#okay now that’s some funny stuff right there

[marbofmoorock]

Would love to see Kinger and Queenie, as well as Zooble and Caine drawn in this AU TOO. PLEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN! Fantasy Winter Wonderland, so perfectly in season. Maybe Caine and Zooble could have a dynamic of some kind, where Caine could be like Zooble's caring Uncle who wears goofy sweaters and tells funny stories about from his imagination about a fictional life in the circus as a ringmaster (he's a chatterbox beause his head is a mouth, lol), and Zooble is like an angsty college student caught in a feud betweenn divorced parents, moving in with her uncle to get away from all of the mess.

I'm gonna make a short story of it, would love to see accompanying art!!!

-----

Cainooble: A Winter Wonderland Special!

It was a wonderful Winter Wonderland of a day, Christmas had just passed, and everyone was out playing in the snow to enjoy the winter days before the new year. Pomni and Gummigoo laugh and play out in the snow on Gummigoo's new sled his parents got him for Christmas. Gangle watches them timidly as a sort of happy third wheel to their group, wearing a kimono and a fluffy coat as well to stay warm, preferring to watch them play. Ragatha and Jax share a hot cocoa in a nearby house as siblings, chatting away about what they loved most. Kinger and Queeenie in another house enjoy some quiet time together, with a few friends over, including Dobby Dog, Orbsman, and many others.

Then there's Zooble, frustrated 20 something, having just quit he4 job due to transferring colleges, unable to stay at her local college due to how much her parents fought. Zooble was so done with their fighting as an only child, she literally was having trouble with her identity, looking for support and help, but they're too distracted with yelling at each other over such silly things like money. She decided to put her foot down and move to the University in the next town, packing up her stuff to go live with Uncle Caine, his father's brother whom was usually fun to be around and actually cared about Zooble.

She drove up the somewhat icy road carefully, and found herself pulling up to Uncle Caine's nice house. He was A Bachelor who never married, so he had lots of room in his big house for hus precious niece! Zooble, while slightly disgruntled over all of what happened at home with mom and dad, was slightly relieved at seeing Uncle Caine's house.

Not too long after she carefully parked the car in the driveway, Caine came out of the house in a coat.

"HEY HEEEEEY, THERE'S MY FAVORITE NIECE!"

Zooble, seeing Caine, smiled weakly, happy to see Caine after all that she'd been through leaving the house to come live here.

"Thank you do much Uncle Caine. Mom and Dad haven't been their best lately."

"DON'T YOU WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD, YOU'LL HAVE A FRESH START HERE IN MULBERRY. It's the quietest town in Minnesota, and it's SUCH A MIRACLE you didn't skid off the roads, they're quite icy here.

They both hugged it out for a moment in the cold, Zooble felt like crying because she was so grateful to her uncle Caine. Caine noticed she's clinging to him as they hug and holds her close as well.

"It'll be okay, Zoobie, it'll be like your last visit, but LONGER! THAT'S RIGHT, YOU GET TO STAAAAAY HEEEEERE, FOR AS LONG AS YOU'D LIKE. WE'RE FAMILY AFTER ALL. Go on in, there's hot Cooa in the Kitchen, I'll get your bags! Oh, and feel free to just call me Caine, I think you're old enough to just call me by my first name now, haha!"

Zooble nods silently, her smiling expression more present as she's happy that her Uncle took her in.

Inside, she sips her hot cocoa, and Caine comes in shortly after, with most of her bags, of which he gets the rest in a second trip.

Then he joins Zooble for some hot cocoa once he's fully back inside with Zooble's luggage altogether by the door.

"So Zoobie, what do yoy think of Mulberry? It's so lovely here, no?

"Yeah, it's pretty great Caine, I'm gonna like it here."

"I'm sooo delighted to hear that! It's so nice here Zoobie, you'll love plenty of people your age here, and the college is small and cozy. Mulberry U was my alma mater. Aaah, seems like yesterday when I walked out with my Communications degree! The TV station has been a nice job for me, telling everyone about the weather is certainly a real job, but as Mark Twain once said, make your vocation your vacation, and all will be will, hahahaaa!"

Zooble smiles, happy to see her uncle in such good spirits.

They chat the rest of the night and Zooble gets a good night's rest. As she goes on, she adjusts to her new life Mulberry, and becomes friends with Pomni, Gangle, and Ragatha.

The end.

Knock knock! Guess who's online again! 🥂

For now, check out the sketches of the characters in the form of teenagers / children + bonus ( AIS AU ⛸️❄)

+bonus (I drew the art a long time ago, but decided to show it only now)

Unfortunately, I was away for a long time due to personal problems. The beginning of the year turned out to be difficult.

I was COMPLETELY deprived of the opportunity to draw on a graphics tablet.I also had to move in with my dad after a fight with my mom. Now I'm drawing on my phone in the Ibis Paint X app with my finger, which is unusual for me.

However, there is some good news! It's my birthday next month, and my dad promised to give me an iPad! (I've never used it before.)

Therefore, I will temporarily post less art on Tumblr.(sorry)

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 12

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Next chapter switches to Explicit)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,652 of 32,210

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

"What happened?" he asks, pulling me to my feet. "What's wrong?"

My legs shake and I try to catch my breath, feeling my nails weakly trying to grip the tweed of his jacket. "It's the conductor," I say. "Not the same guy."

The Wizard exhales a laugh at this. "Yes," he says. "We've been changing out conductors at every stop. Did you think it was the same man shoveling coal for the past three days?"

"N-No... but-"

"Look," he says, "why don't you get some rest? You’re tired from- What were you doing? Running?” He gives me a funny look as he tries to rearrange my wind-swept hair. “We've got a ways until we get to Rouncible."

The words he's saying seem right, but there's just something I can't shake about the conductor. I don't say anything as he takes my hand. I glance back at the Frottica station passing by as he helps me up the steps and back into the living compartment.

"I know that this week has been stressful and all, but I really need you to keep it together." He wraps the woolen blanket from the first night around me and guides me to sit in one of the chairs. "The cold can do funny things to the brain. You're... uh... It's going to be alright, okay?"

I nod my head once, staring out the window as we pick up a good and decent speed. Maybe now was the time to get religious. Maybe if I prayed hard enough then this whole war would be over and I would be free to go. A divine intervention.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I snapped at you," he says.

"S'okay," I say, staring out the window. A light snow has started to fall, adding to the already heaping piles of the stuff that corridor the rail.

"We still haven't heard from Morrible, and she might be able to convince the Lord-Mayor to talk some sense into Thropp. That letter, it was only the first from days ago."

"Can you-" I stop, hesitating to ask. "Can we just sit together?"

To that, he doesn't say anything. The matching chair is dragged back over from the bedside. He sits down in it, holding my hand as I watch the snow fall, every flake a silent prayer that I would be able to see Fileah alive again.

______________________________________________

The light snow has turned to pellets of ice, giving the illusion that the roof of the train is being pelted with handfuls of rice. It’s been two, maybe three hours, and the sun has begun to paint the horizon in bruising shades of purple and indigo. The Wizard's hand is still in mine, keeping true to my request, even if I'm not really present. My gaze has been fixed on the pines that start as dark green blots of ink when they appear along the brass edge of the window, only to grow great and monstrous in size. It's the only place I can look. There was no way back, and the sooner I accepted my fate, the sooner I could plan my next move. Maybe there would be someone at the war council who pitied me enough to smuggle me back.

I've come to accept that my brain concocted the fear of the conductor as a way to stop me from leaving him. As we sit in silence, free from any pressure of time, I can see how ridiculous the idea is. The Wizard doesn't need someone to look after him. He is the Wizard of Oz, a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself, capable of governing our great land even. I don't need him, and he doesn't need me. The next time I get the chance to get away, I won't hesitate.

I watch as the trees start to curve, cutting off the white path ahead. My free hand grips the wooden chair arm as I anticipate the slowdown that will lurch me. There wasn't always a warning – when I had spent that day out in the hallway I had taken to always having a free hand on the railing, especially with my nose in my book – but when there was, it was nice to know so I could stabilize myself. I wait, watching as the trees draw closer, but the slowdown doesn't come.

"Hey," I say, shaking the Wizard's hand. He had fallen asleep with the gentle rocking of the train but still managed to keep his hand in mine. "Hey!" I shake his shoulder.

He sputters to life, looking around. "Hmm? What? What’s going on?"

I say, "Something's wrong."

"Not the conductor business again. I told you-"

"No," I cut him off, "it's not that. The train. It's going too fast."

"Well the train is going to go fast," he replies. "That's what trains do."

I push up from my seat, pointing to the window. "No... No, look at the curve." The tree cutoff is even closer now.

The Wizard blinks sleepily as he cranes himself to get a better look. "I don't-"

A panic seizes me and I can feel my heart beat through every joint in my body as I pull him from the chair. "We need to- We need to-"

He must finally see the curve coming closer and closer, feel the way the train is not halting, because his muscles become taut under my grip. "It's not slowing," he mumbles.

I pull him one last time and this time, he comes away from the chair without effort. Our bodies tangle as we head for the exit, limbs both reaching for the door. He hugs me to his side, pressing my limbs against him as he throws open the door to the hallway.

"Something was wrong," he says. "You were right... God, you were right."

I slap my hands against his chest as he's carrying me down to the hallway. "Stop! We can't just go out there with no coats."

"Doll," he interrupts, "now is not the time to be worrying about co-"

I push out of his grasp, flying back into the living compartment to grab our coats. The thick wools in hand, he yanks me back out into the hallway and drags me down to the entrance steps. He throws open the door to the outside and the howling wind becomes deafening. The ice pellets that had sounded so gentle on the roof of the car are now flying past in a blinding wall of glass, the glitter of the snow along the tracks a deadly glimmer of shards that does not slow.

"We're-" the Wizard swallows, "We're going to have to jump."

I am doing nothing more than standing, but my heart can’t tell. "On the count of three," I squeak.

"One, two." I can't finish it.

"Three," he says.

We jump from the train in a dive and my stomach drops for the brief moment that we're flying from the car. The icy ground knocks the wind from me as we roll in the snow, tumbling to a stop. Everything hurts, and I can hear the Wizard groaning in pain. I try my best to push myself up, but yelp as my right wrist recoils from the blinding agony. Quickly, I'm cradling the injury to my chest.

"We have to-" I cough, surely drowned out by the thundering of the wheels. I try again, shouting as loud as my breathless lungs will allow me, "We have to get out of here!"

The train is still careening forward. I don’t want to be around when the wrought iron time bomb derailed and exploded.

"No-" the Wizard says, clutching his woolen coat to his chest. "Just five minutes, alright?"

I test my other arm, and satisfied with no pain, I push myself up. He's wallowing in the snow, swooped hair laden with wetness and fresh flake, eyes screwed shut in denial. I grab hold of him with my good arm, trying to ignore how the snow was already soaking into my clothes.

"Get up," I grit. "Come on, you can't just give up and die now. Get up."

"No-" the Wizard groans. "No this isn't such a bad way to go." The sun is now fully below the horizon and I know if we don't put as much distance between us and the train as possible, if it doesn't kill us, the lack of shelter will, and that will be impossible to find in the darkness.

I drop his arm and slap him across the face. That causes him to open his eyes. "It's not just you out here, asshole," I croak. My vocal cords are fried from the attempted screaming. "I'm not going to let you fucking die. Now, come on." I fall to the side of him, tugging his arm to at least get him onto his side.

The train is at the curve now, and my eyes cannot be torn away from the horror that unfolds. The terrible iron beast is jerked easily off of the track, like it were a toy in the hands of a child, sliding on its side as it twists and tumbles and turns. BANG! The sound is deafening, cracking through my bones and making me slam my sore wrist against my ear as a hundred yards away the locomotive explodes in a terrible bubbling cloud of fire infected with black vines of smoke. Parts of the engine sail sky-high as they are shot from the wreck like fireworks. My eyes trace the trajectory of one particularly misshapen piece.

"Move!" I scream, scrambling to my feet to drag the Wizard backward. I can’t drag him more than a few feet, but it's enough for the scrap of metal to miss him by inches. His chest rises and falls as he claws at my arm, scrambling to his feet away from the burning metal.

We stand there for only a moment, watching as the great roaring fire consumes what remains of the train we had occupied together for the last three days. I don't say anything, simply heading off to where I think south-east is. There was a cabin back that way I had spotted while I stared out the window not five minutes earlier, trying to forget that I had gone back for a man who didn't need saving.

___________________________________________________

The sun has fully set by now, a high and white moon rising in its place, lending a ghostly jade glow to all of the trees. We stop every few minutes as our boots fall through the powdery mix shielded by a thin crust of ice, the cold making even the easiest task of walking utterly exhausting.

I stay beside him, not trusting him to not give up and collapse back into the snow again. If I could, I would shoulder him, but both of our arms are gripped so tight to our bodies, trying to keep what little heat remains in us as the cold sucks the warmth from our faces and causes our noses to run.

It's when I'm ready to give up and let the icy mountain air steal the last of my warmth that I spy the house. It would be generous to call it a house, the moonbeams picking out the old and weathered boards that make up the shack. It can't be more than one room. I couldn't care less, letting myself bolt for it. Anything to get some kind of warmth back into me.

The Wizard calls out to me, but I ignore him. I'm sure he's worried that I'll trip and fall. If I do, I'll just drag myself to the house with the one good hand I have left. The front door is twenty feet away when I hear the growl that turns into a half-human yell. I turn to see the wild cat, his fur a shaggy sand that blended in well enough with the snow that you might miss the black tufts on his ears or the marigold eyes that are now trained on me. He must have been watching us from the thicket of trees to the left.

"Bleeding," he growls. "So far away and bleeding." An Animal, I think.

"Please," I breathe, trying to catch my breath in the thin air. "You don't want to eat me." I slowly walk backward, hoping that I'll get to the cabin and I can then shut the door on him. My eyes, flick to the Wizard and he's too far away. There's no way he'll make it to the cabin before the wild cat gets me.

"Not much to eat up here," he growls. "You, your friend..." He's struggling to form the words and I wonder how long he's been away from humans and society. "Food... month..."

"I can get you food," I say, backing up further. The lynx steps forward with each step I take back. The Wizard is closer, but not close enough. "You could feast like a king."

"Haven't eaten in days," he says. "Better to eat now..."

My legs hit the porch and I tumble, falling onto the rickety structure. The snow is so cold that it burns my hands as I crawl backward, belly up and ripe to be ripped open. I just need to get to the door. The Animal's shoulders are thrown up now, limbs bent and ready to pounce.

"Please," I whisper, knowing that it will do nothing. Maybe it is a prayer to Lurline that my death will be quick and painless under her watchful eye.

The animal yells and leaps but the blood-curdling scream is cut off by an explosion. The lynx tumbles to the side as if a supernatural entity had smacked it away. For a moment, I think Lurline has answered my prayers, and then I see the Wizard draw closer.

He is staggering in the snow, arm outstretched to the animal. The moonlight glints off something in his palm. It's shiny and silver and there is smoke rising from it. I'm not sure what to make of it as I watch the lynx attempt to rise from the snow bank it had been flung into. A second crack of thunder echoes through the valley and the lynx slumps. Blood melts the lifeless snow around him, staining it red with life.

Puffs of steam obscure the horror and I realize just how hard I had been breathing, the wool lapels of my coat rising and falling quickly like billows. I scramble to my feet, throwing myself against the side of the cabin. I want to scream, but I don't know why; the danger is gone. Tears are already wetting my cheeks as I realize how close I was to having my guts spilled into the snow.

The Wizard finally catches up to me, climbing the snow-covered steps to the porch. He's out of breath as he cups my face in his hands. "Are you alright? It didn't get you, did it?" he asks.

"Y-You." My teeth are clacking together, the cold thoroughly ravaging me. "You saved my life."

There are tears in his eyes as he brushes a thumb against my wet cheek. "Yes," his voice breaks. "Of course..." There is nothing else to say. No words can express the sentiment as he presses his lips to my forehead. A kiss, a promise of protection.

As he pulls away I can feel all of the layers of ice I had built up against him, the ideas I had told myself over and over to try and force them to be my reality, shatter and crack. He has nothing to say about saving my life because it has always been a given, even in the ballroom when he took my hand to run and took me on the train with him.

I stand there in the silence of the snow and moonlight and kiss him.

[writerfae]

Okay so originally Henry was indeed Milan’s son, right? Now imagine Cameron would’ve noticed Ranva being pregnant.

Cameron: uh? How did this happen?

Ranva: i don’t have to explain to you how this stuff works, right?

Cameron: no, I am very well aware of that. But as far as I can remember we did not do that. You know, the thing

Ranva: uh yeah we did? Wedding night, remember?

Cameron: yeah? That was a year ago? Not that I’m an expert, but that’s not how long babies-

Ranva: maybe he just needs some more time?

Cameron: …that’s a thing?

Okay maybe not this but she’d maybe gaslight him into thinking he’s the baby daddy. I think that would be funny, though logically she’s probably keep it a secret from him still.

[misanthrapologist]

okay I have some stuff I wanna spout about nowhere and ivan himself now having the official lyrics and various translations. someone please listen to my ramblings.

starting off this song is clearly about him and his struggles about himself and his whole life. we see this overall from the lyrics and of course the cover.

if black sorrow was hopeless then this is beyond hopeless. the "this/that always happens to me" is just a clear sign right off the bat about this along with the "it's so typical, typical to me" it's it's obvious just how used to always being in these awful situations he is "that's just how it is" and how it'll always be, how it'll end "it's stained with blood" (can he stop that man you just jinxed your own pretty much suicide) he's always expected a death that's obviously not going to be that normal or say "happy" for lack of me thinking of a better word of a death, but it's okay, he's content with that cause it's what would've always happened no matter what. it's always how everything goes for him. fate sealed to an awful end from the beginning of his life.

the dream and hope slowly going from rose to purple to black once again shows this hope slipping away never to be fully back again no matter what. even if for a second he gains a bit of hope back, it's pointless. it'll always end wrong and it's back to his usual life. "wake up, wake up in my overwhelming daily/beautiful life. is it for real? an existence like dust, I can't stand to look at it, close my eyes and my mind" he's clearly unhappy with his life (to a point) and himself, preffering to look away, ignore it and forget as much as he can as to not stress about it anymore than necessary. it's easier that way rather than facing it or communicating about it at all. and we know how he is when it comes to all that. he's shit at it and doesn't know how to really do it so obviously that's what he does. the "is it for real?" is honestly kind of funny tbh. yet so meaningful. in a way it could mean that it's hard to believe what's happening and that it's better than anything he ever had in the slums or in general. maybe a feeling of unworthiness of these things in regards to the "beautiful life" line, since although not the best, again, better than anything he could've ever wished for. or maybe something else.

we already knew he does not like himself and is truthfully not confident. he certainly.attempts to be as we see from the act/personality he puts on but even then he ends it off with a way to slightly jab at himself as we see in his interview where when asked about his charm he says he has more flaws and his looks being "quite average". along with a mention about his teeth or rather tooth. here I'd like to mention the line "with that revolting tooth"/"with these disgusting teeth" this stuck out to me since it's very obviously him once again hating on himself. it's clearly a part many like/mention about him a lot. but it's him, who he is and of course he hates it. the constant descriptions of him from the team and himself being that he's "twisted" and variations of that further show just how deep this hatred goes. this feeling of abnormality and wrongness. the feeling you're so vastly different from everyone and needing to learn how to be normal and like the others in order to fit in and be liked. an act. one he's put up his whole life nearly down to his death before he does everything at the end of round 6. even in official arts of him being genuine in canon we don't see much except strong distress. which is so utterly fitting to how he thinks and is. of course he's distressed whenever he's alone and himself, putting on an act so different from himself pretty much all day every day of your life really takes that kind of toll on you. I don't blame him for looking so pissed off when he's alone it's stressful pretending to be someone who you're not, someone who you had to learn to be to survive, someone who you were forced to perfect to the best of your abilities to be likeable in some way, someone who may as well be their own separate person at that point. (I could go on and on but I have so much else to talk about my bad.)

"this painful wound that keeps getting worse, I become more and more numb to it" says a lot and could be referring to many different things. but why not everything? I see it as this reffering once again to his life as a whole and way of living as an act. after so many years, you get used to this the more you do it and the more things happen.

"In the dark city lights I can't find anyone, anyone, anyone" this could mean a variety of things really. having no one to truly relate to as a metaphor of sorts or just being alone in the past in the slums or both even. a lot if not most of these lyrics as seen tie back to the way he lives and thinks about himself, further making me believe this song truly is just a better, even clearer look at his true self.

now with lyrics I thought had one meaning even before the official release that just become less of a reach on my end that I'll talk about more broken up. "that's just the kind of kid he is, so laugh, laugh because he can't do anything" this one I immediately think about his issue about not presenting and being like everyone else having to learn to be "human" in a sense. (along with his again self deprecation being the one writing these and singing them) "can't do anything" makes me believe this even more since he didn't really know how to express anything considered human before being taught how to or being forced to teach himself for example how to smile. a basic human action everyone naturally knows how to do. but he doesn't. he had to learn and be forced to do things like that. observing people and picking up how to do things "right". "no one cares about him, there's nowhere in the world for him to rest, that's just how he is" again reffering to his true nature. feeling uncared for and "rightfully" hated in your own eyes. wanting to change and trying to change and pretending yet knowing it'll never truly be real or enough to feel something. "rest" here could either mean literally as in he doesn't get a damn break, never really had anywhere to go at all and has been alone his whole life or doesn't get a break from faking everything I mean with such insane security and obviously being under such pressure it's hard to fully put your guard down anywhere. though I won't say only one since I honestly think it could once again have many meanings, cause most things he says in this song can be taken in different ways that still perfectly fit with his character. "he's smooth, flexible, quite easy" and the rest of this verse coullddddd be reffering to his act. I think so at least. I already said how I feel about that no need to repeat myself.

that's a lot and honestly all I got without repeating myself for the rest I hope this was coherent enough and makes at least some sense. I just wanted to get all this out my system and if anyone has anything to add go ahead and uhbmy bad for getting a little personal but writing all this and thinking about it is honestly therapeutic?? in a way. I so awfully and deeply relate to this guy half the time I think or talk about him and his issues I stop and think about how I'm basically describing myself. he's truly such an insanely well written and interesting character I'm not wven surprised I latched onto him so much I don't even really know what I'm doing okay bye :3

[nightside-of-siberia]

Okay, but:

Agatha and Billy getting so deeply attached to each other that everyone's a little bit convinced that she might some sort of weird aunt of his that no one (including his parents) knew he had until now.

Just imagine all the different things they could get up to together that no one ever bats an eyelid at anymore, 'cause that's just what they do/how they are together, and no, you can't separate them, sorry - they're a package deal: you want one, you have to take the other one as well. Also, please ignore the fighting - yes, we've tried to stop it, no, it didn't go well, no, we don't recommend trying again (for your sanity/wellbeing, not theirs), no, we don't offer returns or insurance, please close the door on your way out, thanks for visiting!

Bonus points:

Billy's parents let him get away with a lot of stuff if Agatha's involved - yeah, sure, she might be a bit more dangerous than they'd like her to bed, but she always brings him back in one piece, and he's never been too traumatised (at least, not in any sort of way that can't be fixed with a few more sessions with that therapist he's already seeing), and a good wash will get rid of pretty much all the rest, so what's the harm?! At least he's not doing drugs/crime/etc. like some of those other kids -

Extra bonus points:

Wanda returns, and everyone's immediately suspicious of her. She hates it, 'cause why is everyone looking at her funny when Agatha's right there?! why is she getting the third degree, and not Agatha?! you know, the one that is arguably even more dangerous than she is?!

(Wanda's as dumb as a brick wall, though, 'cause she doesn't get that everyone's eyeing her funny 'cause she quote literally rolled up out of nowhere and tried to kidnap a kid out from underneath his parents/family/friends/community with literally zero awareness whatsoever as to why that might be a problem - her logic is probably something along the line of, 'but he was my kid first??? why won't you give him back when you stole him from me???'; she'd probably also try to bring up the fact that, while the kid in front of them looks like William Kaplan, William actually died in the car crash and the individual now residing within his body is actually her son, Billy - this, of course, would not make things better as, while this would throw the Kaplans through a loop (especially re: how long Billy's known about this), they're not about to just give up the kid they've raised for the past few years to a complete nut job with a moral compass even more fucked up than the devil's)

. . . I don't remember where I was going with this. Oh, well 🤷‍♀️

[vaguely-concerned]

there are certainly serious things to say and analysis to be made about the tired queen in snow white-ass female fear of aging and losing your beauty as catalysts for evil tropes zara renata is evoking, as well as the treatment of her still-naked body as an object in the post mortem interrogation scene by both the camera and the characters. HOWEVER. personally and with my heart not my brain I forgive it wholeheartedly because there's just something special, something so incredibly fun and campy, both about her horrific literal blood bath and about a character who'll coyly tell you to wait here she'll just slip into something a little more... comfortable😏. and then while keeping hard eye contact with you she slips out of her skin entirely like it's a strapless dress and stands there in her full glistening subcutaneous glory smirking at you. her body isn't a temple it's a slaughterhouse. well. for you. but that's a price she's willing to pay :) ianthe tridentarius behaviour (laudatory)

(to be real for a moment it probably helps a lot that there are plenty of other female villains in the game who aren't presented with a sexual or appearance-focused angle at all. well. not an intentional one at least. ghilan'nain will always do to certain people what she does but that's not the design intention or priority lol. having a zara does not feel as weird when you also have a johanna hezenkoss running around just living her best unlife and doing her thing)

[everypanelofizuku]

Chapter 106 - Class 1-A

[whereismyhat5678]

I always take long periods of time to draw in my actual sketchbook which makes me kinda sad since I’m not using it as much as I would like. But I guess it’s alright since I get to see jump cuts in how much I’ve improved..

Here some that I did just now and that I think are pretty okay:

And I haven’t drawn Pizza Head in a while, and WHOOPTY-FRICKEN-DOO I FORGOT HOW TO DRAW HIM

I’m so upset for not being able to draw him like I used to I’M SO DISAPPOINTED. I guess that just means I gotta learn how to again. Tough times ✌️😗

Sorry for the ramble, just feeling things- anyways hope y’all have a nice night 🫶💕

[buttercup-art]

hey

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[bmpmp3]

character designers when they need to design a mascot for a masculine vocal synthesizer: and i will put a mole. under his LEFT eye

[kinaesthetiqueer]

Enjoy the new Valkyrie Blast! It's just a very normal capri sun! 100% Don't Worry About It!

Took a break from writing and let the muses try out this new flavor of capri sun we cooked up in the NW server last week.

Watermelon, lychee, & mandarin orange— guaranteed to remind you of your favorite happy-go-lucky, hammer-wielding ball of sunshine!

[disposal-blueeee]

got some of my jake art reblogged recently and i find it funny because right now i draw this man like this

( by right now i mean like 2 months ago this drawing is old

i'm sure i can draw him better like , actually right now . it's been so long since i drew him which is funny because he's my favorite character and i would die for him

[seventh-district]

it’s finally getting cold enough that i can bring my cardigan collection back into rotation without feeling like i’m gonna melt into a puddle the second i step outside!!!

[silverselfshippingchaos]

wow the crushes never end, huh?

[justsomerandomweirdo]

so i was going to write this in the tags but i've ended up cackling over my own bullshit because this is absolutely fucking ridiculous and there's way too much to just leave in the tags or a reply so sorry for the long post but here we go

first things first: i have only ever published one fanfic on ao3, so if we're only counting published fics then yeah sure 'untitled' i know what that one is it's the dumb jasico thing i wrote in like 2015-2016 which was like five sentences long or smth, the answer is yes

if we're counting the APPARENTLY OVER A THOUSAND unfinished unpublished word documents currently languishing in my 'Fanfics and shit' folder, the answer is a resounding No The Fuck I Would Not

holy shit there's so much going on here

so I've gotten slightly better at titling fics since the days when i would just call things 'bleh', 'oop de doop', 'wtf' or 'wtf au the fuckening pt 3', and now actually call these word documents (which will at best hold my attention for about three days and more commonly less than a single day bc i can never fucking stay focused on anything long enough to finish it) things like 'archivist sasha is good though', 'no eliot then' or 'sighs in self insert'

naturally those are still pretty vague so there's still enough confusion that i have to keep them in specific folders and sort by date modified rather than alphabetically, so i can see what fic came before 'that but more elusive' or 'that but Wit earlier and less assassining' or 'more spy though' or 'more nervous though' or... yeah

but at least i have the folders organised, you say! ahahahahahaha, no, no i do not have the folders organised. these folders are a mess of fics organised vaguely by vibes and fandoms, not helped by the fact that the majority of them are crossover fics for fandoms with very different vibes

for instance: where are the Alex Rider fanfics? yeah that's a very good question let me check. okay so the non-crossover fics are in the surprisingly helpfully named 'alex frickin rider then' folder, which lives in the 'dumb thing' folder inside the 'boop' folder. The 'boop' folder is actually for Foxhole Court fics - or no, it's specifically for crossover fics where Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender joins the Palmetto State Foxes, there was another barely-used folder for non-crossover aftg fics which i think just has in it like an au where Neil was a Raven or some shit, but I was simultaneously hyperfixated on Zuko and aftg for like quite a while so there's uh. Like well over two hundred attempts to figure out how putting Zuko on this terrible fucking sports team would go. Anyways, back on task, the 'dumb thing' folder was like few OC (really SI) type things bc i decided i had made my boy zuko suffer enough (and i should suffer instead), and the alex rider folder got put in there bc vibes. it makes sense in my brain i swear

anyways so where do the alex rider crossover fics go? good question, i think i know most of them but let me check! so the aftg crossovers are in the 'back to exy' folder in the 'alex frickin rider then' folder, there's a single really dumb hp crossover idea in a different subfolder called 'aaargh' about Julia Rothman having a magical child which will never see the light of day so long as jkr remains on her bigoted bullshit, and then we have to leave the boop folder entirely to search out the remainder. oh lmao i forgot what was in that 'sigh' folder hey i just found a foxhole court/mistborn crossover idea that literally only exists bc i thought of the sentence 'Ash fell from the end of Neil's cigarette' like hot damn that references the opening lines of both books if only i had a story to go with it, wait what was i doing oh yeah alex rider fics... okay so i think all of the rest of them are leverage crossovers and uh. so uh. so okay all the leverage fics live in the 'why' folder i think, except for that one crossover i just found in the 'leverage' folder at the bottom of the 'this now' folder which is for pjo fics, and the 'why' folder isn't actually for leverage it's for mistborn, but its where the leverage fics live in another 'leverage' subfolder bc heist vibes, except that subfolder is actually for mistborn/leverage crossovers and there's a 'modern' folder in that which is where the regular leverage stuff goes, except that's only got like two things in bc why have regular leverage when you can have 'eliot worked for scorpia before moreau' leverage, like seriously you know that bit in that warehouse scene where eliot shoots the guy behind him without even looking yeah now think about that bit in the stormbreaker film where yassen shoots that guy behind him without even looking you can't unthink it just accept Scorpia!Eliot into your hearts. so yeah there's an 'alex rider crossover then' folder in that - oh lmao there's another 'exy' folder in here the aftg fics are everywhere, but like jean moreau should clearly definitely be related to damien moreau that's just common sense and if we assume stormbreaker does in fact take place in 2001 then alex is the right age to join the foxes around 2005-2006 either the same year as neil or one before and you can actually do a fun thing with The Inside Job if you say that Wakefields actually used to be called something else before a merger with Greenfields, that evil gm wheat company from Crocodile Tears, so alex could be... (i continue infodumping about this nonexistent three-way-crossover, and a camera slowly zooms out to show me sitting alone at the center of the venn diagram of aftg fans, alex rider fans and leverage fans. a tumbleweed blows past)

anyways i think the best organised folder is probably the 'spoopy' folder which is for magnus archives stuff, im pretty sure no tma stuff has actually found its way outside that, though there are more crossovers inside naturally. there's a 'pjo crossover nonsense now' folder which is reasonably self explanatory, most of the barely-started fics in there assume Jonah Magnus is a son of Athena trying to escape death by creating his own new pantheon, then there's a 'cosmere nonsense bullshit' folder which only has one thing in it bc what if Fear was a Shard like can we let Cognitive Shadow Gerry say to Jon and Martin 'so yeah remember when i said there's no gods of love or hope or indigestion yeah actually turns out i was wrong there's a whole bunch of them actually it's pretty great', and on the subject of letting Gerry have nice things there's yet another fucking exy folder, called, 'tfc folder too big so crossover goes here' because Gerry can would and should be a Fox. lmao just imagine the moriyamas trying to intimidate him, this man has seen supernaturally induced atrocities your petty gang bullshit doesn't even register for him Riko you idiot, and then the foxes are incredibly fucking confused and concerned when Mary Keay shows up and Gerry's clearly more scared of this little old lady than anything to do with Riko and wait what do you mean she's your mother-

anyways pls remind me to go ask a doctor about adhd diagnosis bc i would like to maybe be able to finish writing a single thing in my life like ever

fanfic writers: if you were shown nothing but the title of one of your own fics, do you think you would be able to remember which one it is