#Cry me a river.

[meadow-mellow]

Man. I'm too old for ship fighting/discourse. I ain't 16 anymore, dunno how these ppl manage to remain so stagnated mentally cause you'd expect they'd outgrow this kinda thing.

[outsockk]

i would also destroy the world if i fumbled ford

[battii-art]

“𝕀’𝕝𝕝 𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕥. 𝕀’𝕝𝕝 𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕒 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦.”

-ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕤𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕓𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤, ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙𝟠.

[gingerswagfreckles]

Went from feeling like I can talk to mostly everyone online to feeling like I can talk to only Jews online to now feeling like I can only talk to Jews who specifically live or work on the Upper West Side near Columbia University and therefore Get It . :/ Oy vey.

[jkvjimin]

JUNGKOOK + daisies 🌼 for @cordiallyfuturedwight 🤍

+bonus (after a 9 hours and 45 minutes flight):

[fishermanshook]

HEART OF GOLD ICHOR.

( sprout s. , glisten , & vee v. ) + gn!toon!reader

⋆·˚🔱 ༘ * hints of inspo. from @eclipseberrycake. [go read their work it’s divine] , h/c’s + small size intended , can be read as romantic or platonic [best friends for /p readers] , possible ooc-ness , mentions of a panic attack [glisten.] , reader is hinted to be a distractor , I can’t write dialogue for shit , not proof-read , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

Runs are inherently dangerous. No matter how seasoned of a distractor you are, there’s no guarantee you’ll ever make it back to the elevator in time.

This run is just another piece of evidence as to why.

꒰wc꒱ 1,427 , read pt. 2 here.

SPROUT SEEDLY.

Had Sprout Seedly been there just a second earlier, he knows he could’ve gotten you. He knows he would’ve been able to swoop you up and away as his twisted form was hot on your tail, tendrils spiraling up from the ground as you dodged them left and right. But deep down inside, he knows that he wouldn’t have been able to anyway, not when the last machine had finished and not after a twisted Gigi popped up and out of nowhere, the two of them pulling your mangled body down into a pool of black tar as the elevator closed right in front of him.

Right in front of you, with your hand extended out just enough that he swears he could’ve touched the tips of your fingers.

Sprout doesn’t register the first tear that falls, nor the second or third. Not until he hears the all too familiar cranking and turning of Dandy’s little shop of Horror does he instinctively wipe his face with the back of his hand. It comes back slightly wet, damp with the salty tears of his own. Instead of sadness, rage takes its place, and it takes everything in him to hold that back.

—

“What the fuck Dandy!” Sprout screams at the colorful flower sitting pretty behind his make-shift pop-up store, a bandaid perched between the two of them— on discount, nonetheless.

“Deary me, what seems to have occurred— oh! You seem to be down one—oooh. Ah.” Dandy’s face falters for a second. Floor thirty three and just now they lose you. How pitiful. “I was wondering how long it would take.”

Anger boiled inside of him. A rage he hadn’t felt for god knows how long. “Listen, man,” Sprout announced, fishing around in his bag for something, “I’ll give you as many tapes as you want, I’ll give up every single one I earn and be in debt to you as long as needed,” he slams what seems to be a bucket full of tapes on Dandy’s stand, “but I’m not leaving here until I get that damn antidote for [name]. So pay up.”

“Sprout, you know that I can’t do that.”

“If you care about the wellbeing of your so-called ‘friends’, you’ll give me the fucking thing.”

“Get the research first, Seedly.” And Dandy’s shop is already going down. Sprout doesn’t dare follow along, too shaken up to heave himself over the shop table and fall after the deceptive little flower.

GLISTEN.

One second, you’re standing by him, watching the area and playing with the ginormous pink bow on his back while he works his magic at the machine. The next? You’re being dragged away from him, a scream ripped out of you before pure silence followed quickly after. Glisten can only whip his head around in time to spot the familiar growing dark puddle of tar alongside the ichor-stained claws of twisted Goob himself.

He wants to scream, to cry, to jump himself on top of the monster that twisted Goob is and rip out his stupid fucking eyeballs for being the reason he can’t find your black and blue bruised body—but he just can’t find it in himself. Even as the furry craft locks his beady little eyes on the vanity mirror, he can’t move a muscle. At least he’ll be joining you again, minus the discomfort that his twisted form brought him, at least he’ll still be with you.

And it’s as if Rodger can hear his deeply unspoken thoughts because the magnifying glass is quick to snatch Glisten's arm away before Goob can and do it himself, tossing him a few stale gumballs —the ones that get left in Dandy’s inventory for far too long— and tell him to start running. That’s when the adrenaline kicks in, and he can only get as far as he can before the mirror’s hunched over on his knees, gasping for air as he starts to hyperventilate. The main’s plushies loom directly over him. Vee and Astro stare disappointingly above him: aren’t you meant to keep face? What does one toon’s death mean to you?

They stare with no mercy, and Glisten only feels like he might puke.

—

The elevator is cold and quiet by the time Glisten can pull himself inside. One teleport to Tisha and he’s already clinging to the side of the door trying his best to conceal his broken attempts at breathing and the mascara dripping from his teary eyes— but is it even worth it at this point? What’s left to hide when the one thing he’s cherished oh, so much has been stripped away from his side?

You’re gone. One with the ichor now, and Glisten can only beg his teammates to end the run here. He can’t risk Dandy pulling at the string of fucking fate and having to run into your twisted form. No, he doesn’t even want to imagine what you may look like. Your body, mangled and deranged and forced to move to the ichor’s will.

The team listens to his prayer, and they head back up, but not before he can make out just the slightest bit of something coming from the other side of the door. Echoes of a voice sounding way too familiar to your shouting. Screaming. Of agony? He hopes not, but at him? He thinks he’ll twist himself before he dares to take a hearken.

VEE VERSION ONE.

It’s always a game of luck and skill when you’re a distractor —you never truly know what to expect next. Sure, you can predict the next time Scraps will try and snipe you, and you can surely attempt to avoid Rodger’s watchful and menacing eye after someone didn’t pay close enough attention towards what capsule they were picking up…but escaping from a twisted pebble? Vees…not sure.

She knew she shouldn’t have let you distract this floor. They had Pebble with them —someone who, not to be rude, was much faster than you in situations like these. You could’ve just let the guy take his twisted version, let him run himself tired all across the map, but no. YOU wanted to play hero today, so you went ahead and put yourself on the line, Astro wasn’t able to reach you in time for a stamina boost and you didn’t have a pop or even a speed candy on you and you had too little supplies to work with and—snap.

The sound itself rings throughout the map again. Or, in this case, through Vee’s mind as the wires and zeros and ones of her digitally coded, precisely ciphered DNA force her to relive your last moments on a never-ending loop. Over and over and over again.

Guilt rots in her motherboard as they descend the elevator once more. Numbness overcomes her heart, and she feels as if she’s on the verge of breaking out into tears, but nothing comes. Just the newfound pit in her stomach, and the overarching feeling that she can’t go on like this for much longer. The feeling only continues to grow, bubbling in her stomach and escaping to other regions of her toon-like body. She can’t stay in here for another second, and without another thought, Vee’s already pulling the lever to head back to the lobby. No questions asked, even as the others look with momentary confusion before putting the dots together.

Vee is the first one to leave the elevator and ignores any other calls of her name quickly after. None of them emit the same tone that yours once did anyway.

—

By the time Vee makes her way back to her room, she feels empty. The television flickers quietly as she sinks down in front of her vanity mirror; its shine fades without you here. She senses her energy waning, as if her system is shutting down. The world around her feels like it is crumbling, and Vee can only just make it to her bed—overwhelmed by the decorative sheets and blankets she had borrowed from your room during the countless sleepovers you shared—before her strength gives out completely. Her empty body lands softly on the bed with a quiet thud.

Vee won’t wake for at least the next few hours, and no one should expect to see her around so suddenly after your demise.

note: so how did we like the angst...

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[monoscale9]

what did dream see in his petrified state?

(any inconsistencies you see are probably intentional, idk im tired)

[daysleftofsecondterm]

Conservatives visiting this blog for the sole purpose of getting angry about its existence be like:

(Incidentally there are now 1,432 days left.)

[triviallytrue]

truly, one must feel for these tumblr users, unjustly accused of puritanism merely for their willingness to weaponize disgust against the sexually deviant

[arielrothbart]

The heart of the city is on fire 🎵

Got to draw them…they are forever my love and pain 😭

I was planned to turn on the bat signal on the back, but hum…I’ll just put it here, Maybe the colored one is better* idk, My brain is kindda dead right now

[srslylini]

THERE ARE PEOPLE??? WHO THINK??? THIS ENDING WAS GOOD???

you LOOK me in the eye and want to tell me all suicidal characters DYING is good??? story telling???

FUCK you with your "but jinx survived" BULLSHIT. what they showed was her jumping to sacrifice herself, THE SUICIDAL CHARACTER. nothing can make that better ever.

FUCK.THIS dont get close to me if you think this was good in any way shape or form.

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

someone (not me, please i can't - i have no time) write a fic where tom kisses harry, and harry's just like, "whoa - this bromance has taken an unexpected turn? hmm... it's probably normal." and he simply goes around doing very obvious couple/in-a-relationship-oriented things with tom while his mental monologue is just:

tom, takes harry out on dates: harry: what good bros we are - doing things that heal our inner children! tom, holds harry's hand: harry: mmhm. best bros maintain skinship, yep. tom, kisses harry often and senseless: harry: uhhh? great bros aren't afraid to show physical affection out of misplaced fear of being seen as emasculated? ...yeah!

tom knows what's happening and gets more and more absurd just to see how harry explains away other things he does while also totally taking advantage of him (of course)

[pearlyboi-ofthenight]

Cry Me A River (19+)

[sunshinem0ths]

trying to read harrow the ninth after spending the whole first book in the head of a jock who actively tuned out exposition and made "that's what she said" jokes

[sunnymainecoonx]

(Ahem, 2 minutes future Sunny speaking) context is, simply put, Dream momentarily forgot about everything that went wrong. But, he doesn't have to dwell into that anymore, not when the (literally pointless)war is over.

Headcanon time lessgo!! Dream never got into any hobbies because of his job as a guardian but there is one thing he knows how to do and that's making flower crowns :3 and since it's connected to childhood memories he tends to forget how cruel the world is. Luckily though, war is over ;3 so he can finally rest!!.... At least in this timeline.(Sunny, shush, stop, YOU NEED TO STOP YOU F—) and since we're talking about flowers..(we are?) I'm also gonna mention I see Dream as a big flower nerd :3(stop doing that face) and it's even more fun out in the multiverse 'cause god are there so many flowers!! He also likes to see what kind of absurd flowers he can make fit together :3(Sunny, what did I just say)

Also, let me introduce y'all to my "crying you a river" style! Created by my literal tears :3(....) I suffer from life crisis whenever art styles and this one is just a silly and simple funker. I'm gonna lend this art style to... Dreamtale Sunny! Yeah, he exists apparently... I usually make or have OCs that I use to represent different styles- which is one way to hide who I am ig...

Anyways— @cakesmelons I'm picking the star Sanses because this was already being made(here u go bessie) TwT I just— I need to break my hands wait I meant

....anyways. I have to give credits to Roxy(creator of Slash) because my thoughts while I came up with this was inspired by that one comic where Dream literally forgot his brother was dead :3(Sunny I hope you die)(...please don't—)

[fishermanshook]

ASK: Hi:) if you feel like it how do you think ganji norton and naib would react to reader saying they feel safe with them?

“TRUST IN ME!”

( batter , prospector & mercenary ) + gn!reader

occ , angst in naib & ganji’s part , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

To fall in love is a risk not all are willing to take. Putting your heart on the line could result in rejection and heartache instead of love and happiness.

To fall in love in a place like this is out of the ordinary, but not exactly uncommon. And as you find yourself sinking more into your lovers embrace, you can’t help but whisper the words;

“I trust you.”

꒰wc꒱ 1.3k

✦— THE BATTER

You say it to him after a match where one reckless move could’ve killed you.

It’s night when the Batter, Ganji Gupta, holds you tight in his arms. Maybe a little too tight for your liking, but you did put him in a frightening situation earlier today. You recall shoving him out of the way in order to save him from a blow to your head. You don't remember much after that. Just blurry memories of being in Emily's office and then, returning to your room with Ganji.

“Ganji,” you sigh, clawing at his arms in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp, even if it’s just a little bit. “You’ve gotta loosen up a little bit, please. I’m really sorry I did that earlier, but you needed to get out…”

Ganji is quick to stop your rambling by holding you (somehow) even tighter than before. “[name], you got hit on the head with an axe. None the less, a Detention hit. If I—“ Ganji sucked in a deep breath of air, letting it fall from his mouth before speaking again. "If I hadn't used my last ball I don't think you would've struggled out in time. And I don't want to think about having to leave you behind because that was your last chair."

Immediately, Ganji stiffens and sits ups. he seems to have finally processed what just happened.

"[name]. you could've died. And for what?" Ganji repeats the question while shaking you by your shoulders, tears pricking at his eyes threating to fall.

You cup his face and put your forehead to his, allowing his to fulling chompreheand the choice you made during the last match.

"I understand it was stupid of me," You start, closing your eyes. "But I don't do things without reason."

The Batter quickly wipes away at his falling tears, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Then why did you do it? You said it yourself, it was a stupid choice."

"Yes, but I did it for you. I did it because I have put more trust into you than anyone else in this wretched manor. And I knew, that even if I didn't make it out during that last game, that you would still be okay. Surviving another match means surviving another day. And for you, I'd do that again."

"God," Ganji wipes at his nose. "I hope you don't."

✦— THE PROSPECTOR

You say it to him when you’re tired and vulnerable. when anything can happen.

It was early in the morning when the Prospector, Norton Campbell, snuck into your room to pry you awake from your slumber. With your bedroom key in hand (you gave it to him in case of an emergency), he tip toed into your room. He couldn’t help but silently laugh as he peered at your morning appearance. Hair a mess with a side of droll staining your pillow. Cute, but he can stare more later.

The Prospector is quick to shake you awake, pinning your arms to your side so you don’t land a hit on him in fear of being attacked. As he hovers above you, he explains that there’s something he wishes to show you.

“But Norton,” you whisper into his ear “the sun isn’t even up yet.” You hoped the darkness of your room could conceal the light blush on your face.

“Exactly why I want you to come with me. I promise it’ll be worth it.” Norton mumbled, pulling you out from under the covers. Sliding on a pair of shoes, you drag your achy body behind him and follow the Prospector outside the manor.

Fresh dew covered the grass outside, making it a bit wet and chillier than usual outside. Fortunately, Norton had came prepared. Set up outside was a big fluffy blanket with more than enough pillows to spare. Two mugs of coffee residing inside.

“Ever seen the sunrise?” Norton asks, already knowing the answer based off your shocked expression.

You shake your head no as the Prospector reaches to grab your hand and lead you towards the spot. It didn’t take long to get settled, and when you did, you found your head in the core of Norton’s lap.

“Oh? What’s this?” Norton teased “cold aren’t ya’?” You shiver in his arms as a response. Before grabbing his face with your hands. It’s a weird position, but Norton doesn’t mind. Instead he leans into your touch. A soft smile on his face.

“Have I ever told you how much I trust you?” You ask with genuine curiosity.

“I’m not sure, have you?” Norton questions, brushing your hair to the side of your face.

“No, I’m being serious. Stuck in a place like this leaves everyone fending for themselves. But because I have you, I have someone to watch my back. I really appreciate that Norton. I trust you more than anyone else in this manor.”

Norton looks at you with sad eyes as he bends down to place a gentle kiss upon your forehead.

“I trust you more, doll.” He says as the sun starts to rise. Showering you in its warmth and light, a feeling he now resonates when it comes to you.

✦— THE MERCENARY

You say it to him during a particularly risky match where everything seems to be on the line.

There are time where a match can go inexplicably well, where everything goes absolutely perfect and you survive the game with all your limbs intact and the egotistical pride that comes with it.

Those aren’t all the time though, and when both sides are fighting it out until their last breath, it turns into a messy and an undoubtedly long match.

This seems to be one of them, and you’ve collected more than enough scars and bumps and bruises to prove it. You’re more than sure you’ll have to make a stop by Emily’s offfice, but now’s not the time to think about that. You must stay focus on your current task: stitching up Naib.

Sangria got him good this time as a long scar has taken shape on his back. Naib bites down on his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the whimpers of pain he feels. He thought he was better at this. Better at pretending he wasn’t hurting. You know him all too well though.

“m’ sorry, ‘m sorry I know it hurts. I promise I’ll be done in just a second.” You say in attempt to comfort and reassure him. All he does is nod his head and sucks in a breath of air in order to steady himself.

The Mercenary is off the second he feels you tighten the last of his bandages. You’re quick to jump onto a cipher machine as well to catch up on the progress that was lost.

—

This match has been nothing short of a living, breathing disaster.

You still can't shake the ear piercing scream Fiona let out as she was hit down again minutes later, and you won't forget the horrible cut that now runs across Naib's stomach. You’d stich it up but you don’t have the time for it. Not when Fiona needs rescuing.

“Naib, take over the last cipher. I have to go in.” You tell the Mercenary, racing past him. He stops you, grabbing—no, shaking you by the shoulders.

“No, please, [name] don’t go in there. It’s not worth it we can, we can get—“ he continues to trip over his words out of fear and desperation. “please [name], I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Naib, I promise I’ll be out soon. I trust you, I wouldn’t go in if I didn’t.” And that’s that. You place a quick kiss on his forehead before dashing off towards Fiona’s chair. You hear him scream your name out afterwards.

note: KILLS MYSELF THIS IS ACTUALLY TERRIBLE [crys]

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!