#OOOOOO BOY

[tech-obssessed-shark]

fanfic writers screaming rn

[dichromaniac]

Do you really wanna to make things better, or do you want to make all the bad stuff go away? - Gideon Gemstone

[arcane-vagabond]

Thinking about the train scene in Don’t Hang’em Til Noon

[katt-sports]

Out of the entire Miitopia team, the main four experience a lot of horrors.

Cole, being the protagonist, has the entire Miitopia story as automatic horrors, plus hearing everyone else's trauma on top of that.

AS FOR THE OTHER THREE:

-MATT FALLS OFF OF THE TOWER OF DREAD AND NEARLY DIES

-Nick has a personal vendetta against Dr Nimb because he kidnapped his father, he is heckin angy

-SABURO... (gestures to the entire Ghontu Kingdom arc) NEED I SAY MORE? Oh, and the fact he literally got kidnapped before meeting Cole.

[nickywhoisi]

OH MY GODRED IS IT FINALLY HAPPENING

Yes! I have finally made some pieces for my ttte gem!au, where they're pretty gem people, like that one 3d anime where everybody's gorgeous but sad things happen alllllll the tiiiiiime. This neat little world has some things like that, but not NEARLY as bad. I mean I'm all for pathos but I'm not a monster who would torture beloved characters. Yikes. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go read Houseki no Kuni online and prepare for Big Bad Moods(tm) and to wonder why the author hurt the baby so

Because I'm an old nerd who grew up with tatmr, I will begin with my two favourite brain synapses Lady and D10, as gem humanoids. If I were still doing gijinkas of the TV trains, they would also generally look like this, and I'm real happy with the hair designs. And the poses are sort of based off of one piece i made before IN A NOTEBOOK THAT WAS BLOODY STOLEN ALONG WITH PAGES AND PAGES OF OTHER ART I MADE, AND WHAT'S WORSE IS THAT INCLUDES THE ORIGINALS OF THE ART I DID POST, ALOT OF WHICH WAS UNFINISHED FGGFSFGHDGDFGGFFSDT guys it was so good I gave Lady a burger king crown to reference her gold funnel it would have been hilarious

Just like the canon, Lady is a big deal and D10 is still trying to destroy her. But the reason why this time around is a little more dramatic and cohesive. There is a clear reason why he hates her, and I wonder if you can possibly figure it out before I reveal it? There's a hint in the picture. How smart are you guys out there ô.ô

In the story, these two are, left to right, Yellow Chrysoberyl and Lady Gold. The gems usually refer to her as "their Lady", with lots of reverence, as she is the oldest living gem on Sodor. As for Chryso, he was a spunky gem even in the earlier days, until he began losing a lot of his crystal - he used to have longer hair. Then, when he lost one of his arms, was suddenly granted a fun augmentation of liquid copper that can morph into anything he wants. But the inclusion was...a bit painful? Sometimes it even shows mild sentience of it's own, and it now treats him like a friend. Though the very first thing it did was morph into a giant machine claw and try to crunch him...it didn't do much though. So Chryso got the idea to call it "Pinchy". But how exactly did he come across it? And what is Lady Gold's involvement?

[ordinariums-a]

@labwebs cont. from here

There's a pause, and Peter had to resist the urge to voice his guesses as to what happened. Because putting it all down to generic canon event-style 'yep, that's normal', wasn't going to make the other feel any better.

So, he pushes the nachos over to the other guy, and leans back. "What happened?"

[featherstcnes]

"you know me better than anyone else." - yasha for beau

the only sounds that were reaching beau's ears for what felt like a lifetime were just the sounds of crickets and other bugs in the night. and the voice of the woman next to her. she had been keeping watch with yasha for a bit while the rest stayed in the dome, the two of them sitting quite a few feet away and looking out on the horizon to ensure nothing would sneak up on them. she was exhausted, but she'd find sleep eventually after their turn keeping watch. beau played with a thread on her pants, looking at the ground for a few moments. her and yasha had been talking on and off all night, attempting to keep their minds off of the growing danger that was looming in the background. they hadn't been able to shake off lucien, not entirely. it was a shitty game of cat and mouse that left a bad taste in her mouth.

at yasha's words, beau looked over to her. she didn't speak for a moment, just studying the woman's face. did she really know yasha? sure, beau had been practically falling at her feet and making a fool of herself from the moment they met. but there were moments like this, moments where there was a bit of quiet blanket wrapped around them, where it felt like it was the two of them against the world. beau took a deep breath, putting her palms down on the ground as she sat and leaned back a bit. " sometimes i feel like you might be the only person who really gets me, too. "

there was a pause, turning her gaze back to yasha. there was a hint of a smile that tugged at one corner of her lips. " we've been through a ton of shit. and i trust you, you know? even if we get nothing coming out of all of this, i don't know, at least we got to do all of this together. " a beat. " i say that assuming we actually survive. "

i could live here forever, pt. 2. / accepting

[the-dragon-blade]

I know more than you. I have it and cherish it, keep my head high for it, stand for it. What about you? Are you running from it? Again?

His breath came rugged now, as if in inhales, as if oxygen wasn't enough. Something inside him was killing him, something in his heart was holding it so tight it felt like it could crush it at any moment...and the only way to survive that agony was to direct all his fury at this person who so sadistically taunted him.

"Good for fucking you!!!!", he screamed the words, as if it was pressure that was bloating his lungs.

"What the fuck do you want? A medal? A trophy?! To be told how amazing you are?? To dangle it in front of my face?? You know fucking nothing about me!!! Go enjoy your shit that you love so much then, and leave me the fuck alone!" What were they trying to tell him? That he was a coward? That he couldn't do even half of his part?

That he was broken?

He fucking knew that already!!

Wait...again....they knew....they knew!!!

He screamed, his body tensing so much that he started shaking, sparks flying off from all around him.

"SHUT UP!!!!!!"

[one-little-nerd-stayed-home]

ok crewless Normandy is definitely more unnerving than I thought it would be. Also once again I love Joker so much hes fucking nuts.

[variety-fangirl]

Oh, this is going to be a gooood ass series, I just know it!

Bells Ring (1)

Title: Fade Into You

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of body-shaming, infertility, infidelity, alcohol consumption. Suggestive imagery.

MDNI

“May ah have this dance?”

Starstruck. That’s the only possible way to describe exactly how you felt the first time your eyes met that sea of cerulean peeking through long, dark lashes and a quirked brow. You tensed immediately upon hearing the prince’s unmistakable dialect. It was as if your body wanted to swallow itself whole, curl into a tiny little sphere like a frightened millipede hiding from a predator. He cleared his throat and you were drawn from your trance, hastily placing your dance card into his outstretched palm.

You were not the diamond of the season, not even close. Not even a nugget of bronze. Overlooked by Queen Aiyla herself, you fit in most perfectly with the common ladies of the ton, bonding over petty gossip and drinking lemonade in the gardens. Although you had a larger stomach and a softer jawline than most other ladies, you were friendly, pleasant company, and they treated you as such. Neither notably wealthy nor tragically poor, you were comfortable and content somewhere in between.

“I do apologize for my hesitation, Your Highness,” you’d said timidly as he led you to the dance floor, placing one hand on his shoulder and keeping the other in his.

“No apologies necessary, ah assure ye,” he’d responded with a charming lopsided smile, smoothly pulling you into his strong arms as the dance commenced.

Ewan had kept you occupied all night, much to the dismay of every mama and all of the more eligible ladies for a man of his nobility. He may as well have signed his name in every slot of your dance card, as he did not let another soul near you for the entire duration of the time he spent at the ball. When the night was over and the two of you parted ways, you were nearly positive that you must have dreamt up the whole ordeal, a childlike fantasy for a girl larger and far more inferior than nearly the whole population.

But the next morning, he’d arrived at your home to call on you and wasted his entire afternoon teaching you Gaelic phrases as well as entertaining your excitement over poetry. Ewan was kind and patient, holding your gaze and admiring your other features when you looked away. He was enamored with your beauty, your voice, your passions , simple as they may have been. You could not deny the butterflies in your soft stomach that only fluttered when he was around, or the goosebumps that rose across your delicate skin whenever his fingers brushed over yours.

From then on, the prince had made up his mind, spending most of his time courting you, taking you on walks through the gardens where all of the other ladies you had been acquainted with now looked upon you with jealous scorn. Ewan seemed to enjoy keeping you on his arm, showing you off. It was maddening, the absolute hold he had on your love-struck heart.

On a particularly cool night that autumn, he had snuck you into the innermost part of the woods, away from the night owls of society and into a safe haven where it was just the two of you. He’d lifted your skirt and sunk to his knees, worshiping the sweetness between your thighs like it was the only thing he was made for. You hadn’t known anything to feel better, not until his plump lips entwined with yours as he lay you on the damp grass and showed you what heaven hid beneath his trousers.

In less than a quarter of a year, he had proposed to you, and even quicker than that, you were wedded. The two of you honeymooned in Greece before returning to Glasgow, which you now called home. Just like that, you went from sewing your own dresses and cooking your own meals to eating dinner with the King and Queen as the respectable Princess MacTavish. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but the long nights you spent in your husband’s chambers made it all worth it.

You wish you could say you don’t know where it all went wrong. It was bliss in the beginning, days mostly spent in bed with each other or having picnics in the castle garden. But when you failed to conceive a child after your first wedding anniversary, tensions grew between you and your beloved. Ewan was supportive at the start, holding you while you wept and assuring you that you were not broken, these things just take time.

But by the time your second anniversary came around and you still were not with child, he had already withdrawn. He stopped inviting you to his chambers and declined each of your advances, only bedding you after his mother commented on the lack of intimacy between the pair of you. Ewan had become a shell of the man he used to be, a fraud residing in the body of the tender-hearted lover you fell so hard for.

Communications between you and your husband had been reduced to those of business, financials and such. When you would make your afternoon rounds around the ton to have tea with the elderly widows or pick flowers with the children to give to their mamas, Ewan would stay inside to write or drink his stress away. You grew to hate the smell of scotch.

After an especially nasty argument, your husband informed you that he would be taking some time for himself to travel. He might as well have smacked you across the face—for such royalty to travel for leisure without his wife was a clear sign that their marriage was in distress.

But you, innocent and naive, weren’t aware that the ton you poured all of your time into befriending had already sensed the strain long ago. Vicious whispers shaming your barrenness, blaming it on your plush body or lack of care, floated into every ear willing to listen like rotten leaves being carried by the breeze. The servants looked at you with pity as you watched Ewan ride away in his carriage, and gave you space to cry when you should have been bathing or eating dinner.

You were midway through another crying spell when the letter arrived on a random Tuesday afternoon, delivered to you by one of the servant girls. Addressed to Ewan, who still had not returned, with the heady scent of floral perfume seeping through the paper. Disrespectful as it was, you opened the letter and read it through furrowed eyebrows.

My Beloved Ewan,

Every second that we are apart is a dagger to this weary heart of mine. I am aware that you must return home to your family, or lack thereof, but I cannot stand to be an ocean away from you any longer. Come a fortnight after you have received this letter, I will be on my way to make my home in Glasgow. You will no longer need to travel to see me. Anytime you need me, I will be there. Until I am with you once more, hold this close to your heart and feel mine beat with yours. I belong to you entirely, ma chérie.

Coralie

You could practically feel your heart drop down to your stomach, bile rising until you abandoned the letter and your feet carried you to the drawing room. You emptied the contents of your belly into the chamber pot, hot tears accompanying the sting in your throat.

You desired to curl up into a ball the same way you wanted to the first time you met him. Perhaps your hesitation wasn’t something to have been ashamed of back then, rather an older and wiser version of yourself attempting to protect you from her inevitable heartbreak.

That Thursday, you heard the news that Ewan had returned, but you made no effort to reunite with him. The thought of seeing his face made you sick. The one who was supposed to be yours and yours alone had given his heart to another. Ultimately, however, a formal dinner invitation from King MacTavish could not be avoided.

Now, on an especially gloomy Saturday, here you sit at a silent dining table opposite your infidel husband, with your clueless in-laws in the same respective position on the other sides.

[johnlennonbignaturals]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOKOYAMI ⋆ ·˚ ༘ *

[snakes-in-mirrors]

I returned from the hospital, where I had an x-ray and the doctor said to come back in 3 weeks for the final x-ray and removal of the cast. I'm really happy that I don't have a bone misalignment or something, because it *could have happened* and I was VERY nervous about it. 😭💛 Also, I know that you should never google diagnoses yourself, but I did it after the x-ray while I was waiting for the doctor and I had a little panic haha... (I'm glad everything turned out okay but my other hand is still shaking a little)

[tiredeldritchhorror]

Just a little sneak peak of what’s to come, excuse the bad quality and sketchiness 😭, I really love Shadow Milk’s shapeshifting, especially when it’s used for manipulation/emotional damage

[silverxbeauty]

Her mouth hung agape, preparing to speak, but before Allison could do so, the image of her mother came right out of the darkness. She began to pace around her daughter with a stern look plastered over her face. If he's with the monsters, he's no better. He's one of them. What are you waiting for? The huntress had been guided into this direction, right? This was what her parents wanted her to do, wasn't it? "This can't be the right thing to do..." she whispered quietly, not sure if Stiles had even heard her. How could it be right to kill a human? Hadn't that been a rule, to not go after humans? We hunt those who hunt us, remember? Do it, Allison.

Stiles had heard it, sure, but he’d also felt it. Felt it whip through the air as it shot passed him. His heart was pounding in his chest, as he opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, at the arrow that had been aimed so perfectly close. Stiles took a steadying breath, and looked back at her, as he purposefully and very stubbornly stepped to the left, lining himself up perfectly with where she’d just shot. Stiles knew this wasn’t a bluff. He knew her better than that. So why didn’t he just get out of the way? He was scared enough to, sure, but all his legs seemed to do was move him more into the line of fire. “Maybe I don’t want you to.” He said then, voice low.

[art-crosternum]

Baptiste

♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

7 days until release !!

[ratatatastic]

i love the poker table and all the shit that has come from it if not because you can see exactly who's the loudest persistent bitch there and who exactly finds that endearing spoiler alert its exactly who you think it is womp womp

deeply important to me on a "whos the best and whos the worst at the table" maffhew and benny insisting forsy is the best because of his good pokerface and his consistency and even swaggy agrees that forsy is pretty good meanwhile benny cant help adding an "ekky thinks he's the best" while he's at it and swaggy has to get his two cents in as well: "and [ekblad] thinks he's pretty good."

and when forsy gets asked best and worst he decides he can't say worse and instead only lists the people he think are the good and: "ekky's pretty good actually but he's very... he's a little bit more wild so he's got some big swings."

and at first it's like oh maybe this is a benny/swaggy bullying ekky moment as they're prone to wont to do (ekky deserves it and likes it) but then forsy immediately says afterwards that c*usins is: "but i think nick c*usins. hes doing pretty good. yeah, I know, I know... we're gonna get him though."

which immediately discredits why he thinks ekky is a good player because both benny AND demers were like c*usins is the WORST at poker

and if you think oh forsy is just a carebear of a man and he cant choose the worst- NO HE DOES NOT. HE ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT BECAUSE in the same interview he has no qualms of naming lundy as the worst playoff beard (2nd year in a row btw): "its gotta be one of the finns probably... lundy" and calling out luosty for his culinary abominations: "luosty is eating—he's putting raw onions in the pasta which is... yeah thats a little... weirdo, weirdo!"

this is just forsy whos very bad at hiding his bias and will warp the world in favour of it because he'd rather die than not pick ekky for TWO whole questions (best at poker and best playoff beard)

and with primetime panthers we learned that ekkys too loud and pushy for both benny and swaggys taste that they both elected him as the worst seatmate on the team plane which is so comical that mr. im not very good at poker but I still sit with them and get shocked when ekky bounds over and wants me to play too would say such a thing huh

and the double whammy is that swaggy prefers forsys who's the complete opposite of ekky

and i just think everyone going, forsy is nice quiet and reserved in his facial expressions and ekky is loud insistent and not as good as he thinks he is, is just sooooooooooo