#it always feels so strange

[m-eltdown]

being nostalgic for a certain time or place and knowing full well that you can never go back and experience any of it again no matter how much you might want to feels like a punch in the chest every time

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[sysig]

Two skeletons in a trench lab coat (Patreon)

Bonus:

He’s very careful! Everything was fine before you interrupted!

[rottiens]

I need to hear more about your detective sukuna thoughts pls

✮ cw. 18+, implicit violence and sensitive topics, it is implied that the reader is a foreigner, detective au. fun fact; toji is sukuna's boss in this au just because I want him to :3 | divider creds: cafekitsune.

Sukuna has a reputation for corruption, always finding excuses to shoot, harm witnesses and, of course, use handcuffs. His methods are not always orthodox, but they always pay off. That's why his boss usually turns a blind eye when Sukuna is in charge of a case, giving him the necessary immunity and resources he requests.

Murders, robberies, arms trafficking: these are just some of the cases the great Sukuna has worked on, finding solutions over a ten-year career, with all of those cases now closed… except one.

The surprise death of the president of one of Tokyo's most important companies shocked the country, filling the newspapers and front pages for months. The case was closed as a suicide, but Sukuna knew there was more to it, especially when his superiors insisted that there was nothing more to investigate and that he should no longer stick his nose where it was not called. That only made him, of course, more determined to probe where he was not called.

He has been working "undercover" for the past few weeks, though not under orders from his superiors, but under his own rules. Investigating witnesses, collecting documents, sniffing out clues like a bloodhound, and among all those things, there's always one thing in common: you.

He has been watching you. You charge and pass each object through the scanner with a neutral face and steady hands. You look like an expert in the field. The tag on your uniform says "Aiko," clearly a fake name. Sukuna had seen your name on the report now lying under his mattress. He knows your real name, age, hometown but that's all he could collect, no college record, a family to pursue, an ex-partner or any other previous job. The president's personal assistant with a blank background, living in one of the most humble areas of the city, far from magazines, newspapers, camera lenses….

Sukuna places the pack of cigarettes on the counter with more force than necessary just as the store bell chimes. It's just the two of you now.

"Just that?" you ask without looking at him. Sukuna searches your eyes silently until you hold his gaze. Exhausted eyes, painted the black of your dark circles under your eyes.

How long have you not slept? What is keeping you awake? The questions make him bite his lip, restraining himself from pulling out his notebook and starting the interrogation right there, curiosity eating him alive from the inside but he knows you still need one more push to go down. He finally gives in, shakes his head in affirmation and you tell him the price, the same one you've given him for the past few weeks with the same lifeless countenance as always.

Sukuna pulls his wallet out of his leather jacket, showing you a flash of his badge glowing in the darkness of his clothes. Sukuna sees you tense up behind the counter. You pick up your hands and hide them where he can't see them. He slides a wad of bills onto the wood along with a white card with his phone number and name in plain black letters.

You shake your head before he has a chance to say anything.

"I just want to talk," he says, still, his voice a little hoarse.

"I don't have anything to talk to you about." Your accent is good, but he can easily tell you're not from here.

"I just want to buy you a coffee."

Sukuna leans back on the counter, holding his jaw with his open hand as he examines you up and down. You lean back in the chair, almost as if you think he's going to grab you and force you to stay still. You are visibly trembling, and it all makes his adrenaline rush through his veins, he is drooling, his eyes slightly wide at the prey in front of him. What are you hiding, what do you know?

"Can you leave now?"

Sukuna realizes how easy it would be to handcuff you at this point. With a little effort, he'd leap over the counter, mount you on his broad shoulders, and haul you out the door to throw you in his truck. However, remember that it's Monday, the flow of people is higher at the beginning of the week, and it would be a hassle to have to shoot another civilian.

Sukuna stretches as he groans; all the imagination of the scene has exhausted him. So he runs a hand through his hair and shoves the cigarette box into his back pockets.

"Call me if you're bored. I promise it will be worth it," he comments with a smile that makes you visibly uncomfortable.

Then he walks towards the exit and, with a creak of the bell, the cold snowflakes that his stale presence brought to the place begin to fall on your head and arms, covered by the thin uniform shirt, making you shiver even more, causing your fingers and lips to become like ice cubes with the winter that the infamous detective leaves behind.

[mrs-gauche]

I beat Veilguard.

It's 4am. I'm a mess. I'm in tears.

[elefsina]

TRADITIONAL WITCHCRAFT…

…with its many and various branches, is a Craft born largely from the very landscape in which it is practiced. There exist common threads that run throughout the various recensions of the ‘Elder Faith’, but the precise traditions, ways and practices of the ‘Old Craft’ will always differ and be flavoured by the preserved folk beliefs, traditions, customs, lore, historical magical rites, charms and impedimenta of the region in which its practice is rooted. Traditional witchcraft is regional witchcraft, it is not and never has been a standardised practice and long may this continue to be the case. The day witchcraft loses regional variation is the day traditional witchcraft ceases to exist.

Traditional Witchcraft, Gemma Gary (2008)

[httpiastri]

hands hands hands hands hands

[taamlok]

one of my mutuals just posted about this but i'm going to say it too: the way a lot of ya'll are making fun of sapphics for one of the only canon lesbian relationships in gaming being unceremoniously destroyed by a studio who didn't even make the characters for a cash grab is super gross and not cute!! if you're not sapphic/a lesbian you truly can not understand what pricefield means to lesbian culture, shut up

[yamsgarden]

holy shit time flies...

[ganondoodle]

sometimes i wish i was one of those artist that make people go "this is a PAINTING???" or "with WHAT programm/medium???" but its just not what i can do or find fun :/

[ottosbigtop]

Something about mistranslations and perspectives and trying very very hard.

[tazmiilly]

it gets so confusing when I have dreams where I talk about my dreams.

I'll talk to someone I haven't spoken to in a year and be like "hey I've been having dreams about you!" <- doesn't know this is also not real

[pkaykim]

Oofurixmas2022 for @meela-31

[kateis-cakeis]

I think what really gets to me with the finale is that Merlin was so close to getting Arthur to the lake. Yet, there was no plan beyond that. It's like even if they did get there, who knows if anything would have happened.

The idea that there was still more tragedy awaiting even if they made it, that yeah despite all of Merlin’s magic, he couldn't save Arthur's life.

It was always the possibility of the Sidhe, but there was no guarantee. It was all hope from the start, endless hope that failed them in the end.

Because well, it was always supposed to happen like this anyway... Arthur was meant to die so he could rise again, there was no alternative

[keirahknightley]

When you stumble upon old photos from high school and you get that weird feeling that this was simultaneously just last week and an entirely different life, you know what i mean? It feels so close and at the same time so far away from your current life...

[redrobin-detective]

Something I think is very funny is that Ice King, Marcy and Bubblegum have been in each other's orbit for centuries before the main series. Early Marcy, hurt and isolated, I don't think would talk to or about Ice King all that much. I think she just straight up avoided him as much as she could. But she did date Bubbleum pre-series for a while and probably was at least a little emotionally vulnerable.

So I think she mentioned Simon, off handedly, like he wasn't once the most important person in her life. So imagine you're Bubblegum and your notoriously free wheeling, punk rock gf starts talking about this Simon dude. How he saved her from the wasteland, raised her, loved her as a dad and then left without explanation. This... doesn't sound like a real thing that happened. Bubblegum definitely files all Simon stories under "Things Marcy For Sure Made Up."

Now a couple of centuries pass and you learn, all in quite a rush, that not only was Marcy's "Simon" actually real but he's alive, here right now and has been the annoying Ice Wizard that has been kidnapping you for hundreds of years. I think I might lose my mind a little.