#like lookit this shit!!!

[mxkokopuff]

"I swear.. you are the single most infuriating man i've ever met. If you run off like that again a dragon isn't the only thing you'll have to worry about."

"Ah.. yes because the tiny lizard gremlin clutching to me as we kiss is so scary..~"

"shutup"

[elvisqueso]

Pocahontas (1995) is a good movie, actually, btw

[rebouks]

Brynn: You are much more silent than usual today-.. are you going to miss me?

Wyatt was going to miss Brynn a great deal, but telling her that seemed harder than it ought to be, so he said naught instead.

Brynn: You are not comfortable being happy?

Wyatt squinted, something Brynn had learnt he tended to do when she was on the right track.

Brynn: Maybe you should not fight yourself.

Wyatt: Maybe you only know I feel that way because you’re the same.

And as she tended to do when he was right, Brynn dodged Wyatt’s comment.

Brynn: Do you think I stay, if you asked me to?

Wyatt: I don’t think you want me to ask that.

Brynn: No, I don’t…

Wyatt: Do you want to stay though..?

Brynn: I not sure it’s a good idea to leave home-.. not for a man I spend only a few weeks with.

Wyatt’s brow creased, though he quickly rearranged his face; she had a point, whether he liked it or not.

Brynn: Does that hurt your feelings?

Wyatt: No…

Brynn hummed and tugged on Wyatt’s hand, forcing him to stop and face her. It was obvious he was lying. He wanted to know whether this was just a holiday fling to her, or something more, but every time he even thought about doing so it felt like someone had rammed cotton wool down his throat. He’d promised himself he’d be more honest, but it wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped…

Wyatt: What exactly would you be leaving behind? I doubt you’ve exactly made anything for yourself there-.. not with Gael’s arm to cling to.

Wyatt instantly regretted being so blunt as Brynn frowned slightly, a flash of sadness darting across her features.

Brynn: That is a cruel thing to say, no?

Wyatt: Maybe-.. though I’ve a feeling I’m right, so I’m not taking it back.

Brynn narrowed her eyes, he was right, of course. She had nothing of her own in San Myshuno. Everything she owned, down to the clothes on her back, had been paid for by Gael. She’d never thought about leaving before, she had everything she ever needed, technically-.. but spending time with someone who wasn’t afraid to interrogate her about such matters finally made her question her innermost protests, rather than burying them.

She didn’t like Gael, she didn’t like his friends or his apartment, she didn’t want him to propose, didn’t want to marry him, didn’t want to carry his children. It wasn’t ever supposed to be permanent; she wanted a life of her own…

Wyatt: Well?

Brynn: I not argue with you on my last day here.

Wyatt: We’re not arguing, are we?

Brynn: Exactly!

Wyatt ran his hand through his hair and sighed, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He needed more. He was desperate to know how she felt before she left, desperate to know how she’d gotten herself into this situation, whether she wanted out or not. He thought she did, but for once, he wasn’t sure of himself.

Wyatt: I just meant-…

He huffed as Brynn leapt on his back with a chuckle, that was the end of that then. He’d never realised until now how socially inept he was with women-.. no, intimacy; but Brynn didn’t seem to mind, maybe she could relate. He was willing to bet she knew what he was struggling with. It almost seemed as though she were goading him into being honest, like he craved to be.

Brynn: Let’s find somewhere nice-.. if you tell me what you meant, maybe I tell you a story.

He shook his head and snorted, amused; that was definitely what she was doing, wasn’t it?

Wyatt had done a lot of terrible things over the years. Amongst countless other felonies he’d taken more than a few lives - some with his bare hands - but no crime he’d committed had ever caused his heart to beat as erratically as it did now. Against his “better” judgement and despite his pounding chest, he’d held Brynn close and told her how he felt.

He told her how much he’d enjoyed spending time with her, how pleased he’d be if she stayed, and how curious he was about her situation back in San Myshuno. Brynn had softened upon hearing his words, appreciative of his honesty; and in return, she’d told him how she and Gael met…

Brynn hadn’t left Del Sol to begin with, choosing instead to remain employed by Varius, which had eventually been taken over by new management. Never embroiled in Ashton’s more nefarious business ventures, the casino and its franchise hadn’t suffered much, remaining completely operational as a result.

Gael was in town for family and work, hauled to the top floor by some of his rather more enthusiastic associates. Clearly uncomfortable, she’d taken him aside and entertained him in a different manner-.. she’d clocked him eyeing a handsome waiter surreptitiously, felt him recoil from her touch; he might’ve fooled his colleagues, but he hadn’t fooled her. Enjoying an easy night full of free drinks and cheesy jokes, she’d thought nothing of his proposition to attend an upcoming event with him the following weekend.

The event Gael had invited her to was a wedding – his brother’s wedding – and Brynn had suddenly found herself referred to as his girlfriend. She’d thought it quite funny at the time, what an odd man, paying an erotic dancer to pose as one’s partner. The money was good though, and it was much more enjoyable than working in some stuffy club, even one as fancy as Varius.

But as things do, one thing led to another and before Brynn could second guess herself, she’d agreed to move to San Myshuno and stay with Gael permanently. Genesis had seen her arse about Brynn’s newfound source of income, her friends Ace and Robert had moved away, Del Sol was smoggy and garish, held memories she’d rather forget; why wouldn’t she move back to San My? She’d have her own room in a spacious apartment, she wouldn’t have to work, Gael said he’d pay for her to finish school; it seemed like a good idea at the time, like she could have whatever she wanted.

Except she couldn’t. Gael was a controlling - albeit kind - man, terrified of being discovered by his peers. He told her where to go and when, what to wear, what to say, and how to act. He’d take her phone from her if she’d get distracted at one of his precious galas, force her to attend wellness retreats with his colleagues’ insipid girlfriends and wives whilst he and his friends smacked tiny balls with silly sticks, drag her on family vacations to hot countries where she’d get accosted by mosquitoes and prickly heat.

He’d bemoan her lack of enthusiasm when she wasn’t her usual self, but it’d been so many years that Brynn didn’t even know who she was anymore. He’d felt guilty then, promising she could pick their next destination; that it’d be just the two of them, no pretending.

Brynn had never imagined bumping into Wyatt again, but she’d often thought of him, wondering what he’d done after that fateful phone call. She’d almost felt proud of him, in a way-.. it wasn’t easy to turn against your upbringing like that, against your friends, against yourself. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt and he hadn’t taken it for granted, which was more than could be said for a lot of men she’d trusted in the past.

Having landed herself in hot water more times than she could count over the years, Brynn had learnt to be wary of her gut, but she couldn’t deny being drawn to Wyatt; she admired the change in him, despite the fact he seemed unaware of it himself. It was freeing to spend time with someone who didn’t expect her to act a certain way, someone who knew where she’d come from and what she’d been through, yet didn’t appear to judge her poorly for it. He’d done terrible things and so had she; it was nice, being on an even playing field for once.

Brynn had subsequently returned home more disheartened than ever, completely uninterested in her so-called life with Gael. She’d hoped Wyatt would call, hoped she’d get a taste of that freedom in her self-imposed cage, hoped something would magically change. But it hadn’t.

Wyatt: So, you’re not happy anymore?

Brynn: I am very happy here, with you-.. but that scares me.

Wyatt: Why?

Brynn: Because it means I have to confront the fact that I am not happy at home, and that is something I have never done before. I always find someone to take me in, but is always with conditions, I am never free-.. never happy.

Wyatt: Are you safe at least..?

Brynn: It is painfully boring, sharing a home with Gael, but he is not exactly aggressive.

Wyatt scowled; not exactly? That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, he ought to strangle-..

Brynn: I not want you to get involved, I think I would like to do something on my own for once.

Wyat: Okay…

Brynn: I put my foot down and leave, even if it means I have nothing. I not want to run to anyone else, including you.

Wyatt: That’s why you don’t want to stay?

Brynn nodded, it would’ve been easier to tell Gael to stuff it and stay here, but that was what she always did; fall into someone else’s hands. Being with Wyatt was different though, it made her want to choose him because she wanted to, because she could, not because she needed to. If that meant she had to throw everything away and strike out on her own first – even though she had no idea how to – then so be it.

Though he was glad to know the truth, Wyatt was less than thrilled with Brynn’s plan; but she craved true freedom, and after everything she’d endured – in part due to his own transgressions – he figured he owed her as much.

Wyatt: I won’t stop you then…

Brynn: This is why I love you-.. you help set me free in the end, like I to you.

Wyatt: You love me?

Brynn: You love me too, no?

Wyatt dipped his head in agreement. He wasn’t sure how it’d happened so quickly, but there wasn’t much point denying it any longer.

Brynn: Say it…

Wyatt: I love you too.

Brynn: Is not so hard, right?

Wyatt scoffed quietly and shook his head.

Wyatt: I don’t know-.. I’m sweating.

Brynn: [laughs] Ew-.. me too though.

Previous // Next

[bittercoldbrew]

Obviously the actual, Doylist explanation is that Anis Cheurfa is shorter than Boxleitner, but the much better, funnier Watsonian explanation is that when he ported him over to the new grid, Flynn went out of his way to make Tron shorter

[bananastarion]

My thing with Astarion is, yes he's beautiful, handsome, sexy, all of those things and more. But above all he is * adorable * to me.

He literally does the same thing to my brain that cats do, it's wild.

In much the same way that I can get an instant serotonin/oxytocin hit from looking at pictures of cute cats all day, despite being surrounded by cats at home that also trigger these feelings, Astarion also seems to be a bottomless well of happy chemicals for my brain.

You know that feeling when something is just sooooo cute you just have to start babbling nonsense babytalk about wanting to squeeze it and love it and nurture it and protect it forever and ever and maybe put it in a silly little hat and boop its nose and spin around with it under a rainbow

It's that feeling, there's just something so fucking cute about this borderline evil, middle aged looking vampire man and idk what it is but HE IS and I know he'd HATE being seen/treated that way SO much (understandably)

but if we were together IRL I would have one hell of a time maintaining my composure around him trying not to babytalk about his widdle teefies and god help us if his pointy ears ever twitch or wiggle because i would be in tears babbling incoherently about the cuteness

Astarion would probably murder me and id still be making the 🥹 face the whole time

[fashionbugster]

animal crossing x fashion dreamer | agnes

you reap what you sow.

[o-wyrmlight]

I'm having way too much with this chapter that I was struggling on just yesterday. What the fuck. Holy fuck. This is what happens when I read a fanfic with a great narrative voice that I adore. I just start going off, I guess. This means Kim's going to be very inwardly opinionated and vocal in Chapter 6.

Anyway whoo Chapter 6 preview for A Toast To The Pigs, a fanfic where Harry didn't lose his memory in Martinaise and still has to solve the case. This preview skips the next chapter:

“…I lost you there, didn’t I?” Harrier asked, sounding disappointed. “Somewhere at the end.” Kim lifted his eyes from his notebook. He stopped flicking his pen in his fingers to push his glasses back up from where they were sliding. Harrier was watching Joyce Messier, a brow raised and a half-crooked grin plastered on his face. Some offshoot of that odd expression of his. Joyce Messier smiled apologetically, shaking her head. Ah. Joyce Leyton-Messier. Kim had almost forgotten entirely that she was there. She really was committed to just listening to his theories and not sharing anything. What was it again that spurred Harrier to share absolutely everything about his theories right here? Rather than somewhere he and Kim could go over in private? Wasn’t this supposed to be confidential? These were just theories. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps it was another can-opening. All right, big man. Wet dog. Can-open away.

[the-holy-ghosted]

GUESS WHOS BACK AND MAD AS HELL?

[istherewifiinhell]

well here we go folks

[ID: Close on 80s comic Megatron, black helm, large yellow optics. his excessive diaglogue: Indeed, Ravage. We have lived peacefully with the Autobots for eons slowly secretly gathering our strength and pursuing our technology, now we shall strike at those who have brought the stagnation of peace and plenty to cybertron. They shall learn the way of conflict... The way of war... The way of Megatron. END]

oh boy.... marvel transformers no. 1 (or 1-2 in tfuk...) published 1984.

normally id put my credits ABOVE the cut... but um...

plot: Bill Mantlo script: Ralph Macchio pencils: Frank Springer inks: Kim Demulder lettering: Michael Higgins, Rick Parker colour: Nelson Yomtov editor: Bob Buduansky EiC: jim shooter digital re-master by digikore studios limited. collection edits by Justin Eisinger and Alonzo Simon. editorial notes and assistance by Mark. W. Bellomo

jeez.... it takes a fucking village i guess. if youve seen my previous comics blogging, you might know digital remasters arent my fav... but. the amount of READING. in tiny tiny text. in this childrens toy comic. have any of u seen ennervated used in a comic before?? and speaking of reading...

[Caption box: But the Decepticons were fresh, fully fueled for the battle... the word fueled written strangely. END]

does. does that say fubleo?

[ID: 1. same captioned from the uk printing, saying fueled with two L's. 2. from an older US printing, much lower res and smudged, but the E and D still look correct with the rest of the type used. END]

So ADDING text errors. thats a new one.

anyway i couldnt begin to nor would i subject you to a comprehensive summary post. robot shit happens. the comic script seems to be fully printed into the book, even tho... surely the pictures are communicating... some of it. anyway. what are we here for.

[ID: Panel of Megatron walking towards the camera, menacing, canon raised saying "Strike! Strike! With all the might at our command! Death to the autobots and the decay they stand for!" END]

why he kinda...

[ID: Small drawing of Optimus walking, in a awkward maybe hurried way. END]

bigfooting it up here.

[ID: 1. small drawing with huffer doing repairs, hes faced away with his butt kind of popped out. 2. cartoon huffer drawn with really curvy portions at the chest and hips. END]

im not sure why 'huffer baby girl' is a thing but. you know. two nickles

[ID: Starscream and Thundercracker talking in jet mode. S: I told Megatron this frontal assault tactic he's so fond of is foolish, Thundercracker. Guile and stealth are far more effective than missiles in he long run. T: We have to follow Megatron's way, Starscream, It's been successful up to now. I don't think we should openly defy him as you've been known to do. END]

well least thats still the same

[ID: Tall narrow panel of a castle thats more gothic than scifi. "Meanwhile, inside the foreboding Castle Decepticon that was home to Megatron" END]

SORRY? he was just? draculaing it up on cybertron?? okay.

[ID: Panel showing a young man, buster, looking under Bumblebee's hood. Caption box: And. Not far away... Buster's thinking "The noises coming from this car are really weird! Almost like… Crying! It's been badly damaged-- leaking something that looks like… but isn't… oil!" END]

BUMBLEBEE CRYING??? HELLO??? what are you doing to my boy. (also yes. its not spike the ambiguously aged tradesman teen, son of a mechanic... but, Buster, bookish nerd who's father is disappointed in him reading to much trying to get a scholarship... [Chanel boots voice] okay... i see your foppish intellectualism and pink shirt buster.

finally. finally. IS THERE A SCRIPT DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE. fellas. this is not how a comic layout goes

[ID: Panel of Megatron in front of his assembled troops asking "... Are well all account for on this brave new world?" The panel is absolutely crammed with text, as all NINE of them sound off with a whole unnaturally phrased character bio paragraph, and Megatron concludes. END]

Im not sure that was.... the best way to do that.... but okay

[ID: Panel of Optimus and his Autobots just kinda standing around very 3/4 model sheet style, as Optimus says "Now let me insure that our people have each survived intact," followed by SEVEN autobot intros. END]

guys...... this is painful. WHAT is ironhide gonna do with his liquids?!?! what are bumblebees LITTLE LEVERS? altho... cute that he likes to swim?? at least there was less of them then the--

OH NO

[ID: A full PAGE of 10 additional autobot intros. END]

Head in hands.... why............... are they getting weirder as it goes or, am i just in increasing amounts of pain?

OKAY. thats post theres no more editorial beyond this point. but.... ocr'd these so..... if anyone is crazy enough want to peruse these ENTIRE BIOS. but needs some plaintext aid... (and re/unfixing the remaster errors lol) this ones for you. dont start of frenzy and rumble.....

Skywarp's up for raiding sir. And my teleportational power'll pop me right into their midst to make mischief. As ever, your cause is Thundercracker's great Megatron. Our land-bound enemy will be picked off at will as I soar over them, striking with rockets and sonic booms. As the fastest most maneuverable of Decepticon jet flyers, I, Starscream, shall continue to accumulate Autobot body-counts that enhance the reputation of our leader. Can the speeches, huh, Star? Rumble's back in town and I'm gonna shake the place up with some low frequency ground-waves. You hit em from up top and I'll do the job down here. And I, Frenzy, will shatter our opponents' equilibrium,using high- pitched soundwaves. I will not cease until every Autobot is slain, and you, Soundwave? I will monitor transmissions and read Autobot electrical impulses to learn their plans even my photographic memory serves as a defensive weapon. Does even that compare with Ravages power to slip undetected anywhere? And my own monitoring devices in my nose module allow me to smell, hear and detect electromagnetic radiation beyond that of any decepticon It all pales next to the artistry of Buzzsaw. I can pinpoint a hexnut at twenty miles with my optical sensors. And my beak has carved many an Autobot warrior into a masterpiece of scrap metal. Just leave some for Laserbeak, comrades allow me a few struggling survivors of our battle and I'm certain till pry some useful information from them with my optical lasers… Even if they die in the telling. Come. Our time to strike is later. The ship's brain has placed into our circuits the knowledge that this world possesses enormous untapped fuel resources resources we can exploit in our struggle against the Autobots.

Ironhide's ready to roll, Optimus, I may be old and ornery, but my steel-alloy skin hasn't been dented yet in battle. And I've got a bunch of new liquids I want to test out in my water gun, yessiree. Oh, I say we leave right now and forget about traipsing after the stupid decepticons, I'll use my stress testing sensors and mathematical skill to rebuild the ark and get us back to Cybertron where we belong. C'mon, Huffer, get with it! I only require a drop of fuel to run, so I'm going to explore this whole planet- especially since The Ark said so much of it is water, and Bumblebee's little levers love a good swim. Well, Sunstreaker isn't leaving until the rest of this world gets a look at the sleekest Autobot in the bunch. And if any Decepticon dares to mess with the finish-- he'll get two ground-to-air missiles stuffed where he won't want them. If you were as fast as Cliffjumper is, Sunstreaker, you wouldn't worry about your finish, and while I'm dodging fire my "Glass gas" can make any Decepticon brittle as ice. Hun, Brawn don't need any gas to rip things up, nobody's stronger'n me. One punch and yer buildin'-- or decepticon--goes bye bye. Sideswipe's right up there with you, Brawn, because I use my arms as Piledrivers. I admit, it's a little rash to rush headlong at Decepticon fortifications, but not one of them's stopped me yet.

Frankly, I'd rather be elsewhere hunting turbofoxes than with you roughnecks, but, while we're here, my electro-disrupter is charged up. It not only interferes with decepticon circuitry, it also makes me appear to be where I'm not that's why I'm called Mirage. Nice to hear how you got your name, Mirage. Now, I got mine, Bluestreak by being as fast as a blue streak.. Whatever that is. Some wise guys even said I talk a blue streak--whatever that is. Anyway, here I am. Listening to you, Bluestreak, taxes even the endless patience of Prowl. I have little to say, but my logic center dictates the most advantageous course of action in any situation. Well, that is neat-o, Prowl. But me, Jazz, I'd like to just cruise around and take in the sights. And if I've got to fight well my photon rifle and overhead flamethrowers can make things hot for the big nasties. You burn them, Jazz, but let Hound sniff, them out for you. My infra-red radiation collector makes me the best tracker on or off cybertron, and if I ever get lost, my hologram gun projects terrain maps to get me back on track. Just let Windcharger zoom ahead and scrap a Decept between my magnetic arms. I'll take in this planet's scenery later. The only thing Gears wants to learn about this planet is how to get off it. I hate this place already, I just know you're going to use me as a mobile transport unit again once we have to set up. Nuts. Let's go home Well, at least you don't have to patch Autobots up like old Ratchet does, when one of us busts himself up playing hero, but I've got the tools to fix anything-- even though I'd rather be partying than tinkering. And Wheeljack is the guy you've had to patch up most. I can't help it. I love to mess with gadgets -- especially our weaponry, like my shoulder cannons. I try to be careful, but sometimes it doesn't work. Thanks for being around, Ratchet, old buddy. I don't know how many times I, Trailbreaker had to use my force-field projector and hide behind my own barrier when you're experimenting with those shrapnel shells. You're worse than a wild Decepticon, Wheeljack.

[traggalicious]

[alirhi]

"Queer is a slur" bitch queer is a badge of honor that we fashioned from the bullets that killed our brothers and sisters and you will pry that badge out of my cold dead fingers.

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

135. The Perfect Find (2023)

[groupalpha]

I am honestly curious how your organs function, but the only way to see that would be dissecting you in such a way that you stay alive so that your organs continue functioning, which is quite morally questionable, and would be quite painful for you, which I do not wish upon you, so it will remain a mystery.

Anyways, what’s your opinion on Bubbles so far?

TA: Uh... thanks???

TA: And uh, Bubbles is fine. They got one of those squidcadas.

[fstbmp-a]

"I'll kick my own ass, even if I have to learn stupid magic bullshit to do it!"

[ailithnight]

Didn't realize this was LBM at first.

Was perfectly content to accept that Danny is just feral enough to do this as a regular half ghost boy.

John: Bruce Wayne, I presume? Bruce: Right. Mister? John: John Constantine. I know this is going to sound strange but I have information in my possession that the High King of Infinite Realms is hiding in your manor. Bruce: Oh, I know that. John: What? Bruce: Lil gremlin scratched my favorite leather couch. John*imagines Pariah Dark*: Are you sure it was.. Bruce: Yeah, a burning crown, a ring.. I wanted to tell Damian to take him back to the trash can where he found him. but he’s already gotten along with our cat Alfred so we’ll keep him. John: But Bruce: All the best. The door slams in front of the warlock.

[motorclit]

Have any of you reading this ever been stuck in a rut be it due to depression, stress, Autistic burnout (or even regular burnout) and no matter what you did, nothing helped? And then you decide to go through your subscriptions on YT and a punk rock historian covers an era/genre of music you still adore, and mentions modern/newer bands inspired by such a sound/movement and you check out one of them and discover the ONE SONG that SOMEHOW through GOD/DESS-LIKE INTERVENTION is like injecting life into your veins and you suddenly wanna do shit again? And then you hyperfocus on the song and play it over and over irl and in your head and now you can't wait to get your hands on some supplies and start DIY'ing shit again?

That's me right now. With this song listed above.

The song is "Womanarchist" by Bad Cop/Bad Cop and I now have life in my body again.

And I don't know how or why I didn't think to look this up earlier, but my brain finally realized that I can look up tutorials on how to DIY your own patches effectively without the need for acrylic paint, which means I can make quality patches for myself, including ones of bands I adore but can't find patches (or shirts!) anywhere on the internet.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some jeans to bleach and dye and some supplies to (eventually.. money's tight for about a week) get so I can make shit again! (I'll probably post pics of my political pants in the near-future, just note that they're not done yet because I'm a picky shit).