#hopefully the tags cut off

[prestonmonterey]

its really difficult for me to open up about things, ESPECIALLY things that could be really harmful (parents, mental health) if unchecked, do u have any advice?

genuinely i am so sorry i dont have any solid advice for you :(

umm lightheardedly tho

whooaaa dude same eyyyyy

[umblrspectrum]

oh yeah i forgot to post this here too

[zrllosyn-art]

Synchronicity - Kaiju No.8 comic Kikoru and 4 talk about dreams.

Inspired by @izfaish's fic. archiveofourown.org/works/55577173

[marcmorrigan]

@fenglianweek day 6: memories/growing up

the best thing thats ever been mine

[cinni-kgallery]

Woooooooooooooo Steamworld Heist 2 Woooooooooooooooooooooo

[084392]

yeah pmd2 hero getting turned into a little animal and not having any of their memories but also....what if they didnt just assume this strange colorful world they woke up in was normal....if they woke up near moving water. drifting bubbles. the sinking sun. and is freaked out bc this is all so foreign to them. but they dont know WHY its so...different? hero watching the sunset and getting kind of anxious as they see the world around them get darker. until they see the stars and moon....which gives them even more questions...

but they start thinking of it like its normal, even if they still squint in bright light. and sometimes ask questions that partner feels like even most small children would know....but as time goes on hero gets used to their surroundings more...

so when dusknoir is in treasure town telling everyone what will supposedly happen if grovyle is successful. how in the future no winds blow. the day doesnt come. the seasons dont change...a world of unrelenting darkness...it all feels. painfully familiar to hero...

[scribesofcalamity]

A quick small piece of vent art.

Avoid the tags,I am putting all the Blegh stuff there. Things are rough right now and have been for multiple weeks….but I am holding on. I’m going to try and do sketches for the rest of the people I want to hit for art fight. I’m going to catch up on my work and keep doing well. I’m going to have a good weekend with my partner. I’m going to be ok. It is going to be ok.

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

no yeah i really love how every core 4 member got a real happy ending....except for ej

nini is happily pursuing music in la with her moms' full support

ricky is dating gina, a girl he calls "home". he's finally becoming more at peace with love and how to show it. he's learned how to not run from his problems. his parents are getting back together (???) and his drama teacher wrote such a good letter of recommendation that he was accepted into a community college

gina becomes a literal movie star and was able to change the filming location of her second movie, without any consequences, to salt lake so she can physically be with ricky, the boy she finally got to date after crushing on him since the day they met. she has a permanent home to call her own now. her mom finally showed up to an opening night and she was finally able to portray gabriella

and then ej...is alone (in a wildcat sense) at college, financially cut off from his family, working multiple jobs to afford it. he spends most of his season 4 screentime guiding and helping others (ricky, gina, miss jenn, madlyn) instead of an actual storyline and a lot of his lines were about how he's made mistakes and has to live with them

[marblerose-rue]

completed my sophomore year of college :-) (and now im gonna sleep for the next 2374039475347 years)

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 6 - MIRROR (part one)

this is the first excerpt of a longer piece. I'll post the complete story on the free day on the 19th :)

In the cave underneath the derelict white-stone ruin, just as they were told, there is a tree.

It’s not all that impressive, even by a tree’s standards. It’s big, granted, with sprawling roots, half set into the wall of the cavern and threading itself along and into the low ceiling; thorny brambles, or an approximation of them, have sprung up from the crooks of its base, and here and there it sprouts bouquets of dry leaves. It looks half dead – or at least, not really alive in the way trees are supposed to be, though nothing ever is, here. As sources of apparently mythically powerful wood go, it’s gnarled, sad-looking – altogether pretty underwhelming.

It's also growing firmly out of the far end of a dank little pond that spans the whole width of the cave, because even with the Mad God gone somewhere beyond reaching, its world still revels in tormenting them.

Pax sighs and drops their main pack on the spongy earth in the entryway, leaves it sagging there, half-empty. No point risking dropping it in the water, even if there’s not much in it worth saving. You move quicker if you pack light; you move quicker still if you take shortcuts, and Pax has gotten adept enough at going by the off-road wilds that she only really has to pack for the populated places. (The wild Isles have plenty to eat in them, it seems, and apparently love to share, because her pack is never any lighter going out than in and yet she’s never hungry when she comes back. Sometimes the food is spoiled, though. Not much loss – everything here is atrocious.) The cave – it, like the tree, had some pretentious name, but they’ve forgotten both – is small and cramped, lit only by the faint stripes of lichen crawling along the walls, reflecting faintly off the surface of the water, dark as ink. Besides the tree and the sludgy-looking pool, there’s not much there to look at. Pax takes one step forward, and then stops; stands still, arms loose, bow still in its case slung over his shoulder, and waits for the catch. (There’s always a catch.)

Nothing happens.

He wrinkles his nose – holds still a moment longer – gives in, and pads over to the pond, earth squashing under his shoes. Gumming up the studs in the soles. It doesn’t smell like anything – the cave or the pond or the mud or anything – which is weird, but things being weird can’t really be a cause for alarm anymore, and haven’t been since they came in months ago. Pax reaches down and balances on one foot to pull a shoe off; puts the foot back down, and, fuck, he forgot about the stockings and now there’s mud seeping through the webby fabric sticking to his legs. Whatever. Who fucking cares. He takes the other shoe off, too, and hangs them both from crooked fingers, standing at the edge of the pond.

Fuck, she’ll have to change the stockings after this or be wet all day.

(Boo-hoo, she’ll be uncomfortable. Shut up.)

And still nothing happens. It’s less terrible than it could be, and that is too good to be true. Normally something would be trying to kill her by now. But there’s a time crunch she’s working under, and standing around looking at ugly trees waiting for the other shoe to drop gets no-one anywhere. The shithead library man said they needed a stick, so a stick they’re fucking getting, however little they believe it could be as easy as taking it.

Pax exhales again, the sound jarringly harsh in this empty, half-dead cavern, and they step into the pond –

Their foot breaks the surface and then keeps going – hard to see with only the lichen-light but they’d thought it was shallow water – a bit too late to course-correct now, their centre of gravity has already shifted past where they can reach. There’s not so much as a splash; they are submerged and sinking and rising all at once, and then –

And then Pax is catching themself stumbling over dry, spongy soil, and the cavern walls are jagged bare, and they are not alone.

They look up to meet each other’s eyes.

(Across the now-empty floor, not a pool of water in sight, is something wearing Pax’s shape; ahead, the tree is gone.)

“Who the fuck are you?” the other one demands – which is some fucking nerve, and not a question they have any right to ask, but it does give him pause. Pax is no stranger to seeing his own face on someone else; it was one of Sheogorath’s favourite party tricks, even after he acquiesced to its incessant badgering and came close enough for it to talk to him in person instead of just through grubby mirrors and wobbling reflections in the surface of the Niben, and from the beginning to the end it could never mimic him properly. The lines of his face it could do, sure – the fall of his hair, the stains on his clothes – but it always gave itself away in the posture, in the expressions, in the quality of the voice. There was always something off or strange, his face incongruous with his motions. It wore him like a second-hand coat it hadn’t gotten around to altering. This, though – this is different, unsettling, in a way that scratches against his spine. This is familiar.

She said exactly what they would’ve.

“You’re not Sheogorath,” they say, slow, and Pax pauses.

(It was the Grove of Reflection. Pompous bloody name. More literal, maybe, than the library man had made it sound.)

They look back at the place where the tree was meant to be – where it isn’t, now, the whole world veering in towards its absence – and they grit out, “Oh, bloody hell, seriously?”

“What,” says Pax, with no small edge of resentment, “it’s not like you thought it could be easy.” The pair of shoes are heavy in her hand; she leans over to shove them back onto her feet. Her stockings are dry, now. Dusty. Whatever. Gift horses and mouths and all, even if it’s a pretty shitty fucking gift.

“What do we do now?” Face the truth, according to the asshole back in the echo of the library, if Pax has remembered his words correctly, but that’s just about less helpful than nothing. The tree will give them a stick after it shows them who they really are, or whatever other bullshit. Like they don’t already know who they are. They live as themselves every day.

More inane trials, then. Fucking whoopee. One would think, when the Lord of the realm is dead and soon to return in a less-than-friendly state of mind, the fire and the ritual and the trap and the Gatekeeper and every-fucking-thing else would suffice as enough.

(All hell, they hate the Shivering Isles. This place eats you alive.)

(Still better than Cyrodiil. At least the Isles relishes your taste. But it’s a fine bloody line, sometimes.)

Pax follows suit and steps back into their shoes, scattering dust over the leather toe.

And then they’re both just standing there, on empty dirt where the pond once was, and the tree is fully gone. And all of this is completely mad, obviously, but if that was going to worry them then they would have turned back months ago.

“You look like shit,” Pax says, because he does.

He looks back, flat-eyed, and says, “You don’t say.”

(He really, really does – hollows under his eyes purple as bruise, fringe uneven, face thin-sharp and distant. His clothes and leathers are stained with dirt and sweat and probably some blood, somewhere, and all of them hang strangely on him – the showy tailored garments foisted on him with the duchy were too much trouble to bring, so they’ve stuck with basics. Stockings with tears in them. Scabbed hands, the spiked bone of their knucks rubbing calluses into their skin. Their hair is halfway undone. Sheogorath in their skin always looked eccentric, ephemeral, not quite there; but Pax looks at this flesh-and-bone doppelganger tonguing the gap in her teeth and flexes their aching hands.)

(This is going to be bad, isn’t it.)

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Hey-lo, I totally didn't mean to ignore this; it's just that reading your message gave me some much needed spark of inspiration to push through one of the...lower-energy moments of the story at last, ahaha! And because most of the rest of story is...actually already basically written...the next update won't be as drastic of a wait ^^;

That being said, I can assure you that all of your questions will be addressed, and as a matter of fact, some of them are answered in this brand new sparkling chapter!

[zincbot]

HM. MIRABELLE?

[decaydance-smackdown]

ROUND 1a BRACKET

it is completed. The matches on the far outsides will be competing first, in 24 hr polls before they move on to go against the competitors on the inner brackets.

Round 1a polls will be posted SATURDAY JULY 15 (probably like 1pm pst or something), and Round 1b polls will be posted probably a couple days after that.

Propaganda is allowed and FULLY encouraged. rip each other to shreds.

[snowy-squids]

How we feeling Splatoon fandom

[volivolition]

Idk if you saw or not but a new chapter of the fury of a shattered mirror dropped last night! I haven’t read it yet but I thought I should let you know 😎👍

awughgh HELL YEAH!! ive been away from my laptop for a while so i didnt see, thank you birdy!! :] this is the best news ive had all day hkjgh <33 excited very excited going to read it now <33

[flowerakatsuka]

kuroba not liking to talk about their time in high school and the one yotsubana florals employee that's actively attending akatsuka high hating kara's guts so he refuses to tell him where he goes to school is doing a lot of legwork when it comes to the whole " kurokara don't realize they went to school together until the reunion " situation.