#i still dunno how to draw the bastard

[avoidmint]

Redemption didn't cure his bully tendencies.

Don't worry he didn't leave him to drown. There's witnesses.

#sonic forces #sonic au #gadget the wolf #infinite the jackal #sonic fanart #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #Tails and Gadget are ocean fun time buddies and-- come to think of it does the ocean still exist in Forces? I dunno #screenshots show desolate city stuff mostly but yknow what it exists in this AU #well I mean of course it exists but I mean as like a... like a place that is just somewhere you can go and-- no one cares Mint #anyways have a bastard and his forcibly found family #Fun fact also no matter how I draw Sonic he always looks wrong and I have just accepted he will never look right #Shadow looks fine most of the time which just makes it a whole Frustrating Thing but yknow what it's Fine #minturts

[huntunderironskies]

It might not be the type of game for everyone but there's something so fascinating about "daily lives of monsters" type games in Chronicles of Darkness for me. Something about the alienation from human society but the inevitable draw to having to deal with it.

Sure, you might have died last night, and there's a death god sitting on your shoulder who won't shut up but you still have to turn in the rent check tomorrow.

You thought that the shitty dollar store you worked at was sucking your life away, and it turns out not only is it literally doing that, you can now see the spirit baron embodying the store who's controlling it and helping make everyone miserable, and you could try and mobilize against him but it'd take an incredible amount of manpower and resources that you barely have, and you're so tired. Not to mention the power vacuum you'd create and the fact being too heavy-handed with one spirit court is going to potentially turn all the other ones against you and that spirit baron is a petty little bastard who'd probably start targeting your mortal loved ones just to get you to back off.

The trods need constant maintaining and somehow you got talked into being a Summer Courtier so it's your problem. So you go off into the Hedge and just hope you come back at a reasonable time because you sure as hell can't afford to miss a shift, or for that matter that you even return in the right timeline. The hobs are fine compared to the absolute dread each time you unlock a Hedgegate. But hey. Goblin Fruits are pretty filling and sometimes the Absinthal gives you free booze, so your grocery bill's gone down.

Drag yourself into a dead-end job and hide in the bathroom when your Scars act up. Memorize where the cameras are on the path there. Pray it doesn't take more than fifteen minutes because that's all you're legally allotted for the day. You can't have your boss coming in and seeing you like this. For one thing, he'd give you an infraction and you're already on your second strike, and for another you're about sixty percent sure that this company is a subsidiary for the Conspiracy that made you. You can't get fired, or caught.

I dunno! We do a lot of chest beating about how the personal horror aspects of being a monster, and to be fair that is fun, but for me there's something a lot more interesting to me about how being a monster can expose the innately monstrous aspects of modern human society. Probably not a coincidence all of the examples above are capitalism induced. Also this is a very messy off-the-cuff post so hopefully it makes sense.

#chronicles of darkness #world of darkness #changeling the lost #deviant the renegades #werewolf the forsaken #thoughts and things #fair warning this is the kind of game i like to run so apologies in advance

[navy-leader]

Little question: How do you see the relationship between the four Hollow Heads?

A little complicated ! in the fewest words possible

I like to switch up my headcanons for these guys cause theyre just fun to play with and different relationship statuses give a different perception to their interactions but the one(s) ive been mostly going off of is:

- They are not siblings, and the only thing in common in anything of similar regard is being made from the same creator

- They have a weird intrinsic connection with eachother, i like to call it soulmates but its not the same way as youd think. They take on features of the other(s), which ive shown visually through their eye colors

- Weird reincarnation bullshit atla style but not exactly because noone is dead for realsies. I think i best explained it in this post, however with the added addition that victim is NOT DEAD..so we just dunno whats going on orz

Now onto the specific pairings:

- Im a big fan of chodark so youd often see me draw em in a more romantic way, but i like em in whatever form they come in, the important thing is theyre fucked up together. They are crazy codependent, being the only company eachother have for like?? 8 years?? They drive eachother crazy and fight tons but theyre all they have so they still cherish their bond. Communcation skills 0. Dark is a lot more peppy about life, while Chosen's taken to sulking more often than not but he tries to cheer up for Dark's sake. They both have their problems, Dark still tries to attack Chosen on a regular basis because of his coding, and Chosen has been trying to recover from everything that happened from noogai's pc, they try to make it work 👍

- Countering the first point on this response,,, i like Chosen and Victim as twins,, i feel it adds a layer to their (what could be) relationship, sharing the same face, same woes with their origins, but turning out sososo different but still The Same. Makes me feel some typa way

- Victim and Second are sooooo special to me, i hope they interact in future episodes;;;; The first creation all jaded and wrathful about its creator, and rightfully so! Having been given the worst end of the stick while the other, the latest creation, young and hopeful, treated the best out of all his predecessors and given Everything that they never gotten. Victim is mad salty about all that and hugely envious, but hes more on exacting his revenge on noogai and making Second watch. In another world they couldve been friends, animating/drawing buddies perhaps...

- Chosen and Second ! Weve already seen what their dynamic is (or atleast in that specific situation) so ive not added more to it. Honestly been treating their relationship as a rebound from chodark,,,,,,, Yakno chosen just got out of the house to actually talk to other people other than Dark, finds a nice sunshiney stick to his dark and gloomy demeanor and things are good ! Their relationship could be something really special if they were to find themselves in a different situation than the one theyre in;;;

- I honestly do Not know what Victim and Dark would be like together other than the crackship of "evil girls who make out with eachother as their exes watch" but yakno ! Hollowhead Whore Saturday. Honestly it depends on what kinda villain victim is and how dark is like after getting her ass handed to her

- Weve seen Second and Dark but other than that i think if Dark were alive and got to hang out with the others and Second, she would be scared shitless of Second or Dark would act as a high and mighty bastard and Second gets a bit pissed off about her attitude at some point

This got a bit long but hrhrghrheh the hollowheads r so special to me,,,the one common thing about them is originating form the same creator and they all turned out so different and yet they have so many similarities between eachother hrhrgrhrggrhhrhr

#asks #animation vs animator #ava ships #chodark

[bosskie]

Success

Man, just got some new ideas what kind of Molluck stuff to draw... So yeah, I just felt like kinda recreating that one Molluck concept art piece like this since man, it's such a handsome piece of art and I love it! Though, this is still a sketch-like thing. He just looks somehow so pleased there that I wanted to keep that emotion here. But I have also wanted to draw Molluck around neon lights for some time, so I kinda combined these two ideas.

I feel like I have somehow understood how to deal with this paper, though I wouldn't use it for proper stuff and it's actually sketching paper, so yeah, just for sketching. I do like how crayon-like these colour pencils look and how well they mix and blend. I don't know how usual it is for artists to feel clueless about what they are doing... I mean, I just had no idea again how to create the colours of Molluck's head with this light but I could figure out good enough colours. It just feels like there somewhere I might know what I'm doing but my conscious mind doesn't...

Frankly, I'm unsure of what suit to draw Molluck wearing since it's unknown if this version of Molluck had a purple suit too... That one Molluck doll in the opening cutscene has that old design, but it might be a 'legacy thing', something that was created before Molluck got his new design I mean, and they didn't bother to change it. In the SoulStorm artbook it can be seen that first, they did use the New 'n' Tasty model (but you can also see that Gluk model in that Vykker's Lab's test cutscene thing; I still wonder who that Gluk is, just cannot be totally sure if it's Molluck or not... He owns the SoulStorm Brewery though.). But I personally prefer this suit for this Molluck, so I draw him wearing it. Dunno if he has multiple different suits or if he is one of those who just has multiple 'copies' of the same outfit...

But yeah, I also got another idea that I tried to figure out first but I wasn't pleased enough with my realization idea of it, so I let it be for now. But that idea was related to the shady side of his business. But despite of realizing that side of him, I'm still unable to see him as evil... It's just much more complex than that and I don't like to simplify things being just 'good' or 'evil'. He didn't found RuptureFarms but was sent to lead it. But it seems that the SoulStorm brew was developed during his time, at least SoulStorm gives this impression. It also came to my mind to think how Molluck called Abe 'uneducated', which strengthens my view of that Molluck has been taught to be like this, grown up having these views, but he also lives in a cruel world, so he gotta do what he needs to in order to survive. Man, I really wish to know how Gluks are educated... Like, how and what did Molluck study...

But I do love this Gluk, no matter what he has done. I just don't wanna care about moral stuff here. If he is a bastard, then we are bastards together! Yeah, like I have said multiple times, I'm a 'Glukhugger'. They have just been always my fave species in Oddworld... I cannot help it, I just love them!

#molluck #oddworld molluck #molluck the glukkon #oddworld #art like a bosskie

[stillsolo]

@vicioushope 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 :: " i assume that the rumors surrounding you are all false and unrelated to why you're bleeding out on my sofa? "

               𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙰𝚆𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝙹𝚈𝙽’𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙻𝙴𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙴𝙻𝚈 ,  han solo turned away to scowl up at the ceiling.

❝just thought your sofa might need some redecorating, so here i am.❞  solo waved his good arm, the action halting and cut short with a hiss.  shavit—was he still bleeding?  jaw set taut, he rolled his shoulders, finally working off the soaked fabric that seemed adhered to his skin, sliding it down his biceps until it gathered at his elbows.  ❝y’know i like to accessorize with red.  adds contrast—and character.❞

jokes aside, he’d made it out alive, hadn’t he?  han flexed his fingers and winced at the discomfort lancing up his side.  injuries had long ago become the norm for him, and he was no stranger to pain, but… come to think of it, han couldn’t recall the last time he came across a sleemo whose skill with a blaster perhaps rivaled his own.  the slimy bastard had intercepted him while crossing the docks, emerging from between a stack of crates before demonstrating one hell of a quick draw.  it would’ve fetched him a genuine compliment if he didn’t immediately level the blaster at han’s center mass, like this was a stickup and han wasn’t the type of man who’d shoot first and ask questions later.

❝so, rumors, huh?  dunno ’bout that, but y’know how it is.  people love to talk; they make me sound more exciting than i actually am.❞  with his head still spinning and his shoulder burning something fierce, han slanted a sideways grin at a face he hadn’t seen in over a year.  ❝you keepin’ tabs on me?❞

he should’ve taken the guy more seriously though, especially after his furious spluttering about a botched job and lost credits, that it was han’s fault his sweetheart had left him high and dry.  it all painted a picture han was pretty sure he had nothing to do with.  regardless, it’d been mistake to try reasoning with a nova-happy kreetle clearly off his repulsors.  as for his final mistake?  well, in hindsight, han reckoned that telling the guy to go frink himself was probably not the best way to deescalate the situation, but how could he have known the bastard had brought muscle with him?  like a mynock out of hell, the gran dropped in fast, closing the distance between them and nailing han square in the face, leaving him stunned and disoriented.

    memory blurred beyond that point.    han only vaguely recalled spotting a prybar and the stark flash of a vibroblade powering on in the dark; his own startled shouts of pain amid the thunderous drumming of his heart, and an additional mix of voices, lost somewhere in the commotion…  han shut his eyes and shook his head, letting a breath go slowly before he tugged at the rest of his dirtied clothes with sudden haste.

 they could chat about what happened later, preferably after he plugged what bloody holes now littered his body.

#vicioushope #( . libby!! sorry im SO late‚ lmk if i need to change anything!! #( . if han's injuries look confusing i want u to know i‚ too‚ am confused by my icon that i made for this thread #( . i have no idea where the hell he's actually injured lmao so feel free to go wild with it #( . was he shot ? stabbed ?? no idea bye #( . btw idk if you wanna continue our other threads but i re-read our last one and didn't cringe to death so im down lol #˒・*。◞ ( answered ) *･ﾟ✧ ⎸ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ‚ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ. #˒・*。◞ 001 : ( verse ) sᴛᴀʀ ᴡᴀʀs. *･ﾟ✧ ⎸ ɢᴏ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ‚ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴇsᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ.

[leupagus]

I got tagged! For a writing meme!

I never get tagged, this is so exciting! The excellent @connachta, whose fic you should go read right now, tagged me for Out Of Touch Thursday, and in keeping with the apparent theme I’m so out of touch that I don’t actually know what Out Of Touch means in this context. But the general idea seems to be to post something in the fic you’re working on, or one of the fics you’re working on. So here you go:

"Whatever, we do this and we stay alive, all right? Both of us."

"And then what?" Frenchie demands, keeping his voice as low as he can. "We escape? You think we can just steal a dinghy and row ourselves to freedom, is that it?"

"I don't know, maybe," snaps Jim. "It's not impossible."

"It's… fairly impossible, mate," Frenchie says, as gentle as he can. He forgets that Jim's not a sailor, and probably thinks the whole Caribbean's the size of a small lake.

"Okay, then we wait for a rescue," Jim says, stowing the knives in various pockets and sheaths.

"A rescue from who? There's nobody—" Frenchie stops, trying to comprehend the depth of Jim's idiocy. "You can't possibly think think that Stede Fucking Bonnet is going to sail back into our lives and, what, suck Blackbeard's cock good enough that he gives up his life of crime," he says, disbelieving. "Can you?"

Jim shrugs. "Never underestimate the power of a good cocksucking, I always say."

Frenchie wants to tear his own head off. "Okay, granted, but we don't even know if he's still alive! Or where he is! He could still be at that fucking privateer camp, for all we know!"

"So we find out for sure!" Jim hisses, getting as far up in his face as they're capable. It's hard to remember how short Jim really is; they take up more space than most. Maybe it's the hat. "And who knows, Oluwande might find us instead — the rest of the crew, they were marooned, not murdered, remember?"

"Marooning is just like, lazy murder," Frenchie says, because if he had tuppence for every deserted island in the Caribbean that was riddled with skeletons from some poor marooned bastards, he'd have three shillings sixpence.

"Sure," Jim says, waving a hand, "But it's not like Blackbeard killed anybody. So—"

"He killed Lucius," Frenchie snaps. Some part of him enjoys how Jim startles at that. "I suppose that don't count, since Lucius wouldn't exactly be captaining a ship. But yeah, he killed somebody."

"He killed Lucius?" Jim asks. It's the first time Frenchie's ever heard them sound… small.

"Pushed him overboard, the night before he went insane. Maybe that's what did it, I dunno." Frenchie didn't even find out for a few days after the rest of the crew was forced off; it was Fang who told him, sniffling and asking if the boy's lovely drawings had been thrown overboard, too. "Point is, you made this deal with someone who's not got a great track record as it concerns our former co-workers."

"Maybe," says Jim, and swallows. "But Oluwande's gotten out of bigger messes than a little involuntary island vacation. He'll figure something out. And we've got to be ready for when that happens, okay Francés? You with me on this?" They make to spit on their palm.

It's common enough, even if he's never been a particular fan: a spit and a handshake, a deal between pirates, mutually beneficial and hard to break. "Is that what you did with Blackbeard, then?" he asks.

Hard to break, but not impossible.

Jim looks back at him for a long moment, then pulls out one of their knives. "Fine," they mutter — and make a small cut on their thumb, pressing the blood into their palm. "We both stay alive, whatever it takes," they say, holding the knife out to Frenchie, handle-first.

He takes the knife and does the same to his thumb, flinching only a bit. "Whatever it takes," he says, ignoring the bile rising in his throat as he takes their hand, "We both stay alive."

Tagging @angryonabus, @whetherwoman, @kiraziwrites, @praycambrian, and @auntieclimactic!

#FRENCHIE+JIM=BEST FRIENDS FOREVER #honestly writing them together is so fun they're both such hissing cats #ficcage of interest #boys in the band ordered boat drinks #our flag means death motherfuckers #ofmd fic

[nami-ramen]

I still dunno how to draw this bastard

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat hank #madcom hank #hank j. wimbleton

[izzy-dearest]

Love the Shuri and Namor drawing! I was meant to see Strange World yesterday, but the sound wasn't working, so I ended up watching Black Panther and I really liked it! When Shuri spares Namor's life, I said "I would have just killed the bastard." 😂

I can see where Namor is coming from and why he wants to take over everything, but I dunno, I still would have killed him considering how much he took from Shuri. One of the funniest parts for me was at the end when Okoye is breaking Martin Freeman out of the van - a coloniser in chains, now I've seen everything.

honestly that movie was the only "vengeance is bad don't kill them" that worked because their nations was on the line, i don't think she would even bother to tolerate him for a long while though poor girl deserves a break. and that okoye scene was one of the funniest things in the movie lmao i love her

#not critizing the ship #so stay away weirdos #namor #wakanda forever #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #tenoch huerta #mcu namor #namor mcu #queen shuri #shuri #mcu shuri #shuri black panther #okoye #general okoye

[izepeche]

I am new to the strange obsession, but oh my gosh your works are amazing. I just want sinister strange to do whatever he wants and for me to say thanks afterwards.

I dunno what to say omg thank you thank you thank you love 🥺✨ im honestly surprised ppl still show up on my blog lol

I have so many things I wanna do but with my condition i can’t do much but i should be fully cleared to go home by tuesday ✨

but i agree. i was never really into Strange until this movie. i mean i love his design and ive drawn him many times before but idk he just didnt speak to me before now.

i have the filthiest shit to write and draw i am so vile and feral because of it but so is he. they knew exactly what they were doing when then designed him omfg. i have a HC that he’s really into bondage (including self bondage) and its killing me. its killing me that i cant write it all rn.

you did not ask for this, so i apologize in advance. but ive had this little thing rolling in my head so -

Sinister seems like he used to be a professor and its driving me crazy thinking about him in a AU being the low toned sort of teacher who everyone respects. never raises his voice (and doesnt have to) to get his pupils to behave because he’s also silently terrifying. you can hear a pin drop in his class, even when its a study period and he’s sipping his coffee and reading a book. could probably make a student cry without even trying, without even looking at them (tho he will glance to see the tears) and would secretly enjoy it because he’s a bloody bastard. takes no shit and is clearly passionate about teaching and I just wanna see him in glasses and at a desk fiddling with papers? like look-

In this Professor Sinister! AU id say he definitely smells like dark roast coffee and old books. wears a sort of musky, old timey smelling cologne with spicy citrus notes. keeps to himself, doesn’t really interact with the other professors, but may strike up a short conversation with maintenance or the cleaning staff in the evening. even though he’s a strict man he sports a more casual appearance than one would think. im thinking just regular slacks n shoes, rolled up sleeves to his forearms, usually wears a black turtleneck or dark button down shirt with a few too many buttons open if the AC is busted (again), thick salt and pepper hair slightly tussled as its been run through by his fingers because these fucking kids can’t even double space their essays how did they pass high-school.

crystal eyes lingering a bit too long on an unsuspecting pupil who is always well behaved and attentive. openly teases them to the point of hot embarrassment when they ask to be excused to the restroom, even though they asked so nicely and they really have to go. but ,” ah, ah, not until i say so.” “you know you just went 10 minutes ago” “you took too long last time”

purposefully writes comments on their papers ‘see me after class’, even if its the most well-written dissertation he’s read all year. he’s rather knowledgeable and will always find something to offer correction on. as ‘punishment’, he tells them to help him prepare for the next class by writing what he tells them on the chalkboard. this is when his usual low key tone, shifts to something else.

The professor not so subtly stares at them, scrutinizing their handwriting and how their dainty wrists move under his command. no, Professor Strange definitely does not get off to how they struggle when he asks them to write higher, up on their tip toes and a bit wobbly. he’ll make them erase a whole line if they make a single mistake in their penmanship (which is easy because of how tired and cramped they are getting). he’ll cruelly mock them, “are you getting distracted?” “we can try something easier if this is too hard for you” “why are you stopping, you’re not finished yet” “i mean, Jesus, it looks awful. but i guess if that’s the best you can do-“

and if he’s feeling particularly snippy he’ll snap a ruler on his desk to startle them, possibly messing them up further, barely bothering to stop the smile dancing on his lips. he still throws in a smart ‘thank you’ when theyre done that definitely doesn’t make up for his brash behavior. its hard to tell if his harsh interactions are serious or a ploy of flirtation, but its intense enough to get under the skin every time that they are completely flustered when they gather their things to leave his room.

its wrong to be tormenting his own innocent pupil like this- many would say the poor thing doesn’t deserve it and the professor's intentions aren’t noble. but its not wrong if they keep coming back, right? not that he gives a damn, nor gives them much of a choice; he’s not exactly a model on morality. besides, a man can have a little fun, no?

i just- love him. i love him i love him

as soon as i saw him i knew it was curtains for me. he is utter perfection because sinister is just so fucking broken and deliciously unhinged and loosely disguised as a quiet gentleman. i love the fact he’s self aware enough to know he’s a filthy bastard but he just. doesnt. care. and like great! neither do i sweetheart. id beg this man to break me, and like please sir call me all the names.

#sinister strange #dsmom #can you tell ive been waiting to be able to type again #but also thank you ✨ #im practically vibrating with need #im depraved #delusional #but not dehydrated #mcu #dr strange #sinister strange au #strange x reader

[takerfoxx]

The Sandman, Season 1, Episode 8, "Playing House," First Impressions!

Wow, there is a lot to unpack here.

I suspect that this is probably a pretty polarizing episode, given how much has been changed and shifted around. And, okay, some of it I liked, some of it I'm raising an eyebrow at but will wait and see where it's going, and some of it could have been done better.

Starting things off with the first category, we have Rose meeting and working with Dream from the onset. This is interesting, as not only does it make Dream a more active participant, it also throws into sharp relief what a cold bastard he can be. Like, his priority is just to use her traits as a Vortex to draw the missing dreams back to him before dealing with her personally. He openly encourages her to look for Jed, but not for her sake; he just wanted to find Gault, and he simply discards Jed once he has her.

But in the process, we got a really cool scene as Rose walks from dream to dream, passing through basically the dreams her housemates had in the last part of The Doll's House comic when she collapsed the walls between their dreams. So I wonder if they're going to get new dreams when that actually happens? Btw, Hal's dream was, um, horrifying! Yeah. Ken was the only one with a new dream, though the jumbled-up writing on the fliers did call back to the font used in his original dreams of sex and money. Now I guess he got caught cheating?

Also, now with Dream there to observe the dreams, is he just like okay with Barbie claiming the Porpentine? Isn't that one of his original dreamstones?

Speaking of Hal, I honestly loved his frustrated little speech about giving up dreams. Like, we know that he's eventually going to achieve his dream with his shock jock drag comedian show, and it's going to turn him into kind of an asshole that has a big falling out with Rose and the Spider Women, but I also really did feel for him. Like, he's doing the best he can and making the most of what he has, but having these big dreams and not making it really stung. It felt very human.

On the parts I'm reserving judgment about, there's Lyta Hall and her dead husband. Huh. Okay, originally Hector Hall was the Silver Age Sandman, except it was all a lie concocted by Brute and Glob (now replaced with Gault), who trapped him inside of Jed's subconscious and built up this weird fantasy to keep him there, and they brought in Lyta as well, who was pregnant for two years until Dream showed up and callously destroyed the dream, punished Brute and Glob, sent Hector to the afterlife, and left Lyta in the wreckage of her life, but not promising to be back to take her son away, given that Daniel had gestated in a Dream. Naturally, she doesn't take this lying down, leading to The Kindly Ones, Dream's death, and Daniel's ascension as the new Dream.

Well, parts of that are here. Sort of. She is in a relationship with her dead husband, who lives in dreams, but she doesn't live with him, only visits when she's asleep, and he wants her to join him. Like, does he want her to kill herself? What is he? He seems more than your average dream. Is it really Hector? The original Hector was still him, albeit his ghost. The fact that Lyta is actually pregnant in the waking world seems to indicate that something's up. It's intriguing, but to be honest, the weirdness of her original story is missed, to go from this silly Silver Age comic to harsh reality and all that. Well, we'll wait and see.

And finally, there's Jed. I was wrong about them not having Silver Age Sandman, because now it's actually Jed filling that role, with Gault still acting as his HQ, disguised as his mom. Okay, this is actually an improvement over the original, as it makes more sense and makes things much more personal. I just wish we could've seen more of it, like just one other scene of him escaping to his superhero fantasy instead of the two we got. I dunno, I just feel that separating Lyta Hall and the Silver Age Sandman sort of dilutes them both? Like if they were afraid it would be too cheesy, it's fine to embrace the cheese!

On a more positive note, the Corinthian continues to be one of the best parts of the season. Hal, yah dodged a bullet there. I do wish we got to see him slaughtering Uncle Barnaby, though with Clarice now an abuse victim as well it would've been...uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable.

I also really liked Gault's speech. I'm still unsure how I feel about Brute and Glob getting cut, but that "Even Nightmares can dream" is a cutting line, especially how it relates to Dream's eventual fate.

...next up is The Collectors.

Okay, yeah. Here we go.

#the sandman #neil gaiman #dream of the endless #rose walker #lyta hall #hector hall #gault #jed walker #the corinthian #playing house #netflix #review

[starzyd13]

Chapter 1: The Curiosity

"Anything?"

Ave pants, running up to the two familiar faces. The cold breeze stinging their faces as they stood idle in the courtyard.

"Ahh. Nothing, nothing as always."

The two boys sighing as she paced back and forth.

Ave taps her fingers against her purse nervously.

"Something else going on…?"

The tallest boy in the group muttered, peering up from his drawn hood. Ave stuttered, "Jamie…what if we had something to do with Dessie's disappearance?!" Both of the boys exchanged glances. Shaking their heads sheepishly. Mikey spat, "Well, well, we- y'know actually. How could they know? HOW could they know?! We never said a word!"

Exchanging anxious glances at each other, the three stared in a fearful silence.

Not even seconds after, the three nearly jumped in surprise as they saw the other addition to the group, running towards them, joyously ignorant to their past doings. Stephan, the beloved partner of their missing friend in question, Desmond. The sounds of his chains and piercings jingling could put Christmas bells to shame as he excitedly charged towards his friends. Panting as he kneeled over, catching his breath.

"Guys! I've made a fucking breakthrough. I….I dunno how nobody has thought of it yet!"

The other three looked at one another in confusion. Has he found Desmond? Impossible. How could he sound so elated when his partner was still missing? This had to be big.

Stephan stood with his mouth hanging open, the words barely on his tongue. Jamie shifts over to him. "Well…?" Stephan grabs Ave and Mikey, drawing them closer to Jamie and himself. The three staring at him in anticipation.

"The fucking "Wactory"….!"

"Wactory". A memory long since lost from the friendgroup's childhood. A worn down, abandoned place they'd run to in the dead of the night. None of them fully knowing if it was an old warehouse, or a factory. And so it was named an amalgamation of the two. It was the children's safe haven, albeit a place ripe with various ways of catching tetanus. However, the abandoned building held many good memories, locked away for years.

Raising her hand in awe of his sharp memory, Ave gestures. "That fucking place yeah….! How didn't we get totally screwed up as kids in that shit-heap?!" Jamie perks up. "The police haven't looked there yet have they? There could be a chance…" Mikey, nervously tapping his fingers, chimes in.

"Heyyyy. So yeah, uh-….not to rain on this parade but. Ya know, like…how Desmond is? They could've. You know…."

Stephan shooting Mikey a disappointed glance for even mentioning such an idea.

"What?"

"You know what. It's not funny..."

Mikey turning to the others, hoping they'd speak up in his favor.

"I wasn't joking. Y-you know how they were-"

"Are."

Stephan narrowed his eyes, stepping away from Mikey, shooting down a peircing gaze towards him with accusatory intent.

"Are...yeah. I'm just saying! They are ummm...ya know. A little unstable at times..."

Stephan charging closer, almost violently towards Mikey, causing Ave to let out a frightened yelp.

"What they've gone through isn't a fucking joke. Or a reference. Or whatever the shit you bastardize it as!"

Ave stepped between the two, pushing them both apart anxiously.

"Just stop, okay. Before this turns into something it doesn't need to..."

Jamie shifts over next to Ave, gesturing.

"Maybe we should look there, ourselves? I mean if they've gone full ghost-mode I think a bunch of police and shit could be...overwhelming, ya know?"

Stephan backed up, scratching his chin.

"Yeah, I think we should. But let me take things on, because uh...well. They trust me-"

Ave raises a brow.

"The hell does that mean?!"

"I'm their boyfriend??! Uhhh, duh!"

"Okay....sure."

Stephan scoffs, throwing his hands up.

"All these years I've....NOT been their boyfriend? Hello?!"

"Not what I meant, fuckface-"

Jamie, putting a hand on Ave's shoulder with the intent of comfort, sighed.

"Didn't you say this shouldn't turn into something unnecessary....?"

The walk was silent. Distant.

Almost as if they were all heading to the abandoned building for completely different reasons from one another. They tread carefully through the first few rooms, calling out to Desmond. Illuminating a path before themselves with their phone lights. Nothing but silence accompanied by the stench of mold and long since passed animals.

"Seems all things come here to die..."

Jamie muttered, spinning around to catch a view of his murky surroundings.

The sudden blast of music in the distance startled the group, causing them to scream in surprise. The lot of them spinning around, scanning the area rapidly.

"The fuck was that?!"

Ave shouted, almost swinging herself around, illuminating the area. Jamie peering down the nearest corridor, lighting the way, gestures towards the others. The group now cautiously tip-toeing towards the continous music.

Stephan now taking the lead, pushes the door open. Everyone bracing themselves for all kinds of horrors. Only to find a laptop set upon a rusty workbench, the screen flickering. The music felt familiar, nostalgic. The character on screen was the epitome of nostalgia for the group. A childhood creation of their missing friend. The character shook their finger back and forth, smiling at the viewers with confidence.

Stephan could've exploded at the mere sight of what was on screen. He raced towards the laptop, kneeling until he was eye level with it.

"Holy shit....! Guys! It's Dessie's game!"

The others looked at each other in confusion, seating themselves next to Stephan.

"Remember?! They had this character? They always wanted them to be in an official game until they decided, "fuck it", and started making their own Sonic game! It....was that passion project they always talked about!"

The joy in his eyes began to pool into tears, running down his face, pulling his mounds of black eyeliner down with each tear.

Ave slowly turned away, her face shaded with guilt. Mikey sat closer next to Stephan, peering over his shoulder.

"So uh....Can we play this?"

Stephan started fumbling with the keys until the pinging noise of the game beginning finally sounded off upon the right key being hit. Thrown into a classic level right away, the boys sat up in curiosity. Stephan biting down on his lip to hide his giddy smile.

"I've seen some of this over the years, just the starting levels and shit! Desmond was always so goddamn keen on keeping it spoiler-free for us!"

Ave turned back around to face the screen.

"Yeah....No spoilers. I remember.."

Mikey excitedly pointing at the screen while peering over Stephan's shoulder. No matter how many times he swatted Mikey's hands away from his face, the both of them were fueled with a childish sort of excitement.

"Woah it's all stylized and shit?! And the characters are all different, THIS is what Desmond has been gassing up since we were kids?!"

Stephan chuckled, shaking his head.

"How do you not remember? We used to draw this crew, and play out how everything would be if it was a real game..."

Mikey's eyes lighting up as he inched closer.

"Now it fucking is.....!"

Jamie rested his head on Stephan's shoulder, taking in his lost friend's creation. Each intricate animation and detail, seeing their art again made his chest feel heavy. Cold.

"Look at how cool they made Amy, she's got cool shit with her hammer too, watch!"

Stephan demonstrating how the character functioned in-game. Clacking the keys of the laptop as the character on screen took a running jump, swinging her hammer upwards. Coming down with small shockwaves beneath her hammer.

"Ayyyy, do that shit again!"

Mikey shouted as he bounced up and down repeatedly. Ave sighing at the sight of the boy's joy. Stephan looking so peaceful, reminded of what his loved one has created. Jamie looking concerned, concentrating with deep thought. Suddenly Jamie sat back up, away from Stephan.

"Isn't this odd....?"

Everyone staring at him.

"Like...Where's Desmond? Why was this, only this left here?"

Stephan only halfway concentrating on the game now, beginning to feel worry and fear grow inside of him. Despite that, he wanted to stay hopeful, the game itself was clear hope that his partner was still alive and safe.

Unknowingly, he still was pressing the input to direct the character on screen, making her jump and slam back onto the ground with her hammer. Just before she hit the ground again, the game froze, emitting a loud whirring noise. An ear-piercing tone.

Then it all went black.

Everything.

[heapster-45]

Word Find

Thanks to @bumblerhizal-art for tagging me in their word find post. The words I was tagged for are Time, Breath, Long, and Keep. All of these excerpts are from my Harry Potter Fanfiction, We Must Be Killers.

Time: From We Must Be Killers - Harry Potter

Later, when it was time to practice, Pleasant trailed around the room, watching over the students as they attempted the spell. She spent a moment with each student, correcting pronunciation and helping them envision their desks as pigs via the formula on the blackboard. Pleasant remembered how ridiculous this spell seemed to her, with no practical application, but now she understood the importance of connecting the dots between these two unlike things. 

A trio of students were whispering in the back corner as she came around. She could hear one of them say “... fought You-Know-Who…” as she inched closer.

“How’s it going back here? Having trouble with your transfiguration?” Pleasant leaned down to keep quiet. It was clear they were not attempting the spell. 

“I was just telling them that I saw you in the Prophet over the summer. That you helped Harry Potter fight You-Know-Who at the Ministry,” a dark-skinned boy said in hushed tones.

“Is that true?” the girl beside him asked. Pleasant wasn’t sure how much to say. Their expectant eyes softened her resolve to ignore their questions. She sighed.

“Yeah, I was there.” The trio gave each other excited looks.

Breath: From WMBK - Harry Potter

“First question?” Pleasant asked. Bellatrix faced her; eyes dilated. She was not playing games anymore.

“Godric Gryffindor’s sword has been in my possession. How did you get it?”

“Magic.”

“Pleasant,” Gaynore said. “It’s no time to be cheeky.”

“I think she needs some persuasion,” Bellatrix continued. She cast a curse. Pleasant felt her lungs constricting; she gasped in an attempt to draw in air. “You stole it from my vault at Gringotts!” The curse did not end. Pleasant’s vision began to blur, her head began to scream for oxygen. “What else did you take?!”

“Mother.”

Air rushed back into Pleasant’s lungs. Tears stung her eyes as she gasped for breath.

Long: From WMBK - Harry Potter

Pleasant sat in the back of her uncle’s car. Though her face was stoic, she gripped the strap of the backpack in her lap so strongly her tanned knuckles were white. The swelling in her cheek had yet to go down, but she was grateful for no longer tasting blood. Neither Pleasant nor he had eaten lunch yet, and Mr. Granger was trying to hide how angry he was. 

“You’re lucky I had an open afternoon, Pleasant. My patients wait three months for an appointment with me.”

She didn’t respond, trying not to acknowledge that she was the reason he had to take off work. 

“Alice and I will be having a serious talk with you before dinner,” he continued. He was holding back from raising his voice, but the fervor of his tone gave him away. 

Pleasant watched a playground full of small children screeching with laughter as they drove by. The rest of the area was residential.

“They are threatening to expel you, Pleasant. Do you understand the gravity of what you’ve done?” 

She saw his brown eyes look at her grimly in the rear view mirror with her peripheral vision.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I dunno what’ll happen if I do,” she replied. 

Keep: From WMBK - Harry Potter

“So… maybe Gaynore being a painter is innocuous, or maybe it’s a ploy. Could be diplomacy work,” Pleasant continued.

“And it wouldn’t be the first time,” Hermione said.

“But what about Erasmus?” Harry asked.

“I’m not entirely sure what his specialty is, but we do know that he’s ruthless. Unrelenting,” Pleasant said.

“He’s the most dangerous person in this school,” Harry agreed. “We should definitely be keeping an eye on him. But I’m still wary of Draco. And Snape.”

At the mention of his name, Pleasant looked over to the staff table, but the slimy bastard was nowhere to be found. Another cursory glance proved that Dumbledore was also gone.

“Pleasant?” Hermione asked, snapping her back to attention.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think the Apprentices could be planning?”

Pleasant wasn’t sure if it was worth alarming the others with what she really thought. Their mission could range from kidnappings and interrogations all the way to a solidified takeover of the school or the ministry. From what she’d heard during her time at the manor, the Death Eaters had detailed plans at least ten years ago, something she didn’t quite grasp at the time. From what she could recall at that moment, it seemed like a full plan of action to take over the European wizarding world within fifteen years. And they’d already had a whole year of unfettered activity.

Pleasant took the middle ground, making an educated guess in light of what Draco had revealed to her a mere hour ago. “I don’t want to scare anyone, but I think it’s very likely they might be gearing up for assassination.”

#wmbk #harry potter #tagged #@bumblerhizal-art #writing #wip

[halftheway]

hi and today i’ll be sharing some of my bonus tracks with the class. today’s contribution: wilbur being a sappy mf and taking care of quackity when he won’t take care of himself🥰 (and if you feel so moved this is also on ao3<3)

“Quackity,” Wilbur says, and Quackity just grunts in reply. He’s trying to review Foolish’s budget, which in his opinion, Foolish doesn’t even need, and Wilbur won’t leave him alone.

“My darling,” he croons, draping himself over the back of Quackity’s chair. “You look stressed.”

“I am stressed, Wilbur, thank you so much for noticing,” he snaps. He shrugs Wilbur's hands from his shoulders, irritated. Honestly, the documents on his desk haven’t held his attention since Wilbur came into the room, and he  has  to get this budget done or Foolish won’t build and then—

“You get cranky when you're overworked,” Wilbur says. He puts his hands over Quackity's and pins them to the desk. “I'd offer to do it for you, but I know you… prefer handling everything yourself.”

I know you won't let me touch Las Nevadas goes unspoken. Damn fucking right. This is  his  country, and he’s spent too long watching other people running things. It’s his turn.

Speaking of other people. His good eye gives a few twitches at the pressure on his wrists. It’s familiar, and not in a good way.

“Let go of me, Wilbur,” he says slowly, and apparently his tone was enough for Wilbur to take him seriously, because he removes his hands like Quackity’s skin burns. Quackity takes in a measured breath and lets it go.

“I’m sorry, Q. Won’t do it again.” And Quackity knows he won’t. “But things slip through the cracks, when you're not at your best. Come take a break, let me take care of you for a bit?”

He hates that he also knows Wilbur will accept no as an answer, that he'll fuck off and won't be mad if Quackity says the word. He hates even more that he doesn't even want to.

“Take care of me, how, exactly?” He keeps his voice level, a little sarcastic. The phrase is just too vague for him to accept the offer upfront, no matter how tempted he is.

“Start with getting some food into you, I think,” he muses. Wilbur slowly spins Quackity’s chair around so they’re face to face; the bastard is still tall, even kneeling. “When was the last time you ate, love?”

“I had breakfast with Charlie before he left,” Quackity mumbles. That fucking look is on his face again, the one that makes him feel all melty inside. He fixes his eyes on Wilbur’s wings instead, how the primaries rest delicately on the carpet.

Wilbur nods. “Definitely food first.”

“And then?” he asks warily.

“I dunno. Maybe a bath, or a nice shower?”

It sounds nice. It sounds really fucking nice.

“Fine.”

He lets Wilbur take him to the restaurant— he’s gotta name that thing— and coax him into eating, though he draws the line at being hand-fed. He has a little fucking dignity.

Not enough, apparently. Wilbur scoops him up as soon as he’s done eating and refuses to put him down until they’re in his bathroom.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” he says, leaning down to peck the tip of his nose.

Quackity blinks. It hadn’t occurred to him that Wilbur might leave until he was literally walking out the bathroom door.

“Wait,” he says, because his brain and mouth have a serious lag going on, and Wilbur pauses and turns.

“Do you, um. Did you want to—”  Gods, this is coming out so awkwardly, but at least it’s coming out at all— “maybe, maybe join me?”

Instantly, Wilbur’s wings puff. His body betrays his every emotion, and Quackity watches his face light up as he steps closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just— Just for a shower, though,” he clarifies. He’s not sure he could take anything more.

He beams. “Can I wash your hair?”

He feels naked, which is stupid, because he  is naked. But he feels it in a grosser, more vulnerable sense. He doesn't give a shit about being physically naked in front of people anymore, because god knows he's run around with his dick out enough times that nudity doesn't faze him. The way Wilbur makes him wait outside the shower until he's got the water exactly how Quackity likes it, though, the way he tips Quackity's chin up so he can kiss him under the spray, all of it, it's so much. Wilbur directs him fully under the water, starts combing his fingers through Quackity's hair while he hums a song Quackity doesn’t recognize.

"Something new?" he asks, and Wilbur just smiles.

"You'll be the first to know, darling," he answers, leaning past Quackity to grab the shampoo. He works it into Quackity's hair gently, and Quackity tries not to lean into it.

"Rinse," he murmurs, and Quackity follows his command.

Wilbur fucking shields his eyes as he rinses, and Quackity? Quackity feels a little like he's going to explode or cave in or something. He's missed this so much, missed being treated like something worth taking care of. Well, not something. Someone.  (He's been treated like an object, before. That, he doesn't miss.) And he'd missed Wilbur too, can't help but lean back into him as he wraps his arms around Quackity's waist and tucks his head against his neck.

It was never like this before; his memories of back then are fuzzed over, the good and the bad, but he knows neither of them let themselves be this tender. He likes it.

Naturally Wilbur ruins the moment by sinking his teeth into Quackity's shoulder.

It hurts, and he yelps, "What the fuck?"

He doesn't even have the decency to look  sorry,  the asshole, so Quackity smacks his chest (gently, gently) and gets out of the shower, huffy.

"Quackity," Wilbur whines through the shower door, and Quackity shakes his head.

"No, you're not getting me back in there, motherfucker, you bit me," he accuses. "You can wash your own damn hair."

He's already wrapped himself in a towel, draped it around his shoulders like a blanket.

“Quackityyy,” he tries again, and Quackity's resolve is already wavering. He's still all wet and cold and god dammit, he's letting the towel fall to the floor as he gets back in, and his dickbag of a… Boyfriend? Partner? He doesn't fucking know.

His Wilbur is standing there with his stupid arms already open and Quackity's already stepping into them.

"Why did you bite me, asshole," he complains into Wilbur's neck. It's not really a question, but Wilbur answers anyway.

"I love you?"

Which is a bullshit reason to bite someone, in Quackity's opinion. But he's used to all Wilbur's weird rhymes and reasons, so he just sighs. "Don't do it as hard, next time. Shit hurt."

"It hurts?" he repeats, and doesn't even give Quackity a chance to answer before he's pressing a kiss over the mark.

"Hurt," he corrects, but he can't muster enough sternness in his tone, not with Wilbur now mouthing over his neck, "past tense."

Wilbur hums in assent. "I'll be gentler, darling."

#dsmp #las nevadas polycule #tntduo fic #dsmp fic #dream smp fic

[djcarnationsblog]

Btw 💞 for the game?

1.Who's your comfort character?

I LOVE THEM TO DEATH, I MIGHT GIVE A SLIGHT EXPLANATION FOR THEM-

BSD

Chuuya: Look, I dunno whether I'm stretching it when I say I feel a sort of kinship to this idiot. Like, he cusses a lot, a big tendency to do that, same here. He's also got pretty bad anger issues, it's hard for him to truly contain that anger, so do I! And-and even his bluntness, I can relate to sometimes. (Which is why I dislike talking to kids. I struggle with that a lot-)

Listing why I find so much comfort in him now, just makes me realize how much I relate to him with a lot of things, makes me feel happy XP

Atsushi: he's bean. So precious, a character I can fall back on if I feel like thinking of very fluffy heart-to-hearts!

IBVS

Edward: Kai gave us the perfect person to delve into the psyche of, I took advantage of that. And then it just developed into...whatever this is XD. He's a comfort character that I love to use for character study, especially with people of his personality. He's someone I can use for different scenarios, and he's very pleasant to draw on the occasions I do draw him.

Isaac: Honestly, I like him for similar reasons I like the next comfort character. He's sarcastic, and very apathetic at times, cynical like Kai described. I like those parts about him, because in the end he's still a complex character, he's not someone you'd expect from generic tropes, and there IS more to him than just that, despite those parts of his personality being my favorite. I just love all the snarkiness for the little bastard!

Metal Family

Dee: Hah. Almost the exact same reasons. I love his attitude, his intelligence, and he's very nice to play around concepts with. I don't have much to say since it's the same reasons for Isaac, which is probably what got me hooked on him in the first place XD

#DJC Rambles #oof that's a lot #I've got more from other fandoms #but since these are the only ones I've mentioned #y'know #I can tell you about the other ones if you're curious- #Writers Ask

[firelightfables-arc]

from here! / @curaetive

Chas stared at her for a long moment, trying to decide if this was an ex, a one timer, or...what. She looked a bit young, but the last time he’d assumed that hadn’t gone well. Then again, the last time he’d assumed anything he distinctly remembered a beer upended over his head.

Still.

He reached into his back pocket, drawing out his wallet with a deep sigh. “How much does the bastard owe ya?” Already flicking the pocket open and wincing at the fact that Renee was very likely to get on his case at showing up light - again. “Dunno where he’s buggered off to. He’s a busy man. I wouldn’t wait around for him, if I were you.”

#curaetive #( visage : chas chandler ) #( I'm so sorry for him he's just trying to protect john! )

[hollowfaith]

Draw dunno maybe less French tho (for klaus obviously)

actions speak louder than words

draw, sender draws receiver like one of their french girls.

"What are you doing?"

Eiden jumps at the noise, nearly digging a hole into his sketchbook with the pencil at the sudden voice behind him. Seconds later, he processes who it belongs to and panics even more, scrambling to hide his page—too late.

An elegant gloved hand with no sense of personal space comes into his field of vision and flattens the sketchbook against its resting place on Eiden's thighs.

"A drawing? Why does this person look so familiar?"

Aurelius is close enough for Eiden to hear his heartbeat—or maybe it's his own, pounding loudly in his chest. "C'mon," he tries, "I'm a decent enough artist for you to know who this is."

"Even so, I don't see what business you have drawing him for yourself."

Uh-oh. There's the faintest of petulant tones in Aurelius' voice, even if his voice still sounds indifferent. And Eiden can't decide whether it's a good thing that he can read the guy's mood without even looking at him now or if his life just majorly, majorly sucks with this bag of intestines constantly giving him indigestion.

To be honest, he'd only been sketching outfit ideas for fun. He made Klaus his model on a whim because 1) the guy was tall with crazy proportions and 2) last time he'd bribed Aurelius into a police officer costume which had been amazing until it wasn't, and he wanted compensation.

Also, Klaus looked really good in a suit, okay?

"...who says it's for me?" Eiden scoffs a moment later. "You like it? You can have it."

And before his royal bastardness can complain, he's already tearing out the page and offering it up. "Here."

Aurelius accepts it with the faintest hint of a sparkle in his eye that Eiden doesn't miss. The next second his gaze turns glowering again and Eiden wonders what's the matter until he follows the angel's line of vision back to his sketchbook.

Specifically, to the next page now revealed beneath the Klaus drawing, where he sketched a generous collection of explicit—

"It's not what it looks like!" Eiden shouts in a panic, but once again, he's too late.

"How dare you place Klaus on top of such filth."

"Hey, don't get violent—wait wait, what are you doing with that chair?! A-Aurelius?!"

He barely makes it out of the cafe and into a taxi with his sketchbook (and spine) intact.

#kleinstar #𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔯𝔶 ࿐ answered #𝔉𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰 ࿐ drabbles