#so i’m for sure not taking one now

[the-travelling-witch]

our college asked us to send in pictures of ourselves for graduation and, me being me, i have exactly zero pictures where you can see my face

someone end me now

[odetojupiter]

the fact that kevin day also witnessed a man being chopped up in the tower at evermore after neil’s audition is mad, and it’s something that is very much not addressed ever. like, maybe part of kevin was so accepting of how things were in the nest because he knew that this is the second branch, and if he were to leave, he’d become the main branch’s problem because he knows too much, and the main branch casually chops men up as a warning to literal children. and then he’s still called a coward for leaving ?? but also a coward for wanting to go back to make the inevitable less painful for him ??? and that’s not even considering what riko and tetusji did to him specifically, before even jean arrived at the nest. and his mother’s death would’ve been quite recent at that point. just insane.

[turtleblogatlast]

Love when people play with the idea that one of Leo’s katana could have accidentally been left in the Prison Dimension and furthermore I love when that idea has Consequences™️.

Oh a chunk of your soul is in a place nothing can escape unless by means of ripping a hole through dimensions? Good luck with that.

Imagine Leo doesn’t realize it at first, and just assumes that this off, empty feeling is just “depression kicking it up a notch haha.” Later, he thinks it’s “probably just the ✨trauma✨, that’s what Mikey’s pamphlet said, I guess.”

And then, his body heals, and the brothers go out on the first mission they’d had in a while.

Leo goes to teleport and-

He’d never known what the in-between state of teleportation felt like until then. Seeing the world in a state of everything and nothing, simultaneously. To witness reality as a mass of molecules, just an infinite well of things put together to make a whole, and he, too, is broken into pieces yet he feels it all. He doesn’t know what’s happening, and it doesn’t really hurt but it’s-

In a blink, he’s at his katana, his teleport successful.

He’d been in the inbetween for ten minutes.

[redhotarsenic]

@nowfallc PICTURE!! FOR YOU!! PLEASE TAKE IT!! <3

[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.

[stuckinapril]

I’m happy for the little life I built for myself

[aquarifiend]

Downloading cc and all I have to say is… why on earth am I having to click through three or four different sites to get to the download are you getting paid for every link clicked????

[9ofspades]

It’s disability pride month, and if you are disabled in the U.S. from Long Covid I want you to know that you’re not alone, and you’re valid in whatever you feel. Whether that’s sorrow at your new problems or rage at society for failing you, you are valid, and it is truly messed up that society is continuing to fail you.

[seeminglyseph]

I think it matters a lot that a) everyone who has seeming offered to help Karna has done so *after* she needed it. And b) was in some way using her and therefore needed her.

In the eyes of a child, if you weren’t there when she needed you, and can’t even help yourself, what good are you to her?

[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 

[mikesbasementbeets]

everyone seems so sure that nell is a recast of holly but i truly don’t see it tbh…. she’s not giving holly wheeler vibes To Me. seems funny (weird) to recast her Now (as if the other child actors haven’t also grown far past their canon ages) and then Also style her so distinctly different than we’ve seen holly before. the high pigtails to low ones, the muted/pastel colors to bright ones… if it really were holly, wouldn’t they want to definitively convey that by styling her in a way that balanced how different she would already look being played by a different actor? idk man!!! maybe i’m very wrong!!! but. i just don’t buy it

[darlingpoppet]

ＬｉｍｉｎａｌＳｐａｃｅｓ— Chapter 3

Hades (Video Game) | Modern AU (College/University) | PZA | Explicit | Chapters: 3/7 | Words: 21,238 (Chapter 3: 6,763)

Summary: Inspired by The Dreamers, except make it 2010s and ｖａｐｏｒｗａｖｅ. Zagreus is a university student who feels aimless in life. His girlfriend dumped him, things between him & his best friend are weird, and he lacks ambition in his studies, all while the optimistic visions of his generation’s future are becoming lost. Until one day, he falls into the orbit of Achilles & Patroclus―a charming, yet eccentric pair who completely alter Zagreus’ outlook on life & death, love & loss, past & future, and the transitions in between. (Chapter 3 summary: Zagreus reaches a stalemate in his relationship with Thanatos. Achilles & Patroclus invite Zagreus back to their place again for what ends up being a highly-charged evening of music, games, drinking, and sex.)

Excerpt:

“Ugh, Pat. Why don’t you go get a glass?”

Achilles scowls as he watches Patroclus take a particularly clumsy swig directly from the wine bottle, accidentally allowing some to escape from the corners of his mouth and run in blood-like rivulets down his chin and neck. Achilles, to his discredit, hasn’t been behaving much better. His own glass has gone untouched for a while now, and he opts instead to pass the bottle back and forth between himself and Patroclus.

“I will get one whenever I next have an excuse to end up in the kitchen,” Patroclus says as he hands the bottle back to Achilles. “Consider every sip of wine a kiss from me.”

“Why consider it, when I can just do this?”

Achilles pours some wine into his mouth, holding it there while he leans over to Patroclus and feeds it to him. Wine dribbles out between their mouths as the transfer devolves into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. They struggle to stifle their giggles over the mess they’re making, while reveling in the delectations of the kiss.

If they were anyone else, Zagreus might have felt irritated to be made a captive audience to their impudent displays of affection. But as it is, he has difficulty ever seeing their behavior as anything but endearing. And to be fair, he thinks to himself, as he tips back his wine glass for small sip: they are probably really, really drunk.

“We should let Zagreus have a turn at the game,” Patroclus says as soon as he regains his composure.

Zagreus, whose mouth is still full, tries not to splutter as he swallows down his drink all at once. He titters incredulously.

“What, me? I don’t even know anything about the kind of music you like.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Patroclus says kindly. “I’ll help you with it.”

“Patroclus, no, don’t you dare—” Achilles starts, his voice sharp with warning.

“It’s all right, Achilles! Don’t you want to make our guest to feel clever? And who knows, maybe you’ll know the answer.” Patroclus grins impishly as he bounds over to Zagreus’ side, taking the wine bottle with him.

“And what if he doesn’t?” Zagreus asks Patroclus.

“And if he doesn’t—” Patroclus repeats; he leans in slowly, his mouth now so close to his ear that Zagreus can hear the gentle intake of breath in his preparation to speak. Zagreus feels the coarseness of his beard, the nearness of his warmth, making his skin prickle; he can catch a whiff of the alcohol, along with the earthy, yet floral sweet smell of his dark brown skin. “—He’ll have to do whatever you say.”

READ THE REST ON AO3 HERE!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57964459/chapters/148565071

Chapter Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3

[hplonesomeart]

Heyyy….so I’m back to posting arts momentarily I guess (not like I went anywhere though. Still spending my life staring at a iPad screen for nine hours straight….hate this routine I loosely call “living” so much hahahahaha chronically online potato sack. Not doing so hot I can’t even anymore!)

Anyways uh-so I have a lot of scraped things because I’m loosing energy to do creative works I can’t keep pushing myself. Kinda accepted that I’ve weighed myself down exhausted myself with all this pressure and I need to let go. But it’s hard and honestly the last thing I want is fatigue again. But guess it’s a cycle for a reason huh. Can’t fight it off, just stuck powerless and letting it happen begrudgingly

So I made this unfinished gif (you can tell because the hand is missing and the background looks unidentifiable. Plus cigarette smoke just gave up on existing wow so relatable). Honestly I kinda set myself up to get stuck on the process of this anyways since I don’t like animating on Procreate. The layering frames system is a pain to navigate. Only reason I wanted to animate Mr. Puzzles using Procreate is for some level of gained “experience” and added brush diversity for the glitch effect. But guess it wasn’t enough to keep my attention. Started it on August 5th, probably abandoned it two days later or so. I don’t know it feels like a long long time ago by now but that’s just because I’ve been overwhelmed mentally and can’t keep track of days passing bye

And this is the simplified version (aka what I started with originally as a drawn base messy sketchy illustration)

[lady-merian]

Maybe a Christian fiction writer just needs to tell the truth. Then tell a better truth.

[mushroominaforest]

I mean yes, definitely, but I also just really like projecting lmfao

[khamomile-kitty]

Only thing I’m gonna say abt it bc I haven’t read the books or participated tje fandom since I was in elementary school but. Ppl’s reaction to Squirrelflight becoming leader is so funny. The misogyny of the authors has rubbed off on the fans I see, how are you gonna tell a victim of domestic abuse that’s she’s a worse leader and suffered less than her husband. And all the alternate leader suggestions from these ppl are the lame ass guys. this is one of the saddest characters in cat fiction let the girlie win at least once good lord