#particularly boring

[gothicastles]

7/18 pages of my research done 🤓☝️ hopefully tomorrow i can reach 11-12/18 pages. this first draft is due on friday so pray for me

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

there's just... there is no reason to make yet another cop show in this day and age. copaganda is not only bullshit, it is a failure of imagination.

you want to watch brooding characters with dark pasts investigate crimes in an official capacity? just use private detectives (cops have a miserable solve rate anyway). want eccentric geniuses & their sidekicks solving mysteries? i present you with armchair detectives & neighborhood busybodies. oh, you're craving a workplace comedy-drama starring overworked protagonists doing their heartfelt best to resolve community conflicts? social worker office sitcom! bitch this is ACHIEVABLE

[clarkgriffon]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER 7x22 | “Chosen” 

[khaotunq]

here comes the last thing on the checklist... The Trainee Episode 6 (2024)

[mxwhore]

Idk if you already got this request a while back but ever since I saw your sphinx Martin I would think what about a Harpy Jon to go with him

i hadnt actually! very fun to think about

[thewingedbaron]

I’m really really curious how Pike’s arc is going to go in the next couple of seasons.

By this point in the campaign she was rebuilding the Everlight’s temple in Vasselhiem. She’d reconciled, working along side her goddess to help bring some worship back.

In the show, shes rejected her. She doesn’t wear her symbol around her neck anymore. We already had the reconciliation, Pike wasn’t forced to choose anything, only to be true to herself. But, after the conversation with Zerxus, she’s rejected Sarenrae again.

I’m so so curious where this is going later. Pike’s relationship with the everlight is such an important piece of her character and has had a pretty significant impact as far as C3. What’s the plan for the show now? Pike seems to be of special blood, something the Whispered One needs for some purpose (as teased by Zerxus). Is pike going to need to make up with her goddess? Have we abandon her completely? Pike’s powers don’t seem to have gone away?

Can’t wait for season 4.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[mango-peach-strawberry]

Fly high, sky guy

[monkayy]

i just wanted to say i love ur art so much and ur take on taylor. its so important for me that taylor be flatchested clocky femme representation and i feel like u capture that so well like ive never seen my mental image of taylor from reading worm so well-represented. its rlly incredible. also if u ever do commissions id love to see bitch in a skirt with hairy legs and choppy blond hair

Thank you so much!! I also have strong feelings about taylors design!!

I dont do commissions however my 2 art buttons are labeled "wouldn't it be funny" and "*praise*" so here

[zirconpetals]

Langworth is such a funny ship because despite the way they look those are a couple of nerds whose top date idea would be debating each other for fun (and they'll have a great time too)

[chickenbyday]

11 and 13 for andreil...(@stabbyfoxandrew)

this uh.. drabble. got away from me. and is also most definitely not what you intended.

Prompts are "I thought you were dead" and "We're going to get arrested for this". Enjoy!

The chain link fence gives under Andrew's boot in a way that sends his stomach swooping towards the cold hard ground below, but he manages to keep his balance long enough to prevent the ten-foot free fall. Aaron huffs from the ground, although whether it's from amusement or annoyance at Andrew's plight is up in the air, and Andrew refuses to look down and check. When he swings his leg over, his jean snags on the top where the shitty wire isn't folded over, and Andrew swears under his breath. He's going to kill the man when they finally get to him, and this is going onto the list of reasons, right after the fake death and the ghosting. 

Andrew finally spares Aaron a look. "Sometime before the sun comes up, if you don't mind," he whisper-yells, and Aaron drags his hands over his face roughly before dragging his feet over to the fence and following Andrew's lead. 

"We're going to get arrested for this," Aaron mutters, and Andrew rolls his eyes, although he knows Aaron can't see him. It's more likely to be the FBI considering the man Andrew is trying sneak up on, and apparently, they've been handled. 

"I know the guy," Andrew says instead when he gets two feet on the ground, and Aaron jumps from the top like the asshole he is, landing next to him, snow crunching under his heels. 

"Then why the fuck are we breaking and entering?" Aaron asks, trailing Andrew to the fire escape stairs. The bottom level ladder isn't completely lowered, and Andrew turns to look at Aaron head on. Before he opens his mouth, Aaron shakes his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"You owe me," Andrew says, which technically is true, and the only reason he got Aaron to come. Not that he told him about this part, because, well--

"I don't owe you this much," Aaron says, eyeing the drop-down ladder. Also, arguably, technically true. "I'm not going to jail for this."

"What, don't think Nicky would post our bail?" Andrew asks snidely, and Aaron glares. He's rubbing at his temples again, which means that he already knows that Andrew isn't budging and is trying to decide whether or not it's worth that argument in the middle of the night after they've already broken into the place. 

"I'm not going to be the one to do it," Aaron says instead of arguing again, and Andrew shrugs. He can salvage this. 

"You think you can give me the boost?" Andrew asks, because he really, really doesn't want to do this part. 

"It's not like you're tall," Aaron says, rolling his shoulders and gauging the distance between the ground and the ladder. 

Andrew huffs at him but doesn't have a rebuttal to that. It's not like he is tall. Andrew shakes most of the slush off his boots, because as much as he wants to be a dick about this, if Aaron loses feeling in his fingers, Andrew will be the one to pay for it. 

He'll find a way to get him back eventually. Probably when Aaron cashes in on what Andrew will owe him for.

Aaron moves to stand under the ladder and drops to one knee. Andrew comes up behind him and clambers onto his shoulders, and Aaron slowly stands up, tipping Andrew in the process. 

Andrew yanks his hair when he regains his balance. Asshole. Andrew would have done this part smoothly. "Fuck all the way off," Aaron says, swaying in a way that makes Andrew's stomach twist and turn. 

When Aaron finally finds his footing and braces for it, Andrew does the shamble of an amateur gymnast that it takes to get to something that resembles standing, Aaron gripping his ankles hard enough to make the leather of his boots creak. 

"Why are you wearing these shoes to do this?" Aaron complains, and Andrew ignores him in favor of reaching up to grab the- 

The ladder is still too tall. 

This is why he didn't want to be the one to do it. 

Andrew pauses, and Aaron looks up to see what the holdup is and groans. 

Andrew knocks his knee against the side of his head. "Let go of me," he demands, and Aaron to his credit does, and Andrew says, "Watch your shoulders," before jumping to the bottom rung. The ladder slides down half a foot in a jolt, Andrew's intestines falling to the floor, but when it settles again, Andrew is still dangling in the air. 

He pulls himself up enough to grab the next rung and manages to get to landing without crashing back to the ground. When he gets there, he undoes the latches holding the ladder in place and sends it down for Aaron to follow. 

They climb up the rest of the steps, and they get to the fourth floor before Aaron finally asks, "So who's apartment are we breaking into?" Only took him three hours. That's two and a half hours later than Andrew was expecting, but small mercies he guesses. 

Granted, Andrew did show up at his apartment at ten o'clock at night and told him he was cashing in and nothing more. 

"This guy's," Andrew says in answer, and Aaron kicks the back of his heel. "We were... friends," Andrew continues, because Aaron still wears steel toed, apparently, and Andrew doesn't want a repeat. He grumbles something about not knowing Andrew had friends, but Andrew ignores him. "He disappeared off the face of the earth a year ago and turned up here two months ago with a different name. He deserves a kick in the teeth."

None of that was quite the truth, but it was as close enough as it could get with the distraction of the task at hand. 

"What makes you think it's the same guy and not a look-alike?" Aaron asks, which if it was anyone else, might be a reasonable question. Andrew shrugs at him the best he can over his shoulder, and Aaron rolls his eyes at him with a huff. 

When they get to the fifteenth floor, Andrew pauses, startling when Aaron runs into his back. "Are we there yet?" Aaron asks, not quite out of breath, but in the vicinity of it. 

"Door one or door two?" Andrew asks, gesturing at the two windows on the landing, and Aaron whips around to look at him. 

"How do you not know which one?" He asks, voice reaching an octave that Andrew would be alarmed about if he didn't know that Aaron was a dramatic little bitch.

"Renee works in mysterious ways," Andrew says cryptically, because the real answer is that he does know, probably, if he was paying attention, but the answer is lost somewhere in his memory and Andrew has no idea how to pull it out. 

"Why does Renee know where your secret friend is?" Aaron asks, because, well. Her line of work has never exactly been one that you want to get mixed up in, never mind that these days, she works to break up the gangs like the ones she was running with as a teen. 

She had to pull a lot of strings to figure out where the FBI dumped him when they were through getting his testimony, and she told Andrew that she wouldn't be able to find him again if he fucks it up and gets him relocated. He told her not to worry. Andrew wasn't losing him again. 

Andrew ignores Aaron's question and picks a window to peak into. He finds himself looking into a darkened living room, at a plush couch with tasteful pillows and photos of dogs on the far wall. Definitely not. Andrew remembers the state of the apartment he had a year ago. 

The other window proves more promising, the furniture looking like it's probably been in this building since the old woman who lived here last kicked it, saving the FBI from having to figure out how to get this man a furnished apartment. Or maybe they picked out the most god-awful stuff they could find after having to deal with him as some form of revenge. Andrew can't say that he blames them if the latter was the case. 

Andrew shimmies one of his knives through the crack where the window is latched down, carefully pushing the latch open. When it eventually gives, Andrew slips his knife back into its band and carefully slides the window up, letting in the powdery snow lining the sill. Andrew turns to Aaron, and Aaron shakes his head. 

"What?" Andrew hisses at him through his teeth, and Aaron gestures emphatically to the window. 

"I'm not breaking and entering this guy's apartment!" He hisses back. 

"We haven't broken anything yet. It's still just trespassing," Andrew says, one foot already halfway through the window. Not technically true, because breaking and entering includes if there's intent to commit a crime, and Andrew plans on committing a murder before this night is over. But Aaron doesn't need to know that. 

"That doesn't make this better," Aaron argues, following him through. 

"Actually, according to the law, it does." Andrew turns and stops dead in his tracks. 

The bluest eyes Andrew has ever seen in his life are staring back at him, a deer caught in the head lights, a flash of a knife caught in his fist.

"It's going to be the same call from jail," Aaron says, spinning around and promptly freezing. For a moment, no one moves. 

"Neil," Andrew says, as absolutely flat as he can muster. He's not sure he manages it if the way Neil inhales sharply is anything to go by. 

Neil says nothing, still staring at Andrew like-- 

Andrew turns to Aaron. "You can leave," he says, and Aaron gestures between the three of them wordlessly. 

Andrew points to the window. He does not say please, but Aaron must be less of a jackass than he lets on, because he catches it anyway. "I'll be in the car," he grumbles. Andrew tosses him the keys, and he leaves after shooting Neil a look Andrew isn't quite sure how to parse. 

Andrew watches the window slide shut, and then watches the closed window for good measure, carefully clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. 

"Andrew," Neil finally says, and Andrew flinches, whirling around to face him. 

"What are you doing here?" Andrew spits, his breath burning hot in his lungs and igniting the dark coal in his chest. 

Neil keeps staring at him, like he has any right to be looking at Andrew like that right now, and says, "I could ask you the same." 

Andrew wants to break his face more than it already has been since the last time Andrew has seen him. "I keep my promises." Neil's eyes cut down to the floor when he hears the unspoken, unlike you. 

"There wasn't another option," Neil says instead of answering Andrew's original question. Andrew's nails dig into his palms hard enough draw blood, a sudden burst of warmth he wasn't expecting. 

"Thought you were the optimist between the two of us," Andrew says, glaring at the spot on the carpet where his shoes are melting into the floor, because if he looks at Neil right now, he'll kill him. 

It's starting to hit Andrew that he might not have been a hallucination after all, and he doesn't know what to do with that revelation. 

"I never pretended to be," Neil says, and he sounds as tired as Andrew feels. "I was just... stupid." 

Andrew's eyes snap up to his. "So that's how it is?" Andrew asks, clinging to the apathy settled into his bones. 

"I'm sorry," Neil says, dragging his hands through his hair, "for dragging you into this." 

"I don't care." The forest fire in his chest has gone out in a haze. Andrew wills his eyes not to water in the smokey aftermath of it. 

"I know," Neil says, and there's something wrong with the lilt of his voice. 

"Also irrelevant," Andrew says, instead of addressing it. 

"I didn't have another choice." Neil puts the knife away into the drawer in front of him. 

"Bullshit." 

Neil walks around the countertop that separates the living room and the kitchen and sits on the couch. They would have killed you, if I had fought back." 

Andrew plops down next to him, crossing his arms and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Neil wrinkles his nose at Andrew's shoes but elects not to say anything. "They would have tried."

Despite himself, Neil huffs a laugh. "Andrew," He says, and Andrew can't believe it's been a year since he's heard that voice, "These people were employees of a man known as The Butcher." 

"'Were'?" Andrew asks, and the mirth on Neil's face vanishes, mouth forming a thin line. It gives Andrew a moment to study the other new lines carved into Neil's face from up close, but Andrew can't think about it too hard, because there madness lies, and he just managed to cool the embers of his rage. 

"Were," Neil responds firmly, and Andrew lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

"What happened?" Andrew asks after sitting in silence for a long moment of listening to Neil breath next to him, a sound Andrew didn't even know was possible to miss. 

"They got me on my way out of work. FBI caught up some twelve hours later." Neil picks at the scars dotting his hands, and it's a familiar enough sight that Andrew smacks his hands lightly without thinking. Neil looks up at him and smiles softly, and the back of Andrew's neck tingles in a way it hasn't in a while. Still, this isn't adding up.

"Why didn't you come back?" Andrew asks, and Neil drops his gaze to his hands. 

"They had your address and were going to get you instead if I fought," Neil says, and Andrew rolls his eyes. 

"This martyr shit isn't cute." God. The fact that this didn't occur to Andrew as a possibility months ago is ridiculous. 

"It would have been my fault," Neil says, like that's any kind of defense or justification. "If something happened to you, it would have been my fault."

"I don't care," Andrew repeats, catching his eyes again.

Neil narrows his eyes, an anger that Andrew hasn't seen in a year that he didn't think he'd see again. "Someone needs to care about your life," Neil says, an edge to his voice that hasn't been there. 

"I thought you were dead," Andrew says, matching that edge. 

Neil blinks before shaking his head roughly, ignoring him. "I couldn't lose you," Neil says, like that's a thing he's allowed to admit out loud, like that's a thing he's allowed to feel about Andrew, like that matters at all when it means Andrew has to lose Neil. 

"Then don't," Andrew says, eyes still locked on Neil's, and Neil is still fucking looking at him like-- 

"Yes or no?" Neil asks, and Andrew crashes into him without bothering to answer. 

Andrew isn't losing him again.

[popsicle-stick]

leaving this here and running away but i don't actually hate coppola's 92 dracula. as a film, it unironically slaps. however. as an adaptation of the 1897 book 'dracula' by bram stoker, it IS objectively terrible

[frankenfossil]

you're never going to be the most popular magical girl when your colour is orange

cassidy from sleepless domain

[jakeperalta]

my boyfriend watches a lot of american sports which means I see a lot of american tv ads and the political ads (for both the presidential election and local elections) the past few months have been blowing my mind. I can't believe how seemingly unregulated it is?? they're all just throwing all kinds of nonsense out there and focusing more on slandering opponents than actual information. the whole political landscape seems like such a hellscape I really am sorry for you all

[roseandgold137]

Jack drake would take a job as the night guard for Freddy fazbear’s but more importantly he’d still come back after the first night to finish the week

[alyona11]

Thinking how the importance of style for beginner artists is often so overrated. So many artists obsessed with “finding a style” and panicking when they can’t/their style is constantly drastically changes. But the style is just a combination of things you love and happen to find comfortable and comforting for you to draw and I think eventually you just…circle to the tendency in style you find the most convenient. I don’t think there is a necessity of running after style above all else. Just find the things you enjoy drawing, find the artists whom you find visually pleasing. If you wanna, try to break down their work for studying, it’ll help you to understand which parts about their style you enjoy the most. Adapt the things you learned for your work, test them out, see if they stick. If not - that’s ok, not all things that look cool in other’s work is good for your own work. Have fun, don’t pressure yourself to have a consistent style by tomorrow, it’ll come around even if you don’t see it yet. Artists are also often blind to their style sometimes, just by the sheer amount of time we spend looking at our,all stuff and thinking that it should have looked different.

Give yourself some time, do not rush