#FOUR TIMES I have started over

[galaxythreads]

me, looking at this chapter sternly: IF I HAVE TO WRITE YOU ONE MORE TIME I STG JEFFERY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the chapter:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Birthday to Fallen London; My favourite British people beefing it with bats simulator.

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[meamiki]

Happy Anniversary In Stars and Time!! Have some Friend Quest based drawings :D

(These have specific quote picks related to them! And there's also a long ramble on why I like those specific quotes below if interested)

(And by long, I mean roughly 2k+ words of proper ramble total, so be warned before clicking keep reading this link right here to the rb!!)

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up? 

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

-

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon. 

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth. 

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick. 

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it? 

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best. 

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again. 

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness. 

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes. 

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman. 

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop. 

Away.

All she needed to do was get away. 

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong? 

It didn’t happen this way. 

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out. 

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete. 

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose. 

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor. 

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?” 

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing. 

Away. 

She needed to get away. 

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away. 

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word. 

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass. 

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.” 

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something? 

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog. 

“Kendra?”  

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out. 

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight. 

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair. 

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally. 

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm. 

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing. 

It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.” 

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud. 

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook. 

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation. 

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,  

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble. 

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles. 

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths. 

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?” 

She was in the middle of dying. 

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now. 

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.” 

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic. 

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?” 

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up. 

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.” 

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away. 

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?” 

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little 

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?” 

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted. 

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room. 

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul. 

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms. 

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm. 

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm. 

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle. 

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her. 

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?” 

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static. 

“I need details.” He pressed. 

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.” 

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time. 

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.” 

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach. 

“Are we feeling more alive?” 

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side. 

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.” 

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.” 

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed. 

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered. 

“Then neither is yours.” 

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. 

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.” 

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.” 

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.” 

“Positive?” 

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible. 

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed. 

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.” 

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron. 

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.” 

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep. 

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair. 

She was home. And she was safe.

~

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

[weepingtalecowboy]

Considering that all shadow or dark related creatures in the legend of Zelda have a high sensitivity for light

It would be funny if they had an instinctive reaction to light

After all darkness is always trying to suppress the light

And does so regardless of choice

If a candle is in a really dark place the light will be nonexistent because of how harsh the darkness swallows it

Here is a very poor artist rendition of my thoughts

(One of the colors is using a mirror probably Blue because shadow goes crazy when he sees light sources)

It would be hilarious if shadow would try to attack light just because he’s a shadow

Like a literal cat whose hunting instincts get triggered if you play with it

I mean he already is cat coded as hell

[ruvviks]

attention shoppers there is a sickly little victorian twink with homicidal tendencies in the garden supplies department

[ashironie]

made this for my gc and wanted to post it

[mbirnsings-71]

You know when you have a fanfic idea, have it all nice and plotted out and everything, but haven't written it yet, yet specific scenes are stuck in your brain already? Yeah that's me. and my artist curse is that I had to draw the scene or I was gonna implode! So you guys get zero context except this is for my wedding planner au-

[racke7]

It kind of occurred to me today that this:

is kind of... awkward.

See, as anyone with chronic-pain will tell you, your "daily activities" will warp around your pain.

Where instead of doing things "the normal way" you've figured out some kind of mostly-painless workaround, and so you don't even have to worry about it.

And then it's also difficult to say what amounts to "most" or "many" or "some". Is there a set list of things you need to be able to do? In today's world, plenty of people go from bed to computer to bed, never even needing to leave their apartment. How does that translate?

Not to mention what "all the time" really means. Does it only care about the worst days if you have something that flares up? Does it only care if it hurts even when you stop an activity?

And how come "talking / listening" is so high up? What if your brain decides to go non-verbal from just paper-cuts? What would be the appropriate "loss of function"-comparison in that case?

Basically? There's a lot of empty holes and abstractness muddling everything, even in this seemingly incredibly useful example.

I remember someone saying "your worst day - with no meds/tools", but what if that worst day only happens a few times a year?

It's complicated, is what I'm saying. And whilst this description is definitely useful, I wouldn't take it as gospel.

In fact, you might be better off ignoring your doctor when they start asking about "numbers" and just explain how the pain effects you.

"On a scale of 1-10" "I'll wake up in the middle of the night, nearly unable to move from the pain, and then desperately claw my way out of my bed. I'll then spend around two hours sitting up and letting my body recover, before being so tired that it outweighs the pain, and I can crawl back into bed for another few hours of sleep. At which point I'll wake up in pain again. During the day, I struggle to turn around or bend over."

They might not like this, and they might interpret the "number" in their own ways (which might screw you over), but at that point it's more about them being shit than you failing to describe things.

Obviously though, I'm not a medical professional and shouldn't be giving medical-advice. I'm just saying that 1-10 is so fucking arbitrary that I don't feel like you can give the "correct" answer, no matter how much thought you put into it.

[vincentsleftear]

I JUST finished The Wheel of Time a few days ago and I’m already itching for a rewatch

[lockedtowers]

stop a/starion has a BRAND NEW SIM AVAILABLE ON MODTHESIMS FOR THE SI/MS 2

[outlying-hyppocrate]

the koivunen siblings ! ! !

[shower-racoon]

imagine if the Terraria bosses were on tumblr. what would they even post

[akkivee]

i think it would be really funny if, as we watch these leaders grow closer and gain more knowledge of one another, the rap battles shifted from the freestyle back and forth exchanges we’ve been seeing but instead became a rap battles featuring diss tracks lol

[moonchild-in-blue]

Gushing about animol crossing lil guys (gn) token. Expires never.

Hello Will I kinda really love you for this, you sweet sweet blue boy you 🥺💙

Say hello to the Hope World family 🌈

Deets and Pics bellow (very long):

Coco and Lily

My two favourites! Will get along with literally everyone 🥹

Coco is forever my number one spookie cookie bunny, but Lily is a close second - the sweetest froggy you'll ever meet!!! They are both incredibly sweet, and in my island lore they are besties 🥺🐰🐸

Their houses are next to one other, and often share books, baking tips, and whatever knitting project their working on! They hang out with Zucker a lot 🐙

Elvis

My cranky old man 🥹 Out of all of them, he's the least popular in the fandom 😔

Has been with me the longest - was my very first campsite villager, and has since settled well! He may be old, but likes to learn new slang from the youngins. Has the coolest study/library ever.

Zucker

It him!! My precious takoyaki baby boy!!!

He always has a silly outfit on - the pineapple hat was a MUST. Loves to snack, play games, and hang by the beach. A silly cutie patootie 🥹🐙

Marshall

Look at him!!! He so small and sassy 🥺

Marshall is the fashionista / coffee snob of our island. Literally lives off caffeine and compliments. Likes to visit Elvis and be Fancy™ for a little bit hehe. Great friends with Francine. Smol and Angy hehehe 🐿️

Bob and Chrissy

MARRIED. They are MARRIED and IN LOVE - 3 year anniversary coming up soon!!! 💜🩷

Bob is the coolest (and only) cat in the whole island. Chrissy was totally smitten with him hehe. He's also a silly boy who is a bit of a gamer - has a super cool set up. A literal textbook himbo 🤭

Chrissy is Francine's twin. They were popstars in their youth (listen to K. K. Bubblegum), and currently she's the only one still in the entertainment businesses. Always dresses fancy - pink and glittery and so so cute 💖. Sings all the time, also the most extroverted of the bunch.

Francine and Fuchsia

The Cool Girlfriends™ - kinda intimidating at first, but very friendly 💙💖

Francine is Chrissie's twin. Unlike her super chirpy sister, Francine is a bit more elegant and reserved. She now works as a designer - the spotlight was made for her Chrissy, not her. Best friend's with Marshall - The Fashion Duo ever (WILL judge your fashion choices) 💅 ✨

Fuchsia is our resident punk barbie deer. Dresses mostly in black and band merch - we talk a lot about bands and stuff. Very sensible and kind, always there for you if you need to vent. A true punk princess, Avril Lavigne wishes she was her 🖤

Genji

Our newest resident! Moved in last week after Pietro left. He's still getting to know everyone, but so far is getting along super well with Bob - he and Zucker often have game nights and Genji loves it (Elvis is too old to stay up so late, and Marshall prefers to go drink with the girlies).

Genji is a total gym rat but not obnoxious at all - he's just super active. He and Fuchsia will work out together sometimes 🏋️

-> Old family photo from when Pietro (clown sheep) was still in Hope World - taken during my birthday sleepover. You can see Fuchsia in her Sleep Token shirt 🥹

Bonus family photo but Silly™

If you read this far, have a little snack -> cherry pie, a Hope World specialty! 🍒🥧