#think dats everyone

[girlwiththegreenhat]

buncha photos of all the cool The Owl House cosplayers this year at ACEN!!! the meetup was so much fun 🥺 there is nothing funnier than somebody dropping one of their fake ears and everyone instinctively checking at the same time to make sure it wasn't ours

(+ me at the end as the last lilith!)

harpy lilith: @shadowluv101-blog

[good-beanswrites]

I wanted to bring up a silly ship idea. Just for fun.

03, 06, 09, 10

Was this before Kotoko attacked them? After? I dunno.

Thoughts?

YES the cringefail 20yo polycule 👏👏👏 Thank you for the request! I've seen a lot about the individual pairs, so it was really fun to think about all their dynamics together! I have a set of hcs that could work in the current canon Milgram, and then a normal au set because it's so fun thinking about them :3

Milgram-focused

The I’m-a-loner-who’s-doing-it-for-justice-don’t-TOUCH-me pair finally meet their match when confronted with the I-loved-someone-so-much-and-don’t-plan-on-stopping pair. They all go into the relationship with grand ideas of love: they think it’s all heroic acts of saving, massive gestures or love, and dramatic confessions. Over time, they realize the real heroism/romance is in the little things. 

Mahiru has her hands full with three people who neglect themselves for the sake of their work/interests, but she always loves feeding them and helping give them what they need. In turn, they can give her more affection and attention than she could ever ask for. They make sure someone is always around to spend time with her.

Each of the three is a perfect match for dealing with John’s reveal. Mahiru is calming and helps tone down Mikoto’s initial stress. Fuuta is honest and will help Mikoto finally confront his own situation and move forward. And since Kotoko can match his strength, Mikoto doesn’t need to be afraid of accidentally hurting anyone. Mikoto becomes less stressed with the overall situation as well as more accepting of himself/John.

I always love the idea that Fuuta is secretly starstruck by Kotoko and John’s strength. He’ll never admit how much he admires their ability to stand up and fight. He feels really safe around them. He’s glad to have the opportunity to fight for someone else, too – he likes to be Mahiru’s self-proclaimed protector and hero. (Even though most of the time she can stand up for herself, she still likes letting him take care of her.)

Kotoko’s experiences let her hold solid conversations with everyone. She’s similar enough to Fuuta where they share some interests (social issues, schooling, etc.) She understands hard work and burnout to earn Mikoto’s respect. She understands physical strength to earn John’s. She has a lot of people-knowledge, so she can gossip and talk about Tokyo life to Mahiru (Mappi’s doing most of the ‘gossiping,’ but Kotoko has solid additions). She's a good listener and has a good memory, so everyone feels heard by her.

They start to rub off on each other. Mahiru and Mikoto learn to be a bit tougher in standing up for herself. Fuuta, John, and Kotoko learn to take a breath before jumping right to violence. They stay very much who they are, but pick up on just a few habits that make their lives easier.

Their styles also influence one another: Fuuta gets pointers from all three about piercing his ears (though it takes him a long time to get up the nerve to do it). Mahiru helps the others dress more trendy and boost their confidence, and they teach her to worry less about her appearance and relax more. 

If they get together T1, Kotoko is shocked by the T1 verdicts. She might pull away from everyone in initial horror, but after developing a relationship ahead of time, she doesn’t follow through with her attacks. If not, then maybe in T3 when Kotoko is suffering from her guilty verdict, Mahiru and Mikoto are able to bridge the gap and develop a friendship, leading to more. Fuuta would take longer to come around, but I think seeing Kotoko got through the same pain as him, his hero instincts would kick in and he’d gradually help. 

Normal-au

Mahiru once again tries out her lovers’ interests, and gets a bunch of new hobbies. Fuuta teaches her to game, she works out with Kotoko, and she tries out photography with Mikoto. She becomes close with Fuuta’s beautician sister, and enjoys bonding over fashion and hair. She helps redye Mikoto’s hair, and give the other two pointers on style now and then. When going to nicer events, she and Mikoto have to step in and stop the others from their sneaker/hoodie combos. As the only one with a license, she’s the designated driver at all events, but doesn’t mind. 

Fuuta uses his tech skills to set up social media accounts for the others. He helps Mahiru network her flower shop, fighting anyone who leaves a bad comment/review. He helps set up a complex online portfolio for Mikoto. He and Kotoko still have a passion for justice, and he becomes the tech brains behind her vigilante operations (very Ron Stoppable - Kim Possible) It’s not necessarily healthy growth, but they’re happy with it lmao

Mikoto is the only full-time worker, the others are all still in university, and he makes sure to keep them all on track. He knows the most efficient tricks and cheats about getting papers done, pulling all-nighters, and cramming before an exam. The others have learned to spot when he’s burning himself out for others, and will stop him when he tries to take on too much. They’ll take care of him and force him to rest. While he can still get into a bit of trouble, John learns to call them first and get some help. 

Kotoko has trained herself to find people and information easily to catch criminals, but she finds use for it in much more mundane ways – she tracks down clients for Mahiru, snoops around Mikoto’s company to make sure he’s being treated right, and keeps an eye out for the people Fuuta is calling out and/or hanging out with. She goes on runs with Mahiru, and bike rides with Mikoto. Fuuta tags along sometimes to strengthen his legs for soccer. 

There’s definitely potential for them all to have their murders pre- or mid- relationship, and they help one another improve themselves and heal. I’m also a sucker for the relationship itself to cause them to change their ways and narrowly avoid the murder in the first place. (For the latter, Mahiru would ironically be the last to join the relationship, since she’d still be with her bf until the other three inspire her to break it off with him gently.)

[gurorori]

tbh it's still crazy 2 see progressive (ie western slash european & american i guess? yanno wat i mean. places wher we r nawt radicalised & illegalised into it oblivion) audiences have such (understandably) high standards 4 queer media or even queer representation as a whole & won't take less than. like i understand it's cause ya can expect better so ya will, in sum cases ya can even demand better. but it's simply nawt an option 4 many of us.

like idk perhaps a bit too harsh of me 2 say but regardless of the political atmosphere there's still a difference between livin' in a place where ya still have rights, have pride & can walk into a store etc & find queer literature & rep & even merch, have resources 2 support yrself & find yr community. & a place where as much as wavin' a pride flag or even havin' a pride pin, OR G-D FORBID holdin' yer partner's hand WILL get ya arrested & jailed. an' yr lucky if ya don' get assaulted or killed be4 dat can happen 🫥

[decompositie]

i was at this art of writing reunion which were classes given in english granted but almost all the people i talked to were dutch and when i told them i also wrote stuff in dutch they ALL were like ew why. uhm. because thats the language we speak

[british-catgirl]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers!

why, dank youse so much anon I didn't bribe, here's my list 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

and dat's it!

@strawberryblackcrown @irlactualhuman @cipher-of-the-round-table @pansexualcake9 @lezbadeez

[silusvesuius]

just wanted to say you’re 1/2 of my favorite elder scroll fan artists and also strangely enough remind me that i can just sort of draw whatever. not sure what exactly about your art it is that makes me feel cringe-free but keep up whatever you’re lacing this stuff with. anyways! i feel that i should put down oblivion and get on skyrim again so i can hop on that tullius and elewneteneyenegennene (i forgor her name) grindset

aww thank you..💙🖤 i lace it w/ whatever i feel like lacing it with that day . playing only skyrim for the rest of ur life is exactly what U should be doing i'm happy to see the realization hit you. her name is

[10hourshift]

girl...

Ramble in tags srry

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton​ @direwombat​ @detectivelokis​ @river-ward​ @adelaidedrubman​ @inafieldofdaisies​ @marivenah​ (ty lovelies!)

I’ve got a few wips saved up, so I’ll start off with Datura in her Mar*el Verse

"Containment breach, experiment 347 is loose. All personnel must immediately evacuate the facility."

The automated alarm monotonously advises while red lights flash around the room, like an ominous strobe light. The sound of gunshots and screams were getting closer, causing one of the scientists to drop what was in their hands, startling everyone when the glass shatters on the floor.

"Sorry!"

"Goddammit Kaitlin, pull yourself together!"

"Yes, Doctor Amos!"

"Containment breach, experiment 347 is loose. All personnel must immediately evacuate the facility."

They were almost done. The room itself now looked as clean and empty as the day they arrived, save for the tables along the walls and various pieces of medical equipment.

“Containment breach, experiment 347 is— Hellooo.” The interrupting crackle of the intercom causes the whole room to pause, the frantic footsteps and rustling and shredding of papers grind to a halt as everyone slowly turns toward the disturbance. “Now, there wasn’t much of a selection, buuut—“ Someone crying in the background causes the speaker pause. “Shhh, you’re ruining everything!” There’s a sickening crunch, followed by the gargle of someone choking on their own blood, and then… silence. “Now, where was I again? Ah, yes, here we go!” The voice cuts off and what follows is music.

“Is that the… Macarena?” One of the scientists at the back dumbly questions.

~~~

Her hips wiggle to the beat as a peal of laughter escapes ruby stained lips and she finally feels free, free, free! Twirling, she does a jump and a slide, sinking her claws into the nearest guards throat. “Ha!” Crimson stains clash against the blue shade of her skin, like splotches of paint on a blank canvas.

“Hey! Put your hands up!” Another guard shouts as they round the corner, gun shaking but pointed in her direction.

“No, you!” She giggles, wiggling her fingers in their direction.

“What the-?” They drop their gun and raise their hands.

“Isn’t this so much more fun?”

They dance to the music together as if they were choreographed and had practiced for hours, and isn’t long until a couple more guards round the corner and get sucked into the commotion.

This one is a bit longer, but Willa’s dark au is finally getting interesting :’)

"Mama, why do bad things happen to good people?"

The seemingly innocent question catches her mother off guard, startling her with its raw honesty. "Well, sweet pea, God likes to test His children."

"But why?"

“Sometimes, when people are having a hard time, they're overcome with doubt." She strokes a hand over her daughters head, watching the unruly blonde curls spring back up after. "That's when He'll test us, so that when we persevere and overcome these tests, we'll know that our faith in Him is real. That He hasn't abandoned us."

"I don't get it." Shaking the hand off her head, she turns around, meeting her mothers blueish-green eyes. "If He loves us, then why doesn't He already know our faith is real? Why do we need to be tested?"

“Oh, my sweet, you'll get it once you're older." She smiles, grabbing her hands in her own. "And then you'll understand why your hands are stained.”

"Stained? But they're not-" Her words stick in her throat when she looks down to see her hands slick, wet, and so very, very red. "Mama!" She cries out, horrified. "What's on my hands?"

"Oh, don't be silly honey." Still the same saccharine voice she remembers from childhood. "You know that’s my blood."

"Don't forget mine."

Her head turns achingly slow, spotting the towering figure in the doorway with a nagging terror lining her stomach. "Pa?"

“Well I’ll be. You remembered!”

Blood oozes from the walls, covering the floors and stretching out towards her, eager to have its taste of flesh. She scrambles back when it gets too close, scrubbing her hands against the material of her dress. But the crimson stains stick to them like paint, never coming off.

"Oh, come now, don't be like that! We can be a happy family again, you just gotta take this knife out."

"What?" She trembles, looking up to see her Father in front of her this time.

"Well? C'mon kiddo, it hurts!" A wide, maniacal grin splits his face.

"Now you're the one who's being silly, dear. You know she'll never take that thing out." Her mother chirps up behind her with a titter. “Not unless she's about to plunge it back in again.”

They both let out full bellied laughs at the same time, the sound ricocheting in her head, and the blood finally reaches her legs. She tries to get up, but it keeps her there, like a fly stuck to a glue trap. The more she struggles, the more it pulls her down, until she's drowning in it.

All she can see is red.

"NO!" The scream tears from her throat the moment she wakes, covered in a layer of sweat.

She can't see, and maybe that should be a blessing, but right now it feels more like curse. She needs to see, needs to make sure the blood isn't still clinging to her like a second skin. She needs-

"Wouldja shut up in there?"

Her head whips over to the door that opens, and she takes the opportunity to sprint toward it, pushing past the person in the doorway and not looking back.

"Hey wait!" Quick footsteps follow the yell and it isn't long until she's tackled to the ground.

"No! I won't go back! I WON'T!" She claws at their face, a futile effort with her gloves blunting her nails, so she goes for the next best thing. Teeth. She latches onto whatever is closest and pulls, coming away with a metallic taste that she hurriedly spits to the side.

"Ah!" The person holding her down reacts, raising a hand to the gushing wound she'd inflicted, their knees pressing down harder to hold her. "I need back up, NOW!"

It isn't long until more footsteps join them in the hallway, but she's frantic now, she can't see straight. No, worse, she can't even think straight.

Where is she?

"Give 'em the bliss, hurry!"

"No, please, I'll be good this time!" Her broken pleas do little to faze them. Were they listening to her? Did they even care? "I'll be good, I promise!" She sobs when her struggling limbs are held down, followed by a sharp prick to her neck. A few seconds later, her movements grow sluggish, her mind slows, and her eyes begin to roll into the back of her head. Garbled voices still come through, and she’s able to pick up what they're saying before passing out.

"They're almost ready to confess. John’ll be happy..."

.

.

.

When she comes to this time, it isn’t from a nightmare or in some frenzied state, not with the remnants of bliss still coursing through her system. Heavy lids open to a darkened room, arms and legs strapped to a chair with the same familiar leather bit tucked into her mouth. She's in the confession room, again. The same one she's grown familiar with over the week that she's been here. Well, at least she thinks it's been a week, since there's no way of telling time in the bunker. Either way, so far there's been a lot less confessing and a lot more torture, especially from the scratchy material of her half ripped shirt, covered in her dried blood. The door behind her opens and, once again, she doesn't need to look to see who it is.

"My, my, you had quite the little incident earlier, Deputy." John doesn't bother to look at her on his way over to the small table in the room, instead he's more focused on setting down his toolbox and getting things ready.

With the bit in her mouth, the best she can do is a muffled insult. "Fuck you."

He turns around with a look of faux shock and a hand over his heart, as if offended by her words. "There's no need to be so cruel."

Neglecting a reply, she rips at her restraints, showing her displeasure over her situation. If that didn't show it, her scathing glare certainly would.

"Now, I know we haven't been on the best of terms, but I think that'll change soon." He walks over to stand in front of her, bending at the waist and watching with satisfaction when she pushes herself back into her chair. "You see, I’m an understanding man, Deputy. I want to know what drives you, what could cause you to suffer from such wrath. So! I did a little digging, and what I found was... very enlightening."

Her blood goes cold and she freezes, her scathing glare quickly turning into a look of hesitance and fear, despite her best efforts to hide it. Her eyes follow him as he stands to his full height and walks over to his toolbox, turning his back to her while he undoes the clasps and pulls out pieces of paper, and not his usual tools of torture. Turning around with a flourish, he holds the papers up with a gleefully menacing grin.

"I know that you had a troubled childhood." He leans against his table, briefly scanning the papers before looking at her again. "That your parents were not the most nurturing. I even know you lost a dear childhood friend in a terrible incident. One that haunts you still, just as your parents do."

If she wasn't strapped to the chair, she knew her hands would be shaking, tempted to wrap her hands around his neck and cut off his words. Her teeth sink into the leather material in her mouth, preventing them from grinding together. She didn't want to remember. She's worked so hard to keep the memories at bay, to lock them up and throw away the key.

"And I know that you used to see a therapist before coming here."

She's shaking her head now, not wanting to listen any longer. She won't confront this, and she'd sooner die than relive it. "Shut uh." She utters, pulling at her binds.

"Now we're getting somewhere." He sighs with a slight smile, satisfied with her reaction. "Let's start with your friend, Deputy. What happened to him? Do you even remember his name?"

She doesn't answer. She's too busy containing her emotions, trying not to let the memories flood her mind. The mix of emotions are too much, so she tries to numb them, to numb herself to the emotional pain. She liked it better when he was torturing her physically, not mentally.

"His name was James Williams, and police suspect that his death was foul play." His eyes flick down to the page then back up. "Filicide. You know the word, yes? The killing of one's child?"

She shakes her head again, knowing what’s coming next.

“But this article in particular was very interesting.” He holds it up and begins to read aloud. “A fire that broke out early morning last Sunday is now being classified as an arson. Sherry Williams, 45, and her husband Jason Williams, 50, died after being taken to the hospital with third-degree burns.” He stops reading, lifting his eyes and lowering the paper, watching her reaction with a tilt of his head. “I think you know what the rest of the article says, Deputy.”

She pulls at her binds, squirming to get loose, to cover her ears and ignore the words being thrown her way. “Shtop!”

But John doesn’t stop, not when he knows that he’s finally getting somewhere. He sets the papers down, picks his tools up, and moves to stand in front of her. Parting the flaps of her shirt that were ripped already, he stares down at the tattoo on her chest that he’d etched onto her skin a few days ago. The words ‘WRATH’ stood out in dark, bold lettering, the skin around them still red and irritated, and he knew his next actions would do nothing to soothe them. But this was the process, his process, and part of her Atonement.

Willa squirms when his fingers caress her skin, tracing over the letters with a sadistic fascination in his eyes, causing her stomach to curdle in disgust. That disgust quickly gives way to a desperate attempt to escape when he brings a knife into view. She only has to wait for a few seconds before the bite of the blade presses into her skin, prompting beads of blood to bubble up as it traces over the lettering of her sin. Her teeth sink into the leather in her mouth, denying him the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise yet. Without a pause, he’s already onto the second letter, then the third, and it isn’t until he’s on the last two letters that she finally lets out a muffled whimper.

John stops, lifting his gaze from his work, causing blue eyes to clash against her own green eyes. “Comfortable, Deputy?”

If she could have spat in his face, she would have, so she settles for the next best thing: a head butt.

“Fuck!” John curses, dropping the knife in favor of clutching his now aching head.

She can’t help but to laugh, even if her head was now throbbing and her chest was burning, the sight of John in pain was something that tickled her pink. The next few moments are lightening quick, he bends down, snatches up the blade, and stabs her thigh.

“AHH FUCK!” Looking down, she observes the knife stuck halfway in, almost deep enough to dig into bone. “Why the fuck woo you do that?!”

“Why would you headbutt me?!”

Breathing through the pain, she shrugs her shoulders. “Touché.”

"I think," He yanks the blade out, taking great satisfaction in her muffled yell that trails off into a pained whimper. "We'll continue this later." Without any further comment, he leaves her alone in the room, slamming the door behind him.

[spotsupstuff]

me n my sister seriously n deeply discussing blitzbee longfics like

[roamingbogwoman]

Thinking about how in high-school girls would post pictures of them with me or kissing me as a brag bc I was talk of the town in gaygirl circles.. bitch what

[cariciapadre]

i need to redo my ocs refs ehehe

[blueiight]

soft launching lotgh w rein-les & reue-lou comps to my iwtv/vc friends only to unleash the dragon (my love for yang wenli. ep82 is some of the only things on screen or in fiction thats ever made my hollowed husk of a heart shed a tear)

[gurorori]

theres smth very funny abt american trans people bein the ones 2 always dictate how a trans person Should express themselves n how much effort they Should put into their ideal gender presentation. like sweetie i don wanna die an untimely death!

[aryshacore]

SMTM11 ep 1 thoughts

because why not. i loved watching SMTM10 last year so now that i know my khh better i might as well share about it.

안녕? QM didnt lie when he said his lyrics were dope lmao. looking forward to see more from him, although the editing in the preview of episode 2 made it look like he messed up while in the fire pit ?

wtf was this. ableist piece of shit. i thought that digital dav and dbo's music sounded cool but aint no way i go and listen to a guy who cant do better than spit on people with schizophrenia in his rhymes. this justhis face was my reaction when i heard that:

and last, i personally find it too bad that they didnt show much of Unofficialboyy, though since he got far last season it's understandable that he doesn't really need any more screen time.

[igumie]

Sometimes I don’t get ships

[tinylittlebab]

my dash is so dead its so sad >_<