#I WAS DEVASTAED
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thinking about Phoenix Fulwright….😳
#doctorsiren#ace attorney#phoenix wright#bobby fulbright#ace attorney spoilers#aa5 spoilers#miles edgeworth#apollo justice#simon blackquill#judge ace attorney#the phantom ace attorney#ace attorney fanart#digital art#my art#procreate#dude…#when I think about Bobby I GET SO SAD#because we never knew the real him…#AND I THINK AHOUT#about Blackquill…#blackbright please save me BUT YOU CANT BC ONE OF YOU IS FAKE#SIMON NEVER GOT TO KNOW THE REAL BOBBY#I really like the theory that Bobby was Sebastian’s older brother (i haven’t played AAI2 yet shh)#and like…he would have been friends with everyone….BUT NOO#LIKE CMON I DREW BOBBY BEING AN ANNOYING YOUNGER BROTHER FIGURE TO GUMSHOE MONTHS BACK#AND THEN A FEW **DAYS** AFTER I DREW THAT I WAS SPOILED ABOUT THE PHANTOM#BY BOBBY’S WIKI PAGE#I WAS JUST LOOKING FOR THE DUDE’S HEIGHT AND I GOT ENDGAME SPOILERS LIKE BRO WHAT#I WAS DEVASTAED#anyways yeah thanks Capcom for putting Phoenix’s face on that body hehehehehehehehe
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I did some twists and turns to the Dreamtale I included in the server me an my friends rp in, and I’ve been kinda hyper fixated so I did a little thing
I don’t like perspective but im going to have to eventually learn, soul shattering I will never be the same once i dominate it
Yea the fucking tree told him to shoot night because everyone is so mean to him so I just yknow she might as well also be mean to a fucking seven year old who knew no better 
Dreamtale (Dream and Nightmare) Belong to Jokublog
#undertale au#utmv#dream sans#nightmare sans#dreamtale#wow jaja im actually normal for once?? I don’t have anything to bark at but WROFO WROOF AUUUUUUUU howling in pain for them they are devasta#I love them sosososo much I have been putting Dreamtale animations on loop and songs that remind me of them I love them I want to hold them#and give them hugs and tea and give their little heads little kisses and and show them that they both deserve to be loved#I want to show Dream how to read and write and I want to comfort nightmare i want to tell him that he’s capable of being loved too and he#deserves the world#I cried I cry I always cry when I think of them I will always cry for them I will always mourn for them they have my entire being and soul#would kill for them please be nice to them they have done nothing but suffer and cry and be angry I need them to be happy please let them b#happy please I cannot explain how much I want to scream and bang my head on a wall when I think of them and their relationship I break and#cry urgrurghr why why why why why I have such a brain rot I just want to see them hangout and smile and call each other brothers and call#each other family I need them to gossip and pinky promise and cook together I need nightmare to teach dream to read and write and dream to#teach nightmare how to have fun and heal their inner child I need them to do brotherly things and cause destruction together
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One of those day when you perfectly visualize the clothes that match your vibe then you realize you don't have th wardrobe to actually match your vibe
#idk rambles#absolute fucking tragedy#i just wanna fit the vibe#the brain nyoom#but nooooo#i filled my wardrobe with clothes that dont match the vibe#and now that means if i want my vibe i must partake in CAPITALISM#ACTUALLY DEVASTAED
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My most listened to song by The Crane Wives was Take Me To War and I think that's ays enough about my mental health this year /j
#absolutely devastaed that 3/5 of my top artists are song vrand of folk#and yet my top genre was indie pop /lh#also im sorry mutuals i like a mother mother song do you guys still think im cool :( /lh#this did remind me i got to see poppy in concert this year though that was cool :^)#also i think the contrast between my top songs and my top artists is a little funny
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SO i finished xenoblade 3 and i dont think im ever gonna recover from it
what a fucking game man. what a fucking game.
finished it at 95 hours on the dot. incredible
#and i still have a bunch of stuff to do#plus stuff thats opened up in the post game#but my god#my fucking god#only complaint is the final boss doesnt have checkpoints and getting sent back to the start during the final phase?#devastaing </3 never want to see his ugly mug ever again#step right up! || 🪄.txt
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glad people have said nice things abt my typography bcus god was that so excruciating the amount of guides I had to create to align & space everything properly.. the arranging & rearranging... the goddamn angles.....
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Icebound
icebound definition: surrounded, obstructed, or covered by ice.
In which Zane uses his element against the Overlord to save the city and his friends. Because it wasn’t about numbers, it was about family.
❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️
It is the end, and Zane knows it.
The Overlord is conquering Ninjago City, webs of gold stringing across buildings like Christmas lights and tying up his friends like flies. They struggle, but it is useless under the might of the Overlord.
Zane flips out of the way of a golden band reaching to ensnare him and lands on a roof. All of his friends are tied up, and only Zane is free. He knows what he has to do. He is the only one who can.
“Support me, friends. For one last time.”
He takes a running leap off the ledge, and Jay flips midair so his feet plant squarely on top of his. Then Cole, Lloyd, Kai, Sensei Garmadon, and Wu.
He soars, flying straight at the Overlord, and grabs onto his golden fangs.
Immediately, he feels its power, and its agony. Pain rips into every crevice of his body; his jolts rattle and shake and his wires spark under his skin.
“Let my friends go!” Zane shouts.
“Go where, Doomed Ninja?” The Overlord sneers. Its eyes, red and hateful, glare into him.
Zane writhes under the immense pain and power. His body cannot handle it, he knows, and he feels himself falling apart under it.
“The Golden Weapons are too powerful for you to behold. Your survival chance is low.”
But Zane isn’t trying to hold them. He’s trying to destroy them.
He thinks of his brothers. He thinks of PIXAL. He thinks of his father. He thinks of an old man with long white hair as pure as snow and ice blue eyes that visited him a long time ago, who had come and left as quickly as winter did and had breathed that power into him because he saw him worthy of it.
“This … isn’t about numbers … It's about family!”
The golden webs holding the Ninja fall and they escape. He can hear them screaming, telling him to let go, and he thanks them for that. Wu and Garmadon grab onto them and yank them back, away from the oncoming destruction.
His core — his heart — started reaching critical mass. Frost began creeping upon the Overlord’s fangs. Something blue and blinding in his heart freezes under his power, and Zane embraces it. It's his power. His choice.
“I am a Nindroid. And Ninja never quit. Go Ninja … go!”
He is the Master of Ice. He was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. He stands for peace, freedom, and courage in the face of all who threaten Ninjago.
Frostbite burns his skin away; jolt and wires freeze under the cold; until he is left completely bare.
The last glimpse they get of Zane is him surrounded by a blizzard of his own making, bright and beautiful like a supernova. Burning blue and white with the terrible brilliance of his own determined choice.
Zane died; not as a machine, not as a human, not as a tool of anyone or anything — but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves.
And woke up as something completely different.
❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️
PIXAL climbs her way up the steep cliff side, careful to place her foot in secure crevices in case she slipped and fell from the icy mountain. Heavy snow blinded her vision as the blizzard whipped around her, but she kept her pace steady and sure.
It had been months since she had left Ninjago City and began her search. Months since Zane’s death and memorial. PIXAL knew, logically, that she should be back there, properly mourning him. But she could not.
He had never given up on her, not when she was under the Overlord’s control or when she was struggling with the newness of emotions.
And that meant she could never give up on him.
When she had first met Zane, she became more than a machine meant to function. He was vital to her, and she was a part of him.
She carried half his heart, and against all logical explanations, she knew he was still alive.
She did not tell the Ninja of her suspicions: the immediate aftermath of Zane’s loss had been devastating. She’d watched as the team fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise. She did not tell Cyrus Borg where she was going either, for she knew if he begged her to stay, she would.
If she had told them she had seen a snowy wraith emerge from the destruction of the frozen, apocalyptic atmosphere on the rooftop, she would have been told she had imagined it due to her grief.
And while she was grieving, she was not imagining it. She is a Nindroid, and she did not have an imagination. PIXAL was built to observe, to analyze, to collect data and gather information. She built theories and hypothesized, not assumed.
So she followed the signs. She kept track of all weather anomalies that happened across Ninjago — sudden snowstorms, cold drops in temperatures that swept through small villages and towns. It led her all across the country until it ended here, with her climbing up the frozen, snow-peaked mountain.
Finally, PIXAL arrived at her destination.
The Ice Temple.
Slowly, she makes her way towards it. Her sensors indicate the temperature dropping the closer she gets. For a normal human, they would have already gotten frostbite without the proper equipment and numb with it, but PIXAL was made of metal. The cold did not bother her.
She peers into the glacial architecture, but does not enter. Or more like, she is unable to. It feels as if there is some sort of force of winter that is keeping her at bay.
“Zane?” Hope finds its way into the desperation of her voice. Freezing winds whip her hair out of its ponytail and against the purple circuits on her cheeks, but she barely notices. “Is that you?”
There’s nothing except for the howling wind, then her eyes catch movement. Slowly, almost like a ghost, a figure starts to come closer, making a shape against the blizzard.
If PIXAL had lungs, all the air would have rushed out of them.
A being made of pure winter floated in front of her. Formed of ice and frost and molded by the wind, it stood there and looked at her. Opaque ice carved the face that has been imprinted in her memory drives, the one she had traveled across the entire world to see again.
It was frozen, and beautiful, and Zane.
Inside her neural drive, alarms were blaring into her system, flashing behind her eyes. Warning: Severe weather alert. Temperature reaching sub-zero levels. Retreat into a warmer climate —
PIXAL shut off the notifications.
“Hello,” she says. Zane does not move. She dares a step closer. “Do you recognize me?”
He says nothing, so PIXAL continues on. It feels like their roles were reversed when they first met: she, the one struck speechless by the other’s beauty. Him, stoic to it all.
“I’m PIXAL, the Primary Interactive X-ternal Assistant Lifeform. I’m a … friend. I came searching for you to bring you home. There are things about you that you don’t understand. That you have yet to discover. I am here to help you remember.”
Zane is quiet, but she senses that he is listening. Something glowing in her chest aches.
“It is alright if you don’t remember me,” PIXAL says. She cannot cry, but is she would she could. She is still new to emotions, and many are overwhelming her: joy and grief and something fierce and pure deep in her heart. “I remember you. And we are still compatible.”
Zane tilts his head and drifts closer. The snow slows its fall, the wind stopping altogether. Snowflakes gently coat her hair. Now that he is closer, she can see the differences that make him unlike the old Zane: he doesn’t have the one dimple on the right side of his cheek, or the small beauty mark on his collarbone, or the tiny scar on his index finger from his shuriken.
But he is still Zane, even as an icy spirit.
She held out a hand. “Your brothers miss you very much. Will you come back with me, Zane?”
He is silent, staring at her. Unlike before, it is impossible to know what he is thinking. She gazes up at him, imploring. His eyes have no irises or pupils, so she is simply staring up at pinpricks of pure blue light.
Slowly, his hand reaches out of her.
BANG!
A loud sound echoes across the ice, and out of nowhere chains of Vengestone come flying out and capture him.
Fear slams into her. “Zane!” PIXAL cries.
Ice races out from his body and across the chains as Zane struggles, but no matter what, he can’t break them.
PIXAL whips around to face the assailant.
A man in his thirties, wrapped in a thick parka to prevent the cold and wearing a red mask. He has shoulder-length brown hair and is wearing a dyed red straw hat, and under it she can see he is hiding an eyepatch.
“What are you doing?” PIXAL shouts. Anger — an emotion she rarely feels — burns through her.
The man lowers his gun and pulls out another one before she can even blink.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Just following orders.”
Before she can question what that means, he fires. A net tangles her limbs together and brings her down against the cold snow. Before she can fight against it, electricity courses through her.
And then everything went black.
#ninjago#ninjago fic#ninjago au#ninjago seabound#reboot au#ninjago pixane#zane julien#pixal borg#ninjago ronin#ninjago overlord#kai smith#jay walker#cole brookstone#lloyd garmadon#ninjago wu#ninjago garmadon
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Per quanto dovrei essere preparato, a volte il mio lavoro mi devasta. Ieri notte alle 2 una ragazza di 32 anni è morta annegata dopo un incidente stradale e questa mattina i miei colleghi, al cambio, ancora erano shockati: alcuni piangevano, altri erano gusci vuoti. Oggi ho lasciato scorrere tra le mie mani una ragazza di 31 anni, vittima solo di una malformazione genetica che l’ha portata all’arresto cardiaco per una stronzata. Una ragazza che poi, per una serie di vicende, avevo conosciuto e ci avevo pure scherzato insieme. 31 anni come la figlia del mio autista, come la figlia dell’infermiere, un anno più giovane del medico rianimatori. L’età di A. È tutto il giorno che reprimo sta cosa mangiando colomba in sede con la tv e il suo trash in sottofondo che nessuno interrompe con commenti o stronzate. La stanza è piena, ma nessuno è lì. E ora sono a casa, seduto all’ingresso che piango a fiotte rivedendo tutto e piu vedo immagino e piu piango. E potrei parlarne con J o A o chiamare i miei o tutto insieme ma i maledetti pensieri intrusivi mi fanno ricordare ciò che una mia ex tossica mi disse 6/7 anni fa “la gente non è un diario, se hai bisogno di sfogarti scrivi su un quaderno e lasciaci in pace” “sei egocentrico alla gente non frega un cazzo perche tu parli parli e spesso manco si capisce se ascolti”. Il gatto non capisce ma sente che qualcosa non va e mi sbatte la coda nel naso. E mi ripeto sta cosa che dico sempre spesso ai miei amici che pare una battuta, ma non lo è: che difficile essere me
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Devo scrivere e sfiatare un po'.
Quando passo queste mezze giornate con nonna sono un po' triste, un po' serena, un po' tante cose. Sento il bisogno fisiologico di passare questo tempo con lei, con foga, come fossi una sanguisuga, come se dovessi riempire fino all'orlo una giara enorme, già bella piena ma non abbastanza, sento come se ogni giorno insieme fosse un piccolo bicchiere da svuotarci dentro e ho, inevitabilmente, meno tempo di quanto vorrei per farla traboccare.
Sento a tratti che la soglia del pianto, durante la giornata insieme o come ora che scrivo, si alza fisicamente. Dallo sterno si alza verticalmente, arriva al palato che premo con la lingua e a volte mi solletica le narici. Se arriva a solleticare le narici e a premere sotto gli occhi sono fregata. Quindi mi distraggo e vado a prendere la crema per le mani e gliela metto, la accarezzo e le faccio tante battute divertenti, mi faccio dare i bacini e ci prendiamo in giro, vado a prenderle dei fiorellini in giardino e glieli porto tra le mani.
Mi devasta l'aver imparato a parlare con tranquillità delle varie problematiche familiari che circondano questa situazione, dei suoi bisogni, della sua serenità e delle mancanze delle altre persone. Ecco vedi ora come preme sul palato, col cazzo che ho imparato. Non ho imparato niente ma forse fingo meglio di aver imparato? Ma che ne so.
Ecco, ho fiatato un pochino.
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La parola di oggi è RABBIA.
Sentimento esageratamente forte.
Parte dalle mani e si diffonde rapidamente in ogni punto del corpo: ci devasta, perfino gli occhi sembrano schizzare dalle orbite, e non vediamo più nulla.
Ci sentiamo isolati in un vortice e rivoltati fin nelle viscere.
Il respiro si fa affannoso, il cuore batte all'impazzata.
Le tempie pulsano, le narici si dilatano, i denti digrignano.
Se siete arrivati fin qui, vi sarete detti " che energia!"
Già.
Infatti dopo l'esplosione di rabbia, arriva il crollo.
Il corpo non regge.
Si fiacca, si spossa,le conseguenze a volte sono fatali e comunque dalla rabbia non si esce indenni: qualche parte dell'organismo si ammala.
La domanda a questo punto è: vale la pena?
(Angela P.)
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🔥In un uomo amo l'erotismo, quello vero.
La magia, il saper sfiorare,
il saper entrare senza forza fisica,
ma con tutta la potenza mentale
di un desiderio.
Non è la potenza con cui lo fai,
ma è quello che scateni anche solo
con un tocco lieve,
un impercettibile movimento
che dà un brivido piccolo,
e dentro si espande e devasta tutto il resto.
E ciò che devasta i pensieri,
si appropria anche del corpo.
E quando un uomo, senza forza bruta,
riesce a fare questo,
è decisamente un uomo.♠️
(Yelena b.)
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Secondo te Geolier tornerà a Sanremo? Io ho paura di no, ma magari sto proiettando il mio modo di pensare. Perché è tutto il giorno che sia io che mia nonna stiamo un po’ male sulla question, c’è rimasto l’amaro in bocca ecco, nulla di serio, la nostra seconda scelta era comunque la Mango, però ecco che magari la speranza di un suo ritorno ci farebbe sentire meglio. Specialmente mia nonna, odio vederla giù.
Buona giornata🩵
Non credo tornerà, il suo obiettivo l'ha raggiunto, ha sfidato Sanremo e permettimi di dire, ha vinto. Una canzone in napoletano così in alto? Una canzone in napoletano che addirittura devasta il televoto e ottiene il 60% dei voti? Le radio, la stampa, i detrattori, i razzistoni e compagnia possono raccontarsela quanto vogliono, hanno dovuto farla sporca per non farlo andare a casa con la palma di Sanremo.
Per il resto credo che la partecipazione di Geolier potrebbe cambiare qualcosa, ad esempio potrebbe incoraggiare a portare più dialetti e lingue minoritarie a Sanremo, per non parlare del rap/trap che si sta sdoganando sempre di più nella competizione. Quindi per me, nonostante tutto, ci saranno conseguenze positive da questo Sanremo.
Angelina è mostruosa, almeno Geolier è stato robbato da una persona di talento, e questo mi consola abbastanza, cioè meglio lei (o ghali) di altri.
buona giornata anche a te🩵🩵🩵
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Random female NPCs I'd romance the shit out of if it was possible
Starting with a classic: Alfira (a no brainer, really. I was devastaed when durge killed her)
Another favorite: Dalyria
Daring option, but one I would be totally willing to take: Nine Fingers Keene
the most recent obsession: Nym Orlith (she did all of this to save her brother, she's so brave and cute and .... pleeease larian)
Now for the more random options: Brynna (way too hot for an NPC)
Apikusis (it might be the hair)
honorable mention: Roah Moonglow (love me a murky rude trader)
Did I miss anyone?
#saw this with male npcs and had to do it with the females#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 npcs#roah moonglow#spawn dalyria#dalyria#nym orlith#nine fingers keene#apikusis#alfira#brynna bg3#hot npcs#let me romance them#why so hot if not romance
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sul raaaamo del lago di coooomo
inizia quel tooomo che ti devasta con i suoi trentotto capitoli 🎶
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Lunedì di pasquetta ormai terminato.
C'è chi avrà fatto la gita fuoriporta, chi la grigliata con famigliari e amici.
Io giornata alternativa....
Antincendio boschivo.....
Fuoco
Fumo tanto fumo(niente arrosto)....
Polvere...
Acqua
Tanta acqua.... (Erickson s-64)
Molta fatica...
Ma tanta soddisfazione nel potersi rendere utile a cercare di contenere la forza distruttrice del fuoco, che sia per dolo o per pura casualità devasta un grande patrimonio come i nostri boschi...
Antincendiboschivocomunitamontanamorbegno
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Sei la brezza marina che sussurra nelle mie orecchie,
Tu che dolcemente tormenti i miei pensieri,
sei come uno tsunami che mi assale, mi sovrasta e mi devasta,
Tu, la mia dolce perversione,
Tu, la mia voglia più oscura,
Tu che risvegli la Donna, l'amante e la meretrice in me...
Io, serva devota, schiava del tuo inferno, inevitabilmente Tua.
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