#Into the unknown I go back to

[samuchiiiii]

We ran out of food

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Burning Rotten Bridges

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[drizzledrawings]

Insert a deep quote about seeing your grief in everything

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 209

Now Jason was planning on, well, a lot of things, when he came back to Gotham. He had a lot of plans, several of which had to do with the old man and even more that had to do with cleaning up Crime Alley, making it safer and all that. 

What he was not planning on was to find some sort of lab in the basement of where he was planning on setting up a safehouse. Nor was he planning on finding several literal children in cages inside said lab. Oh and Lazarus Waters- but children! With muzzles! Being experimented on!

Now he’d like to say he had a plan in what happened next, but if he’s honest everything had gone Green and he didn’t remember what happened next, only that he’s back home with said children and covered in blood. Oh and everything smells of smoke. 

… And apparently there’s more of these things dotted around Crime Alley with the rest of these kids, er, siblings? Family? Fright does mean family? Okay kids, he’s not turning into Bruce but you can stay here while he deals with this… however long that takes. 

He better not be turning into Bruce he swears-

[fawnforevergone]

what absolutely floors me is the way "Unknown (Nth)" is the song for Treachery, and yet is more about betraying ourselves rather than being betrayed. hozier says that, when the break-up happened, it felt as though his lover was chewing on his heart while it still beats, but he can only blame himself because entering a relationship is acknowledging the chance it may fail and still going through with it. AND THEN HE SAYS "i'd walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you" - meaning he would do it all again with the knowledge of failure because isn't that what he risked in the first place anyway? ,,,"Unknown (Nth)", the weapon that you are-

[debuckle]

its just funny to me that some bright individuals genuinely think that buck struggling to move on from tommy means something for bt. like buck the clinger? buck who was holding on to the idea of abby returning for MONTHS? buck who asked taylor to move in as a way to securing their relationship before he had to break out the bad news? nah dude he just has a hard time letting people go, tommy ain’t THAT special

[puhpandas]

I miss u fnaf fandom I miss people having new interesting stuff to talk about like we did with SB and ruin and a large alive fanart and fanfic community and not ok this game had no comprehensible plot and this games plot was already revealed 2 years ago and its still like 6 months or more until it comes out

[oneroomjestershow]

Introducing the four hors- i mean the four band members that i made to bother Sol

the situation bro is in, i filled some templates below

I found the worldbuilding interesting in the game it kind of remind me of home so i wanted to make other characters to play in different places (i have been silently playing the sims in my head these months).

Cicada is supposed to take the role of the MC and share details of the backstory, the other are just to add drama and experiment with different dynamics. But they are all part of a band called Unknown Infestation. (to clarify those aren't their real names, they are just nicknames, also i have their stage names and real names somewhere else).

thisis a lot im sorry im almost done bear withme a little

the credits of the template are on the image but this is the post

the post it's getting too long i will leave it here;;

[cleverreports]

We report: our expert has taken us to see the sunset so that they could point out certain elements in the sky. Not for the first time, we try our best to follow, taking notes, asking questions. Not for the first time, we are glad that they are the expert, and we do the reporting.

[craacked-splatters]

Surprise!🎉 Here I am back at it again making fanart for fics instead of finishing my own projects lmao

This is for @obsidiancreates cute and awesome rottmnt and TMNT 2012 crossover fic 'Out of the Shadows and into the Neon'!! U can read it right here!

Go read it go go go!! It's got turtle tots and found family and silly moments and sad times and everything. Go read it!! Shoo shoo it's good I prommy

[lonestardust]

carlos' eyes in the meeting room........ carlos' eyes at the hospital..... at the IC room..... his guts are boiling with hot rage!!! this very stubborn hope. it's in the clench of his jaw since the funeral. the lump in his throat that he swallows back every time because that's how the gut-wrenching vestige of murder that hasn't received its justice yet feels like."i see it now. the eyes.." because that's the glimpse of the resolute unswerving gabriel in him that echos 'if there are tears to weep we do it when the time comes, not before'. you grief but you don't get defeated when there is still work to do in order to rest in that grief. and GODDD carlos is so righteously resolved about getting there. i want him so so bad to solve the case. finally bring that retribution and avenge his family and himself. he's been in the waxing and waning throes for too long he only deserves the purgation and finality of it more than anything!!!!!

because no way all of this relentless endeavour and sharp stubborn wit would culminate to anything but cracking it. even storytelling wise that would be disheartening not to bring it to its desired ends. because imagine. all this time carlos was so right about the rangers from the start. then he looped in. was kept so close under their wing. and then he now realises that he wasn't really truly '''stuck''' but he was trapped and misled instead and it's all tumbling down now over their heads and he's seeing through the cracks. finally the darkness makes sense and he can move in action through the pinnacle and into the resolution!!!

[lynxfrost13]

I listen to The Red Gate by 1000 eyes for the hit game signalis and I try not to ugly cry about it

[momomallowart]

The new CG has me in a mood (and the mood is punk goes pop) ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ🤘

[dnalt-d2]

Alright-y, so in case anyone missed it, we've recently gotten some information from Quackity that he's most likely doing some new project, that seems to involve multiple languages, once again. Kinda like QSMP?

Maybe EXACTLY like QSMP…????

Or maybe not

Basically, the way I see it, it is pretty likely that this is QSMP-Related, what with the images that he's been posting recently, with the GODDAMN EYE GUY

However, even if it is QSMP-related, there is something that would need to be addressed

And that's that it's incredibly unlikely we'd be getting QSMP back in the form we knew it as

Honestly, I don't really see many of the Admins returning, Egg or otherwise. Whether it's by their own choice, or the choice of the powers-that-be. And I think we all know that all the Admins, Egg or otherwise, were a huge part of what made QSMP special

In addition to that, there's also a chance that with that sort of outcome, a lot of the Creators wouldn't be coming back either. I could kinda see some of them not returning even if the Admins DO come back. I know a few of them had more sour experiences with QSMP than others did, and I couldn't really blame them for not wanting to give it another shot

So even if this is QSMP, there's a HIGH chance it won't be the same server we knew

But I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. After all, I'm pretty sure the Eggs weren't initially MEANT to be as big as they were, which means that there HAD to be some plans for other stuff at one point or another

Hopefully…

Now obviously this is ALLL just, as usual, ✧˚⊹SPECULATION~!⊹˚✧

I'm not a psychic, and I don't know jack-all about what's been going on behind the scenes regarding QSMP or anything Quackity-related. I'm just making educated guesses and reminding everyone to temper their expectations, and try not to be too disappointed if this isn't exactly what you were hoping for

Because even if it isn't, I think it could still be something pretty fun, and I'll probably at least give it a chance regardless of whatever it winds up being

(Except maybe Purgatory 3, because I think I had enough of those vibes during my recent Purgatory 1 Re-Watch)

…

(Oh who am I kidding I'd probably end up checking out Purgatory 3 at least once I have a problem okay???)

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

[scentedpepper]

Okok so I have this request that's technically lip x m!reader x Ian where lip and reader are in a relationship but Ian has had a crush on reader since he started hanging out with lip. And once they officially started dating, Ian was pretty much heart broken about it but reader is oblivious to it so they stay friends. Until the relationship starts to get rocky with them arguing all the time (as canon lip high key sucks at being in relationships) and it eventually leads to Ian comforting reader after a dramatic fight with lip and Ian confesses and maybe they kiss 🫶

Bar Fights and Candle Light

IAN GALLAGHER X MALE READER

Summary: You're flawed, but Ian will scream he loves you for it until he's blue in the face.

Content Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, reader has been cheated on, impulsiveness, poor attachment styles, sexual implications

Other Pairings: Lip Gallager x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Hey Anon I'm ngl it's 4:30 in the morning rn

Much to my misfortune, I woke from my sleep at 2am and had an unbearable urge to finish this so lucky for you 🫶

This starting to look a little like a twilight scene..

Anyway, usual shameless stuff, lip is lip, reader is flawed to a determinate blah blah blah

Hope you enjoy 😛

---------------------------------------------------

Lip Gallagher held the kind of charm that reminded you of drunk bar fights and somehow, simultaneously, roses. The kind of trouble that ends with an eyebrow raise and the kind of kindness that gets you on your knees.

As much as you loved him, the man really had no sense of what loyalty was and instead seemed to revert to breaking the hearts of every girl he had ever slept with.

You knew such things well and your ogling from a distance soon became a thorne in your side that you wished to diminish.

You met Lip when he accidentally stumbled upon a gay pride rally. How he'd got there? You weren't entirely sure of those facts even now.

Four months after you'd befriended him and simultaneously, his red-headed brother, when you'd lost your dignity and, later, your boyfriend, Lip had looked at you with, if not genuine empathy, then interest.

"I know what will make you feel better. " He had urged, and you had just rolled your eyes and pressed your face further into the warm pillow.

You had just been cheated on, and nothing Lip could say would be as appealing as lying in the rundown springs of your mattress to inevitably– sink in with them.

However, the things he could do was a different story.

When you, in a half drunken state amongst the alibi a few days later, admitted to what had occurred in your bed the same night your boyfriend dumped you for a woman, of all people, Ian was –for some reason– under the assumption you would've rejected Lip's idea in entirety.

"Wait, " he laughed, his finger prodding the side of your ribcage until you were squirming with a wince, "you–really?"

And he could not believe his ears when you told him the truth of it.

Ian learned two things that night.

One, his brother had more flavoring within him than he otherwise assumed.

And two, no matter how much he tried to shove his affections for you, they only seemed to grow stronger.

Into the next months, however, where it was not entirely shocking, but rather, indescribably insufferable to Ian, you entered a very hot and heavy romance with a rather short and bitter soon-to-be-ending with his brother.

He was doomed.

He knew it from the moment the blush touched your cheeks and not your ears when you spoke of Lip.

And every second of it felt like searing hot daggers plunged and twisted into his stomach.

Ian wanted to resent you but everything you did, be it picking apart the little lies around his brother or, right down to the way your brow pinched in concentration when you played UNO, had Ian just adoring you more.

It was probably unhealthy how quickly he had fallen and you should've noticed the intensity of his stare.

But, nevertheless, your sight was akin to that of a bat.

And Ian cursed you for it.

What he also cursed you for was not understanding his pain.

Falling for the wrong person.

Sure, Lip was charming and deceptively gorgeous but he was as cold and disfigured as a snowman that seemed to melt no matter where he went.

Oh, and how you were the sun that shined down on him.

"You're just-! Fucking-!"

"What, Lip!? I'm fucking what!?"

The unsavory sound of the two of you came to Ian's ears on a Saturday morning.

Like a dog who's been kicked around, Ian reluctantly walks up the stairs with a heavy sigh and a headache already blooming within his skull.

Knowing you and his brother, he braces himself for the worst with a wince.

"For fucks sake!" Lips' voice pitches to an all time high when Ian removes the physical barrier of wood between he and the two of you, the first thing he sees being the redness of his brother's neck, and then the vein popping from it as he yells at you. "You're a real piece of work you know? Fucking selfish. "

"Oh–I'm selfish?"

Ah, and your voice, laced with salt and hurt, such a strange contrast from what he swore to be giggling 5 minutes ago.

"Lip.." he begins to warn, though if anyone catches the genuine concern within him, no one seems to bother notice.

"You are so fucking unbelievable, Lip! You realize what a fucking wreck you are, don't you?”

Ian's head spins with a stutter of thoughts.

He doesn't have the fortitude to beg this to stop nor the confidence to storm away.

His only options, and the ones he decided were best, was to wait until the dust cleared–the chances of things growing civil between the two of you was extremely high, when not fighting, you were an absolute sweetheart, however much you looked tough to be –but never once did Ian try to stop the arguments.

Because inside of him, the part that is far too gone for you, was vindictive and wickedly happy with the idea that you were growing discontented with his brother.

He knew –while guilty over the idea– it wouldn't make you easier to have.

"Youre too fucking clingy, Y/N! I can't breathe around you! I can't even stand to look at you sometimes, fuck!”

The pure, toxic rage spews forth from Lip's lips and Ian winces at the harshness of it.

He hated to see people yell like that.

You, however, were unrelenting as you shouted, like an echo through the house, the vicious noise came to him again.

And as you moved in pace, fists tight and feet steaming for the friction with the floor, Ian was in a comatose-like state and had no trouble tracking the beautiful anger you expelled.

"You fucking asshole!"

You started with a shove that sent Lip halfway across the room. There were tears springing from your eyes and the water glistened like stars.

When you shoved Lip again, his back hit the wall and while not very strong, was still heavy enough to make an ungodly thump.

Lip grabbed your forearms with a fierceness sure to burn through your bones, though everything within him was shattered, down, down, to the core of his heart.

Yet, all he could do was continue to yell obscenities right back into your face.

That is, until Ian had had enough.

The redhead stepped forward and finally yelled your name, much louder than he usually did.

Which was a bit horrifying and nerve-racking and every negative synonym to such an event.

He had to force himself in between the two of you to push you apart and without thinking, his palm smacked you square on the chest in an attempt to set you aside and there was barely a beat in between your hit to the floor and Lip's hands thrown around his shoulders.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?!" His elder brother seethes and Ian doesn't flinch.

"My problem?" He grinds and before Lip can let the flame singe him more, Ian shoves him off of him like it's nothing. "My fucking problem is the two of you. You can't keep yelling at each other like this, jesus. Grow the fuck up. "

If he hadn't seen the shame fill the space of where you both were only minutes ago, he might not have expected you to hang your head and break out crying.

"Oh, for fucks sake. " Was the exclamation of exasperation Lip gave to you, sighing angrily at the sight of you sobbing.

It made you cry harder, feeling betrayed by even his outburst.

Ian thought his lungs might explode.

"Hey-" Lip tried but when his hand came near you you were quick to smack it away.

Lip had made an attempt to further his explanation but you promptly cut him off with an ear shattering yell.

"Get out! Get the fuck out! I don't want to see you again you fucking piece of shit!"

The fiery look in his dark eyes contrasted awfully to your words of pure, burning red.

Hurt, is what he showed.

Broken, is what he felt.

"Fine. " He dared and your nostrils flared.

The door slammed shut not long after he finished, the sound leaving your eardrums ringing and your mind racing, filled to the brim with all the hatred you could possibly have for a single man.

The last emotion you thought you would have to battle, however, was empathy.

It was quiet.

With the tears still leaking from your face, your palms lifted to press against the spaces of your sockets and you hiccuped pathetically to no one.

No one except Ian who had slowly, after the initial shock had worn off, carefully inched his way across the floor towards you.

Right now, Ian held the kind of charm that reminds you of drunks that carry with them the very essence of a candle lit room and some kind of naiveté that was hard to put a finger on.

The kind of trouble that ends with the tightening of sheets and the kind of kindness that just breaks the dams.

He, unbeknownst to your knowledge, had learned how to treat you for a long time now.

He saw the way the plump of you lips tightened when Lip didn't make it home on time and didn't send word, the way the skin around you eyes grew darker when not sleeping in the same bed and the twitching of your hips when kissed anywhere less than suitable for a child.

From the comfort you sought within yourself and within your friends, to the tears shed all alone in your bathroom, Ian became quite versed in everything that made you, you.

"Hey, " the word comes out as soft as his heart feels and you don't move to acknowledge his presence. The sudden relief that sits beneath your skin has him gaping open with an ache pulling at his heart. "Hey, what did he say?"

You shake, maybe not violently, but enough for Ian's hands to move like magnets toward you.

They rest on the sides of your legs at first because that's where you're tucked, hiding and deserted. All alone in your cave as you try to collect the shattering pieces but all you feel is shame.

When Ian attempts to gather you closer, you fall apart and so he comes together.

"I'm sorry he's such an asshole. " He breathes into the side of your hair, rubbing his thumb along your back.

"He–" You hiccup, your body rising and falling again and again before you could get the sentence out. "He said he wasn't attracted to me. "

Ian thought he should vomit.

Or rip Lips cock clean from his body.

"He lied. " Ian insists and he wonders where that came from but when you sigh it's to shift and press your head down the top of his shoulder. His fingers run along the bones of your spine as he ponders for a moment.

"You're fucking hot, Y/N. " Is the next thing he says, hoping to encourage the confidence, but what takes over Ian when he sees the blush form so fast on your neck, is the absolute need to impress you with his tongue.

"Yeah?" Your tone isn't flirty or surprised, rather, exhausted, in need of someone who's not belittling you.

It's everything Ian is and feels.

You laugh softly next, but it feels sarcastic and cynical.

"Everyones attracted to you. " He tells you then and lets the gentle thumping of his chest bring you to solace. "Even me. "

His statement gives the impression of an abnormality.

Your heartbeat halts its rapid state and Ian tries not to flush when the thought of an engagement or invite forms illustrate inside his head; all from an accidental confession.

You, none the wiser, have the audacity to open your eyes and look up at him from beneath your lashes.

When you see him, he seems as though he himself is an extension of a person made of every emotion there is that you haven't learnt how to properly decipher, yet somehow, you felt connected to him for it.

"You're nice. " You say it like there's a small child in front of you, too young to understand you, too old not to want to speak to you.

Your voice is small and the sound it makes is akin to that of a mouse.

While it amazes Ian and has a great hold on his heart, he also knows you've only used the simplest way to describe his softness.

He stares back at you, frozen in a way he can't describe, his heart hammering like he's been told to run a mile and been given nothing but the anticipation of knowing it was, in fact, coming.

When he cups your jaw, the gesture is out of place for two friends, certainly, though your eyes close, serene.

You did not take his statement to heart.

But he meant it with all of his.

As usual, Ian was drowning.

Into another night of contemplating the intricacies of his next move and of the next possible one itself.

Because, without context, it appeared his brother had left him with his ex, sitting alone together, and would probably be fucking the living daylights out of any girl he could get a grasp on.

Lip had a poor source of regulating his emotions.

But so did you.

However, more than just the want to steal you away as his own, Ian felt the need to help you.

The kind of want that hurts like starvation.

‘You okay?’

Was the thing you'd often say to Ian before slipping into bed beside Lip and watching him slink from room to room.

Back and forth in a weird paranoia and an annoying kind of behavior that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Every time you asked, however, he was adamant on not opening his mouth for anything but a yes.

And you stared at him strangely, the same way you were now.

Again, Ian's lips parted for just one word.

"What?" He asked with a sort of soft laugh that felt like you were a leaf spinning gracefully in the wind across a green, fruitful park.

"You're sort of beautiful. " You told him, without 2nd thought, and Ian jolted.

"Ha. " He laughed –or at least breathed it in a laughing manner, if the strain against his lungs was of any significance– and the warmth was instant.

"Thanks.."

Ian knew.

And you were unaware, but you knew, too.

"He doesn't deserve you, Y/N. "

With every inch of his body aching to scream a declaration, what it resulted in instead was a calm sincerity with an earnest kind of gleam in his eye.

"I know. " You spoke it as a whisper, like it was forbidden and someone would have your head for it. But Ian's reassurance is enough to allow your shoulders to slump as they give out under the weight of the world.

Like Atlas, who caved at the sight of eternity, you feel it too.

Feels as though he were holding up, not the moon, not the stars, not the sun, not the planets, not the earth.

But you.

"Ian. " You said it, ghostly.

A call, something dark and heavy inside of you, the kind of dense which reminds you of death, rising and falling, beckoning you in a way that could only end poorly for yourself and any other life you might choose to cherish.

"Yes.." Ian acknowledged, more a breath against your skin than actual words from his heart.

"Kiss me. "

You didn't allow him the patience for one extra second.

Reaching up, you captured Ians lips with a simple tilt of his head, kissing him like it was the last time you ever would.

There was an odd feeling resonating within you.

One that said, this will most definitely not end well, it was the kind of thing you never seemed to listen to, even before, with the way you treated life like it were the ocean and you were trying to find Atlantis.

Like that, Ian became the kind of addict you held.

It started with the gentle way he kissed, his hands running small tracks down the curve of your cheeks and even smaller ones down the line of your jaw.

"What is this?" He managed to whisper between his lips that began to overtake yours, the glide smooth and succulent.

You don't know the words to respond.

Ian is no fool.

But for you, he resigns the right to be.

And he's kissing you like you're made of sugar and honey and he's been starving in a desert for days. The craving is hard to sate when it's been long fulfilled, the love never gone, the want and desire still constant.

How can this be so wrong? You can't even register the thought because it feels so delicious.

Maybe when one door closes, another opens, but neither was meant to be swung with a latch.

Maybe this is wrong; his conscience tugs, but he doesn't care.

You both ascend, but it's pure teenage stupidity that you enter this together, a high reaching just below the clouds, and you couldn't see past his eyes.

Couldn't see further than the feelings and the affections he gives you; that Lip had somehow left so much that Ian could easily fill up the vacancy.

Fill it so well that, this, all of this, is alright.

Just for now.