#no pressure to match ofc

[viciousins]

hadn't imagined being married with a pending separation at this stage of her life . somewhere along the way , their fairytale had turned into a nightmare — one she was growing desperate to wake up from . as echoing foot steps make themselves known , lucia's heart instantly falls to the pit of her stomach . would recognise those foot steps anywhere . the anticipation used to make her excited , heart skipping beats as she waited for him to appear . but now , she felt dread . anger . heartache . ' they told me you wouldn't be here , ' she clarifies before he has the chance to comment . eyes haven't left the bag in front of her , channeling anger into the clothes she's now carelessly shoving inside of it . ' i'm just getting what's rightfully mine , ' there's an irony in the way she declares such a statement , knowing there's a shirt or two of his in there . they were her favourites , after all . @lacehearts

[mischiefstirred]

[imperatcr]

A golden cast over Mr. Ring-a-Ding's eyes signifies sunlight and defeat and ascension and Lux. Lux Imperator, reuniting with the heavens. Casting off his shell and returning to an infinite and formless state of being.

It signifies the flight of a god.

...and the grounding of his harbinger.

Mr. Ring-a-Ding falls to the ground, his gaze blank. There is no way to describe the experience of being brought to life under the blinding luminosity of a being beyond the realm of reason, only to be left hollow and small in their absence.

A mind expanded and shrunk. An infinite experience condensed into three short and dizzying months.

Mr. Ring-a-Ding tries to push himself to his feet, tumbling down again as soon as he's upright.

Jeepers. Maybe he'll just stay riiiight here for a while. He can enjoy the warmth of the sunlight, the plush carpet, the scent of smoke and burnt film...

Waitaminute. The fire! Did everyone get out okay?

Hopping up to his feet with a burst of newfound energy, Mr. Ring-a-Ding scrambles up the rubble of the steps as fast as he can climb them. ...which, admittedly, isn't very fast at all.

"Hello? Is anyone still-- still here?" The Doctor? Belinda?

...Mister Pye!

The toon hacks and coughs as he gets closer to the source of the explosion, smoke and debris heavy in the air. He might not technically need to breath like a human would, but it still feels appropriate to respond to his environment.

"Is anybody in here?"

For a long moment, Mr. Ring-a-Ding doesn't notice much of anything. Then, like a guiding light from on-high (should he say "thank you, Lux"?), a shaft of sunlight flickers over an unmoving form amidst the rubble.

"Hold on, Mr. Pye! I'm comin'!" The toon pants and heaves as he struggles to move piles of broken walls and shelves off of the man's body. With the limp frame finally free, Mr. Ring-a-Ding digs in his heels to drag Mr. Pye out into a clearer section of the theater, being as mindful as he can be about the angry-looking burns and scorch marks littering the poor man's limbs.

"Come on, don't go into the light..." (If Lux Imperator is all the light in the cosmos, is he "the light at the end of the tunnel," too? Something to ponder at a later date.)

Mr. Ring-a-Ding sits on the human's chest, giving him one big slap to knock some sense back into him. That's almost certainly not proper human medical procedure, but Mr. Ring-a-Ding is frightened and his thoughts are jumbled and this sort of thing always seems to work in his cartoons.

When Mr. Pye blinks open his eyes, he'll find himself prone, in pain, and with an all-too-familiar blue face peering down at him from above.

@deploy-the-fantasy -- !

[quietlyblooms-gone]

open to mutuals | ft. bad moon rising | modern fantasy ii ♡

she hasn't been in-store for quite some time. she hasn't been home in quite some time.

it figures someone would eventually hunt her down. it isn't like she's been very forthcoming with information; after all, how does she tell someone she was murdered, but she's fine now? how does she avoid the concern, the look of pity as they realize, oh, she's changed. yet she will forever be this way, too, gifted an eternity when she only wanted a few good years. that would have been enough. it was enough.

she doesn’t know how to grieve the life she lost, much less let someone be there for her. she hasn’t seen her family, though not for their lack of trying. chiyo simply keeps avoiding them, avoiding everyone and their well-meaning worry and the pit of dread gnawing at her stomach. that dread hits full force, makes her feel like she might throw up as a familiar pair of eyes lock onto her own.

the park is always quiet this time of night. usually there’s no one there but her, making it the perfect place to get away and think. or not think. she’s been doing a lot of that. chiyo clutches the strap of her backpack like a lifeline and offers a small smile, unsure what mask to put on this time. the buzzing in her mind is too loud. “ hey, ” she greets. it’s uncharacteristically awkward. “ fancy seeing you here. ” is that the best she has?

[unholiis]

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒. their sound carried across the wide expanse of the shrine grounds, a greeting of the midnight breeze, a letter left behind by those that visited this ( once sacred ) ground. after a day filled with the hustle and bustle of visitors, guests, curious travelers [ ━━━ ] it was nice to have a semblance of peace back. making the final rounds through the shrine grounds was often a moment where zenji allowed once dampened thoughts to flood over, allows centuries of anger, spite, betrayal to settle within crafted body. the irony that this fallen deity took care of its own fallen shrine, ah, the irony was not lost on them. yet, it's the presence of another soul that stops the serpent from further descending into an abyss of their own making. visitors this late ? ... thrill seekers hoping to catch a glimpse of the supposed hauntings around this shrine ? a tilt of his head, dangling ear - rings twinkle underneath the faint lantern lights and the smile that curves lips upwards is perhaps the only thing that outshines it slightly.

❝ during the night these are private grounds. ❞ tall body is moved to lean easily against one of the pillars, arms crossing over one another. ❝ care to share why you couldn't wait 'till morning ? or did you wish to see me without interruption ? ❞ oh ━━━ there it is, his incessant need to try and dig into another's skin. ━━━ [ open ! ]

[tvrningon]

closed starter | @vonerde hears chiyo whine!

she loves wearing stockings, loves the feeling of them on her legs and the visual appeal of them, but man, she feels way too hot. if chiyo had to guess, she'd bet that it might be the alcohol causing her to feel as if she's melting despite the skirt she wears; regardless, these stockings need to come off and come off fast. she's ready to be in shorts again, to slip into bed and pass out.

her heels have to come off first, though, and they're proving to be a tad difficult. the first one was no problem, an absolute breeze as it should be. the second one? chiyo can't seem to get it off no matter how much she fiddles with the strap's buckle... which, admittedly, isn't very much fiddling before she's turning sad, puppy-like eyes to gaia. propping herself against the arm of the couch, she's too tired to feel any shame as she wiggles her outstretched leg in the divinity's direction.

" gaia, can ya get this offa me? please? i'm hot and the damn buckle's bein' stubborn. "

[bejoomi]

* ♪ – end on a high note

joomi has written a lot since the start of the songwriting camp. to be fair, he always writes a lot, but taking entire afternoons' worth of lessons on how to make better songs has been extra inspiring for him. it's all encouraging, too; his company cares enough about cultivating real artists that they'll put on a camp for everyone across axis labels.

he never thought he would care so much about that. now, though, he finds himself hoping he's exactly the kind of trainee studio delta wants. he likes it here. it's so strange to say, but he doesn't know if he's ever been as happy in his life as he is these days.

when one of the songwriting instructors challenged him to write a song meant for a girl group, joomi accepted it happily. he thinks he has something solid. the instrumental is already down; he just needs vocals on the track, and he intentionally included some pretty high notes. he can't hit those, at least not nearly as well as he'd like for a demo.

joomi has plenty of friends in other companies, but he thinks the right thing to do is reach out to hyejin about doing the demo first. she's the only girl he knows in their company, after all, and he imagines if this song ever does make it into the world on an album somehow, she'll probably be singing part of it then anyway.

the problem is, he did write this song for a girl group, not hyejin in particular. hyejin can both sing and rap, which is great for the sake of the demo, but what joomi is finding is that it's a "jack of all trades, master of none" situation. he can't blame hyejin for that at all. expecting someone to be a belting vocalist and a half decent rapper simultaneously as a trainee would be kind of insane.

he still doesn't know what to do about the high notes, though, because she doesn't hit them as cleanly as joomi would like. it's just a demo. it doesn't have to be perfect, but when it comes to joomi and songwriting, it has to be the best he can get it.

"let's try that again?" he suggests, he and hyejin sitting in one of the vocal practice rooms as they run through the song together, hyejin still getting a feel for it. "it's an e5," he reminds her, and goes to the piano conveniently in the practice room for exactly this purpose (it's why he picked this practice room in particular, too). he plays the note so she can hear it clearly, then nods encouragingly.

–– @behyejin

[mekatrio]

uploading this bc im very very proud of it :>

[bledthrus]

sender  pushes  receiver  to  admit  that  they  need  them. @eatbitch  ♱  shauna  shipman.

mari  is  the  absolute  last  member  of  their  village  to  have  a  nice  thing  to  say  to  shauna.   as  the  seasons  changed  and  the  snow  of  their  first  winter  finally  began  to  melt,   tensions  between  the  two  of  them  had  only  grown.   mari  has  her  theories  on  where  it  began   (  something  something,   shauna  throwing  a  bitch  fit  that  natalie  was  crowned  antler  queen  instead  of  her,   and  throwing  an  even  bigger  bitch  fit  that  mari  would  dare  to  treat  her  as  such.   that's  what  mari  thinks,   at  least  ).   nevertheless,   they've  taken  to  fighting  like  dogs  in  the  middle  of  camp.   mari  almost  has  fun  with  it,   even.   enjoys  pushing  shauna's  buttons,   takes  joy  in  the  way  shauna's  face  gets  red  just  with  the  way  mari  rolls  her  eyes  at  her.

there's  still  something  kinder  left  in  mari's  heart  for  shauna,   though.   deep  down  and  buried  underneath  all  the  horrors  of  all  that's  happened  to  them,   mari  still  really  does  care  for  her.   once  upon  a  time,   they  were  just  teenage  girls  on  the  best  soccer  team  in  the  state  together.   mari  supposes  too  that  there's  something  in  her  that  still  almost  feels  bad  for  shauna  still,   after  all  she's  lost.   it's  hard  to  express  that  though  with  all  the  anger  that  shauna  exhibits  in  front  of  everyone,   and  so  it's  far  easier  to  just  antagonize  her  and  hope  maybe  shauna  can  tell  that  there's  affection  buried  deep  within  the  insults.

mari  doesn't  remember  what  this  latest  argument  started  off  with.   one  moment,   their  camp  was  peaceful,   and  the  next  moment,   the  two  of  them  are  bickering  loudly  with  a  small  audience  starting  to  accumulate.   she  does  remember,   of  course,   shauna  pushing  and  prodding  her.   demanding  that  mari  admits  that  she  needs  her.   that  they  all  need  her.   and  sure,   maybe  in  some  roundabout  way,   mari  does  need  shauna.   she's  the  best  butcher  they  have.   lord  knows  that  if  mari  took  a  crack  at  it,   she'd  end  up  with  a  pile  of  pelts  far  too  jagged  to  use  for  much  of  anything  and  clumsy  lumps  of  meat.   but  maybe  deep  down  she  needs  shauna  further  than  just  that.   needs  shauna  to  let  out  her  pent  up  anger  on.   she's  a  far  safer  target  than  anyone  else.   someone  who'll  actually  go  toe  to  toe  with  her  and  lob  insults  back.   maybe  in  some  way  it's  bad  for  her,   but  she  knows  how  fucking  good  it  feels  to  fight  and  be  fought  back  with  by  someone  who  won't  let  her  have  it  easy.

❝  alright,   fine !  ❞   mari  shouts,   shoving  shauna  away  from  her  as  she  does  for  good  measure.  ❝   fine,   shauna,   you  wanna  hear  it  so  bad ?   we  need  you.   i  need  you.  ❞   she  throws  her  hands  up,   half  in  defeat,   half  in  something  she  can't  quite  put  a  name  to.   something  in  her  almost  feels  relieved  to  actually  say  it  out  loud,   just  how  important  shauna  is  to  the  group.   antler  queen  or  no,   she's  still  an  essential  member  of  the  team,   just  as  she'd  always  been.   mari  just  loathes  to  admit  it  so  openly,   loathes  the  idea  of  letting  it  get  to  shauna's  head.   ❝  are  you  done  with  your  rampage  now  or  what ?  ❞

[mad-hunts]

"I crave the sensation of your blade against my skin."

well, this gave a whole new meaning to 'there's a first time for everything,' barton thought. though that isn't to say that he didn't find something arousing about the current situation they were in. i mean what with barton being dressed in the typical clothes he wore whilst he was 'the dollmaker' and kat just being dressed in normal clothes. barton had entrapped her as well at that moment because she had nearly seen what was inside of the freezer in his workshop; because trust me, when i say that barton had something horrific in there, i truly mean that.

but even barton could acknowledge that the way he went about getting her away from it might've been a little extreme. he had caged her against a wall with his hand placed against it next to her head, essentially trapping her there - and made an explicit effort to not hold her at knife point as the last time that had happened? things didn't go so well for them to put it simply. but barton had to admit, thoughts did begin to run through his head a mile a minute related to his own paranoia (as well as his trust issues) that kat would likely some day betray him.

thus, if that wasn't extreme enough already, he grilled kat quite aggressively as to why she was there and what exactly she was aiming to accomplish by looking into the freezer. but after a few minutes of tense silence that built up the suspense between them... barton realized that she was merely there to try to find him. which, caused him to apologize to her, and lean forward to give her a soft kiss on the lips to show her he meant kat no harm. for he really did feel bad for assuming the worst out of her. but that wasn't the end of their kissing.

due to their close proximity and barton wanting to channel that 'riled up' feeling he had within him in a more acceptable way, he began to kiss kat multiple times. things only seemed to escalate from there as he took the opportunity to try to put down the metacarpal saw he had in one hand in order to pick kat up - but she told him that she craved feeling the blade. that statement was enough to get barton to fling off his mask and carry her to the sofa bed he had in the room.

he then eased her down roughly on there before saying something to kat in between kisses, ❝ ahh, so you are alright with certain types of 'badness' after all, aren't you? and by that i mean you somehow couldn't stand it when i was bratty towards you, but the thought of possibly being cut with a blade now excites you. a blade that has no doubt helped me kill several people, ❞ barton whispered that last part in kat's ear as he trailed the small saw he had in hand carefully down her neck at an angle. a sly smile formed on his lips afterward, which could be seen as he pulled away from her lips.

❝ i certainly had my suspicions that your nature as a vigilante is a bit questionable considering that you want to protect me... but now i know for sure that it is. ❞ he was saying this mostly just to try to get her riled up, in truth, but barton did think that maybe the other wasn't as good as she portrayed herself to be on the outside. not to say that he would ever be the type of person to judge kat if she wasn't.

[dracimexidae]

Just one set

One set more

Jasmine ONE SET

[lususnatura]

“ tell me, what happened?”

in yet another downpour that gotham was experiencing, blamore found himself in the middle of it; and without an umbrella as well. not that that really mattered much, as blamore was in the type of mood that would sometimes make people stand in the rain in hopes that it might cleanse them — relieving their body and spirit of the troubles that held onto them like a vice. he just wished that he knew one single question: why? but the closest blamore had ever gotten to having that question answered was by consulting itself, and yet, it still didn't know for sure whether it had the right idea about things.

was it coming back to life the way he was now (half-monster and half-human) all part of some sick joke run by nature itself? or, had it happened because whatever higher power there may be out there deemed that he wasn't done here — that he didn't get to die just yet? blamore truly didn't know, so perhaps dwelling on it would just end up making him mad in the end. existential dread was something everyone experienced though... right? a sigh slipped through its lips as it sat on a bench in robinson park, uncovering the bandage that concealed the gash on its hand. he'd moved it only to discover it still looked as bad as when he first got it.

a groan slipped through blamore's lips as it was just about to slam its body into the bench out of frustration before it heard someone talk to it. now, looking up, the creature could see that they were someone he definitely didn't know. though they seemed to be asking about his hand all the same. blamore immediately plastered a small smile on its face before going for its go-to answer for things like this, ❝ ahh, it's just an occupational hazard, really. no need to worry about me. i already do enough of that on my own, ❞ while chuckling slightly awkwardly, it then quickly put the bandage back over its wound. blamore could only hope that he'd only gotten a glimpse at it and didn't see that his skin had been partially burned.

whoever they (loki) was, they also had an umbrella on them, he thought. so perhaps if blamore was nice to him... it could move this existential conversation it was having with itself somewhere else. preferably with air conditioning as it was starting to get cold, ❝ say, what are you doing taking a leisurely stroll through the park when its raining this hard? i answered your question, so i think its only fair that you answer mine. ❞

[catseyenebulae]

30 chapters of clatchet… [takes drag out of cigarette] you never get this in today’s economy

[bookwyrm-art-stuff]

Ok but consider

Lengthy explanation:

The rooster is a rhode island red and the chicks are golden comets (comets turn out a very pretty golden brown as adults, google it if you're curious.) Reds are and older and well-established breed, they are one of the most common commercial laying breeds for brown eggs. Comets are a cross between rhode island reds and white leghorns*, and are generally a bit smaller and more sweet tempered than the reds; however for the most part they are very similar in personality. In my experience both breeds possess an ungodly amount of stubbornness and are very food motivated. Also if you were attached to the black and white thing, reds tend to have little bits black on their wing and tail feathers, whereas comets have the same in white, theirs being a bit more (think half a feather vs just the end.)

*If you want more info on white leghorns (the other parent of comets) for whatever reason, they are one of the biggest commercial laying breeds, laying the vast majority of white eggs you'd find at a store. They are a small breed, a little flighty as is typical of leghorns, and both hens and roosters have huge combs; the hens' often flop over.

Don't look at me I'm so close to drawing the stans as roosters and dipper and mabel as chicks

[quietlyblooms-gone]

@ofurizen gets a lil plotted starter 💜

she should have known someone would come for her eventually. no matter how accidental the deaths, she’s killed people, left others wounded and disoriented — chiyo is a threat to the humans she once helped protect. with him. her chest feels tight and her heart heavy as their eyes meet in the dark of her kitchen. v.

what does she say? her eyes must say it all, brimming with tears of unbearable longing and guilt. yet they don’t explain how she’s standing there before him when she should be dead, nor why it is she that he’s been sent to kill. chiyo doesn’t know where to begin as fear settles beside her heart, icy and uncomfortable. there was a time when he would have done anything to protect her, but much has changed. she’s changed. can he care for a monster, allow her to live beside him when she’s now a risk?

“ v… ” she can’t keep her voice steady. the first tear falls, then another. there aren’t any words of comfort now, no poetry to quote that can make it all better. there is only a distance she is afraid to cross, legs frozen in place.

if he advances, she will not move. if he strikes, she will not fight back. if she is to meet her end again, she will gladly let it happen by his hands.

[millenari]

Ok ok ok so following up on your response to another anon abt gold rush from Tugger’s pov… if you need a beta reader SAY SO I’m absolutely feral and also an English major so I would be happy to help (also pls ignore my poor writing in this ask I’m too lazy to be proper on tumblr dot com)

YES I would be very interested!! The thing that kills me most abt editing is how I can read something I wrote 12 times and yet somehow still miss the most absolutely glaring of typos each time, bc of course I wrote it and my brain doesn't want to process the words as words. I try to combat this as much as possible by taking (long) breaks between editing sessions but that makes editing take SO long so YES that would be awesome.