#the world will spontaneously combust

[mxltifxnd0m]

guys mari is back and the world is healing

[quicksilverdaisyday]

you guys have no idea how much i love stephen and knives’ dynamic

bonus, AKA How Stephen Should Have Reacted Upon Finding Out That Scott Was Dating A Highschooler, AKA Say Your Fucking Prayers You Stupid Ginger:

[first-class-feral]

Slow day... dropping this Brad Dourif chaos compilation back in the Enclosure

YouTube poster Abbi, you are a legend. Recently rediscovered this and lost my shit all over again

[callmeend]

I NEED razzle and dazzle

They are EVERYTHING

They TOOK OVER MY ART

Chat chat chat chat chat chat chat ughhh

It’s comingggg our

Oytttsgsgs

Hits the bars of my cage

I’m sorry, I done this post like 6 times

[mongoosemisc]

@iam-zim49 is reading a dramatic crossover fanfic about the death of the universe to me, send help

[miodiodavinci]

(single loud AA) (the forest goes silent immediately after) (birdsong returns moments later)

[somewandomnoob]

here's a weird au idea

so what-if Iron Man: Armored Adventures, X-Men: Evolution, and Spetacular Spider-Man (note that I've only watched a few episodes of Amored Adventures and I think I may of watched a few episodes of Spectacular Spider-Man when I was younger, but you can't be sure.)

They're all teenage aus (again, note that Spectacular Spider-Man still would've kinda counted as a teenage au, as at the time, the movies had Peter in college. Take that with a grain of salt as I haven't watched any of the Raimi trilogy.) that were all released during the 2000s. They don't really connect in any way, except in small refrences (I'm pretty sure I've heard online that in one of the episodes of X-Men: Evolution, theres a sign saying "Stark Enterprises" on it.), but who cares!

I call this, the Teenageverse!

[tarn-ati0n]

Ok i just did some googling uh. Wow. Tarn I wish I could give you a hug rn that sounds intense, you just gotta have faith it'll be okay in the end 🫂 stay strong dude

There's still time till march. The AFD can still be banned. There's always a chance they don't win the election. We got a few months.

[witchering10123]

do you reckon yue still eats fish in the spirit world or is that cannibalism

[reaperseal-archive]

i’ve made a staggering amount of sweet wonderful mutuals this year MWAH <3

[sailforvalinor]

Gamers: “Ugh I hate it when open world games start hand-holding and won’t quit bothering you about where you need to go next. I don’t need a map taking up half the screen or a glowy path marker telling me where to go, I can figure it out for myself, thanks”

Me: “Please. Please hold my hand. You don’t understand, I get lost driving to the grocery store in the town I’ve been living in for the past ten years”

[balladetto]

reasons to cup a face / always accepting / @nihlkahn

BELIEF, in a moment where the receiver is lacking in self-confidence, the sender cups their face tenderly and professes their faith in the receiver's abilities.

     Remembering only comes in two ways for Link.

     Mercifully. Bitingly. Sometimes, it's and that anchors them to each other. Sometimes, it's or that separates them. Tonight, it's then that connects how the memories visit him — and in some part, he really shouldn't have expected otherwise.

     The fairy fountain they'd stumbled upon had been a pleasant shock with how far from Hyrule's borders they were. Link had cupped little sprite after little sprite within his palms, delighted by the familiarity of wings fluttering a tooth's gap from his fingers and gossamer dust sprinkled on his skin. None of them were Navi — had Navi's shine, or her colour, or her voice, or her recognition — but that was fine. That was fine. It was an adjacent kind of wistful relief at having found anything at all that had his heart swelling with something close to hope.

     As he startles awake with a desperate cry, ears ringing from the silence of a cruel farewell, his heart tears through the flesh of his lungs and pounds imprints on the bars of his ribs.

     His hands are what he registers first. One twisted in the blanket covering him, the other unthinkingly extended towards the next thing that pierces through the sleep-haze. Link inhales sharply and pulls away from the figure crouched over him, scrambling upright and a small distance back.

     How bad must his dream have looked for the Fierce Deity to thread together this tangible form? Bad, the shadows on that marked face tell him — really bad, the heat stinging his eyes and the soreness of a lip bitten clean through correct. He presses the back of a hand to his mouth, swallowing what blood's been drawn, and lets the quiet hanging in the space between them fester like a blistering sore.

     "Ss-orry," he finally blurts out. "Sorry," he repeats a beat later, then again, and again. He doesn't know what he needs to keep apologising for. But when his companion shifts — just some slight adjustment of his posture — there's a sudden, staggering fear that Link will be left alone if he stops.

     "Nno, don'—" The hand at his chin jerks forward, darts back. "Don' g-go. Sorry. Sorry, mm— I'll be—"

     Better. I'll be better. He stills, clarity coldly cleaving through the snapshot of an unreachable light in his mind's eye.

     Link folds over himself. Folds into himself. He takes each raw, pulsating wound tonight's nightmare has unburied and pushes them beneath the layer of indifference he's reapplying over every inch of his skin, trying to force his breaths into a measured pace. It works enough that he can redirect his words, and even smile — however strained — as he looks up and shakes his head. "Sorry. I'll...be...fine."

     He forgets, in his distress, that this god is the only thing alive who's seen every crack splintering his soul.

     Warmth washes over his face, radiating from hands hovering a hair's breadth away from his cheeks. These are hands that want to hold him safe. They are hands that seem to only ever want to hold him safe. Link feels his efforts to recover some manner of composure unravel at the thought: his smile crumples, his pulse picks up. The prickling behind his eyes worsens as he meets his companion's steady, pale gaze.

     Tentatively, helplessly, he nods.

     The Deity's touch is softer than he's ever felt it. Careful, almost delicate, and when Link doesn't react beyond a quiver of his lips, they press a hint firmer until sensation blooms over his scalp and down his neck. He has to stifle a fractured noise as tears leak past the corners of his waterlines, dripping in rivulets to where those thumbs meet his cheeks.

     He's vaguely aware that something is being said. It's so hard to focus on the words when all he can do is drink in the security he hasn't been able to feel so, so keenly in so, so long. For a fragile moment, Link wonders what this care must look like — what kind of picture they're painting over the backdrop. He wonders, if they were in some town or village or anywhere but out here where it's only the two of them, what would set them apart from the scenery he's begun noticing since the Deity's stayed with him through many awful days and many awful nights.

     What would set them apart from a child getting their scraped knees cleaned by the fountain? What would set them apart from an adult kneeling to lift someone so much smaller? What, if anything, would set them apart from sights he once thought less than nothing of — and now finds some measure of understanding in?

     The moment persists. It lasts through the sound of more words he can't pinpoint, in the quiet tones of someone who could be that concerned, someone who could be that fond. He places feather-light fingers over the Deity's knuckles. His companion says his name the way it used to be cradled on tongues from an old home and the steady branches of an old tree.

     Link shuts his eyes, leans into the comfort of hands so tender in spite of the unfathomable things they've done-can do-will do, and weaves together imaginings of a world where a father might be something he can have.

[maxxzophone]

Wild totally random question but how do u feel about the daycare attendant

Oh I kind of like them just a little bit eh

[seraymerichateblog]

i had a nice christmas with my family i wish i didnt have work tomorrow or i’dve spent the night :/

[manyiterators-constantsuffering]

Spontaneous Combustion

(He/They)

Spontaneous Combustion is a bit of a strange iterator. He never truly put substantial processing power into solving the Great Problem, and ceased any processes related to it the moment he could. They prefer to search after any and all sources of knowledge they can get, learning for the sake of learning.

They are afflicted by a strange condition that causes their Neuronflies to explode when removed from their superstructure, and also makes their neuronflies fly into a frenzy when beings attempt to grab them, which causes them immense pain.

There is a tribe of scavengers living near and on them that, as of late, often try to steal his neuronflies, causing said attacks to be far more frequent. Luckily, he has his modified slugcats The Inspector and The Wisp to chase the scavengers out and calm the neuronflies.

He's usually very relaxed and informal, but when given the chance to share his knowledge on topics by a fellow Iterator who had messaged him, or a slugcat that made its way to his puppet chamber without attempting to grab any neurons, he will ramble until forcibly stopped.

[magentagalaxies]

oh this song i'm writing absolutely outs me as someone whose music writing was influenced by will wood jfc