#I'm catching up !!!!

[dragonpyre]

Mermay day 2: Carnivorous

Batman discovered the fish corpse culprit in the cave

Commission info / ko-fi

[dimbulb-brony]

For Day 1 and 2 of TwiPie Week 2024!

Day 1: Boop - I think that summarizes it.

Day 2: Fears - Aw c'mon Twi, quesadillas are really good.

@twipieweek

[piowasthere]

day 10 - Lights on

thinking about HW2, arts & crafts 2 where Sun was shaking near a lamp in a broken fort

yk, felt like crying tonight

[pureanonofficial]

LES MIS LETTERS IN ADAPTATION - Some Petticoat, LM 3.3.7 (Les Miserables 1972)

We have mentioned a lancer. He was a great-grand-nephew of M. Gillenormand, on the paternal side, who led a garrison life, outside the family and far from the domestic hearth. Lieutenant Théodule Gillenormand fulfilled all the conditions required to make what is called a fine officer. He had “a lady’s waist,” a victorious manner of trailing his sword and of twirling his moustache in a hook. He visited Paris very rarely, and so rarely that Marius had never seen him. The cousins knew each other only by name. We think we have said that Théodule was the favorite of Aunt Gillenormand, who preferred him because she did not see him. Not seeing people permits one to attribute to them all possible perfections.

[theselightsareblinding]

Let's make a new MeenPing series, what could it be about? Maybe the plot could revolve around this 14/15 year old child being kicked out of his home because... *spins wheel* he plays basketball!

[transmurderbug]

Picrew time!

This was like a week ago but I couldn't pass on it, it's so cool! Thank you for the tags, Julia @juliakayyy, Jess @jrooc, Evie @energievie aaand Nosho @creepkinginc 💙

Nosho 🤝 me, frowning about the lack of green hair option 🍃 Luckily, blue works perfectly as well 😏

Not tagging because hehehehe [hides]

[journeytodrawiii]

Day three of @kay-m-sinc's writing challenge: Drowning in Sorrows

"She told me that I had something, that I meant something. She told me I was going to be great." my voice echoed before me. It stretched onwards, tunnelling out into the world.

"I know." A hollow voice replied. He seemed to be everywhere, and nowhere. I looked out over the fog soaked horizon. Peaking out of the curtain I traced the figures of old carousel horses and out of service fair rides. The paint cracked and chipped.

"Was I supposed to be great? Did I miss my chance?" A slow booming pressed against my chest. My eyelids were weighted and my throat scraped raw. An old bench simmered into view, still bright and yellow. Drawn to the chipped slats, I dragged myself over and flopped down. The seat was wet, but not more dew soaked than the grass that tickled my calves.

"I couldn't say." From nowhere, and from everywhere, his voice cascaded down, like summer thunder in a valley.

"I think I missed my chance." The glossed eyes of the carousel horses looked on. Tears pricked my eyes. Bright lights, blinding lights, a crowd awaiting my next line. Rows and rows of people, murmuring in anxious anticipation, all there to see me perform. A dry throat. Words caught up in a knot. Buckling knees. It was as if I was there again. The stale theatre air, the scuffed stage.

"You think yourself to be a circus clown?" A pitiful chuckle tumbled from my lips as a hot train of tears spilled from my eyes.

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, look around." He replied, calmly. His voice fading in and washing out, a presence not dissimilar to the eb and flow of the tide. My shoulders trembled and my lip quivered. Lilac stretched from my fingertips to my knuckles, in a sharp, tingling gradient of cold.

"I wanted to be great. But what if I'm just a fool?" The grass whispered against my ankles and shadows drifted faintly through the mist. Giggles and sneers built up, echoing towards me. Guided directly towards me, tunnelling tenaciously.

"What if you are?" The jeering cut out. I flicked my head up. A sharp twisting rooted itself in my stomach.

"I can't be."

Jolting awake, I clutched at my blanket. The window had blown open, the curtains swaying in the early morning breeze. The blue-grey sky poured down as a cold sweat washed its way over me. The cold settled in under my skin, and I hunched down further, bunched up in layers and layers of fabric. Nothing could stave the biting cold off. My skin felt thin, and each fiber of the covers above me pricked down. A sheet of needles. I trembled. 

Glasses gathered at my bedside. Some still occupied with a remaining swig of still water. Papers littered the carpet, spilling out from beneath my bedposts. I stretched out my feet to touch the edge of my bed, but met no surface. The ceiling suddenly seemed to resemble the ceiling of my childhood bedroom. Tumbling back through time I watched my frail hands clutch the edge of my blanket. My body was light, movable. A strong gust of wind could have carried me away. I wish it did. The hecklers from the audience plagued my mind. Their faces washed out by the floodlights over head, beating down on my neck. Sweat tore down my back, my legs quaked. I squeezed my eyes closed, white hot burning in the back of my throat. I opened my eyes. The blue consumed me. Washed over from head to toe by a gushing wave I fell still. Sweat mingled with the tears on my face as the shaking cut off. I followed the glistening flecks of dust. Little fairies dancing about. Bright, blue. I turned over, my nose pressed against the wall. There was nothing I could do now. Hundreds of witnesses to the moment that marked my downfall. Hundreds of witnesses who would never revere my name. Cast aside I sighed. Water seemed to drift up around me, or rather I seemed to sink down. At my core an anchor kept me rooted at the bottom of the pit, buried under the sands.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I drowned in the weight lingering above me.

[dykeferatu]

i want you so bad

[mariana-oconnor]

So happy they did parkin on bake-off. I love parkin. It's such a flavour of my childhood. I once took one my mum made to guide camp and ate it all instead of sharing it with my tent. Mine.

[flowerflamestars]

Choose violence: 1 7 14 and 18

the character everyone gets wrong

in honor of the fact that in this, the surreal year of 2024 I am seeing Teen Wolf posts, I have still not recovered from the fandom consensus of looking at A Gremlin with a Baseball Bat (WHOSE CHARACTER INTO IS: cool, dead body!) and going: Mom? Mom friend? Dylan O'Brien with a shaved head looks like bambi and look there's DAD TOO

(not to mention that. it must be said. Derek Hale actively seems like he's one genuine hug or bad cup of coffee from walking off a bridge at all times. it has to be asshole for asshole just to even HAPPEN)

Stiles Stilinski is not baking cookies and wearing cardigans, he's committing arson and insulting the quality of accelerants on hand.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

hmmm honestly fandom behavior rarely changes my personal opinion so much as it effects how much I interact with the fandom? If anything, it makes me more sure. see: the weird hatred of a hundred female characters who are slightly mean, or different, or messy

14. the one thing you see in fics all the time

I realize what this sounds like, but an over-attachment to canon? we are smashing dolls faces together in the sandbox, it's okay to change the central relationship and let it effect the plot.

18. it's absolutely criminal the fandom is sleeping on...

honestly every lady in acotar. the fics are churning out, but I would like one ENTIRELY bat boy free.

[solo-by-choice]

"The crowd melted away, after the bustling fashion common to arrival platforms; and I was beginning to feel uneasy, lest I might miss my guest, when a sweet-faced, dainty-looking girl stepped up to me, and, after a quick glance, said: "Dr. Seward, is it not?"

"And you are Mrs. Harker!" I answered at once; whereupon she held out her hand.

"I knew you from the description of poor dear Lucy; but——" She stopped suddenly, and a quick blush overspread her face.

The blush that rose to my own cheeks somehow set us both at ease, for it was a tacit answer to her own."

shut uuuup they are so cute

[challenge-ant]

I KNEW IT WASN'T 1989

[katanaski-main]

The man that you are ✨️

[somethingaboutvampires]

"Do you ever try to read your own face? I do, and I can tell you it is not a bad study, and gives you more trouble than you can well fancy if you have never tried it."

Truth

[asexual-thot]

Poor Ishmael, created WAAAAY too soon to be a Tumblrina.