#everyone confused yet?

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

more incorrect quotes:

(or are they?)

Cylas: bitches b like “im baby” but have childhood trauma and neglect like wtf do u know about being baby u were forced to grow up from an early age anyways I’m bitches

Cylas: People are always asking me if I'm a morning person or a night person.

Person A: And I'm just like, 'Buddy! I'm barely even a PERSON!'

Cylas: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed.

seriously though, either kill (or at least incapacitate) her on first try or live to regret your life choices

Cylas: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found.

Cylas: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

Cylas: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

Cylas: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

Cylas: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Kay: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Cylas: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Kay: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Kay: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why.

Cylas: Only if you also don't ask why

Cylas: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick.

Kay:

Cylas:

Kay: This one is fine

Paramedic, tending to Person Cylas' wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Cylas: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

this in: how and why are they still alive???

Person: Go to Hell

Cylas, tearing up: I wish I could

Kay: How do I deal with my enemies?

Cylas: Kill them

Kay: That's a bit extreme, I was hoping for a more passive solution

Cylas: Kill them only a little?

dividers by firefly-graphics

Cylas: So are we flirting right now?

Person: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU

Cylas: That doesn’t answer my question

[theminecraftbee]

There are several things Martyn realizes, all at once, when he opens his eyes:

He is dreaming.

It's one of those in-between dreams, the ones that aren't quite dreams.

He is sitting at a green felted table. It is sitting on a stage. The lighting is dim, and no one is watching, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the stagehands dressed in black, waiting.

He is not the only one sitting at the table. There is a Watcher, draped in purple. There is a Listener, draped in yellow. There is someone he recognizes in a red sweater. There is someone he thinks he should recognize, but can't quite, shuffling a deck of cards.

"Right. What's all this, then," he mutters.

We are playing blackjack, the Listener says.

We are deciding the rules, the Watcher says.

"It's not like we have anything better to do. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Do you know how boring these guys are?" Grian says, and Martyn decides to quietly file Grian away as a dream-Grian, as opposed to real-life-Grian, so he doesn't go insane and/or stab him when he wakes up. He waits for the almost-familiar dealer to say something. He does not. After another few moments of awkward nonsense dream-silence, Martyn sighs and leans forward on the table.

"Sure, this might as well be happening," Martyn says. "Deal me in. How's the betting work, again?"

"You put your bet on the table. If you beat the dealer, you get to add it to the game," Grian explains. "If you don't beat the dealer, it takes it."

"Yeah, but like, that's abstract, isn't it? What does that mean, exactly, me losing what I bet if I don't beat the dealer," Martyn says.

Grian shrugs. "Don't ask me. To be honest, I'm hardly the storyteller you are."

"Me? Why are you acting like I have any control over these things when you're--"

Are you ready to play?

Martyn shuts up, looks at the Listener, and sighs. "Yeah, sure, I'm ready to play. Why not."

The dealer looks to its left. Grian sighs. "Why are you making me bet first. Again. We should rotate where we're sitting--fine, fine, I know it's an advantage because I'm the worst at this. Uh. Hm. No trading or giving away lives again. Not even as time or something. It makes the dynamics all weird, and I think we could use a nice straightforward death game next time."

(Martyn wants to roll his eyes. Nice and straightforward. Sure.)

The Watcher goes next. I would like there to be deep and wonderful bonds between the players. I would like those bonds to seem unbreakable.

"Coming from you, that's ominous," Martyn says.

Can I not just miss the alliances of the early days? the Watcher says.

"Never left the desert," Grian says, rolls his eyes, and looks at Martyn in commiseration. Martyn just stares back. So sue him, he's a bit more worried about this whole concept than an eye roll and a pithy phrase. Things Watchers want are rarely good.

When the bonds are enforced, they're less interesting, complains the Listener.

Martyn looks over sharply. Hey, wait, he thought--

I didn't say they had to be enforced by rule. I said they had to be deep. Encouraged, as opposed to discouraged.

Just saying. You'll never recapture Third Life.

Martyn swallows. His throat is dry. Weren't the Listeners supposed to be the good guys, here?

Besides, what I want is for each death to be meaningful again. They've felt too meaningless, lately, the Listener continues.

Martyn thinks the dealer raises an eyebrow, but it strikes him he's not exactly sure. Grian snorts. "Meaningful deaths. That's rich for you to say. I mean, I guess they're meaningful sometimes? I don't know, Martyn's the one who understands dramatic sacrifices, I just like killing things."

"Why do you keep on looking at me when you say those things," Martyn says.

"Look, you wouldn't be here if you weren't helping write," Grian says.

"What?" Martyn says.

We're here to play our cards for the story, the Watcher says. Aren't you also one of the authors?

"Me? What? No, I'm--what are you talking about," Martyn says.

Oh, well. I also hope your meaningful deaths make it in, the Watcher says the Listener.

Thanks, even if I disagree on the bonds, the Listener says.

"They hardly ever talk about real, concrete rules they want," complains Grian. "It's easier to understand the consequence if they bring up actual rules. Like boogeyman or no boogeyman."

"We're all just betting on cards!" Martyn says, throwing his hands up. "You're giving me a headache!"

It's your bet.

"Fine!" Martyn says. "Fine! You know what? Screw all of you. I hope this is the last one. I hope we never have to go back to that stupid death game. I hope it's miserable to watch or to listen to or to play and everyone just gives up. How's that for a bet?"

You're no fun.

Is that what you really want?

"Suit yourself," Grian says. "Honestly, if I still had that to bet, I guess I probably would."

"What do you mean, if you still had that to bet?"

"Well, I mean, that's not how blackjack works, is it? I don't just get back my in when I play it."

The dealer nods, and then silently, with a long bony hand, deals the cards.

Grian is dealt the four of diamonds. The Watcher is dealt the nine of spades. The Listener is dealt the five of clubs. Martyn is dealt a jack of spades. The dealer deals itself a seven of hearts. The dealer deals Grian a six of clubs--

"Hey, isn't that supposed to be face-down?" Martyn asks.

"Not here," Grian explains. "They're all face up so we can't touch the cards. So we don't have to. So we can't cheat."

"Who said anything about cheating?" Martyn says.

"Please," Grian says.

The dealer makes a hand motion. Martyn, grumpily, falls silent. He supposes they're playing by casino rules, then. He hasn't been in a casino since--he wouldn't know. Hard to remember anything that isn't this, isn't it? Isn't killing and dying and things out of his control and things very much in his control and, apparently, bizarre dream sequences designed to make him want to strangle Grian.

Anyway. Grian is dealt a six of clubs, giving him ten. The Watcher is given an eight of spades, giving it seventeen. The Listener is dealt a king of hearts, giving it fifteen. Martyn is given a six of clubs, giving him sixteen. The dealer deals its own second card face-down. Martyn stops to try to speak, and then shuts his mouth. Right. Dealer's advantage.

He stares at the numbers.

Grian sighs. "Well, I've got to double down, don't I? Fine. I want the whole 'red lives can kill' thing to be enforced somehow. I don't care how. There's my double down."

The dealer nods.

"Why would you want that," Martyn says blankly.

If we all win, that will be interesting with the bonds, the Watcher says mildly.

Grian shrugs. "I mean, we've enforced red names not befriending green names, but not the murder thing before. Figure we should switch up the game, right?"

"Why?" Martyn says again.

Well, it wouldn't do for it to be boring.

"No, not that. Just... isn't it easier to handle when the rules are laid out properly?"

Martyn throws his hands up, but stops arguing. The dealer gives Grian a face-down card. The dealer moves to the next party at the table.

The Watcher looks over at the dealer and makes a cutting-off motion. I stand.

The dealer moves on. Hit me, the Listener says, and is dealt the queen of diamonds. The Listener gestures to Martyn. It seems I bust. Pity. I suppose there will be no guarantee of meaning, then. Not what I'd prefer.

The dealer looks at Martyn. Martyn looks at the other hands. Martyn pauses.

"Wait, this is like, casino blackjack, yeah? I'm only playing against you, not the whole table?"

"Why would you be playing against us?" Grian says. "Writing's a collaborative process."

Martyn looks entreatingly at the Listener, but the Listener is a little too caught up in the bad hand it has been dealt. Martyn looks entreatingly at the Watcher, but the Watcher just looks somehow confused.

"I was under the impression that, I don't know, you all were adversarial."

Why? All we want is the same thing as you: the story to be told a certain way.

Martyn's not sure if he's furious or just numb.

"Fine. Got a sixteen, don't I? Hit me."

Two of spades.

He's furious. He wants to win against the dealer. He wants to win against everyone. He wants his idea to make it through. He has an eighteen, though. There are only two numbers in the deck that will not bust him, and he's no fool. Hitting on sixteen is a risk enough; if he wants his stupid bet of everything finally ending to make it through, he's got to hold here.

"I hold," he says through gritted teeth.

The dealer silently deals itself another card. A three of hearts. Distantly, Martyn's ears rush. He could have taken that. He could have taken the hit. He could have won. He could have had blackjack, and he doesn't know what the extra payout for blackjack even means in a game like this one, but he could have had it, and he held back, he didn't take the risk, he didn't--

The dealer flips up its cards. Seven, eight, three. Eighteen.

Martyn's heart pounds. A stand-off.

Grian flips up his own card and groans. It's a five of diamonds. "There goes that bet," he mutters.

The dealer makes a sweeping motion around the table. The Watcher smiles, a terrible, terrible thing. Martyn, all at once, realizes that he can't ask again. He can't say 'this is guaranteed to be the last one' again. He backs out of his chair. To the sides, he sees the stagehands change the lighting. A spotlight, on him and the dealer--

"That isn't fair," he says. "It's a tie. I should get my bet back, right? It's a tie!"

THAT IS WHERE WE DIFFER FROM THE HOUSES IN VEGAS, the dealer says, and Martyn's heart stops.

(The voice is familiar. Familiar, but he cannot place it.)

YOU SEE, IN THIS GAME, THERE IS ALWAYS ONE THING THAT HAS AN ADVANTAGE. ONE THING THE STORY IS ALWAYS PLAYING AGAINST. ONE THING, THAT INEVITABLY, AFTER LONG ENOUGH PLAYING, WILL WIN.

There, the dealer looks Martyn in the eyes, and Martyn, all at once, knows exactly what the dealer must be.

AND THAT IS ME.

Martyn stares Death in the eyes.

Then, in a cold sweat, Martyn wakes up.

He does not sleep again for a long time.

[ctrlseacat]

we just missed each other

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

I always thought that handcuffs were kinda stupid. As a little kid I would watch movies where the bad guys were hauled away in cuffs and I'd always think "alright, I guess that's inconvenient for them?" but I never really understood why they didn't just... take them off and escape

This curiosity heightened when I saw that my aunt had real metal handcuffs that locked with a real key and I quickly, before any adult could see what I was doing, shackled both my wrists with the cuffs as tight as they could go.

And when I say tight, I mean tight. I had reaaaaal skinny wrists and I was a child wearing adult handcuffs, so you'd think the cuffs would be loose but nope. Those things weren't circular anymore, they'd folded in so much that they looked more like the shape a cat's pupils turn when they're mad.

And what they don't tell you about real handcuffs? Those suckers are sharp. The inside edges are almost bladed, I guess to discourage exactly what I was trying to do but that certainly didn't stop my curious lil neurodivergent brain, oh no no.

Anyway, after about five minutes of pulling, straining, huffing and puffing, I finally went to find the adult with the key.

I was so disappointed.

And so, so hopelessly confused.

Course, no one questioned why I had locked my aunt's handcuffs and why I needed them unlocked. And, of course, I didn't communicate my confusion in any way.

So it wasn't until way later in life, when I had quickly shimmied out of one of those indestructible water park wristbands and saw the horrified eyes of my friends watching me with morbid glee, that I discovered that, apparently, most people can't dislocate their thumbs at will.

The moral of the story here is that neurodivergent children have no concept of typical versus atypical and that I cannot be contained by your petty mortal means.

[august-writing]

"Not I," I said, "I love you."

Yet when blood was on your face I knew you not.

"Would you follow me, my child? Even in the dark?"

But when the light blew dim I fled.

You told me of the future, and of a joy to come 

You loved me and you taught me

"I know your heart, my child."

When you were weak and weary where was I to comfort?

When you cried out for the Father I hid my face.

I saw you. I saw your eyes and anguish.

O how it pierced me. How could I abandon you?

"Not I," I said, "I love you." But how could it be true?

I turned and left my lover.

Weak and twisted is the heart that claimed to live for you

How can it be, how can I live? I wish to love you.

Yet it is a dead heart that saw your face among the crowd.

A light flew across the distance. On the wings of your suffering.

O how it pierced me. My eyes have opened.

I don't deserve to be here, to sing and see the dawn

Lord let me live and love you

How I was meant to all along

[biblically-accurate-dca]

HEYO!! This is such a fun lil section of the inter-webs :DD !! As a fellow biblically accurate enjoyer, I made a lil gift for you! :3c Enjoy!! :DD

Have a great day/evening! :DD

THANK YOU SO MUCH??? YOUR ART IS SO COOL (´；ω；｀) !! AND YOU DRAW THEM SO WELL???

i hope you have a great day too 😭

[thevirgodoll]

i think the joy in being a child was that everyone allowed you to be delusional even when it didn’t make sense. adulthood sucks because you can’t have dreams and silly fun delusions without other people limiting it. how did we go from encouraging every kid to dream big to shitting all over those dreams once that kid gets older? that's why everyone's so depressed rn like we need to regress as a society idk

[greatwyrmgold]

Denji is having such a weird morning. He's surrounded by a bunch of people he doesn't know. One of them fawns over Chainsaw Man speaking, another heckles him. Asa is also there, and apparently her arm was cut off by his "friend".

Before he can figure out who Asa thinks might be friends with him, some guy stomps on his crotch and demands that Denji turn into Chainsaw Man and fight him. Asa gets into an argument with that guy (have we met before?) and says that they agreed to only fight him after explaining "everything".

Then, all of a sudden—despite just saying they weren't going to fight him—she kicks him in the chin and demands that Chainsaw Man "wake up". And the peanut gallery is freaking out, and his balls still hurt, and he hasn't had breakfast, and sooner or later he'll remember that his apartment got torched and wonder what happened to Nayuta while he was asleep.

[5eyed]

yayo! (real name: yolanda). shes xeress crush. i want to give her some tattoos or piercings but i couldnt think of good ones yet..

[hezuart]

YOOOO! HazbinHotel Trailer just Drop!😱 Spoilers Along with the Release date of Season 1 and 2! Let Us know your Opinion about it!😆

Some things we know:

Amazon Prime is the streaming service that took it up Season 1 will be released in January 2024

It's going to get a season 2

The voice actors still haven't been announced for some reason? The trailer has no dialogue on top of that. We see Lucifer, a lot of Alastor and Vox fighting, the weird demon-looking angel Adam, a meeting of Hell overlords discussing the angel threats, and Sir Pentious is part of the gang now. That's about it? The trailer's music reminds me of a Disney movie for kids. There are a lot of Tinkerbell chime noises and jazzy upbeat music which I don't think is fitting for what the show is trying to go for as a teen-to-adult plot regarding demons from Hell being murdered and dealing with abuse. (They have "Guess what, bitches?" on a text screen in the trailer too) So first impression is extreme overcrowding. List of characters that appear in the trailer alone: Charlie Alastor Vaggie Angel Dust Husker Niffty Sir Pentious Lucifer Lilith Vox Velvet Adam Rosie and we all know Cherri Bomb and Valentino are gonna show up too. These are way too many characters to introduce or juggle in an 8 episode season. There is no possible way to give our main characters enough screen time, focus, or development to make them meaningful protagonists. They either have to rush plots or drop character arcs to squeeze things into 8 episodes.

[raiiny-bay]

new character page wip

[mohabertalan]

inviso-bill isn't stupid enough i need to come up with even stupider names for danny in my fic

like... appa-richy, paul-tergeist, ano-matty, ghoulbert, spect-reggy, spiri-tommy, etc etc

[bloos-bloo]

Oh my god y’all get art the same day twitter does, woahh

Except for the Bob doodle lol

Also happy anniversary to SnowTrapped, these two are very gay

[shady-timetraveler]

RIP Kim. He just wants to beat one racer in a fair fight to prove he's the best but everyone is trying to kill babe before he can do it

[kittenbased]

when I felt like going crazy that I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think of anyone else but you – yoon jun x hae sung, call it love (2023)

[darlingcloudie-9]

Live laugh love Kumonoue & Yuichiro’s straining relationship 💕