#thank you for sending my dude !

[secondbeatsongs]

it's so funny trying to talk to people about Speed Racer (2008), because it's like...what if there was a guy who drove a car so well that he defeated capitalism

[spaciebabie]

number one most insane award goes to me it really is christmas oh my god hallelujah

[telesodalite]

I need to be weirder about the scavengers and cannibalism...

[eowynstwin]

Sorry, idk if you’re still accepting Gaz prompts but he just looks like such a sweet genuine guy, what if he brings the reader something insignificant like a leaf or a pebble or such from where ever he’s deployed to, and they don’t look like much but he tells you a full in-depth story with each one. The reader’s house is full of shadow boxes with all the other little momentos from previous deployments. I just feel like he could be so good at like communication and connecting with people he loves. Sorry this isn’t much of a prompt but it rattles in my head so often with Gaz

Keepsakes

You hear him when he comes in, so you don’t startle when his hands fall to rest on your hips as he comes up behind you. He presses the bottom half of his face into your hair, rubs his mouth around in the exact way that will catch errant strands in his stubble and annoy you into reaction.

You do not disappoint him, ducking your head away to make him work for it as you wrinkle your nose in mock-offense. “Kyle Garrick, every bloody time with you!”

He snorts and presses a kiss instead to the nape of your neck. “Missed you too, lovie.”

You relent, and take both of his hands to pull his arms around you. His breath is warm on your skin, and he smells fabulous—exactly like the cologne you gave him for his last birthday. He hugs you tight from behind, pulling you into the expanse of his body as he sighs deeply, happily, and you relax into him.

“Got somethin’ for me, then?” he murmurs, and when you turn in his arms to face him his expression is beautifully soft, the deep brown of his eyes liquid with affection.

You kiss him, pressing your mouth to the little curved smile on his lips and bringing your hands up to cup his jaw. He is solid against you, sturdy and whole, exactly the way you’d told him to bring himself back to you. His smile melds to your lips, soft and pliant, and you think there is no better experience in the world than kissing this man in your arms.

Well, almost. “You have somethin’ for me, too?” you breathe against him. You feel heat building in the low basin of your core, responding to the roam of Gaz’s hands along your back.

He pulls back just a little, looks from you to the wall behind you. “You sure there’s room?”

You turn again in his embrace and lean back into his chest. A museum’s worth of artifacts, of no significance to anyone but you and Gaz, hang in careful but joyful arrangement on the drywall.

Stones in shadow boxes, little chips of earth Kyle found lodged in his shoe or a crease in his vest. Dried flowers and leaves, framed behind panes of glass that you dust meticulously. A flock of paper cranes, folded out of international brochures, flyers, old redacted intelligence briefings, strung up in a line. Platoons of tiny bottles, filled with sand from beaches that had not been neighbors since the first splitting of the continents. And a myriad of unique things, bottle caps, marbles, playing cards with interesting faces. Each and every one of them, a story.

“Yes,” you confirm.

Kyle takes one arm from around you to dig his hand around in his pocket. What he withdraws, and holds out in front of you, is new—green, obviously glass, but compressed like paper folded over and over until it was simply too thick to take another crease. You hold out your hands, cupped, and he places it in their center. The thing is no bigger than his thumb.

“Found this, if you can believe it, on an oil derrick. I shit you not, the waves tossed it up—I heard it clank on the metal, right next to my foot,” Kyle says.

“Sea glass,” you say, taking the piece between your fingers and turning it in examination. “Must be—god, hundreds of years old.”

Kyle kisses your temple. “Antique, then.”

You lean into him. “Very. It’s a good find…thank you, Kyle.”

You turn in his arms again, the glass protected in one curled hand. He’s smiling at you—satisfied and happy, surveying your face like he’s cataloging every feature, making sure everything he loves is still there. He kisses you again, longer this time, grazing his tongue along the seam of your lips.

“You can find a place for it later, yeah?” he asks, embracing you tighter. Another kiss. “Got somethin’ else for you.”

You snort against his mouth. “Every bloody time, Gaz.”

[amywritesthings]

Do you think that Levi would have allergies? Things didn’t really bloom in the underground and I’m sure coming to the surface and going on missions would be a slap in the face with pollen and everything living 😭

Oh my god that is such a fun question and I never even considered, but I totally think he would have pretty intense seasonal allergies!

In my little canon universe for Levi (my default is always going back to SU!Levi) I'm now picturing Levi Squad accepting he has this really intense morning ritual to get ready for the day, particularly for missions, but they just assume it's him and how he operates -- when in reality Hange's scrounged up some medical supplies for him (in secrecy or so help him) to help aid his extremely bad post-nasal drip in the mornings when the seasons change.

He doesn't talk until he has his first morning tea, but that's because his throat's killing him. (But after a few agonizing cycles of not knowing what the hell was wrong with him, he keeps it under control!)

[themintman]

INTRO POST RAAAAAAH 💥💥💥💥

Erm hihi!! My name is Clemont but I also go by Mint. I am 16 and use he/him pronouns! I post a lot of art n just ramblings here. I will keep updating this post over time, so feel free to check in and see what's new!

I'm also on Tiktok but I don't really post there anymore.. oopsies - @/Clemont_ine

My content will probably change over time, but for the last three or so years I've been feral over Minecraft Story Mode, specifically season two so expect a lot of that lmao.

Expect an ungodly amount of Jack and Nurm. Like an excessive amount. It's not healthy.

Other stuff that may explode into my page every once in a while /interests ⬇️

A hat in time

Deltarune / Undertale

Miitopia

Mcyt (specifically DanTDM)

Spiritfarer

pokemon

Delicious in Dungeon

My asks are open for literally anything!! I love to answer questions about my designs, headcannons, etc. I also take requests and art trades!!! They just may take a while to finish depending on stuff like what you want me to draw, if I'm busy, my mental health, all that stuff. So feel free to say hi! 🩷🩷

I love being social but am too scared to initiate contact, which is what prompted me to start a Tumblr. It seems like a more social app then stuff like Tiktok in my eyes, and the people seem a lot more chill. So if you comment something or repost one of my posts and don't get a response, know that I did see you! I read what you said and likely had a little giggle to myself, just some days being social and talking is harder than others. Also, I ramble in my tags. Like.. a lot.

I have a second blog for my Pokemon IRL stuff! @aerial-ace (may rb this on that blog as an intro of sorts there too LMAO)

My art tag is #clemont_ine but im.. not great at keeping track of it. Sorry 😞. But quite a few drawings are under that!!!

I have an au post now!! Check out all my aus here ⬇️⬇️

Erm... yeah so that's all!!! Again, will update on the occasion. But I'm very glad to be here!!

[serpens-lucis]

THE WRITING BOY. IT WAS SO GOOD I ACTUALLY STARTED CRYING AND SCREAMING THEN I MADE A PINTEREST BOARD AND CONSIDERED RETAKING PIANO. NEVER RECOVERING. FIRST FIC THAT HAS DONE THIS TO ME

AHHHH THANK YOU!! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!!!!

There's a Pinterest board???? Can I see it 👀

Also you should ABSOLUTELY retake piano if you can afford it!!! Being able to play music is such a gift and honestly helps my mental health a lot lol

[marionette-idk]

Trick Or Treat!

party poison is handing you a kitkat! they took a bite before i could stop them. i'm sorry. (they're not.)

Happy halloween!

[gummywyrmtrainer]

🎁 can i request one for The Worm(tm)

She. Doesn't quite know why she ordered this pokeball. Or who this dude even is. But it feeeeeeels like this should go to them. Is it instinct? Is it something else that she can somehow feel, a possible curse, urging her to forfeit this unusual ball to this total stranger?

Or is it just a sick looking pokeball that she can't bring herself to use, so the next person she saw on the street gets it?

Who even knows.

"Hey! Happy Giftmas! Hope you can find a use for this!"

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[trebuchet151]

4 + 9 for your Rook? c:

oh honey you have no idea the magnitude of the can of worms you just opened

Disclaimer: Ithelanas is the product of YEARS of headcanons and my now incorrect assumption there would never actually be a DA4. He's an oc that is being shoved into the role of Rook and idk if any of this will wind up being canon.

His backstory is canon compliant (before veilguard anyway), just....very self indulgent lmao

So

Putting this under a cut bc it's going to be a lot

Warning for obnoxious lore dump and massive spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn't played inquisition and its DLCs

4. Where were they born? Where did they grow up?

Ithelanas was born and raised IN the Tirashan forest. He comes from a group of elves mentioned a few times in the codex, who are heavily implied to worship the forgotten ones. His vallaslin is for Daern'thal.

“During the Exalted Council, Leliana relays to the Inquisitor that she has been receiving reports of "strange elves", resembling in some way the Sentinel elves of the Arbor Wilds, being active in the Tirashan.”  https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Tirashan

“Success: The Forgotten Ones Your soldiers clash with elven archers at the forest's edge. The elves are cold-eyed, with tattoos of brilliant crimson. They extract a red price from your warriors before fleeing into the deeps. For a time, the border is untroubled. "I've fought the Dalish before," mutters a scarred sergeant. "I've heard them call on their gods in battle. Elgar'nan for vengeance. Fen'Harel when they think all is lost. But these ones called out to no gods I've ever heard of before. They weren't calling out for aid; they were offering us up. Like pigs on a platter.'” https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Sylvan_Raids

“The Forgotten Ones belong to the ancient Elven pantheon, but their names were lost after the Great Betrayal. Their worship continued in the shadows, despite efforts to stamp it out in the old Dalish kingdom. This staff belonged to a priest of those gods, specifically Daern'thal.”

https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Pyre_of_the_Forgotten

Daern’thal means “one who brings nightmares”

https://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/post/115789078148/does-the-name-daernthal-actually-mean-something

I think the nightmare demon in the fade at adamant is Daern'thal. Ithelanas's vallaslin is designed after that demon bc of this unhinged pet theory of mine :)

9. Where did they learn their skills? Who trained them?

Ithelanas is a rift mage and a dreamer (he was made as a love interest for my Lavellan, making him a dreamer maximized the angsty parallel between inquisitor Ameridan/Telana and Suli/Lanas). He had a mentor that taught him the fundamentals for awhile that I need to flesh out more character wise, but he learned most of his more advanced magic skills from his mom. He has a great relationship with his former mentor, and a terrible relationship with his mom. She's a kick ass mage and a great teacher though, he learned a lot even if it was traumatizing.

[tricks-n-illusions]

{ @askoinari } So, your one true wish in this whole entire universe is to die, hm? Tragic, pitiful really. All this fuss and a temper tantrum because you couldn’t win mommy’s love? Even your own god does not grant you the peace you so desperately long for, stringing you along like a puppet. Do you honestly think your death will solve all your problems? Knowing your god, they’d probably spite you back to life in the form of a ghost for a laugh, wouldn’t that be ironic? I suppose nobody else would care about your death considering your track record for violence, but what of your No-so-apparent companion here? Wouldn’t they mourn you, at the very least? Judging from your charming nature, probably not! Good luck on your fools’ errand. - Yako

Silas's ears flattened as he backed away from Yako, for the first time it seemed he was fearful of someone. Though you couldn't place why... But, Silas knew, he knew exactly why, it was that damn mask, the posture, the aura, the way their tail seemed to become a wisp. It was like looking at a ghost. Once he realized why Yako scared him Silas couldn't do much but freeze in place and squeeze his eyes shut, hoping they would just leave. His fear response became painfully apparent as the moments passed. All he could muster up was a feeble anxious whimper, maybe that would magically make them spare him from the incoming verbal assault. Then they spoke. It sounded just like her. In his terror it WAS her.

Seance's tone was mocking, something Silas was guilty of doing... or maybe he was just copying her the whole time. Even so, she just quietly hummed in thought, looking over him as she ever so slightly inched closer and closer.

"Even after all these years, you're still chasing after her love? Desperately hoping one day she'll forgive you for all the pain you caused her?" Though Seance's voice was soft, her words were not. "I told you, She doesn't love you and she never will. Why can't you get that through your head?" She paused, giving her words a moment to sink in before she spoke up again. "Silas." She sounded upset. "What did I tell you about not looking at me while I'm talking to you?" He cringed at that but didn't reply.

When he didn't do what she said, she just gave a soft, "Tsk." Well, He always was a coward, of course he didn't have the guts to even look at her. She gently brushed a claw over his face before finally letting go with an annoyed sigh. Despite Seance's words, Yako's voice was still loud and clear, mocking him along with her. Her voice seemed to compliment theirs perfectly.

Seance quickly broke into laughter at the thought of that herself.

"Isn't that right, Little fox?" Truth always hurt. Silas couldn't deny it, Yako was right. Seance was right, every word every insult was right. When tears finally began to well up and Seance's voice faded, Silas found the courage to speak. His voice was soft and faint. A mere whisper compared to the onslaught of words from Yako. "Please..."

Silas's words obviously went unheard. His claws just dug further into his skin, blood beginning to trail down his arm, the moment it finally seemed like Yako was going to stop talking, Silas broke from his fearful trance. In one quick sweeping motion, Silas threw out a Night Slash.

"JUST SHUT UP ALREADY." He shouted. "You have NO right to TALK DOWN to me like I'm beneath you! I AM NOT BENEATH YOU." He sounded unsure. "You don't know who the fuck I am, and I don't think you want to find out. So, Shut the fuck up or I'll make you! I have no fucking problem with killing you right here. Unless you want to be gutted I suggest you FUCK OFF." Silas lowly growled, his teeth bared, a blatant attempt at aggression, though his behaviour portrayed more fear than anything. Yako obviously touched a nerve with his words.

He didn't care. Finally, after everything the tears began to flow, all he could do was sniff and wipe them away. "...Fucking pathetic." He grumbled, his words seemed to be addressed to Yako but it quickly became clear it was for himself.

→ Yako has been added to the relationships page. → Seance has been added to the characters page. → Silas is now injured and will stay that way until he addresses it.

[ Ask from @askoinari ]

[springcatalyst]

📻 for liliana!!

YAYY YIPPEE. GIRL WITH SO MUCH WRONG WITH HER <3<3

it may be 9 minutes long but it's nine minutes of BANGERRRRRR

I have it more towards the end of her playlist (i put them chronologically bcause i am unwell) but it honestly could fit in the beginning too with a slightly different interpretation. BUT.

That first 3 minutes of slow quiet build is grief and betrayal and uncertainty. and then the SONG BEGINS and we get PISSED OFF. It's the slow steady pursuit of What Comes Next. It's dead laser focus and taking back what is yours. Its the flipflop between doubting what all of this is for and reminding yourself that there is nothing else you could possibly do, because doing nothing is simply not an option. It's pulling yourself back out of the pit and getting face to face with what wronged you and saying 'Did you think this would have no consequences?' And also it's got a good lil dose of the legacy of a Name in there which. yeah.

Send me a 📻 and get a song from an oc playlist!

[aecholapis]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Happy Halloween! 🎃

[arcanaaa]

does Cana have a favorite tarot card, or a few of them ? whether to pull for readings, or just because she likes the meaning or by association ( like idk for example THE SUN *side-eyes @ Leo )

Mm that's a good question! I feel like there's a few that she favors based on circumstances, but there's always a few that she gravitates towards that hold a fondness for, mainly for their association and the symbolism behind the card.

The Sun, The Moon, The Star, Death, The Devil and The Lovers are just her favorites from the Major Arcana, there's also a few from the Minor Arcana that she draws from, but overall, the meaning and association of each card is something she kinda drew her own conclusion towards, but also something that Cornelia would have passed on to her, especially when she left her tarot deck to her when she died.

[ar0acejay]

I absolutely LIVE for the hc that Legolas doesn't know shit about how humans work