#i made a moodboard and wanted to post

[maraudersbitchesassemble]

Love. Something which exudes joy, gives us a sense of belonging and comfort and yet, more often than not, ends in tragedy. There are too many love stories where in the end, the lovers are seperated, either because of society or because of death. And when we read them or hear about them, we truly wish from the bottom of our hearts for them to be reunited, for them to get their happily ever after.

But even though I do wish for it to have ended differently, I also believe, that the tradgedy is somehow a part of their story, that if the tradgedy were to be prevented, it won't be their story anymore. Like this one right here, of Sitamahalakshmi and Lt. Ram. Everyone who knows of their story, did cry, atleast a little, toward the end. All those who watched this magnificent story unfold, wished for both of them to be together in the end. And really, I did wish for it too.

But if Lt. Ram did what he would have been forced to do in order to get away and go back to Sita, the Ram that returned to her wouldn't have been himself anymore, he wouldn't be the same Ram that Sita loved, he would be diffrent, and i think that might've been the real tradgedy.

So, though this part of the story made us bawl our eyes out, it also made the story hold more meaning and that made it more beautiful than it already was. The whole story was beautiful and so was this part. It truly showed us the beauty of pain which we often forget.

Sita writing letters to Ram was beautiful, Ram falling in love with her was beautiful, Them getting to know eachother and falling in love was beautiful, Sita fighting for her love was beautiful, them being together was beautiful

But

Sita going through a turmoil when both were visiting Ram's family was beautiful too, Ram going back without being able to meet Sita was beautiful too, Ram going for the mission and the heartbreak it caused them was beautiful too, Sita waiting for 20 years for Ram to come backe was beautiful too, and finally, Ram's death, it was, in its own twisted sense, beautiful too.

For Ram knew what he was doing was right, Ram also knew Sita would want him to do what he did had she known what was going on. Sita knew that no matter what happened, Ram certainly would come back to her, and he did, in the form of the letter, which eventually helped Sita clear his name, thus making him live forever. Their love lived forever. And I'm sure, in a universe where they would've been real, the story of their love would have lived on even after Sita's death. People would say, "Princess Noor Jahaan and Lt. Ram, the love story that was painful and yet beautiful"

Also note: the moodboard it made by me. My first time making a moodboard.

[becca-e-barnes]

Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌

This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn

One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.

I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.

But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.

After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.

"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.

"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.

He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."

That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.

"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.

"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.

"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.

"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.

"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."

He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.

"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."

His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

[nordsea-horizons]

working on new things..☁️☁️

[happyheidi]

[huellitaa]

honey, was it enough?... ♡ 🎀🍂🧸 ྀ𓂃 ࣪˖

[taffingtons]

"That's part of the job, by the way. It's best to keep an open mind."

Edward Deegan // Fallout 4. // Professional, reliable, and capable. Originally hired by the Cabots in 2058, Edward serves as a general aide, maintaining family property and day-to-day details — In other words, he keeps their groceries stocked, the generators running, and oversees other employees. Becoming a ghoul shortly after the Great War gave him the ability to continue working for the family for over two hundred years, and he's in no desire for a change in occupation.

Bonus (not entirely IC) meme:

[icedamericanowithmehr]

[bellelovesyou]

                         7 Days a week 넌 어땠니

                            우린 꽤나 맞는 것 같니

[escapizm]

🌺 🌺 🌺

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Stories From Victor’s Village

District Four has nine victors, and sticking them all in a neighborhood together is either the greatest idea the Capitol's ever had or a surefire method of destruction. It depends on the day.

[politemagic]

The Haunting of Sleep Manor (Sleep Token Haunted House AU)

very very excited to start sharing this series!! the first chapter will be posted by the end of this week (hopefully tomorrow). i've been having a lot of fun writing it, so here's a little teaser 👻🖤

edit: Chapter I can be found over here or on ao3 if you prefer!

They didn’t have much in the way of worldly possessions, so all of their belongings packed neatly into one moving truck. The four vessels of Sleep squished together in the cab as they barreled down the quiet country road. Vessel was humming along to the radio, II lightly drumming along with his fingers against his thigh. IV’s mind had wandered off, his eyes slightly glazed over as he took in the passing scenery, III snoring against his shoulder. At last, they could see the wrought iron gates of Langley Manor, their new home looming at the end of the drive beyond. Vessel veered off the road, pulling up to the gates and shifting the truck into park, causing III to stir from his slumber.

Vessel hopped out of the driver’s door, unlocking the padlock with one of the many keys from the keyring he’d received from the realtor’s office the day before. The old house came with a ridiculous number of keys, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the various secrets it had locked away. Sleep wouldn’t have selected just any home, he was sure there was something more to this place than meets the eye. He pushed the gates open at last, quickly making his way back to the truck. The gravel driveway crunched beneath the tires as they neared Langley Manor, the vast expanse of land that came with the home sprawling out in luscious greens behind it. Vessel could hardly believe that he was finally here, that any of this was real. But the excited chatter from the others indicated to him that not only was it very real, it was just as amazing as he’d imagined it to be.

(original headcanons can be found here ☺️)

[alfhildr-the-word-weaver]

I got thinking too much about Marwa from What We Do in the Shadows again and how she was canonically making observations of Jupiter and Saturn in the 1200s. Then I thought about how Elena took Damon to go watch a meteor shower, and I decided that Marwa and Elena should get away from all the vampire drama B.S. in their lives and go nerd out about astronomy together, and this moodboard sort of happened. I also thought about how Elena becomes a doctor and went ah, they are both women in STEM! So I ran with that as a theme too.

But yeah, Marwa needs a friend who will actually support her interests and engage with her intellectually (no shade to Nadja and the Guide, I'm glad they had a fun weekend watching Mamma Mia together which was literally the only time we got to actually see Marwa happy onscreen, but they have never demonstrated much interest in science that I can recall and I want Marwa to have an astronomy buddy), and I think Elena would be fascinated by her and her perspectives on astronomy from centuries ago, and they could learn about modern astronomical advances together. If I find the time and energy I might even write fic about it, but for now, here is a moodboard so that we can all bask in the vibes of my beautiful crossover vision together.

Image sources: x x x / x (the first frame of x gif + a screenshot from x) x / x + x x x

[keroujack]

after chasing sunsets (9k, t)

The sun had long set in San Diego, and the temperature was finally starting to dip. Ice was wearing a worn, grey USNA hoodie and jeans, tequila warm and starshine pleasant, but all Mav had on was a t-shirt. Sixty to zero, he’d ditched the heat of the volleyball court to sit with Ice on the shore, where the ocean breeze was sweet, but constant, and he was freezing. Left Ice with no other option. He sat up, pulled his hoodie off, and tossed it into Mav’s lap in one swift motion. Easier than breathing. Mav didn’t move, except to let his brow shoot up. To let his mouth fall open. “What are you doing?” Easier than breathing. “Giving you my sweatshirt.” “No, I know what-” he huffed. “That’s not what I-” Mav cut himself off again. To huff again. To look up at the sky and give Ice five good seconds to watch his eyelashes flutter before he looked back over at him again. “I mean why.” “Because you’re cold.” Because it was that simple.

read on ao3

[f0rtuned]

Inbox: 3/5

Requests: Closed!

(Read the request etiquette before sending a request)

What I do

Stimboards

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Want something not listed? just ask, and i might do it!

Dni

Basic dni, transmed, misogynists, detrans kinks, any kink accounts of any sort, dark/immoral-ships, bullies, jerks in general, anti multispec gays/lesbians, gender/sexuality police, etc

About the blog

You can refer to us as Mangle, Foxy, or The Rot (note, The Rot is a separate part of us (kind of like an alter, but not actually an alter.) so if you refer to her she'll be the one replying

I instinctively tag things as kins, so if you dont want that please let me know!

i will NOT do extreme gore or any graphic content involving veins or eyes

in your requests please give me a theme you want me to do

i am not taking mod applications

We love getting promo requests

If we're an anon on your blog, we use the signoff "Capt. Mangle" (note: if we dont reblog/like what you made for us, we probably didnt see it! for some reason our tumblr doesnt give us notifications when we go on anon.)

Sometimes we refer to ourself using we/us/ours, but this blog is ran by one person

We have trouble doing comfycore or any emotion (hope, sadness, happiness, etc), so if you want that we reccomend going to another blog, but we can do our best!

Follow my main, @strzbzr

Anon list + how to become an anon + whitelist and blacklist + about the blog owner under the cut

Anon list

🐊 Anon, 🛡️ Anon, 🧺🎞️ Anon, essay anon, 🌈🎀 anon, 🐀🕸️ Anon, 🦝🎸/🍥🦴 Anon, Infected Anon, Spook anon, Chat/Vex anon, Mx. Nibbly anon

(did you ask to be an anon or use your signoff and youre not on this list? let us know! we'll fix it asap)

How to become an anon

all you have to do is use your signoff or ask me! the signoff can be letters, words, or emojis! as long as it isnt either taken by someone already or offensive/problematic, you can use it!

Whitelist (note: you can request other fandoms! these are just fandoms i know well / or arent commonly accepted on these types of blogs!)

(note no.2: I DO NOT WANT DISCOURSE HERE. the reason i allow problematic sources is to provide a safe space for everyone and accommodate for as many people as im comfortable with. If you try to start any discourse with me, you will be blocked.)

❤️ = favorites to do, 🩷 = ones we like to do, 🧡 = neutral, 🖤= fandoms we arent in/dont know anything about but still accept

Fandoms commonly accepted

Fnaf 🩷

Your turn to die 🩷

Oddities Roleplay / Minecraft Fnaf Roleplay ❤️

Welcome Home 🧡

The amazing digital circus 🧡

Danganronpa (games) 🧡

Danganronpa (anime) 🖤

Sonic 🧡

Springtrap and Mangle / S.A.M (Au by Quiettomato) ❤️

Slice of life (Fnaf au) 🧡

Regretevator ❤️

DDLC 🖤

Cookie run kingdom 🖤

Invader zim🖤

And some others I might have forgotten! (more on the carrd)

Fandoms commonly not accepted (please note that i do not support most of these!)

Boyfriend to Death 🩷 8:11 ❤️

Nekopara (NOTE: im only willing to do the characters who look like adults, the ones that look like kids give me the ick, sorry) 🖤

Dream smp / any smp in general 🖤

Most games with ns/fw (as long as the request is sfw)

The coffin of Andy and Leyley 🖤

Super Sonico 🧡

You and me and her 🧡

Blacklist

Alfreds Playhouse

Monster high (personal reasons)

Fandoms that entirely revolve around something super bad (not sure what counts? just ask me!)

About the blog owner

Our fictkins: The Mangle, Amy Rose, Streber (Spooky month), Pest (Regretevator), Beetle (8:11)

Our irls: Ryker Dublin, Sara Chidouin, Funtime Foxy (tor)

Kinsidering: Empty!

Our traumakin: Shin Tsukimki

Our regression kin: Ruby gloom

Our pronouns: bug/she/it/him/they/xe/exe/nyan

Our sexuality: Gay, multispec (quoigender), Polyam, demisexual

[moth-spiderling]

Cg! Miguel O'Hara Moodboard

(very self-indulgent)

{"Come here, my little baby, you can rest your head on dad's shoulder."}