#everyone I voted for won lol

[little-pup-pip]

Gardening!!

[camberdraws]

Painting a notoriously likeable pokemon!

[the-dragon-girl-27]

Flocking doodles

Maiasaura watching over her hatchlings

Sigilmassasaurus fighting for territory

Boreaspis swimmin round

Gigantopithecus yeeting another Gigantopithecus to assert dominance

[poptartmochi]

favorite thing about act I Agustín is that he's just some guy. he's just a rando with a walking staff 😭 who made him the party leader!!!

[sparrowmoth]

WIP Teaser: Untitled Wylan whump

I couldn't resist jumping into the deep end for this fandom, so here's an excerpt of the Wylan whump (with Wesper hurt/comfort endgame ofc ofc) I'm working on at the moment. The OC villain of this fic is a heartrender turned serial killer with a penchant for turning Barrel rats into living marionettes; that is, until a certain Jan Van Eck offers her patronage and points to Wylan as the ideal next muse for her work.

CW (for below): Non-graphic torture, brief asphyxiation, child abuse

“You are not ready for performance, mein kleiner puppenjunge.” She crossed two fingers, curled the rest, and took a step forward. Wylan’s hands flew to his throat as he whirled around to face her, then slumped back against the door—the door marked STAGE in faded white. Black edged around his vision. Curtains closing— “Soon,” the woman crooned above him. “Soon, you shine…” Like the lamps hung low from the ceiling on sturdy chains, their flames as bright as daylight, reflecting off the scalpels. This was a dream he had often, recurring through his childhood. He was laid flat on a table, stretched out like a frog with the white coats stood around him. His father, in the corner, was begging them to fix him. And they tried, with their scalpels, carving word after word into his naked flesh. He tried to scream, but they stuffed paper in his mouth, deep down his throat—tearing page after page from endless books— He couldn’t breathe.

If you're interested in reading the fic when it drops, you can keep an eye out for it here on Tumblr or via my AO3. This is my first attempt at writing for SAB, so it's a bit slow going as I feel out the characters, but I'm really excited for it! (I was up until 3 AM writing this last night lol) <3

[tittyblade]

Oh ya I’ve heard Türkiye is having some elections today, how’s that going? :D

it’s on sunday!!! ive spent the entirety of this morning crying over election coverage LOL. this is the single most important event of my life. yk how every politician says the next election is the most important one so everyone should go out n vote? thats the situation here but quite literally.

on one hand you have islamic extremists (erdoğan. one of the “parties” that support him is literally formed from an extremist cult. the only reason they haven’t all been put on trial is bc erdoğan supports them and he’s only got the extremists’ support left. and also bc years back he declared a nationwide state of emergency and quickly passed multiple laws in succession where. he’s no longer the prime minister but “the sole leader” of turkey. yeah)

and on the opposition there’s a coalition of 6 parties, literally all the major left parties with some nationalists, with their joint candidate kılıçdaroğlu. CHP (the main opposition party) has been center left lately, but its the actual fuckin party that first turned turkey into a republic from a sultanate. its huge. compared to US politics the average left wing party is actually pretty fuckin left here LOL. and they havent won the govt since 1950s (last peaceful n prospering decades of turkey) AND. THEY ACTUALLY STAND A CHANCE. all the polls point towards kılıçdaroğlu winning the elections

and you have no idea how bad it’s been here for the last few years. god. there’s so many shit thats wrong in the country because of the current government. civillians getting arrested for tweets criticizing erdogan, not being able to afford anything, being unable to pay your rent, erdogan (WITH HIS SINGULAR DECISION) withdrawing from the istanbul convention, the femicides being the highest it has ever been since the entire history of the turkey, murdered religious minorities and murdered journalists, tens of thousands of people left alone to die after the earthquakes back in february. its pretty fucking scary living here unless you’re a cishet sunni muslim man.

everyone i know that can afford it has been fleeing the country. sometimes it feels like thats the only option you have unless you want to get killed as a 20 something year old trying to make ends meet. i’m only 20 yo myself and the past 8 years has brought me and everyone under 30 to such a place where the only thing we feel about the future is hopelessness. i feel like ive aged 10 years in the last year alone and i bet anyone thats lived under a similar govt can relate. my countrys politics alone has been robbing me of my youth and my will to live.

AND. DESPITE ALL OF THAT. i have hope for the very first time. i have hope for a better future now bc of the opposition candidate and i have faith in him to deliver his promises. everything thats happened since january he’s been dealing with with grace, and him + mayors from his party actually do shit.

so yeah. the entire course of turkey is gonna change this sunday. if we were to lose this would be the last democratic elections held (the last elections held, period) before erdoğan fully converted the country into an autocracy, and when kılıçdaroğlu wins its gonna become a socialist state, as socialist as it’s ever been since the 1950s. pretty fuckin big stakes

[legovasavouchi]

Dent & Bix, these were gonna be panels in a silly lil comic but I never quite finishes its

[maddy-ferguson]

i love that the last people heard the leftist coalition won the french legislative elections so they think we have a leftist government now lol

[ashi-cookie]

not to suddenly talk about seven knights but the player voting result for eileen's costume contest showed that those bitches did not truly appreciate her like i do

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

So Cecil won the Sexyman Rematch and honestly, isn’t that just the essence of modern tumblr?

Like when the original match was on Twitter, Sans won. And like, sure that makes sense and he wasn’t a BAD pick and I don’t think people still voting for him are wrong, but it’s also just the obvious “lol isn’t tumblr so weird?” pick that you’d EXPECT a bunch of ex-tumblr users on Twitter to choose. Like, haha we picked the weird skeleton guy as our sex symbol, wasn’t tumblr a wacky time?

Because the users who fled to Twitter did so because they realized tumblr was a cringey hellsite and wanted nothing to do with it. They were embarrassed by their tumblr phase, and they still are.

But the tumblr users still here are the ones who decided that, yeah, we’re cringe as hell, who gives a shit? And because of that, the current vibe on tumblr is just, overall, an unabashedly honest revelry in our weirder interests. Like, yeah, we’re still a mess and a hellsite and there’s toxic shit, but it’s the internet, what do you expect? The tumblr community is able to look fondly on the cringe of the past and move on to the sincerity of the future, and that’s part of why we picked Cecil.

Because yeah, it’s still weird and So Tumblr that a guy with no physical appearance won the sexy tournament, but if you look at the people celebrating Cecil’s win, that aren’t focusing on that aspect so much. They’re celebrating everyone’s favorite canonically gay uncle who dresses like a loser and loves his husband. Cecil is cringe, but we love him.

This isn’t ex-tumblr picking the wackiest choice, it’s current tumblr looking back on that cringey era and finding the joy in it, and I think that THAT is just so tumblr

[little-pup-pip]

Colorful Christmas lights!!

[laddess-865]

Drawing the Touden Siblings won (I voted for wips bc I knew I needed to do them lol)

Thank you to everyone who voted. I haven’t started drawing yet bc drawing Laios really winded me lol.

But in the meantime, have the height charts of both chimera Falin and my design of chimera Laios. I wanted to make Laios look substantially bigger than his sister as I’m basing him off of a rooster. Roosters (and even some male lizards) are usually a lot bigger than their female counterparts, so I really wanted to highlight that.

[claypigeonpottery]

thanks everyone for all the bunny votes and suggestions! I ended up doing a bit of everything (and speed drying my bunnies because mania)

the moon and starry sky bunnies won the poll

black with skeletons was 2nd (plus a sad bunny just because)

a couple people suggested Watership Down El-Ahrairah bunnies

I got a suggestion for trans bunnies (the grey will lighten to white once the clay is dry)

for black and tan bunnies

for a white bunny with blue eyes and a pink bunny

and delft bunnies! these ones were time consuming lol

and some delft pigeons too! these turned out nicer than the bunnies, more space to work

[alastair-1205]

Yall I just got back from the Orlando concert and THEY PLAYED FUCKING SLOWTOWN- But the funny part is that someone had a sign asking Tyler to play it (as one does) and he gets through like 2 measures of Oldies Station, stops, and then goes like "Alright wait let's vote on this actually, do you want me to play Slowtown or Oldies Station?"

Then he actually had the crowd vote (I think Slowtown would have won lol), said something like "it's kinda just like the pit vs everyone else" and then just says "whatever we'll do both." AND THEN THEY DID BOTH AND IDK WHY BUT IM VERY HAPPY

[solangeloficawards]

solangelo fic awards 2024 masterpost

happy february! thanks to everyone who submitted this year! we totaled around 139 submissions this year which is always really cool :) it also means unfortunately nominations have to be split up by category, but y'all can always use our handy fic masterdoc!!

click here to vote!

fic masterdoc!

fic nominations by category!:

best angst

best au

best canon complaint

best fluff

best oneshot

best wip

best misc

best series

and our author of the year nominations are as follows!

rosyredlipstick (ao3) (tumblr)

ikeasharksss (ao3) (tumblr)

thelordofshrimp (ao3) (tumblr)

gatesofember (ao3) (tumblr)

pey119 (ao3) (tumblr)

solisaureus (ao3) (tumblr)

voting guidelines:

voting will close on february 13th so that the winners post can be released on the 14th for valentines day! (for realsies this time i promise it doesnt take me as long as nominations lol)

fics are listed in alphabetical order! if your work didnt make it in, there is most likely a reason! you are welcome to message me about it if you wish though and i can let you know why

if your fic was nominated and counted but is missing on one of the docs, whether its here or the poll or the masterlist, please let me know!! i have missed things and had no idea, its ok! please dont be afraid to let me know i've made a mistake!

same goes for if something shows up twice, fic has already won, links are broken, etc etc!

if one of your works has been submitted, you can promote/mention this but a reminder that there's no prize outside of satisfaction, so dont feel too bad if you didn't win! theres always more years!

you aren’t required to vote if you have been nominated, though it is heavily recommended

you also aren’t required to vote in all categories anymore due to popular request, although we heavily advise that you do in order to keep voter count even

if you have been nominated, you are allowed to vote for yourself. just please also be considerate to others and vote for each category!

the google poll will ask for you to sign in just to ensure that you are only voting once. no emails are being collected! that being said, if you are more comfortable voting through ask/message/etc, feel free!

there is a few questions at the end of the poll, although none of them are required so you’re welcome to skip them if you’d like!

this is all just friendly competition, so everyone have fun! be sure to show the writers some love!!! <3

[nickfowlerrr]

know my name - 4

series masterlist

pairing: soft!dark bucky barnes x single mom!reader

warnings: 18+ only. angst. violence. winter soldier. allusion to murder. lmk if i’m missing something that should be included.

words: 3.1k

notes: 🫣 talk about a meet cute lol. hope you guys are getting the picture a little better with this addition. and thank you so much for reading and showing interest in this series, i have been loving seeing everyone’s responses and thoughts and i’m excited to write more! as always, comments and reblogs are welcomed and so appreciated. thank you for reading! 🩵

the way before:

The wind whips around you as you come up on City Hall, your coffee in one hand and your phone in the other.

It’s been twenty minutes now since you got here, sitting in your car impatiently waiting for Veronica to come out. You called her three times before you decided to actually get out and grab her yourself.

She had been so excited all week, counting down the days until her meeting with the soon to be congressman. She had spent so many weekends canvassing for his campaign around campus, when the votes came in you swore it was almost like she had won the seat herself, she was so happy.

When you first met her, freshman year of college, you were a little put off by her intense enthusiasm and her love for politics. She was a true activist if you’d ever met one. You sometimes think if it wasn’t for that journalism class you took together, you’d never have ended up being as close as you were.

You’re grateful though; she’s so easily become one of the best friends you’ve ever had.

Which is why you don’t mind spending your free Friday afternoon picking her up from downtown. Especially when she’s offered to pay for dinner after.

But she had said five o’clock sharp…Mr. Tedder had an important meeting right after her interview with him and she’d need to leave right away. You check your phone as you get to the door.

5:18.

You make a face as you read the time, not of annoyance, but of perturbance.

As soon as you pull the door open, you can tell.

Something’s not right here.

You can’t place it, but you can feel it. A little gnawing as you look around at the empty room. It’s quiet, disturbingly so.

Eerie.

You take a half step closer to the empty desk as your eyes continue to scan all around.

You’re gripping your phone as you feel your heart rate tick up and set your coffee on the desk.

What the hell is wrong?

You gulp and look down to the screen, your phone unlocking with your face. You go to your call log and hit Veronica’s contact again.

You put the phone to your ear as you idle in the lobby and your stomach drops as you hear the familiar ring of her phone sounding from just down the long hallway.

You follow the sound with your gaze and ever so slowly force yourself to step toward it.

One step, then another. You feel your heart racing as you get to the mouth of the hallway. You can see the doors of the council chambers just slightly open to the left, a bit further down the hall, but that’s not where the ring is coming from. You steady your accelerated breathing as best you can as you step further into the hall. Straight down is the heavy wooden door that leads to the mayor's office.

You scare yourself as the sound cuts off and her voicemail tone starts sounding in your ear.

You pull the phone away as you gape at the door.

What do you do?

Why do you feel so on edge?

Where the hell is everyone?

Slowly, you get closer.

Just as you pass the doors of the council chamber, you feel something press against your back.

Instantly, you’re frozen. Eyes wide as you're nudged forward. You hear a click.

You don’t have to turn to look to know there’s a gun on you.

“Walk.”

The voice is dark and gravelly, low and almost rough; as if it hadn’t been used in a while.

He doesn’t know what took him so long to approach you.

He saw you coming the second you stepped out of your car and headed to the building. He knows what he’s supposed to do. He knows his mission. And he knows there cannot be any loose ends.

But he lets you enter. And he lets you look around. He watches, and for reasons he doesn’t understand, he’s struck by you. You have him off his axis.

You haven’t even looked at him yet but he can’t take his eyes off of you.

He wants to let you go but clean up isn’t here yet. He’s… conflicted.

Hide, he thinks. If he can hide you, you won’t be a problem. Not for him and not for them.

You listen easily and he’s appreciative. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

He can hear your heartbeat as it pounds and the delicate sound of your stressed breathing as he walks you forward.

You were calling the girl he found in the mayor’s office. Her presence as unexpected as yours. But he had his mission. He knew what he had to do. And, unlike with you, he didn’t hesitate.

Most missions his orders aren’t so personal. He wouldn’t have to get so close. To put people aside from his target at risk. But this man had made his captors seethe. He wasn’t just in their way, he was on the verge of dismantling their local operations entirely and they could not have that. He angered the wrong men and so they wanted him to pay. In more ways than one.

This was an important mission and his orders were to be unseen. So anyone who had the misfortune of crossing the soldier’s path, they’re expendable, he hears in his mind, they’re all expendable. And you will do what needs to be done.

And he has.

As he nudged you on, the muzzle of his pistol still firm against your back, he thinks better of leading you into the mayor's office.

You don’t need to see that.

“Right,” he instructs lowly.

You pause in your path and slowly look to your right. Another door, but you’re unsure of where it leads. And more unsure of how to move to get there. You’re entirely too scared to turn around and face whoever this man is, so you trepidatiously side step until you’re next to the door.

“Go,” he nudges again.

You reach for the handle and as your sweaty palm touches it, the door easily pushes open.

You don’t enter the small office space until you’re pushed inside. And you don’t register the welling in your eyes until an errant tear slips down your cheek.

You haven’t said a single word. You haven’t a single idea what is going on, what you’ve stumbled into. But you’re terrified.

The man - you assume - walks you into the office and all the way up to the desk at the back of the space. You stop as you come to the edge of it, nowhere else to go as your legs hit the front of the desk and you bend just the slightest, your heart gripping in your chest as your hands come up to stabilize you.

You’re sick at the thought of what might come next. What could happen to you.

A tight breath escapes you as you wait for him to tell you what he wants you to do next.

“Behind the desk,” he orders after what felt like an eternity - though was only a second or two.

You listen without question, not a thought in your mind telling you to disobey.

It’s only as you round the desk you realize he is no longer at your back.

Your gaze lands on his body. The man is tall, and built. He wears military clothes, all black with tactical gear strapped around him. A holster on his thigh that holds a knife, and you’re thankful you didn’t try to run. You wouldn’t have gotten very far at all.

Your eyes drag up his imposing form slowly until they reach his face.

His hair is dark and long around his jaw. He wears a mask that covers half of his face and black goggles that cover his eyes. For only a second it makes it less intimidating to look at him; and then you realize he can see you all too clearly - he watches you closely.

Suddenly his head snaps to the direction of the door, as if he’s heard something despite the still quietness of the building.

You stand in disturbed confusion until he speaks again, not looking back at you as he starts toward the door. “Under the desk,” he orders. “Stay there.”

You lower yourself down to your knees and as you try to crawl in the small space allotted there, you finally hear what it is the man in the mask must have heard.

There’s people coming.

Your blood freezes in your veins as your eyes sting. What do you do?

What if they’re here to help? Should you yell, run, something?

There’s a pull in your stomach that tells you not to. Something about his instructions that feel more aimed at your concealment than his own.

You hear him leave the room, shutting the door behind him. Then the sound of others coming down the hall, voices harsh and mean and some taunting and chortles intermingled. You can’t make out a word, but you don’t hear the man in the mask’s voice either.

The uncertainty and unknowing grows and makes you feel sick. You’re shaking, you realize, as you grasp your hands together in a fruitless attempt to soothe yourself.

What is happening?

Where is V?

Who is that man? And who are these people joining him?

What’s gonna happen to you?

You drop your head as you hold yourself beneath the desk. What can you do but wait it out…

You don’t know how long passes as you anguish alone, your stress and anxiety mounting, when suddenly the door of the room slams open. You shake despite yourself at the unexpected noise and clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your startled gasp down.

“When I give you an order,” a dark and mean voice cuts through the quiet, “you listen, soldier,” he sneers. “You understand me?”

There’s no response as you wait, quaking with baited breath.

You can tell when the man actually enters the room. He makes a mess in his wake, pushing things off the shelves and breaking objects you can’t see all around the space. The sounds add to your terror as they grow closer.

“You said you cleared the building, soldier,” the man speaks, his voice so close now you can imagine him standing right beside the desk. “So then who the hell is this?” He asks as he bends down and meets your terrified and teary gaze. His face is scrunched in what you can only assume is anger before he takes you in and a sick smirk graces his lips.

He grabs you, hard, and pulls you up to stand. His hand is rough around your arm and his hold hurts as he turns you, holding your back to his chest as you’re once again met with the man in the mask across the desk from you.

He shows no emotion, none anyone would be able to read at least as his face is still covered.

“Never known you to miss… well, anything, soldier. How’d this one get by you?” He asks, jolting you for fun as he laughs when you can’t help the whimper that escapes.

“She did get by you, didn’t she? Must’ve,” he walks you around the desk, closer to the man in the mask. “Because you know your orders. And you follow them,” he shoves you into the man before you as you gasp and grunt, crashing into his vested chest. “To the goddamn letter,” he snarls.

The soldier, as he called him, takes you by your left arm, his hold not nearly as painful as the previous, as he keeps you close to him.

“NOW!” The man yells, causing you to finally cry as you keep your face to the soldier's chest. You don’t know why he feels like your only form of safety here, but he does - and you don’t want to face the anger of the man behind you any longer.

You see the soldier’s hand move to his thigh and watch as he swiftly takes hold of the knife kept there.

It all happens so fast, you don’t even really see it coming.

You almost don’t realize what happened until you feel it.

You clutch onto the soldier as you gasp, the pain radiating as you look down to your torso.

His hand still holds the knife that he pierced into you as he keeps it there. It’s quiet, until he jabs the knife further into you.

He’s not looking at you as he does it, he’s looking at the man behind you.

You can feel the hot tears as they slip down your cheeks, and the warmth of your blood as it begins to stain through your shirt, though you can’t make a sound.

The man behind you speaks, “That’s what I thought,” his voice is sinister and you can almost hear the smile you imagine he wears. He walks past you and the soldier as he moves toward the door, “You wanted to make a mess, you can clean this one up yourself. Extraction is still set.”

You both stay as you are, you frozen despite the adrenaline that is starting to rush through you, and him still as he waits for… for what, you’re not sure.

He must hear something you don't hear after a moment because suddenly he quickly and methodically moves into action, though he tries not to jostle you much as he does.

You murmur in your disbelief and confusion as he gently moves you around and tends to you. Your mind is scattered everywhere and nowhere and you don’t register much of anything but the pain and the fear and the confusion that swims around you distantly.

What is happening?

There’s blood. You look down and touch the red before the soldier can stop you. Your hand shakes as you lift it, examining the blood on your fingers.

Things start to come into form once again as the pain re-emerges. Your shirt is ripped and you're laying on the floor as the soldier kneels beside you. His knife is no longer sticking out of you as he dresses the wound, a crappy little first aid kit on the floor next to you. You’re not bleeding much that you can tell but it still hurts.

You begin shaking again, you’re cold and you feel dizzy.

He says something but you’re hearing is muffled and you can’t make it out or focus on the words he speaks.

You feel a hand on your face as he gently turns you to look at him.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, his voice thick with a Russian accent that sounds…misplaced somehow. Like it’s not his native tongue, but one he speaks in often. “I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

A chill runs through you again and you feel your eyes flutter, rolling back as he strokes your cheek in an attempt to soothe you.

And then it all goes black.

-

You woke up in your apartment, you’re not sure how much later. Your car was parked in its spot outside. You were in a clean pair of pajamas, your whole body felt clean…

Was it a dream?

You sit up and gasp as your abdomen pulls.

Fear engulfs you as you trepidatiously grab the hem of your pajama shirt. You inch it up slowly until you see it. The proof of what happened. There’s stitches as you stare at the healing wound marring your skin.

What the hell happened?

Did he bring you here? Did he wash you and change your clothes? Drive your car? Stitch you up?

Who else could it have been if not him…

Veronica! Where is she?!

You gingerly get up and search for your phone, finding it charging on your kitchen counter. You scramble for it and are met with an absurd number of notifications from friends and acquaintances alike. You scroll back to the first missed few and see Veronica’s contact on a missed message.

Your brows furrow as you open it.

Your mouth is dry and your stomach lurches, a growing pit threatening to overwhelm you.

The time stamp is 6:00pm yesterday.

That can’t be right, you know it. You heard her phone ringing and… no. This is crazy. This can’t be real.

The message is insane. A confession of love, of her affair with Mr. Tedder. Their plan to runaway together. An apology for not telling you sooner. A goodbye.

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you as you click her icon to call her.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

You call again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

And again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

And again.

We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.

Before you finally break down. You can’t stop the tears as you crumble into yourself.

What the hell happened?

You know Veronica. You know that message wasn’t sent by her. You can’t prove it. But you know it.

Who can you tell? Who would believe you?

She didn’t have any family, no one to miss her. No one to argue with the facts that seem to have been proven by every reporting outlet in the state. No one but you. And who were you? What could you possibly do?

You waded through the two week news storm that followed, through the messages asking you if you knew, if she had ever told you about their plans to getaway, to abandon the campaign and go live their happiest lives together somewhere far away. It was awful. Torture. You never spoke a word of what happened to you that day. And you never spoke a word of what fate you were sure truly met your best friend and one time mayor. Though, you never did see anything. Only the implication of what those men were there for, of what the man in the mask was there to do.

There was no scene at city hall. Those men must have cleaned everything up. Set everything up.

And then there was you. The one loose thread in their perfectly constructed story.

Lucky for them you weren’t brave enough or strong enough to ever attempt to unravel it all.

Though deep down you knew the truth. You weren’t supposed to be here. And they probably have no idea that you’re still around.

That soldier, that man in the mask. He saved you. He was supposed to get rid of you, to kill you, but he didn’t.

And you have no idea why.

You don’t think you ever will.

You’re not sure you even want to.