#emotional rant in the tags

[334iwatchshit]

please remember that luke skywalker adopted rey and fin a few years after marrying din djarin and and opening his jedi school on mandalor with their green rat son.

[hyperrealisticblood]

random thing i noticed while going through the character bios again: wally's bio now gives information about how his puppet was handled

there isn't any kind of sneaky wording here that would imply he was operated different from the others either, as frank is described the exact same way in his bio.

if it's true that wally WAS in fact puppeteered by someone and wasn't running around the studio by himself like some horrible gay homunculus, he was most likely puppeteered by ronald dorlaine, the creator of welcome home. wally is kind of the "kermit" of welcome home, and kermit was puppeteered by jim henson until his death in 1990. kermit was also referred to as henson's "alter ego" at times, his co-stars saying that it became hard to tell where kermit ended and henson started at times.

i think clown's mentioned the relationship between a puppet and their puppeteers being a topic explored in welcome home at some point (one of these mentions was pre-overhaul, so i'm not sure if it's still true), and has stated that there are going to be more human characters introduced. and since welcome home takes a lot of inspiration from the history of the muppets (and is why we need more horror media written by people really autistic about the topic covered), and "dorlaine" sounds so similar to "darling", it's possible wally may have been ronald dorlaine's "alter ego" in the same way that kermit was for jim henson.

i don't what what any of this implies or if any of this makes sense. i went on this whole rant because of one line of text. is anyone reading this. did anyone see that gnome run by. its so dark in here

[otlwoozi]

MAMA 2024 ALBUM DAESANG - FML

[royalarchivist]

Jaiden: Cucurucho, you have a lot of power, right?

Cucurucho: ...I don't know. Maybe.

Roier: Ah... Yes, you know, don't act like a dumbass, you have it. You have it, man. Eh?

Jaiden: Is there a way for us to protect all the Eggs? Do you know? I don't want anything to happen to the Eggs that happened to Bobby.

Cucurucho: Ha ha ha

Roier: WHAT? [Smacks Cucurucho]

Jaiden: [Bops him] Headpats.

Cucurucho: Maybe.

Jaiden: [Continues to bop him] Headpats. C'mon, I can get it out of you! Headpats! Chin scratches! Belly rubs!

Roier: [Joins Jaiden in bopping Cucurucho, chuckling and laughs]

Jaiden: Yeah? He's comin' around!

[Jaiden and Roier both laugh]

[puppydisorder]

sorry for splitting on you after you made the thing i told you that would make me split i wont do it again

[mistpelt]

[cacaocheri]

this was supposed to be one drawing!! ONE DRAWING!!!!!!!!! but every time i draw them i can't stop i need to keep going

[al-luviec]

zane + nya parallels

[xochimillilili]

Yeah yeah I do like fucking while borderline breaking them and making us hurt, but I also just above all love and want to have gentle time with him, a sweet loving time where we have some fun before bed in our own home we've made together

I want to cuddle and have our sweet little everyday evening of cooking and resting, maybe taking a walk, before being all snug and comfy like little pigeons in a cacoon or nest of all our plushies and softest blankets in bed. Slowly flirt and kiss before eventually halfway through watching a movie, my hands are under his shirt as we kiss and lick and bite at each other softly.

Both of us a fucking needy mess of love yous and moaning each others names and cute petnames, before I have him whimpering under me, taking my cock, hugging each other as we both make each other feel as good as possible. Cumming at the same time before cuddling and praising each other, knowing we have the rest of our night and life to take our time and take it softly

[deletedelight]

DAVEKAT YURI BEAAAMM

[randomfandomarts]

So... I was rewatching Inside out 2 and obviously there were so many things we can relate to, and so many details that really get down into it, but here's my favorite detail if anyone wants to hear it. And I'm gonna ramble about it so get ready- HERE WE GO

In the first Inside out, we can see that Riley's emotions are basically making her choices, like joy wanting her to be happy all the time and hardly letting the other emotions do anything.

In my opinion, this is like letting your emotions take over your choices and what you're doing instead of thinking it through with your brain (I dunno if that really makes any sense)

Like, you know how some people go by their emotions instead of thinking it through? Like some people let their emotions take over and thinking about it logically is just thrown out the window.

I don't know if that's one of the many things the movie was trying to put out, that's just my thoughts. But it makes sense since she still was just a kid, and kids don't really go by thinking about their situations logically and basically go by what their feeling.

And I'm not saying that having yourself being restricted to feel anything is good idea, obviously we should feel. But we shouldn't go by what we're feeling all the time, we should think things over before our emotions get the best of us.

And then comes Inside out 2! We see a much older Riley, and what I absolutely LOVE is these scenes when Joy says to anxiety (and herself too) that "We don't choose who Riley is."

And when Riley calms down, Riley WANTS to feel Joy. Like, she's older, and she doesn't let her emotions control her ALL the time. That's where her logical thinking comes in. Then Sadness points out saying "Joy, Riley wants you." NOW she brings in what she's feeling.

I LOVE that detail with my heart, like it's saying her emotions don't control her, but they're still a part of her. Like logical thinking mixed in with her emotions.

And yeah! I don't really know if that was something meant to be, it was just something I noticed from both movies. And you made it to the end of my lil ramble!

[creativesplat]

seasonal depression sucks. have a picture of Stan.

[shiutsu]

People who say "revenge is for the weak" are the same type of people who defend horrible people, blame victims for their abuse & throw a tantrum whenever someone doesn't wanna be near others anymore.

[fluffnflightillustrations]

My half of the art trade for Fai! The aftermath of the race-- 2nd place is still a winner, as far as Rukia is concerned.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow 2024, Day 1, Woods

Man I need to write for First more. Anyway! Another one done and polished, nice and soft and technically a continuation/missing scene from one of last year's one shots that I'm really glad to be able to finish and post. As always the reader pov is gender neutral (can lean either side to whoever is reading) and can be read as romantic or platonic and in or out of an LU context, though I am mainly writing for an hypothetical iteration of First in LU since he is not officially in the comic but a lot of people accept him as part of the official Chain (the author included), and really that's what we have aus for lol. (Also uh, possible TW{?}, just to be safe for those who are squeamish/can't handle graphic descriptions: OoT Dead Hand and it's lore is it's own warning and I do reference it. As always mind your safety and health dear readers. ) Enjoy your reading!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Long, pale, thin arms bend in shapes not meant for a human body, too many joints bend with sickly cracks, thin fingers adorned with elongated, winking crimson claws hook around your arms and legs, too many limbs that should not belong to a single being reanimated through a sickness of the world holding you in place with indomitable strength fueled only by rigor mortis and hunger no matter how hard you struggle. A stabbing pain upon your skull rips a howl from your throat, a sound better suited to a dying animal than a human being, in the corner of your eye you see the thing slowly slinking closer, once pale robes a mottled, dusty gray, bloodied from the life force of previous victims and fellow tortured souls.

You are a pinned butterfly upon a board, frozen with a primal terror as the claws lacerate through flesh digging, tearing like a rabid dog's teeth upon an unfortunate deer, the things wide, staring eyes meet yours from the top of an impossibly long neck barely supporting it's elongated head, instinctively your struggle renews itself. Gagging at the sickly sweet smell of rot and sick, the scent of metal thick in the air squeezes the breath from your lungs, a cocktail of desperation and helplessness flooding your entire system.

("H—")

It died starving, and hunger still settles over it's decaying features. A broken jaw contorts and twists in a cold, toothy mimicry of a human grin, grotesque and unnatural between the rotted gums and exposed teeth, burning it's stark, decaying and sunken features into your mind.

("—ong?")

The putrid corpse's too blunt, too human teeth sink into the hollow of your collarbone, tears through skin, rips through tendons, it cracks and grinds through bone and meat, something sinks into your pores and it burns. Something too thick to be saliva, closer to tar as it nests beneath your skin like an infection, eating you inside out and you scream and scream and scream-

"Wake up!"

Your eyes snap open as you bolt upright, a scream bitten down with practice from one too many nights traveling in a group haunted by the things called nightmares and insomnia from a life of fighting.

It's just you, the nightly whispering of the woods, the crackling of the fire and First.

The knight's stoic posture relaxes, softens a little, stern features creased as concern flickers through twin azure flames, the moonlight turning his hair the same shade as wheat fields in summer. "My apologies for waking you, I could not bear to watch the terrors interrupt your rest any for any longer."

You breathe in the sight of the hero, of the woods of Twilight's era with it's dark trees shedding honey and maple scales onto the ground as life went to slumber and the smell of birch and maple and hawthorn and attempt to quell your shaking. It's a futile effort, you're shivering from the late autumn breeze like as if the woods' leaves had taken a human shape, the memory of the empty eyes and a sunken skull and fine strands of human hair clinging to a decaying skull sinks it's claws into your mind. "There's no need. It was probably for the best." Your gaze drifts around the camp as you palm around for your quilt knocked over in your struggle, the firelight allows you to see the other boys, and you distractedly note your long dagger is right where you left it; it helps loosen the hold the hooks that night left on you, you swallow thickly. "Did I wake anyone up?"

First shakes his head, your shaking fingers meet fabric and your distracted mind is yanked back to reality when the motions of using it's warmth and weight as a shield against the world are already done.

It's not your quilt, painstakingly made with Malon's help and teachings inherited from Sun on one of the quieter moments you and the Chain had in each era since you've started traveling with them. A mark of friendship that served as a balm for difficult days.

(A little after Sun confirmed you were not a threat, to the relief of your cautious companions, a little before you had found First half delirious with duty not yet fulfilled and death stolen from a mortal body and blood loss and dragged him from the brink with meager medical knowledge and later back to the Chain on your back.)

It's First's cape, as red as the feathers of his and Sky's loftwings, soft and warm and carrying the scent of breezes through hylian fields and leather and metal.

There's a quirk to his generally stern, elegant countenance as you turn your shocked eyes to his, as amused and warm as he's allowed himself to be. First's hand falls over yours as you make to remove it, cautious and with as much care as a bird landing on someone's hand, you can't help but marvel a little at it, the part of you that would either jump for joy or break down into sobs from pride were you not so tired. First was the most distant of the Links, drifting just on the edges of the Chain, with a kind heart that had chunks ripped out both by cruel fate and still bled to this day; he could be cold, of course, but anyone could see how weariness had been carved into the lines of his being. A spirit made to never be broken but not never damaged, who never had a chance to heal.

"You need it more than me." He rumbles softly, insistently. You catch the glimpse of the discoloration on his wrists as his hands reach to readjust the scar, not unlike the tears marring your arms and your heart aches a little.

You've both come a long way.

You stop your motions with a small sigh and as soon as the knight is done, you pick up your discarded quilt, determined to return the favor. You know it's his turn to keep watch, as him, Warriors and Time generally swapped the second turn between themselves (much to your exasperation and the Chain's), but there's no reason he can't continue doing so comfortably.

"Join me? It's chilly and it's not like I'll be going back to sleep anytime soon." You offer, offering him the blanket in turn.

First tilts his head and gives you a look, it's a bad excuse, it's only mid autumn after all, the campfire, and you're both well aware that he's withstood worse than the fall winds between his imprisonment and crossing the skies atop Vermilion.

Still, he nods, the ghost of a smile clings to the edges of his face as he sits by you. Allowing you to wrap the quilt around his shoulders, facing the fire and the woods. "Of course."

You smile, it's a small thing of broken glass and haunted nights, but it's there.

Between the crisp, cool autumn air, the return of your smile, the one who unwittingly guided him back to his fellow heroes and the knowledge that he's not alone, that's more than enough for First.

The two of you spend the rest of the second watch quietly chatting, First about his time with his fellow knights, before the imprisonment, about Orville and the ballads and legends of his time, you trade him stories of your own home, myths and legends, tales and stories you've grown up hearing and reading in your childhood into your adulthood. At some point you drift closer together, his chin atop your head and your head on his shoulder.

It's peaceful.

Neither of you have nightmares that night.

(A gentle hand hesitantly finds it's way to your head, lighter than a feather, clothed in butterfly scales and diamond dust, it brushes softly through your hair. The pale figure smiles, careful fingers softly rest over First's sleeping face, and the being's eyes soften, clearer than the sky on a summer day, a hum leaves the pale entity's slender throat, and the world follows in symphony.

Content, She does not linger.

The wind through the trees sound like singing.)

[goemon-fan]

This was easily one of the best Lupin episodes