#Solidarity and Awe

[britneyshakespeare]

thank you so much for mentioning your popular chicken poem in the tags of my windy chicken doodle post oh my GODD that poem has been living in my head rent free for months and i have been looking everywhere trying to find it again AAAA IM SO HAPPY

its beautiful it makes me tear up whenever i think of it 🥹

omg :D i didn't think you'd even read those tags bc i know when i have a circulating post (like in the tens of thousands of notes like your chicken art) i often lose track of the activity. i'm glad you liked it!!! what a niche connection i'm able to share with you. yeah my black chicken elegy was on my poetry blog @creatediana and now whenever you need it, you can know it's there.

[astronomodome]

HELLO?????

[scribbling-dragon]

missing ranchers forever and ever and ever (a redraw of THIS from a year ago)

[click for better quality! + closeups under the cut]

[phosphorus-noodles]

happy pride month i GUESS

[solidaritygaming-fanblog]

btw do yourself a favor and never think "haha someone should make a compilation of everytime Jimmy says something self depreciating!" Because any time he says he hates himself you'll feel sick to your stomach and want to cry. Totally not speaking from experience

[flojouno]

chat my head hurts

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

You said evil Jimmy, bad boys, and only nice to Tango and my mind went crazy lol. And of course I had to make it Gt. So, what if, the bad boys run this underground black market thing where they capture and sell borrowers. But each bad boy has a borrower they keep with them. And Tango is Jimmy’s but he doesn’t know how to feel because Jimmy is genuinely nice to him and treats him like a person. But with every other borrower, Jimmy treats them the exact opposite.

They pulled into the drive-thru of the McDonald’s and Jimmy tilted his head down to glance at Tango, flicking his sunglasses up, “You want your usual, Rancher? Chicken nuggets with nether sauce?”

Tango grinned, his tail flicking “Yes, sir, Rancher buddy!”

Jimmy nodded and turned down the music as they reached the ordering screen. He ordered three Mcdouble combos, a twenty piece chicken nugget with ranch, barbeque and nether sauce.

On the way home Jimmy tapped the steering wheel along with the music and when one of Tango’s favorites came on he turned it up and they both sang along rather poorly. Tango loved these moments alone with Jimmy—it felt like an honest friendship.

And then they pulled into the driveway of the “Bad Boy Mansion”.

It was a small rancher home with two bedrooms the size of closets and the attic they diy-ed to be a third. Tango had lived in it’s walls for years, going through a few families before Jimmy, Grian, and Joel moved in. He was lucky to still be able to call the house home.

Joel’s voice pitched from the porch, just as irritated as he usually was, “What took you so long?”

“The line went around the building, ain’t nothing I could do!” Jimmy shouted back as he gathered the fast food and drinks into his arms. Then he looked down at Tango and at his full arms and sighed, “Shoot. Tango, climb up, would you?”

Tango bit the inside of his cheek to keep from whining as he climbed out of the cupholder and onto Jimmy’s lowered sleeve. From there he hoisted himself up to Jimmy’s shoulder and held onto the collar. Jimmy kicked the car door closed and headed for the house.

Tango looked towards the house to see Joel stood on the porch, eyes narrowed in their direction. “Would you stop letting him do that?”—he jabbed a finger in Tango’s direction—“Someone’s going to see him one of these days.”

“You’re just jealous because Etho would rather fling himself to the floor than ride your shoulder,” Jimmy replied, holding out the drink carrier for him to take, “Now help out, would you?”

Joel reluctantly took the drinks, if only to make sure Jimmy didn’t drop them. Inside the house they dropped the food on the kitchen table and started unpacking the bags.

Grian joined them, looking through the food, “Did you get your borrower an entire twenty piece chicken nugget?”

“No! The chicken nuggets are for all the borrowers,” Jimmy snapped. He scooped Tango off his shoulder and set him on the table.

Tango stumbled on his feet and backed up a few steps to give the humans plenty of room to unpack and set up their meals. Jimmy grabbed a single chicken nugget, cut it into chunks with a plastic knife and set it on a napkin with the opened nether sauce in front of Tango.

“We got a couple now, thought I’d get them some too,” Jimmy continued, setting the rest of the nuggets aside. “Also we ran out of bread.”

“You spoil them,” Grian teased, elbowing Jimmy.

“You spoil Tango,” Joel added, dropping down into a chair, “I mean no wonder he doesn’t try and run like ours. Jimmy’s gone and cut his food for him too, like he’s the blooming prince of fairies.”

Tango bit his tongue, knowing that if he said anything at all it would mean trouble.

“You think if I do that for Effo he’ll actually stop making escape attempts?” Joel asked.

Grian snorted, “Definitely not. Etho’s practically feral. Never seen a borrower throw themselves off a dresser until him.”

“I’m going to sell him,” Joel declared, taking a giant bite into his burger. Tango froze, not daring to look up at Joel.

“You don’t mean that,” Jimmy said.

“I do!” he replied around a full mouth, “His cool factor has worn off. Someone would pay loads for an albino borrower, I bet. I would have.”

Tango felt his heart drop into his stomach, nausea hitting him like a train. Joel wouldn’t– He couldn’t. Etho was Tango's friend. Etho was one of the last things he had connecting him to being a borrower. The next time he spoke to Etho he was going to have to beg him to start listening to Joel, as much as it killed them both, he couldn’t lose another friend.

“Well, you got a big pool to pick from right now if you want to switch him out for another,” Grian said, shrugging and picking at his own fries.

(That is, if Tango even had a chance to talk to him again at all.)

The Bad Boys finished their meals, Tango barely picking at his nugget, appetite long lost.

Jimmy was the one to gather the trash and shove it down into the trash can. He grabbed up the remaining chicken nuggets (Joel and Grian had nabbed a few themselves) and held out a hand for Tango, “Coming bud?”

Tango hesitated– he really didn’t want to, but staying in the kitchen meant Grian and Joel could get grabby. They wouldn’t hurt him, sure, but they made it abundantly clear they thought Jimmy was too soft with him. He’s been poked and prodded plenty of times between the two of them, tossed in the air more then once, and Joel once tried to hide him from Jimmy by shoving him in his own sock drawer. He didn’t want a repeat of any of that if he could manage it.

He stepped onto Jimmy’s hand and was promptly slipped into his jean-jacket pocket. He sat, grabbing a bit of pocket lint and pulling it apart bit by bit, unable to keep his hands still for the short ride.

Tango swayed and bounced as Jimmy turned out of the house, and he recognized the familiar creaking of the screen door and it slamming itself shut. His feet crunched in the unkempt backyard and Tango’s tail flicked as he heard the shed door open. He hated this fucking shed.

Jimmy’s hand reached for him, fingers wrapping around his middle. His stomach swooped as he was lifted and set down once again. Jimmy was already tearing the chicken nuggets into pieces as he steadied himself, humming a song that had gotten stuck in his head from the ride home and barely acknowledging the big fat elephant that sat in front of him.

The tank of borrowers.

It was set on a shelf, the wire top clamped down several times over. A heat lamp hung over it and one of those plastic hamster hides was pushed into a corner. It was lined with a towel that hadn’t been washed since it was set and the dirt stains from many little shoes were prominent. There were only two borrowers in sight, but Tango knew for a fact there were six in the tank. The Bad Boys’ latest haul. They got lucky catching the group crossing between backyards (and the Bad Boys weren’t above trespassing to get their hands on more borrowers. No one would notice a few mouse sized people missing).

Tango had been set down on the shelf, right next to the tank. One of the borrowers was staring at him and he gave a small wave— the stare immediately dropped into a glare and the borrower turned swiftly away from his direction. Tango’s tail tucked itself between his legs.

“Alright fellas,” Jimmy chirped, undoing the clamps and pushing the tank open with a clang. He set the box of torn up chicken inside, along with two open sauce packets, “Got some food for ya’s.”

“How long do you plan to keep us here?”

Tango’s head snapped back to the borrower. He was practically a half inch taller then Tango was, muscular and what looked to be old chemical burn scars all up his arm and over his face. Tango had seen some of the things he was carrying before Grian had tore them off his person and he had some pretty advanced borrower tech. He hasn’t heard a name from him yet and a part of him hopes he won’t.

Jimmy barely blinked at the question, already fitting the top back on, “Oh, just until we can secure a buyer, not long for some of your friends but you… Well, hard to find someone that wants pre-damaged goods.”

Tango hated the shed. Jimmy was different in here. Jimmy was cruel in here.

(Tango knew it wasn’t just the shed, as much as he wanted to pretend it was. He knew that Jimmy would and did act just the same to any borrower no matter where he was. He knew this was as much the real Jimmy as the one that sang songs and taught him how to read more than a few simple sentences and let him play with loose circuits boards. He was just always this Jimmy in the shed, and the shed had become his association with the worst of him.)

“You plan to turn us into pets?” The borrower growled. His voice was gruff, with some kind of thick accent. He wondered where he could have gotten it, or if he was somehow foreign—Most likely he grew up in a house with a bean with an accent, but it wasn’t impossible for borrowers to travel to other countries. That was dangerous, sure, but the guy looks like he’s gone through his fair share of danger.

“Uh, yeah,” Jimmy replied, a smirk creeping over his lips, “People pay a lot for a pet that can talk. Isn’t that nice? Usually something as insignificant as you would be considered a proper pest.”

“You’re not making a dime from us. We’ll get out. You don’t scare me,” The borrower said, his tail thrashing behind him.

“You’re able to escape this? Wow! Color me impressed!” Jimmy punctuated his statement by snapping the clamps back in place. Then he casually grabbed a brick off the ground and dropped it right on top of the lid. “Man, when we come back and you’ll be gone–? Just, know, I’ll be making this face–” He clapped his hands to his face, jaw dropped exaggeratedly.

“Fuck you, man! Fuck you!” The borrower shouted, kicking at the glass of the tank.

Jimmy laughed, retaliating by knocking repeatedly on the tank until one of the other borrowers, still tucked away in the hide, poked their head out to beg for him to stop. He did, grinning brightly, “Enjoy dinner! Come on, Tango.”

Tango was quick to scramble onto the hand that was offered to him, his tail wrapping around Jimmy’s pinkie.

“Ay, Tango, was it?” The borrower called. He flinched away from the angry tone but glanced back, giving the borrower his attention. The borrower was sneering, lips curled, “Fuck you too, traitor! You let this bean turn you into a pet. You’re no better than a hamster–”

Jimmy beat his fist into the glass, “Shut it! Tango is my friend. You’re not going to speak to him that way.”

He pulled Tango to his chest, cupping him close and stomping right out and back to the house. The screen door once again slammed as he pushed his way inside, not bothering to stop in the living room where Grian and Joel were watching some trash show and throwing snacks at each other.

They were up the ladder into the low ceiling attic and he dropped himself onto his bed. Tango bounced on his chest, hands grabbing at Jimmy’s shirt to ground himself.

“Sorry about that,” Jimmy sighed, his hand pressing against his back, “That guy was way out of line.”

Tango sighed, “It’s… fine, Jimmy. He was just mad.”

“More like he’s got an attitude problem,” Jimmy grumbled, and his hand shifted so his thumb was rubbing up and down Tango’s back. The action calmed them both, each taking slow breaths, “You’re not my pet, Tango. You’re my Rancher buddy, always will be. Don’t let them get in your head. You’re better than that lot.”

“Right,” Tango replied, “Thanks, Rancher.”

“It’s no problem,” Jimmy chuckled. He pulled his phone out, opening up Youtube and scrolling through until he found a Minecraft video, “This look good, bud?”

Tango turned to look, laying back on Jimmy’s chest, “Yeah. I like this guy.”

Jimmy pressed play, and Tango tried to push his thoughts to the back of his mind.

Don’t think about the shed. Don’t think about the borrowers. Focus on the video. Focus on the sound of the non-copyright music and Jimmy’s breath. Focus on the rising and lowering chest under him. Focus on this moment, and try to forget about the rest of it.

Tango wasn’t very good at controlling his thoughts. The video played and Tango’s head was elsewhere.

[saym0-0]

//kings tide chap 18 spoilers ;-;

so. sometimes you just gotta do some weird perspective aquarium stuff because fanfiction made you emotional. anyways heres @watcheraurora’s kings tide ranchers but horrible and angsty but kinda cool because aquariums are cool

[saturngreen11]

has anyone done this

(from joel's new guess the build video)

[arghthisdoesntwork]

Hey y'all, just thought I'd drop in and tell everyone who hasn't noticed that a bunch of streamers (Lifesteal, Misadventures, etc.) have been cancelling streams due to illness. Now Doc and Jimmy both tested positive for Covid.

[meet-me-in-the-pouringrain]

Paget Brewster (an actress who has been in the business since the early 90s) just tweeted out that she was paid $990 for Criminal Minds Evolution that was broadcasted across SEVENTY countries what the fuck?? FUCK HOLLYWOOD AND TV EXECS!!

Support The WGA, Support SAG- AFTRA. Actors and Writers are humans too.

Edit : Right everyone I read this wrong coz i’m a bit of a dumbass. @storiesofsvu and @blackbird-brewster both commented and corrected it! Pls read the comments and reblogs of this before taking my word for it, she didn’t get paid $990 for CME. It was *residuals* over the entire series.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

if my abusive ex had just murdered me and instead of apologizing he gave me a poppy and said i was doomed to forever be the person that he tried to make me i would also punch him. jimmy solidarity had the right idea

edit: dear kind viewer youre not the first person to tell me not to maintag this. this note has already been taken into account. thank you

[grimalkinmessor]

I love the Light Grows Up In Wammy's House premises but I also think I love it in a very different way than most people do

Like I don't see it as a Childhood Friends/Rivals™ trope for Lawlight, I very much see it as Light growing up being told that there's someone better than him, someone he must not only surpass, but become—and I think he does the opposite of what BB does. He starts to hate L not because of anything L actually did (because they wouldn't have met) but because everyone keeps implying that L is better than him when Light KNOWS that he's the superior one. Beyond finds out that L is addicted to sweets and immediately changes his diet to include cakes and candies, while Light immediately wipes everything sweet from his mental list of desired foods.

He is perfectly polite, he's the baby of the group, and he can do no wrong in every other aspect of life except for the fact that he vehemently doesn't want to take L's place no matter how hard they push him. He wants to become his own sort of detective on his own merit, and he'll be damned if he has to use L's name while he does it. If he solves any cases it's anonymously, under a pseudonym.

And if he ever meets L, they won't be friends. But that vaguely disconcerting teen/man that sometimes sits in the corners of rooms and talks to no one is very interested in what Light has to say, no matter what it is, and seems to both enjoy it when Light talks shit about L and yet is still somehow annoyed by it. They get into heated arguments and he'll steal Light's things and pull his hair and mess up his clothes no matter how many times the caretakers chastise him for it (though even that happens surprisingly rarely). Light would stop talking to him entirely if he wasn't his only hope of getting out of Wammy's little genius factory both physically and mentally intact.

Light makes plans to run away and runs them by the broody teenager he's tolerated, who helps him pick out any holes in his plans, but somehow the staff always seem to catch Light before he can escape. It happens so often that Light even begins to think that someone's snitching on him, but he's only ever told one other person, and he wouldn't care enough to stop Light from leaving....

Would he?

Or, alternatively, Light never meets that stranger in the corner. Instead, Watari happily sternly informs him that L has personally selected Light to help him on cases. Isn't that great? Isn't it an honor? A and B are practically roiling with jealousy, Light should be grateful.

But Light is not grateful. He takes the news with a big ole fake smile, and silently plots L's mysterious disappearance before he's even come face to face with the man. He wants to make it on his own, he doesn't want to be reliant on L's name and Wammy's money and generosity forever, and he loathes the fact that he's been metaphorically chained to L's title in all the ways he didn't want to be.

A tiny Light, accompanying a teenage L places and becoming his face (both because L is petty and because he thinks its funny when police are introduced to a little kid as their Consulting Detective) around the world, all while they throw vicious barbs back and forth and spend quiet Christmases together and throw each other under the bus for fuckups and try foreign cuisines together and struggle to keep (L)/gain (Light) the power and ground they both don't even actually want.

L gives Light all the cases he doesn't want, like he's doing him a favor, and Light regularly calls A and B to smack talk L behind his back and turn the rest of his successors against him.

I can even imagine some amalgamation of both of these scenarios happening, or even eight more vaguely like them in the vein of L and Light being both completely antagonistic towards each other while also simultaneously growing so codependent that they can't stand not knowing what the other one is doing at any point in the day and also get absurdly jealous whenever anyone else even speaks to them.

Or EVEN a scenario where L doesn't pay attention to Light at all until he's grown and out in the world on his own. Light makes a quick name for himself, decidedly divorced from Wammy's influence, and eventually meets L on accident through a case L is working on, wherein L becomes intrigued with him and looks into his history only to find that he's a Wammy kid and L goes "Oh. You're one of mine."

To which Light takes decidedly poorly given that the claim both riles and razes Things™ in him because growing up with the vaguest desires to be like the man in front of you even though you loathe him and those desires were quickly squashed and never thought of willingly or voiced aloud leaves behind both the intense need to alienate yourself from said man entirely and to get close enough to become better than him for all to see and witness—only for Light to find that he can't alienate himself completely from L anymore because L decidedly won't let him and he can never quite seem to surpass him either because L is constantly nipping at his heels, echoing his thoughts with brilliant deductions of his own, and it turns out that trying to intellectually sprint past someone who only starts running when YOU do and has a distinct headstart is harder than it looks.

[discordiansamba]

local man takes his adopted son and his half-demon twin brother to the beach, more at 11

"Blegh! Salty!" Shiro cackled, glancing over towards Rin. He was wiping his mouth, a look of pure disgust on his face. Yeah. Couldn't say he was surprised that he'd tried to drink the water. "You're not supposed to drink it, brat!" Shiro called out to him. "I'm going to rent a beach umbrella. Don't you dare move from that spot, got it? I'll order you if I have to!" Rin stuck out his tongue- but at least he was still there when he got back. He was crouched in the tide, making mounds of sand and snickering to himself every time they got washed away. Shiro huffed in amusement, taking a bit longer to find Yukio. He'd found a nice spot for them not far away from where Rin was playing. "Thanks, Yukio." Shiro said. "You can go play now." Yukio looked up at him. "Do I have to play with Rin-san?" "Not if you don't want to," Shiro said, planting the umbrella in the sand, "-but it would be nice. And don't forget your goggles!" Yukio heaved a relieved sigh, digging his goggles out from the beach bag. He carefully put his glasses away in the case Nagatomo had also packed- the man thought of everything- and pulled out a plastic baggie. Going shell collecting, he guessed. "Have fun!" Shiro said. "Don't stray too far!" "Mister!" Rin called over to him. "What's this?" "Hm? What's-" Shiro turned to look at what Rin was holding, and instantly snapped his mouth shut. Held in a tight grip within the kid's hand was a jellyfish. "Rin," he said slowly, "-Rin, put that down." Rin tilted his head. "Why?" "That's a jellyfish," Shiro told him, "-it's very poisonous." "Oh," Rin laughed, "-that's why it tickles!" …tickles? No, of course it only tickled. The Vatican had tried slipping the kid poison before- he remembered the fallout afterward vividly. Yuri had been furious. (But for all her fury, it had only been sort of effective.) "Yeah," Shiro said, "-which is why you should just put it down now. Or even better, chuck as far as you can into the ocean." Rin looked at the jellyfish- and then very slowly looked back at him- -and smiled. Oh, Shiro thought, he'd seen that smile before. But it certainly didn't come from his mother. Shiro looked at Rin. Looked at the jellyfish. Looked back at Rin. Rin took a step forward- and for the first time in his life, in the battle between fight or flight, Fujimoto Shiro, the man who had overpowered Satan, chose flight.

[astrowarr]

there's something about jimmy and martyn this season

four times over jimmy has walked the well-worn path into the realm of death all alone, his feet sinking in the inky, star-speckled puddles of the void and his hand shaking on the icy doorknob of After. and the familiarity— and oh, is it so familiar— never manages to suffocate the dread each and every time. the knowledge that this door, these wings, those eyes are all horrifyingly inevitable, following him, miraculously, across worlds.

until now. he steps in the pond of the void and there's a warm hand in his, so warm jimmy knows it to be unwelcome in this place. no one has ever been here with him before, and never in his endless lives and deaths has he ever been left staring wide-eyed at theback of someone's head, the back of martyn's head.

and martyn leads the way. there are no words— there never have been in this place— but his hand is firm and real in jimmy's. he walks confidently, the soles of his shoes marring the ground he walks across with ripples that never stop. and this time, martyn reaches out, and swings that haunting door wide open, ceasing its endless whispers all at once.

when martyn turns around, his eyes lock with jimmy's, and he doesn't speak— no one can, here, jimmy is sure of it— but he might as well, really. his eyes are tired, but they are certain. martyn says nothing, but jimmy hears him. of course he does.

follow me this time, would you?

[oakskull]

woah guys. guess what. ive been doing more drawings.

specifically, ive been using a spray bottle for my water color, which has been pretty fun

also ive been trying to use a more limited/ cohesive use of colors. to practice more with values

(dont worry about the fact that the shapes dont really make sense. i was brain vomiting on the paper. as is my right. also this one was inspired by flocks and pyres. it wasnt a scene or anything (nothing specific at least) but i was thinking about the fic. ive reread it recently. i kinda want to redraw the scene i did draw instead of drawing a new one. ag)

also also!! i am doing more white pen!!

¡fun fun!

[text: Ranchers] (id add the smiley but it looks weird </3)