#isnt this one of your shows

[vee-lociraptor]

@luv4ozzy @dodgeball-of-apollo

Gid Doodles🔥

[crowleysheiress]

The current revisionism in Gravity Falls fandom by people who were literally elementary schoolers when the show was airing is so funny to me like. No, people weren't shipping BillDip over BillFord because everyone was morally derelict and just loved shipping a twelve year old with a triangle that much.

People weren't shipping BillFord BECAUSE FOR THE LONGEST TIME NO ONE KNEW FORD EVEN EXISTED!!!! 😭😭😭

[nenoname]

hunting down a specific image but finding miscellaneous storyboards/some cut panels from the stan comic story instead

[fruitgumy]

i love how every villain has a costume but then afo is just gucci'd down to the socks

his costume is straight drip. he's showing up to the fight clean as hell in tom ford. whole outfit cost about 20 bands and he doesn't even care about destroying it. fuck a costume you'll know it's him when you smell the versace cologne

[al-luviec]

sensei morro ref (is it really an au if it's part of your personal canon)

[quartzitess]

They're still there. They're in there. They're in they're body but yet they're so far gone. the infections like a parasite and yet two was trying to fight it, they were scared and they wanted gaty. Not just to protect her but to feel the person that they felt close and comfortable around, and to take them both to the couch, they could've went for anyone. But they went for GATY. they could've killed her but they didn't. There's something so strangely endearing about that. Truly. Even when they're voice is being used to lure gaty in a sense I feel two geniunely wanted to help, they're so far gone, the little details, not just with how they move but with how they SPEAK. they're practically the host for a parasite and yet. They're still there.

[wholecakes]

zoro who is so caught off guard by sanji’s kinder actions towards him is one of my favorite tropes. sanji crafting him specialized post workout snacks personally adjusted for him but still down to fight and call him names. he’s still the biggest asshole zoro has ever had the displeasure of knowing, and he’s horribly considerate. he’s a little confused but doesn’t reject any of sanji’s specialized treats. it’s not like sanji is fawning and doting over him like he does nami, so zoro feels like he can cross off sanji actually liking him from his list of reasons as to why sanji is acting like this. but it’s still fucking strange..

meanwhile sanji is in his kitchen wondering how zoro hasn’t taken a damn hint yet

[locusfandomtime]

you can really tell the different audience demographics of Lifesteal vs Hermitcraft by the comment sections because the average spokeishere or whatever comment is like “LIKE THIS if you are a real Spoke fan!!! ❤️👊😎 if this comment gets 100 LIKES ill tell my mom to subscribe 🤪 who else is watching in 2028❓❓😂” whilst the average ethoslab comment is like “my wife is giving birth but this is more important”

[dumbfucksystem]

thinking about mafia shen family au. the system is fucking around with shen qingqius life again and is like yk what if ur not gonna tell your husband anything about yourself then ill force you to. have fun! :D

sqq doesn’t even have the time to think 'wtfff??' before Everything Happens. shen yuan’s soul gets shoved back into his original body just moments before he dies. in this version of the au he was choking on food, so he gets the lovely experience of having his airflow blocked again! lucky for him, the system dragged binghe along for the ride so he is saved before he dies again.

this route for mafia au means that the shen family never had to grieve shen yuan. im not sure how the Family reacts to their a-yuan suddenly having a very strong and intimidating significant other (boyfriend? husband?!??? wdym he got married without telling us!?!?) all of a sudden. does shen yuan come out to his family?? no, but also yes, but also not really. they knew he wasn't straight this entire time, so its more like they are coming out to him instead of the other way around. god knows they have bigger skeletons in their closets, they don't care if a twink is in there too.

there is less angst here, and it mostly centers around the comedic factor of shen yuan showing binghe around his house only for them to "stumble upon" an entire closet filled with guns..!?! shen yuan is just standing there in complete horror as binghe grabs a whole ass ar-15!?!?? hes looking at him with the most innocent eyes asking him what this strange metal object is. jesus fucking christ. his white lotus is holding a gun and now he has to explain gun control policies while his brain is leaking out of his ears. he opens his mouth right before an alarm starts blaring everywhere. he’s saved by the bell! except not really, because now six members of his Family are surrounding them and pointing several guns at binghe!!!!! what the actual fuck is going on here!!!!!! this is not how the 'meet the parents' arc is supposed to go!!

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[alpacacare-archive]

some body positivity from wingdings for this valentines day <33

(trust him, He’s a doctor!!)

[beatcroc]

what kind of frivolity would you engage in, mecha?

<

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[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[acetrappolad]

hi twstblr (ace wip) (except he's done but im not showing yet)

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀