#I tag nobody don't worry

[tzarrz]

to all people who said PART 1 made them laugh - i lov u 💗 this is for u

[calamariumart]

I let my horns grow longer; I observed my skin get redder My soul became a hammer; I started to feel better My hatred turned to pity; my resentment blossomed flowers My bitter taste in candy; my misery was power The truth in me grew brighter- my nature and my nurture

[lulu-draws-stuff]

Posting these doodles for my au where Duck guy stays in the grave for longer and Stain has to pretend to be him (Red told Yellow that he got Duck back but he's lying and it's just Stain)

I've been calling it "he stays in the hole then"

Also featuring half charged Yellow in the corner there

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Fucking uh red string of fate AU for the Black Circle except they're all soulmates so it just looks like

They are tangled the absolute fuck up. You'd think getting rid of one of them would fix it maybe a little bit, but it really wouldn't.

Anyway-

Istg when this writer's block let's me survive and I end up finishing my requests, you best believe I'm gonna start birthing the most mushy and cheesy trope filled fics, lactose intolerant people cOUNT your DAYS. I'm talking soulmate AUs, hanahaki, fucking coffeeshop sure why not- I'm shoving both of my hands right in there, just you wait. That is a threat.

[chiscribbs]

Thoughts on the ROTTMNT 3 Months AU comic that’s become popular recently(for good reason, it’s really good lol)?

My thoughts on it? Well, I agree with you - from what I've seen, I think it's really good!

Admittedly - I'm having a bit of trouble staying caught up with all the various fan comic series that have been popping up in the past few months, there's so many good ones. And as much as I'd love to read and reblog every update of each, it's a lot to stay on top of and I end up missing quite a bit or having to put it off and then play catch-up.

But I think the premise of this one is interesting, I'm really curious to see where it's going! It's nice to see a Mikey-centric work, for once, too. I feel like he gets overlooked a lot, plot-wise, outside of being the family therapist.

And the characterization is on-the-mark, as well - I especially love the expression work! This scene in particular really stood out to me in respect to that. ❤

[jorvikpov]

It is a beautiful day. The sun is soon to return; the pale, cloudless sky is brighter than yesterday, just as it was brighter yesterday than the day before. The trees stand almost unmoving, for the wind is strangely absent even in this seaside town, and the moon rests low but bright on the northwestern horizon. The chill of midwinter nips at your cheeks, reaching even into the furthest, warmest corner of the stables.

It is a beautiful day, and yet you are not quite present.

You have tried for some time to reconnect with reality. There’s little to do other than bide your time, and during your seemingly neverending wait, you have attempted to find your footing again. You cannot. The more you try, the more you are drawn towards the great abyss on the other side of the dam. The more you are drawn to it, the more you think that the dam might have to break—that maybe it is inevitable. The more you think of it as inevitable, the more you find that you don’t mind the idea much. It calls to you. It would be so easy to give in. Today, you feel it pulling you towards it more than ever before, and you know that it is your final calling. Every string tugging on your heart leads there. You still do not know what the abyss holds. It scares you. Still, you must find out.

You weave your hands into your horse’s mane. It’s warm, and it feels like home. If only for a moment, the world feels a little lighter on your shoulders. The walls of the dam surround you, so close now that you needn’t even reach out a hand to feel the cold, hard stone pressing against you, and it is easy to lean towards the abyss. It is easy to lean a little bit further, and then another little bit, and another, until you feel like you can almost see beyond the dam. Nothing happens. The stone presses against every inch of your skin. You breathe a sigh of relief and lean further forward.

Deep in your soul, something cracks.

Hold on, my friend.

Everything is quiet. Neither dark nor light. Neither warm nor cold. Neither real nor unreal. You wonder if this truly was the end of you. If this is what ceasing to be feels like. Perfectly still and peaceful. An eternity in nothingness. Yes—that is it: you have become nothing. You are nothing, and you exist nowhere.

And then, you burst open.

Everything is you. You are the mountains and the valleys. The shining, singing ice of the frozen rivers and the water still flowing deep below. Every horse whose hooves ever thundered over Jorvik’s soft, green grass. Every star in the sky, the sun and moon, and the storm on the horizon. Every root deep in the dirt and rock of the island. You know why you never stopped longing. You know why the ache in your heart never ceased, even when it wasn’t clear what was calling to you. You know at long last why you came to Jorvik. It is you coursing through the roots and it is your magic surging through the island, for it was you who created it long, long ago, back when you and your horse were truly one and the same. You gave yourself up, then, and it gave Jorvik life. You are still giving it life with every breath you take, and now, it breathes life into you in return.

You open your eyes and peer into the abyss. It is full of you—or, rather, it is you. Deep within, there is a vision. Its very essence sets it apart from the world, and suddenly, the idea of your visions disconnecting you from reality feels strange. Foreign, almost. You hardly understand how it could ever happen when the difference between them is this plain, and yet you understand more than ever that they are both real: the distinction between them isn’t that of truth and falsehood, but that between the present moment and a memory. You reach out to the vision, wind it around your fingers until the string tightens, and tug it closer.

(Rain pelts your skin. Something dark is growing; it isn’t too close, nor is it all too far away. Off the coast, evil hangs heavy over the ocean. Your opponents grow stronger and stronger by the day, only waiting for the right moment to strike. They won’t wait for much longer. It is almost time.)

The vision passes, and everything is real. Your small, fragile, human body lies collapsed over your horse’s warm shape, and your breathing is deeper and slower than you ever thought possible. Your fingers are still woven into your horse’s mane. It is still warm. Still feels like coming home. The hay beneath you is warm and dry against your legs, and a few straws prick through the fabric of your trousers, poking and stinging your skin. Someone gallops by outside the stables, snow flurrying around the horse’s thundering hooves. The snow glitters with the pale, blue-purplish colour of the sky for a moment, and when it falls and settles, it joins the rest of the island’s snow in glowing, almost shining, in the gentle light. Stillness lies all over the island, but it feels closer to restlessness than to peace; almost like Jorvik is holding its breath.

You turn your head, feeling something damp where your cheek lay just a moment ago; when you raise a hand to your face, you catch a falling tear on your knuckle. Your horse lifts its head slowly, and in the kind, dark eye facing you, you see the same recognition that you know your horse sees in both of yours.

Though you are nowhere near any primeval root or tree that you know of, the blood running through your veins is buzzing with their warmth. In this moment, you feel untouchable. The midwinter chill nips at your damp cheeks, and yet you do not freeze. Danger and darkness loom closer overhead than ever before, and yet you are not afraid, for you know what is to come.

Jorvik called to you for a reason. Now, you must only listen and follow, and finish what you once started.

[buryam-soul]

Sigh.

[abyssembraced]

Making You the Patron Saint of Something

Patron Saint of Creation

Patron saint of explosions. Patron saint of More. Patron saint of something new entirely. Something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. Was Frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? You're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. You're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Patron Saint of Bones

Patron saint of frameworks. Of structures. Of solidity. Patron saint of things that break. Patron saint of things that are left behind. The bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest is gone? What do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? Who holds the bones?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged by: @distrxst (thank you!)

Tagging: Back at it again with tagging Everyone <3 And again, if you have multiple rp blogs, absolutely feel free to do it for one other than the one I tagged!! @bladesfromthedark , @legalbrats , @tazmilyxfamily , @pri-rp , @hopeful-hugz , @quillheel , @musescfmusic , @interdimensional-ship

[nostalgia-tblr]

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[slug-demon]

look. proship vs anti-ship is another one of those debates that is treated too black and white for my tastes. i do not consider myself proship and a lot of people who choose to describe themselves as proship make content that makes me deeply uncomfortable and conflicts with my personal moral perception of the world. however i am STRONGLY anti-censorship and i feel like a lot of anti-ship people really do not understand the implications of the stuff they seem to want. like i hate to say it but i like ao3 because you can host just about anything there. you never have to worry about 'sensitive' topics being banned unjustly. and like, you can't really ban a topic all together in most situations because it blocks productive portrayal and discussion around real-life topics which is important. i would rather have uncomfortable and weird fanfic on the site i use than have to worry about the website being bought out or changing management or some shit and starting censoring any mention of 'distasteful' or 'inappropriate' topics. sometimes writing contains rape, incest and other uncomfortable topics in a non-glorifying or productive light and censoring those works would be unfair. also the idea of all art needing to have a purpose or a sort of productivity to it comes from capitalistic ideals about art as a product and not as expression, so i also don't think the gross underage incest rape fic should be censored either. if you start censoring, where will the line be drawn? how will you maintain the line? what will you do if societal and/or popular opinion of what should be allowed changes? it's all deeply rooted in capitalism and exclusion and othering/'i'm better than you' ways of thinking. so i'm not proship or anti ship i'm anti censorship and pro minding my damn business when something unrelated to me makes me uncomfortable. ao3 has tagging. block the tags from your searches. it is that easy.

[faethfigueroth]

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[ageless-aislynn]

My absolute favorite NPC in Halo: Combat Evolved is the guy who falls down the stairs on the bridge of the Pillar of Autumn behind Captain Keyes as he's giving Chief his pistol.

A relatable king right there, yep. *nods* 😜😂😉

[asinglesock]

had a Costco $1.50 hot dog and soda for the first time today and it was lifechanging

[ave-aurora]

All of my life, I hated the idea of my name being attached to things.

People calling me felt unnatural, seeing traces of me in places I felt they shouldn't be mad em uncomfortable. I felt as though I was born a ghost; something people should pay no mind to. When I walked through the halls of my elementary school and saw a project of mine on display I had to fight the urge to throw it out. Shame usually wasn't a factor, it just fundamentally wrong that people had the ability to perceive me, that they would think about me when I wasn't there.

I had the same feeling today at work. On the wall hung my name on a piece of paper, surrounded by writing from my coworkers about how they appreciated my work. At first I felt happy. But then that familiar feeling of it being wrong settled in, and now I have thoughts of tearing that paper off the wall so nobody can look at it anymore.

Maybe I really just wanted to see that if I bent to my feeling and ripped my name away, would there be a hole where I had once been, or would everyone else close rank around me as if I had never existed at all?

I'm still not sure what these feelings mean as I grapple with them again. Do I want to stop existing because I feel sad? Or do I feel everyone hates me? I know deep down that people would miss me if I was gone; I can't say with confidence that I think their lives are better with a me sized hole in them. Why do I feel this way? Existence just feels like it shouldn't belong to me, I'm better as a shadow that haunts the back of someone's mind than being a person that people can see. Life feels easier that way. I might just be scared of how they perceive me.

I think they don't perceive me as I really am.

But I don't know how to show them the real me because I've been told so often that the real me is "wrong" in some imperceptible way, some way that can't be fixed. This thing that I have to show to others isn't me.

If they were to miss me they would really be missing the facade that I show them, so maybe I never really was there after all?

I tailor my behavior so close to what people want and expect of me so that when I step back the tapestry we all make up looks neat and cohesive. But once move away, I can't find my thread anymore because it's a colour that I feel doesn't belong to me. Something has taken my place in the world I was weaving and now there's no room left for me.

I hate the way it makes me lash out towards those I care about. There's this desperate need for me to prove that my place in this world exists and is important. As soon as it feels threatened, all I can do is shutdown. I think that I tear away the people that get close to me so that they won't miss me if I disappear? I close myself and my feelings off from everyone around me. I prevent them from reaching me, maybe because I feel they don't understand? Or maybe feeling angry with them feels better than feeling angry with myself.

Or maybe I just have many faces. And it's okay for me to choose when to show one or the other, and there's a place for all of them. Maybe I could learn to accept myself and all of the flavors that I come in instead of shoving myself into a box that's too small for me.

Maybe it'll be okay.

[tododeku-or-bust]

Despite despising the idea of giving this website money: If i get the NSFW Patrochilles art, i am 100% going to have it Blazed.

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

does a little dance (very carefully)!!! staples coming out tomorrow morning!! pls do not be a hurting experience there are so many staples