#oh and did i forget to mention-

[mooni]

lazy dsmp rp doodles i did a lil bit ago (mauve and chi-chi are not my ocs. those belong to two other lovely people. silly fae (al) is mine, though). ranboo one was easily my favorite just look at em

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[imdoingjustgr8]

generic lowishbutkindadidtakeastupidamountof-effort meme bandwagoning post

[sleep-deprived-luka]

Gog au niigo for tonights doodle

[elise-the-potato]

A girl in class called me cute today I'M GONNA IMPLODE. WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW JOYOUS AND WHIMSICAL I FELT. GETTING COMPLIMENTS FROM GIRLS HIT DIFFERENT

[galaxygermdraws]

so instead of get back into art after the basic recovery of my surgery, I instead replayed Mario and Luigi Partners in Time…and why does nobody talk about this game?? Hardly ever see it in the Super Mario tag. Like. It’s actually insane how dark it gets. People die. Like actually die. Not as dark as SPM but like we see the dead spirits of Toads get siphoned through tubes. They had their life force sucked out of them via genetically modified trees. Yoshis were eaten by a larger alien Yoshi and were gonna be turned into more alien Yoshis via a factory IN THE GIANT ALIEN YOSHI. We see a town that’s literally just “Christmas is Cancelled” the city. Their mayor probably died. We never see these places restored because there are no survivors to restore them. The citizens of Hollijolli village probably all died by the time the bros shut down the Vim factory. And also there’s the entire scene with the Star Gate. Like. Hello??

maybe I’ll stream or let’s play this game and share it here because I think. More ppl should talk about Partners in Time. I’ll say it too: I like it more than Bowser’s Inside Story. By like a LOT. That’s my ramble for the night. Ttyd day tomorrow. Yippee

[teathattast]

Hands are moving closer

Arms around my shoulder

Don't want to cross the line where the mystery fades

Falling for a stranger

Strangers in to lovers

Then before you know it we're comfortable, what then?

I don't wanna know the end

But I feel like diving in

Oh I don't know how to stop

I feel it in me and I never wanna not

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

[i3utterflyeffect]

in human sticks au, after the vic earring incident alan gives the hollowheads the rundown on how to (safely) take earrings in and out (maybe disclosing that there's different styles too). all this to say here's what i think they'd wear:

vic: no earrings, they took the other cursor one out as soon as they could and no one ever saw it again. alan kept the one they ripped out (after cleaning it).

chosen: unsure about the earrings thing but dark keeps trying to encourage them to try sonething different so maybe they will? probably would settle on some plain studs.

dark: look they may not like being human but i feel like they'd learn about the different kinds of cool earrings and need to be physically restrained from going to a piercing parlor. probably finds some cool spider ones and falls in love.

sc: xe just like to wear the cursor ones :). reminds fae of faer dad! (when alan hears zem say that he swears his heart melts)

YEAGH.... YOU GET IT. YOU UNDERSTAND

[leonardcohenofficial]

when i seriously engaged w dw i was a big ol rose girl (and so love her very deeply even still) but your recent answer so neatly crystallized here why martha/s3 was some of the (modern) show’s best AND worst writing. the fans were def unkind and racist bc she was Not Rose ™ and Black, but the show (and occasionally the doctor himself) literally also did the same thing. in better hands, the tenmartha emotional arc could have been an incredibly powerful exploration of the doctor’s capability for ‘human’ manipulation because of his more or less constant rolling thru a rotating cast of (usually young) beautiful creatures who often, at least somewhat, worship his alien inhumanity and he’ll outlive - made all the more powerful by martha recognizing it and Getting The Fuck Out tbh. like make no mistake i love the doctor but he can be so terrible about keeping companions at arms length while also clinging and never letting go of them

literally exactly precisely thissssss; the doctor is not (and never was) all good; he has messy deeply contradictory flaws that show up in both his broader sense of morality/what he considers right and wrong/what risks he chooses to take/what he's willing to sacrifice or put in harm's way in order to to have what he believes to be the moral high ground AND the way he interacts one on one with people ESPECIALLY his companions. i think so much of the tenmartha dynamic is genuinely really fascinating (and drives me mildly crazy) but so often when the doctor is manipulating martha, the narrative punishes her in a way that i think is neither due nor deserved. i say this not because i think that the doctor's "bad" behavior needs to be punished narratively in some sort of puritanical way—characters should be complicated and have issues that are interesting to look at in analysis—but martha as the person receiving all of that shit shouldn't have had to endure it for a full season seemingly without end. the fact that she got out really feels so important to me because very few other companions get that type of ending and the will-they-won't-they of it ends in a way that feels very decisive; martha traveled with the doctor and loved him deeply and realized she can and would be fine without him and when he wanted to cling on tighter she prioritized herself and left him. it's a choice that very few people who know the doctor on that level, having seen the very best and very worse of who he is and what he's capable of, get to make and i think that it's extremely significant that it's martha who's allowed to make that decision.

[soup-scope]

ok with aaron being brought into the mess of the balance

does that mean we’re finally maybe gonna get elliot and aaron grouping up with the wolf boys (asher and milo) to take on closeknit 🙏🙏

[dootplusone]

(OG post has Reblogs turned off. You can find it here!)

(OG post has Reblogs turned off. You can find it here!)

(If the OP would prefer this post not link back to the OG post or is otherwise is not okay w/ this post in reference to theirs, please let me know in some form so I can delete/edit it as needed.)

Thinking. Abt this but with Bones. Like. Post-Tholian Web? Post-Mirror Mirror?

For AOS, could be after Into Darkness and/or Beyond.

A Bones who's just. So anxious. So stressed. So overwhelmed that it starts taking a toll on his health. Maybe he doesn't even realise - or maybe he does and tries his best to push through it until it knocks him on his ass. Kind of in the vein of "You don't actually know how tired you are until you stop. And then you just physically cannot start again." It becomes his new baseline, a problem that just brews and storms in the distance.

And he just carries on. And keeps going and going and going until one day he realises that 'Oh fuck, I'm not okay' and has about 5 seconds of warning before he straight up collapses, doesn't matter if it's on the bridge, in the madbay, on a planet - he's going down. (Maybe a repeat of Tholian Web where he just straight up faints into Spock's arms? Full whammy, why not)

Maybe it's a high-tension situation getting resolved that does it. The pure relief of it reminds him of how tired he is. How tired he's been for a while. His body sees that momentary rest and goes "More of that, please. And I'm not asking."

And he's so rendered by it that he doesn't grumble about being coddled like he normally would when he wakes up. He knows not to fuck with the medbay staff - they're just as firm as he is on recovery, and that's not by accident - and he knows that Spock and Kirk will be hovering, because they see any problem as something they, too, should shoulder the burden of.

...And because they're some of the most protective people in the damned universe. And that goes for pretty much all the people on board the Enterprise.

In some scenarios, it's just a case of letting his body and mind rest properly. In others, there's a lot more recovery involved than anyone initially expects. Luckily for him, he has a found family who are determined to be there with him at every step. It just takes a couple reminders, every once in a while.

[tiktaaliker]

ok actually it kinda sucks that veilguard only lets you input veryyyy basic shit about events of dragon age inquisition (ie you can edit the inquisitor, choose who you romanced, and choose what happened to the inquisition itself at the end of the dlc). fucking EXTREME downgrade. like are we just going to pretend that the first and second games dont exist. just like. mannnn in inquisition i thought it was SO cool that you could ask varric about hawke and he would talk about My Hawke and My Choices. and then theres just random moments in both 2 and inquisition where something happens and you realize OH SHIT THATS BECAUSE OF A CHOICE I MADE IN THE PREVIOUS GAME!!!! like werewolves showing up in a quest in 2 because i helped the werewolves in origins! AND WHAT ABOUT KIERAN!!!!!!! i was wondering how veilguard was going to handle kieran and so far it looks like the answer is not at all

[hnyibee]

wonder how priest feels knowing she has some of the coolest women ever in her character roster

[42ds-too]

There was a post with a dress and a cardigan and the dress was very similar to this one... I know because that's why I added this to my wishlist, but now I can't find the actual post to recreate. I feel like it was in conversation with @wantonhousewife @twat-wanton-housewife (whoever you are now, lol) and @avishabilis

Regardless, I came home Sunday and unloaded s bunch of stuff from the car, only to come back out and find this sitting on my doorstep.

These pics were just some quick shots from the thank you for the sender... I'm looking forward to really dressing this up and taking some lovely (and obviously some naughty) pics for them... And probably for y'all, too. 😇

Thank you, dear friend for the wonderful birthday gift!!!

[yantao-enthusiast]

can some fucking people stop being to celebrities like “oh this person is either gay or queerbaiting because their personality is making me interpret them as queer because they act ‘stereotypically’ gay and that if you act like this you have to be queer. so we’re gonna either force this person to come out via peer pressure when they may not want to or be ready to or bully them for acting a certain way if they’re not queer because that’s the only way i can accept these people acting this way.” it’s really fucked up, based on toxic patriarchal values, and plain homophobic. analyze these parts about yourself and put a stop to it. it’s not funny. it’s not doing the lgbtq community a favor. it’s an asshole thing to do and you better be leaving that shit in 2023.