#the big three just pulled up

[makuta-kotok]

A Pioneer, a Helldiver, and a Dwarf walk into a moon…

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 205

Now let it be said that not a single one of their team (“Does it count as a team if it’s just the three of us?” “Um, what about the Superman clone here??” “Four was the same number of the original League, so yeah we’re a team!”) were expecting to stumble across much of anything deeper in the Cadmus Labs. 

They’d already discovered- and released- the super secret super-boy clone after all, so that was the big thing discovered and taken care of! Only they had uh, found something else, another tube even deeper with the room practically frozen, while trying to find the way out. 

Now normally, opening the big tube would be a bad idea! But they had a bunch of creatures and security and whoever else on their tails, and hey, why not fight fire with fire and escape while everything was distracted? 

Only when things start to defrost they- the sidekicks who are not sidekicks thanks- are really alarmed and starting to worry about what the fuck is inside. Because the cryogenic-liquid-whatever tube is way bigger than they thought, and the files that Robin hacked refers to whatever is inside as a quote, potentially world-ending dangerous entity. 

And it’s not even fully defrosted before it starts to break free. One clawed hand- and then another, and another and another- grip onto the broken material, green dripping from where tubes were shrugged free. Its hair shifts and weaves in the air as though underwater, opalescent and each strand shimmering a different color. 

It’s absolutely massive, humanoid with long tapered ears and a cacophony of differently shaped horns floating above its head. They’re wary, suddenly remembering every single lecture about dangerous unknowns as it shakes the liquid from a body that appears almost scaled, eight arms easily lifting itself so that it may step out. 

They’re also suddenly reminded of the danger they’re in from other things when there’s a crash against the door, like one of those gynomorph tank things had slammed against it. It also causes the being’s head to snap up from where they were seemingly watching the liquid pool beneath them, nine eyes opening from their previously half-lidded position. 

A deep rumbling noise echoed around the room as it stopped slouching, showing just how tall it was while three tails lashed in what was obviously some sort of agitation. When they speak, it’s not in any language the three of them know, but Superboy’s head snaps from the door towards them, eyes suddenly wide in child-like wonder. 

(“Oh! It’s a baby~”)

Why yes, Even more of Tiamat Class Prompts- but Humanoid!

[ropes3amthoughts]

😱😱😱

[mondaymelon]

guess which boyfailure just broke down crying in a culver's !!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

[pkmoth]

having swap au thoughts. *slaps roof of claus* there's so much mental illness in this guy. im gonna blow up everyone in the room and then myself

[sskk-manifesto]

Next time we should just skip over ep 3 and do a chapters 84-87 reread

[kuromi-hoemie]

lol i love how yesterday morning i was like “i love nightmares pls send me one” and i had 3 back to back 💀

*hesitantly* i ... i love nightmares..? send me one... once a week? no, twice a week

[belethlegwen]

The Rescue - Chp 54 - That Dark Old Friend [+ Life Update]

Hey there everyone!

So sorry about the delay in updates since the Christmas season, there's a lot of shit to blame for it and I'll get into it in more detail, but in short this was a wildly busy Christmas season where I had 0 time to write between work and family stuff from like, November-end of December, and then a whole lot of house shit started happening and I've been unbelievably stressed since just before New Years.

Longer details and stuff below the cut for people who are interested, but in short the important details are:

Updates to works on AO3 may be at random times with long delays between for the coming year. Can't be sure, but for now that's how things are looking while I have way too much shit going on IRL.

Please enjoy this little chapter for now, and if you're up for a long winding journey about why it felt like all of my hair has been falling out for two weeks, meet me below <3

So the Christmas season at my job was wildly busy, on top of that there's some issues going on there between the business owner I rent space from and the person who owns the building. It's a mess, for a while it looked like/still kinda looks like we're going to have some major issues with the lot clearing what with winter being a major issue where I live in the Frozen Nor'Atlantic. That was all bad enough.

I had been told back in the fall by my landlord, who I've been renting from for 10 years now, that her mortgage was up for renewal in January and that it looked like it was going to go up a hot amount. Rates are super fucking high in Canada right now, shit's bad, the mortgage specialist at the bank I was talking to yesterday said that it's bad enough they legitimately expect the government to be stepping in soon to do something about it before it's a crisis (or more of a crisis because personally, it's already a fucking crisis and has been, but I digress). She warned me the rent was going to have to go up, I told her I expected it, I knew it was going to happen, she's been amazing to me for 10 years, if it's gotta go up it's gotta go up, I get it.

This past fall is when my partner Zip came to visit for 6 weeks and we got engaged, and when we started to plan to move them up here so we could start immigration and the like, which we were aiming to do for the beginning of this summer.

So as we're gearing up to New Year's and everything, I am expecting to deal with the start of immigration application readying, and expecting rent to increase. December 27th, I got a message from the landlord that uh, someone wants to buy the house (as an investment property and keep the renters) and despite her best efforts to try and bounce around and get a lower mortgage rate, it didn't work out and she's going to have to sell either way. So we suddenly had to get the house ready to be listed and viewed.

Viewings were fucking hell, by the way. While priority for accepting the offer was going to someone who wanted to take the property over and keep the renters in place, Real Estate agents just want the fucking sale, so being in my home while people are wandering around it scaring my cats and talking about how my bedroom was going to be the kid's room and my office was going to be turned into something else? Shit time, don't recommend. Not to mention the agents that were showing up half-hour not just away of their own scheduled appointment but a half hour outside of when viewings were actually permitted to happen.

I'm glad we have such high paying careers available for people who are, apparently, fucking illiterate, but I was getting extremely rude to agents and their desperation for a sale by the end of it. Someone tried to show up yesterday after a offer was accepted literally the night before and we sent them packing fine enough, but now anytime the rain hits the gutters too hard I think someone is walking into my home so that's fun.

We have signs all over the house about keeping doors closed to keep the cats inside, including one on the back door (where it isn't an enclosed porch) that says in extremely large lettering Access To Patio From Outside ONLY, and there were still at least two agents that opened the back door, so. Nightmares all around.

An offering has been accepted, the person who is hopefully going to buy wants to keep us as tenants, and I'm locked in a lease until later this year anyway. Things are at least, as of yesterday when I got the confirmation that an offer was in that stage, stable now that I didn't throw up this morning. Hooray! It's been hell. I can not stress enough that this has been hell.

It still leaves the later part of the year up in the air a lot, because new landlord may still want us out at the end of the lease of whathaveyou, and between now and then I am flying down to America to drive across that wild country with a car full of stuff to move my fiancee here, then we gonna get immigration rolling and the employment switchover and everything else. My Dad has been a massive rock for me during this time in terms of trying to keep me level, and as he says: "this is all just one-step-at-a-time things. You're just keeping ducks in a row".

And as I keep saying: "Yeah but I've got a lot of fuckin' ducks, man."

So that's the kind of thing that's in the air right now for me. Lots and lots of stuff going on. I'm still picking away at writing but to make things easier on myself, I'm going to not stress about any kind of schedule or the like right now and just play with whatever flows come when I have them and have the time/ability to focus on them in the few quiet moments I have between all of the other stuff.

Much love to all of you, thank you all again as always for the wonderful comments you've all left, the kudos, the people who reached out, all of it. You're wonderful <3

Take care of yourselves out there,

~ Belle

[novadorks]

finally finished orv after two years . . . what do i do with my life now

[gottagetshiver]

I wanna write so bad but I feel like death so instead I’m having sofa rotting time with a Labrador laying all her body weight on my chest

[sysig]

Sizing chart of cute: One Size Fits All (Patreon)

[dirt-str1der]

Knows that im going into heat because im thinking about him again

[holographicbutch]

Full of so much rage and hate right now but all I can do is sit about it and that makes me even angrier

[inbabylontheywept]

so my highschool was huge, and for god knows what reason, cross country was super popular. at my highschool of maybe 6000 kids we have close to 750 cross country runners. we needed four or five busses to take us to meets. it was absolutely fucking insane.

anyway, i have this core memory of us running as this big, thundering herd down the main stroad of my hometown, and this one car had inched up pretty far past the stop sign to try and see around the car, and the guy leading our group decided, for god knows what reason, to open this big car's passenger door, scooch across the back three seats, and pop out the other side.

but then the guy behind him did the same, and we all just decided, why not, so we all did, and there was this old guy yelling at us but he couldn't just pull away because there was this unending 750 person long conga line of overheated hyperventilating sweat slick scrawny mormon kids slithering all over his leather seats and if hed tried to pull away at any point after the first guy he'd have kidnapped at least three of em.

for bonus points this guy lived in the area, and every time we ran past him he'd just lay on the horn, but to get back at him wed run into neighborhoods that we saw him enter and wed make these giant congo lines at crosswalks and shit just to fuck with him. we tormented that man.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.

[rustinsscohles]

and with that i do believe that my run with interstellar in imax has come to an end.