#and not released for another while

[pbpsbff]

whats rlly funny is this has been in my drafts since nov 2022 but i didn't decide it would be in r&r until months and months later and it was supposed to come after of mice and mold but now it's going to be added much later

[bisexualgorgeous]

having been a swiftie™️ for years and a grammy’s watcher since red era I have made and confirmed the observation that the public opinion shift is like clockwork hinged on the grammy’s and despite taylor acting the same every year the difference between “she’s so annoying and extra” and “she’s so funny and relatable” is always whether or not she gets an aoty that year we know the gp hates seeing her succeed and loves her when she’s on a downward slope (in terms of awards, girlie is happier than ever and i love this) but that aoty is always the difference and I guarantee if she’d won anything for ttpd the gp would be tearing apart everything she did and said but now she’s gonna be on an upward trend in public opinion where liking her becomes acceptable again until ts12 starts to get Grammy consideration

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[deerspherestudios]

I'm so sorry if this is asked frequently but when are you releasing the full game of mushroom oasis?

That's fine! I do get asked this a lot, but I get why! I do appreciate people being excited about the game. I mean, I can't say when the 'full' game will be released since it's updated chapter by chapter (or in this case, Days), but with how things are going the 'full' game is probably released with the Day 5-6 update, depending on where I take the story.

That's when the game is considered 'done.' Until then it's still gonna be a work in progress.

[lovesickeros]

now that natlan is out it's tsaritsa yearning hours again because i am one nation closer to either being horribly disappointed or foaming at the mouth!

creator!reader w a little side of conflicted tsaritsa is such good food I can't not yap about it. a woman who has dedicated so much of her life to severing herself from "love" of all kinds and succeeding and. just being so confident that when she meets you she's bitter and angry and mean. because she can't stand you. she isn't supposed to love yet you worm your way into her heart anyway and you don't even know it.

especially in smth like an imposter au. she tells herself your just a tool for her to use but your treated like the Divine you really are, pampered and spoiled every step. tells herself it means nothing when she indulges you – let's you hold her hand in private, eventually let's you move aside the veil, just a little.

and she hates it. hates how easy it is to let you break down the ice she's built up for years.

all you do is smile and she feels like she can't breathe. because despite how violently she rejects love in all aspects, it always bleeds through eventually. she despises it but the way you brush your thumbs over her cheeks makes her bitter and warm and it infuriates her to no end.

she hates you and she loves you and she can't stand you and if you were ever taken from her she'd destroy every inch of teyvat if she had to go get you back.

and ironically enough I think she'd also be the one to initiate any first kiss. maybe she's still trying to convince herself it's just a fluke and itll make her realize it meant nothing, it means nothing. desperate to fix whatever you've done to her and instead it just makes it worse.

a horrible mess of a woman who gave up on love just to be confronted with it when she finally accepted it's absence.

[citrlet]

a sim dump for no reason yay

i got an itch to make some sims and it's been a while since i've done this so here you go!

from left to right: jamie / max, flynn / ali, kase / sawyer do whatever you want with them, i don't care!

download (sfs) cc included

thank you to all cc creators!

[revvlation]

dear Ridley Scott, hundreds of women of great taste and the same amount of sigma male editors simply beg you to make a full film about Baldwin IV, is it that hard??

[xxplastic-cubexx]

not to be myself on main but im still here

[spotaus]

The Maskmaker (New Age AU Drabble)

Hiiiii. So, this isn't very long and doesn't do Nightmare or N enough justice, but I wrote this a while ago and my lovely pals looked at me w/ big ol' eyes on my post about posting it, sooooo!!! Here it is!!

This is shortly after Night's coronation and follows Ancha's drabble regarding Ccino + his remaining by Night's side!

   These halls. They were cold. Colder than the rest of the castle.

   Nightmare only knew, thanks to the gentle puff of steam left by his shallow breaths as he stepped down the corridor. The dark, long, corridor.

   He couldn't feel it. No. His sense of warmth and cold had faded almost instantly after eating the apple. The nervous chill in his core had been replaced with a luke-warm air. Like a puddle left after a summer rain. The chill couldn't reach him.

   Still, he wore his cloak. One which Ccino had tailored not a week ago because he feared Nightmare would feel bare without it. His old one used to keep him warm. Ccino was right, of course. Purposeless or not, the new heavy fabric kept him centered. Covered the restless twitching of his tendrils as he spoke with the few he could bring himself to communicate with since the incident.

  

   Now, it's bottom hem was suspended away from the old floors, just barely, by his extra limbs.

   His steps were silent, he wasn't sure when that had begun, but he imagined in this darkness no one would know he was there at all until the Cyan of his eyelight was turned upon them.

   He approached the door. Finally reaching the ornate, carved surface he'd visited only once before. When he and Dream were young. Nim had ordered them to come alone and let the mask-maker measure them. So they'd know when time came for them to commission their own masks. They didn't have to come down, the mask-maker already knew their measurements. They always did.

   His knuckles hovered away from the door. With its carving of that tree, swirling and dancing in the low light his eyelight provided. This space held more lingering emotions than he'd expected. His hand trembled a bit.

   No. He couldn't chicken out. He couldn't go crying, this was important to him. It was his right. It was... the least he could do.

   His fist connected with the door, twice, steadily. The loud sound echoed into the space behind him, and he stood. Prepared to face heckling and anger abd fear, for he wasn't sure the mask maker even knew of his rise to the throne. He hadn't been there, after all. At the ceremony.

   The door swung inward, and... Nightmare found hinself staring down at a monster.

   This monster... was not the one whom he remembered.

   Before, when he was young, he recalled a large, imposing monster. Heavy clay hands that held the pristine masks so carefully. Kind eyes which skimmed sorrowful past him, and handed him that lovingly carved owl mask. The one made simply out of dark wood.

   Now, the monster stood before him, leaning in the doorframe, was not that monster. This one was slightly shorter than him, stocky in the shoulders, and bundled in layers of cloaks and gloves. Their face hid behind the mask of some sort of rabbit, bright, burning lights behind the eye-holes were a soft lavender and blue. Only a lashing tail gave away their species. A skeleton varient.

   "Mask-maker." He greeted, composure renewed.

   The monster blinked, before they widened the door a bit more. A wave of amusement and excitement washed over Nightmare, and he thought he might be sick from just how potent it was.

   "Ah, my King!" They exclaimed, and Nightmare could almost hear the smile in their tone. "I wasn't expecting you so soon after your whole coronation, come in!"

   They darted away from the door, allowing Nightmare to see past them. The room beyond was as he remembered. The large sets of work-benches, suspended candles, piles upon piles of wood. Masks lined every inch of the walls, though now he could see newer ones piling up along shelves and along the stations.

   The monster seemed to round to a large chair, much too oversized for them, and plop down into it. Nightmare drifted inside, closing the door behind him carefully.

   "You royals only come down to see me for masks, that is my job though," They mused. "Or, well, that's what my mentor always said."

   Nightmare drew closer to the opposite side of the table which now separated them. He could see the messy, amalgamated surface of a partially-completed work laying between them. The wood mangled and frayed not unlike torn flesh.

   "I must ask," He knew he had other business and little time, but, "Who are you, mask maker? My mother never mentioned a change in position."

   It would be just his luck that a fraud would be hidden here in the depths. Though, the emotions were simply so delighted. They swirled about, as though every flick of their tail sent another ripple through the air.

   A giggle erupted from behind their mask.

   "Oh, I think I like you already, my king!" They said happily, "Mask-makers have never been asked such a thing by the royals! We have always been known to retire and pass on the mantel without care from you folks."

   They divulged the information so easily, but Nightmare didn't recieve the answer he had asked for. It took a few more breaths before they spoke again.

   "My name is N, my King. Call me as you see fit, I change as easily as replacing my mask." They finally admitted. "King Nim visited me once, two years ago, only to inform me her prince may quickly approach after his coronation. Though, I'm sure you're not the one she meant?"

   Nightmare withheld the hiss which desperately wanted to bubble up in his throat. His tendrils whipped about in frustration. Guilt. Of course they were expecting Dream. He'd figured as much.

   "No matter. I am here to serve my king, and that king is you, my good sir." They dipped their head a bit, "So, what is it you'd like me to carve? A noble wolf? A regal ibis? Something fitting a consort or-"

   "None of that." Nightmare cut them off, his good socket narrowing in disgust. The thought made his stomach churn.

   He thought he'd have to wait for her to speak up again, but found they had quieted and were seemingly awaiting information.

   "My... head of house. Recently promoted as of my ascension." He said, slower. He wouldn't get worked up again, "He deserves only the best, and I know you understand this well."

   N seemed to smile beneath the mask again, their eyelights hidden in thin crescent slits.

   "Describe away, my king!" They exclaimed, reaching out for a scrap of paper.

   Nightmare remembered how he'd been taught. To describe the mask with intention. Feelings and thoughts tucked away into each and every word. Those were supposed to be insightful for the mask-maker. To guide their hand as they carved.

   "This mask. I would like it to be the Visage of a cat. Well-kept, clean, orderly." He spoke, gently, drawing his eye away from the table and to the plain floor were nothing would influence his thought. "A kind face, soft. Trustworthy and bold. Clever. Warm."

   Nightmare wasn't sure what came over him. Descriptions and feelings tumbled from his jaws for what felt like ages. By the time he finished, his throat was raw with emotion. His hands clutched the inside of his cloak like a life-line.

   It was the tapping of N's charcoal stick to her desk which alerted Nightmare. Made his eyelight snap back up to her position.

   Though, she'd already put her sketch down and was up and across the room. Tugging at her piles and piles of enchanted and imported woods. For being a stationary monster, they had strength to move the wood with ease.

   "You've given me the perfect working material, my King! This mask should be done in four-days time." They assured him, not turning around.

   Their emotions read as elation now. A pure, unadulterated joy at the... the way Nightmare had described his mask? He could only imagine his magic intent had something to do with it. Ccino would, hopefully, understand.

   Oh!

   "The mask. You are aware who it is for?" He questioned.

   N hummed, before popping away from the stack of wood with a nice chunk of white-ish wood. It reminded Nightmare of cooked fish flesh, a pristine off-white with an intricate pattern.

  

   "I can only imagine it's that guy? Ccino? Good for him with the promotion, by the way. I'm sure he had his fair share of struggles to get there." N replied.

   Nightmare gave a minute nod. He hated that he had a heavy suspicion as to why N already knew Ccino by name. Nefarious plans set by his mother yet again. Bastard woman.

   He debated staying longer. Watching N strip the bark away or making smalltalk.

   In the end, it was better to leave. His hands were still shaking and his gut felt like it'd spill if he felt one more overwhelming emotion from the craftsman he was standing with. So, he bid them a farewell, promised to return in four days time, and exited from that heavy wooden door.

   The trip would be worth it so long as N delivered. And she would.

[spiritonadventure]

[journey-to-the-attic]

there's a moment in lesson 45 of nightbringer where mc falls off a thing (again?? is this foreshadowing?? i'm going to rule-of-three this and wait to see if it happens again) and satan tries and fails to grab their hand to catch them, but now i'm imagining the same thing happening with satan and ik except he does succeed, but it's her right hand and the prosthetic just POP comes straight off

[soap-is-an-artist]

Alright, let's get down to business: I think Doc knows how to cook really, really well.

They have inherited cookbooks from both sides of their family that have been passed down for generations. They know all of the traditional recipes by heart. Their fondest childhood memories are of them cooking with family members, including younger siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, great-grandparents, everyone who gathered at family reunions and holidays to eat together. The smell of fried rice, spices, shrimp, oyster sauce, chili peppers, lamb, baking aish baladi in the oven, the sound of a sizzling wok outside. These smells and sounds are inextricably tied to feelings of warmth and joy. Cooking together, eating together, that's Doc's love language. A shared act that expresses how much that life and history means to them, a time that lets them grow closer. You can learn a lot about people from how they behave in a kitchen.

Now, imagine that same Doc, staring at the instant noodle cup they microwaved, standing alone in their apartment. It's the only thing they've eaten today, besides a packet of peanut butter crackers given to them by their singular nice coworker. The ramen tastes like nothing. They can't afford nice groceries at the moment; rent has just gone up again, and this is all they can manage. The shelf of dusty cookbooks seems to stare at them, and they turn away guiltily.

[quibbs126]

I do kind of hope a series gives us a Megatron and Optimus with a “strangers to respected enemies/rivals to potentially more (at least in the fanfics)” sort of dynamic

Because I feel like that doesn’t really happen, at least not to my knowledge. I feel like if Megatron has a respect for Optimus, it’s usually due to their long, shared history, not something that develops over the course of the series

And I know some people say that’s what happens in TFA, but no, it really doesn’t. The two never reach the “respect” part, with Optimus hating Megatron for being an evil villain, and Megatron seeing him as a nuisance at best and never bothering to learn his name, only calling him it once like 2 minutes after being told it earlier in the fight, which I think in context doesn’t really count for much

I just feel like it’d be neat to properly explore, especially since I’m realizing we seem to have it fairly consistently be that they were “old friends” for a while now, let’s shake it up a little

[nerdygirl84]

These are the same scene and no I will not be elaborating

[a-crystalclearsquid]

some of you have never lived with a family member whose whole personality is taylor swift and i live with 2 of them and every fucking dinner we get together there's always that white ass loser slipping in in the conversation and you can't do anything about it lest the both of them go against you

[flintstill]

Y’all the chokehold Ionmair Ò, Illean Mhara has had on me today…

Legit occupied myself for the first 45 minutes of my 4 hour drive this morning singing to myself (yes, I know)

And 9 hours later it’s got me again. It’s so beautiful and sad… but softer than sad.. there must be a better word 🤔

God the scene where the Macbeths are just holding each other as it’s playing in the background, the sadness and longing, and unspokenly grieving together (was that after “we will not fail”? I’ve lost the place of it.)

Some kind soul posted .was files of the music here