gets me obsessed all over again, the writing is just so eloquent and captivating, well done as always!!

mood on the tiredness, i just got woken up from an impromptu nap by my flatmate telling me theyre gonna start making dinner

yes!! to all three!! i thought youd like learning that information akjhsdfkfjd it answers some of the questions youve had BUT NOT ALL HAHA ITS NOT GONNA B THAT EASY

dont u worry u will be getting plenty more clues, speaking of, i need to go back and edit smth bc i made it Too Obvious I Think also i just had an idea that would be sick

eyes emoji. thats all im saying. eyes emoji but vaguely threatening because i know whats up and you dont <3

i mean yeah its not every day a guy wearing weird clothes turns up on a weird animal with the child of council members also on the weird animal that most people have only ever seen in illustrations. im not saying thats the entire answer btw but im also not saying its not not the entire answer. kapish? kapush.

oooo horcrux vibes i like it. also yeah you will be getting backstory i didnt write it all out already for nothing kajhfdskahf

"CHAT KNOWS ALL!"* *ᵉˣᵖᵉʳᵗˢ ᵃᵈᵛᶦˢᵉ ˢᵏᵉᵖᵗᶦᶜᶦˢᵐ ʷᶦᵗʰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᶜˡᵃᶦᵐ, ⁿᵒ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉˢ ᶜᶦᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃʳʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᶦˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿʳᵉˡᶦᵃᵇˡᵉ

anyways uh. hi. thank you sm for the kind words and the theories and literally everything i love u so much /p

[arillustrated]

thinking about mizu from blue eye samurai. thinking. thinking so much. thinking about how mizu operates outside of gender. like we joke about her gender being revenge but straight up? it literally is. like she grew up as a boy and is most comfortable being a man, but behind that is the feeling of betraying himself because he isn't being honest about who he is and he lives in fear of being discovered. and when he lived as a woman, she found joy there as well. she fell in love, and though she wasn't good at it, she liked being a wife and enjoying a simple life. but in that life too, she isn't being honest about who she is. and when she reveals her true self, it's not a woman, she's a demon, a weapon. she's to masculine to be a woman, and too feminine to be a man. ultimately, mizu is most comfortable when they are being a murder machine. that's when they feel they are being the most true to themself. like a sword, they are neither man nor woman, but a blend of both, which makes them stronger.

[dorothywonderland]

BRO LITERALLY DOXXED HIMSELF TO THE CYCLOPS. he was asking to get jumped come on

[dungeonmechoui]

Unprofessional yuri save me.. save me unprofessional yuri.. (image description in alt text)

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

[furorsopher]

i agree that that documentary probably has the best casting for hamilton i’ve seen yet, THANK YOU FOR THE LINK if anybody hasn’t watched it yet: WATCH IT!!!

personally i really wanted to watch it bc any hamilton/amrev content i come across i will inhale. i think the pacing and prioritisation of what they put in was a little off (it’s weird they didn’t mention hamilton’s months in boston and when he lived with mulligans, how his friends at king’s college changed his mind from being a passive royalist to an active revolutionary, that lafayette and his fellow aides weren’t included as well, and later that they didn’t really talk about the other hamilton kids (like eliza who suffered tremendously under phillip’s death and was probably one of the reasons her father was gone for so long after phillip’s death, since he had to care for her, or how they didn’t include the interview one of the kids did in their 80s about his parents)

but over all 10/10 will maybe watch again, fuelling my special interest, great casting, dislike some characterisations (ähäm burr ähäm) 👍

(also i find it hilarious how lin-manuel miranda is in the first few chapters, obviously excited to talk about the guy he wrote a musical about, having to be cut off mid sentence bc the guy won’t stop talking, and then he just disappears for the last chapters. the post production crew probably was like: “… this guy is just as bad as the one that we’re making a documentary about… let’s just… not. two or three segments are enough.” lmm just got promoted from being a playwrite to being a source for a documentary abt history lmao)

Here is the link for the Hamilton documentary on the internet archive!!! The quality isn’t that great but it’s watchable

YAY THANK YOUU !!!!