#need a sequel of just them

[paramores]

I miss you, okay? And I was like excited to see you. But like, great, whatever.

Shiva Baby (2020) dir. Emma Seligman

[yrsonpurpose]

He kisses Henry's knuckle, just below his ring. "I have some ideas."

[wybienova]

dream visit (nostalgia) - a 2nd anniversary katfl comic

[ganondoodle]

me: finally im able to cope with how much i hate totk and can fuel that energy into other things :)

nintendy: the shiekah tech just dissappeared and no one knows why or cares enough to investigate it lol. lmao. its gone bc the calamity is gone or something even tho it literally isnt bc ganondorf is right there haha lol, stop asking, why do you care. just forget it existed and look at that sexy goatman and glue instead!! glue! isnt that wild?? also its totally a direct, 100% same universe and exact same characters, despite them act totally out of character, sequel to botw-

[extravagav]

Yk I never did truly recover from the sick fic chapter

[moodlesmain]

Hi. Look at this.

I just spent two days straight making a digital conspiracy board trying to piece together my favourite genre that isn't really a genre and more just a very particular niche which doesn't really have a name.

If you want to look I reccomend downloading and zooming in on the image to read everything LMAO, I want to try and convert it to a page on my neocities at some point so its easier to view but for now you guys just get a big ol' jpeg. You're welcome :)

[star-trekster]

From @/thrawns-babygirl PNG Post prompt! Definitely putting these guys in situations!

[lovesickeros]

☆ from gold, i am undone

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, implied self harm, implied suicide attempts {☆} word count 0.9k

You weren't meant to be here.

You can feel it in the marrow of your bones– it weighs you down like heavy shackles, gold bleeding from your pores until it is all you know. The taste of ichor on your tongue, the warmth of its invasion beneath your skin, that gleam of gold that lingers in the color of your eyes like specks of dust.

You are changed, and you are whole.

But you are so unbearably broken.

A shattered piece of porcelain hastily put back together with gold to fill the cracks.

Decoration, in the end, for you are not fit to walk as "mortals" do. This gold had filled every empty crevice of your body, spilled the red into your frantic hands and made you bleed so it's callous gold could make room inside your body. It has taken from you many things, given many more, but you scratch and bite and tear until it drips onto the floor and even then it never leaves. It stains the floor no matter how hard you scrub– a permanent reminder of the sickening gold that molds you into something that used to look like you– that does look like you. Desecrated, yet so horribly divine.

All you see is a monster.

Something new, something old.

A hollowed out shell, wounds left to rot and fester until you suited the image of the Creator they bore upon statues and murals, the Creator worshiped in prayers spoken in hushed whispers and joyous chants praising your magnificence.

But what magnificence is there in detachment? What joy is there to be found in carving a God out of a human? They kneel like lambs before the shepherd, but the flock has made you– and you want to unmake them. Unweave the tapestry of their being stitch by stitch until it all falls apart and the world knows the cost of casting molten gold into the shape of a human, knows the price that has been left unpaid.

You want to take it from them. Watch them squabble and pray, blind sheep stepping into the wolf's open maw– to tear the seams of their being until the world is unwound by your heavy hands.

But you know it will not satisfy you.

Nothing does anymore.

You are no wolf. Only the shepherd who guides.

And with every drop of blood spilled, they ripped the humanity from your very bones until your body was the cast in which they made something anew– something gold, something horrific. A monster as much a God, a beast as much a man.

There is nothing left but absolute authority.

You try again and again to mend this act of desecration, to peel back the outer shell and rend the gold from your marrow– but your body cannot, will not, die. It mends itself back into place no matter how damaged, and all you feel is the uncomfortable tug of your body forcing itself to live. You cannot die, but were you ever truly alive at all?

Yet with every cycle, you know only one constant besides the thrum of golden ichor in your veins– cold.

Ice that burns, ice that spreads and festers and devours. Claws that pull you apart until the gold runs thick, teeth that burrow into your bones and rip it out from the source..eyes that witness the fall of a God with reverence– hungering, all consuming reverence.

You welcome it.

It is the first time you felt pain since you were cast into an image of a being you were not meant to be. The sting of cold upon your skin makes you shiver, your body tries to reject it, but you want to welcome it– for a brief moment that lasts only as long as it takes for you to blink, you see the glint of something familiar in the reflection of her empty eyes. Something achingly, horribly familiar– something human, all the more terrifying for it.

Even when Teyvat itself crumples like paper beneath the weight of her sins – of this desecration anew, this wretched heresy – you allow her hands to do it again. You grasp her hands in yours like chains, willing her to shackle you, willing her to pull you apart and make you whole again. To break you until the gold cannot put you back together again.

You long, each time, for those eyes like spears that lodge into your skin– burrow deep and sting deeper, making gold flow like water. You long for the biting tongue, the cutting words and those teeth like weapons– long to see the spite and anger and impure disgust aimed at the woman of silver who leads you down a hall that ends only in damnation. You follow each time like the lamb led astray by the wolf, but you do not wail in betrayal when she sinks her teeth into your throat and devours you whole.

For is it a sin if you welcome it? Has their God sinned, in the eyes of the flock, for welcoming such heresy with open arms? For allowing the wolf into their home?

Is it a sin to be broken beneath the only hands that have loved you?

Is it a sin to want to love, too, those hands and teeth stained in gold?

Then you shall be damned, you swear it. Damned, but gold no more.

For death is the closest you have ever felt to being human.

[dayurno]

Do you ever just think about how the headboard on Kevin's bed on the Nest doesn't budge. Of all the hints about what his life there was like that's the one that gets to me the most because it's so deliberate. Because even though he's probably physically stronger than Riko or at least evenly matched, Kevin wouldn't fight back. But he wasn't given the choice to anyway

honestly i think putting neil in kevin’s side of the room is such a telling choice during the castle evermore scenes. we spend so much of the first and second book hearing about how much kevin fears his so-called family, their haunting of the narrative as bloodthirsty hounds who can sniff out his fear, and when we actually get to finding out why that is we see it from someone who was immediately shoved into kevin’s old place. riko wasn’t just hurting neil because he wanted to (“i’m going to enjoy hurting you just as much as i enjoyed hurting kevin”), he was making sure neil knew he was inferior by putting him in direct contact with the roles kevin and jean played in the nest, using him as a substitute for the one that got away. neil gets a speedrun of some of the worst moments of kevin’s life, and he gets not a single breathing moment for it before he has to be shoved back into exy, like kevin was

i wouldn’t dare presume nora sakavic’s intentions on anything at this point, but i like the idea that neil’s stay at evermore was supposed to tell us all we needed to know about kevin’s time there, without kevin ever having to actually recount the years (he wouldn’t, even if he could): that it was horrifying, and that being in his shoes will never be as glamorous as neil previously thought. i like the breaking of neil’s expectations for kevin; i like how it makes neil realize the life kevin led was not better. and that’s the point, isn’t it? when neil is lying in kevin’s bed, handcuffed to kevin’s headboard, his legs pinned under kevin’s only friend, getting hurt by kevin’s brother, that’s what neil realizes: this is not better. it might be different than life on the run, but it is not better.

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

wait a minute.

the “darling” but was a slip/ad lib/ very well intended addition of mr. hardy, which they decided to keep in the movie so are you telling me that A) jgl didn’t even bat an eye when tom freaking hardy called him a darling ( I would’ve smiled and blushed so hard and ruined the entire scene) and B) decided, yes eames would call arthur darling two hundred percent and it would be a norm so im ?? just?? gonna ?? be?? in?? character?????

[palilious]

I fell in love again All things go, All things go

[mizodorito]

wanted 2 post these somewhere.. heres some murder drones gifs ive been making for a little while!!! some being requests while others were all just what i felt like making :3

[dfastback68]

Tried and failed to write yesterday but was successful today!! Finally started the goth fam sequel (yeah, not the prequel... oops) and also a short fic that's 99% finished at around 4k. It needs editing and polishing and then I'll try to post it in the next few days.

I just want my blorbos interact and was possessed by the sudden need for Perona and King to not only meet, but also braid each other's hair. I mean come on. It's the perfect activity for them. Plus, their captains have history!! I wanted to write something relatively light hearted anyways. So, here's a snippet:

__

“Moria complained all the time about your captain, you know,” she says, which gets his attention. He’s not keen on talking about Kaido much these days, but he supposes it can’t always be avoided. “That if not for him, he would have stayed in the New World. It was one stupid fight and he never shut up about it! Ugh, it was so annoying.”

“I was there,” Alber says without thinking. He does remember that fight, too, because Moria’s zombies had been a pain in the ass to put down. They were as susceptible to his fire as anything else, though. Kaido handled Moria himself.

“What?!” Perona drops his hair and braces her hands on his shoulder, leaning over to see his face. “Really? Moria was in his prime back then, I wish I could have seen it!”

“I was Kaido’s second from the very beginning,” he says, frowning. Back then. Had it really been that long ago, or is she just that young? “It was a fairly short fight. Moria didn’t belong in the New World, and we made sure he knew th - ach.”

Alber winces as Perona yanks a fistful of his hair.  “Don’t speak ill of Moria! How could you? After I’ve been so kind to you!”

As if she hasn’t complained about Moria several times already, and now she’s trying to exact some sort of transactional cost out of this activity again? He offers no apology, nor does she seem to expect one.

“Well,” she says with a sniff. She smooths her hands through his hair again, and picks up where she left off braiding. “If you hadn’t chased him out, he would have never found me, so. It’s alright, I guess.”

“Hm,” is all Alber says in response. It’s the closest he’ll get to an olive branch, but he’s never been above being petty. Perona is much nicer company than Queen, though, and if Mihawk allows her here, he needs to respect that, too.

“Hawkeyes told me to be nice to you if I ever ran into you,” she says, immediately undoing whatever goodwill had been extended just a moment ago.

[redroyalblues]

the same photo uno reversed 🔄

[rogue205]

Okay...

I'm going to be that person but am I seriously the only one who thinks that Quynh is not going to just suddenly forgive and forget ~500 years of torture by constant drowning, built-up rage and the resultant insanity/instability all because Andy cries and says she's sorry?

Because I don't think she would. However I see a LOT of that in the fandom.

I refuse to believe that Andy is going to die in the sequel so her and Quynh will eventually reconcile their relationship but it's just not going to happen in X number of minutes.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

me when i can’t decide between writing a fluffy achey teen satoru drabble or a kinda angsty hurt/comfort cult leader geto drabble or a sickeningly fluffy hurt/comfort stsg fic ……….. 😔😔😔