#then is it just called 3am thoughts??

[haloraen]

I’ll have the most random headcanons for a fandom but then the moment I open this hellsite to write about them they just,, vanish. I can’t even open a Google doc without those thoughts disappearing like leaves to the wind and I can’t even complain as if this is a new feeling because it’s so incredibly common to so many people.

Anyways, time to go back to thinking about what-ifs for my favorite love deprived and touch-starved characters <3

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

six hundred strike really is just odysseus pulling the biggest uno reverse card moment in history.

[narugen-moved]

alright buckle up it’s time for me to spread my hoshina/mina agenda

1. mina being unserious as hell with the most serious face when it comes to hoshina (taking a picture of him being upset over losing kaiju #8)

2. “could you be the one to carve the path for me?” she specifically asked him because of his swordsmanship that every elder/senior in his life had dismissed him for citing it was an end of an era. she’s the only one who believed in him after years of being put down by everybody (even his own family)

3. devotion & loyalty & trust - do i even need to say anything they make me go crazy

i can’t add anymore pics so i’ll word dump properly in another post but wow i’m bonkers abt them 😭 something something thank you for choosing me / thank you for being someone i can rely on

[daboyau]

I got an idea when looking at this post by @tangledinink. I couldn’t rest until I’d jotted it down. The art possessed me like an evil spirit. warnings for body horror, vomiting, general fuckery. 💚

what probably happened directly before Leo found himself in this situation:

Leo: Fairies? No way those sparkly little assholes are real.

The fae who happened to be within earshot: and i took that personally.

Anyway, here we gooooo:

Leo opens his mouth to scream, but the sound won’t come out. He gags on the feeling of it catching inside his throat, and then again when the trapped scream begins to grow thorns. It scrapes its way up, and he claws desperately at his throat, trying to tear the feeling out, falling to his knees as he gags around the forced silence.

The threat of suffocation is enough to tear his attention, however briefly, away from the horror of what is happening to his shell. His body is changing itself on the urging of some other thing’s whims, and even though his nerves didn’t seem to get the memo that a dissolving shell (you know, the thing that most of his internal organs and, like, half of his bones need to stay inside his body?) should probably hurt a lot, he can still feel it.

He retches as the first flower falls from his lips. It hits the ground with a disgustingly wet sound, coated with bile and saliva. It shines wetly, rich orange hues standing out brightly against the black soil. The rest follow shortly after, a painful deluge of familiar colors, and he’s helpless to do anything but dig his fingers deep into the rich soil and try not to let the horrific impossibility of the situation drive him crazy. Tears flow freely, staining his cheeks before they fall to the ground below, greedily absorbed by the cursed earth of this place.

“Oh, dear,” a voice says, too close for him not to have noticed their presence. He tries to jerk back, but he can’t pull his fingers from the dirt. It hurts when he tries. A high pitched whine escapes his throat, but he’s too terrified to be embarrassed by that. The voice shushes him, soothes him, and warm fingers wrap tight around the back of his neck. They come to rest just above where the lip of his shell should be. He sobs at the way his back squirms as heat shoots down his spine and something begins to grow. The furred fingers drag like velvet against his scales as they squeeze, the sharp prick of claws threatening to break skin, and then release him just as suddenly. 

“So much sorrow and pain. And, oh, so many regrets,” the thing says as she circles him, humming a tune that makes his head pound in rhythm with his racing heart. His hands have sunk beneath the black soil, and it has begun licking greedily at his wrists as well. He can feel tendrils of something wet and cold winding themselves around his fingers, and he wants to scream again, but the bursts of bile-soaked colors decorating the ground keep him from opening his mouth. He can feel a petal still clinging to his bottom lip, and when the thing kneels before him, she reaches out to pluck it off, unbothered by the way he shrinks as far away from her touch as he can manage.

She slips it between her lips, and he catches a flash of a blackened tongue as it darts out to meet that single purple petal. Her teeth are sharp when she smiles at him. They hadn’t been sharp, when she’d first approached him in the Hidden City. Nothing about her had been.

In the dim lights of the underground world he and his brothers had only recently begun to explore, she had looked soft. He’d seen her approaching, and the first thought to flit through his head was, aw, bunny. A fluffy, rounded face. Big eyes, dark and deep as a still pond as they reflected the flickering neon of a sign in the shop window behind him. A pink nose had twitched when she’d smiled at him, sweet and kind, and asked him for his name. 

(What had he told her?)

Now, she would be unrecognizable, if not for the same strawberry patterned dress that drapes over her stretched out frame. He’d think to compare her to a hare now, but the hares he’d seen when watching Animal Planet with mikey had never looked like they would take delight in tearing his nails off one by one or plucking out his eyeballs. They had never made his vision swim or his body shake when he’d looked at them. Maybe she’s become more of a wolf.

The soil has reached his elbows. Those cool, slimy tendrils have circled his wrists like shackles. They’re squeezing tighter and tighter, and he feels his fingers throb and tingle as circulation is cut off. 

His mind flashes briefly to raph and how he used to tell them not to wear rubber bands on their wrists, convinced that their hands would fall right off if they got squeezed too tight. He wonders if the things that live beneath the dirt will steal what they’ve claimed, just like she’s stollen his shell. Another sound wants to bubble up his throat at the thought, and he lets it, because what use is a swordsman without his hands?

The hysterical giggles escape as big, iridescent bubbles. They glitter pink and blue and leave a bitter taste on his tongue. They only float a few feet into the air before they fall back to the ground, their attempt to flee the horror of this situation not getting too far at all. Soft green grass rises up from the dirt to catch them, but they do not pop. They rest, suspended on those tiny blades, for far longer than any bubble he’s ever blown before. He watches, transfixed, as his laughter is eventually swallowed by green. It begins to spread.

A hand cradles his chin, and his gaze jerks back to the thing that brought him here. She is watching him intently, eyes darting to take in every tiny change in his expression. She looks curious, in the same way that donnie does when he’s thinking about all the ways he can take something apart, and what he can do with those pieces to create something better. 

Her hand is soft where it touches him. She is gentle as she wipes a cloth across his mouth. It feels like water, soothing and cool, and he finds himself leaning into this tiny offer of comfort among the stomach churning violation of what is being done to him. His eyes flutter, and he distantly registers that the face she wears seems to swim before his eyes with each rapid blink, shifting back and forth between bunny and wolf and something other. She looks like she wants to devour him whole, no matter which face she wears.

From this close, he can see the way her eyes sparkle and dance when she smiles. He can’t help but think that maybe being swallowed whole wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, after all. 

The writhing shackles around his wrists tighten. 

She laughs, breathy and soft, and the sound is layered and beautiful like wind chimes. It conjures a hurricane inside his mind. Her cool breath gusts over his face. It smells like churned dirt and funeral flowers and pustulous rot. He doesn’t know if he wants to gag or breathe deeper. 

“Little blossom,” she croons, cupping both his cheeks, dragging their faces close. He doesn’t resist. She giggles, and she drags those soft hands and those sharp claws down his neck and over his shoulders, fingertips bumping against the disgustinghorriblewrongparasitetumor gathering of delicate buds that have sprouted up all across his back. She pinches one between the pads of her fingers, and he wants to screamcrybeghertostoppushherawaycutherdownandtearthemalloutbytheroots be good for her.

“Little blossom,” she says again, and those dark eyes catch his gaze and hold it as a heavy feeling settles against his skin, across his shoulders, around his neck, and he can’t look away no matter how desperately he tries. But he doesn’t want to try. Her smile stretches wider, wider, and for one brief flicker of a second he can see blood on her teeth as she asks, “Do you believe now?”

.

(Side note just for fun. The flowers that appear in this but aren’t actually described or named are:

Orange marigold, for grief and despair

Purple hyacinth, for sorrow and asking for forgiveness

Red cyclamen, for goodbye and resignation

Yellow zinnia, for missing a friend and remembrance

Bluebells, for gratitude and everlasting love 

[good-beanswrites]

A second drabble of "Fuuta goes to get a 3am snack and Es is being Weird" LOL. I love @waivyjellyfish 's hcs of inhuman Es, and they would 100% use this to torture Fuuta. Nothing overtly supernatural happens, which just adds to his pain that it's all technically possible, but still creeping him the fuck out 😂

Fuuta blinked the grogginess from his eyes, the fridge light nearly blinding him. He shifted around some leftovers, picking out something that looked appetizing. He peered over his shoulder. It was the dead of night, and he’d hate to wake any of the others. Unfortunately, he had no such luxury himself. His grumbling stomach didn’t care about his need for rest. 

He placed a bite of cold food in his mouth. 

He closed the fridge door, revealing Es standing behind it. 

His coughing masked the sound of horror that would have come out otherwise. He’d leapt backwards about five feet, narrowly avoiding throwing the food directly at the warden’s darkened figure.

“You didn’t choose my cooking?” was all Es said in response to the mortifying reaction.

“The fuck are you doing!? I didn’t even hear you come in…” 

One would think that those clicking heels and collar of jangling keys would make Es into a walking noisemaker, but they were surprisingly silent everywhere they went. The prisoners had often joked about Es’ catlike steps. Fuuta in no laughing mood, now.

“Don’t you have a lot to do tomorrow?” He tried to shake the uneasy feeling swirling in his gut. “You’ve been talking about it all day, I thought you’d want as much sleep as you could get.” 

“I don’t sleep.”

“Does it look like I care that you’re drowned with work? That’s your own fault for trying to handle ten prisoners all by yourself. You’re not getting any pity from me.”

“Eh? No, I mean, I don’t sleep.”

Fuuta paused. “Stop fucking with me. I’m too tired for this crap.”

“I mean it. I was already awake when I heard someone up, I just wanted to investigate.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way you heard me from all the way down the hall, through that heavy door of yours. You’re probably hungry, too – but don’t get any ideas, these are mine.” He moved to the counter, transferring the food to another dish to heat. 

Es followed, their icy eyes flicking between him and the food. 

“You really prefer Mahiru’s cooking that much more?”

“Of course. Yours sucks. Don’t think I’ll give you any fake flattery just because you’re the warden.”

“I figured you would want me in charge of the kitchen instead of Jackalope. I’m just trying to help.”

“Tch. I’m pretty sure you’re trying to kill us.”

“With my cooking?” A smirk stretched across their lips. “There are easier ways to kill a person.”

Es stared at him, that odd smile on their face.

Fuuta tried to smother the shiver creeping up his spine. 

They had to have been messing with him. This is just how a bored warden gets their kicks, he figured. They sneak up on unsuspecting prisoners in the middle of the night and say ominous things. They just liked bringing up murder to get under his skin. And of course they slept. They slept, ate, and – he looked down at the dish of food. He had seen them eat, right? He wracked his brain for any memory of it. It would explain the poor-tasting cooking…

“Ah!” Es’ voice made him jump for the second time that night. He followed their gaze over to the doorway, where Jackalope was hopping into the dim kitchen. 

Es began to speak into the silence. This type of craziness, at least, was a familiar one: their insistence that they could speak to the little animal.

“I know, I know. … Yes, of course. I’ll be finished here in a moment.”

Fuuta’s gaze flicked between the pair. Tiny, black, beady eyes. Large, pale, round ones. Jacklope’s twitchy little nose. The way Es seemed entirely motionless.

“Whatever. I’m going to bed.” Fuuta grabbed the dish and stormed out of the room. He avoided meeting either set of eyes. Let them have their crazy, creepy conversations in the dark by themselves. He was out. 

Es’ voice echoed into the hallway as he hurried back to his cell. 

“Goodnight, Fuuta…” 

Fuuta tried not to look like a little kid running back through the darkened corridors, but he certainly didn’t take his time.

The sheets rustled around him as he got into. His back pressed against the cell wall, so he could keep an eye on the entrance. He strained his ears to listen for any unnaturally quiet steps.

Then he looked down at his food.

He had completely lost his appetite.

[littlemissclandestine]

Emergence - Behind each arena

Thought this mission was chaotic af. Didn't expect zombies to be in the campaign since they literally have a separate mode for that but anyways let's take a lil dive into EMERGENCE.

⚠️WARNING: Spoilers for Call of Duty: Black Ops 6

-Advanced Combat Research-

For this section, we obtain a grappling hook and need to defeat the director of ACR with the help of some sentries.

I wasn't actually sure about this one since the zombies were just well....zombies that looked like guards. However, that said, the big guy we had to defeat was just a Cerberus/three-headed-dog-like figure.

-Administration-

For this keycard, we have to find the reports and slot them into the holders and this red mannequin comes to life (along with the others...)

Red is an interesting choice. It stands out from the rest and if we think back to Cold War, you'd remember red being used A LOT throughout the campaign.

Anyways, once it's free, the red mannequin goes on the run (a bit like Adler) and we have to chase it, the voice in Case's head saying, "I knew we couldn't trust him," and if we fire at it, the voice mentions, "Bullets are nothing to him," possibly referring to Adler being hardened by his years of service.

He cracks when we reel him in and get too close and then he pushes us away. The cracks remind me of Adler's scars - mental and physical. In fact, the mannequins actually take on the form of Adler mostly as well in this room. A coincidence? I think not.

After the initial phase, the red mannequin transforms into the monster as seen in the third image and again, we get another piece of dialogue - "See? He's a monster, just like the rest of them."

The thing that comes to mind here is Adler's nickname - America's monster.

-Joint Projects-

To acquire this keycard, we play some prop hunt basically! Objects around the room will rattle, signifying the monster's whereabouts and we have to sneak up on it and fire or it will disappear again - kind of alluding to the idea of secrecy, a core theme of Black Ops.

What's interesting to me is the fact that the zombie engages in a prop hunt like game with Case...like being on the move constantly and watching your back when others get too close to the truth perhaps.

We know that Sevati Dumas is the queen of disguise, excelling at being hidden in plain sight so this definitely fits her and that's why we see her in this arena.

-Cognitive Research-

During this phase, we have to drain some water to get the keycard and kill the big guy who's residing in the bathysphere.

The voice in Case's head seems to focus on rage here. I think for this part, there was a mix of Marshall, Sev and Adler zombies.

On escape, we see a Woods horde charging towards us. If we consider the theme of rage, we can certainly see where Woods' anger lies - Hudson and Mason's death especially to Woods' being kneecapped by Menendez and how that's mentally affected him, leading him to suffer. Hence, this is a part of the "cognitive research" bit.

-Biotechnology-

For this phase, we have to defeat a friggin' levitating zombie.

I thought this one was very reminiscent of Case...almost like it's his true form. He's essentially fighting himself for this one, just like looking in a mirror, right?

Troy and Sev zombies can be seen, most likely because this is where the three of them all are in reality.

---------------------

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this mission <3

[mamawasatesttube]

What are ur fav timkon tropes?

god i don't even know... basically anything might get me if it satisfies like two point five requirements:

they actually like each other (incredibly low bar, and yet!)

they both have real personalities (INCREDIBLY LOW BAR.......... AND YET!)

BONUS: one or both of them goes off the shits to protect and care for the other

which i guess is to say it's about the best friends to lovers of it all. the bone-deep familiarity with each other. laughing over stupid jokes and being completely at ease in each other's spaces. little things that remind them of each other. shenanigans. but also DEEP deep devotion. this is all not really tropes but augh i don't know i like forgot every single trope on the planet the moment i saw this ask

[stabbyfoxandrew]

also hi. me and jess ended up binge watching iwtv s2 yesterday.

[marzely]

I could not stop thinking about Solie with her parents ever since I started my replay of @shepherds-of-haven alpha demo. Solie is someone who honors her parents, through anyway possible her bow and arrow, her morality, and her happiness. When Halek tells Solie that he considers her family a First Family she can’t help but get a bit misty eyed (scaring Halek in the process) knowing how much that would have meant to them coming from the Sol.

[rustycottoncandy]

I somehow made it through the school day running on one hour of sleep

[squishykitty825]

Could you imagine how cool it would be to have constant background music in real life?

Like, imagine you're hanging out with a group of friends and the soft piano music you could always hear just below the noise of everyday life turns to clown music because one of your friends made a stupid joke that has the rest of you and your friends staring at them with blank expressions on your faces a moment before you all break out in laughter.

Or, imagine your grandparent/parent/someone you love has passed away and you can hear the music turning melancholy, slow and mournful as you grieve.

Or maybe you're going to school and as you shake hands with your principal/university president and they hand you your diploma/degree and the music is suddenly a blasting fanfare of triumph, then it changes to the song you heard on the radio with your significant other (it's your song) when you lock eyes with them during your first dance with them after your wedding.

Life could be so much more if we had background music

Then again, maybe it's for the best that we don't have constant noise. Sometimes you just need a moment of complete and utter silence to just sit and breathe through all the noise and stimulation that comes with life.

[etherea1ity]

.

[bataranqs]

10 Happy Things

May 11, 2024

Slept most of the day let's gooo

My bed and clothes are so warm and cozy

Called my mom and apparently she was out with people but she stepped outside to talk to me for a bit before going back to them and just feeling very very loved

My mom called me back and I talked to my sisters for nearly two hours hwjoiegdjkl we're just absolute nerds the lot of us

The Bible Plan I've been doing these past few days is just re-looking at everything from the basis of just get right with God, are you following Jesus and it's been very comforting to have that reminder like it is relational, it is supposed to be a delightful life we're living, there's no stress at all about doing x or y and if you're supposed to, it will not be anything but good

I can't really move my toes individually (except the ones at the ends) and I think it's kinda cute. They're a pack. They're friends. Do Not Separate.

The Tim Horton's White Hot Chocolate is so insanely good

Dungeon Meshi is such a good manga broooo

There are so many joys that I don't think I'll run out of them, and isn't that just the most delightful thing ever?

When I started this list I was feeling a little tired but now I'm quite happy and excited!! I'm so grateful to Katie for getting me into this, and my friends who also do stuff like this

[strifetime]

mom: [biological dad] wanted me to tell you he says 'hi'

me: (don't ask why just say 'ok' don't ask why don't ask wh-) why

[thedreadvampy]

thought too hard about my adolescence made myself sad 🥲

[mostlymaudlin]

one thing ive been spinning around my head lately is that my birth name doesn’t have to die. i totally get why people call it a deadname, but i think i don’t mind if mine lives a bit? perhaps in a perfect world id kill it, but ive never been good at imagining utopia, and i think that it’s easier for me to let that name stick around in a sidecar than it would be to try to lose it.