#OOC : Sooooo..

[allimili]

can you draw shadow milk showing support for y/n for exam days pls ☹️🤍 we just need some fluff fr

extra

[whos-the-seme]

"You promised!" Shang Qinghua, despite his efforts, couldn't stop the gasping sobs. "You said you wouldn't leave me behind again! And then you died then and you're dying now and you promised!"

Shen Yuan reached for the other, fighting through the darkness and blurriness encroaching his vision. He managed to grasp his best friend's cheek, weak fingers brushing away the falling tears. "I'm sorry--"

"No! You don't get to be sorry," Shang Qinghua tried to sneer but his face crumpled instead. He didn't shake off Shen Yuan's hand. "This is the second time you're leaving. That's all you know how to do, isn't it? All you do is run away!"

"Qinghua--" Shen Yuan tried to say, but began to cough, hand falling away. The pain was unbearable and it was making it difficult to take in air. Shang Qinghua immediately reached out to steady him as Shen Yuan hacked out his lungs. In between each new flare of pain that swam along with every cough, Shen Yuan could make out the mumbles of his best friend.

"I didn't mean it, please, I didn't mean it, please not now, I didn't mean to say that, I'm sorry, please, please..."

This was familiar. The pain, the loss of breath, even his best friend beside him, keeping him upright. All that was missing was the hospital bed and the frantic beeping of machines. No nurses coming to save his ass now in this forest.

Shen Yuan briefly lost consciousness and when he came back to himself, vision clearing a little, he found Shang Qinghua holding his wrist, pouring more qi into him. As if they hadn't already discovered that qi transfers didn't work when the thing taking all of his was the poison of a Soul-Sucking Bewildered-beest. Shang Qinghua could've tried to get him back to the sect but Shen Qingqiu would have been long drained of qi and, most importantly, dead by then. He couldn't fly and transfer qi at the same time.

It only prolonged the inevitable.

"S-stop," he said, weakly pushing at Shang Qinghua's hand. The other ignored him. "You're gonna d-drain yourself. And then you won't be able to get back at all."

"I don't care," Shang Qinghua said. Shen Yuan wondered how long he had lost consciousness for, as the tear tracks on Shang Qinghua's face were now mostly dry. "You promised."

"I know," Shen Yuan didn't apologize again. "But you know it's not gonna work. And I'd rather you return, at least." He could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

Shang Qinghua let go of him only to throw up his hands in anger. Fresh tears were starting to spill down his cheeks again. "So what? I just leave you here to die without even trying?" He balled up his fists. "Typical. You always think that your actions won't affect other people."

Shen Yuan got the sense that Shang Qinghua was referring to something else, but his mind was starting to get too muddy to think of what. Breathing was getting a little harder. A lot harder.

"Qinghua. A-Hua, please listen to me. C-could you come kneel down next to me? Right here." He waited until Shang Qinghua lowered himself a bit, still frowning, before gently placing his forehead against the other peak lord's. "Listen to me, okay? I know I broke my promise again. But you've found me before and I trust you'll find me again." He said between gasps of air.

"A-Yuan--"

"We've met again and again... and we'll keep meeting. I k-know it." Gasp. Cough. "Beyond all ideas of... right and wrong, there's a field." Vision dimming. Grasp slackening. "I'll be... waiting for you... there."

"A-Yuan?"

"..."

"A-Yuan!?"

"..."

A wail broke through the serenity of the forest.

[orenjijuice5999]

something I find very interesting about Haymitch and Effies relationship post-sotr is the fallout they most likely had sometime post-50th and pre-74th games.

We know that in final chapter before the epilogue that on Haymitch’s victory tour Effie was trying to keep him sober and what not. So I imagined that what made Effie, I don’t wanna say hate but like dislike Haymitch, is that she tried to help him in her own Captiol way. But fail because Haymitch doesn’t want help, he just wants his family and Lenore Dove back.

And as we know from the original Hunger Games Trilogy, Haymitch is a very violent, traumatized, anger drunk. So im imagining Haymitch yelling and even almost getting physically violent with Effie. And that being like her final straw with Haymitch. Making a point that she wishes to get moved to a better district.

[our-clangen]

cats that arent born and dont exist yet

[bigidiotenergytm]

Can I ask you a question? What do you use to draw because your art is just delicious (sorry if I’m bothering you with all my questions😅)

i use procreate on an ipad with an apple pencil!

like i can't stress enough— FUCK apple. BUT ive used a lot of other tablets (both handheld and laptop tablets like wacom) and these things specifically have really made drawing and coloring such a breeze for me if you ever invest go straight to ebay, definitely buy it second hand! i used ebay to get mine lol

[hrizantemy]

Nesta didn’t know how it had come to this.

She sat on the couch, the soft fabric beneath her pressing into her legs as she looked across at Taryn. The other woman held a glass of wine, swirling it slowly in her hand, the deep red liquid catching the light as she took a sip. This was Taryn’s third glass, and Nesta couldn’t blame her. The tension in the air was thick, a strange mixture of unfamiliarity and unspoken emotions.

Nesta herself hadn’t touched her own glass yet, even though she had desperately wanted to. She had thought about downing the whole thing, maybe even more, letting the burn of alcohol blur everything around her, but she refrained. She needed clarity, not numbness, and that was a rare moment of resolve that surprised even her. Besides, it wasn’t just Feyre and Elain here, like she had thought it would be. No, the House of Wind had become a gathering place for everyone—Rhysand and Cassian, Azriel and Amren, even Morrigan had shown up. They were all here.

Everyone.

Morrigan had been watching Taryn for a while now, her gaze sharp, though she hadn’t made it obvious that she was studying her. It wasn’t hard to see, though. Taryn was trying her best to ignore it, focusing instead on the empty glass in her hand as if she was willing herself to appear indifferent. Morrigan’s attention had shifted toward her a few minutes ago, a faint amusement playing in her eyes as she observed the other woman, who was clearly trying not to acknowledge the tension in the air.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, Morrigan broke it with a smirk, her tone cutting through the room as she casually remarked, “That’s a lot of wine for one night.”

Taryn’s gaze flickered up to meet hers, eyebrow arching in challenge as she set her glass down carefully on the table. “And you’ve finished your own bottle, haven’t you?” she shot back, her voice calm but laced with a quiet, teasing edge.

Morrigan’s smirk deepened, but she didn’t deny it. She glanced down at the empty bottle beside her, her lips quirking. “Maybe. But I’m not the one acting like I need it to survive this night.”

Taryn’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch, folding her arms. “I do need it to survive tonight,” she muttered, glancing away as she adjusted her position, trying to shake off the discomfort of the situation.

Morrigan’s dislike for Taryn wasn’t subtle. It was clear in every sharp look she threw her way, in the way her lips would curl into a slight sneer whenever Taryn spoke or moved. It wasn’t an open confrontation, but it didn’t need to be. Morrigan was always good at using her presence, her gaze, to make it known she wasn’t interested in the woman sitting across from her. Taryn, for her part, didn’t try to hide her own disdain. She didn’t offer a smile, never attempted to make small talk, and returned Morrigan’s icy stares with her own.

It was a silent exchange—neither woman willing to break the tension, both of them perfectly content to keep the distance. Nesta had been anticipating this to some extent, but the reality of it was still difficult to swallow. It was always going to be like this, she thought, as she watched Morrigan give Taryn a pointed look. She had hoped it wouldn’t be, that maybe something would shift between them, but deep down, she had known that it was futile. Morrigan had never been one to hide her feelings, and Taryn—well, Taryn was never one to make peace when she didn’t feel it was deserved.

She could already feel the tension crawling up her spine, the uncomfortable air settling in the space between them. And Feyre. Feyre, who had been glancing at her apologetically for the last few minutes, offering small, fleeting glances as if to say she was sorry for the situation they found themselves in. Nesta knew it was likely last minute, that Feyre hadn’t had a say in the gathering, and that Rhysand had probably insisted on the whole thing—insisted that it be a family matter, that it be everyone.

Rhysand didn’t let Feyre have many choices of her own when it came to family dynamics, and Nesta had learned that firsthand. Feyre couldn’t change things, not really. Not with Rhysand watching every move, every word.

Feyre’s voice broke the silence that had settled uncomfortably over the group, her gaze flickering between Nesta and Elain. She seemed to sense the tension in the room, the unsaid words and the quiet animosity between Morrigan and Taryn. With a soft smile, she turned to Elain, her tone light but purposeful. “Didn’t you say you had some treats in the oven?” she asked, her voice almost like a gentle nudge.

Elain blinked, a slight frown pulling at her brow as she glanced at Feyre. “Oh, yes,” she said quickly, standing from her seat. “I’ll check on them.”

But before she could make it to the kitchen, Feyre’s voice came again, this time directed at Nesta. “Why don’t you go with her?” Feyre asked, her voice casual but with an undertone that suggested she was trying to steer Nesta away from the growing tension in the living room.

Nesta hesitated, her eyes flicking between Feyre and the others. Elain looked like she might protest, but Nesta’s gaze met hers first, and there was a subtle shift—something unspoken passing between them. After a moment, Nesta sighed, the weight of the evening pressing down on her. “Sure,” she said quietly, pushing herself to her feet.

She didn’t wait for Elain to reply. She stood, her movements slow but purposeful as she made her way toward the kitchen. The sound of Elain’s quick footsteps behind her grew louder as she caught up, the younger woman’s voice soft but insistent. “Nesta, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Nesta interrupted softly, her voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. As Elain trotted to check on the treats, Nesta leaned against the counter, feeling the weight of the night lift just a little, knowing that for a moment at least, the space would be their own.

Nesta’s voice broke the silence between them as Elain pulled the tray of cookies from the oven, the warmth filling the kitchen with the scent of baked sugar and chocolate. She couldn’t help but smirk, the tension from the living room lingering in the air. “Feyre wants us to reconcile, doesn’t she?” Nesta said, her words more statement than question, her eyes meeting Elain’s with a knowing look.

Elain hesitated for a moment, the oven mitts she was wearing creasing slightly as she set the tray down on the counter. “What’s there to reconcile?” she asked quietly, her tone defensive but still soft, like she was trying to avoid the heavier conversation that was clearly building.

Nesta couldn’t help the dry chuckle that slipped from her lips. “Elain,” she said with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms, “you’ve always been a horrible liar.” Her voice wasn’t harsh, but it carried an edge that only Elain would know to recognize.

Elain’s cheeks flushed a pale pink, the corners of her mouth pulling into a tight, almost guilty smile. She avoided Nesta’s gaze as she began carefully placing the cookies onto a cooling rack. “I’m not lying,” Elain insisted, her voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

Nesta tilted her head, leaning a little closer. “You don’t have to lie to me, Elain,” she said softly.

Elain’s shoulders stiffened, and with a quick, almost reflexive motion, she turned her back to Nesta, as though trying to distance herself from the conversation. She let out a breath, her voice barely a whisper but thick with emotion. “You’re better off, Nesta. You have Taryn. You have your own family now, and it’s fine. You don’t need us anymore.”

The words cut through the air like a knife, sharper than any of the tension that had been building between them. Elain’s hands gripped the countertop, her knuckles turning white as she tried to steady herself. It was as though, in her mind, she had already accepted a truth that wasn’t hers to claim.

Nesta let out a sharp, humorless scoff, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. “Is this really about that? About me getting better?” Her voice was dripping with frustration, each word cutting deeper than the last. “Is that what you’re mad about, Elain? That I’ve found something that works for me?”

Elain flinched slightly, her shoulders sagging as she turned away to face the counter. But Nesta wasn’t finished, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

“You know what? I’ll give you that, I pushed you away. I did,” Nesta continued, her voice rising slightly. “But it’s not like you tried to reach out either. Not really. Not in a way that mattered. I invited you, Elain. Multiple times. Just the two of us, to spend time together, to talk. But every time I asked, every damn time, you turned me down. And yet, here you are, acting like it’s all my fault.”

Elain remained silent, her hands gripping the counter so tightly her knuckles were white. Nesta could feel the shift in the room, the thick tension between them suddenly feeling unbearable. Elain didn’t say anything, but Nesta saw it in her eyes—the guilt, the shame.

“You can’t expect someone to always chase after you when they’ve been turned away over and over again,” Nesta added, her voice quieter now, but still firm. “You pushed me away, too, Elain. You made it seem like I didn’t belong, like I was too much, and you never even gave me a chance to show you I was trying. So don’t stand there and act like I’m the only one who’s been at fault here.”

The silence stretched out, heavy and thick with everything that had been unsaid for so long. Elain didn’t respond. Instead, she just stood there, her back to Nesta, as if she couldn’t face her anymore. And Nesta, despite the sting of anger still burning in her chest, felt a pang of something else—a deep, aching sadness that perhaps things between them could never truly go back to how they were.

Elain’s voice was small, almost trembling, as she spoke. “I just—I didn’t want to watch you destroy yourself. I didn’t want to see you… drinking and doing those things. It wasn’t you, Nesta.”

Nesta’s eyes flashed, her anger bubbling up again. “Fucking,” she spat, the word leaving her mouth sharper than she intended. “Is that what you meant? You didn’t want to watch me fuck up, is that it?”

Elain’s back stiffened at the harshness of Nesta’s words, but she didn’t turn around. “That’s not what I meant—”

“So what?” Nesta interrupted, her voice thick with frustration. “What does it matter? I’m not your project to fix, Elain. You can’t stand there and judge me for how I’ve been coping, for how I’ve been dealing with everything, just because it’s not the way you would do it.”

Elain’s silence was all the answer Nesta needed. But the words were already out, and they were a release, a way for Nesta to stop pretending, to stop letting everyone—including Elain—think they knew what was best for her.

Nesta’s voice was low, but there was an undeniable bitterness in her words. “Do you think I liked watching you sit there, doing nothing? You think I liked being the one who had to worry about you, wondering if you’d throw yourself out the window or stumble down the nearest flight of stairs? Watching you just… shut down, while I felt like I was drowning in my own mess? I didn’t like it, Elain.”

She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. “I didn’t hold it against you—not really. I understood. But don’t sit here and act like you were perfect, like you were handling it all better than me. You didn’t want to face it. You didn’t want to help, and I couldn’t make you. But that doesn’t mean you get to look down on me now, like you’re the only one who’s been hurting or struggling.”

Nesta’s fists clenched at her sides, her chest rising and falling with each sharp breath she took. “You think your way of handling things was any less harmful? To yourself? To me? To everyone around you?” Her voice was tight, but she didn’t care. “You think it was easier for me to watch you shut everyone out, to watch you retreat into your perfect little world where everything could just be fine if you ignored it long enough? Maybe it was easier for you, but it wasn’t easier for me, Elain. And you didn’t get to judge me for how I handled mine. Just like I didn’t get to judge you for how you handled yours.”

Elain’s eyes widened in surprise, her body stiffening as if Nesta’s words had hit a nerve. For a fleeting moment, she looked as though she might turn on her heel and run straight to Feyre, or their mother, like she was about to retreat into the comfort of tattling. But she didn’t. Instead, she froze, her shoulders tense, the words that followed uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if she should even speak.

“Well, I wasn’t doing it on their coin,” Elain said, her voice tight, though her words seemed to stumble over themselves. Her gaze darted to the floor as if trying to avoid the weight of the confrontation, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—defensiveness, perhaps, but also guilt.

Nesta’s lips curled into a grin, a sharp edge to her expression as she watched Elain squirm under the weight of her own words. “Did pretty little Elain grow some teeth to finally bite?” she taunted, her voice low, but biting. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing with an amusement that was anything but kind. “Finally, the docile dog barks.”

The words cut through the air, and Nesta could see Elain flinch, a flush creeping across her face as if she had been struck.

Tag List: @litnerdwrites @viajandopelomar

[askchilchuck]

Mister chilchuck can you PLEASE DILF it up?

I still don’t know what you mean by that. First you tell me I AM one, and now I have to try? Please make it stop.

[qapsiel]

// just a little heads-up that I'm at the Purgatory Convention this weekend. I might scream/liveblog the thing bc I'll need to let the excitement out 😅 I'll tag everything with #Purcon for easy blacklisting

[choco-docs]

“You guys are doing actual work, right? You better, keeps more of the patients off me. I’m sick of treating sick little kids, I may be able to help little Timmy get over the flu, but curing stupidity is sadly not something humanity can do. We really should start creating a cure for that, would save me the migraine. Anything you guys have to say that can get me out of clinic duty? Make sure it’s interesting” @callme-drhouse

Finn: Whyyyyy it if isnt Dr. House. I was expecting to hear from you! You see I have begun my master plan to help pacify patients with the power of my "glove buddies" (patent pending). We are already experiencing success with peds patients but i see no reason why i cant distract a grown man with a blown up glove. While we arent profitable yet i expect this market to expand, now i am willing to negotiate a 30% ownership if-

Eden: -Hey! This was my idea! (you're such a dork).

Pebble: STOP WASTING MY GLOVES

[francisbonnefoyforreal]

🏥

.... Guess who just got HIT BY A FUCKING BUS. I am. At the hospital rn.

[lunaetis]

[ serious era over, back to meme. dash icon changed HJKLHKHJLK ]

[mrlopee]

I dont get why people want sebastian so bad p.ai.nter is RIGHT THERE

"THE COMPUTER?!"

{Mr. Lopee looks shocked}

"How are you gonna to date that?!"

[bigidiotenergytm]

I FINISHED IT- 4 HOURS AND 2 AP TESTS LATER I FINISHED IT

(I was too lazy to do the water design on his skirt ignore that)

CANDY IS THAT TOP SURGERY SCARS I SEE IM GOING FERAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mayonakako]

what if i posted a one-liner call. what then.

[thrpr0phetuseek]

Tiresias, getting shivers up their spine every time a part of the prophecy is completed:

[askchilchuck]

hey tims. break it down for us

What are you talking about? Break what down?