#that should be a quote chat

[jankydem]

Quincy sketches..

“Kenji.. DID YOU JUST EAT THE MCDONALDS HASHBROWN WRAPPER?!”

The way I can imagine Quincy, Mitzuki and Yasuyuki taking Kenji to McDonald’s for the first time in his life for breakfast and his ass did NOT understand the assignment and he just.. ate the wrapper. Somehow. For some reason.

[whyhowdythereextras]

apollo justice and phoenix wright text leak

[xxplastic-cubexx]

was watching apocalypse with my brother and once the cerebro scene popped up he was like 'charles has a helmet like erik, only instead of keeping people out, he tries to reach out and connect with others' like guys i need to bash him with a rock

[feroluce]

Thinking today of henghill on some cold planet, one like Jarilo-VI or wherever, and Dan Heng getting his tongue stuck on some metal part of Boothill's VSKJSNSJD

Like Dan Heng is stuck to his neck, so Boothill has to pick him up and carry him to try to sneak them around to somewhere warm to thaw his tongue out. Don't worry, poor Dan Heng is just tired, that's why he's carrying him like this, no no he's fine don'tlookthatcloselybye!!

(Also Boothill is carrying Dan Heng bridal style. Obviously.)

And now, I get to show you all @hydrachea 's newest blessing upon this ship, because she took that and RAN WITH IT-

Crying imagining Dan Heng still stuck and trying to throttle Boothill to keep him from talking anymore JSJIZJSKKE

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Jade: they should add aliens to war thunder so i can run them over

Karkat: THEY SHOULD ADD ALIENS TO WAR THUNDER SO SOMEONE WILL LEAK THE CLASSIFIED DOCUMENTS PROVING THAT THEY EXIST

[gralunaisland]

An Insult to juvia's (Lack of) Intelligence

*Lucy and Gray happily eating lunch together* juvia, across the guild hall: ohhh Gray-samaaaaaaa Gray: quick hide me juvia: *flounces over* Lucy, deadpan: sorry, Gray's not here at the moment juvia: *watches Gray unsuccessfully struggle to fit under the tiny table* you blonde bimbo, he's right there! Gray: *muffled* no i'm not Lucy, still deadpan: no he's not

[3-2-whump]

i'm messing around with an incorrect quote generator (takes quotes from shows and movies and replaces the names i give it, it's hilarious, because it's sometimes very in character) so here are some for the Eternal guys <<3

😂😂😂

Oh man, I’m gonna be thinking about this for a while now, thanks for the laughs! Great way to start the morning

[hyperfocusthusly]

Aziraphale: you remind me of the ocean

Crowley: because I’m wild, free and deeply unknowable?

Aziraphale: because you’re salty and you scare people

[ataraxianne]

Ladybug blocked him after this

[remythologise]

bestie… what’s the 600k incomplete merlin fic please drop the title

SO glad you asked and also I misspoke. It is actually 871k. THE HANDS OF A HUNDRED WINTERS by FOURLEGGEDFISH. It is in four parts and you both can and should read it despite being incomplete, I have only read 3/4 parts because I am loathe to part with the reading experience of writing this good. This is both my favourite Merlin fic I've ever read and potentially my favourite longfic I've ever read (though hard to assess when it's incomplete and I haven't read it all as yet). It's AMAZING to me that the author has managed to sustain and even increase my interest over this many words, a feat managed by no other fanfiction I've read longer than 400k words ever (and I read a lot of those!). Don't get me wrong it's not perfect, and I do have minor scruples with some things*! I also don't think it's for everyone, my dear friend didn't like it and found it too dark for her personal tastes. But for ME? SPECIFICALLY FOR ME? To quote something I said to my friends 'wells for boys, lads, wells for fucking boys.' I also think it's so immaculately beautifully written that even if it's not your personal cup of tea you should read it anyway. ALSO the sheer dazzling breadth of research that went into this fic is REMARKABLE. I am not joking when I say this author has achieved everything I want to achieve as a writer in this fic. In many ways this is Ur Merlin Fic. The Once and Future Fic. To Me!

*I have minor scruples with almost every fic I've ever read and frankly remarkable how few scruples occur with a fic on this size. There are also scruples I had with things like tone, characterisation or even sex scenes that were then resolved with plot explanations that made sense a mere half a million words later in a quite satisfying way. This fic is a masterpiece in how it threads things like that through and pays them off very handsomely. I know how much blood sweat and tears goes into creating fanfic and I am overwhelmed by the skill, love and zillions of hours that must have gone into crafting this. Nothing but respect for such an incredible piece of art.

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[bastardbvby]

waaaah dbsmp was one of the best things to come out of dtblr man

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat i think im gonna be sick

(Powers of X #6)

[diltonsstrangescience]

[hexenwrites]

Chad: YOU CHEATED! Carlos: So did my dad, but hey, my mom knew it all and even sorted out their wedding, so what's the problem? Mal: I… can confirm that that actually happened. Chad: …What.

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Defeating Windigo - final chapter Braiding Sweetgrass

The snow hisses against the window, the wind moans in the trees. He has come, followed my tracks home just as I knew he would. I put the sweetgrass in my pocket, take a deep breath, and open the door. I’m afraid to do this, but more afraid of what happens if I don’t.

He looms above me, wild red eyes blazing against the hoar frost of his face. He bares his yellow fangs and reaches for me with his bony hands.

My own hands tremble as I thrust into his bloodstained fingers a cup of scalding buckthorn tea. He slurps it down at once and starts to howl for more— devoured by the pain of emptiness, he always wants more. He pulls the whole iron kettle from me and drinks it in greedy gulps, the syrup freezing to his chin in dripping black icicles. Throwing the empty pot aside, he reaches for me again, but before his fingers can surround my neck he turns from the door and staggers backward out into the snow.

I see him doubled over, overcome with violent retching. The carrion stench of his breath mixes with the reek of shit as the buckthorn loosens his bowels. A small dose of buckthorn is a laxative. A strong dose is a purgative, and a whole kettle, an emetic. It is Windigo nature: he wanted every last drop. So now he is vomiting up coins and coal slurry, clumps of sawdust from my woods, clots of tar sand, and the little bones of birds. He spews Solvay waste, gags on an entire oil slick. When he’s done, his stomach continues to heave but all that comes up is the thin liquid of loneliness.

He lies spent in the snow, a stinking carcass, but still dangerous when the hunger rises to fill the new emptiness. I run back in the house for the second pot and carry it to his side, where the snow has melted around him. His eyes are glazed over but I hear his stomach rumble so I hold the cup to his lips.

He turns his head away as if it were poison. I take a sip, to reassure him and because he is not the only one who needs it. I feel the medicines standing beside me. And then he drinks, just a sip at a time of the golden-pink tea, tea of Willow to quell the fever of want and Strawberries to mend the heart. With the nourishing broth of the Three Sisters and infused with savory Wild Leeks, the medicines enter his bloodstream: White Pine for unity, justice from Pecans, the humility of Spruce roots. He drinks down the compassion of Witch Hazel, the respect of Cedars, a blessing of Silverbells, all sweetened with the Maple of gratitude. You can’t know reciprocity until you know the gift. He is helpless before their power.

His head falls back, leaving the cup still full. He closes his eyes. There is just one more part of the medicine. I am no longer afraid. I sit down beside him on the newly greening grass. “Let me tell you a story,” I say as the ice melts away. “She fell like a maple seed, pirouetting from the autumn sky-"