#ok sorry i’m shutting up now

[mappingthesky]

…can i say something

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

i am the number one supporter of tlovm. with one exception.

[erwinsvow]

i have this entire fleshed out shy reader lore for i guess a hypothetical universe where shy reader dated jj and/or pope first but eventually they broke up because of the whole season one treasure plotline not even because of a lack of love but mostly just her feeling neglected and alone. right at the end of all of that is when she would meet rafe just when he’s in that season two craziness/spiral and they become so insanely codependent and just around there somewhere when the pogues hate rafe even more they find out he’s dating shy reader and it’s just a whole other layer. so basically obx writers let me into the room.

[daboyau]

I got an idea when looking at this post by @tangledinink. I couldn’t rest until I’d jotted it down. The art possessed me like an evil spirit. warnings for body horror, vomiting, general fuckery. 💚

what probably happened directly before Leo found himself in this situation:

Leo: Fairies? No way those sparkly little assholes are real.

The fae who happened to be within earshot: and i took that personally.

Anyway, here we gooooo:

Leo opens his mouth to scream, but the sound won’t come out. He gags on the feeling of it catching inside his throat, and then again when the trapped scream begins to grow thorns. It scrapes its way up, and he claws desperately at his throat, trying to tear the feeling out, falling to his knees as he gags around the forced silence.

The threat of suffocation is enough to tear his attention, however briefly, away from the horror of what is happening to his shell. His body is changing itself on the urging of some other thing’s whims, and even though his nerves didn’t seem to get the memo that a dissolving shell (you know, the thing that most of his internal organs and, like, half of his bones need to stay inside his body?) should probably hurt a lot, he can still feel it.

He retches as the first flower falls from his lips. It hits the ground with a disgustingly wet sound, coated with bile and saliva. It shines wetly, rich orange hues standing out brightly against the black soil. The rest follow shortly after, a painful deluge of familiar colors, and he’s helpless to do anything but dig his fingers deep into the rich soil and try not to let the horrific impossibility of the situation drive him crazy. Tears flow freely, staining his cheeks before they fall to the ground below, greedily absorbed by the cursed earth of this place.

“Oh, dear,” a voice says, too close for him not to have noticed their presence. He tries to jerk back, but he can’t pull his fingers from the dirt. It hurts when he tries. A high pitched whine escapes his throat, but he’s too terrified to be embarrassed by that. The voice shushes him, soothes him, and warm fingers wrap tight around the back of his neck. They come to rest just above where the lip of his shell should be. He sobs at the way his back squirms as heat shoots down his spine and something begins to grow. The furred fingers drag like velvet against his scales as they squeeze, the sharp prick of claws threatening to break skin, and then release him just as suddenly. 

“So much sorrow and pain. And, oh, so many regrets,” the thing says as she circles him, humming a tune that makes his head pound in rhythm with his racing heart. His hands have sunk beneath the black soil, and it has begun licking greedily at his wrists as well. He can feel tendrils of something wet and cold winding themselves around his fingers, and he wants to scream again, but the bursts of bile-soaked colors decorating the ground keep him from opening his mouth. He can feel a petal still clinging to his bottom lip, and when the thing kneels before him, she reaches out to pluck it off, unbothered by the way he shrinks as far away from her touch as he can manage.

She slips it between her lips, and he catches a flash of a blackened tongue as it darts out to meet that single purple petal. Her teeth are sharp when she smiles at him. They hadn’t been sharp, when she’d first approached him in the Hidden City. Nothing about her had been.

In the dim lights of the underground world he and his brothers had only recently begun to explore, she had looked soft. He’d seen her approaching, and the first thought to flit through his head was, aw, bunny. A fluffy, rounded face. Big eyes, dark and deep as a still pond as they reflected the flickering neon of a sign in the shop window behind him. A pink nose had twitched when she’d smiled at him, sweet and kind, and asked him for his name. 

(What had he told her?)

Now, she would be unrecognizable, if not for the same strawberry patterned dress that drapes over her stretched out frame. He’d think to compare her to a hare now, but the hares he’d seen when watching Animal Planet with mikey had never looked like they would take delight in tearing his nails off one by one or plucking out his eyeballs. They had never made his vision swim or his body shake when he’d looked at them. Maybe she’s become more of a wolf.

The soil has reached his elbows. Those cool, slimy tendrils have circled his wrists like shackles. They’re squeezing tighter and tighter, and he feels his fingers throb and tingle as circulation is cut off. 

His mind flashes briefly to raph and how he used to tell them not to wear rubber bands on their wrists, convinced that their hands would fall right off if they got squeezed too tight. He wonders if the things that live beneath the dirt will steal what they’ve claimed, just like she’s stollen his shell. Another sound wants to bubble up his throat at the thought, and he lets it, because what use is a swordsman without his hands?

The hysterical giggles escape as big, iridescent bubbles. They glitter pink and blue and leave a bitter taste on his tongue. They only float a few feet into the air before they fall back to the ground, their attempt to flee the horror of this situation not getting too far at all. Soft green grass rises up from the dirt to catch them, but they do not pop. They rest, suspended on those tiny blades, for far longer than any bubble he’s ever blown before. He watches, transfixed, as his laughter is eventually swallowed by green. It begins to spread.

A hand cradles his chin, and his gaze jerks back to the thing that brought him here. She is watching him intently, eyes darting to take in every tiny change in his expression. She looks curious, in the same way that donnie does when he’s thinking about all the ways he can take something apart, and what he can do with those pieces to create something better. 

Her hand is soft where it touches him. She is gentle as she wipes a cloth across his mouth. It feels like water, soothing and cool, and he finds himself leaning into this tiny offer of comfort among the stomach churning violation of what is being done to him. His eyes flutter, and he distantly registers that the face she wears seems to swim before his eyes with each rapid blink, shifting back and forth between bunny and wolf and something other. She looks like she wants to devour him whole, no matter which face she wears.

From this close, he can see the way her eyes sparkle and dance when she smiles. He can’t help but think that maybe being swallowed whole wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, after all. 

The writhing shackles around his wrists tighten. 

She laughs, breathy and soft, and the sound is layered and beautiful like wind chimes. It conjures a hurricane inside his mind. Her cool breath gusts over his face. It smells like churned dirt and funeral flowers and pustulous rot. He doesn’t know if he wants to gag or breathe deeper. 

“Little blossom,” she croons, cupping both his cheeks, dragging their faces close. He doesn’t resist. She giggles, and she drags those soft hands and those sharp claws down his neck and over his shoulders, fingertips bumping against the disgustinghorriblewrongparasitetumor gathering of delicate buds that have sprouted up all across his back. She pinches one between the pads of her fingers, and he wants to screamcrybeghertostoppushherawaycutherdownandtearthemalloutbytheroots be good for her.

“Little blossom,” she says again, and those dark eyes catch his gaze and hold it as a heavy feeling settles against his skin, across his shoulders, around his neck, and he can’t look away no matter how desperately he tries. But he doesn’t want to try. Her smile stretches wider, wider, and for one brief flicker of a second he can see blood on her teeth as she asks, “Do you believe now?”

.

(Side note just for fun. The flowers that appear in this but aren’t actually described or named are:

Orange marigold, for grief and despair

Purple hyacinth, for sorrow and asking for forgiveness

Red cyclamen, for goodbye and resignation

Yellow zinnia, for missing a friend and remembrance

Bluebells, for gratitude and everlasting love 

[hana-bobo-finch]

Yknow what it’s time to be completely honest. It’s hot take time. I hate Russ so much. He’s the worst rescue corps member and when I’m not forgetting he exists he makes me so mad. He’s such an overcontrolling prick but it’s not like how dingo’s a prick (like with dingo it’s very obvious he’s meant to be annoying and condescending, it clearly stems from insecurity, he still obviously cares about other people and most of the time he’s just putting up a cool guy facade). Yonny’s eheheheh is like music to my ears even though it’s just text on a screen but Russ’s stupid little KEE HEE is like nails on a chalkboard. All he ever talks about is his inventions and how you should totally get them and blah blah blah. And he’s always like “efficiency this efficiency that I’m busy what do you want” shut up bro!!! Please!!! He’s a nepo baby and I want to smack him every time I see him. His family is what you’d expect from a bunch of rich freaks (shepherd mentioned that they randomly threw a goodbye party for Russ and made her hold their coats at the door??). The fact that people think Collin is annoying or dingo is rude or yonny is uncaring or etc etc etc when Russ is RIGHT THERE is so infuriating, he is all of those traits wrapped up into a hideous little creature. People say that the rescue corps don’t have much personality which is true to an extent, i don’t fully agree but nonetheless Russ is the most cardboard cutout of all cardboard cutouts. Where is the personality?? Yonny’s a sweetheart who’s maybe a lil bit crazy but it’s for a good cause, dingo’s just a whole mess of undiagnosed anxiety and chronic-gym-bro personality, bernard has that whole history with santi and he talks like THIS, I don’t need to defend shepherd because if you just talk with her on base or read her logs you know she has personality, Collin is such a caring lil guy who’s constantly tired and did a bunch of weird jobs to pay for college, then there’s Russ the nepo baby who I want to slap. I guess he does have a bit of a personality but every aspect of it is annoying. Idc how many people disagree I am speaking my truth. I would hug every rescue corps member except for Russ. I would slap his stupid bald head

[phantombitemark]

I’m obsessed

[jackobbit]

Fellas we’ve officially hit that point /lh

I called my mama because I was upset over something, after talking it out she encouraged me to ‘go do something fun’ because the situation really couldn’t be helped so I might as well move on and cheer myself up.

Her suggestion? “Go play with Sun and Moon.”

She was referring to my plushies but the fact that she SAID THAT??

I’m officially at a point in the fixation where my MOTHER, who knows nothing about video games or fandom or anything like that, is able to recognize that shoving these two celestial themed robo twinks in my face is going to make me happy. And that’s insane to me.

“Here kiddo, go play with your jester animatronics you’ll feel better.” And she’s RIGHT. GOD.

[bonsaibudz]

second date went very very well (with maybe the exception that he's starting to be a little *too* frat boy for her..) with a teeny tiny surprise below the cut that explains pic 2

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um so a little secret random genuinely unexpected hookup maybe occurred while she was out on the date.. don't look at me i didn't do anything i absolutely made all the decisions :)

[whumpy-wyrms]

yk i was having trouble writing tllr chapter 12 because Dew is sick with a fever in the beginning and i just,, idk felt uninspired or something because im not the biggest fan of sickfics or whatever

well now i’m sick with a fever and it’s helll so sorry Dew im gonna have to put you through this now my bad 👍👍 at least i am now inspired

if this post makes no sense it’s because my brain hurts and i’m tired 👍👍👍

[zombvibes]

*RATTLES MY CAGE* I FUCKING LOVE KRUSIE

[evilyn-is-gay]

Me because some of my favorite SAMS creators have the most incorrect opinions (I hate the characters they’re defending):

[prozach27]

.

[randomartblogowo]

Ima be honest here, I like stroll

[puppyeared]

he’s ok guys (frm here <3)

[alaskan-wallflower]

can y’all drop some calming music recommendations i need to make a playlist 😭

[howldean]

i’m so fucking pissed rn