#um thats all i think

[tiredofthehumanlife]

One of my friends messaged me and said "What are your pronouns today you emo fag" and like thanks for asking and using the right ones but was last part really necessary

[francy-sketches]

cringe ass family ❤

[couch-house]

yippee knuckles comic done! wanted to try several things: tell a story in 4-7 pages, attempt to style layouts and writing a bit more like stc comics, and lump my "knuckles raised unknowingly by the m.e." headcanons together. mixed results I think but I still think it turned out nice :)

[buqbite]

loved the 2.3 scene where they bickered like petty little kids

[thewhizzyhead]

how genderbending the warriors (2024) is done not for the sole sake of "bad-assery"

okay here we go feminist ramble time for our newest chick on the block: warriors. now i'll be honest, prior to listening to the album, when i first heard that the warriors main girls were originally dudes in the movie and the novel, i thought that the decision for the genderbending, in lmm's perspective, were from the following: 1.) girl power move in like a very basic meaning of the word "bad-ass" 2.) simply a twist on a cult movie about big gang bros loved by the film bros, and 3.) a way to have the schuyler sisters back together gjfkdfldf

but when i read more about warriors and its development and how lmm took inspiration from the gamergate controversies of 2014-2015 aka among the peak of gamerbro misogyny campaigns, that's when i realized that Oh Shit Is Serious - because adapting a story about a group being framed and targeted and harassed for something they are accused of doing without any substantial proof other than a man screaming "THE WARRIORS SHOT CYYYYRUUS" with 21st century misogyny campaigns in mind makes the theme of fighting back a lot more complicated and a lot more resonant, going beyond just marketing a cast you can call "badass"

take the hurricanes' quiet girls, for example. the hurricanes (concept album version) is the only gang that lets the warriors off the hook and with a stern warning: quiet girls don't make it home. here, the hurricanes berate the warriors for not saying shit or attempting to defend themselves from accusations they know well aren't true. THIS MESSAGE IN PARTICULAR is what stays and influences ajax, fox, and swan til the very end of their stories.

literally one song after this does ajax show how easily she resonated with the hurricanes' lesson by finally sticking with her gut and actually choosing to fight back against both the baseball furies AND against the sleazy undercover cop. the latter encounter is one of the instances that really solidifies the recontextualization of the story because in the OG movie, ajax (a dude) WAS the sleazy fuck up harassing a woman in a park - and now with the literal character switch, ajax goes from being just a rebellious gangbro dude bro into someone whose want to fight is warranted. such a want to fight is seen in fox seeing as fox is the first to comment on the quiet girls scene and that, in the concept album, she is the one that instigates the rumble against the police in union square - saying that she is sick of being afraid of them and their 'fuckin powder blue' colors (also notice how she is the only warrior that really does say fuck the cops i think that's cool BUT I'LL TALK ABOUT FOX MORE NEXT TIME)

to a less obvious extent, swan also gets the receiving end of this recurring theme - by the album's finale, the usually violence-averse caution-first interim leader becomes a lot fiercer in protecting her crew. but perhaps among what i consider to be the biggest recontextualized change in the feminist sense is MERCY and her motivations to join the warriors in the first place. according to the wiki, her attraction to swan and the warriors and um seeing the orphans as wimps is what led her to switch sides BUT IN THE CONCEPT ALBUM, mercy's motivation to become a warrior is deepened, rooted in admiration rather than attraction - wanting to be like those women who hold their head up high. and again, we see this in Sick of Runnin' when she takes part in the rumble, finding her bravery within their ranks as they fight back. here, mercy becomes less of a swan tagalong and more of someone that wants what the warriors have: pride.

of course now that i type this out i realize that warriors is not based solely on the feminist rhetoric as with their theme of hope amidst adversity, the story is more intersectional and rooted in community struggle and wanting for more than that. but nonetheless, i genuinely believe that the twt filmbros arguments on why the genders should not have been changed in the first place just for "woke" points is kinda like,,,very shortsighted because not only does the narrative of women narrowly escaping unwarranted accusations actually fucking fit, but the act of learning to fight back amidst all odds - be it that of disbelieving, predatory men or the power of oppressive pigs - stays resonant for women yesterday, today, and the days to come.

ultimately, warriors (2024) is not solely a tale of female badassery - rather, it is a tale of the need for such "female badassery" in the face of past and present realities, which is why it somehow fucking worked.

[vellichorsdesire]

cuddling with your f/o(s) in bed but your arms always fall asleep. their hair gets in your face sometimes or vice versa. being in the middle of kissing, noses bumping too much or you just miss their lips completely with your eyes closed. bumping foreheads accidentally!!! kissing even more and then breaking it off to yawn or giggle and trying to kiss again but it only repeats. goosebumps and shivering whenever you touch them. accidental (or very much intentional/jokingly) shoving/elbowing because the others feet are too cold or it is suuper warm to even be this close to each other. they love and love and love you tremendously still through anything and everything. even if you steal the covers off them when you sleep, maybe

[lucabyte]

Comfortable in New Skin

[cerealmonster15]

skully (scully??) in his element: alone in a quiet dark room with NOTHING but a single pumpkin and a light inside😌

[heartorbit]

creatures

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[art-o-gant]

AUAHSUAJHDSJAHSJHDJSKDHSJKHDSJKHDSJKHDCSJK

LOSING MY MINDDDDD @potato-lord-but-not THAJNK YOU SO MUHCHCHHCHH THESE R SO WONDERFUL and thank you for the surprise ford,,,,, adjfdsjfhcds auhgh,,,,,,,,, i love hjm,,,

[monotone-artist]

[id in alt]

bothering him tuesday + other doodles i dont think i posted? big brother shadow!

bonus under read-more

[sideblogdotjpeg]

thinking about mother figures in neverafter.

(no colour version under read more)

[starch1ldz]

Spencer Reid when you become an agent at the BAU and he knows logically you don't need to be constantly praised but he does it anyway because he wished there was someone there doing it for him when he first joined.(imaging s6+ Spencer.) You're his favorite on the team because you're great at what you do and you're actually willing to listen to him rant unlike anyone else.

[nevertheless-moving]

continution of stormlight au 14, where kaladin keeps it together just a little longer:

Adolin: Storms! So both you and bridgeboy have been radiants—

Kaladin: surgebinders.

Adolin: surgebinders, this whole time? Unbelievable! Anyone else here secretly a surgebinder?

Renarin:

Shallan: I— your cousin. Jasnah. She didn't have a soulcaster. She was one.

Kaladin: Wait. I thought you said she died.

Shallan: Radiants can be killed! She had a sword through her chest!

Kaladin: I mean...I haven't tested that out specifically. But I've been shot a lot. And I was basically flayed alive. Teft nursed me back to life with a few diamond chips.

Adolin: Hah! The assassin did get you with a shardblade, didn't he? And you healed from it!

Navani: I knew it. She's impossible to kill.

Shallan: I— but I sank the boat. Oh stormfather...

Kaladin: I can also survive without breathing a while. 20 minutes easily. haven't timed my limits.

Adolin:

Shallan:

Shallan: I — wait, did you say you were flayed alive? What? Why?

Kaladin: It's — it's how the whole stormblessed title happened. Got strung up in a highstorm.

Adolin: Huh. At this point I was wondering if you got the title talking to the stormfather himself, ha!

Kaladin:

Adolin: ....Bridgeboy?

Kaladin: It. I mean during highstorms sometimes...

Adolin: I swear if you say you thought it was a hallucination I'm throwing you as far as I can. And I'm wearing plate right now.

Kaladin: It— it can't have been real.

Adolin: I'll do it bridgeboy. I know you can take it.

Kaladin: Fine. Anyway. That's how I got the stormblessed name. Sadeas ordered me outside, left upside down in a highstorm. Not fun, but I lived.

Shallan: So... she really could be alive...

Adolin: My captain of the guard, my bethrothed, and my cousin! Ha! Renarin, you'd tell me if you were a radiant — I mean a surgebinder, right?

Renarin:

Adolin: Renarin?

Renarin:

Adolin: Renarin...I...but why wouldn't you tell me?

Renarin (crying): I thought I was going mad. I was seeing things, I could hear screaming from my shardblade...

Kaladin: I hear that too!

Shallan: There's...something wrong with most shardblades.

Renarin: I thought it was...

Adolin (gripping Renarin's shoulder): Brother.

Adolin: I don't think hallucinations are real.

[xenomorphicdna]

On the string propaganda

Heeellll yeah

Bestie is an entire PLACE

I look at those guys and let me tell you the soul of that thing ain't just in the puppet, it's in all the neurons carrying the thoughts and emotions, it's in the power rails that serve as the heart. All the memories in the memory conflux and all the numbers we see flicker across displays, the flux condensers, the puppet; a little avatar.

No way these massive machines see life the same way we do. They have their own experiences and senses and things they hold dear. A world we can't imagine, a way of living we couldn't even comprehend.

I could never tear an iterator apart to be just a puppet. Who am I to decide how's life supposed to be enjoyed or perceived?

You treat your creechurs however you want- I ain't gonna dictate that. But damn, hearing the thrums and buzzes of the linear systems rail? They are alive with so much power, these mechanical beasts are exactly what they should be.