#am i using the tags correctly?

[morwee]

THIS! THIS!! THIS IS WHAT I LIKE!!

Time to beat up the King.

—

Theory that Rouxls Kaard is actually kinda OP (and that he talks in butchered English because whatever he says in normal speech can automatically become a rule)

[anershu]

Uhh just a doodle with baby obkk bc I got bored...

[miku-meeku]

[Now... Choose me.]

was listening to mafumafu's otome game song and my brain kicked in and was like "yes the dol LIs in an otome game instead"

now i contemplate if i wanna render this cuz once again, im too lazy dies,,,

also they tried winking, how attractive, very charming.

[anws uh,,, ref pics,,, just in case,,,]

go listen to mafumafu, he's amazing.

[playendroll]

MGS Creatures Part TWO!!!

HELLO!!!!!!!!! I APPRECIATE THE LOVE ON THE LAST ONE, IT MEANS A LOT :)!!❤️❤️I am Joyous the creatures are enjoyed..Getting crazy.. HERES SOME MORE IVE DRAWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They’re all over the place. My bade….ALSO SOME OF THE LIQUIDMANTIS STUFF IS VERY SELF-INFULGENT. I GOT CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love doodling these cats So much… SPOILERS FOR MGS2 KINDA BASICALLY.. there are less Ocelots around this time I WILL BE FIXING THAT!!!!!!!!!

ITS REEEEALLY FUN TO SHARE RHESE ALL AT ONCE.. so wonderful Ok.. IM STILL ON MGS4 BUT I DID FINISH 5! HOW FUN!!!!!!!!! I HOPEYOU HAVE A NICE DAY.. ALSO , AGAINN, IF YOU WANT TO SEE ME MORE IM ON TWT @ rpgmakerenjoyer … I post these there too!! Just not In little bundles like this :3 AHH!!!

[fr3dricckk]

A Wolfstar WIP I'm currently working on :^)

[defyingdipity]

something about the key colors for elphaba💚/glinda🩷/fiyero💙 and how they reveal a little about their dynamics with each other like:

💚🩷 as gelphie:

complementary colors to a tea!

their explosive clashing is what brings out the best in both, making the big picture shine brighter

"pink goes good with green" "goes well with green" (it so does)

🩷💙 as gliyero:

aesthetically pleasing contrasting color combo like green/pink!

what really catches my eye tho is the underlying pink/blue as traditionally f/m gendered colors... (it's giving the "we're perfect together" traditional het couple)

💚💙 as fiyeraba:

NOT complementary colors this time... cold/cold color combo suggests some underlying similarity (aligned in their disillusioned view of the world, even if the way they deal with it differs at first)

they work effectively as harmonious colors that sit next to each other on the color wheel, creating a stable overall atmosphere

bonus! 🩷💚💙 as the thropple:

they're basically the RGB color wheel. they're everything you'll ever need.

[chanelle-lize]

I used to have a really hard time bringing up the fact that I graduated from high school a year late without feeling the need to explain why and insisting that it wasn't my fault while simultaneously kicking myself for how much I sounded like I was just making excuses for something I should take responsibility for.

Then I watched Dimension 20's "The Seven" and suddenly I could simply say that I was a super senior.

The first time I heard the phrase "super senior" was in reference to Antiope Jones, a Black girl who had been held back a year after getting kidnapped and imprisoned by members of a fundamentalist cult, and like, girl, same.

So, since then, instead of anxiously spinning out any time I tried to tell a personal high school anecdote, I could just say I was a super senior, and then my brain would auto complete that statement with "like Antiope Jones" and I'd feel good about myself because Antiope Jones Is That Bitch.

That's what the problem had been the whole time. I wasn't worried about how other people would perceive me; I had been struggling with how I perceived myself.

Thanks, Aabria.

[kingtheghast]

I’d say save me father but I’m not sure if he can even save himself—

(Wanted to play with gouache in my sketch book)

Read Golden Hour by @/kailysander

[fearwithout]

you had me worried so worried that this would last but now I'm learning learning that this will pass

[bestducky]

Fragments of Tomorrow

Master Chief x female reader

Chapter 1: Static

Prologue.

Summary: Stranded and alone aboard the crumbling wreck of the Forward Unto Dawn, (Y/N) searches desperately for answers in a place that feels more dead than alive.

When a strange voice — calm, commanding — reaches out to her from the ship’s systems, (Y/N) finds herself an unwilling witness to something far beyond her understanding: the awakening of a soldier unlike any she’s ever seen.

As the ship groans and tears itself apart around her, (Y/N) realizes the real nightmare hasn’t even begun yet.

Notes: Chapter one is here, around 3k words :D. I hope I'm writing it well, if not, someone please tell me! <3

The machine lay half-open on the worktable, its strange internal wiring catching the flickering light of the broken bulb overhead. (Y/N) tightened a tiny bolt with shaking fingers, feeling the satisfying click as it slotted into place. She sat back on her stool, adjusting her glasses with the back of her wrist. Her head was starting to pound — too much concentration, too little water, and the strange electric tension that had been slowly thickening the air all evening.

She should have stopped hours ago. Normal people would have. But curiosity was a stubborn thing. It dug into your ribs and refused to let go.

She wiped her hands on a grease-streaked cloth, eyes scanning the machine again. It didn't make sense. None of it did. Most old tech was predictable — gears, wires, printed circuit boards — simple things she could rebuild in her sleep. But this? This machine was... different.

The crystalline filaments running through the device hummed faintly under her touch, shifting colors in ways she couldn't explain. The casing wasn't any alloy she recognized. There were no screws, no visible fastenings — just smooth plates sealed with a precision that felt alien. Almost like it had grown instead of being built. And the strangest part — it wasn't connected to anything. No external power. No visible batteries. And yet it was waking up.

The apartment was silent except for the occasional creak of settling wood and the soft rasp of her breathing. Outside her window, the city lights shimmered in the humid night air, smearing neon trails across the glass.

(Y/N) leaned forward, elbows resting on the worktable, and studied the exposed core of the machine. There, at the very center, something glowed — faint and blue, like the last heartbeat of a dying star.

Maybe it was foolish, but...

She reached out carefully, fingertips hovering just above the pulsing core. The air around it felt... thicker. Heavier. Like standing at the edge of a deep, deep pool and feeling the pressure of the water dragging you down.

Go on.

The thought flickered across her mind, not her own voice exactly, but familiar all the same.

Go on. Find out.

Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed a fingertip to the edge of the crystal.

The first jolt was soft. Barely a static shock — like brushing a balloon after rubbing it against your hair. But then it deepened. The vibration grew under her skin, humming through bone and blood, until her vision wavered at the edges and her ears rang with a rising tone that wasn't quite sound.

(Y/N) staggered back, nearly knocking over the stool. The machine pulsed once, twice — and then the lights overhead blew out with a sharp pop, plunging the room into darkness. She gasped, clutching the edge of the table for balance. A deep, low thrumming filled the room — a vibration so strong she could feel it in her teeth. And somewhere inside the machine, the glow sharpened into a blinding point of light.

Curiosity battled fear inside her chest, fists clenched, heart racing. Part of her wanted to run, to get out, to abandon this thing before it could drag her into whatever nightmare it had been hiding. But another part of her — the stubborn part, the dreaming part — stayed rooted in place.

This was it. This was the moment she'd been chasing all her life without even knowing it. The moment when the ordinary ended. The moment when the world changed.

(Y/N) lifted a hand, squinting into the blinding light, and took a single step forward.

The machine exploded.

Not with fire. Not with sound. But with light — a wave of it, so bright and pure it seemed to strip the world down to its bones.

The floor vanished under her feet. The apartment walls tore apart like paper. The city beyond the window melted into nothingness.

And (Y/N) fell — not downward, but inward — folded into a place with no up, no down, no time, no breath.

Floating.

Sinking.

Burning.

She tried to scream, but no sound came out. The pressure around her crushed her chest, squeezed her bones, pulled at her mind until thoughts scattered like ash in a storm.

Every nerve ending flared with pain. Every heartbeat was a war cry. She was being torn apart and rebuilt at the same time, stretched across places she couldn't see or name, pulled through cracks that shouldn't exist.

The light tore through her glasses, blinding her. She reached out blindly, desperately, for something — anything — but there was only the endless roar of static filling her ears, her lungs, her mind.

Come.

A voice? Or her own thoughts, unraveling?

Come through. Come home.

Then the world snapped. Like a rubber band pulled too tight. Like a door slamming shut behind her.

And (Y/N) hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from her lungs, pain lancing through her ribs.

She lay there for a long moment, dazed and broken, blinking up at a ceiling she didn’t recognize. Steel beams. Flickering emergency lights. Distant alarms echoing through endless corridors.

The air smelled wrong — cold, sterile, tinged with something sharp and chemical.

(Y/N) coughed weakly, curling onto her side, her body trembling with aftershocks. Everything was a blur of shifting shadows and red warning lights. She pressed her palms against the ground — smooth, cold metal — and forced herself to sit up, muscles screaming in protest.

Her ears rang with a high, thin whine. Her mind spun, trying to piece together what had happened.

Where was she?

What had she done?

The machine. The machine at the shop. The humming, the light—

And then... this.

The emergency lights flickered again, revealing long, empty corridors stretching in every direction. Pipes dripped overhead. Sparks rained from severed cables. The ship groaned and shifted, metal hull flexing under unseen pressures.

A low, rhythmic thud sounded somewhere far off — heavy, mechanical, steady.

Footsteps?

No — too slow, too deliberate.

(Y/N) pushed herself to her feet, swaying dangerously. Her hands scraped against the rough surface of the deck plating, leaving faint streaks of blood. She staggered toward the nearest wall, pressing a hand against it for balance.

Panic clawed at the edges of her mind — hot, sharp, relentless.

Stay calm, she thought wildly. Think. Breathe.

The ship — if that’s what this was — vibrated under her feet, the distant rumble growing louder. Another flash of red light illuminated something stenciled across the wall in large, blocky letters:

FWD UNTO DAWN.

(Y/N) stared at it, the words swimming in and out of focus. She had no idea what it meant. She had no idea where she was.

All she knew was this:

She wasn’t home anymore.

The corridors stretched out before her, endless and hollow.

(Y/N) staggered forward, hands scraping along the steel wall for balance. Every step echoed into the silence, a hollow, ghostly sound swallowed almost immediately by the weight of the place. Shapes lurched at the edges of her sight — broken machinery, shattered panels, puddles of stagnant water pooling on the warped deck.

The emergency lighting pulsed in slow, sickly heartbeats, casting jagged shadows that crawled across the walls. Something creaked far above her — the metallic groan of a ship too long adrift.

(Y/N) hugged herself instinctively, trying to stop the shivers racking her body. Her clothes — a simple T-shirt and jeans — were thin armor against the unnatural chill that seeped into her bones.

Where was she? What was this place? Had she died somehow? Was this some twisted version of the afterlife, a purgatory built of broken machines and endless dark?

The static buzzed faintly at the edge of her hearing, a whisper growing louder with each staggering step.

Her fingers brushed against a console jutting from the wall — slick with condensation, sparking weakly from exposed wires. Above it, a shattered screen flickered fitfully.

Text scrolled sluggishly across the fractured display:

WARNING: HULL BREACH DETECTED WARNING: LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS FAILING WARNING: UNKNOWN PRESENCE DETECTED

Her throat tightened.

Unknown presence.

Was that her? Or... something else?

(Y/N) turned a corner too fast, tripping over a broken pipe jutting from the wall, and tumbled hard to the floor. Pain flared in her wrist and knees, sharp and immediate. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare.

Somewhere in the flickering darkness, a heavy, metallic clang echoed through the ship — closer this time.

(Y/N) forced herself upright, biting down on a sob. She had to find a way out. She had to find someone. Anyone.

The next corridor opened into a cavernous chamber — ceilings soaring high above into shadow. Rows of massive glass pods lined the walls, half-buried in frost and condensation.

Cryo chambers.

She'd seen pictures of them once — in sci-fi movies, in dusty history books. Not real. Not supposed to be real.

She stumbled closer, squinting through the cracks of her glasses. Most of the pods were empty. Shattered. Dead. But one, near the center of the room, still held a figure — massive, still, suspended in cold blue light.

(Y/N)'s breath caught painfully in her throat. The figure was armored head-to-toe in dark green plating, battle-scarred and battered. A rifle was magnetically clipped across its back. Its face — if it even had one — was hidden behind a gold-plated helmet, reflective and cold under the emergency lights.

The air crackled faintly as (Y/N) stepped closer to the cryo chamber. The figure inside loomed behind a thick wall of frost and reinforced glass, massive, intimidating, and utterly alien. She wiped her glasses on the hem of her shirt, trying to clear the smudged lenses. It didn't help much.

She was about to take another uncertain step forward when a voice echoed above her — soft, clear, and very human.

"You're not one of ours."

(Y/N) yelped, stumbling back, her heart hammering against her ribs. She spun around, searching wildly. No figure. No body. Just the voice, threading through broken speakers embedded in the walls.

"Who's there?" she called out, voice shaking.

There was a brief pause — almost thoughtful.

"I'm... Cortana," the voice said at last. "An artificial intelligence assigned to the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn."

Artificial intelligence. (Y/N) turned in a slow circle, trying to spot anything — a camera, a projector — something. Anything.

"You’re... what?" she whispered, stunned.

"A.I.," the voice repeated, a touch of amusement coloring her tone. "A holographic intelligence. Designed to assist in ship operations, combat strategy, and tactical analysis."

(Y/N) stared up at the cracked ceiling, at the broken lights and severed conduits. Talking to a ghost. Talking to a machine. And somehow, the machine sounded more sane than she felt.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried again.

"This is real?" she croaked. "You're real?"

"In a manner of speaking," Cortana said. "And you are very real. Biological signature confirmed: human, female, early-twenties, no UNSC service record detected. Civilian."

(Y/N) swallowed hard.

"Where am I?" she asked.

A pause. Then, evenly: "You're aboard the UNSC vessel Forward Unto Dawn. Current status: critical. Structural integrity compromised. Life support failing."

Her mouth went dry. "What happened?"

"That is... complicated," Cortana answered carefully. "At this moment, our priority is survival. Yours and mine."

The words sank into (Y/N) slowly, cold and heavy. Survival. Not escape. Not rescue. Just survival.

She turned back toward the cryo chamber — toward the silent giant sleeping inside.

"And him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Alive," Cortana said immediately, and there was something fierce in her tone. "Still alive. He's our best chance."

(Y/N) hesitated, heart pounding painfully against her ribs.

"I don't even know who he is."

"You'll find out soon enough," Cortana said quietly.

Another deep rumble shook the floor under their feet — distant, but growing.

"Hostile forces are boarding the ship," Cortana continued, voice sharpening. "I need to bring him back online. He can protect you."

(Y/N) stared at the chamber. The armored figure. The machine's voice in her ear.

Trust a stranger. Trust a machine. Trust a nightmare.

Not much of a choice.

Slowly, she nodded.

"O-okay," she said hoarsely.

Above her, unseen machinery stirred. Systems groaned back to life. The cryo chamber hissed violently, releasing a blast of cold steam. Locks disengaged with a heavy metallic clunk.

The man inside began to wake.

[cloudtufted]

do i have zero clue how to use tumblr? yes.

do i have little to no knowledge of human anatomy? yup.

am i a hoarder gremlin that wants to take all of their art and condemn it to solitary confinement? absolutely.

but will that stop me from drawing a devious cuteguy? NEVER !!!!! hello ddvau nation how are we doing

(ddvau by @xmaruu11 and @kitsuneisi go check it out rn !!!)

[devondespresso]

i will not dedicate hours to explaining that & pairings are not the lower-focus version of romantic pairings, i will not dedicate hours to explaining that & pairings are not the less important version of romantic pairings, i will NOT--

[classyruinsbarbarian]

Okay I love wordgirl found family as much as everyone else in this fandom, but I would like to mention somethings.

Becky has little support when it comes to her superhero stuff, Steven is gone, Miss Power was grooming her to take over the world with her, Huggy's obsession with keeping their identities' a secret being more intense then Becky's. And Scoops & Violet & Rose can help him out, but they are kids and don't know much about being a superhero like Steven or Huggy.

I want to explore the fact that she is leaning onto the villains for support because of how little of it he lacks: Rhyme & Reason really shows it when she admits to being forlorn after helping them become friends again even though it was a way to stop Rhyme from destroying everything and they attack her! She just goes over to the two villains she just met and leans on them for support!

Her villains take to him surprising well; I wouldn't be surprised if they suspect that she's a kid due to them being around it more often and may haps experienced something similar so they are trying to help him out! Which is good, but my goodness as seen in the paragraph above this does not bode well.

And if someone like Amazo guy were to come down to help her, it would not trust him due to The Rise of Miss Power and the incident with Squeaky & Steven which most likely ruined his idea of other superheroes helping train her which JEAHNXNYDS

Also him and the villains are similar to each other, due to neurodiversity, behavior, or just their issues being similar which oof.

I also think about crossover AUs (looking at the Multi-verse Mix-up fic) which with what was stated above is. not. going. to. bode. WELL. outside of Fair City the villains are not going to help her, they will most likely end up either

Confused

will use this to their advantage

Will avoid her

and may be something else but this is the top three reactions to her leaning on them for support and also other superheroes are going to notice that she doesn't trust them or just straight up dislikes them. I do not really interact with superhero media outside of out of context clips, or some kids shows (Wordgirl & Powerpuff girls) but from what I know she will avoid superheroes like Batman and Deadpool the MOST (correct me if I am wrong idk much about anyone else)

This is the end of the analysis, but I feel like I didn't put down all my thoughts, I feel like I am forgetting somethings grrr

[danidoesathing]

I’m taking The Night We Met until people learn how to use it correctly. sorry I’m gatekeeping now. Just because the ship is tragically doomed doesn’t mean it’s tnwm. If they’re not worse off and regretting every second of it while still mourning the love they had then it’s not the Night We Met. You’re looking for Love Like Ghosts. or In the Wind. or I Lied or When the Night is Over or Drops in the Lake or like any other Lord Huron tragic love song. It’s like the main thing they write about. pick any other song. I refuse to let yall keep disrespecting Frankie Lou like this.

[justabeewithapen]

Found a Starscream figure in our old toy bin, so I did the very normal thing of posing my other Transformers to be kicking the snot out of him.

[koszmarnybudyn]

So i listened (basiclly binged in 3 days) find us alive, and it was great (i think i have 3 episodes left till i catch up), so here are my designs for the main cast :)

Also close up to that Harley drawing cause i think its neat: