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#yes it's me i'm bitches
tetitous · 2 years
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To all the people who discovered Pandora Hearts by mistyping Kingdom Hearts on the search bar years ago.
I feel you.
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sergle · 6 months
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youtube has SO much nerve doing their little "don't use an adblocker pleaseeee we want your money so bad you're so mean :(" you LITERALLY let people get doxxed on your website and this is the torch you're burning
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everchased · 4 months
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cleave is such a sexy weapon action and larian is so sexy for putting it in their game when 5e ROBBED us of it as a feat and tried to act like great weapon master was a good replacement
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bluefirewrites · 4 months
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I'm sorry but how they were laughing and goofing and smiling then percy immediately collapsing into annabeth's arms because of the poison has got me squealing like YES
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dafry · 22 days
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I have no idea wth is happening but i want in-
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Randy: Uh... Is he okay...?
Jake: Yeah don't worry, he'll be fine... I think...
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chibinightowl · 3 months
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Today has been a day. Just a lot of hospital stress this week between my mom and my husband's surgeries and this is how it's coming out (they're both fine and are recovering well).
~~~
Dick finds Tim in a waiting room at Gotham General, slumped in a faded blue plastic chair that's seen better days. At some point during the day, his brother had been immaculately dressed for the office. But now, his blue pin-striped suit is wrinkled, his collar is unbuttoned, and his shirtsleeves have been rolled up. There was a tie somewhere as Dick knows Tim never leaves home without one on an office day, but it's anyone's guess as to where it currently is.
"Hey. I got here as fast as I could," he says, taking the open seat beside Tim. He did too, calling Wally as soon as he got the news from Barbara. "How's Jason?"
Tim opens his eyes, giving him a look that is more dead than alive. "Still critical."
Pain lances through Dick at the two words. He'd lost Jason once before and the guilt from being off world when his Little Wing needed him the most still ate at him in the darkest parts of his psyche. And now, here he is sitting with another brother he never thought he'd have, one who's been through so much trauma and loss of his own--and who is on the verge of possibly losing another loved one.
A car-pedestrian accident. The gall of something so normal and mundane having the potential to take out the Red Hood--or any of them for that matter--is enough to make Dick want to punch the taupe wall of this dreary waiting room.
To be honest, he's rather surprised none of the others are here yet. Well, expect Bruce. He's off world with the JL and...
Oh.
Oh.
"Do you think Bruce knows yet?"
Tim's shrug is so minute Dick might have missed it if he wasn't watching closely. "Can't say I care right now. He and Jay got into another of their big fights before he left. Said if Jay can't clean up his act, then don't bother coming back."
Dick winces and easily reads between the lines of what Tim isn't saying given their semi-public place. Even in Bludhaven, he'd heard about the execution-style murder of a known pedophile--and that it was the Red Hood who'd done it.
"He didn't do it, Dick," Tim whispers, catching his gaze as tears build in his eyes. "I was there. I know he didn't. But Bruce didn't listen to either of us, said I was covering for him because he's in my pants." Those last words are practically spat out. "I think this is the first time I've ever felt like I hate him. He just doesn't listen!"
That's a feeling Dick knows all too well. He also knows now why the others aren't here--that Barbara called him first because Tim doesn't need just comfort.
He needs his big brother.
Dick slides from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of Tim. "Now that is something I know a lot about." He takes Tim's hands and squeezes them firmly. "I'm not going to tell you it'll get better. I'm also not going to say you need to be the bigger person and forgive him. What I am going to tell you is that I believe you and that I believe in Jason."
Tim's breath hitches and he falls into Dick's open arms sobbing. Thank yous fall from his lips and into Dick's jacket. Tears fill his own eyes as he remembers another time where he didn't believe this little bird, his first Robin.
Time hasn't necessarily dulled the guilt, but it has given him perspective. He'd done what he thought best at the time and owned up to it when he'd been proven wrong--a trait not shared by their mentor and father-figure.
"We'll get through this together," Dick soothes, running a hand up and down Tim's back. "You, me, and everyone else. We're all here for you and we're all pulling for Jason."
As he speaks, he glances up and spots Alfred hurrying down the hall with Damian and Duke in tow. Both boys are still dressed in their school uniforms, so Alfred must have pulled them out early. Behind them are Cass and Steph, hands held tightly.
"We're all here," he repeats, nudging Tim's chin to make him look up. "And we're not going anywhere."
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chronurgy · 2 months
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Ugh the thing with Gortash selling Karlach to the devils is.... Why isn't everyone doing it? Why isn't everyone selling people that they don't like to the devils? Why isn't Bob selling his neighbor who plays loud lute music at 2 am, why aren't politicians constantly selling their enemies, why hasn't Susan sold Janice to the devils for book club crimes? Generally most universes will say that you can only sell your own soul to devils. But if you CAN sell random people to the devils why aren't more people doing it?
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lady-charinette · 6 months
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Rei is the emotionally malnourished, materially wealthy adult who hangs on to life by a frayed thread and Kazuki is the emotionally explosive, mentally ill adult who will shove more color into Rei's life by force bc Kazuki has experienced a life full of grey and black and white and he cannot bear to see his friend fall into that suffocating pit.
They weren't supposed to work so well together, they weren't supposed to live so well together, but they do. They're more than roommates, more than friends, they're family and they stopped wanting to die for their family and rather want to LIVE for it.
Miri is the sunshine child surrounded by shades of grey and splashes of color that follow her everywhere, she's surrounded by danger but her inner world is mostly colorful, and thanks to Kazuki and Rei, her surroundings get brighter too.
Their surroundings get brighter, more colorful. There are still grey and black and white splotches here and there, but they're together and they tackle them together.
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transmechanicus · 10 days
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Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.
#my stuff#i feel soooo bad talking to my therapist about the same topics over multiple weeks#like i feel like they're sooo sick of it like damn can this bitch get Over It alreadyyyy#hi yes actually can we talk about the near catastrophic sense of betrayal and loss that has haunted my soul for over a month?#can we talk about how I overcompensate for other's possible feelings and emotions to desperately mask my terror at feeling out of control#can we talk about how even when I know ppl acted with logical reasons necessary for their situation it still hurt me?#and that this pain fills me up with so much anger and frustration that I'm powerless to put anywhere that won't hurt someone#so it just cooks me inside and makes me grind my teeth constantly for weeks#im so angry i did not deserve to be treated like this it's not fair and I have no capacity to fix it or control when it feels better#i just have to survive and wait until i forget about it and hope they don't decide to reach out and fuck it all up#cause i can see that happening#i'll finally be free of thinking about them and generally going about my day unbothered and they'll ask to get coffee or something#and I have no idea what I should do in that scenario. because I don't think we can be friends.#and you have not treated me with the compassion and warmth I treated you#i would want to say mean things. hurtful things. I would want to bite back for once.#and that's not me. that's not who I want to be.#i don't wanna see you. go away. don't talk to me if you're not going to make the pain go away.
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genericpuff · 12 days
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oh yeah speaking of anime
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i bought a sword
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spaceratprodigy · 17 days
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💋🔪 Poppy and KJ 🔪💋
@ghoulghostly — [ palette prompts ]
they're the baddest bitches in nuka-world and they are making out!!
Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links
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beanghostprincess · 2 months
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The other day I had this huge breakdown about not eating/throwing away food saying "Sanji would hate me for this" and my friend told me "No, Sanji would understand you're going through something right now and would help you because he respects people's decisions on what they eat" and I think that has changed my life forever
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katierosefun · 11 months
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not to be like “ugh aos crew” again but ugh aos crew again spock really got accepted into the most prestigious university on vulcan and was like “haha fuck you <3″ bc they insulted the fact that he’s mixed-race jim banged his forehead in the shuttle within the first 30 seconds he was on board leonard was hiding in the bathroom of said shuttle because he hates flying sulu couldn’t get the ship to warp for the first 3 minutes of his first-ever flight on the enterprise uhura is mostly okay still except she’s also got a thing going with her former professor so maybe that raises some eyebrows (ha) scotty is literally in a butt-fuck middle of nowhere outpost on a death ice planet chekov is. seventeen. i don’t really have much more to add to that except guys your ensign is seventeen years old
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eliasmendoza · 11 months
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I know that somewhere deep inside Ominis' mind, he was hoping Sebastian didn't see him hiding among the trees in the Forbidden Forest.
aka. wherein Sebastian angers a troll he can't defeat by himself and panics and Ominis is just done with Sebastian's shit
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Shitpost inspired by this iconic cultural reset in cinematic history.
youtube
Artist's note: I don't know if anyone's done this already here in the HPHL fandom but I just had to do it anyway lol
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leupagus · 20 days
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BRB giving all the Lannisters a way more satisfying story arc than the one the show foisted on them
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The wedding celebrations for Trystane's brother Quentyn and his new bride Desmera Redwyne lasted for nearly a fortnight, with dancing and feasting and even fireworks set off over the bay at the Water Gardens. Every noble in Dorne (and half the nobles of the Reach) had come; even Prince Doran had attended, and it seemed to do him good. His pain-lined face had been wreathed in smiles and he had sat at the head of the table at nearly every meal, coming out from his seclusion for the first time in ages.
Trystane noticed, too. "I don't think I have ever seen Papa so happy," he whispered, leaning toward her during the feast on the last night.
"It's because he has got rid of one troublesome son," she teased him, tapping her finger on his nose. It was true enough: tomorrow, Quentyn and Desmera would travel back to the Arbor where they would take up their duties as heirs to Paxter Redwyne.
Trystane scrunched his nose and moved closer to her on the bench, sliding his arm around her waist. "Soon he will be got rid of another," he murmured in her ear, kissing her gently on the cheek, then the neck.
"Ah, ah, this is not your wedding yet, little brother," warned Arianne as she briskly tapped them on their shoulders, pushing them firmly aside so that she could sit between them. "Room enough for the Mother, if you please."
"You're my sister, not my mother," Trystane grumbled. "And there isn't enough room for your backside!"
"Trystane!" Myrcella protested, but Arianne had it well in hand.
"If I were Mama, I would spank you on yours," she told him, and swatted at him anyway. Trystane yelped and hit her back, and their end of the table erupted into chaos as brothers and sisters, cousins and friends all shrieked and jabbed at each other, tickling and pinching as one can only do to those one truly loves.
Arianne and Myrcella had been thick as thieves when she had first arrived at Sunspear, still dreadfully homesick and afraid. Uncle Tyrion had promised her that the people of Dorne would treat her well; but though everyone had been kind, it was only Arianne who had truly been a friend at first. She had sneaked into Myrcella's room and hid behind drapes or under the bed to jump out at her, shown her the sights of the Water Gardens and Planky Town alike, even encouraged her to speak with Trystane, who at 15 had been terribly spotty and sulky.
Then Arianne had gone to visit her mother and her family, in far-off Norvos. It had been planned for only a few months, but the time had stretched on and on, and only Quentyn's marriage had brought her back at last. Myrcella had missed her even as she had grown closer with Trystane, and part of her dreaded their marriage that would take her away from the drowsy warmth and comfort of Arianne's company, even as it would deliver her back to her family at King's Landing.
Later that night, Myrcella crept into Arianne's chambers and hid inside the great wardrobe, keeping the door half-open as it had been already. (Arianne was shockingly untidy for a princess, and refused to allow any servant in her quarters to deal with the resulting mess. She used to drag Myrcella to her rooms once a month or so and make her sit on the bed, while Arianne picked up the clothes strewn about the floor or flung over the backs of chairs and complained about her own bad habits. Already, Myrcella thought, Arianne could do with a good cleaning.) A short while later the door to the chamber opened and Myrcella readied herself to jump out, just as Arianne had done to her so often.
But Arianne was not alone.
"—Yronwoods aren't pleased by the match," someone was saying. "Lord Anders thought Quentyn would marry Gwyneth, after being fostered with them for so long."
It was Ellaria Sand. She hadn't been seen overmuch at Sunspear since returning from King's Landing two months ago, Lord Oberyn's body in tow. Since then she'd avoided the court, instead spending time with Oberyn's daughters. The few times Myrcella had seen her, Ellaria had been as warm and friendly as before, but with a knife-edge to her smile that Myrcella recognized all too well from the courtiers in the Red Keep. She'd had taken care not to be alone with Ellaria, nor with the Sand Snakes, since then.
"Then Lord Anders is a fool," said Arianne in her sing-song voice, "and should be regarded as such. Gwyneth is a lovely girl, but she is far too little for a Prince of Dorne. The Arbor is a more valuable holding and the Redwynes far more valuable allies."
"And once Trystane is married to his blonde bastard girl, you will have both your brothers safely out of Dorne," said Ellaria. There was the sound of clothing being moved about, and Ellaria sitting down. "Really, dear, you ought to have someone clean in here. There could be mice, for all you know."
Arianne laughed, as though Ellaria had only insulted her housekeeping. Myrcella's hands clenched into fists. Was this what Arianne truly thought of her? And in Dorne, of all places! Where Ellaria herself, and all her lover's daughters, carried the last name of Sand! Ellaria had made much of the Dornish saying that bastard children were born of love and passion, and thus as trueborn as any child conceived by wedded parents. But clearly she held Myrcella in as much contempt as any of the rest of them would back home, if they knew the truth.
They never knew King Robert, the man who'd never once looked at her or her brothers but with resentment and bitterness. None of her mother's children had been loved, not by that oafish lumbering stag who saw them all as shackles that tied him to the Lannisters he hated so much. What shame was there in knowing her true parents, at least, loved each other? And loved their children, even if only one could dare show it? Myrcella wanted to burst out of the wardrobe and declare that she would gladly call herself Myrcella Waters — Myrcella Lannister — and dare anyone to judge her for it. 
But she huddled further into herself and listened, to hear what else Arianne might say.
"I've stayed away too long," is what she said, "if you're this comfortable calling poor Myrcella such names. She's done nothing to you—"
The scrape of a chair signaled that Ellaria had risen once again. "Her family murdered your uncle, who you seemed once to love—"
"—and yet I have been informed of a certain present you sent to Queen Cersei just a few days ago," Arianne overrode her. "A snake, with Myrcella's pendant in its mouth. Hardly subtle, my dear."
Ellaria did not answer, and Myrcella put her hand to her mouth to keep her own silence. Her pendant had gone missing during the wedding celebrations, she had thought a victim of one of the more energetic dances on that first night. But Ellaria had got hold of it somehow? And sent it to Mother as a...threat, it seemed. Or a warning.
"What do you want, Ellaria?" asked Arianne with more gentleness than Myrcella felt capable of. "The Lannisters have already suffered, even if not by our hand: their patriarch dead, their firstborn dead, their brother Tyrion probably dead and certainly dead to them. Even Casterly Rock itself is in dire straits, from what I've heard. You've spoken to my father a great deal of vengeance — but where will it end? Will it be satisfied with Myrcella's death? Or do you need every child of theirs to die, before killing Cersei and Jaime?"
"I—" Ellaria's voice was thick, and there was a long moment of quiet before she spoke again. "I do not know," she said at last, as if confessing.
"Well, I do know," said Arianne briskly, "and I will tell you, if you will listen."
"...I will," said Ellaria slowly. Myrcella hardly dared breathe.
"Good. I did not linger in Norvos for nothing, much as I love Mama. Do you remember Illyrio Mopatis, the magister from Pentos? We met him years ago, when I was a girl and you and Oberyn took me with you to Essos. You were pregnant with Dorea, I think, and Obella and Tyene followed you everywhere with pillows for your chairs. Illyrio then got you a litter and had you carried everywhere."
"Gods, yes," Ellaria said, chuckling. "And he had one to match!"
"Uncle Oberyn kept crowding out the litterbearer in the front so that he could carry you," Arianne said. "At any rate, I saw him — Illyrio. He came for a visit to Mama's estate, and we spoke at great length about certain plans he has been making."
Ellaria's laugh now was sour. "Ah yes, he and the Spider have been making those plans for nearly twenty years, haven't they? Put the Targaryen boy back on the throne with the assurance that this one is sane." She snorted. "They thought Rhaegar was sane, too."
"If by 'this one,' you refer to Viserys Targaryen, his sanity is a moot point," said Arianne. "He's dead. Has been for several years, apparently. But his sister Daenerys has survived. She's been making quite a nuisance of herself in Slaver's Bay. Along with her three dragons, Illyrio tells me."
"Dragons?" Ellaria scoffed. "Illyrio's always said a great number of things. That never made any of them true."
"Which is why I want you to go and find out what is true. Meet with this Daenerys Stormborn yourself. Take her measure. I could only discover so much in Norvos, with Mama's eye always on me. She doesn't approve of Papa's conciliation to the Red Keep, but stories of Targaryen princesses and their dragons aren't to her liking, either."
"Are they to your liking?" Whatever response Arianne made, it seemed to satisfy Ellaria. "Very well. I have two conditions."
"Only two?"
"First, I shall first go to Pentos first and speak directly with Illyrio. He never could lie to me, and if he is so sure Daenerys Targaryen is the true ruler of Westeros then he'll be willing to back that up with coin and supplies. Which we'll need, in abundance."
Arianne sighed. "Very well. Though if you venture so close to Norvos, Mama will insist you visit her."
Ellaria made a prevaricating sound. "Your mother always liked me best."
"She did. And does. What is your second condition?"
"Our daughters come with me. All of them."
"No," Arianne said flatly. "Aside from the fact that it will look strange to have all the Sand Snakes gone, Lorenza is barely seven years old. You would take her across the Narrow Sea to a slave city?"
"Better than leave her here, where Doran can fill her head with his witterings about peace and forgiveness," Ellaria snapped. "If she dies — if any of us die — at least we will not live like your father."
"Take Nymeria and Tyene," Arianne countered. "Obara, if you must. The rest of the Snakes are better off here. What would Sarella do in Meereen, or Astapor, or Yunkai? Those cities do not have a reputation for academic pursuits."
"She can bring her books with her. All of us go, or none. I want nothing of Oberyn left behind for someone else to take from me."
Arianne sighed. "I'll consider it. But I want you to consider, too. If this Daenerys Stormborn is what she is said to be, she will retake the Iron Throne 'with fire and blood.' Take care that it is not your blood, my dear."
They spoke for a bit longer, until the bells chimed the hour and Ellaria departed. How long until Arianne went to bed? Myrcella might stay here the whole night and then what would she do? Who could she tell? Who did she want to tell?
"You are thinking loudly enough to wake the entire palace, little lioness," said Arianne, and opened the wardrobe door all the way. Myrcella shrank back but it was no use; Arianne was looking down at her, shaking her head. "Let's talk, so that you might be a little quieter."
"Are you going to kill my brother?" she asked, not moving.
"No," Arianne said, with a certainty that Myrcella could not help but believe. "Nor will I let anyone else. We do not hurt children in Dorne." She held out her hand, and Myrcella took it.
They sat down on the bench near the window, the one that overlooked the whole of the palace and beyond that, the city of Sunspear itself. The stars here were clear and bright, even with the torches and lights from below burning merrily at this late hour.
"Tommen's in King's Landing, not Dorne," was the first thing Myrcella could think of to say. "And he's not a child anymore." Nor am I, she thought.
Arianne rolled her eyes. "So literal. I forgot this about you. You're right — he's a man grown now, and a husband soon, and already a king. But he is not to blame for the way things are now, anymore than Viserys and Daenerys were to blame for what their father and brother did during the Rebellion."
"My father always said Uncle Stannis should have killed them when he had the chance." She could remember that argument well, as it was one Robert made whenever Uncle Stannis irritated him — which was often. You had only to take them and drown them, and you couldn't even manage that! My brother the great tactician, bested by infants! 
"I very much doubt your father said any such thing," said Arianne tartly, "Though I am sure King Robert said it often enough." She tilted her head as she regarded Myrcella. "When did you first realize? About your parents?"
Myrcella hesitated, but it seemed silly to pretend ignorance now, of all times. "I've always known, I think. When the ravens came from Dragonstone, from Uncle Stannis, saying that we were bastard-born...it wasn't a surprise." Nor had she been surprised at her not-uncle's blunt declaration, cutting himself off from all claims of blood and family. Stannis had always been a hard man to love; she suspected he found it hard to love others in turn. Perhaps it had been as great a relief to him as it had been to her, to know there was nothing that bound them to each other after all.
"I am glad you know," said Arianne, "but that is one reason I wanted you to hear Ellaria's plans, as well as my own. She wants to hurt your mother and father very badly. Her rage has made her blind. My hope is that distance, as well as time, will allow her to see clearly again. But in the meanwhile it is best for everyone if you and she are far away from each other."
"But...those things you said, about Daenerys Targaryen. You want her to come here?"
Arianne sighed and took Myrcella's hands in hers. They were small and soft, dwarfed by Myrcella's long fingers. "Daenerys Stormborn is coming here. Nothing can stop that; sooner or later, she will arrive with her dragons, and she will take the Iron Throne. If your brother and your parents are to survive it, they must have somewhere to go. Someone who will take them in."
Myrcella stared at her. She couldn't mean Dorne; for one thing, Mother would never agree to live out her days here, strolling about the Water Gardens and bathing in the Summer Sea. For another, the Martells and the Targaryens had a complicated enough relationship; even Doran, even Arianne, wouldn't risk the wrath of a new queen by hosting the old king.
"Perhaps Highgarden—" but even as Myrcella said it she could see it for the farcical suggestion it was. She'd never met the Queen of Thorns, but she knew the Tyrells had sided with the Targaryens during the Rebellion; Olenna Tyrell would be only too happy to turn the Lannisters right back over to Daenerys should they put a foot wrong, even if Tommen's marriage to Margaery went through. Which left—
"Casterly Rock," she said, and felt ashamed that it had taken her so long to understand. "You want me to hold the Westerlands." It made sense: Jaime was still in the Kingsguard and likely to remain so, and Uncle Tyrion was long gone (and would be barred from inheriting anyhow, given the accusations that he had murdered Grandfather). Uncle Kevan and Lancel might have claims to it, but Tommen's last letter had mentioned Lancel's latest obsession with some odd religious sect that had gained popularity in the Crownlands. Which left...herself, of all the remaining Lannisters.
Arianne nodded. "Casterly Rock. You were raised to be the wife of a great lord. But I think you are better suited to be a great lord yourself." She lifted her eyebrows. "More importantly, little lioness, what do you think?"
All at once she wanted it more than breath: a home of her own, a castle, a people, a kingdom. A chance to be fair and kind and noble not just amongst the simpering painted faces of court, but in a place where fairness and kindness mattered. She could take Casterly Rock and make something more of it than the just golden bank of Westeros. Myrcella could feel a ravening hunger in her that she'd never imagined, that would take all of the Westerlands to sate.
Myrcella held on tightly. She could feel her fingers turning to claws, her hair a wild mane. "Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper but roaring louder in her head, in her throat, in her chest. "Yes."
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weepylucifer · 11 months
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The islet murder confession scene is SUCH a bad look for harry and kim and we should talk abt it more. it's so uncomfortable. they just snap into Cop Mode and forget how to act human. leave grandpa alone pigs
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