#y’all I cooked with this one

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

omg y’all let me introduce you to this new concept called SWEDENGATE ✨😍😍😍🥰🥰✌️✌️✌️✌️😀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀✨✨

This is the Swedish flag. Notice anything special about it…?

… that’s rIGHT, IT’S BLUE AND YELLOW 😍🤩🤩

This theory suggests that Mike and Will are actually two Swedish boys called Mikael “Micke” Wahlberg and Villiam ”Ville” Boman, but Vecna fucked up their minds and memories and now they no longer remember their lives in Sweden 😣 AT ALL

In s5 I sure hope to see a scene where they’re dancing around the midsommarstång together while singing at the top of their lungs 🥰 Also they celebrate their first Lucia together

[kaiju-krew]

too many wips, too little time😓

[veggiemist]

I have nothing to offer for Halloween so have this instead

Click for better quality omg

My pookie bear

[ennabear]

✞ —YOUR OWN PERSONAL JESUS.

ennabear’s mythologica challenge entry.

✞— a former ‘scary lady’ is turned helpless and utterly lost after a life-altering ‘company mishap’ left her misguided and questioning her own beliefs. a new town, leaving her old life behind, and a leader to guide her to her newfound faith— it’s what she begged for. but what happens when it rejects her? a double life full of secrets and sins weighing heavily on her chest and building up until she snaps like a tree branch bearing a winter’s snow. what ever could she do to earn your forgiveness, and god damn it, could you finally take her pain away?

join the challenge!! // read the fic!! (coming soon 🧛🏿)

[chaoticlad]

The behind the scenes they never showed us 😔

Crappost

[rookanisstuff]

Dinner Bell

[robiinurheart33]

I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2 (clicks for Palestine)

Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.

Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.

So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.

Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.

He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?

Huh.

Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.

Hwlli

That’s not quite right.

Gellp

Nope.

Hellu

Oh my god.

Hello

There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.

U up?

He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.

Drunk?

Soap frowns.

Who

You.

Wanna try anf gues, Lt?

You are drunk.

He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.

Yiu think so?

I know so.

Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.

Ittle know iy all

You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-

His phone is vibrating.

Crawling back to you.

[artem1sc0re]

Idk who’d want this or would want to see this in their day

But Aiden Pearce with banana bread

Also do you guys like edits if so I’ll just serve this on the side

[mylove-thresher]

first time drawing Sheila E actually idk y I have never drawn her she looks so kewl

[hulloitsdani]

Give some headcanon on if Kiran from fire emblem heroes would interact with the fallen heroes in the order especially someone like fallen nergal let's say nergal won't left unscathed

Especially if Alfonse is nearby or godforbide is lif

Sure! Unfortunately, I have not played Blazing Blade, so I’m not too familiar with Nergal as a character. I recall his appearance in Forging Bonds being fun, but ultimately I don’t know enough about him to comment on the potential on that specific dynamic. I shall leave those headcannons to you, my friend. However, I do think about fallen/antagonistic heroes a lot.

I believe this came up with a lot of 3 houses characters, but it’s commented on how those summoned by Kiran can’t harm anyone else they’ve also summoned. No hero on hero violence. It’s how you get the mildly hilarious dynamic between Chrom, Robin, Lucina, and Grima. They cannot physically harm each other, so it’s time for psychological warfare! Kinda! It’s in the form of a heated philosophy discussion, because Grima is not as good at this as he thinks he is. It’s delightful.

But, let’s think about that critically for a second. Kiran can control who Grima, a god of ruin and despair, can harm. And Grima is, notedly, intelligent— he most definitely tested the extents of this limitation. Especially when Chrom was off waxing poetic on how the strength of human connection can change fate again. He definitely tried, but he can’t kill anyone this bumbling imbecile doesn’t approve of. No one can. It’s part of the contract every hero is immediately put under and none have managed to break it. This safety precaution presumably also extends to themself and their allies.

Meaning, Kiran does not need any type of protection. Kiran is the one in control here.

Hell, they’re in control of people who have NEVER had the tables turned on them like this. And THATS the fun part of fallen/villain units. I personally love the Grima and Kiran dynamic, because this near all powerful being is now chained to and has to protect this normal guy. But that’s hardly the only variant of this. For example, if I’m recalling correctly, there’s a forging bond involving Kronya from FE3H, in which she talks about why she is more than content to fight for the Order. It’s violence without any drawbacks. Sure, the heroes are given shelter, food, money, compensation, and yadda yadda yaaaa. But the real perk? You can’t die here, kid. As long as that tactician is around, you can run wild. And they don’t give a damn about the violence enacted, as long as the job gets done. Askr is a beautiful bloody battlefield on loop, and all the violent sickos get to partake with no risk to themselves. What more could she possibly want?

That is mostly conclusions Kronya personally came to, but I imagine Kiran subtly nudged her into that line of thinking when giving the initial pitch. Took one good look at her and knew not to try to appeal to the moral goodness of her heart when asking her to fight for Askr. Kiran is good at people managing, in that way. Has done enough customer service for that to come pretty naturally. As a result, they are the glue that keeps the Order running on a social level. Which, to be clear, is a testament to their skill. They are genuinely very charming and use that to make would be villains into willing helping hands.

As for the Askr trio’s reactions to this, it varies, but no one can argue with the results. Anna will, on occasion, give them a hubris check. Although she has learned to trust their capabilities, she remains the most skeptical and is the one needing to be convinced when Kiran summons a new feral raccoon with rabies to fight in their army. Mr. Told Death He’d Kill Her In A Week is far more down for this and is rather intrigued on how Kiran managed to convince said raccoon to listen to them. (Parental validation apparently. A lot of these guys have daddy issues.) Sharena, meanwhile, brings up the glaring obvious moral trolley problem??? You guys???? Having these morally dubious heroes as part of the Order is a powerful boon, but it would also make their cruelty a fundamental part of the Order of Heroes. So maybe some critical thought should be put behind that before launching fallen Ike at Freya full speed. The other three then all awkwardly look at each other as they realize that did not occur to them in the slightest. Whoops. This is why Sharena is an indispensable part of the Order. Thank you and good night!

[phantomsies]

getting all the education/degrees I can and planning so I can get the fuck out of this country >>>>

[chimerahyperfix]

Being frozen in time definitely does something to you. Physically it cages you. Mentally it throws you into the longest dream you could ever have. It's not comfortable-- far from it in fact-- but you've grown to look forwards to it, when you loose. It's better than being mashed to dark paste at least.

You're frozen right now, in fact. Waiting in silence for time to loop back. Stuck with your thoughts and a vauge feeling of a dream. The house is around you and you're moving through it. Empty rooms and endless hallways, curling and twisting in ways that make them feel alive despite the lack of any living thing that isn't you. No sad monsters, no frozen bodies, no dark stains. There doesn't seem to be an exit.

The dreams you have when frozen seem to correlate to how you're doing emotionally. Most of them have been lost to time, like most things in your life now. Dreams, wounds, emotional bonds; everything is turning back with you, and that’s started to do something to you, because now you can predict the actions of those around you with quite a bit of accuracy. You can recall little bits of things, but the further back you go is just static. There was a bunch of dumb things that you can’t piece back together anymore, there were times with those you love, there was endless rage flowing through your very being, and there was this. The desperation. The empty halls of the very House you’ve worked so hard to protect.

You want out.

You've kept count of how many times you've been frozen. How many times you've died. How many loops. 61 is the counter and it's far, far too many times to relive the same day over again. You grew tired of the monotony by the tenth go around. Twenty five felt like a stab wound. Forty, like you were being split in two. Big 6-0 felt like drowning. You don't feel real anymore.

But that's fine! You can still see the good in this, if you stretch your imagination like taffy, as far as it'll go. It's better to be just you, just one person, than everyone else! You can live with the weight of the country on your shoulders for a bit longer, if only to keep it off of Euphrasie's. You’re doing this for her! For everyone. You can do it for a bit longer. You just need to find the King’s weakness, or something. Make a more powerful potion, or scrap together the materials to make a second craft bomb, or, or something! You’ll find it soon enough. You’re smart! You can do this!

You have to.

You turn down the hallway. Find yourself on an entirely different floor. Just as much of a ghost town. Just ice and cold and tiredness, your breath forming clouds in the air. That’s fine. This is just a dream or something, anyway. You’ll wake back up at your desk any time, with the looming vials of all sorts of toxic stuff you keep drinking that you crabbing neglected to put away because you didn’t think time would crabbing loop, because realistically, WHY would you assume that would happen? Preposterous! Ignore the burning feeling in your throat and the smell of sugar and push on. Wait for it to start all over again.

Because it has to be you, doesn’t it? You wished for this, or something. You don’t remember. It was a long time ago. It has to be you, because only you have the power. It HAS to be you, because who else would it be? Euphie? She’s already got enough on her hands. Mirabelle? You’d rather die. It’s better you do this than the ones you love.

It has to be you.

it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be you it has to be

It's sucks, having to be the one to do it. Your limit was a long time ago.

You can't do this forever.

[soullessjack]

autistic spn fans: hey I relate a lot to jacks character and feel really represented as an autistic adult who has the same issues and experiences he has in the show :) here’s why I think he’s autistic and I’m gonna ask the silly actor man if he meant to do that bc he did it so well :)

silly actor man: I think he’s definitely a little bit on the spectrum, most of his traits were just from not being fully human but it’s important that people get to see themselves represented on tv and I like having that connection with you guys :)

the rest of the fandom: yay that’s so cool we love representation that’s so important he gets to be autistic just like his dad we love our autistic nougat child 😝😝😝

autistic spn fans: hey since we all agree that jacks autistic could you guys like dial it back on the baby thing it was cute at first but now that’s like the only content you ever make with jack and it’s kind of irritating and infantilizing

the rest of the fandom for some stupid fucking reason: I mean yea but I just like this better 😋😋 so cute and domestic and destiel family yay 😁 he’s basically a toddler anyways already its not hurting anyone 😜

autistic spn fans: … he literally says he isn’t a child and hates when ppl treat him like one and half of your reasoning for him being a child is just his autistic traits

the rest of this stupid fucking fandom for some stupid fucking reason: anyways i actually think that jack should’ve always been a baby and never ever an adult so that dean and cas can be uwu soft domestic gay dads with him 😝😝

autistic spn fans who related to jack as autistic adults and felt represented by him enough to thank the actor for his portrayal:

[bleue-flora]

AU/fanfic idea for anyone who wants it (because I don’t write Tommy) - Instead of following Dream from Las Nevadas to the prison undetected (after the Las Nevadas finale), Tommy’s invisibility potion runs out or Dream sees the particles and confronts Tommy. Some fun scenario options include: Tommy taking a good look at a very agitated, panicked, upset, and hurt Dream, maybe some pity or empathy from Tommy? OR maybe Dream kills him, accidentally swinging at air in frustration and oneshots unarmored Tommy, or just kills him more intentionally. Honestly, it could also be fun to have Tommy actually get close enough to hear the conversation between Purpled, Quackity and Dream in the casino…

Like I can’t help but think about if Tommy had heard Dream talk to Quackity about the torture or maybe like been a little bit closer to Dream on the journey home to see his hands shaking and heart pounding, would it have made a difference? Would Tommy have seen the fear or would it not have mattered? Part of me thinks even if Dream started breaking down and like ripped off his shirt and recounted each and every scar and expressed the pain within him to Tommy, it still wouldn’t have made a difference. That sooner or later, Tommy was always going to storm the prison to kill Dream, and the only way he could ever see Dream is by the powers of limbo.

[peteytheparrot]

The more and more I write for Luckys Locket the more I go CRAZY UGH I NEED TO MAKE A COMIC NOWWWW I HAVE SO MUCH OF THE WRITING DONE

I’m so mentally ill about my OCs I think a comic would make me too powerful /j

[imaginationblur]

2024, what a glorious burning year.

⚪️▫️⚪️▫️⚪️

Individual Pieces:

1 - 2 - 3

4 - 5 - 6 (Whole series linked in posts)

7 - 8 - 9

10 - 11 - 12

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