#typed in google

[daniel-is-me]

i always forget that theyre the same person

[kushblazer666]

was clicking through instagram stories and heard genuinely the worst song i think i’ve ever heard. however you imagine these words being put to music they’re actually being scream rapped over drift phonk

[hinamie]

i fear i can never date a man bc none of them will ever be makoto tachibana

[zephyrchama]

When there's a big scary bug on the doorknob and you go ask Lucifer to get rid of it. And he huffs and sighs and rolls his eyes, because really? A measly bug? Are you being serious rigjht now? You know who you're asking, right?

He walks with his arms crossed because this is just so ridiculous. You know magic. Just magic the bug away. You don't need his help. You are so much bigger than a tiny pest. You could crush it. Yes, you could. And then wash your hands or your foot or whatever you used to crush it. Stop acting like Cerberus is on a rampage. This isn't that complex. It's a bug.

And then he goes and obliterates the doorknob bug anyway. Because he loves you. Are you happy now? Lucifer is expecting a show of appreciation for his efforts. Something simple isn't enough. He saved you, didn't he? From the bug. It was such a menace. He expects more than a little "thanks."

[dunmeshistash]

I was reading - or rather watching - the book dedicated to Daydream Hour released this year, and I came across some pages dedicated to the various characters who give each other Christmas presents. I found it very funny from what little I understood with Google Lens, and was wondering if there was an unofficial English translation. Thanks in advance if you can find it. P.S Pages from 130 to 135 in case you don't understand which ones I mean.

Oh boy, I do have a translation but I think this version is so confusing, it's from when it was in ryoko kui's blog i think

Too much information for me LOL

Here's the untranslated daydream hour version

Yes that's where the Floke family christmas pic comes from.

[pangur-and-grim]

Hi! I have a dinosaur question for you, but idk how ridiculous it might be. So I love triceratops, and I keep thinking about how the cowards never give the dinosaurs feathers. What do you think triceratops feathers would look like? My uneducated mind pictures something like a peacock.

so with dinosaurs, we have to rely on fossil evidence. if there’s evidence of feathers, then they should be depicted with feathers. but if there’s instead evidence of scaly, pebbly skin (like with most ornithischians), then it’s more accurate to depict them with that. the most you could give a ceratopsian is feathers that have been modified into quills, and even then you’d have to do research on the specific species you want to depict, to see if that’s reasonable. I would be hesitant to give Triceratops quills. take this with a handful of salt, but I think the latest on them was weird nipple-like scales.

it does seem like proto-feathers were a basal trait in dinosaurs, because the pycnofibres that pterosaurs have look to be feather analogues (meaning that the archosaur that branched into dinosaurs and pterosaurs likely had proto-feathers), but there are many lineages that went on to lose those feathers. even some theropods (the classic feather group!) may not have had feathers. so it isn’t always a matter of cowardice, it’s more that we have to pay attention to the evidence wherever it points, even if that means we don’t get a fun fluffy T. rex or peacock triceratops. and I am definitely mad about this.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[baker-chan-senpai]

[godisasimp]

You get 2 versions because i couldn't pick which one was better

[captainfairygodmother]

Has someone done this yet?

(In honour of Havers leaving for North Africa 5/06/40 18:00)

[lazylittledragon]

ok so this is Extremely specific but it's the middle of the night and i can't stop thinking about it: anyone who was/is involved in the les mis fandom, did i hallucinate the enjolras cosplayer who made a fan novel and also a fan film and then later was exposed for cheating on his partner, divorcing them and abandoning his child with cancer to go and become a jewish lawyer or was that something that actually happened

[tiredeg]

People everywhere sense imminent danger all around. They sense that whatever just happened is the beginning of the savagery, not the end. People abandon their vehicles and begin to flee on foot. They exit buildings, run down stairs and out doors. People in subway trains and on busses, in halted elevator cars, work to pry open emergency exits and doors. They crawl, walk, and run for their lives. The most basic human instinct is to survive.—Annie Jacobsen, Nuclear War: A Scenario

They’re going to die, probably.  

“It was stupid of us to take the elevator,” Oscar says. 

Carlos manages an eye roll back at him. Oscar’s surprised the motion of his eyeballs doesn’t unbalance him, perched as he is on the railing around the edge of the elevator car, calves straining, reaching his phone up towards the emergency lighting strips. As high as possible, as if he can will the texts out of his phone, force the words out of the frozen elevator, up the shaft and out into the sky, send them floating through the air towards the recipients, soaring past the bombs coming the opposite way. 

Oscar’s no expert but he knows enough Spanish to be able to decipher the glimpses he’s managed of the screen. I will be ok. I love you all. Incongruous against the previous message in the thread, a picture of a scrappy white dog asleep on a couch. Oscar had watched Carlos add a heart react to it not two hours ago when they got back to the hotel after FP2. 

God, two hours ago. One hour and fifty minutes before someone told them to check their phones, before the awful silence as they watched the video. A farmer somewhere in California had put it on Facebook, a mushroom cloud blooming over a power plant. It was shared everywhere, Oscar had watched it with Kim, hunched over Twitter, or X, or whatever. The farmer is probably dead now. Facebook certainly is, anyway.

The bomb hit hundreds of miles away from their hotels in Vegas. Not far enough.

Finally, Carlos hops down, collapsing beside Oscar on the floor of the cab. The wall opposite them is a mirror, floor to ceiling, so Oscar doesn’t have to turn his head. It’s easier this way. 

“I think they have gone through,” Carlos blurts out, like he’d wanted to keep quiet but the words forced their way up his throat. “It has the two grey ticks. I think that means it's gone from my phone but I will not get blue ticks without signal.” 

It takes Oscar a second to catch his drift. There’s no way the messages went through. The signal’s been gone for a few minutes, Oscar reckons, about the same time the elevator stopped. Carlos isn’t an idiot, he must know. Oscar knows. 

“I think that’s right,” Oscar says. “They’ll have signal in Spain still, so they’ll have got it.” 

He feels Carlos sag a little at his words. They’re touching from shoulder to knee, something they wouldn’t have risked this morning. Doesn’t matter now. Probably shouldn’t have mattered at the time. 

“How would you go, if you could choose?” Carlos asks.  

Oscar shrugs. “Dunno, never really thought about it.” 

“Don’t be boring, think about it now.” Carlos shoves into him, puts his body weight behind it, but Oscar’s expecting it, can see him decide in the mirror. He braces himself, doesn’t move. Now they’re tangled. Now he can think. 

“I guess I read this book in school. It was nuclear stuff but not bombs, just radiation, so it was really slow. This one girl took her boyfriend’s good car out for one last drive, then floored it off a cliff in the end. I think I’d like that.” 

Carlos doesn’t say anything, just leans his head onto Oscar’s shoulder proper. If they stay like this too long Oscar won’t be able to feel his arm. Maybe that’s how he’d like to go, let Carlos lean on him limb by limb until he can’t feel anything anymore.  

“He was with her? The boyfriend?” Carlos mumbles. 

“Huh?” 

“In the nice car. Was she with her boyfriend?” 

“Oh, well not exactly, he was in a submarine I think, I don’t remember it all. They might not have been boyfriend and girlfriend actually, or maybe they were, I don’t know. They definitely loved each other.” 

“Oh,” Carlos says, “that’s nice.” 

“Yeah. What about you, what way would you go?” 

Oscar watches in the mirror as Carlos looks up at him.  

“I had a different answer but I like yours better, I think.” 

“Copycat. I suppose you can come along.” Oscar shifts, rearranging Carlos’s arms around him. 

“Who would drive?” Carlos asks. 

Oscar wants to be the one who wants to drive. He could take that role, let Carlos hold on as their imaginary car gets closer to the point of no return, make the decision to keep the car pointing forward, his foot to the floor. He could take the wheel, if he had to. 

In the mirror he can see Carlos is still looking at him. He meets his own eyes in the reflection, then lets his head turn, lets himself look for real. 

“I don’t want to drive,” Oscar whispers.

“Okay,” Carlos shrugs, easy. “I’ll do it.” 

The emergency strips go dark. Oscar doesn’t know what that means, why they worked when the power went out or why they’ve stopped now. He’s annoyed at how he expects his eyes to adjust, blinking hard when they don’t as if he can force the nonexistent light into his pupils.  

He can still feel. He’s shaking, he thinks. Carlos’s arms tighten around him, unsteady too. Oscar revises his previous answer, overwhelmingly glad of the elevator; they can’t get lost in here, it’s too small. He doesn’t really know the timeline on these things, maybe it’ll take a day, maybe a few seconds. They’re here for now. 

[r-aindr0p]

Any teacher? Maybe Vagas is somekind of orc

I had ideas for a few of the staff already and rambled in tags but I forgot where. Did not forget the ideas though ! I'm using this au to love some of the characters more tbh and Vargas' design is so underwhelming to me in the game :') I feel like I can appreciate him a bit more if I draw him like that idea I had in mind, big bowser like creature from legends of southern France (but centaurified in this case) dw he's never cold he's too strong to be cold yeye Vamp trein was so obvious to me, look at this gentleman, very sophisticated, excellent poise. Ugh these youngsters making bloody messes nowadays, refinement is dead... Ah lucius his beloved batcat he does understand at least... (maybe) Sleep paralysis Crowley, I saw a close up of his eyes once and never recovered it's kinda terrifying so yeah.... He yaps the night away while you can only listen in horror, unable to move. Choosing for Crewel is still hard because he slays in every option... 😔 keeping both outfits for him whatever will be the last decision honestly. If he's a hunter he's independent from the church, self made hunter. If vampire will be so fucking annoying with Trein (assuming they share a mansion alongside Sebek and Riddle.) And finally Cocatrix Sam because that's a cool creature, snake rooster !! He can lay down in a regular bed, unlike Vil. I can see him hanging out w/ Azul from time to time, magic shenanigans and stuff (I was this close to make another water based creature (mélusine, non pas la sorcière rousse))

[coochiekrab]

kuri could theoretically buy an Aubrey Lebeau body pillow for when aubrey leaves for a few weeks

[studioeisa]

KAEEEE congratulations on 1k omg i can't believe i'm just finding out about this now??? i literally thought u had like 10k ndjdnjd your writing is novel worthy i cant believe you aren't running tumblr already 😔

📱 i would pretty pretty please love to hear more about actor jun if u have any thoughts to spare :3 and congrats again!! here's to many more hehe 🎉🫶🏻💓

high praise coming from one of the best writers on caratblr 😳 and i will always give jun to the world's biggest huihui <3 mwaaa!

📱 boyfriend actor!jun x reader (part one, part two). part of my follower milestone celebration. word count: 676.

Jun has started doing his own stunts.

A part of you knows that your fear is misplaced. He’s training with the legendary Jackie Chan, of all people. Your boyfriend is in capable hands.

Still, you can’t help but worry.

It had always been this way even before he dipped his toes into the action genre. Texts of have you eaten? during long shoots. Encouraging Post-It’s snuck into his coat pocket pre-flight. You worry, and you worry, and you worry, and Jun loves you for it. 

He’ll smile at the texts and force himself to eat something small. He’ll keep the notes in his wallet and reread them when he misses the sound of your voice. He lets you fret over him because you give as much as you get, and he would never say ‘no’ to you.

Even if it can be a bit— overbearing, at times. Jun keeps his eye rolls and scoffs to a minimum as you lather his body in efficascent oils, as you slap pain relief patches on his aching joints. 

“Bit of an overkill, no?” he mumbles. His supposed distaste is betrayed by the way he practically preens when you begin to knead at the knots in his shoulders.

You can only sigh at his attempt to be nonchalant. “My boyfriend is an action star,” you say, your teasing tone edged with admiration. It makes Jun want to swoon. “The least I can do is make sure he’s being taken care of.” 

“You can take care of me other ways.” 

“Shut up.” 

“How about you shut me up by—” 

There’s bickering, and teasing, and your fingers dancing along his sides to get him to laugh, to stop flirting. Jun is bone tired and every part of his body hurts, but he’s never tired of you. Nothing ever hurts when it comes to you. 

Jun can be a hypocrite, though. 

You realize this on an unassuming Saturday evening, a rare weekend where the two of you can just stay in. You’re reading a book by the couch while Jun is absentmindedly scrolling through SNS. When you let out a low, unbidden hiss, he’s immediately snapping to attention. 

“Babe?” he calls, his attention leaving the TikTok on his screen. 

“‘S nothing,” you huff. 

Your boyfriend sets aside his phone and leans forward from the other side of the couch, crowding into your space. “Liar,” he says. “What is it?” 

You extend your hand in response. In the low light of your living room, it’s almost invisible, but Jun doesn’t miss it. The raised, reddish skin on your index finger, put there by the corner of your page. 

“It’s just a paper cut,” you’re saying, but Jun isn’t about to have any of that. 

He’s on his feet before you can complain. “Come back here,” you whine. 

His response of “no!” is muffled as he makes a beeline for the bathroom. He emerges moments later with your First Aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed with genuine concern and determination. 

“Junhui,” you say exasperatedly. 

He doesn’t listen. When has he ever? He kneels at your side and begins to rummage through the kit, mumbling about antiseptics and cotton balls. 

You two could have been done much faster if you didn’t resist him here and there. By the end of it, though, you compromise to a Sanrio adhesive bandage despite the absence of any blood at all. 

“Be more careful next time,” Jun says as he snaps the kit close. He poses the words as a joke, but you can hear the hint of worry in his tone. (He gives as much as he gets.) 

You close the distance to kiss him, and his expression smooths out at the familiar affection. “Overkill,” you tease, murmuring the words against his mouth.

Jun worries. You love him for it. 

At your peck, his lips curl up into a smile that you can almost taste. He doesn’t answer— just grabs your arms and pulls you down on top of him. You go down squealing, and then you’re both laughing until your sides hurt.

It’s the good kind of hurt, though. 

[slutneto]

tbh they should have gone full throttle and had eddie staring at the statue of liberty with longing saying 'i'll never forget you buddy' while stroking his pregnant stomach with maroon 5 still playing in the background.