#is this true I’m going insane

[nicodisigma]

Somebody said a few days ago that freckles were never mentioned in canon

guys do we agree (im not sure if its canon or not when i think about it now) that Will is full of freckles, not only like a bunch aesthetic freckles on his nose but like he is literally like a cow if cow had freckles instead of patches like his whole face arms and back are covered in freckles right

[notherpuppet]

I can't tell you who, but one of the animators of the Loser Baby sequence, really likes your comics <3

Sndjowjans YOU CAN TELL ME ITS OKAY I CAN HANDLE IT (DONT TELL ME I CANT FUCKING HANDLE IT)

[ricky-mortis]

Holloweane… save me…

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Right, let’s all blame everything on Marika 😂👍 it’s not like she can even talk anymore to defend herself 😂👍 why didn’t she run from the torture jar faster before her blood became tainted and her psyche forever damaged am i right? 😂

God i hope i get to beat this guy’s ass later on.

Also wtf Miquella… finding out your mother used to be abused & thinking wow i need to renounce all of this history is crazy. I knew he was spending too much time with Radagon, their brain cells were merging. I hope to God he found Bonny village after discarding Trina which was why all his love and empathy was gone so he made that headass remark. Because if not then istg i will beat your ass too, Miq. What the fuck.

(To make it clear, this is not even about Marika’s conquests later on btw, this is specifically about her origins. “His bloodline was tainted” “unhinged from the start”. This guy’s castle is right next to Bonny Village and Whipping Hut and his Swordhand of Nights bodyguards are implied to be born in Bonny Gaol (one of those girls is even a puppet !!! wtf !!! Like what that freakass Seluvis was doing in the base game). If there’s a walking hypocrite around here i only see him.)

[delta-piscium]

the real reason Steve brings a date to a high school basketball game for a high school he doesn’t even go to anymore is because the one time Nancy went with him the team won and his sports superstitions kicked in and he can’t just risk Lucas losing because of him not having a date, so he will take on the burden and ridicule of being the guy who graduated and drags new dates to games all in the name of not upsetting the delicate intricacies of rituals in sports

[dramaism]

Hey, Ju Kyung-ah. I'm here. You're here.

[skyblueartt]

Weird but I think a big reason the Afton family/William Afton is so damn interesting to me is because I’m somebody who has always been intrigued by psychology and what makes people do the things that they do, right? And it is suuuuper fun to explore that with a work of fiction that’s so open-ended. I personally like to think about William loving his kids, or at least once upon a time- but at the same time, he goes on to be this horrific serial killer. Just…fuckin fascinating STUFF, dude. Thinkin about this fictional guy who, I like to think seemed very charming- a natural born performer- charismatic/calm (at least that’s totally what I get from his like. Two lines in sister location LOL), but he just becomes this fuckin monster. And keeps up that charismatic facade after he’s committed several murders. UGHH it’s fascinating! Idk, I’ve always been intrigued by this stuff. Purple pixel guy goes crazy to me for some reason lmfao

[kittykatninja321]

Something ironic about Medea’s husband being named Jason because Jason Todd is like if Medea was a teenage boy

[pepperpixel]

“put me on a pedestal and i’ll only disappoint you

tell me i’m exceptional, and i promise to exploit you

gimme all your money, and i’ll make some origami honey!

i think you’re a joke!!! …but i don’t find you very

fuuuuuuu~nyyy”

More tagr art!!! Assorted stuff this time! Featuring some cute chibi stuff. Some solo gaz’s, a lil uhhh. Comic of an altercation.. and a very belated Halloween pic I started drawing last Halloween and didnt finish lol. Also featuring lyrics from pedestrian at best cuz that song rllly rlly fits my ver of tak lol.

[theanonymousninja247]

✨ Star Friends ✨

When I found out that @chessman-protocol boy Crit liked Astronomy, let’s just say I was beyond estatic and immediately planned this little comic. Here’s to my boy Vincent doing his best to make friends with folks who share similar interests 😅💙

Funny enough, I didn’t realize I put this in Vincent character’s until I looked at the whole thing, but Vincent very much shares the lack of stranger danger the way I did/ I do to this day. To quote one of my past managers I’m “abnormally friendly” or whatever

I can’t tell you how many times even as a small child (drove my parents nuts) that I saw a cool person with whatever connecting factor and I just straight up walked to them and was like “Ok cool. We’re friends now.” And nobody’s really stopped me? So apparently I have friends now. 😆

Vincent however is just a wholesome baby boy who doesn’t realize he’s actually an intimidating hunk of a turtle and randomly walking up to strangers and not saying anything can be taken the wrong way.

Like I said, he’s trying his best. He wasn’t exactly the most socialized if you can’t tell, but he does love dearly and is certainly a boone of a friend to have once you get past the inevitable social awkwardness. He’s loyal to put because he really doesn’t know better, and I adore him for that. Anyway, dunno if Crit knows any ASL or not, but either way Vincent is just excited to meet somebody else who likes space ✨🌌 💙

[sketchthetofu]

So um… the voices told me to draw this when I saw ur doodle of Wisperer- I just used my regular William colors for this bc I didn’t know Wisperers colors so I hope that’s okay <3.

Au (i forget the au name D:) by: @wardensburrow :D!!! Hope you enjoy!!!

[gojooooo]

man i love open endings. the fact that thanks to yuuji there might indeed be the next time sukuna talks about in case some idiot decides to eat a finger again. and we need fics where yuuji is that idiot

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Siamese dream.

Quick summary: Rust observes you.

Word count: 936 words

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Quick drabble! Written as an exercise to get me ready for a longer story, maybe a second part to that first smut fic.

***

Considering the magnitude of existence, he didn’t technically have time for you. 

Rust was good at his job, and it was worthwhile – these were the two things that he told himself when the spiralling tide of loneliness threatened his way of life, the two things that he would tell another if ever prompted. Man’s propensity to violence was so prominent and intimidating that he had long reasoned that the most efficient way to live, to continue (at least outwardly) as a functional member of society, was to accept that evil existed. With this, of course, came its partner: punishment was required, deserved. If Rust had to live, he would be worthwhile, be productive, deliver this. He would not look away. 

He was an extraordinary machine, quick of tongue and sharp of wit. If he viewed himself as such, his day-to-day would not have to bear the burden of attachment, the thing with teeth and claws, the root of all great wars, sustenance to the crimes of passion for which he was condemnation. 

You were not welcome in his thoughts.

Sure, he had a wiring for people-watching, for assessing and contemplating their movements and likeness for some kind of mental filing system – he knew this. Within the first moments of becoming acquainted with Marty, his robust, heavy handshake, swaggering stride and gap-toothed grin had told Rust all he needed to know about his new partner. He enjoyed it, he thought – not in the instant action, but rather the satisfaction of watching an individual act exactly how he’d expected them to. It brought some aspect of calm into Rust’s life, made it easier to talk, to blink, to breathe. Not peace, exactly. Predictability. Science. 

He had seen you before and therefore was not disarmed by the practiced smile that had greeted him for the first time, nor the way its gladness seemed to seep right into your tone. He figured that you were easy to laughter, to friends. For a moment, with both your two hands still tenderly enveloping his one, which was rigid and itching to recoil to his own self, he briefly considered adopting these qualities. Rust had accepted his nature and did not particularly care to re-evaluate what was so hopeless and stubborn—but your warmth had elicited a guilt he rarely felt. This guilt usually only resurfaced when he was around small children, untouched by the horrors of humanity. He felt like a corruption, like the rot in his bones might be contagious as well as parasitic.

You were no use to his work. Consequently, you were no use to him. He did not need nor want you in his life. Before long, the agitation in response to what he could only assume were attempts at friendship—a miraculous mug of black coffee ritualistically at the edge of his desk every Monday and Friday—had to have subsided into rationality, revealing him to the conclusion that you were lonely. 

An awful thing the brain can be, really. The miraculous organ, conscious of consciousness: the self’s most potent deception, its most invisible betrayal. 

Rust knew he was not good for other people. He barely considered himself to be a person. He accepted carefully measured amounts of exposure to satisfy the human’s reptilian desire for connection: this was safest when by proxy. He could spare himself and those around him the difficulty of introspection, which seemed inevitable in all relations, by simply observing. 

You were so desperate to connect. He could feel it radiating from you, almost tangible, in gentle, glowing waves. Then again, you would never speak unless spoken to. To begin with, he attributed this phenomenon to introversion. Then, perhaps it was due to femininity: there was a heightened perception, he found, in Louisiana for a wife, a mother, a daughter, a whore, to accept any and all treatment from men, as it was well-meant or well-deserved. He overheard Geraci say something about how well you had accustomed to the transfer from Brooklyn. “Nothin’ like Cohle.”

It'd bother him some: to feel you looking at him; when Marty would mention you in passing; when his body would tense in unfamiliar hesitation when he would glimpse your colours through the slits in the files room units. Apparently, you were funny. He agreed – there were times when he would overhear a sly remark or smartass retort and huff to himself in amusement, protected by his and your turned backs. He knew you could work someone well: you near always exited the box victorious. If you weren’t—victorious, that is—you were solemn, quiet, cagey. You always went back for what you needed, sometimes more. In his own way, he knew you. He was grateful that he had never looked at you or spoken to you long enough for you to know him. 

People who considered themselves perceptive usually thought they could crack Rust, turn him inside out, read him. They tried to hold his eyes, tried to make him uncomfortable to prove their lazy, shallow, unoriginal theory that he was shy, that he was misunderstood. What a surprise for them, then, when he would push back with a flat stare, unblinking, inexorable. 

He thought it entirely viable for you to do the same. He almost hoped you would, bitter, hoping for the opportunity to win against you, to destabilise the perception you had of yourself – that was the parasite talking. He almost hoped that you might be arrogant underneath, so that he could dislike you as he disliked most at the precinct. He waited for you to approach him.

But you didn’t. You just left coffee on his desk, which he always drank.

[house-in-nabraska]

two sides of the same coin

[koxiia]

they could never make me like you dylan clay balls !

[justkillingthyme]

i think.That you are worth more than you think you are Because the way that i see you and the way that you see yourself are wildly different things ,. Fromw aht ive seen i mean.

Anons are very strange sometimes and i dont think they should be called human when that happens because what is human without a name to. To go with it

i get very happy whwn i see you post . that isnt to say ill go on a rampage and start killing people if you wver need a break because you dont owe me the happiness you bring. You are doing what you like and i am along for the ride .! like a stupid hitchhiker who saw where you were headed and liked the idea .

i think layton has the worst most atrocious handwriting or the most curliest neat fancy writing ever. Chicken scratch or constant calligraphy no in between. also that time he slapped a sticky note on floras back and ran off. Yeah that was a good one. go little gayboy and have fun with the evil goth man in the alleyway who likes to cosplay

I see you’ve trapped me into responding by attaching a headcanon! Nefarious!

I’ve gotten the impression that a lot of how people see me and the way I see myself are different but I’m just kinda. Chalking it up to the persona I put online. I’ll always be a different person to you guys because here (and particularly on this blog) I’m a more normal idealized version of myself and then like. Parts of The Mental Illness seep through which is bad cause my blog is for silly posting about puzzle game characters and making other people cry. Ideally here I’m not. Me. Thyme is a silly little guy behind the screen who goes feral for Clark Triton and like. I’ll leave it at that. My personal blog has more bitching (a lot more. And I thank everyone who’s been putting up with it) but even then I try to curb the worst of it. Cause you guys don’t wanna hear allat and I don’t like making people worry. It kinda makes me want to die actually. Emotional vulnerability is like. Mmy worst trait.

I am glad that I make people happy tho! That’s kinda all I want out of anything so likeeee life goal achieved thanks. I should start calling you guys my hitchhikers now. How did I get 300 people in my car idk but you guys are along for the ride

Hershel is so me. I think he tries to have super nice handwriting and he does when it matters but if he’s going fast it quickly just devolves into something illegible to anyone but him. Hkdbkdb