#because brain foggy >:(

[rocketbirdie]

taking matters into my own hands and giving us the gongaga we deserved

[florshedworf]

i remember when tpot came out everyone thought two was going to be some vile yet charming dictator but really they are just a genuinely kind person LMAO

[arisveah]

terrible awful realization

[image transcript:

arisveah: and the surgery scene was so much more piercing seeing it from a different angle like omg now we have the idea that he was screaming the whole time omg.

best friend: RIGHT

arisveah: (referring to a previous comment about the exposure) "nerd" okay star wars. what am i supposed to do with the knowledge that charlie was screaming for half an hour what the fuck. what do i do with that? poor boy. if he ever escapes his voice is going to be absolutely shot. and plus saying all that (referring to the horror of promoting a future sex channel with your voice and not your authority) on stream- poor man might never say anything again (if he gets out) :(

End of transcript]

[gumnut-logic]

I need to tell you something (Bit 1)

From this prompt :D a little random virgil!whump before breakfast.

-o-o-o-

Virgil tripped over a chunk of masonry and nearly fell flat on his face. At the last second he caught himself and only staggered.

For the zillionth time in his career, he thanked the specialised rubber in his boots. They made him slightly less agile in the field, but he had compensated over time and his boots had saved so much skin and bone they had proven themselves essential and a blessing.

He blinked, the grey of post-disaster blurring a moment. Scott was in the distance liaising with the GDF. Virgil knew he would much rather be pulling people out from under the rubble, but they were at the stage of the mission where ‘liaising’ was necessary. A good part of the time John managed to handle that, but onsite it was usually Scott.

You would think Virgil’s calm and calculating mind would be better suited to speaking to the local authorities than Scott, who despite being an excellent commander had been known to fly off the handle at the occasional idiot. However, Virgil had also been known to calmly ignore idiots and just do the job of saving whoever needed saving at the time.

It was probably the incident where Virgil had backed Firefly over the top of some guy’s car because the idiot refused to move it. In Virgil’s view it was simple practicality.

Scott and John did the majority of liaising from that point on. Apparently some people did not agree with Virgil’s efficiencies.

A grumbling thought. Didn’t stop Scott from torching a car or two with One’s exhaust.

It was a matter of style, apparently.

“Virgil, what are you doing?” John’s cool voice was ever reassuring as it bounced down from orbit.

“I need to speak to Scott.”

Scott blurred again as he gesticulated with aggravated arms. Great, he was pissed about something.

“Is there something wrong?” There was sudden suspicion in John’s tone.

Virgil grunted at him. “Just need to speak to Scott.”

While Virgil loved John with all his being, Scott was the big brother Virgil was drawn to when he needed help. Scott was his leader, best friend, support, someone he couldn’t do without.

Virgil had a problem? He went to Scott.

“Scott?”

The gesticulation stopped and his big brother turned. “Virgil? What? You’re supposed to be on the east side.”

“I know.” He swallowed. “But I have to tell you something.”

Blue eyes stared at him through two layers of plexiglass, his brother frowning.

“Excuse me, Commander, but you still need to move your craft.”

Virgil blinked away blur and realised Scott had been talking to two people, not one. One was GDF, yes, but the other was some guy dressed in a suit. His expression was one of outrage.

Oh, great, one of those.

“What is it, Thunderbird Two?”

Yay for name dropping, muscle flexing, and…he located Thunderbird One and sure enough, she was perched on the road, blocking a fancy looking car.

Hmm, Virgil could whip up a Firefly. She’d climb nicely over that polished hood.

“Virgil, are you okay?” A gloved hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Huh?” Turning his head back to his brother, the world took a moment to catch up. Oh. Urgh. “Um.” His stomach clenched.

“Virgil!” Two hands were suddenly holding his arms. “What the-?”

“I’ve been shot.”

The specialised leather of his boots did nothing to help as his legs suddenly decided they no longer wanted to hold him up.

But strong arms disagreed and as his big brother caught him, he knew he’d made the right decision to tell Scott. Scott would look after him. Scott always did.

He did yell, though. Virgil attempted to blink away the blur but this time it was persistent and wouldn’t clear. It only got worse.

Scott was calling his name, and swearing, so much swearing. And the other guy, the guy with the car…

Virgil really needed to construct a Firefly and trash that guy’s car just to shut him up.

But as the world faded, he focussed on Scott’s voice.

His big brother always knew what to do.

-o-o-o-

Next

[septembermonologues]

i love that the iwtv show's creative team and the fandom get to play with having two literally different claudias. getting to think about how time and grief and resentment and love and outside parties affect memory because we had to lose bailey and now get to have delainey is such a cool thing and im still not over it.

[milky-aeons]

babies, apologies with the lack of writing these last two weeks your girl is battling her lungs <3 i love you guys!!

[11quillen11]

"Arcane Season 2 dropped its political theme"

Meanwhile in Arcane season 2:

• how easy it is for the oppressor to fall into fascism.

• the oppressor polluting the air with the same device they used to keep it clean because only they got the keys.

• capitalists fighting for power and making the undercity worse because of their selfish greed.

• how Jinx's semi-conscious acts of rebellion spark a revolution.

• explicit (and uncomfortably remiscent of real world events) depiction of fascistic policies and apartheid.

• just the fact that most undercity people (according to what we are shown) refuse to fight at Piltover's behest but will do it on their own terms, alongside Jinx, Ekko and the Firelights.

• Critically!! A whole AU to show how much better life in the undercity can be when even 1 person with a modicum of power (Heimerdinger) gives a fucking shit!

• Obviously the fact that the Undercity finally gets representation on the council (it's just one seat and I don't know how democratic that election was but hey, it's a start).

Anyway, this is a very much non-exhaustive list...

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

fire and the thud came on my spotify shuffle while me and my sister were listening to music this afternoon, and at the end of it she turns to me and goes “who was that? the lyrics sound like the kind of thing you’d write” and honestly i think it’s one of my favourite unintentional compliments i’ve ever received

[crazylittlejester]

oh my god none of these whumptober fics are gonna end up being good why is this actually the most difficult thing ive ever done in my life why can’t i fucking write anymore good lord what happened

[murdleandmarot]

Hello I would love to hear everything you have about bluebelle

hi hello, sorry it took so long to get to this, it’s probably too late at this point lol, motivation just kind of dripped away in the last couple of weeks

I’m not really sure what to say except for what I’ve already said in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/murdleandmarot/751605283466379264/can-you-info-dump-about-bluebelle-im-very

Rn when I think about Bluebelle the most is when I’m trying to think of ways to introduce her to the rest of the jellicles or to keep her on the brinks. I’ll probably never actually write anything, but I like to have the story my head concretely.

I’ll prolly do more art of her or Bluebeard in the future but whether or not I’ll post it is anyone’s guess. Bluebeard is a character that I basically stole from 17th-18th century storytellers but I still adore his design so fucking much. Sorry guys I cat-ified your fairy tale villain.

I guess I’ve sort of slid to the funny side of oc headcanons lately because in my head I keep referring to Bluebelle Vicci and Plato as Bluebelle, her girlfriend, and her girlfriend’s boyfriend.

I just kind of thought it was funny i have no idea what im doing 😭😭

I’ve had a couple of funny little comic ideas that I’ve been scribbling out in the past couple of days but they’re giving me so much grief that I honestly don’t know what to do lol. One’s with @/mysticalcats’s foxglove and one is with @/toki-toro’s chaumet but I have no idea if I’ll finish or post them butttttt I’m not sure what else I’m doing at this point.

This probably wasn’t really the answer you were looking for but I felt rly rly bad about not responding sooooo

[sesamestreep]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 3

Use the words: kitchen, date, music (from this list) ➸ this could be canon-verse (ish??) or it would honestly work for any AU of mine too. choose your own adventure!

“This doesn’t count as our big date night, for the record.”

Foggy actually pauses in the middle of pouring the wine and gestures around him in bewilderment. “What? Why not?”

“We’re in the office kitchen,” Matt says, leaning back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. When they’d moved into their new office—after a much longer time than either of them had counted on working out of the back of the Nelsons’ shop—money had still been tight enough that most of their furniture was secondhand and largely donated by well-meaning friends and family. They’ve been slowly replacing things to make the place seem less ramshackle but it takes time and they’ve obviously focused their early efforts on the spaces that their clients actually see. The pathetic little kitchen table with its two chairs is not a high priority for replacement, all things considered.

“What’s wrong with our kitchen?” Foggy asks. “Kitchens can be romantic.”

“Kitchens in general can, sure, but this one cannot.”

“And I’m asking why not?”

“For one thing, it’s not really a kitchen,” Matt says. “It’s a coffeemaker, a few cabinets, and a microwave.”

“And a sink,” Foggy replies, cheerfully. “Don’t forget the sink.”

“Oh, right. The sink does make it more romantic.”

“Thank you!”

“A date needs ambience,” Matt continues, undeterred. “Candles, or mood lighting, at the very least. Music or…something! We have none of that.”

“I can get that wind-up lantern we have in case of power outages, if you think that would help,” Foggy says. “And I think I have a kazoo in my office.”

“Why do you have a kazoo, of all things?”

“Marlena’s daughter gave it to me last time they were here. I think it counts as our payment for that case, by the way.”

Matt shakes his head, refusing to be amused. “We’re drinking bodega wine and eating…God, what are we even eating?”

“Your choice of—” Foggy is interrupted by the crinkling of plastic—“frozen breakfast burritos or…pizza bagels.”

“We’re grown men,” Matt says, scandalized, but somehow his smile escapes his attempt at containment. “This is pathetic.”

“I don’t know when you suddenly got too good for convenience store fare, but I’ve never made any such claims.”

“Your mother would kill me if she knew this is what I let pass for a romantic dinner.”

“Believe it or not, Matt, I don’t report back to my mother after every date,” Foggy replies, sounding like he’s very much resisting the urge to laugh. “Where on earth would you get the idea that I did?”

“I don’t know,” Matt sighs. “I’m being irrational, I understand.”

Foggy pats his hand where it’s resting on the table. “I’m disappointed too,” he says, gently.

Matt sighs again, even more dramatically. They’d had big plans to go out tonight, to finally take a night to themselves after cases had taken up most of their nights and weekends as well as their days. It wasn’t like they could afford to say no, not when people needed their help and when they needed to pay rent, so they’d been steadily working themselves down to nubs for the past few months. Tonight was meant to be a small reprieve, and Matt had learned enough to know he might not feel the need for it as much as Foggy claimed to but he did still need a break now and then, whether he could recognize it ahead of time or not.

Then, of course, a trial for one of their clients had gotten moved up, which meant they had to get all their prep done in a very small timeframe and their plans for a night off had dutifully been thrown over in favor of work once again. Hence the late dinner of whatever Foggy could find at the nearest bodega, because of course he was the one to remember, amidst the tidal wave of work, that they still needed to eat something, at least. Matt really doesn’t know how he managed to stay alive before Foggy—though, now that he thinks of it, “before Foggy” is such a distant time in the past for him at this point that he struggles to remember it at all. Which is its own kind of alarming.

“You’re not going to break up with me over this, right?” Matt asks, and again, it’s a real sign of growth that he can say it out loud at all, that he can even admit to needing the reassurance.

“God no,” Foggy says, rubbing Matt’s knuckles with his thumb. “First of all, this isn’t even a little bit your fault—”

“It was my idea to start the firm in the first place, though, so technically—”

“And secondly,” Foggy continues, ignoring him, “if I broke up with you, I’d never find someone else who would put up with this kind of thing on a regular basis. You’re the only person who understands. I got very lucky. Breaking up with you would be like hitting on a 17 in blackjack.”

“I don’t know anything about gambling, but I’m guessing that was very sweet.”

Foggy laughs. “It was, thank you for noticing. If we ever get a moment of peace in our lives, I’ll take you to Atlantic City and teach you everything you need to know about blackjack.”

“I have a set of Braille playing cards at home,” Matt says, feeling his face heat for no real reason. “I mean, just in the interest of setting more reasonable goals.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Getting as far away as New Jersey is pretty unrealistic, for us.”

“I appreciate that you want to take me away someplace nice, though.”

“Of course,” Foggy says. “Only the best for you.”

“Exotic vacations to New Jersey, fancy dinners from the freezer aisle, six dollar wine…” Matt muses. “Who says you can’t have it all?”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, baby,” Foggy quips. “If you think dinner for two in the office kitchenette is uninspiring, wait until you experience making love on the office couch!”

Matt wrinkles his nose, even as he feels himself blush. “Yeah, that’s going to take some convincing,” he says, though he doesn’t admit that it probably won’t amount to all that much. Foggy can talk him into almost anything, because a major component of being in love is being dangerously stupid for another person, he’s found.

“I think I’ll let the cheap wine do the talking for me on this one,” Foggy says, reaching across the table to top off Matt’s glass—or, well, paper cup. “Drink up!”

Matt does, and it’s a pleasant surprise when it turns out to be better and sweeter than he ever imagined. There’s probably a metaphor in there somewhere…

[soaps-mohawk]

Heyyyyy it's me againnnn just checking in to see how you are doing

Hi love!!! I'm alright, was really sleepy these last couple days thanks to my new meds 🙃 also took my weekly break to focus on finishing the chapter and giving my brain a break (and editing it since holy cow I cannot write while sleepy).

How have you been??

[entity56]

reminder that not struggling with eye contact, or even having too much of it, doesn't mean you're not autistic. a lot of autistic people complain about not having a good time making eye contact, but struggling with making it isn't in the diagnostic criteria, nor is it required to have a diagnosis

some autistic people might be just fine making eye contact

some might even swing in the other extreme and make too much eye contact that makes NTs uncomfortable. the diagnostic criteria just underlines "abnormalities" in eye contact

again, though, those abnormalities aren't required, because autism is a spectrum and not a straight line

[heart-bones]

"....Bruce Wayne is the Batman??? ...unsurprising - if only since ...it is not so much a thing learned...as a thing remembered."

I've been ping-ponging the idea of a Frankenstein inspired Talon!Dick fic, but I need to read more Court of Owls things to feel confident in writing it. In any case, this scene would not quit, so I drew it instead ♡

[thethingything]

does anyone else ever get delusions that aren't particularly well defined, for lack of a better description?

like I know for us, the way we normally describe delusions is more "this is a thing that feels very real whether I choose to believe it or not. I can decide that it sounds ridiculous and impossible, but that just feels like being in denial about something that's very obviously happening", but sometimes it feels like a thing is happening but I can't quite pinpoint what it is other than just the vibe of it being a particular kind of delusion.

there'll be the sense that it's definitely a specific type of thing, but no concrete details about the exact nature of it. I feel like I see delusions described a lot as being really specific beliefs and I do experience that, but there's also stuff that's more "something related to this sure is happening but the details are a complete mystery" and a hell of a lot of stuff that's somewhere in between

[connectionterminated13]

Fallout AU willery is so funny because Henry has been stuck in a vault with William for like 200 years, Both of them stuck inside of giant robotic "radiation proof" Suits. All Henry does is build more suits and all William does is shove the people that the Atomatones get from the surface into the suits.

But when that isn't happening they're usually just like cuddling up together on the couch of some abandoned vault apartment, Henry trying to watch a quality Cooper Howard movie as William sort of hugs/bites his shoulder...