#ALIVE ofc

[tackykachowch]

Silco SO should've haunted the narrative in s2 I can't stress this enough. Like, we knew Vander, Mylo and Claggor only for 3 episodes, but their presence was felt aaaall throughout s1. And now you're telling me that a PRIMARY ANTAGONIST of s1, a leader of Zaun, Jinx's dad and The person who started the negotiations with Piltover for Zaun's independence only got a couple of mentions?? Which aren't even relevant to the plot or character motivations??? Are you LEGIT FOR REAL kidding me???? I still can't believe this happened chat.

He's literally a part of the main cast. He literally was present in every single episode of s1. And again, given just How Much was tied directly to him his death should've had just. Massive consequences. For almost every single character. And yet.

My honest reaction to this information:

[tanktopdiaz]

literally retired volunteer firefighter bobby nash 4lyfe. i want him in a bathrobe taking in henren popping by unexpectedly one episode then him all buttoned up proper in his Firefighter Best surrounded by very much less enthused than him other volunteer firefighters putting up traffic cones the next. he is going to butt heads with the person in charge of the volunteer firefighters in the same episode buck is going to be nervously going to a pta meeting now that hes officially one of chris' caretakers/stepdad. him overstepping and being told to back off/chill out???? NEED

[pleucas]

you can't kill me

[elipri]

[messrsrarchives]

the thing is, it's not an act of spite for me.

it's not an act of revolution or protest. and maybe for other it is out of spite and that's okay, we all have different mindsets, but i am not alive out of spite.

it's not an act of protest for me to keep living. it isn't an act of revolution for me. it isn't something i do out of spite, hell, i don't have enough spite in me for that. it's not spite that stops me from Doing It.

it's remembering. just,,, just remembering.

it's remembering the first time i introduced myself with "robyn", it's remembering sitting with my friends and changing my pronouns online as we ate lunch - pasta, beans, and vegan cheese from my bag. an absolute staple at my sixth form. just a few clicks of some buttons but it felt massive. big. important.

it's remembering how my school found out my name. i hadn't told them, only my friends knew, and we were sat in english class grouping up for a project and my friend said "robyn's with us". there was a few seconds of confused silence until i raised my hand and then our teacher just nodded and carried on. we got some essays back that same day, she'd crossed out my deadname and corrected it. we never spoke about it in any depth, but i hope she knows how much that meant to me. i hope she knows that my very quiet "thank you" doesn't even begin to cover it.

it's remembering my first gender appointment and the trans woman in the waiting room who sat with me and told me everything to expect. she walked me through absolutely everything as i sat there biting my nails, and she stayed there until my appointment ended to ask me how it went. we haven't seen each other since but we text sometimes. she's coming to see me when i go in for top surgery next month.

it's remembering the way i set my phone up when i applied my first dose of T, how i lent it against a bottle of antibac spray on a shitty bookshelf in my crappy homeless shelter. how i had to cut the first four minutes because i was just standing there holding the box, and how i sent that video to the family i had no contact with and they had nothing but love for Me.

it's remembering my first haircut at a barbers, my first list of names, the first deed poll in my hands and the first empty bottle of T, and every one that followed, my first binder, my first roll of tape.

it's the first time i got introduced as a boyfriend, as a brother, as a son. it's remembering the first time i saw my sister after everything went down and she yelled "ROBYN!!!" from across the street and jumped into her big brother's arms even though she was 12 and farrrr too cool for all that mhm.

it's remembering every nod on the street as i pass another trans person and for those couple of seconds, we See each other and we Get It and we aren't so alone. it's the soft smiles in the women's restroom on a night out and the compliments of my hair or my makeup, how we wash our hands together and get drinks together after. it's every customer that says "cheers lad", every time they throw out a simple "he" like it's something so casual. like it was never even a question. it's the optician leading me to the men's stands and pointing out ones that would look good on me. it's the bouncers at clubs who look at my ID and it's that one specific bouncer who looked between me and the photo and said "well done" before letting me and it's just two words but it's remembering that. well done.

it's hope, really.

because i remember every single first, and second, and third. and i remember how easy it all felt - breathing, after i figured it out and everything fell into place. like i'd been walking through life with one side of my nose blocked and i didn't even know until i signed that deed poll.

and i know it will come back. i know it will. that happiness and that joy and that easeee i first felt. i know that's going to come back. at some point, it will come back.

and if, until then, the nods i share with trans people on the street feel more like matching grimaces? then i'm just glad to have been someone to share it with for a few seconds. a few seconds of recognition as we pass on opposite sides, and maybe a glance back to remind myself that we're never really alone.

i'm not staying alive out of spite. it's gonna come back. i know it will, i'm staying alive to see that. i'm staying alive to see it.

[yayll]

~ a little something about the complicated way you and Dazai acknowledge each other's feelings ~

"We can't let it end like this. We simply can't."

"Dazai, what are you talking about? I'm literally just going on my lunch break."

"... I'll find a way for us to be together! Someday!"

You've been bickering back and forth with him ever since you stepped foot in the agency this morning, or more like he's been performing a whiney one sided narrative that you and your co-workers are more than familiar with. Though it's only ever directed at you. The confusing declarations of love, the lack of personal space, and then there are the days he won't even look or speak to you at all. It was emotional whiplash, but you did your best to drown out the feelings he evoked in you.

Dangerous ones you wouldn't dare indulge in, because if so, you get the feeling your heart would never recover from a man like Dazai. You grab your wallet, and push in your desk chair when he calls out to you once more in a much more serious tone, one that sounds bored.

"If you must leave, will you please pick up something on your way back for me?"

"What is it this time?"

"Bandages, I suppose"

He says that like it's an afterthought, like he couldn't care less for whatever he was asking for.

He's been asking you to go on odd little shopping trips for him for weeks now, and you being the dog you are, say yes every single time. You think about how Dazai loathes dogs. It makes you physically ill the way you feel about him. Whatever it is. You nod, and reply softly.

"Okay. Sure."

"So compliant! If I didn't know any better l'd say you're madly in love with me. Should we run off into the sunset and get married?"

You simply stare at his sardonic smile for a long while, and he stares back. It's like you're sending each other psychic waves, secret messages only you two could decode. Only you two could fathom. He stares into you with that piercing gaze of his, the one that might as well call you an idiot for ever thinking there's a real person behind his heavenly face. His eyes are pretty, they make yours feel dull in comparison. After a while, a faint half smile creeps onto your lips, trying to feign the same indifference as his. You fail, obviously.

"Mm, sounds too hopeful, even for you."

"Yikes! Right you are. Commitment. How awful.... No one wants that kind of trouble."

Dazai states cruelly, leaning back into his chair at his desk, arms crossed. He has to bite down to keep from smiling and giggling like a fool, as this is exactly what he wishes would happen.

His heart flutters for a brief moment at the visual of such a fantasy, such privilege to have you forever. He knows how badly you secretly want this too, but he doesn't plan on putting you out of your misery just yet. Shame on you to think of him as a real person who's allowed to pursue the things he wants! He continues when he sees you've gone completely silent, standing with your keys in your hand like a mannequin.

"Besides, I'm sure you've met plenty of other guys that are far more suitable for you. I mean, look at me, I used to be a criminal." He winks at you, hinting at his sketchy past. He's such a fantastic performer when he's at his worst.

"... And no one wants that kind of trouble, right?" You echo his past words back to him, once again failing to match his rejection.

"Oh you wretched little creature. Right again!"

You can't take much of this any longer, smiling politely as you simply turn around, and walk out of the agency. Your eyes sting.

Dazai just sits there, staring at the door, counting the seconds until you're back. He rests his chin on his palm, unblinking. He taps his fingers on the desk, and lets out a deep sigh. It's all he does, all he looks forward to every single day you leave.

You finally come back nearly an hour later, carrying a small bag and leftovers from your lunch. He lights up like the moon during the clearest night sky, and stands up immediately. His demeanor completely changes as he flashes you a delighted grin, rushing to you.

"You're back~"

"Yeah, here are your bandages."

"My what?"

"The bandages you asked for..?"

His eyes widen for a moment, and then he chuckles, shaking his head. He flicks his own forehead.

"Of course! Thank you. Now, may I have the receipt as well?"

He looks excited, his open palm cupped in front of you, as if you were giving him a treat. You raise a brow and shrug, handing him the crumpled piece of paper. You don't even question it anymore. He frowns. You think he looks like a disgruntled little kid.

"Ugh. You wrinkled it."

"What? Why does it matter?"

"Well I obviously wanted to keep it, silly goose."

You try to make sense of what he could possibly mean, and you decide it's not worth getting into. You can't afford the heartache nor the brain cells.

"That's the weirdest thing you've ever asked me."

"Not true. I've never asked you for a kiss~"

You almost drop to the floor with the way his eyes darken, despite his tone being the complete opposite. You stare at him yet again for what feels like ages, your heart set ablaze, with Dazai being the pyromaniac who won't let your embers die out of his own amusement. Your voice comes out low, meek.

"Well I'm clearly not the person you dream of, so no."

You could swear his awful smirk falls off just a tiny bit, but any evidence of that is gone in a blink of an eye. His voice comes out soft and laced with a hint of honeyed bitterness.

"And if you weren't, l'd dream of you anyway."

He mutters under his breath as he looks out the window, as if you weren't supposed to hear that. the sun is slowly setting and the moon will illuminate soon after. He wishes he could see what you look like at night.

You roll your eyes because if you don't, you'll bury your face in his chest and sob. Oh, he's the worst. You put on your best cynical voice followed by a scoff.

"That's lovely, Dazai."

"You look lovely." He states simply, still looking at the way the moon ghosts in the sky.

"... Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." He murmurs, solemnly. In that moment, you don't catch it, but he's telling you he loves you too.

And just like that, you slowly walk past him and sit at your desk. You might have a stroke, but you still have reports to finish.

Dazai quietly does the same, sitting down and opening a drawer, and then a secret compartment within it. He glances at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he flashes you an exaggerated smile when you catch him looking, then turns his attention back down, the smile dropping.

He places the wrinkled receipt into a larger stack of countless other receipts, all from past errands you've run for him lately. He smoothes it carefully, for it is a priceless sentiment amongst his collection of the things you so graciously give him. It's pathetic, but it's like holding your hand. It's like kissing you. It's like true love.

[vmecha]

reflective doodles in cut

i literally listened to that silly boombox song from lethal company for 3 hours straight when making that memory painting

[iamhereinthebg]

SPOILERS TBHK CHAPTER 125

I really like the random set ups in the manga for Mirai and what she is inspired from.

The clock keepers reminded us of Pinocchio before and now Cinderella, AidaIro took random vibes from European tales and I am all for it.

And Kako, being born from the grief and guilt of the clock maker, creating little things for the replacement of the niece is so cool too.

She had three mices as pets and Kako created three automatons for Mirai. Which ended up being one of the things he retrieves from Nene right away to give them back to Mirai. He is so gentle with her everytime he holds her too. She also gains a little crown showing how much this clock maker ended up loving her as his own daughter. And of course Akane who compared her before to a mouse because he has no respect.

[trianglesand]

Marble hornets x Slendermansion AU but instead of Hoodie and Masky being proxies they also live in a small cabin in the same woods and are constantly trying to sabotage the creeps plans. Hoodie learns Jeff is supposed to kill some random family and follows him there to purposely set the home security system off and Masky jumps out of the closet and tackles Jeff. They all run away to their own homes afterwards when the cops are called. The Operator/Slenderman could put a stop to it if he so pleased, but finds the shenanigans amusing.

[socialiseisnotinmyname]

(Season 6 spoiler Felix's design included and chrysalis)

My Babbyyyss( > ♡ < )

[mohntilyet]

they hated illario because he was a d1 yapper who was bad at assassinating people and was so annoyingly drunk and grief stricken at his cousin’s wake that viago had to drug him to shut him up (so what if he was also the guy who set his cousin up to die/disappear) . and also for working with the venatori and selling out the antivan crows i guess.

[blakescorneroftheunknown]

Once again I return to present the love of my life my pride and joy

Tap / click for better quality

[jesncin]

does Goldie approve of John smoking?

your Goldie drawing comic made me think of it. does John feel closer to him when he smokes because of what it's doing to his health (i.e. bringing him closer to death)? just curious about what you think

[I know you're talking about ghost baby Goldie but I thought showing grownup Goldie's opinion would be funny]

As a ghost baby, Goldie doesn't really understand what John's doing when he's smoking or that it directly deteriorates John's health. I imagine during the cancer arc that Goldie is under the belief John caught a bad illness or was getting old.

As for John, he smokes as an addict since he was a teen with pretty blatant disregard for his health. While he feels guilty about not being able to be "with" Goldie in death, John does want to live more than anything. Goldie wants that for him too, even if that just makes John feel worse.

[sunlight-shunlight]

my personal headcanon is that after flemythal uses the well's power on my lavellan for the first time, it sort of forcibly readjusts her accent when speaking elvhen, from "reasonably fluent modern dalish" to "crisply upper-class ancient arlathan". and she doesn't actually notice this at the time, bc by the time it happens, she's already Experienced Crestwood, and doesn't speak elvhen often otherwise.

but the next time she talks to solas and drops in a word or phrase in (stilted and unhappy) conversation, he very much does notice the shift, and feels a sense of palpable horror that she's already been a bit changed.

[drathe]

Father Cole O’Donnelly, priest from Boston and now agent of Templar Order (kind of?).

We’re playing Masks of Nyarlathotep and Cole learned Bless spell from the pope, killed one of Nyarlathotep’s masks and survived weird trials of the templar order.

[ninyard]

because my brain is in a filmmaking mood rn here’s some cinematography inspiration that i could potentially include in a pitch for a hypothetical aftg tv show