#but low and behold...

[jensen-frackles]

the way that dan watches herbert after hill essentially challenges him by repeating "six to twelve minutes" is what keeps me going

[spiral-man]

someone was talking about Alice and Celia being anagrams and it’s times like this I really just hate Jonny Sims. Because you see, your first instinct is to theorize what that could mean because it’s got to mean something right? Wrong. This is the same writer who plagiarized his own birth certificate for a main character and then named three important re-occurring characters Michael….IN A AUDIO PODCAST.

Jonny sims is a genius writer, but he also wrote “there is no such thing as a name” about himself and his tendency to just pick names based on whatever first comes to mind. HE VOICED A CHARACTER NAMED DONNY SUMS. DONNY FUCKING SUMS ARE YOU KIDDING ME-

[jamesrb4th]

Yeah because how the HELL did I know THIS pairing was gonna happen

[sappho-ilmarinen]

[toraoistired]

this is how i look hunched over my computer rn

rt tho i think robin would absolutely love boops and would be going ham on the boop button

[thetimelordbatgirl]

The fact that in The Lightning Thief, Percy has a nightmare where he's in a straitjacket and being forced to take a standardized test, the teacher asking him saying come on he's not stupid is he and his POV confirms he's either had this nightmare a million times before or nightmares like this...and Rick nowadays just writes Percy exactly like what the teacher asked he is: stupid, and has other characters constantly doubt him in his ability to be smart and do anything, including his own girlfriend, like...

[pain-in-the-butler]

today I told Cielbug he couldn't eat cardboard, so he pitched one of those toddler tantrums where he held his breath for as long as he could (11 seconds) he almost died

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up? 

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

-

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon. 

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth. 

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick. 

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it? 

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best. 

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again. 

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness. 

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes. 

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman. 

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop. 

Away.

All she needed to do was get away. 

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong? 

It didn’t happen this way. 

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out. 

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete. 

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose. 

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor. 

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?” 

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing. 

Away. 

She needed to get away. 

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away. 

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word. 

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass. 

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.” 

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something? 

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog. 

“Kendra?”  

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out. 

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight. 

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair. 

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally. 

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm. 

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing. 

It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.” 

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud. 

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook. 

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation. 

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,  

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble. 

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles. 

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths. 

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?” 

She was in the middle of dying. 

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now. 

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.” 

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic. 

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?” 

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up. 

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.” 

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away. 

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?” 

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little 

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?” 

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted. 

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room. 

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul. 

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms. 

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm. 

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm. 

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle. 

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her. 

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?” 

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static. 

“I need details.” He pressed. 

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.” 

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time. 

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.” 

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach. 

“Are we feeling more alive?” 

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side. 

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.” 

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.” 

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed. 

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered. 

“Then neither is yours.” 

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. 

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.” 

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.” 

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.” 

“Positive?” 

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible. 

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed. 

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.” 

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron. 

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.” 

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep. 

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair. 

She was home. And she was safe.

~

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

[randomfingthings]

✨ 4 horseman of the fashion apocalypse✨

(Proof of their crimes below 😭)

Actually George is low key serving tho 😭

[vamprisms]

'omg i hate this character sooo much they're the wooorst' (watches show) (the character is just a woman and/or person of colour reacting normally to a situation) right.

[adzy-drawz]

Here's WIP swap au stuff to make up for all of the shitposting

[desktopmermaid]

Oh my goddddd

[askblueandviolet]

(This is the finally, I'm going to miss these so much . But aye props to you creature you are amazing!!)

So good morning to you two.

Ill just assume your lovers already cause you sleep in the same bed and stuff.

Anywho, lan here is milk ice and pancakes. Enjoy and something for Hershey.

For macaque some pancakes too my one good deed to him.

But off course, one last prank (　・`ω・´)

*puts makeup on macaque plus long eye lashes*

Adios~

[martianbugsbunny]

IK in Marvel you're nuts for shipping a gay couple unless it's confirmed without a shadow of a doubt onscreen (which is a horrible precedent I think was set when they said Stucky were just friends because let's be real if all that can add up to welp just friends then how can any ship with less than that possibly be legit, right) bUT all that being said the Lokius energy? great. I'm not going to pat Marvel on the back and say this is enough, but I am going to say that for them setting the same-sex heavily-implied love interest next to the opposite-sex are-we-going-to-pretend-this-never-happened love interest and making it unclear if Loki was speaking to one (or both) of them was a pretty big stride forward. They might be coming out of the era of the big neon no-homo, because the Marvel that's been so homophobic in recent years would never have left that door open for considering, would have made sure Mobius was far offscreen when that happened, would have made Sylvie the only important relationship Loki had in the season, would not have put in all the little moments (I direct you to the Don episode: the hair-fixing by Loki, the way Mobius kinda flirts with him the whole time, the way Loki is drawn to Mobius' timeline more than anyone else's, the way the camera focuses on Mobius so close to when Loki is having his "WHO" epiphany, etc.; not to mention the ways they reach out to each other throughout the season, just a little intimate touch here and there, a hand on an arm, an arm around a waist; the fact that when Loki timeslipped back he looked to where Mobius was first, the way he went to Mobius for advice when he was completely out of options, the way he and Mobius trust each other to use torture boxes and help decide the fate of the multiverse, the way they, together, were a focal point of the season, that they were a unit of two, that they were so loath to be separated). In media as a whole, is this big? Not really. For Marvel specifically, in its own little pocket context? Big step. Immense. I really want to believe maybe they're opening the door for us and we just jam our foot in the gap hard enough they'll get the message that we're a fanbase to be reckoned with and that maybe they do want to spend the effort on us after all. I love Marvel. It was an important part of my childhood and I keep watching it now even though it's kind of a mixed bag. I want to be a part of it. I want the Lokius fanbase and the Sambucky fanbase to win where the Stucky fanbase was shut down. Those little moments were intentional and beautiful and I'm incredibly happy they exist. I want them to lead to something more.

[thegatorsgoose]

I just read the new dp x tf fic by @playedcrowd5610 and instantly my artblock was shattered, I drew this in one sitting just in case the motivation went away😭 anyway this is my first time EVER drawing a transformer so if it looks wonky, no it doesn’t

The author has a few fics for this crossover and they are all peak, I would definitely recommend checking them out if that interest you! https://archiveofourown.org/works/60521740/chapters/154507732

[sun-e-chips]

@daycarefriendpickup magma drawing of moon from my waterpark au!

Tiki-bar refreshments anyone?