#Sorry I'm tagging loads

[idklackingimaginationapologies2]

hi....Broadchurch fic idea?

okay so, I have an idea for a fic but I lack the time, talent and energy to write it. So I'm looking for someone to write it.

I have nothing to offer anyone, but if somehow someone would like to write it, or add more bullet points to it or draw it, please do, and please tell me about it.

If you would like to do something with it or if you know someone who I can send an ask or something to who would maybe be interested, please reply.

This idea has been bouncing around my head for a while and I'm becoming obsessed with it, but it needs fleshing out.

Idk how good it is but here it is (it's a little vague, sorry)

Okay so:‌

• Alec and Ellie were childhood friends (this in itself is an idea I really like, especially if they didn't realise they knew each other for a while, I think they sort of did suggest that Alec had been to Broadchurch as a child which intrigued me)‌

• Alec is a trans man and Ellie met him before he transitioned (maybe part of the reason why she didn't recognise him, Alec also maybe wouldn't recognise her but because he's bad at faces)‌

• Alec was a sad child, I don't know why but I feel like his father was awful, his mother was probably alright but don't know‌

•Ellie and Alec can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing ‌

•angst, hurt comfort (when they are children, when they're adults, both, I don't mind)

• ‌would be sweet if one or both of them were sort of talking about this friend they had when they were younger (not realising it's the other) and then they slowly realise their memories match up?‌

•also had this idea of maybe when they first met one of them gave the other something ( I was originally thinking Ellie finding sad Alec on the beach while looking for seashells and giving him one, and then she finds it in his house many years later) ‌

• I sort of feel like Alec didn't have that many friends even when he was younger so he probably kept the seashell because it really meant a lot to him? Maybe Ellie or someone Ellie teases him for it later and he gets kinda teary and embarrassed because it really did mean a lot to him, and then they talk

• ‌also feel like Alec is autistic

If anyone wants to make something out of any of this or expand on any parts or write a fic based off of this I'd love to see it!!!

[ninthriven]

Micah-10 & Mihaylova

[clowndotgay]

ooh... do you think you could do the Bird Cogs hanging out? (Redd, Buck, Tawney... maybe a silly HR and low ballers...)

sure! i added a couple more cogs, hope you don't mind! version without shading under the cut

i think high roller is like an urban legend to a bunch of lower level street cogs n whatnot. nobodys quite sure if she exists, but they occasionally pop up in random locations (such as the weekly bird dinner) to cause general chaos for no reason

[kiraman]

Why is everyone convinced Vi will become an enforcer? I don't get it

Arcane is an origins story and in league lore Violet is known as THE piltover enforcer. Caitlyn becomes the sheriff and Vi is her trusted partner.

In this official poster, Vi's enforcer gear from the game is layered over her regular outfit from the show.

this is what the arcane Vi skin looks like in the game. Just like the poster. Looks to me like a mix of the two (arcane & league vi)

Also, riot is making the show. It's not some independent project, someone who's bought the rights to it. It's all part of the same universe. I'm not saying things could not go differently in the show but they did promote it as such and I fully trust Amanda Overton and the rest of the writing team to tell her story. So far the characters, setting, dialog, and plot all have worked together flawlessly to create season 1's cohesive narrative. I don't think that's gonna change going into season 2 and onwards.

[normalmcguy]

I AM PLURAL I AM FRIENDLY I AM APPROACHABLE YOU CAN DM ME THAT'S WHAT THIS POST IS ABOUT. I AM BEFRIENDABLE, TRY IT

HELLO HELLO my name is Normal Guy because i don't care to publicly go by my source name and i kind of just didn't care to find a real name to replace that original placeholder, you can also call me Norm or Marty being that they're both short for Normal Guy.* pronouns wise, you can call me he or like if you really want it or they or actually pretty much whatever, mostly just that he/him stuff

i'm one of like 5 current hosts in my system and i'm like woah i just checked it turns out on this day i've turned 100 days old in this system that's actually crazy to me. i mean woah. anyways i'm a factive of an old old friend's fictive** which means i have a connection to a source we know like nothing about except what we learned through osmosis back when we were friends and so basically i picked up a lot of what is probably just some sect of fanon

i'm a HUGE bike guy like that's my main hobby i have to bike like every single time i front type thing, that's gonna be like. my 'get to know me' fact for this intro post. i have an E-bike that i love more than anything in this world it has a name you can dm me and ask. i say this both to create mystery and allure about myself and to provide an adequate conversation starter. because i'm so nice and all that.

i do my best not to get into discourse of most types, but real quick i wanna make it clear that i believe in and support endogenic systems and don't care to debate on that. in case that's something that would prevent you from reaching out or whatever, feel like i oughta make that one clear

*i'm sorry that bit's a lie, Marty is not actually short for normal guy. if you didnt know.

**i have the source in the tags i'm not putting that shit out in the open because it's like a whooole complex thing for me (i mean i have a good few friends outside of the system and literally not a single one knows my source. i have genuinely only ever shared my source with people within this system so you're gonna have to work (open the tags and read like 2 more lines of yapping) to see that one) also i'm not that connected to begin with just basic pseudomemories

[humblefryingpan]

We're getting kinda close to October so a little upsetting remember - if you have a black cat keep them inside on and around halloween

The reason is pretty bad and kinda gory so I put it under the cut

Since black cats are associated with evil and witches, people will kill them, abuse them and/or perform rituals on them in October

Some people have kidnapped cats and killed them, or tied fireworks to them, some people have done rituals and 'sacrificed' them

Most pet shops/animal rescues won't let people adopt cats around halloween because of the sick things people do to them (and because the ones that live usually get sent back right after halloween)

It's sick and so wrong, I keep my cat in for most of the month because I don't want him in danger and I should not have to do that. So protect your cats, don't be a dick and happy halloween

[outlying-hyppocrate]

okay so. head hurts. stomach hurts. somewhat drowsy. but. i slept for just a little while and had some water and that was nice. also typing everything right is very very hard please bear with me.

[kelpiemomma]

It was a knock at the door that pulled Ingo out of a deep slumber.

It was not frantic, not a sound that had him leaping out of his bed in a panic, but it was firm. Insistent. It compelled him to emerge from the warm comfort of his blankets, piled and wrapped atop of a straw bed to block the chill of the night, and to the thin wooden door blocking the chill and snow. He stumbled in the dark, tripping over smoothed wood and catching himself on the wall of the hut. His hand grasped the coat he’d hung up before crawling into bed and he pulled it down, wrapping it around himself like a protective cloak. Still with no light, and no real thought process beyond answer the door, Ingo pulled it open.

“How may I-” he began the sentence through a yawn, cut off midway by the sight before him.

The ground was lit by the moon in the sky, bright enough that Ingo could clearly see the person who had woken him up. It was impossible to determine an immediate gender so Ingo didn’t even bother to try. Whoever they were had long hair, a light gold that nearly appeared white in the moonlight. They had a long, stern nose with a flat bridge. Their gaze was flat and serious, lips thin as they stared down - very, very far down - at Ingo. At full height Ingo was a few inches taller than those around him within the village, but this person made him feel like a child. If his head came up to their chest he would be surprised. They were dressed in what appeared to be an old-fashioned white robe, the wind carrying across the valley lifting it gently before placing it back down as though it was the most delicate fabric. Intricate golden details laced the trim. Perhaps it was the sleep but it seemed to Ingo’s mind that the trim was… moving. One moment he thought there was a sun rising over a valley, and in the next it seemed to be some sort of battle between two pokemon. Hands appeared and disappeared, a wave of appraisal and worship before sinking down into a wave.

Rubbing his eyes to clear the odd sight - and upon second glance, the delicate lace no longer slipped through design - Ingo took a second look. Their height had not decreased at all but he was able to notice something new. Something that, somehow, he had missed in his awed staring. The person’s arms were wrapped around their chest in a cradling position. A blanket, the color of which he’d never seen before, was swaddled tightly. Though the hold was confident there was also a looseness to it that sent alarm bells ringing through Ingo’s mind, waking him up further. As he opened his mouth to speak the bundle moved, a tiny fist raising itself from the blanket and pounding on the person’s chest. Barely a moment later, a piercing cry erupted from the blanket as well. The stranger did not blink. They barely seemed to notice the noise at all. Their hooded green gaze had not left Ingo’s face.

“Is that- are you carrying a child? Are you hurt? Are they hurt? Here, please- come inside, I’ll get a fire started! It’s awfully cold tonight; a baby shouldn’t be out in this weather.” Ingo reached out impulsively, grasping for a sleeve and ending up with an arm ful of wailing baby. He pulled the child close to his chest in surprise, looking down into light eyes full of tears. The infant hiccuped through their tears, arm waving furiously. He grasped the limb gently to protect his own face only for his hand to be pulled down towards the babe’s face. They immediately began gnawing on his fingers, the wail dying gradually as they found something to occupy themself. The cold was forgotten.

Something clicked into place.

“Warden Ingo,” the person before him finally spoke, pulling Ingo’s gaze reluctantly away from the baby, “I leave her to you.”

“I’m sorry? I’m- I’m not a Warden? I'm just- a guest. Why are you- are you leaving? Are you leaving your child behind?” Anger rose in his chest. Was this infant being abandoned? Directly into his arms?!

“She was never meant to join this world. She was not part of my plan. I heard the world cry and there she was.”

“Do you need help? If you can’t raise her on your own you may join the village, I’m sure. They would be willing to take in a parent in need!”

“I am not her parent. I brought her into existence but she is not mine. She never has been and never will be.” There was a darkness in the person’s eyes, a bitter sort of anger laying under those words. They were sharp, pointed enough that the baby wiggled in Ingo’s arms and let out a high-pitched whine. Immediately he rubbed their - her? - cheek, the whine slipping into a gurgle. His fingers were pulled and tugged on until the baby managed to slip a fingertip into their mouth, chewing on his limb. Ingo’s gaze never left the person’s before him, though they finally dared to look away from him. Their flat expression became something like a sneer as they looked down before it was schooled into disinterest once again.

“As you were never meant to be here either, I leave her to you. I would bid that you take care not to lose her and do not tell others where she came from.” The person slid their hands into their sleeves, the gold filigree flashing blindingly bright as the sleeves made contact. Ingo turned away to block his and the child’s eyes. “Not even I know where she may end up next time.”

When the light faded and Ingo could look again the person was gone. He took several steps forward, looking around to try and see where they had vanished to, but not even the snow gave a hint at what direction the person had gone in. Only the moon looked down at Ingo, the light solemn and soft. He turned his gaze to the infant in his arms; cheeks were being carelessly bitten by the wind and turning red, eyes wrinkled up in discomfort and watery, but his finger remained chewed on. Despite the infant’s abandonment, they didn’t appear disturbed. In fact they appeared… content. As the chill nipped insistently at Ingo’s bare feet, driving him back into his hut to pull the door shut, so did the baby’s eyes. They let out a gurgling noise, grip tightening on Ingo’s fingers, and then they began to snore.

Ingo rubbed his face, trudging back towards his bed. There were things he needed to do and yet- something pushed him towards the blankets. He pushed them to the side, keeping the infant in one hand while removing his long coat. Using it and a blanket he created a nest to cradle the little one in. As he set the child inside, covering them with one of his sleeves, they sighed in what he could have mistaken for content. One chubby fist grabbed the wristband of his coat while the other migrated to the infant’s mouth, thumb settling into place as though it belonged there. Half awake and half aware, Ingo prepared his own blankets upon his straw bed. He put the infant between himself and the wall, and then hesitated before moving them between himself and the opening of the room. Then he hesitated again- the wall would be colder, but perhaps safer, right? If the baby was facing the room it might roll out of the blankets and fall off the bed. It wasn’t a long drop by any means, but still! He swapped the child to the other side once again, wrapping another blanket around and over the nest, and then laid there.

What had just happened? Where had the baby’s parent gone? They had said they weren’t, but where else could it have come from? Had it been stolen?

Despite his concern that these thoughts would keep him awake, another force pulled Ingo’s eyelids down and he drifted off to sleep.

It was a knock at the door that pulled Ingo out of slumber.

The sound was quick and heavy, quickly joined by a voice.

“Mr Ingo! Are you awake?”

It was not so much a genuine question as much as it was a wakeup call. One that he was used to at this point. Several months among the Pearl Clan had helped him come to understand not only their language but their habits- he was needed, and so they were waking him.

Sunlight warmed the wooden floor as Ingo slipped out from under his blankets and padded across the floor. His head felt fuzzy and he felt a little confused; his jacket was not hanging up where he had put it the night before and there was a small snowdrift on one side of the door. He looked at it curiously, trying to figure out where it had come from, as he opened the door.

Irida stood before him, her gaze slightly narrowed and her brows drawn tight. Rather than angry he could see the stress in her expression, the way she held herself. He wondered what had happened.

“Good morning, Miss Irida.” ingo said. “How may I be of help?”

“Mr Ingo, it’s almost afternoon. We had a large amount of snowfall last night and need your help. Since you’re an early riser we thought you had already gone out- are you ill to have slept so long?” She asked. “We can’t have anyone else getting sick not so soon after the last wave!”

Ingo blinked, shaking his head and raising a hand. He had arrived, lost and freezing, to the Pearl Clan at the tail end of a lingering sickness. Though he had been cold he had also been healthy and immediately stepped in to help the recovering clan; distrustful members had warily guided the confused man around the territory to gather berries and check game. They doubted his memory loss but couldn’t afford to deny his aid. To many he had been a necessary evil. To some, he still was. To Irida, who was still young but in the running to lead the clan, he was a goal.

“I apologize, Miss Irida. I woke up last night after having a very strange dream. It must have taken me a while to fall asleep, if I indeed slept until noon. I will get ready to help.”

He went to close the door so he could dress, sighing out, “the moon was so bright it seemed to be daylight.”

Irida shot him a look.

“Mr Ingo, there was no moon at all last night.” She stated. “It’s why we didn’t see the amount of snow until this morning, despite the watch.”

Ingo froze.

“No,” he said slowly, “no, there very much was a moon. In fact, there was a person as well. They-”

From his bed came a piercing wail. Ingo froze and Irida jumped.

“Mr Ingo,” she said after a moment of listening to the crying child, “is that a baby?”

Pulled out of his panic by her words Ingo rushed to pick the child up. A terrible smell greeted his nose as he removed the baby from the nest of blankets and coat.

“There was a moon,” he said as he stared at the crying child, “it was full and bright, and-”

“Moon later, baby now.” Irida said, taking the infant from his hands. She paused, and then glared at him. “Baby explanation later, baby cleanup now. Where do you keep your changing supplies?”

“She was a… a gift,” Ingo replied dumbly; somehow it felt like the right description, “I have nothing.”

Irida stared at him in complete confusion and irritation before she sighed.

“Baby explanation later, finding the baby new nappies and…. ergh, new clothes now.” She exited his hut with the wailing child. As if pulled by a string Ingo followed, barely slipping his shoes on before stumbling into the soft snow that had yet to be cleared from in front of his home. He ignored the stares as Irida marched - baby held in front of her like a shield - to the home of Calaba. The old Warden was opening the door before they were within ten feet of the house, watching them approach with barely concealed displeasure. She allowed them in with pursed lips and the shake of her head.

Ingo dreaded to know what she was thinking.

As he watched Irida strip the infant to clean her, all the while narrating what she was doing as if Ingo was paying that much attention, one set of words caught his ear.

“I’m sorry, Miss Irida, I am- I am a little… a little off course. Could you please repeat yourself?”

She shot him an irritated glare over her shoulder. This one was truly angry with him; he would be sure to get an earful later. Though she was mostly fair she was also a hot-headed young woman determined to become the next lead of the clan. It was possible this had just hurt her chances.

“I said, Mr Ingo, what’s her name?”

“Her name?” He repeated, “I- I don’t know. They… she didn’t come with a name.”

“They normally don’t,” Calaba snapped from behind him, “which is why their parents give them one. She may be a little young for a name yet- she doesn’t look that old. You moved awfully quick Mr Ingo.” Her tone left no room for doubt- she believed that he had impregnated someone and left them, only for them to return the favor and deposit the baby on his doorstep.

“Warden Calaba, she’s not mine. Someone- someone stopped by last night, in the full moon, and gave her to me. Surely one of the watch noticed them!” He turned to her in an attempt to defend himself. Calaba snorted and crossed her arms.

“It was a new moon, Mr Ingo. There was no light at all. Perhaps you made your own light- did you track someone down and take their child?”

“I would never! That is- that is a horrible thing to insinuate, Warden Calaba, regardless of your affection or lack thereof for me! There were no footprints outside my door, were there? I couldn’t have gone anywhere!” He spun to face Irida. She was tying a new diaper onto the baby, ignoring the wails in her ears.

“With the amount of snowfall last night, footsteps would’ve disappeared quickly Mr Ingo.” She answered sorrowfully. She was loathe to agree with Warden Calaba and her harsh tongue.

“Do you believe I stole this child?” Ingo demanded of her.

Irida finished wrapping the infant, handing her back to Ingo. Only once she was in his arms, face buried in his chest as she gripped his tunic tightly with chubby fists, did she quiet. WIth her wails ceased the silence prevailed in the room as Ingo stared at Irida, who looked between himself and Calaba. If the warden didn’t like her, her chances of achieving leadership would drop even further.

“No,” Irida finally said, “in all the time you’ve been here, you haven’t come off as that sort of person, regardless of how others have seen you. But the baby-”

“I don’t know where she came from. I awoke to a knock at my door last night and someone gave her to me. They did not introduce themselves, only told me not to lose her, and then they left. I thought it was a dream until she began to cry after soiling herself.” Ingo said firmly. He turned to look at Calaba as he spoke, meeting her impassive gaze firmly. There was a tense moment until she grunted and looked away.

“So a mystery person dropped a baby onto a stranger’s lap.” She muttered.

“I’ll organize a search party,” Irida said, “a couple. If they were around last night then they must be nearby- the snow was falling much too heavy and quickly for them to have gotten far.”

Ingo understood the insinuation- they were, most likely, looking for a corpse.

“Until then… we should find her a home with a wetnurse, and-” Irida went to take the child from Ingo despite having just deposited her back into his arms. He tightened his grip just as Irida’s hands clasped onto her sides. Feeling the other touch the baby began to scream. Irida immediately stepped back, covering her ears, while Ingo turned away and rocked from side to side. She quieted after a few moments, gurgling quietly against his chest once more. Ingo and Irida looked at each other. She reached out to take the baby again. Ingo didn’t tighten his grasp this time, slightly holding her away from him, but as soon as Irida touched her she opened her mouth to scream once more.

Irida stepped back, expression turning to confusion. “She won’t let me take her.” She said.

Calaba scoffed.

“She’s an infant. Give her here, she’ll quiet down if you just hold her a moment.” She demanded.

Ingo reluctantly handed the baby over. Just like with Irida, as soon as Calaba had a hold of her she began to shriek her displeasure. Calaba pulled her close and began to rock her as Ingo had, but as the minutes passed on the shrieking turned to sobs. Like the night before the baby raised her fists, pounding on Calaba’s chest to express her displeasure. One of them must have nailed the older woman well because she let out a surprised breath, her arms’ hold weakening momentarily. Ingo was there in a heartbeat, reaching out to take hold of the girl.

Once she was back in his arms she began to grow quiet, wrapping a hand in his tunic as her sobs turned to crying, turning to whines that quieted into hiccuping breaths as he rocked her. Her teary eyes met his gaze with an unexpected intensity. She held onto his tunic in a way that, were she an adult, Ingo would believe to be some desperation. Don’t let me go, she seemed to be begging, don’t let them take me away!

I won’t, Ingo thought back, I won’t let them take you. I promise.

“Well,” Irida said after a moment, “I believe that she wishes to stay with Ingo.”

“Hmph. She’ll still need a wetnurse unless he’s hiding milk behind that tunic.” Calaba said the words dismissively. “He’ll also need to learn how to change her, and get her clothes, and-”

“Akari.” Ingo said, breaking the sentence.

“Who? We don’t have an Akari in the village. Is that her mother?” Irida asked, approaching. She kept a distance from the baby, preparing to step back in case the screaming started once more. Wrapped in Ingo’s arms the baby met her gaze placidly.

“No. It’s… her. Her name.” Ingo trailed a finger from the girl’s forehead, where small wisps of dark hair were already threatening to fall in her face, down over her nose. She smiled and giggled, wrapping a hand around Ingo’s finger and shaking it. Ingo couldn’t help but think she must feel excited.

“Her name is Akari.”

[togepies]

nothing like sending multiple emails about a time sensitive thing, getting no response until said thing is overdue, THEN being told "I need this thing done by the end of the day today"

not only that but my brain actively works against me if I'm doing said thing, then someone tells me to get said thing done, and it's literally this

[tevintersoldier]

did i just buy inquisition game of the year edition on steam because it's on sale (90% off!!) and so cheap? yes. do i have anything to play it on? no. is this my fucking third copy of this game? ... yes

[missremember]

Boo! It's a Halloween story! Enjoy!

[singsweetmelodies]

KATIE! YOURE BACK AT BEING A RED CAR! YOU NO LONGER HAVE A FACE! 💕💕💕💕💕 hahahaha ily

ahahahaha, INDEED 🤣🤣👌 aren't i stunning 😌

ilysm, lmfao

[i-am-lakuna]

I LOVE the way each character is decorated with their flags!! Very yummy art and it's reminding me I need to draw stuff for pride month- don't know who yet tbh because THERE ARE SO MANY CHARACTERS TO CHOOSE FROM. not complaining tho, I love how many cannon lgbtq characters there are. Even in shows/movies where they tend not to say things/show things as much I feel like there's quite a lot of implied rep. On that note shout out to the tfp fandom for shipping KOBD so hard it ended up as cannon ^^

a bit of pride themed doodling,,

(hcs/flags are largely just me being goofy dont take them too seriously)

[arthropooda]

Real fucked up that the current generation of Premiere Pro has literally never functioned on any machine I've used ever in my life, not even in university, not even on machines costing thousands of dollars. And you're expected to pay a subscription for this garbage

[vaaaaaiolet]

For the ask game - I actually followed cause of your reblogs with pretty aesthetic pics of Leon... is that vain to say? LMFAO sorry omg, but can you imagine my shock when you dropped the cowboy Leon fic and I got to read your writing? I saw god, yee-fucking-haw it seriously had me gawking at my screen - you are clearly an extremely skilled author and I'm so glad to see your works pop up on my dash :) <3

CHUNK OH GMSOGSHOSHO stop that is such a compliment...someone is out there watching my gifs...please kiss me

COWBOY LEON FIC OURAHOGHG i reread your comments from it STILL 😭😭😭 you had me smiling so hard my cheeks hurt <333

AND SAME TO YOU!! your reblogs make me giggle so much i'm so glad to have you on here :) MWAH!!

(anon) ask game: what fic brought you to my blog?

[autumnoakes]

(id: the results of a mental health questionnaire on an iphone. the results show that the person who took the questionnaire is probably experiencing severe anxiety and depression)

thanks apple health. i'm aware.