#feel free to scream at me

[wearingaberetinparis]

@jilymicrofics, a very angsty drabble that I wrote in ten minutes and don’t know if I should post, but here we go.

338 words - Prompt: Silence

When the ultimate betrayal had taken place, all that was left was silence.

The rubble of the home that had once contained joyful, gurgling laughter, that had been filled to the brim with only the lightest and warmest of magic, that had been swarmed with spells of the protective kind, nothing less than a horror scene now. One that caused chills of the worst sort to run up and down your spine, that made you feel sick, that caused you to lose any final stray strand of faith left in your heart.

A young man - barely older than twenty - stared up unseeing - glasses cracked, hair standing up on all ends - at the ceiling, wand having fallen from his fingers, which reached in its direction still. His body blocked the stairs, yet his act of protection had not done what he had hoped.

Up the stairs, in a child’s bedroom, lay a similarly aged redhead on her side, her eyes closed, the colour of her hair a stark contrast to the spectral one of her skin. She was so beautiful even in everlasting sleep that one could be forgiven to think she might wake up from her slumber soon.

Next to her sat a little boy, staring - wide-eyed - at the female figure beside him, two of his fingers lingering at the corner of his mouth, tips of them having just slid from between his lips, before he reached over, patting her cold cheek with his little palm, a soft noise that was a mixture of “mamma” and “dadda” escaping him.

Nothing met his gesture but the silence that hung like a shroud over the house and after a few additional nudges, a crawling over on all fours, he nestled his tiny body against the woman’s, a soft wail escaping him.

For a long time, all there was left was silence, but then the sound of a motorbike interrupted its peace and quiet, sounds of desperate grief soon overtaking the stillness that had followed death.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Thirteen/Amy/Rory fic update (pt. 53)

And here we have Hide, ft. Amy and Rory still trying to figure out their relationship with Thirteen, them finally meeting Clara, Amy piloting the TARDIS again but only after having to face the TARDIS' voice interface which takes the face of a ghost, Clara revealing some of her backstory/how River got out of the library database, the return of Orpheus/Eurydice references, and Thirteen finally dropping a few of the devastating details of what happened between the time the Doctor left Victorian London and when he reunited with Amy and Rory at the Planet Sanatorium.

Basically: it's a story about three time-travelling ghosts haunting the narrative despite them all being alive.

@lavenderlace16 @blufox3542 @khruschevshoe

And an early word count for the day clocks in at: 223k. Hell yeah!

[lotus-pear]

hngghh domestic......

[gunstellations]

cute little requests!!

[strapped-and-beheaded]

something I don't see people talk about with Sydney is their theme of accountability. They cannot take responsibility for their own desires.

no matter how corrupted they won't ever say they wanted this out loud, there is like 1 encounter they initiate, they need you to change their hair.

they did everything they did for the temple and for school and for their parent, nothing for themselves. then that devotion turns to you.

I think about their hair so much, they say "I keep my hair natural because Jordan likes it" they look at the magazines at the hairdresser longingly, you can't suggest anything they don't want. But they continue to say "thanks for changing my hair" I am probably not quoting it right but the wording was so delibarate, this is what YOU wanted, they are only happy they submitted to you.

the only event where they initiate the encounter, while working the sex shop together they cuff themselves in the basement and wait for you to "take advantage of them" all playful and cute (it is cute until they do it three times in a row in a day and you just want to get your +sirris love and leave)

if you uncuff them with high lust and corruption, they cuff you instead, and if you refuse here too they just, they freeze if you make noise and sirris gets you free. otherwise they just, leave, Sirris has to resque you, it's weird it's odd

I think Sydney kinda shuts off when you fully reject their advances because they are doing what YOU desire right? you made them like this, they're supposed to be an extention of you.(forever two as one? temple teachings at it again??) literally can't comprehend they had a single selfish impulse seperate from anyone else's expectations.

anyway Sydney is fucked in the head as anyone else in this town even tho they are my sweetiepie pookie bear they need mood stabilizers so so baddd

[dreamaruu]

would u still love me if i was a bug 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[maxipad33]

it’s real maxiel hours over here!!!!!!!!!!!

[lemonstars8583]

fairly certain i never posted these here hi everyone look at my favorite things ever

[gia-d]

Team W! As in Who let them near the fire rods???

Four, Legend and Hyrule

[grimlyink-but-creative]

“Eddie W. Dearly”💌🖋️

Aka, My Eddie Sona bc I’m kinning him sm rn💕💕

[leonw4nter]

everyone says that leon is a cat person or a dog person and tbh I see it… but hear me out. leon as a guinea pig person, SPECIFICALLY RE2 leon. like that little white boy is laying down on the couch, knocked out, and there’s a cute little guinea pig that lowkey looks like him laying on his chest.

in a universe where the canon events never happened, he has 2 guinea pigs that he looks forward to when coming home so he can set them on the counter while he cooks. spends more money on high quality lettuce (and whatever veggies guinea pigs eat) than his own meals.

if someone hits him up about his guinea pigs?????? he will INFODUMP, go all 💡🤓👆 on the person he’s talking to ( if he gets a partner , this is his form of rizz or wtv). he WILL show pictures of his guinea pigs and you’re not sure what’s cuter, him or his pets. will talk to his guinea pigs about shit from work or a cute person he saw today.

his guinea pigs prolly look like these bad boys:

(and they’re both girls) (AND THEIR NAMES ARE PROBABLY SMN STUPID LIKE IDK buster and paper clip coz he thought one of them was a dude and the other idk he got lazy)

[mirinstirfry]

how getting into debut or die has felt like as someone who's not into 3D idols or kpop

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

Okay, but like, why did they have to do the Scooby-doo villain run?!?!

[colibrie]

Can. Can you please do #11 with the Fang AU?

11. "Just keep breathing. In and out. You're doing great." (Minor warning for blood and injury).

Hamato Leonardo knew himself to be a turtle of many enviable talents. Out-of-this-world charisma, rugged good looks, hilarious, a tactical mind, and a resourceful field medic. The whole package. Except, he was not a scientist. He'd never had the patience or the attention span for fiddly formulas, obsessive note-taking, and tedious repetition needed for an experiment to be successful. As the team’s leader and face man, Leo thrived in the gray, mixing information and spontaneity, tweaking and twisting to ensure the outcome he wanted came to pass. Science was Donnie's world. His egg-headed twin thrived in black and white; relying on repetition, craved clearly defined variables, delighting in percentiles and predictability. That was what balanced them in the end, what made them tick as twins. Brainiac and face man, street smarts and book smarts, innovation and invention.

And maybe that was why he was struggling now, sitting hunched over his secret pile of medical books, scowling as he compared them to the ones April had brought from the library. Squinting at tiny, cramped print as his head pounded, forcing eyes crusted from lack of sleep to open to absorb the paragraphs detailing anatomy, herpetology, and epidemiology, alongside pictures that were various degrees of uselessness. This was Donnie’s world, and maybe he would have enjoyed this torment. Maybe, his twin could make sense of these "viral counts" and "impact percentiles ". Maybe, if his twin weren't strapped to the bed behind him, delirious and writhing in pain, they could have already fixed whatever this thing was.

"Shell," Leo groaned, throwing down his pencil as one hand rose to rub his tired eyes.

He was going to get crow's feet and fine lines from glaring at these useless books, things he could (loudly) tolerate if they were to result in a solution to whatever plaguing their purple brother. But they hadn’t so far. Days of effort, nights of burning well past the midnight oil, and all he had to show for his efforts was a splitting headache and a massive collection of unwashed tea mugs. None of Donnie's symptoms matched with anything detailed in the textbooks, or CDC and WHO websites. Given the creepy level of the lab they'd wreaked, it wasn’t truly that surprising, even if it was frustrating. There was, shockingly, not a lot of published research on mutants, let alone their illnesses or immune systems. But, illnesses didn't just come out of nowhere! He didn't need a fancy piece of paper or a Donnie-level IQ to know that. Whatever was ailing Donnie had to be documented somewhere. But he was a field medic for pizza's sake! He knew how to set bones, sew up cuts, and head off infections. Not cellular biology!

Throwing his hands up in defeat, he slouched back into his desk chair. Maybe Mikey was right. Maybe it was time to call in Draxum, much as Leo would rather eat a bucket of nails or light fire to all his limited-edition JJ comics than say it out loud. Mad scientist psycho or not, the Yokai understood a lot more than Leo did, in this one area anyway. And while they were at it, maybe they’d been looking at things all wrong. If a science-based solution wasn’t available, maybe a mystic solution could help? It would be the most delicious kind of irony, given Donnie’s historic skepticism of anything mystical or magical. Maybe their father could take a trip to the mystic library, or they could send one of the Casey’s to Witch Town. So long as they didn't drop Donnie's name in any conversations it would probably be...

A pained snarl cut through his thoughts, and he whirled the chair around to find Donnie bucking against his restraints, head thrown back in a terrible arc as he gasped for air.

"Whoa! Easy D!" Leo exclaimed, jumping out of his seat to reach for the oxygen mask and tank that April and Casey Jr had kindly "liberated" from April's school following the Krang invasion. "Just keep breathing Dontron, in and out."

His twin hissed in response, pants deepening to a guttural growl as Leo approached and attempted to press the mask over Donnie's nose and mouth.

"Come on man, you're doing great. This is going to help you do even better, so chill out a little and I'll-"

Faster than lightning Donnie struck, neck muscles stretched and strained as he ducked around the mask and sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of Leo's forearm.

"OW!" Leo yelled, the oxygen mask slipping from his fingers as they spasmed open in shock. "Dee, let go!"

Donatello snarled in reply, sharp teeth sinking and shredding as his jaws clamped down on Leo's limb.

"Get OFF!" Leo bellowed, jamming the thumb of his free hand into the pressure point just behind the soft shell’s jaw. It took way longer than it should have for Donatello’s teeth to release him, too many long, painful seconds before Leo could pull his arm away and stumble back a step from the bed, cradling his injured limb close. Torn flesh burned against the open air, pain licking out from fingertip to elbow while small crimson streams braided into rivers as they raced across his skin to follow gravity to the floor.

“What the shell?!” Leo snapped, free hand clamping down over the injury as he stumbled towards the cabinet that held their stock of bandages.

Donnie hissed again in reply, and Leo had to fight the urge to cringe away from the way his blood smeared across his brothers lips and chin, the way it painted his sharp teeth when said lips peeled back in a snarl. Dark eyes followed every jerky move as he fumbled with trying to disinfect and wrap the wound with one hand, breaths hitching as the pain in his arm built, creeping like the most agonizing ivy towards his shoulder. Slitted predator pupils zeroed in one the…wait…Donnie didn’t have slitted pupils. None of them did. Their eyes had always been human…

“What the…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. Between one breath and the next the pain exploded, lancing up his neck and spearing deep into his chest. His jaw snapped shut around a cry as every nerve in his body seemed to simultaneously go up in flames, numb and useless legs folding like a house of cards as he hit the concrete floor of the med bay. He tried to break his fall, but his body failed to respond to any desperate command his brain tried to send. He tried to call for help, or maybe just scream, but his lungs couldn’t pull in the air he needed. He was trapped, a silently writhing vessel slowly filling up with pain.

[milquetoast27]

It's well-understood that Hugh Laurie's depiction of Gregory House is very much based on Sherlock Holmes (see article above), but there's a bit more to it than that!

Arthur Conan Doyle wrote of Dr Joseph Bell, his teacher at Edinburgh University, who apparently "used methods of observation and deduction on his patients." His autobiography, Memories and Adventures (1923) recalls an instance of Bell accurately reasoning the occupation of a civilian patient as well as a few other details. While this had produced dramatic effect at times, "there were [also] times when he blundered". Needless to say, Dr Bell is regarded as the original inspiration for Sherlock Holmes, and it is fun to see an evolution of this character become more like his real-life inspiration.

Additionally (and this is complete coincidence) there is the detail that an undoubted prototype of Sherlock Holmes, appearing in Doyle's 1887 Uncle Jeremy's Household is named Hugh Lawrence! Hugh Laurie has never played Sherlock Holmes, but among having played Mycroft Holmes and Greg House, it's close enough for me :)

[rottengurlz]

“Sometimes I dream about you. I memorize every detail of your face like a prayer. Those moments seem so real that I grieve whenever I wake up and your spot next to me is cold. Why did you beg me to kill you? I would’ve stopped. Even in death I cannot escape you. I’m not sure I want to even if I was begging for it.”

w/ @kashisun !! (happy birthday 😭)