#instead of commenting it this time

[getindumdums]

Cause it was gerrymandered

Why Does it look like texas

[bisexualcroissant]

thinking about jeremy hitting rock bottom his freshman year, losing so much in one disastrous night, the repercussions of which would continue to haunt him for years. thinking about jeremy spiralling so bad cody said they “really thought we were going to lose him for a while there.” cat saying the right therapist can be “life changing”, using jeremy as an example. thinking about how bad jeremy’s crash out must have been, understandably; thinking about his family continuing to blame him for noah’s death—from the coldness of annalise, to the outright antagonism of bryson, to joshua ignoring him for years. the wilshires doing everything in their power to cover up what happened at the banquet rather than lending an ounce of support to a boy who had lost his brother in terrible circumstances, because jeremy was there, because it was so much easier to blame him for all of it. coldblooded, if you ask me. jeremy needed help, not damage control.

thinking about jeremy having probably the worst year of his life, having the opposite of emotional support from his family, and still somehow coming out of it a better person. thinking of all the work he put in to be better and succeeding—i’d rather die than ever be that person again. believe me. despite the hostility of his family system, despite being blamed for the fallout, despite the guilt and heartbreak that “nearly destroyed him”. still jeremy managed to build a new life for himself out of the wreckage, going so far as to be captain of the trojans, with a team who respect and admire him. still he managed to come out of it with such a capacity for kindness and goodness and lifting the people around him up.

thinking about jeremy continuing to be the human embodiment of sunshine despite living in such a cold home that was never forgiving or warm to him. jeremy knox, you will always be loved by me.

[arcanegifs]

Here are some Season 2 Arcane GIF comparisons before and after I color and sharpen them! | Season 1 Comparison GIFs

[queenharumiura]

2024 Akira Amano 'The Characters' Exhibition bonus 'Selfie-style' cards.

[ID: Official art of multiple characters from the manga and anime Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

They're all drawn as if taking a selfie, most of them smiling and/or doing a peace sign or another playful gesture with their hand.

Reborn, Colonnello, Viper and Fon are in their cursed forms, with Viper pulling their hood down, trying to hide more of their face.

Gokudera waves at us, with "Vongola Famiglia" written on his palm and the Vongola's emblem drawn on it too. Lambo is in his Ten Years Later version, Tsuna's shown both in his normal state and in Hyper Dying Will mode, Basil is in Hyper Dying Will mode too and Chrome's wearing cat ears.

Squalo and Xanxus are scowling. /End ID]

ID courtesy of @hopeswriting.

[leier-coyol]

Needle felted lagiacrus update

dude looks a little fuzzy cause I haven't trimmed him

[mouse-fantoms]

If ya’ll think I’m not crying like a baby about this then let me inform you 😭😅

[acid-ixx]

oh my god, i got so distracted by a concept this anon sent about the loving family series, that i accidentally switched my focus on writing a oneshot for it instead 😭

guess that means you guys will be spoiled with not only a new chapter for a&a, but you people who have been thirsting for a loving family scraps will also be well-fed...

[electrozeistyking]

Happy Birthday, Beanie! :D

I designed her on this day one year ago :3

Fun fact: this is technically how Beanie’s fourth bootday went down. She finally got to try whatever awful concoction drones whip up to make cake that day!

Additional fact: originally had this one scheduled to post since my own birthday... which was apparently 230 days ago, but i meant in months. which in that case would be seven.

[girlsdads]

🍽

[starlight-eclipsed]

The only lights besides the eerie glow of malice are the dizzying dance of poe lanterns floating through the halls. Dark will never admit the how those little spots of brightness comfort and calm him, even though he does not need light to see.

Howdy, folks. I'm sleepy and can't think of anything funny to say, so I'm just gonna cut to the chase: Go read A Dark Among the Lights by @luckylectio on AO3.

[proxycrit]

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[melmedardaapologist]

oh the push and pull between feeling excitement at the prospect of mel having her magical heritage enrich her character and provide an interesting counterpoint to her medarda heritage and feeling grief because on the other hand you realize that making her a fighter was the only way they could justify keeping her in the second season where they sacrifice the complex political narrative in favor of a cleaner cut fantasy and thus sidelining an integral part of what made her character so enjoyable in the first place

[ef-1]

you and I are not the same, you are defending the formulafakers admins, I'm praying they all get strongly worded legal letters to put the fear of the risen christ in all their hearts ❤️

[blueberrybanee]

Hihihi, I'm sorry for not posting for a while, and I know this is super late, but have this drawing I made for the anniversary of the airing of Hostage Crisis, Cad Bane's first ever appearance on screen!!! :D

Okay, I'm gonna go rest now cuz I worked my ass off on this, even though it doesn't really look it to me SOBS. Goodnight y'all