#lmk if anything needs changed !

[nobroth]

starter for @ourdawncomes [gorim]

"Sooo... she mentioned that she got sentenced to go into the Deep Roads alone to fight the darkspawn," Alistair says slowly, his head tilting at the dwarf at the fire next to him, seemingly having settled in with them for the night. "Do the dwarves not... worry about doing things like that? I mean, with the darkspawn. The Taint. What do you all do if--"

"I mean, I know she was sentenced to death or whatever," probably too light a tone for the subject, and Alistair grimaces at his own fault before barreling through. "So I guess they didn't expect her back. But why don't more dwarves Join the Wardens? If you fight the creatures all the time? What do you do if someone comes back sick?"

[oftomorrow]

@wundor

Ever since Clark officially revealed himself to the world as Superman, he's noticed people beginning to follow in his footsteps. Whether he's inspired them directly or they've simply started around the same time as him, he can't really say. But there's something reassuring about it. There's a handful now that he's keeping a closer watch on -- a masked vigilante in Gotham, a speedster in Central City, an archer in Star City... and lately, reports of a truly impressive woman with a lasso around the Boston area.

He has to check it out for himself. Keeping an ear out works before too long -- a news report on her latest escapade, and Clark is zipping across state lines at top speeds, determined to catch her in action. He watches from a distance, but doesn't interfere. It doesn't look like she needs the help.

Only after all the civilians are safe and mostly dispersed does he make his presence known, floating above the ground several feet behind her, cape billowing slightly in the breeze. "That was very impressive."

[hvbris]

@ofmentorship . Haymitch gets a starter

When Lucy Gray had appeared at the reaping for the first time, three years after her victory, she had half expected Coriolanus to send peacekeepers to her door. For weeks after the 13th Hunger Games, she thought he would kill her, somehow. But then, he didn't.

She kept his secrets.

37 years later, she was still alive, and he was still President. It was a strange status quo. She had children now, and every year she feared their names might get picked at the reaping. And every year, her relief was only short-lived. Yes, her children were safe, but she still had two tributes to protect. Somebody else's kids, who might never come back home. And for 37 years, she kept being the only mentor. How could the tributes of District 12 stand a chance, with their famished bodies and inexperienced hands.

This year, however, was worse than ever. Four children. Four.

"Hello there," she said gently, sitting down in front of the only tribute who hadn't run to their cabin as soon as they boarded the train that was quickly ripping them away from their homes. "You're Haymitch Abernathy, aren't you?"

[lifefcrged]

@rubiesintherough / wraith sent a meme.

sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be .

Her movements are quiet. Nearly imperceptible, as she slithers towards the intruder. There is an instinct, some part of her that tells her she should have stayed in her watcher's position, that she should have only seen him through the scope of her rifle. It would have been the expedient way to dispatch him. But she is restless, these days. Waiting, and patrolling fills the majority of her waking hours. Only now and then, is she brought in to question an interloper, or sent on the missions to raid other settlements. Too valuable to risk, they say. Too important to the security of the city. Boredom is a dangerous thing to let breed in a captive predator.

The security of the city. That is their mandate for her, is it not? Her brain reasons, makes the argument that she would have to present to her Keeper, to justify why she had not simply taken the shot to kill the invader. If he had made it inside the city walls, then there was a breach. And while she might be punished for that fault, how could she prevent a similar such incursion in the future, if she did not know how this man had gotten past the first layer of barricades? It sounded reasonable enough to her. "Move in any way other than to put your hands on your head and turn to face me, and I'll take out a knee." Steady. Confident, in her skill to do so. A hint, though, of an underlying itch that he might disobey. "Turn. Slowly."

/ post apocalyptic programmed! mikkah.

[impcrios]

@bewitchcd

mary was chugging her caffeine like her life depended on it, staring directly at the ministry and the gaggle of people that were probably asking the same thing : what do we do now? immediately as the dark mark hit the sky mary knew that she needed to get into action mode, she of course was an obliviator and didn't know exactly the non wixen surrounding had saw and the results didn't surprise her. she was shaking slightly, thinking of what today would bring. "oh merlin, i can't do it. i can't go in. i haven't slept i was up all night with the obliviation team and aurors." she looks over at marlene for a moment. "are you alright? i know you might have training today or is that on pause given the whole fucking skull and snake thing we saw in the sky?"

[managone16]

The Marauders, Skittles and Valkyries at IKEA:

James: Is there for the meatballs

Regulus: Is here for the plants

Sirius: Here for the doggy toys/food

Remus: here to buy bookshelves

Peter: Here for the ice cream

Marlene: Here for the hot dogs

Lily: Here for the whiteboards and planners

Pandora: Here for the Stuffed toys

Dorcas: Here for the rugs

Barty: Here for the knives

Evan: Here for the mattress

Mary: Does not know why she's here

[uharuz]

✿ SEUNGKWAN ✿ SNAPSHOOT + LEFT & RIGHT +

[crueldudethesis]

hai moot :D this guy (totally not me..) plz plz plz

ʃ HELLO HELLO MOOT !!! I had TONS of fun drawing this guy (that’s totallyyy not you) hope u enjoy broski ^_^

[brittlefcrged]

Reese had spent a lot of her life reflecting on all of the very bad days that she had, somehow, if only by the skin of her teeth, survived and -- honestly, she'd had more than a few. Most of them had involved death. The loss of her parents had shattered what semblance of control she had on her reality and left her broken beyond any possible repair - the straw that had broken the camel's back to her tenuous grip on her sanity. What was left of her after that, held together by hope and a prayer, had splintered into a thousand miniscule pieces with Marcus' loss and her first personal dance with Death.

She'd always wondered if she'd just come back wrong after that, but no matter how many times she'd thrown herself into harm's way, how many times she'd plunged the needle or the razor into her skin to dare Death to finish what it had started, she hadn't ever seemed to shake the oh so bruised and battered mortal coil. She was so tired. Every year that came and went felt like another albatross around her neck. Inevitable. Inescapable.

This time, like so many other times, she had ignored the agitated whispers in her mind, had ignored the twisting in her gut and the icy chill that had left icicles in her spine at his voice, at his touch. After all -- what was the worst that could happen?

Strange, then, that for as much as she had courted Death, that she should fight so hard to live. Fought against the vice like grip of his fingers around her throat -- struggled for consciousness, against the swirl of black and white explosions at the edges of her vision, fought against the fiery burn of whatever he had injected her with, her throat raw from her curses and her screams. Even the darkness that swallowed her conscious thoughts had not been merciful. She had felt it all. Each precise angle of the scalpel through the layers of her skin, each press of fingers and metal against the organs and muscles that he had toyed with, rearranged, prodded, sliced, excised.

She had heard - felt - the staggered, sluggish beat of her pulse as it weakened, as it slowed, and somewhere in the haze of her memories, she could hear a melody that wound in time with it until there were finally no more tears to stain her temples, there was no more staccato drum of pulse, there was no more pain, and even the blackness itself had simply... gone.

The breath that was drawn in was rough, and loud, and desperate - the spasm that tore through her was violent, and sharp - fingers flared and limbs pulled up against the straps that held her in place and confusion and panic were written in equal measure on her expression as she tried to find some sense in the position she found herself in and the pain that throbbed and stung in her flesh. Was she dreaming? Had it been a dream? Was any of this real? "Help -- " Her words were hoarse, raspy. "Help me ---"

@brittlefcrged gets a plotted starter

The silence was a heavy contrast to the previous crying and screams. That was part of the thrill, separate from the rush of power when watching a person's life drain from their eyes. The blonde lay lifeless with a bruise around her neck from Benjamin's hand. Choking had not killed her, though, it had only made her more cooperative while he had prepared the table, tarp, and tools. No, what had ultimately killed her was slowly bleeding out while Benjamin operated on her insides.

With a gloved hand, he brushed the messy hair from her face and watched her in silence. She reminded him of someone. Unsure of whom. "What will they write about you, Reese Adams?" She was a horrible choice to pick as a victim. He knew this. Yet he had done all this anyway, and taken extra precautions to not get caught - at least not immediately. His eyes traveled down her exposed chest and carefully sewn-shut abdomen. She wasn't stripped of her clothes - only her top had been cut open in the middle and moved aside. He wasn't a pervert. 

He removed his gloves, put them down on a tray next to a kidney, and moved to gently remove Reese's own. "Thank you, ma'am." He carefully rolled them up and pocketed them. Just a nice little reminder, or a trophy if you will. Now only the most boring part was left. "Ugh. This is why I stopped, wasn't it," he grunted and turned to the rest of the shed. It wasn't that messy as he liked to keep things clean, but it didn't make it less of a shore to clean everything up. 

[the-king-of-lemons]

Headcanon i've had for a while now about how minecraft hack clients could work, similar to the headcanons about how in game chat would work.

Just sort of an explanation with some examples, obviously some hacks are pretty hard to translate into a physical thing, but i tried my best. :)

Full text can also be found under read more.

"Hack Clients" are illegal modifications of a player's attire (i.e. player skin) in order to give them an unfair advantage. The visibility of a "Hack Client" modification depends on the server a player is on. On servers such as 2b2t, these modifications are obviously visible while on stricter servers, such as Hypixel, hackers will try to be more subtle, often hiding modifications underneath clothing.

Eyewear: Modified for use of visual hacks (i.e. x-ray. fullbright, esp, etc.), the easiest to hide from moderators.

Footwear: Modified for use of hacks such as Anti-Knockback, High-jump, and other similar hacks.

Mechanical Braces: Used to allow players to move with otherwise impossible reaction times, most often used for PVP. Completely illegal on most servers, players will attempt to hide them underneath clothing but often fail.

Leg brace: Used for b-hopping.

Arm brace: Used for kill-aura and aimbot.

[couch-house]

Commissions for @son1c, @splashtail (and @sonboygemerl), @spoiledskullz, @sonia-the-hedgehog-2369, and @onesecretperson!!

These were so much fun!! Thank you all for commissioning me <33

[vulpinesaint]

I really like your writing style. Do you have any literature you can share that you use as inspo?

going to start by disclaiming that from a specifically stylistic approach, i don't know if i have any writers that are distinctly similar. i do have writers that i find inspiring, though! if none of these are helpful for style, i hope they can inspire you in the same way that they make me aspire to achieve fantastic things with my writing :) i am always a poet first and foremost, whether it's poetry or prose (which is often just poetry hiding in a longer form), so most of my recommendations are poems; i have a few books at the end, though, just in case. everything that i link here should be free to access!

i am like 90% sure that anyone seeing this will already know that i keep all my poetry over at @trickstersaint, but just in case you're coming direct from a quiz, that's the place to read more of my writing! now. onto my list of a bunch of other trans poets with tumblr platforms 🖤

keaton st. james (@boykeats), i think, was the first modern poet that i really found and loved. stumbling across some of his dictionary poems as a younger poet was so revolutionary to me, and reading his poetry changed the way that i thought about and approached poetry as a whole. inspiration in the way of seeing the things that someone can do with poetry. opening up all the limits. this is what every good poem will do for you a little bit, i think, but keaton st. james is always my first recommendation for a modern poet. highly recommend his collections growth and light (i personally really love light. guy who is normal about religion voice) and rural boys watch the apocalypse is to me what that one richard siken poem about being in a car with a beautiful boy is to everyone else haha

other poets whose work i really enjoy and admire include silas denver melvin (@sweatermuppet) and dante émile (@orpheuslament)! recommending the poems an impractical marvel and dioscuri from them, respectively. sweatermuppet also has a full collection called grit, and orpheuslament has one called misplaced organs and various saints (this particular one isn't free but linking it here!) :)

my favorite poem since high school has been gravity by maura o'connor. life-changing. that poem is just like me for real.

for more of a narrative style, if you've read + liked my piece aromanticism, i definitely recommend with those we love alive by porpentine! really gorgeous twine piece with a kind of mysticism to it that could definitely tie back into the kind of stuff you'd see in my little quizzes too :)

if you're looking for actual literature-as-in-books, i can point you towards our wives under the sea by julia armfield and white is for witching by helen oyeyemi. both are novels that i've enjoyed for their kind of eclectic and poetic writing recently! i will also take any chance to recommend my favorite book, which is the hours by michael cunningham; regardless of similarity or inspiration, i find the writing of this book gorgeous and heartbreaking and i think it scrapes at the human condition in a way that draws blood. gently. if you know what i mean.

i hope this was helpful! i constantly feel as if i don't read enough poetry so if anyone has any suggestions they want to give me. i am more than happy to hear them <3 happy reading everybody!

[hvbris]

@multipleoccupancy . Theo's family gets bigger

The Baudelaires had been in New York for a few days now, living in the house of their new guardian: Theodore Beneventi. New York reminded Violet of the town where she grew up, only bigger. Much, much bigger.

Mr. Beneventi, who had told them they could call him Theo, seemed like their most normal guardian so far. For starters, he was not afraid of turning on the stove, which was very nice, because it meant the Baudelaires could enjoy a warm meal for the first time in a few weeks. There were no snakes in the house either, which, to be fair, was to be expected. And of course, here, they were not ordered to do horribly long and difficult chores.

The other thing that differed from their last guardians, was that Theo already had a family. He had a wife, Andrea, two sons, and a baby daughter, who was already getting along great with Sunny.

Violet felt like their luck might have finally turned. Even the terrifying shadow of Count Olaf didn't seem as scary, considering that Theo was an FBI agent. She did not usually consider herself lucky, not since the terrible fire that had killed her parents, at least. But for the first time in months, she was feeling much more hopeful than usual.

And, it's with that noteworthy hopefulness that she left the room she shared with her siblings, and tip-toed to the kitchen. It was still early in the morning, but she was awake and craving a glass of milk.

"Good morning," she said politely when she saw that the kitchen area wasn't empty. Theo was already there. He was very nice, and she already felt comfortable around him, so she poured herself a glass of milk. "The view is very beautiful from here," she commented, not only to make conversation but also because it was true.

[the-dynamite-truck]

[Electra found his way over to a place where he could properly look over the racing tracks. For once she wasn't at the races to compete, no. They had heard about a dynamite truck that knew a thing or two about putting on a show and he was interested to say the least] [Although they heard some rumors about drama behind the scenes, but they didn't let that scare them off. At this point every place had some type of drama behind the scenes]

Let's see what you're made of

[She mumbled to herself her eyes focussed on the entrance to the race track]

~ @pluckdownthelightning

[There was nothing quite like the thrill of a good race, that Joule was sure of. The wind blowing through her hair as she sped down the track, over taking the other racers around them and elbowing them should they get too close, the roar of the crowd as she crossed the finish line; well simply nothing compared. They grinned as they swiftly entered the track, kicking up sparks as they skidded to a stop before the starting line (something which they had modified their wheels to do themself of course; in Joule’s eyes if you’re going to race you better be putting on a damn show).}

[Quickly scanning the crowd of spectators, they found their eyes being drawn to one stranger in particular, unable to ignore how sleek and shiny they appeared. For a moment the pair locked eyes and she couldn’t help but wink in the stranger’s direction, blowing them a kiss as they stepped up to the starting line. Though of course they couldn’t spend too much time focusing on this gorgeous stranger; after all she had a race to win. With everything their ex-racing partner had done to them, now more than ever losing wasn’t an option. A determined glint in their eye, she put on her race helmet and linked up with the engine in front of them.]

[In mere moments Joule and their engine were off speeding down the track; and with her guidance it wasn’t long until they had reached the front of the race crowd. Kicking up sparks around every corner they took, she was confident she was on their way to another stylish victory…]

[roseguided-arch]

@chaintrapped LIKED for a starter ! ft odelia kramer

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 do on her own. she could never fight hoffman one to one, he’s too strong for her. she would need someone else’s help, backup, & she knew of one person still living who could help. but, odelia would need to be sneaky—she couldn’t let hoffman know what she was doing or it would throw off the entire plan to save her mother. ( was it jill’s fault that her fathers last wish was to put his once trusted apprentice into a test of his own ? she was just doing what was asked of her, & odelia didn’t see that as grounds for murder. hoffman should know she would never let him murder her mother in revenge. ) ; sneaking into his office had been easy. she’s been able to scope out the security situation days before, to watch gordon on his late night visits to see what the code to get in was. now, sitting in his office chair she waits with black hood drawn over her shoulders only lit up by a lone desk light. choosing to be nice, odelia doesn’t snoop through his papers or belongings. then, the door opens & she speaks the second he closes the door: ❛ i’ve been waiting for you, doctor gordon. ❜ who she is should come as no shock to the doctor, given his work with her father. ❛ ya know, you really should change your security code. ❜ the young woman grins, meaning it as a light jab.

[bizzyboyfriends]

WYRM'S SHIPTASTIC DECEMBER: DAY TWO

Moxie X Sanji

Ship, as well as the S/i Moxie, belongs to @sanjiismystinkybaby

Felt like drawing people and hard to do poses today. I looked through your blog and your ship is just SO CUTE !!! Couldn't help myself!! and the fact you guys have been going for 10 YEARS?? That's amazing so I just HAD to draw you guys hehehe!!! Thank you for letting me do so and I hope you like it!! <3 <3

I'm still looking for people ships to draw, so if you're interested. Please take a look at this post!!