#so this is my bitch place now

[dfnkt]

Gonna pin this because the tone of my complaining often sounds authoritative or something and it's not. All these things I complain about? Do them all at once, I don't care. I'm an adult so I use the tools available to me (blocking, muting, etc) instead of expecting everyone to cater to my neuroses. In general unless the post says otherwise I don't think any of this behavior should be banned from anywhere and even if I did it's not like I run any websites lol.

You wanna RP Bro Strider as a good, quirky, UWU soft boy? Go ahead! Want a tiny, annoying, blushing, stuttering, turbo twink as your John? Sure! I think your taste is trash and I also think that at that point, you should make an OC because if your character doesn't meaningfully resemble the canon character in *any* way then you're wasting everyone's time by rping what is functionally an OC under a canon tag.

But I also think that my complete disdain for "good guy" Bro Strider or pissy shitty tiny, submissive Johns should not dictate what anyone says or does or is allowed to say or do on any website. I just reserve the right to dunk on people's trash takes in (relative) private.

John Egbert enjoyer despite all the Dave content that's likely to be here. Dave is just more fun to ruin.

[justaz]

im a slut for post magic reveal arthur (& knights) thinking merlin has like. a smidge of magic. like he can get stains out of clothes or warm food and baths but OBVIOUSLY merlin can’t fight. that’s ridiculous. merlin doesn’t correct this notion for whatever reason - perhaps it’s best that people think that so when they’re all in danger, he isn’t registered as a threat so he can protect his silly lil guys. ofc his silly lil guys realize that they were wrong bc the bad guys get a lil too close to hurting arthur and merlin is like “nope! fights over!!” and annihilates them

[katzirrart]

Scans these at a later date BUT I'M ALSO PLEASED THAT THIS BOUT OF ART BLOCK HAS ME RECREATING MY RECREATIONAL DOODLE STYLE AGAIN....

Like, I haven't had a good doodle relationship/style in ages and in my warm ups and stuff I've been doing these little things and THEY'VE ALSO HELPED IN THE LEARNING because simplifying shapes etc??

THEY'RE ALSO JUST CUTE.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s11e20 don't call me shurley (w. robbie thompson) be still my beating heart part 3 of ∞

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i am asleep much in the way that Wally is asleep. that is to say, I Am Not Sleeping

[kiddokori]

the beauty of no home is that, as a reader, eunyung is soo funny and silly and entertaining to watch that you end up rooting for him a lot and really enjoying when hes around. but as a human being you see him leave his trash out in shared spaces for so long it attracts bugs and go holy shit what the hell. this guy sucks fuck this guy. which i think is exactly what knowing him in real life would be like

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[wellfine]

Hey I found ur art uncredited on tik Tok

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMreQSnaw/

They said they "found it on Reddit" so they just decided to steal it and post it ig?? Ugh!!

Wow, that's a whole other repost to the one I thought it was going to be, lol. It's been reposted to TikTok once before, and I'm also not surprised this person got it from Reddit, where I doubt I was credited either.

At the end of the day I appreciate the heads up but there's nothing I can really do about it. The most helpful thing anyone can do is to leave comments on the reposts to provide credit,* because if artists ever try and comment then we pretty invariably get attacked. Don't be mean or aggressive, that just builds their animosity towards the artists, but I do think people respond positively to outside pressure to do the right thing 🤷

*Remember to make sure there's enough context - eg. something like "art by @ landegart on Twitter" is more searchable/useful than "artist is Landeg" to someone on TikTok who has no idea who I am haha

[eclipseshotel]

Me busting into Elder Predator’s chambers to chew his ass out after he ignored my gauntlet call six times in a row (he was taking a much needed old man nap)

[faunandfloraas]

A collection of Seungmin selfies.

[fluffypotatey]

Thanks for enlightening me to what they did. [Macaque sacrificing himself to the Pagoda because “I get all the consequences and you get to mope!”] This is like him trying to make up for Wukong sacrificing himself to surrender to the Jade Emperor. The Pagoda may be no Five Phases Mountain, but at least Wukong can be the one to run away this time. I am NOT okay ;-; Could I 👉👈 cut off the rest of my nonsense and just resend the single piece of brainrot I've yet to see covered by you, reblogs, or another anon? because I understand my asks are too much at once lol. In trying to avoid burdening you with multiple tiny asks as each thought comes to me, I try to cover everything at once, but that has its own drawbacks. Sorry about that! You can ignore what I sent before since other anons/reblogs have basically mentioned those aspects already. This specific bit about everyone fighting for the title of most sacrificial butt had a lil more effort because I wanted to provide some entertainment for you :D

Wukong falls, his pained cries filling all six ears, and Macaque halts. The past, the present, the future. The visions brought by what he hears, all those whispered memories converge on that moment. Why him- why again-? He turns to call out his name and watches as MK races to Wukong's side, his monkey form flickering from some invisible connection that's strained and hurting, just like it did the first time you found him sitting by the cliff's edge, he's hurting too from this. You don't need to think about it. You're already in the way, the second you hear Li Jing say "this nonsense ends now." You're grabbing his arm and dispelling the spell. It's silent all around. There's a single ring of the bell from your angsty little soundtrack. AND THERE MACKY GOES, his eyes shadowed as he grits his teeth, "Xiaotian..." But his mind is already made up. Calm, focused, acceptance in between the gloom. "You go...and save the world." HE SAYS WHILE TURNING AROUND WITH HIS RED SCARF LOOKING LIKE A CAPE BILLOWING IN THE WIND. Wukong is stunned, "What? No! Macaque- No!" as he starts sinking into the shadows. He can only yell out once more before before everything disappears. What is WRONG WITH HIM. Wukong bodily tackling him from heaven to the earth wasn't enough. I need to crush him on the ocean floor. ~ oooh red is the color of heroes ~ ooh classy cape look and STUPID DRAMATIC LINE DROP YOU SAVE FOR THE END OF THE SEASON YOU LOSER MONKEY. he wants to be the knight in shining tattered cape sooooo bad/j and then pretends it's all for Mk and not also Wukong. Hey, do you think Macky knows how to use a washing machine?

*through tears* nah, i bet he doesn’t know what a washing machine is

WHY IS HE LIKE THIS T^T

[anxious-chaos-art]

“Unnecessary trauma huh?”

[todayisafridaynight]

sometimes i get nishiki i really do

[bacchuschucklefuck]

(chuckles) Im so good at reading comprehension and my meat is huge

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[qprpbj]

okay but can we imagine darry wearing the shirt paul gave him to bed after the events of the musical...

he had actually shoved it to the bottom of his drawer after they broke up because hello that's his ex's shirt and he lowkey forgot he even had it only for paul to bring it up at the rumble

and so he digs it out of his drawer and cuddles with it reminiscing about the days when his life wasn't shit and his boyfriend

but wait i have more... the reason paul gave it to him is because during one of their famous sleepovers darry spilled something on his shirt, so paul gave him one of his and then comments that he should keep it because it looks so much better on darry than it does him (im screaming into the void why am i coming up with these ideas, i should be sleeping!)

what if i write my first fic about this... (i have literally never had such a desire to write before this fucking musical sending me into a tailspin)

hello. you are INSANE!!!!! i think madras shirts are more dressy so idk if darry would be sleeping in it but…falling asleep w it in his arms…….sleeping in old hoodies of paul’s that he’d take from paul’s house………hmmmm.

PLEASEEEEEEE write paul darry fic!!!! there is not NEARLY enough!!!!! who needs sleep!!!