#the brainrot runs deep

[not-having-an-eldritch-blast]

Has anyone aligned Disney princesses with the Fears yet? Anyway, here's my thoughts:

Anna - Lonely (obviously)

Elsa - Desolation (ironically, but she's most afraid of losing the people she loves)

Rapunzel - Buried (afraid of being trapped)

Belle - The Eye (she keeps getting into Situations because of her curiosity, plus she literally has a magic surveillance mirror)

Mulan- Slaughter? (she's canonically killed people, and it thrives during war)

Ariel... is it a stretch to say Stranger?

[betweentheheavesofstorm]

seeing other people vote for the roman mysteries in that childhood poll has made me nostalgic. Lots to unpack about the depiction of race in the series but for now vote for your favourite plot point

[autisticlancemcclain]

i genuinely meant to write smth short there’s deadass smth wrong w me

[ozziesjester]

plagued with thoughts of giving soup a post covid design

[bunsuuu]

[Caught]

I. Am. Indulging

Anatomy is real bad but it was almost 2 am, I do not care. I might redraw it eventually when I actually want to (I most likely will when the brainrot gets too bad again, give or take in a week 😩)

Besides, I just drew that for sillies

And because I can

[all-the-random-books]

I made my candy cane reindeer this year Bingqiu. ❤️💚

[artofdoubt]

[hordeofangrybees]

To add to this thought I give you this

"We have a problem. Alastor is getting close to little princess Morningstar, so our main concern now is ensuring that no deal is ever struck between Lucifer's *slams the table* BRAT and that smiling freak!"

Why is that the main concern?

The general consensus seems to be that he needs Charlie's favor to get out of his deal. And Vox's main concern is making sure that doesn't happen?

And when their plan with Pentious fails. Al seems acutely aware that this stunt was for him.

Why am I convincing myself of this?

I think there is a world in which alastors deal is with the Vees/Vox

"Someone who owes us much more than money"

Disappeared after "he almost beat you(vox)"

Season 2 is literally confirmed to be about the vees and alastors relationship with vox/how Vox being the main threat affects alastor.

I don't think it's a high chance. But I do think it's a non-zero chance. Fuck if I know what the deal would be. But it couldn't be too far reaching?

Either way. Putting it out into the void just in case.

[serafilms]

the golden quartet

art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader, wc: 2k

author’s note: basically just a way less toxic (?) version of the movie with the reader inserted. they’re all still incredibly codependent and tashi/reader are very much in love and art/patrick are very much in love and art/tashi have their own kind of friendship/relationship and so do patrick/reader, but really patrick and tashi are one couple, art and reader are another couple, but like they would all live together and probably sleep in the same bed hypothetically. but in a healthy way. i like to imagine a world where they’re all codependent but skip all the “villain” allegations in their mess, and it’s just a beautiful unspoken symphony of love and four-way fidelity and infidelity. will probably write more in this universe.

part two here

“Tashi, stop it.”

Tashi stops and her eyes lock in on you, racket dropping to her side. “Stop what?”

You watch the way she bounces the ball a few times and don’t miss the way her gaze keeps flitting to your hand.

“Stop analysing me.”

She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, and doesn’t break your gaze. “It’s my job to analyse the opponent so I know how to win the game.”

“Yeah, but you’re not looking at me like an opponent.” Your lips purse. “You’re looking at me like you’re trying to calculate how to get me back on the court.”

“You’re on the court right now, aren’t you?”

“You know what I mean, Tashi.” Your racket falls to the court exasperatedly and you manage a step towards the net. “It’s over for me, I’m done playing tennis and I’m okay with that, but I’m not sure that you are.”

There’s just a tiny quiver in her eyes before her gaze steels itself again and she nods. “Fine. I get it.”

She tosses you the ball. “Just help me train.”

You watch as Tashi gets into position, and pick up your racket slowly. Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped at her. You so rarely do, but you’ve closed the door on that chapter of your life now, and you’re sick of her trying to pry it open. You don’t want possibilities of what you could have had. You don’t want to put in more years just to watch yourself fail at something you never really liked in the first place.

There’s a dull ache in your chest as you serve the ball.

Tashi Duncan has been your best friend for five years. For the life of you, you can’t remember the details of the tournament you were at, but you had a game against her. It was electrifying. You’d never played tennis like that before. It felt like you’d never known what it was like to breathe before Tashi Duncan. She basically crushed you, but you managed to get in a good few points, had the audience and line judges on the edge of their seats, and at the end of it, when you shook her hand, you felt like you’d just discovered a missing limb.

She found you afterwards in the stands and sat with you to spectate the next few matches. And hadn’t let you go since. You couldn’t imagine a life without Tashi. She was there for your first boyfriend, she was there when you broke up with him, she was there when you failed a class and your parents threatened to pull you out of tennis, and she was there when your wrist shattered and you quit.

Tashi never really understood why it was so easy for you to walk away. “You’re one of the best,” “You have so much potential,” “You can learn to play with your other hand.”

She never seemed to hear you when you said you didn’t want to play anymore. She’d look at you, with her piercing gaze then look away and move on. But the conversation was never over. It was like you didn’t exist to her without tennis, like it was your one achievement, and she couldn’t gauge who you were without it.

You suppose you were flattered, touched even, that she cared so much about you, in her own weird way.

Tashi looks at you questioningly when you lower your racket. You smile, “You should rest up. Your drills are perfect. You’re gonna crush her tomorrow.”

She takes a look at her watch, then nods. You can tell she wants to stay longer, but there’s really no reason to. Especially when you can feel her itching for a real match. That you can’t give her.

You bump her shoulder as the two of you walk out. “Wanna grab some donuts?”

The unimpressed face she gives you makes you laugh. “Come on, we can get you one of those healthy ones. The gluten-free, vegan bullshit.”

“Sounds delicious,” she drawls, but makes no further comments. You grin. A success.

She says nothing as you swing your borderline crippled arm over her shoulder, but you feel her muscles underneath relax just a little bit.

The following day brings a new round of pretentious young assholes on the court. Some of them eye you up as you make your way into the bleachers, whispering to each other. A girl comes up to you and asks for a picture. You’re a little surprised, and feel a little blindsided, but you suppose it’s only been a year since your injury. And well, considering where you are right now, it sure does seem to the rest of the world like you’re not fully done with tennis.

“Yeah, no problem,” you say with a smile.

The girl takes the picture, thanks you profusely then leaves, and you make your way up to the bleachers, and find a nice spot in the middle. Tashi liked you to be right in the middle of the game so you could watch her and her opponent. You wonder if she’s secretly preparing you to become an umpire.

There’s a flurry of whispers all too close to you, and then there’s a shadow blocking the sun to your left.

Two boys stand facing you, staring at you with their mouths slightly agape. You can’t help the amused smile that splits your face.

“Can I help you?”

The brunet snaps back into reality first. “Sorry, we were just— are you Y/N L/N?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say, eyes flitting between the two. They’re cute. Really cute.

The blond shakes his head slightly, like he’s coming out of a trance, and says, “Sorry, this is just the first time we’ve seen or heard about you since….you know.”

He winces, and his head ducks a little like a scolded puppy. “Sorry to hear about that, by the way.”

You let out a laugh that seems to catch his attention again. His friend jabs him in the side with his elbow. “Oh, don’t worry about it, seriously. It’s been a year, I’m over it.”

“Huh,” he says, nodding a little absently. He glances to the brunet, who’s just grinning at him. “Um, by the way, we’re—“

“Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig, right?”

The blond, Art, looks a little speechless.

Patrick chimes in. “Yeah, that’s us.”

“I watched your game just before. That was quite some victory celebration.”

The way Art’s ears turn red makes you happier than you’d like to admit. There’s a little flip in your stomach as he fumbles, “Yeah, well…”

There’s a flurry of movement as Patrick puts his arm around Art’s neck and pulls him impossibly close in a one armed hug. “Social conduct’s not gonna get in the way of me celebrating with my boy.”

The blond leans away and fights to get Patrick off him, and you smile as you watch. “Don’t worry, it was cute. Plus, I get it. We’re sort of the same way sometimes when it comes to victories. I mean, not the same, but you know.”

That seems to catch Patrick’s attention. “By we, do you mean you and—“

“Tashi Duncan!”

The announcement rings loud and clear through the speakers as she walks onto the court.

It’s almost comical the way Patrick’s jaw goes slack and he slumps onto the seat behind him.

You watch as Tashi waves at her screaming fans, shoots her winning smiles and makes her way to her side. She catches your gaze for a moment and you nod. She looks away and begins to stretch, but you’re not bothered. She knows you’re here, and that’s all you need. Can’t try and take Tashi Duncan out of the zone.

As you sit down, you’re a little surprised to find Art mirroring the action, still looking at you. “So, you’re best friends with Tashi Duncan?”

You nod. “Since we were like, thirteen.”

“Oh wow,” his eyes widen and you can’t help but think how impossibly cute he looks, “that’s almost how long Patrick and I have been friends.”

“Really? Oh, wow.” There’s a beat of silence, just long enough for you to catch each other’s eye and look away with awkward giggles.

Luckily, that’s when the match starts. And your focus locks in.

“COME ON!” Tashi’s scream is palpable in the air.

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. You’ve heard it a million times before, but it never fails to strike you.

There’s something akin to awe in Patrick’s eyes. Art looks like he’s in disbelief.

You can’t help but agree with their faces.

“So, are you guys coming to the party tonight?”

Patrick’s eyes flit away from Tashi’s to look at you. “Yeah, we were just talking about earlier. Art was saying how excited he was. He just loves parties.”

You can’t quite decipher the smirk on his face, but he looks like the kind of guy who’s never up to any good, so you turn to Art expectantly.

His eyes meet yours and your stomach does another little flip as he says, “Yeah, I’ll— we’ll be there.”

“Cool,” you reply. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

You manage one quick glance back as you walk away, and see Patrick grinning and shaking Art’s shoulders. A smile plays at the corner of your lips and you leave.

Tashi finds you at your agreed-upon meeting spot, and wastes no time in grabbing your hand. “Come on.”

“Don’t you need to take pictures with your trophy?”

“Got a few, they’ll take more at the Adidas party. We’ve got to get ready.”

There’s a warm feeling like sunlight dancing in your chest as you let her drag you away.

The party is in full swing by the time you finally spot Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig lurking in the corner of the yard.

You’d just stepped off the dance floor for a moment, telling Tashi you were going to get another drink. The two boys seem to be arguing about something, but as you close the distance, you can see that they’re grinning too.

“Hey,” you greet the two. Their heads turn towards you in unison and they both stand up straight.

“Hi,” they chorus.

You take a sip of your drink as your eyes flit between the two. “So….what are you guys doing all the way over here?”

“You know,” Art says dryly. “Just enjoying the ambience.”

(Cute and funny. Man, you’re screwed).

“It’s a lot less creepy if you actually talk to her instead of just staring at her.” Your words are directed at Patrick, whose eyebrows shoot up. A smirk falls on his face. His charm instantly covers up the awkwardness.

Art barks out a laugh. (It’s a sound you wish you could inscribe in your mind).

“What makes you think I’m here for her?” Patrick smirks, looking you up and down. It’s so clearly a deflection, but it feels so natural that you can’t help but smile, and you feel your cheeks warm just a tad.

You glance back at the dance floor, and see Tashi excuse herself, glancing at you as she goes for her drink. You reach over to pat him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”

As you turn on your heel and walk towards Tashi, you hear a slap behind you and an, “Ow!”

“Tashi!” The smile in your voice is audible as she looks up.

“Hey,” she smiles back.

Then, her head tilts to the side and she looks at the boys. “Hi.”

“Hi,” they both say.

There’s a quiet moment in which you all exchange looks, a twinkle in each of your eyes. You can almost feel a spark of something in the air, and suddenly you’re thirteen years old again, meeting Tashi for the first time. Like another puzzle piece has finally fallen into place.

You feel your chest warm. If only you knew what your life was about to become.

[wtftaylr]

here have some Sadie Knox (my Courier Six) infodumping bc i am insane abt her rn

Sandra "Sadie" Knox / 5'2" / 34

Sandra Knox isn't her birth name, she got her first and last name separately from books she's read over the years.

Sadie is a scientist who worked as a courier and an overcharging con-artist repairman to save up caps to fund her research. She carries a notebook with her at all times, always scribbling down notes as it helps her think and process information.

Sadie is morally gray; a bit selfish and tunnel-visioned in her ways. Once Sadie has a goal, big or small, she’ll stop at nothing to achieve whatever it is. She has a unique way with words and can get you into trouble and out of it in the same sentence. This skill has saved her ass an insurmountable amount of times.

Due to her borderline extreme goal-contentedness, despite caring for those she loves and keeps close to her, she often comes off distant. Sadie has always had a rough time showing that she cares and her gestures can come off as awkward or forced. Her autism might be (is) partially to blame for this lol. Those willing to work past this awkwardness and allow her to adjust are rewarded with a ride or die friend for life.

She's got a reserve of pent-up rage. Though she can be quite irritable from minor conveniences [ex: she drops a pencil on the ground > emotional dysregulation from adhd rises > she's LIVID- ok she's fine now], she's not one to lash out at someone she loves. Her rage is kept internal and it weighs heavily on her shoulders.

Once speaking to Yes Man [before confronting Benny], she figures trying to get in on Benny's scheme is the opportunity she's been waiting for -- the prospect of a steady flow of caps excites her.

Oh and after her visit to BIG MT, she decides to help the Doctors by occasionally bringing them Mojave shit to research.

Sadie: look at the size of this legendary deathclaw hand. These things are large and terrifying, and despite the best efforts, nests continue to pop u-- Dr. Borous: the size of that hand.... Dr. Borous: it reminds me of my time in AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL, when RICHIE MARCUS took his HAND to my FACE and BEAT ME SENSELESS behind the school. the AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL-- Sadie: [patiently waiting bc she doesnt know when, or if, it is appropriate to intervene]

[big1ron]

OH HELL NAH. FUCK TUMBLR POST SHORTENING. I WILL FORCE YOU TO LOOK AT MY ART, BOY.

Redraw of that one post. I plan to do more with this eventually.

[zadig-fate]

Why are other Europeans reblogging this at 3am, go to bed guys

✨✨🕊️On the sunny side of London you're as free as a dove🕊️✨✨

I hope the guys really do get to enjoy their freedom and relative anonymity in London to try new things and explore their own identities as people and as artists in ways they couldn't at home 🥺🥺🥺

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[grassiestgnoll]

maybe this will get me killed, but I immediately thought of plaidweave when my friend showed me Taylor's outfit

[ratinayellowbandana]

there’s something deeply ironic about using the laudna amongus skin and being the impostor

[thegreencarousel]

Baptiste can't resist giving Hanzo a kiss; especially when he looked so peaceful after his meditation sessions, and even so when peace is a very rare look for Hanzo.