#and that is so unbelievably special to me

[vaimetanyx]

Ah nectar, the drink of the Gods

Also known as potion of burn your fingers because you're bad at using lighters and refuse to turn your ceiling fan off

(Full process under the cut)

[Skull pauldron] [Belt] [Greaves] [Toga + sash] [Wig + Laurels] [Armbands] [Flaming feet] [Satyr Sack] [Stygius v1] [Stygius v2] [Nectar]

I really love being able to give out in-character items while in cosplay, and I figured nectar, as a semi-common friendship leveling item, would be perfect. Originally I was going to try sculpting them out of sculpy or something and then I realised I would be unsatisfied with the end result so I bought bought 50 tiny glass bottles off aliexpress

To get the golden-orange filling I experimented with a few things - while the one I was happiest with was a clear PVA glue mixed with watercolour paint pigment for colour and gold pearlescent pigment for shine, it wouldn't set, and I didn't want to deal with a liquid considering I have a long history of just bashing the shit out of things if I'm not very careful, and I don't want to spend my whole con day taking special care of tiny glass bottles. So, I ended up using resin! Coloured the same way as the glue, this was my first time using resin and while I would have liked less bubbles it turned out well

To get the weird blobby looking cork the ends were dipped in wax by my sister, who mixed a few colours together and let the bottles dry upside down to get the right shape

I used two types of ribbon for my two lots of bottles (nearly 100 bottles have been made up to this point), but both were a purple satin. After trying the bow in a way that would let it sit in the right direction and burning the ends with a lighter to seal them and prevent them from fraying, I used clear PVA glue to stiffen the ribbon and secure it. While drying I used a bit of blutack to get the ends to dry straight down rather than to the sides

Then, because small trinkets are nice but can be difficult to carry around all day at a con, I attached some string which is just purple embroidery thread I had lying around. Unfortunately I did too much of a good job tying the ribbon tightly for some of them since I had to use wire and pliers to actually get it under the ribbon to tie it on

But all the finicky work is worth it, they're very cute when complete

(Psst - if you're an Australian con-goer (specifically Supanova) keep an eye out for me on the floor - I give these out to the hades fans I meet!)

[blathannabeaga]

.☽༊˚ three word prompts; “go to sleep.”

bobby x reader

feat. an alternative post-2x04 setting, qrf leader!bobby x qrf!reader, semi-hidden relationship, minor disassociation/emotional distress on the reader's part, but plenty comfort to follow it

​​Despite the fact that no one took so much as a scratch in damage, the flight back to Bliss feels like one of mourning.

The drone of the helo’s blades and the roar of wind fills your ears, even above the rush of blood pumping through your head. Despite the hot crush of your teammates’ solid, tac’d-up bodies all around you, your mind is already reeling you back into the empty cold of the warehouse, and what you found there; five hundred children, five hundred faces, five hundred sets of eyes following you everywhere you go.

They see you through the descent to the airstrip, through the clamber off the bird and across the floodlight-lit tarmac to the hangar. Staring as you get out of your gear, unblinking as you try and scarf down some of what Randy throws together for you - the only time they look away is when the lump in your throat grows too big to swallow around, and you hastily excuse yourself from the table before the guilt chokes you altogether.

In the showers, fine desert sand runs off your skin and swirls down the drain in pale spirals. The water’s hot, too hot, but it gives you respite from the days-old strains in your back and hips and most of all, forces your thoughts away from little sets of scared eyes and remote warehouses for a few blissful minutes. 

Like all good things, though, your revery is cut short by Carillo’s blunt entrance into the bathroom.

You dry off and dress without paying her much mind - after her outburst of a confession, you’re at even more of a loss as to where to stand with her. The rest of the team had chided you in the beginning about your treatment of her - that you were too trusting, too sweet, too naive to the ways of the programme given your short time on it. Your defence had been that you’d treated Cruz the same way, and she’d turned out solid as solid came; but now, with things standing they way they do, the uncomfortable reality is that you may owe your teammates an apology.

When you emerge back onto the hangar floor, there’s a little more life to be found than when you’d exited. Two Cups and Tex have taken up their habitual spots on the couch, and are in the throes of a new Black Ops campaign, with Tucker and Tracer passively observing from the sidelines as they clean down their pistols - and perhaps the nicest sight is Randy and Cruz cleaning up the galley together, deep in conversation and trading fire with the guys from across the room. You have kept up with Cruz, from that night in Majorca and all through her deployment in Africa, so you had an idea of how she was doing - but it still does so much for your heart to see her with a smile on her face, after all she’s been through at the programme’s hands.

One person is missing, the one you’d most be hoping to see; but there’s no doubt in your mind that she’ll be quick to reemerge. 

The fatigue is getting harder to ignore, spreading throughout your body and slowing you down like each step is taken whilst wading through thick molasses. The cheap, thin material of your cot feels like the most plush and expensive of mattresses under your touch as you sit, and slowly start getting ready to turn in for the night.

Footfalls sound from over your left shoulder, but you’re too focused on squaring away your kit to notice until they stop right in front of you. Your eyes take in a khaki-clad pair of strong legs and a slim waist highlighted by a snug tank top before a familiar hand is landing on your cheek, and directing your gaze upwards until you meet hers.

These last few missions have aged Bobby - adding a subtle twinge of silver to her hairline, the start of new lines on her handsome face, a newfound heaviness in how she carries herself. But these developments only serve as proof that she’s fought through every dark and treacherous thing that this job has put her through to make it back to your side, so you’ll embrace them gratefully for as long as she’ll let you. 

The softening of your eyes must be more visible than you realise, because an easy smile is quick to take over her face. She traces the pad of her thumb over the familiar curve of your cheekbone and, wordlessly, you understand that the touch is charged with all the things she can’t say right now - things that, though the love you both have for the rest of the QRF is endless, just aren’t meant for their ears. 

“Try and get some rest, baby.” A gravelly quality undercuts her low voice, betraying her own fatigue after the night just past. You cup the back of her strong thigh in your hand, soothing your fingers over sore, toned muscle through thick cotton, a charged gesture of your own to show her that you’re here for her too.

You nod your understanding, but draw it out to keep her closer for another few seconds. Though it really hasn’t been that long since you’ve been off-duty and had each other all to yourselves for a few blissful weeks, it’s been long and rough enough for this little intimacy to feel like a gift - one that you don’t feel like giving up just yet. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her smile takes on a sly quality, and she taps your bottom lip in an approving way that you enjoy a little too much. She lowers her voice as she speaks, despite the chorus of conversation all around you, and offers a wink as she departs. “There we go.” 

Four hours later, staring at the lofty hangar ceiling, the warmth of Bobby’s presence and the promise behind her eyes are about the only things stopping you from completely losing your mind. 

As used to Tex’s snoring and Two Cup’s nocturnal fridge-raids as you are, tonight they wear on your nerves to a new height. Any other time, you’d be able to tune them out into the comfortable white noise they’ve grown to be and drift off to sleep anyways, but now, when those innumerate sets of little eyes are still hovering in your periphery, everything that isn’t dead silence only prolongs your torment.

Hands knotted tensely over your stomach, the cool night air stings against the open flesh around your nail beds where you’ve picked the skin raw. Ceaseless tossing and turning has only caused the stiffness in your back and hips to intensify, and as another painful strain sounds in your lower back as you turn over onto your side again, the sour note of defeat that settles low in your gut is harsh enough for tears to prick at your tired eyes.

You’re pulling at the thin, army-issued blanket over your lower half in search of warmth when a gruff whisper-shout from two cots over cuts through the quiet. “Go to sleep.”

Tucker, half-awake, grumbles at Bobby but she only aims a kick at his blanket-covered legs in response. Judging by his groan of annoyance it connects and you hide a smile behind your cheap pillow as the hangar settles back into silence once more.

Twenty minutes later, when you twist onto your other side and are seriously contemplating getting up and just starting your day now, a rustling of blankets and a heavy set of footfalls break the silence. You’re ready to unleash bloody murder on Two Cups if you have to tolerate his godawful belching in addition to your own self-contained torment, but the footsteps don’t lead to the galley and instead weave down the line of bunks and right in front of yours. Prying tired eyes apart, your addled mind is still trying to make sense of the situation when a wall of cool air hits you as Bobby grasps the threadbare blankets up off of you, and slips underneath them in next to you.

Surprise forces you cognizant, and she’s still fussing around to get comfortable when you rasp out something between a question and a protest. “Bobby- “

“What, you don’ want me no more?” The squeaks and groans of the cot adjusting to both your weights is almost louder than her lowered interjection, but as she settles down and tucks one toned arm under the pillow beneath your head and drapes the other over your waist, her words grow clearer. “Cold, baby.”

It’s suffocating - the sudden closeness of her embrace, the hot press of her body against yours, the love that she couldn’t hide beneath a thousand gruff mock-dismissals or unsuitable situations. Now, she doesn’t even seem to want to; and that’s even more overwhelming.

Almost borne of muscle memory, you grasp her waist and crook your legs so she can tangle hers with them. Her cheek presses against your temple, leaving you to nestle your face into the tender place where the hinge of her jaw meets her neck. You’ve grown breathless without meaning to, and the grace of your lips over the soft skin makes Bobby shift in not displeasure. “You sure?”

Her chest rumbles low against yours as she makes a noise of assent. The warm, comforting flat of her palm finds purchase in the divot of your lower back and soothes over the sore musculature as she nods, and feels an intoxicating notion of pride glow in her chest as you relax into her.

“I’m always sure about you.” Bobby affirms. Squeezing you tight to her, she presses a lingering kiss to your hairline and tucks you in under her chin, grounding the both of you. “Get some rest, honey.”

With the solid drumbeat of her heartbeat under your ear, the snores and footfalls of everyone else around fade into disregard - and, while sleep still feels a little out of reach tonight, in Bobby’s arms you’re more than sure that your heart will find the reprieve from the world it needs.

[salemsclowncorner]

Holy fucking shit my quote made it into the video, I'm shaking rn.

[kentjohnson91]

forgive me father for i have made memes again

[spaceratprodigy]

✨🖤 Family Portrait 🖤 @grimreapersbutt 🖤✨

And it was hard, but you were brave, you are splendid And we will never be alone in this world No matter what they say We're going to be okay We were safe inside And our new son cried

Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links

[madscientistenthusiast]

I've been holding it in but god I've decided to relisten to Taz: Suffering Game and Reunion tour after getting the graphic novel and god, the amount of titular moments they cut are just devastating, like some of them I get, but god, they should have just made them 2 seperate books, the fact they cut 2 of my absolute favorite scenes, scenes that still hit me today relistening the same way they did when I was 13, listening to this story for the first time, really hurts, they removed the whole argument in Fantasy Costco over Magnus returning to his body, the "those are the arms that have held my wife" that scene made me cry when I first heard it, and it makes me cry now, and I'm not sure if that's because it hurts, or because knowing the loss of such a beautiful story in adaptation, they should have made them 2 seperate books, I don't care if I have to pay extra for another book, I just wanted this story I love so much to feel right, and im terrified for the next book, what's the point of adapting this story if its at the cost of what makes it beautiful

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

hi grace!! just wanted to say i love your new icon! i know nothing about sonic except that maria and shadow are tragic somehow but they look so cute in that pic <3

raugh thank you!! 💛💛💛

OH MEREDITH MY DEAR FRIEND MEREDITH. GRIPS YOUR ARMS. THEY ARE SO TRAGIC. IN EVERY UNIVERSE. I will not give spoilers but oh Gosh.

The scene that my pfp is from is one of my very favorite scenes, not just in the Sonic movies, but across all shows & movies I have ever watched <3 It’s so beautiful and simple and profound and MARIA TEACHES SHADOW TO DANCE!!! I’M!!!! <3333333

[wildsaltair]

every day is Valentine’s Day when you’re so in love with a fictional gladiator that you can’t function normally

[thekidsarentalright]

just saw someone posted this on twitter erm. theyre so scary

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Thirty (Part 2)

“Fucking hell,” He twists away and grabs the front of his hair. The rain has eased to a mist now but the clouds still shield the sky and block the light out like an early dusk. His limbs become a bit stilted and stiff as though he’s forgotten how to control them. “Fuck,” he says hoarsely, and he drops onto the wet sand and shoves the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes “This is it then, isn’t it? Things are over with us.”

I hesitate for a moment before sitting next to him, and the seat of my dress immediately soaks through and I don’t care about it. “Yeah,” I say gently, “They have to be, don’t they?”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“I want you to go and be happy.”

He lets out an agonised, strangled noise, and it takes me a second to realise that he has begun to sob into his hands, and it’s the strangest thing, but I think I can feel my heart physically breaking inside my chest, tearing apart, ripping right down the centre. I didn’t know that when people spoke about heartbreak that this is what they meant all along. The ache inside me feels unbearable, and I want so badly to reach for him and tell him that I don’t mean any of it, and yes, I’ll take that Green Card and yes, I’ll come and live in Los Angeles, but instead I cram my wrist to my nose and I cry with him because it seems like the only sensible thing I can do. 

And once I’ve started I cannot stop, and the tears come, and they come, and they fill my eyes until I can’t see a thing but the greys and blues of the sea blurring together like watercolour bleeding down the page, and then I wipe them and I look to my right where Jude’s head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking, and I tell him that I’m sorry. He says something I can’t understand because he is crying too hard, but I don’t know that it really matters what it was, because on some level I know what he’s saying. Just like I do, he simply hurts. 

He sniffs and drags the heel of his hand up across his nose. He shakes his head as tears roll off the end of his spiky lashes, “God,” He says eventually, “I just really thought- I think I took it for granted that I’d get to be with you forever, or something, like we were perpetual-” and he bares his teeth and heaves a shuddering sigh into his lungs, eyes fixed on his feet, embarrassed, like he can’t bear to look at me and see what I think of him crying on the ground. “I wanted everything,” he chokes out, “All of the stupid stuff, you know? Christmases and New Years, I wanted to get you birthday presents and anniversary presents and travel with you and just- just wake up with you and make you breakfast and-” he squeezes his eyes shut, “But like, I can’t have any of it and now I just have to live without you, and it’s so horrible-”

I comb my fingers through the back of his hair and I whisper, again, that I’m sorry.

“I love you,” He says, though he knows that it’s not enough, and I know it too, because loving Jude Turner is like loving a memory, the dream, the idea of a man that my seventeen year old self believed would solve me, would prove that I am worthy of happiness only because he loves me back. And perhaps it’s an idea that he loves too, a girl who would make him feel young and careless and reckless, who would expect nothing, ask nothing from him but to be free.

I swipe at my damp cheek, “Yeah but one day you won’t. Someday when I’m long gone you’ll look back on this time and you’ll think about how glad you were that you never compromised or let yourself be held back by some girl. And then-” I sniffle, “-when you’re living this amazing life, and you’re happy and you’re successful and surrounded by people who love you you’ll think ‘oh yeah, her, God, you know, I don’t even remember what her name was anymore.’”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly, “No, I’m going to love you for my whole life.”

And then I make the loneliest sound I’ve ever made, somewhere between a gasp and a sob as I relent and throw myself into his chest so that I can let him hold me. He kisses my hair so gently and rests his cheek upon my head and says simply, “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you,” I reply, “And don’t think I’ll ever forget you either. You know that you’re going to be everywhere, you’ll be the ghost that follows me around. Every time I wake up and you aren’t there, or get home and you aren’t waiting at the door, and every time my feet touch this coastline, and I get into the sea, or see the roof of that beach house poking over the dunes I’ll think, you know, I really wish he was here, because everything I did was better when he did it with me,” I exhale thickly, “But then I’ll think of you somewhere else in the world where I know that you’ll be happy and I’ll just be happy to, because I want that for you, I really do, even if I don’t get to be a part of it.”

There’s a long pause while we cry together, and he reaches down to brush fresh tears from my cheekbones, “I feel lucky to have known you when I did,” He says, “When I- When I go to LA, you know, I doubt I’ll be back again for a very long time, and- God, -and by then who knows where your talent will have taken you and what you’ll be doing. To know you now feels like the greatest privilege, and I know that you’re telling yourself that I won’t remember you years from now, but actually I’ll be saying, yeah, I knew that girl once and she was incredible, I caught her in a moment in time and you should have seen her, when talent just radiated off her like the heat from a sunburn and she didn’t even know it yet.”

I turn to face him and look him dead in the eyes, because I don’t know the next time I’ll get to really look at them, “You’ll be happy,” I insist. If I mean it I can make it so.

“You too,” He says , “And maybe when we both are we’ll find our way back to each other again.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” I say, and in that moment the sun finally breaks through the clouds, just a sliver of it, and it hits the side of his beautiful face, glows on his cheek and his hair and through his brown eyes to turn them golden, the colour and warmth of flames.

That’s how I’ll always remember him. 

And when our story is over and the edges of the clouds turn pink and amber, I get up to walk away. I turn to look at him one more time though I can hardly bear to. Standing there in the sunlight he simply raises his hand. “I’ll see you, Evie,” He says. 

“Yes,” I say, “someday.”

THE END To my Tumblr readers, thank you so much for reading along. It's been a pleasure to share this story with you.

For a very long time I knew that I wanted to tell a story like this. I felt like I had so many things to say, about growing up, about this country, about the way it feels to inhabit it, how it felt to be young and bored with no money to spend during the recession era – the uniqueness of that particular moment in time and the feelings, places and people that have changed in the years since, but I just never got around to it.

One evening in July of 2022 my mother, who has become an avid wild swimmer since her retirement, took me down to the beach to take a dip in the sea. It’s a beach I’ve been on a thousand times having grown up just a few kilometers away from it. I’d swum in it, walked it, even worked on it for three summers during my early twenties but for some reason on that day I felt overwhelmingly nostalgic about it. This is not a very exciting beach, I thought, but isn’t it a bit beautiful in it’s own way. From my place, neck deep in the water I looked at the way the marram grass shimmered in the wind and bits of old fishing nets and driftwood littered the coarse sand. A line of identical holiday homes peeped up over a low stone wall, and a little corrugated iron summer house sat right in the middle of the dunes, flat roof, wooden deck. I’ve always wondered who owned it.

Later on I got home and typed a few paragraphs of a story on my computer. I hadn’t written a thing in years. Then I just didn’t stop.

I’d spent the entire pandemic overanalysing my teenage traumas, reliving the things I’d done in college and into the first years of my twenties. A lot of weird things happened to me. Very dramatic things, honestly. I think I am the sort of person that draws highly erratic types to me or perhaps is just inclined to stir up emotionally intense situations, and as a result my life had felt like a whirlwind, some sort of strange carousel until I was forced to step off it in 2020. There’s no point getting into it, really. You’ve read Lucky Girl, so you get the gist.

I have to say thank you to my wonderful friends for being my biggest cheerleaders during this process. They hyped me up and listened to my every thought, proof read, problem solved and helped me to understand that it’s not embarrassing to do this, in fact it’s actually pretty cool to publish a story in this way. Grace & Sarah, thanks for letting me borrow from your lives as much as I borrowed from my own, and for talking in circles with me about everything and anything that came into our heads. I love you to bits ❤

Also to my partner, who never read this story, but tells his friends that his girlfriend wrote a book!! Who brought me tea and cooked me food while I was in a whirlwind of inspiration. He really just wanted me to come into the living room so that we could watch Succession, or White Lotus, or X Files, or whatever else we were binging during the last 15 months, but he never complained. “Ah, sims.” He’d say, and shut the office door.

To my first love and my teenage friends, who I think of all the time. Who embodied a time and a space that I’ll never inhabit again, but I’ll never forget any of it. I remember all of the places or the people who were around me while I lived out the end of my childhood, and when I revisit the places we used to go there are a thousand tiny snapshots of memory everywhere. Of these teenagers that don’t exist anymore, who are all entering their thirties now, of the time we had, the person I used to be and the inexplicable importance of those few short years. Nowadays when I’m there, on those beaches and in those woods I swear it’s like there’s a ghost there with me, and it’s me, the person I used to be. I’m reminded of the incredible distance I’ve come since fifteen.

To my readers most of all, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You really kept me going when it got tough and when it all felt too close to the bone, and I was a bit too freaked out to write. Your comments made this story such a wonderful experience and I’m so glad that I got to share it with you all. I still kind of can’t believe that so many people have read this thing – it’s bizarre. I really didn’t think a single person would care, but here we are. You’re all angels.

All my love,

Hannah.

Beginning // Prev // Epilogue

[grossdyke]

alecto carrow?

ALECTO!!!!

favorite thing about them

nasty & mean radfem dyke .. 🤍🤍

least favorite thing about them

that she's not my nasty & mean girlfriend 😞

brotp

alecto & barty (saint's version)

otp

alectolily........ 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

notp

i was gonna say alecto with any man but im not immune to the carrowcest propaganda i fear :/

song i associate with them

[licorishh]

Replayed Modern Warfare 3 2011 on Veteran tonight and goooooooood night. Blood Brothers never gets any easier to watch no matter how many times you've done it and the ending really never misses huh

I apologize for the amount of yapping in the tags I reread it all on mobile and started giggling because it went on for so long but eh. Blessed are those who won't shut the freak up and all that

[murdocs-sweetheart]

Just watched Star Trek Lower Decks which takes place a little while after the end of Star Trek Nemesis (<- boooo we all hate Nemesis in this household) and there was a Data appearance in one of the episodes I watched and my god I’m reminded of how much I love this guy <3333 my sweetest boy, Data, I love youuuu !!!! I need to take a pause from my Murdoc infested brain to draw some stuff with Data and Ethel (my self insert) tomorrow!!!!

Prettiest boy ever I need to kiss his nose and do parallel play with him while I draw and he paints right NEOWWW!!!!

[qss-i-9]

just fully played tgogm. i still want to marry elias just like i thought i would

{spoilers in tags}

[caterpillarinacave]

Honestly my dreams are the best

[scarletbegoniasjunk]

Nico and Jason are so Pikachu and Mimikyu coded no I will not elaborate