#for now. into the wip tag you go

[problemcore]

partial nudity under the tag. did some anatomy studies? with sunday and dr ratio from hsr

[salamispots]

dream wip

[idliketobeatree]

you wear guilt like shackles on your feet like a halo in reverse depeche mode | halo

[galaxygermdraws]

Some S10 doodle dumps. Just some miscellaneous doodles then an in depth of how I've designed a Cyberpunk Impulse (plus a bonus Bdubs). I've been having way too much fun.

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyuuuuu)

[its-wabby-stuff]

Mikey Goes To Oz

<Time spent: 49 hours 17 minutes>

When Mikey takes some time away from a loud family squabble he accidentally ends up getting “flushed” down the sewers. This winds up sending him to the colorful land of Oz where he meets a good witch, a wicked witch, a brainless scarecrow, a heartless Tinman, a cowardess lion, and a powerful wizard, all disguised behind very familiar faces.

A canon adjacent spin off set before the season one finale but after they discover Splinter is Lou Jitsu

I wanted to fit each of the boys into their “you’ve had this all along” category. Leo isn’t brainless, in fact he’s pretty clever with a street smart, people reading ability on par with Donnie’s intelligence. Donnie isn’t heartless, he just has a tough time expressing his feelings. They are complex and unalgorithic but he can get just as excited or sad or angry as anyone, as much as he may deny it. Raph isn’t a coward, but being brave sometimes means admitting you’re scared and that you maybe don’t have all the answers. You dont have to be strong all the time and you don’t have to do it by yourself.

In the movie Dorothy’s journey home is also a representation of her running away. The important thing was to remember there were people who cared about her. Mikey is experiencing a similar phenomenon, wanting the escape the bad vibes in the lair. His “you’ve had it all along” is interesting because it is an object, since the Ruby kneepads could’ve taken him home the whole time. And sometimes getting home means going on a journey only to realize you never left.

I put April as Glinda because Glinda appears as a defender of the weak, and I see April in a similar light. Always willing to help and beat someone up if it is so required. Splinter as The Wizard of Oz represents Splinters own willingness to hide behind different personas, his running from the past and the pulling back of the curtain for Mikey in timeline. The Wizard grows through the movie, albeit quickly, and ends up leaving Oz to go home leaving his legacy with the scarecrow, the Tinman, and the lion. In this case the passing of the baton to his sons.

Meanwhile Draxum as the wicked witch felt much more how Mikey sees Draxum at this time in the show, mostly just an antagonistic force who wants something from them. Fun fact: I imagine throughout this dream, Draxum is uninterested in being the wicked witch but is pressed into it via plot. Hence his disinterest in being “melted.”

Additional characters not pictured: Big Mama as the Wicked Witch of the East (those were her Ruby kneepads!!) and Todd as the Mayor of Munchkin Land. If you can think of more, feel free to leave them in the comments or tags.

[risingsunresistance]

who would win, god of the realm or one (1) hog 🐖

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….

[governmentmandatedryujinstan420]

I FORGOT TO THROW OUT AFTER THE EPISODE RELEASED NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[yappacadaver]

Is it illegal to post the only 20 words I’ve written for WIP Wednesday? Swagever. I'll toss in a drawing WIP to sweeten the deal...

A rook likes shiny things, and Emmrich Volkarin glittered from the tip of his coiffed hair to the ends of his luxurious leather boots. Mara wondered if the spirits he adored saw him the same way— all refracted light and gleaming passion. They must, she thought, watching his palms burn with magic. For a moment, every drop of falling rain over the battlements caught a thread of green radiance and sent it scattering across the slick stone bricks of Weisshaupt fortress. Mara was awed— until she noticed what else was watching.

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Ian and the twice-divorced gray-eyesed rift Ian from the first chapter of @reblogincarnation-blues's fic!

anyways the closest experience I've had to the the feeling of reading the second chapter is taking my roommate to the ER for four hours for suspected appendicitis only to come back with a UTI diagnosis and an antibiotic prescription. and it breaks your one year streak of roommates getting appendicitis. in a good way.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by @diazsdimples @giddyupbuck and @wikiangela. Thank you lovelies mwah 😘

Have a little something from LA Lonely -> this is after the fun and orgasms of Buck and Eddie’s hook up. Still don’t know if I’m going to go full spice ��️ or just do a quick little run down of things.

Prev snippet & mood board here

Buck expects him to start pulling his clothes on and to give him the whole “this was fun, but I gotta bounce” speel, but Eddie surprises him by climbing back into bed and nudging Buck to roll onto his side so Eddie can scoot up behind him and hold him.

Buck freezes for a moment because no one does this. They have their fun and then they leave. They don’t stay and they definitely don’t cuddle.

Eddie must feel him go tense because his hold loosens and he moves as if he’s about to pull away. “Is this okay?”

Buck grabs at the arms that are wrapped around him, stopping Eddie’s descent. “Y-yeah. It’s-it’s okay.” He pulls at Eddie’s arms and the man settles back behind him, burrowing his face into the juncture where Buck’s neck meets his shoulder as he shuffles closer.

Soft kisses are pressed into his skin and Buck is helpless but to relax back into Eddie, letting the comfort and warmth of whatever is happening wrap around him.

“Stay?” He whispers, not sure if Eddie can hear him but not being brave enough to say it any louder. He feels like he’s asking too much.

A kiss behind his ear. “Okay.”

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @devirnis @wikiangela @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @mellaithwen @nmcggg @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @bekkachaos @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rewritetheending @rainbow-nerdss @captain-hen @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @glorious-spoon @fortheloveofbuddie @fiona-fififi @disasterbuckdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @tizniz @athenagranted @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your tag ☺️

[seaweed-water]

ok i'm working on a new story that's about to be *super* dark and i'm excited to share it but god it's going to take a while and i promised myself i'd finish my works before posting them on ao3, just in case i need to go back and ensure continuity, etc,. wow what a run-on sentence. anyway, here's wonderwall:

The room is quiet, only the ticking clock on the wall and the psychiatrist’s pen clicking over bone. Derek doesn’t want to be the one to speak first, and he shouldn’t have to, a silent stare shared between the two men in the unsettling calm of the home office. Derek mirrors the doctor, his ankle crossed over his knee, leaning back into the chair with his forearms resting in his lap.

“Have you ever had therapy before, Derek?” the doctor asks with a raised brow.

Aside from forced and entirely useless counseling sessions after the fire, Derek has steered clear of anyone who could judge him certifiable. He doesn’t need that kind of negativity in his life.

“Not really, no.”

The doctor hums with a short nod, like he understands entirely. What he understands, Derek isn’t sure. He swears on everything unholy if this shrink says, ‘and why do you think that is?’ he’s going to lose it.

“So then, what’s brought you in today?”

The unexpected response takes him off guard, his brows twitching in before he relaxes his face again. His eyes wander the room in search of an answer, observing the book-lined wall, the ambient lighting, the atrium that separates the office from the rest of the house. On the other side of it, Derek can see a giant staircase with artifacts tucked into the carved-out wall leading to the second floor.

“Don’t you feel weird having people come to your house?” Derek asks. He can’t help but wonder what other kinds of patients the doctor treats, and why he’d feel so comfortable allowing them into his home. They could have a real antisocial personality disorder.  

“I don’t mind. I have a pretty good sense of people.” The man leans in, his lips curling. “I’m always prepared.”

The doctor’s low tone sends a shiver up Derek’s spine. He swallows, his arms crossing over his middle.

“Tell me what ails you,” the psychiatrist says, pushing up his glasses with long, spindly fingers before he clicks the pen over his kneecap a final time, resting the ballpoint to paper. His amber eyes meet Derek’s gaze, so penetrating that Derek can feel the warmth of them blooming in his chest. He averts his eyes, watching the man’s hands instead.

Derek isn’t sure where to begin with such an outstanding request. He can’t give too much away, but he’s here for a reason.

Dr. Stilinski’s heady stare remains, silent as he patiently waits.

“I’m losing control again. I can’t…” Derek pauses, thinking carefully, avoiding the doctor’s gaze, “I can’t stop myself from over-working out. I start to feel… insatiable. I want more before it’s even over.”

“I see,” Dr. Stilinski says, fingers curling over the top spine of his legal pad in his lap. “You’re used to feeling in control, but lately something’s changed. Maybe… you’ve been suppressing a part of yourself, but it’s getting harder, isn’t it?”

Derek inhales, his breath hitching as he meets the doctor’s eyes again. He feels like he’s been caught somehow, without having said anything technically damning. As nervous as this makes him, Derek is undeniably intrigued.

“Yeah,” Derek admits, unsure if he should continue. The doctor stares, blinking like he’s waiting for more. “It’s never been this difficult. It feels like if I don’t keep going, I’m failing.”

“Hm,” Stilinski starts, his thumbs tapping over the spine as he reads Derek from head to toe. “You’re not alone in that feeling, Derek. A lot of people have difficult impulses they can’t control. Maybe… urges that don’t fit in the lives they want to live. But perhaps they haven’t assessed the matter from every direction.” The doctor’s foot falls to the floor as he leans in, his arms resting over his notepad. “I can help you reform your thoughts about these impulses.”

Derek feels exposed under his stare, but unable to pull away. Something is off about this doctor, something Derek can’t quite put into words. It’s as if he’s holding back, skirting around truths he’s not saying, and it only makes Derek more intrigued. He wants to uncover the layers, to dig into the secret the doctor seems to dangle just out of reach. It’s unsettling, the way it feels like Dr. Stilinski can see right through him, straight to his core.

“Did you grow up here?” Derek asks.

The doctor tilts his head, his lips twitching. “Yes.”

“So you know, then.”

“Yes,” the doctor confirms, and Derek is once again caught off by his transparent honesty, expecting him to circumvent the question and segue into Derek’s childhood instead.

The doctor drops his pen and notepad onto the coffee table between them with a smack, his elbows over his knees as his hands clasp between his spread legs. Derek is unable to pull his gaze away.

“I’d like to help you, Derek. If you want that, you must promise me one thing.”

Derek’s heart speeds up. He’s not even sure what this promise is, but he finds himself nodding, a short twitch of acknowledgment.

“Do not lie to me. I promise, in return, to grant you the same courtesy.”

Derek nods again, his mouth slightly parted. Dr. Stilinski raises an eyebrow, a silent request for an affirmative verbal answer.

It’s not like Derek can casually announce it as if surrounded by like-minded peers in a support group: “Hi, I’m Derek, and I’m a murderer.” Promises mean nothing to Derek without a foundation of trust, and that comes with time and still a sneaking sense of suspicion; though he wonders if, when the moment comes, lying will even be possible. Derek can always tell, and he suspects Dr. Stilinski can, too.

“Okay,” Derek breathes out.

This seems to please him, the corners of his mouth twitching, his deep gaze locking Derek in. “Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

There’s something about him Derek can’t quite place, an air shrouded in deliberate mystery. It’s as if he’s setting the pieces on a board for a game only known to him, his every move premeditated, a mischievous glint in his eyes as if daring Derek to join him.

As Derek stands to leave, Stilinski rises with him and reaches across the coffee table to grasp Derek’s hand in a firm grip. The doctor takes a deep breath, shoulders lifting with the inhale, an easy smile playing on his lips. "Call me Stiles."

Derek’s not quite sure what to make of their first session. That doctor could read Derek like an open book, and he wonders what else Stiles might know about him if he grew up here. The thought of not returning crosses his mind, afraid of what Stiles might uncover if they continue. But an undeniable fascination settles within him as he glances back at the contemporary house tucked away inside a cove of trees, feeling eyes on him as he departs. Despite everything, he knows he’ll be returning.

[egoarc4de]

finished succession again, found some kenstewy wips from way back

[hippolotamus]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🐝

tagged by the always lovely and talented (and a tad ouchy) @bucksbiawakening @theotherbuckley @underwaterninja13 @wikiangela @jesuisici33

@spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @tizniz

@thewolvesof1998 (be sure to check out their snippets and fics if you haven't) (p.s. shameless plug that I'm updating my tag list for tag days, fics, etc.)

SO, James gave me this wonderful gift of a ballet au snippet after I bullied him into suggested it. In return (and since I was already toying with it) I made him some Bridgerton sentences. Follows this snippet. Master list here.

Henrietta and Karen Wilson, along with their son, Denny, are a staple of the Ton. They’re said to be closely connected to Robert Nash and his wife, Athena, though Eddie isn’t sure exactly how. He’s familiar with both families, but hasn’t had much opportunity to mingle with them. If mingling was something Eddie engaged in.  “Hen!” Chimney opens his arms wide to embrace her and then Karen. “How are my favorite hostesses tonight?” Hen and Karen share a skeptical look before Hen turns toward Chimney, raising an eyebrow. “Delighted, Howard. What do you need?”  “Henrietta!” He holds one hand to his chest in mock offense. “Can I not say hello to my two dearest friends?” “No,” Karen and Hen answer in unison.  Eddie stifles a chuckle, drawing Karen’s attention.  “Oh, hello,” she says politely, extending her hand to him. “I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m-” “Karen and Henrietta Wilson,” Eddie interjects, taking Karen’s hand and placing a kiss there before releasing it. “Edmundo Diaz. But you can call me Eddie.”  “I could’ve done all that,” Chimney mumbles under his breath.  “And you can call me Hen.” She offers him a mischievous smirk, nodding towards Chimney. “I’ll forgive you for keeping company with this one. So, what brings you over, Eddie?” “I was hoping you could help me. Or, I suppose, my mother is hoping you can help me.” “Oh?” He gives both women an abbreviated summary of his situation, explaining his ‘need’ to find a wife.  “Well,” Hen taps her chin. “I don’t suppose…” She trails off, glancing at her wife. They share small nods as if they’re having a silent conversation.  Eddie begins to fidget, looking between Hen, Karen and Chimney. Finally, Hen looks at Eddie again.  “Does it need to be a wife? Or a spouse?” “I-” The world around him seems to go quiet, replaced by a loud buzzing that drowns it all out. What would make her think- “A wife. It has to be- a wife,” he stutters.  Karen gives him an almost sympathetic look, like she knows something he doesn’t, then grasps her wife’s hand. “I may have one suggestion,” Hen says, carefully. “Bobby and Athena are hosting someone this season. A... widow. No children of her own. But she is being accompanied by her younger brother who I understand is a bit- protective.” “And persnickety,” Karen adds.  Eddie breathes an internal sigh of relief. A widow could be ideal. Someone who might be able to understand his complicated grief. And it’s not as if Eddie has any liabilities, beyond his mother of course. Charming one sibling should be simple enough.

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @actuallyitsellie @filet-o-feelings

@queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @chaosandwolves @epicbuddieficrecs @eowon

@fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @kitteneddiediaz @thekristen999 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites

@lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes

@shipperqueen6 @spaceprincessem @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @steadfastsaturnsrings

@the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck

@welcometololaland @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @a-noble-dragon @mrs-f-darcy

@drowsy-quill and anyone else who wants to 😘