#here it finally is in a mb

[crossedwiress]

and all of the songs were about you

[unproduciblesmackdown]

the interlude in rotk of frodo exerting all effort against the strains of woodwinds to drag himself a meter or so further up mount doom

[hawnkoii]

I’ve redesigned Hoshiko just a bit :3

[idlesuperstar]

Anything suspicious? Only you, Morse.

Max // Morse: from 1965 to 1972

[superstarshowcase]

the fallen secunit

[courtillyy]

moodboard: fred x wesley

[decoy-sammy]

Yoo, I finished the boyo!!!

I think it looks quite nice. :3

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

At one of the giant skeletons in the depths and. Really what the fuck ARE these things.

[bi-demon-ium]

every day i think about show!mr benedict meeting books!mr benedict.

like. okay show!mr benedict is having the most crisis of his life. like a) that's him?????? that man is him????? because books!mr benedict like. he Has It Together. he's intelligent, brilliant, kind, compassionate, he knows his limits, he knows who he is and he has confidence in himself. he knows what to say, he takes care of people around him but also is taken care of and has his own support network. he's definitely had his fair share of Horrific Shit happen in his childhood, but it's very different Horrific Shit and overall he's like. pretty much emotionally stable and in a good place. his relationship with his brother is--well. it's got its own problems, but it isn't eating him up inside because it's nowhere near as personal. he's pretty much like. fine? and he's like. he's a cool old grandpa. not only has he lived long enough to be like eighty something or whatever, but he's like, cool. he's brilliant and confident and kind and he knows what to say. he isn't just "good at pretending he has his shit together for the sake of children" he actually has his shit together. he can do mildly questionable things for the right reasons and not beat himself up about it, even if he genuinely hates it had to happen and is sad about it (see cave scene) and he can have compassion for his child self and the kinds of assumptions baby books!nicholas made about other people/adults/life. meanwhile show!mr benedict kind of barely has it together at all, because the man's been through like way too many traumas in a row, some of which were deeply deeply personal and left him with just. crippling guilt and low self esteem. he's just trying his best but sometimes he snaps at people then feels horrible about it, he blames himself directly for the emergency and everyone who got hurt because of it, his relationship with curtain is just an entire can of worms, etc., and he's much younger (still not exactly young young, but in comparison to calm old experienced grandpa benedict in the books, he's young) and less experienced and just. really, really trying his best. so he's kind of a disaster and a mess, emotionally speaking, and there's this kind old man who has it TOGETHER and it's ALTERNATE FUTURE HIM, I GUESS.

b) please show!mr benedict is like. the epitome of "gifted kid(TM) who grew up way too fast" and he pretty much tries to step into the role of The Dad / The Calm Leader and even when he's obviously a mess, falling short, like. he does let himself be supported--talking to them, that is--but ultimately, he tries to bottle it up (or rather, scream in the woods and then be like "okay! clearly i am fine now" ldigjfghH) and not burden them all too much with it, and even when he does, like. they're not perfect, either. looking at you, s2!number two. (not that it's her fault, but you know.) so like. anyway, what i'm saying, is like. show!mr benedict having someone else to be the competent adult. the only paternal figures this man has ever had are probably the glenns, and we all know how that went. so like. god. show!mr benedict needs a hug so fucking bad. and like. books!mr benedict could almost be like a dad, like. someone he can talk to and not worry about trying to seem strong, not trying to keep it together, someone it's okay to burden, someone who's experienced and knows what to say... like when your'e always the one people go to, when you always try to be the person who knows what to say.... here's someone doing that for him. and like, this is literally him, albeit a weird alternate future him, so like. what secrets could he even try to keep? want to keep?

although god also show!mr benedict desperately wanting to like. make books!mr benedict proud of him, wanting to seem like. worthy. like. telling him about his brother and expecting condemnation, because clearly this nicholas benedict--this. this superior nicholas benedict, who's actually kind and selfless, who's actually brilliant and competent and knows what he's doing--this nicholas benedict wouldn't have made that mistake. this nicholas benedict wouldnt have abandoned his brother. maybe he'd failed to save his brother, but only because they'd never met, not until it was too late. nicholas had been given that chance, and he'd wasted it, he'd squandered it, and how could mr benedict not resent him for that? perhaps kindly, sadly, but nonetheless, resent him. but like. books!mr benedict knows what to say. all those things i just so desperately want someone to tell show!nicholas--it wasn't your fault, you aren't crazy or paranoid or jealous--like. here's someone who can tell him that! someone who can give him a hug and say this wasn't your fault. and like. someone maybe nicholas will believe, eventually. someone who could help him heal the way he's helped the kids (just as books!mr b as helped the others all heal, too, so i guess he's adopted his past alternate self now lgkjfgh)

my point being show!nicholas desperately deserves to experience The Mr. Benedict Effect™

....anyway meanwhile books!mr benedict is looking at this really traumatized young version of himself and going "oh boy. this kid is fucked up"

[deadn30n]

melting at the thought of solstice playing guitar and singing love songs to their significant other

who's gonna let them do this???

[casualnepotism]

It is a strange thing, for a fighter to be so full of words. Having known a fuck ton of them, they’re usually either too quick-witted or too damaged to have any. But I have so many.

Chock full, some would say. I’ve stored them up for years, months, weeks, days. Hours. All the moments it was expected to say them, I missed. All the moments it wasn’t, I seemed to grasp onto and yet- still- they remain. Even when I manage to get them out of me, they’re the wrong ones: excess that built up over time and spilled out before I could fix them into what they were supposed to be. Cataloging the moments where I could have. Should have. Said anything at all and I couldn’t.

When Maelo said he had it, When Wol decided to leave, When Cog tore out her heart, When Clay made his choice, When Nilos first floated joining the board, When Adiane leaned into her godhood, When Cog destroyed the church, When I killed Wol, When Jack killed Dennis, When Jack died, Again, again, again, When Nilos did leave to join the board,

So many times I’ve written speeches in my head to match you all, discarding them back down to where they could live safely. Knowing they could never match what any of you say without even thinking about it. Knowing that none of your goals align to my own, not really. I kept thinking the time would come, the stars would align, the world would sit still long enough for me to explain. Long enough that you would have time to listen and parse my plodding inanities to hear the point that I hide.

Clumsily. Easily visible to anyone listening, I know. I am not skilled in words the way y’all are, so I have to assume you choose not to hear, and I understand. In your shoes, in the end, given the selfishness of what I ask, I would make the same choice.

My words will never match the ones you all spill forth so easily, handing them to the rest of us like they’re grains of sand and not precious gifts to be hoarded and turned, over and over, until they lose definition with love. Not the ones I hand over, not the ones I hide and perfect, and perfect again and again and again.

I supplement instead with what I can give: a hand, a shoulder, a punching bag, a presence, a whetstone, a shield, a pillow. All of my words, folded and compressed, and shaved of their edges until they can be handed away in a bomb that you will never recognize.

Not a bomb, perhaps. You see? Even now, my words cannot compare.

Allow me to rephrase.

We all know what a milkshake is. We could easily describe it. But there is so much more, for us, held inside the word that we could never describe. For me, anyway.

I hope that you have always understood my actions for what they are. A milkshake for the words I was never able to say. I hope you know that I would never you are so I have never I could never if you were to s I hope you know it’s a milkshake for only one word, really, that you can and should interpret in all its forms.

Stay.

[inkstriked]

*hands you garbage* *hands you garbage* *hands you garbage* *hands you garbage* *hands you ga

[haichengtual]

homosexual dinosaurs

[reveseke]

Exam week dn. now i'm going sleep, see ya with fics next.

[rafecameronssl4t]

a fic where kook readers hates the idea of Rafe x Sofia and gets irritated seeing them together and at a party Rafe confronts her and tells her that they’re just hooking up and if she’s jealous. Please and thank you 🙏

Standards || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @giorgiawingham

A/n: yeah I’m not on break really since I’m posting lol

Warnings: angst, r is mean in the beginning mb just doing the request!! Stereotypical kook bitchy r 😛

Word count: 1,518

MASTERLIST

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the country club as you sat with Topper on the patio, sipping on a cold drink and letting the soft hum of conversation fill the air. It was a calm afternoon, typical of this place, where everyone dressed to impress and mingled like it was their job.

But the tranquillity was short-lived. Your eyes drifted towards the entrance, and the moment you saw them, your jaw tightened. Rafe Cameron, tall, smug, and all too comfortable, had his arm draped lazily over Sofia’s shoulder, his signature smirk plastered on his face. The sight of them together made your stomach churn, irritation bubbling up inside you

She was laughing, her hand clutching his forearm as she leaned into him like they were the perfect couple. Your stomach twisted, a bitter taste creeping up your throat as you watched them, Sofia all smiles and Rafe looking way too content for your liking. He looked different—softer, like he had let his guard down.

“Look at him,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing as you followed their movements across the room. Rafe’s arm was slung lazily around Sofia’s shoulders, her face lit up with a grin that looked almost rehearsed, like she knew eyes were on her. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms with a sharp scoff. “Our Kook king has completely gone soft, Topper.”

Topper barely glanced up from his phone, but when he finally did, the disdain in his expression mirrored yours perfectly. His lips twisted into a dark chuckle, shaking his head as his gaze flicked toward Rafe and Sofia. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said, voice dripping with judgement. “Rafe with her? Didn’t think he’d sink that low.”

The two of you shared a bitter laugh, finding some perverse satisfaction in tearing them down. It was easy—too easy, really. Sofia had a reputation, and not a good one. She was known for trying too hard to fit into the kook elite, always clinging to the right crowd, desperate to belong somewhere. But she didn’t. Not here. And certainly not with Rafe. The thought of them together made your skin crawl.

“He’s slipping,” Topper muttered, his voice full of judgement for his friend. “Rafe used to have standards.” “Right?” You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your distaste. The sight of Rafe with Sofia made your chest tighten, the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. “It’s pathetic. She’s pathetic.” Topper snorted, this time putting his phone down, his full attention on the scene playing out across the room.

“She’s just desperate for attention,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “She’ll cling to anyone with money to fit in. It’s kinda sad, actually.” You nodded, your eyes still glued to them, unable to look away from the trainwreck. Sofia didn’t belong here, not with Rafe, not anywhere near him, if you were being honest with yourself. “Exactly,” you agreed, feeling the annoyance simmering just below the surface.

“She’s not even his type. I don’t get what he’s doing with her.” Topper snorted. “He’ll get bored and it’s probably just a phase,” Topper said with a shrug. “Rafe always does get bored, you know that.” You were about to respond, maybe throw in another biting remark about Sofia’s lack of style or how obvious she was being, when you noticed them heading straight toward your table.

Sofia had that too-bright smile plastered on her face, and Rafe—well, Rafe looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much, knowing full well that his presence was getting under your skin.“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sitting up straighter, preparing yourself for the inevitable. Rafe reached your table first, smirking down at you, his arm still casually draped over Sofia’s shoulder like she was an accessory.

“Hey,” he drawled, eyes flicking between you and Topper, clearly amused by the tension in the air. Sofia waved, her smile way too forced for your liking.“Hey!” she chirped, like she wasn’t fully aware of how much you couldn’t stand her. You shot them both a withering look, barely able to mask your irritation. “Rafe. Sofia.” He raised an eyebrow at your tone, but before he could say anything, you rolled your eyes and stood up.

The last thing you wanted was to play nice. “I’m out of here,” you muttered, pushing your chair back and walking away without another word, leaving them standing there awkwardly. Later that evening, the frustration still lingered as you found yourself at Topper’s party. The house was packed with familiar faces, music thumping from the speakers as the evening buzzed with energy.

You needed a break, something to clear your mind, so you stepped outside onto the back patio where the cool breeze offered a moment of peace. You didn’t expect to be alone for long. You heard footsteps approaching, and when you turned, Rafe was there, leaning casually against the railing, his expression unreadable.

You shot him a glance, not entirely in the mood for whatever he had to say. “We’re not together, you know. Sofia and I,” he said, his voice breaking the silence between you. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you stared him down. “Could’ve fooled me,” you said coolly. Rafe shrugged, pushing his hands into his pockets, his gaze not leaving yours.

“We’re just hooking up. That’s it.” You scoffed, turning away slightly. “Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I don’t know why you think I care.” Your words came out sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The tension between you and Rafe had been simmering for weeks, and his smug expression was doing nothing to ease the frustration building inside you.

Rafe’s lips curled into that infuriating smirk, and he took a slow step closer, his body language dripping with confidence. “You make it pretty fucking obvious, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, and despite your better judgment, you found yourself biting down on your bottom lip. He’d always had a way of getting under your skin, of knowing exactly how to push your buttons, and right now, he was doing it with ease.

You didn’t respond, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But Rafe could see the way your body tensed, the way your eyes flicked away from his for just a second, betraying more than you wanted to admit. “Why, are you jealous?” His voice was still laced with that cocky edge, but there was something more in his eyes—something that made your pulse quicken. It wasn’t just teasing anymore; it was a challenge, daring you to deny it. You scoffed, forcing a laugh that felt hollow, even to you. “Please. You wish.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rolling off his tongue, as if he knew exactly what game you were playing. Shaking his head, Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his gaze never leaving yours. “I have standards,” he said, his voice dropping lower, more serious now. “You know I wouldn’t actually get with a freakin’ pogue.”

“Yeah, well these days, Rafe,” you muttered, your voice laced with frustration, “I don’t even know you.” His smirk faltered for a second, something flickering behind his eyes. For just a moment, it was like you had struck a nerve, like maybe he didn’t know how to respond to that. “You don’t know me?” he echoed, his tone softer, but still challenging.

You took a breath, standing your ground. “Not anymore.” Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your words had gotten under his skin more than he wanted to let on. “Sofia’s just fun for now. She’s not permanent.” His tone was dismissive, almost like he was convincing himself as much as you. There was an edge to his words, like he was trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze—intense, lingering—told a different story.

You couldn’t help the way his words made your heart beat a little faster, though you tried to ignore it. He was playing some kind of game, you were sure of it. A game where the lines between teasing and something deeper blurred just enough to make you question everything. It was maddening. “Whatever you say, Rafe,” you muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of a real response.

You turned to leave, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away, the tension between you thick enough to cut. But even as you left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than either of you had said aloud. Something unspoken lingered in the air, hanging heavy between you.

The way he’d looked at you—challenging, almost daring—stayed with you, creeping into the corners of your thoughts long after you’d stepped away. You wondered, against your better judgment, if maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one feeling something more. Something deeper. Something neither of you were ready to admit, but that was quietly pulling you both in.

[courtillyy]

tumblr wont let me not see recommended posts. like is bc i dont follow enough ppl ?? bc i have fkn turned off any option for this. Stop showing me these posts by randos every time i come on this blog