#just in case i missed something

[olive-is-a-jim]

Showstopping Sabrina

Episode 1: "Stairwell Sabrina"

This is a rework of a story concept I’ve had for a while called “Self-Insert Sabrina”, where Sabrina travels through different fandom universes and has misadventures and such. It has been taken in a different direction.

Sabrina one day visits an antique shop with many curious items priced at nearly extortionate denominations. Near the back in a section with vintage but still wearable clothing, there’s a box. Its price tag is $2.50 and feel very out of place. It’s made of what seems to be bronze and tin, with 100 tiny glass light bulbs arranged in a circle on top, none of which are lit. The design all over the box is a simple square wave, the top section in bronze with the bottom in tin.

Sabrina decides to take it, as well as a nice locket that’s displayed near the cash register. She pays for her items and walks home, letting her mind empty out as the day slowly fades into evening.

After a good hour and a half of walking (she’s gotten used to it at this point due to living up in the hills) Sabrina sees her family home. She goes to open the door and one of the lights on the box starts to glow as Sabrina is suddenly teleported to another universe.

She finds herself in a dilapidated house not out of place of something built and decorated in the 1970’s besides three things:

1: It’s been trashed and broken in numerous spots.

2: The box is annoyingly heavy enough to be straining but not enough to be incapable of carrying.

3: The foyer extends nearly endlessly, only having the sight of a stairwell to betray this idea.

Sabrina nervously walks her way over after noting that the wall behind her has no door. The hall feels like it loops, even the trash and gashes in the architecture repeating and disorientating. She reaches the stairwell after what feels like thirty minutes, her stomach dropping as she looks down.

The stairs spiral in both directions endlessly, the geometry distorting the further down she looks. There’s trash everywhere and Sabrina takes a moment to notice that all the ruined objects are her childhood toys, each one more mutilated than the last. It’s utterly disturbing and she doesn’t know why she’s here nor if whatever pushed her in this twisted world did so with intent. There’s a good chance it wasn’t made with her in mind, perhaps being just a reflection of her own psyche the moment she appeared.

But it doesn’t matter to Sabrina, not in the slightest. She determines that, no, there is not time enough for introspection when in this bizarre place. Or any uncomfortable situation, though calling right now uncomfortable is quite the understatement. Sabrina does continue to pause, trying to decide which direction to go- up… or down.

She takes the stairs upwards and while the contents nor the shape of the steps are able to be predicted from her line of sight, it’s not going further into darkness the deeper down you go. Sabrina places one foot on the musty carpeted flight, stepping on a pocket between the fabric and the wood, and curls inward as hundreds of dust particles and moldy spores get catapulted into her face. The wood creaks as if stepping on a plastic skeleton, squeaky and shiversome.

She goes up and tightens a hold on the box, the light in the room getting brighter. It’s a good sign, right? At least she can see where she’s going, right?

It gets brighter. The trash is still everywhere and the surrounding walls are still grody and decayed, but it’s getting brighter. The ruined toys start losing details that make them recognizable to Sabrina: Stuffed bears without faces, fashion dolls wearing simple white cloths, and music boxes all playing the same note over and over.

Eventually she guesses she’s reached the very top of the building as the step extends wider in all directions. It’s still cramped and she can’t help but trip over objects that are now just rounded geometric shapes. Most notably is the light. It’s the exact opposite of pitch black, a brightness so bright and colorless yet it distinctly does not hurt her eyes. It’s as if everything that exists was invisible and this is what is left.

Sabrina feels around with one arm, the other firmly gripping the box, for a wall. Through the trash she find one with strange ridges, divots and bumps in the wooden boards giving an uncannily familiar impression that-

Oh wait, it’s just a door.

…

Sabrina lunges, arm rapidly tossing trash to clear out a path for her. She scrambles to find the handle, and after forever she does. The box is gripped between her neck and upper arms, her head bent forward to keep it in place as she shakes the handle as if were a comatose loved one.

Insects singing. Splintery wood. Molded, musty air. Droning clicks. Bright. Nothingness. And Sabrina.

Her energy is nearly spent and the box about threatens to fall from her clutches. She keeps one hand on the door handle, and the box in the other. She uses her free, shaking fingers to wipe away budding tears. The door won’t open. Her senses now allied against her. The box is poking her ribs.

Sabrina is tired. Why was she here? What caused this? How much time has even passed?

It was this box. This stupid box. She grows infuriated on the spot, kicking at the door with what little left she has in her muscles.

The wood breaks, dust and termites flying out. The door’s hinges snap and the entire plank falls down with a resounding thud.

She’s done. Sabrina is done, she’s had enough. There’s not an ounce of pride left but she swallows it regardless, and grimly steps through the broken doorframe. As she finally steps out of the stairwell her vision is restored instantly. Sabrina looks around.

She’s at the foyer again. The destroyed door is gone, the wall the same as she saw originally. Sabrina leans against the wall to the left of the false entrance, sliding down and surely staining her shirt yellow-brown. She holds the box tightly, arms folded around it. She squeezes it, unsure if for some sick comfort or to try and punish the damned thing.

Slow and shallow breaths leave her lungs which fill with dust and mold. Sabrina will die here, won’t she?

She closes her eyes, thinking about how normal her day was. At the edge of a slow, slow death- now is the time to self-reflect.

Sabrina was just shopping. Sabrina was just looking. Sabrina was only really going to get the locket in the end. Sabrina was going to go home and show her friends. Sabrina was going to enjoy the rest of her night with company. Sabrina was going to be content where she was.

Sabrina was going to be content where she was.

Sabrina was going to be content.

Taking a deep breath Sabrina prepares to fall asleep here, not even caring if it’s daytime or if there will be daytime at all if she wakes.

She goes to lay down on the disgusting carpet. The box clicks and another tiny light bulb glows.

Sabrina is falling, and rapidly too. It’s sickening, spinning out of control and in every direction. Her hair flies in her face, her grip on the box a struggle to maintain. It gets faster and faster until she

 falls

  down

    into the

       ocean.

[littledemonlorne]

Chapters: 11/15 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character Characters: Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s) of Color, Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Original Trans Character(s), Original Cat Character(s) Additional Tags: Native American Character(s), Trans Male Character, Cannibalism, Mountains, Cabins, Winter, Birthday Party, birthday week, Creature Fic, goes from bad to worse to sort of bittersweet, Self-Discovery, Fear of Discovery, Forced Cannibalism, Forced Kissing, French Kissing, Forced Feeding Summary:

How could it have gone like this? Why did it have to be them? Just why in the world did it have to be him? And just what did it want from him? Truly want from him?

[hinamie]

色彩 [Shikisai]

[miwtual]

im so fucking tired of the disrespect gifmakers get on the gifmaker website

[millipedegf]

[wip] slippin' inside

[luna-loveboop]

Currently obsessed with the idea that the boys go to Time for love advice, since "he's married so he knows this stuff right?"

I mean they couldn't recognize a wedding ring??? And neither did he???

And time was saying this in his youth I mean cmon

Twilight: So ancestor. What would you do if like. Malon left to another world and never came back

Time: ... bro Malon called me fairy boy and then we were married like what

Hyrule: So uhh old man. How does one. Meet a girl.

Time: By speaking to her I guess? Or not, Malon did the talking for me

Hyrule: riiiiight...

Wild *no tact*: Hey so like... what if your redheaded wife who's name started with M died.

Time: what?!?!

Wild, undeterred: but like before she proposed.

Time: ...

Wild: and you don't remember if you would have said yes. What's your advice for dealing with that?

Time: ... vent to a fairy?

Warriors: hey old man

Time: no no no not this one asking me please

Warriors: how do I get women to stop coming after me. So I can ya know. Choose without war trying to force me into relationships

Time: I can safely say I've never had that problem captain

Wars: of course not *smirks*

Wars: ok but seriously how do I make them go away

Time: ... wear a wedding ring so they think you're taken, I've got a shiny extra

Time: no no why- they won't stop, I don't know how to do love!

Time: ok well at least I have legend. That kid would never ask for advice, I'll sit by him.

Legend: so old man.

Time, looking forward to a normal conversation: yeah?

Legend: hypothetically, what would you do if you found out Malon didn't exist.

Legend: And her whole world didn't, but it did, and now it doesn't

Time: ...Excuse me for a minute.

Time, writing a letter as fast as he can: MALON HOW DO I GIVE LOVE ADVICE THEY THINK IM WISE

Malon: lol

Happy Valentine's Day guys, have a headcanon :P

The boys go to Time for love advice and Time spouts whatever wise-sounding bs he can, before shoving them all on Malon for therapy when they visit the ranch

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse! :D

[violent138]

I would find it so funny if Bruce Wayne, who has an ironic and slightly ridiculous disdain for the occult, had to grapple with his kids' deep belief in the occult. For instance, if one of their siblings went missing with no leads, Bruce would insist on a new search strategy while the kids would be convinced they should at least consult a medium once to get proof of life. The medium would call out Batman for his shitty energy and Bruce would contemplate all the life decisions that led to this.

[polychromaic]

🌸 when the Hindriarch banished Eskhind and her kin from Bey Lah, Neelahind would follow her heart into voluntary exile. To abandon a surefooted life, as well as a coveted spot among the Fellowship, is nearly unheard of among both hindren and Wardens, but Neelahind was glowing when she took her leave. I hear the pair are quite happy together, practicing arconautics in the ruins to the west—at least, that's what the kendren bring news of when they come back to trade.

back at it again w more caves of qud deer gals 😏✨ i'm kind of enamored with the ending to the Bey Lah quest where Esk and Neela both take off, so i wanted to see what they'd look like as a matched set of lesbian pariah-arconauts. geez, i can’t believe it’s been almost two years since i drew them last

image descriptions under break!

img desc: A drawing of a hindren deerfolk girl from "Caves of Qud". On the left a title card reads "Pariah Neelahind (she/her)". Some of the details are labeled. Her fur is a rich cedar red, with a lighter heartwood underbelly curling under her arms and on the inside of her legs down to her hooves; her curly hair is dark mahogany, tied back in a ponytail with a sky-blue bandana; her antlers are a pale heartswood, deepening to a rich velvet at the tines. She’s smiling, looking up and off to her right; she's poised upright, her arms spread to either side of her as she grips the haft of her war-scythe Yal, which is laying across her shoulders. She’s wearing shining steel platemail—a breastplate over a nanoweave surcoat patterned with pale lemon slices over pink (called "Pink Lemonade"); her armor is incomplete, but well taken care of. She’s wearing leather braces, a steel gauntlet on her left hand only, and a woven blue sash and bedroll across her back.

img desc: A drawing of a hindren deerfolk girl from "Caves of Qud". On the right a title card reads "Pariah Eskhind (she/it)". Some of the details are labeled. Her fur is ashen, with her pale undercoat spotting through on her forearms and flanks. Her messy hair is a greenish bleach-blonde, and one of her ears has a hole in it; her antlers are pale and their velvet is darker grey, and they're covered in little tied-on charms and brass tine hornaments. She has an eyepatch over her left eye, and a gap between her front teeth. She's grinning, slouching in a relaxed fashion, pulling back her hood with one hand and flashing a rock-on with the other; her front two legs are crossed, while the back two are spread like she's posing for a picture. She's wearing a well-worn chainmail hauberk, which extends down over her back; a ragged cowl, with buttoned slots along the hem of the hood for her antlers to fit through; a leather bracer on her left wrist, a steel pauldron on her right shoulder, a fingerless elastyne glove on her right hand, and two pairs of croccasins on her hooves. A pocketed saddle is slung over her back, along with a backpack and bedroll; on either side, the pockets are full of tools and bits. Tucked into her swordbelt is a sheathed folding carbide longsword and a gaslight kris; slung across her chest is a bolt-action rifle called "Peashooter" (it has a lesbian flag on its stock). Around her legs are several beaded bracelets and charms; one of them is the rightfully reclaimed Kindrish, complete with its carved deer charm.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

gonna say, something or someone being misogynistic is on its own a good enough reason not to like it or not to spend time with that person. It's not just that misogyny is so normalised that not watching a show or not spending with someone just because of misogyny is treated as not enough of a reason - it's also that as a woman, you are under constant scrutiny and constantly thrown tests to show that you are 'not one of the difficult ones', that you can 'take a joke'.

But 'your friend keeps saying degrading things about women' is a good enough reason not to hang out with that person or not to go to a gathering. 'i read the last book by his author and it was deeply misogynistic' is a good enough reason why you don't want to read things by that author anymore. 'This comedian specifically makes a lot of mean-spirited jokes about women' reason enogh not to watch that or see that show, even if your friends want to go. 'This content creator keeps going on weird tangents about women' reason enough not to watch their stuff or support them.

and it is especially a very good reason not to date someone.

[doctorsiren]

I think it’s funny how, before I knew about Edgeworth’s note, I would see art on Tumblr that I felt like was trying to convince me that Miles was dead. I knew he wasn’t. I knew he didn’t die because I had seen Edgeworth’s Chief Prosecutor sprite on his wiki page. However, I started feeling like Tumblr was trying to gaslight me into believing he was dead because there would be art of Phoenix or Franziska just crying over Miles being gone, and y’know what? Good on Tumblr for giving me a bit of the Phoenix Wright Experience (TM) in believing this man wasn’t alive anymore.

[critter-wizard]

ep 43 had me tearing up in a fucking shopping centre ‼️‼️

b+w alt version that I truly couldn't decide if I liked it more . Also I included a lot of thoughts in the tags but they're somewhat incoherent<3

[tinyplanetss]

i like thinking about different reasons phillip referred to his partner/husband by his (their?) last name, such as

1. (normal) it's a work thing and so he wanted to be as professional as he could be while covered in flour

2. (gay people) gay people nicknames are just like that sometimes. maybe phillip started calling him that before they got together and it just stuck

3. (gay people 2) it's fun when you're gay married to nod at each other and go "hello mr. blanc" "hello to you too mr. blanc" hehehehe same name go brrr :)

[ukuslip]

i will get her out of that godforsaken show i swear

[cozylittleartblog]

small PSA: if you shop at craft shows or artist alleys, please bring more than apple pay or a virtual card - especially if you're not comfortable entering your card number manually. not all of us have fancy card readers, so please also bring your physical card or cash, even if it's only as backup 👍

[holdmymetaphor]

okay when i started rewatching house, it took me until 3x15 but i started to notice a pattern in house's wardrobe. the scene where foreman was trying to express sadness(?) at house's (fake) brain cancer they were both wearing pink.

After that I noticed that any time house was wearing pink, they were particularly vulnerable moments. Moments that he's feeling tender or open. Moments where he is being pretty earnest.

Then I started to notice that other colored shirts came up at different times. Light blue was his most neutral state, it represents logic and reason imo. Maybe a little bit of humor. There's a lightness or surface-ness to it.

Purple represents something like consequences or grief or guilt. any time there is purple someone is bearing the weight of a decision that was made, or a complex situation.

Black represents, as you can imagine, death. the darkest moments we see house in black.

The other colors aren't as prominent, but I have theories. Red is sex, power, life, excitement, ego. tan is neutrality. white is almost naive. green is rare and house never wears it. Dark blue is still logic but more solemn, more deep. its also interesting to note the times when he doesn't wear a t-shirt under his dress shirt and leaves like 3 buttons open (hubba hubba) and when he /only/ wears a t-shirt. I think his dress shirt is almost like his armor.

[dykedvonte]

Something something perhaps the reason Curly lacks a truly undamaged ID where his face is visible is to represent how much damage Jimmy had already affected on him throughout their relationship and the way Curly obscured part of who he is and what he stood to unintentionally cater to this toxic influence in his life.