#god how else do I tag this?

[the-good-ol-art-corner]

I haven't posted them here before but man I have.. no consistent design for this guy- Anyways you ever think about how messed up Lefty's entire like, everything is? Being made for the soul purpose of holding the puppet, shocking them to keep them inside? Basically a walking prison? Cause I do <3 Alt un-shaded ver under the read more :)

Reblogs > Likes, Thank you! <3

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DNI if you support Sc*tt C*wth*n/are a Sc*tt C*wth*n apologist. Do not tag with "Thank you Sc*tt" or anything similar.

[me-beef]

@strangeravatar made a great point

i was gonna focus on the spike-hotboxing-celestia aspect but i got distracted somewhere along the way and i think i forgot what joke i was trying to make

but dont you think its interesting how many guards of the exact same color/body type she's managed to accrue?? i do

ooohh you want to go look at our stickers so bad

[captainswhore]

you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.

he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.

his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.

"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"

you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"

and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white

(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)

[pinimi]

something something about buttons and izzy both being first mates and their existence somehow reinforcing both stede and eds roles as pirate captains, something about how that means that they both needed to go for ed and stede to truly leave piracy behind, something about that above all a first mate should always be loyal to their captain and that even though they have both left this world, izzy and buttons are still there with their captains at the end of it all

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

While you were fighting in the war, I was falling in a pit.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[harmonictechnicality]

It’s the way Steve places a pin in that damn map of Hawkins. Two fingers, muddy knuckles. Fuck if Eddie knows the actual destination because all he can navigate is the curve of Steve’s index finger as he smooths out the edges of the map.

And it’s stupid, right? Because the world is folding in on itself and he’s looking at a guy in the kind of way Victorian novelists would only describe as ‘longingly.’ It’s objectively stupid. Probably some adrenaline bullshit that a doctor could explain with a brain scan.

The rest of the group has scattered, plotting amongst themselves. Pulling plans out of their asses. Finding layers of courage behind clues and cassette tapes.

Eddie should do that too. Plan. Make decisions. Do anything other than stare at the dirt underneath Steve’s goddamn fingernails.

“Please blink, Munson.” Steve says while clearing his throat. He’s been doing that a lot. Which is, like, understandable after coughing up lake water all night long.

He clears his throat again. “Show sign of life before I ransack the supply bag for that shit you call music.”

“That… shit?” Eddie spits out the words. Briefly forgets his swirly Steve feelings because of the fucking audacity on this guy. “Rightrightright, because Bob Seger is so fucking dignified, huh?”

“Uh-oh.” Dustin murmurs behind him.

“Because Old Time Rock and Roll is the highest ranking of ear candy?” Eddie searches through their duffel bag until he finds Steve’s Vecna Saftey Tape. Waves it around wildly as he speaks. “Forgive me. I didn’t know entry-level chord progressions were considered Carnegie Hall worthy these days. But by all means, call my music shit.”

He throws the tape at Steve’s lap before dropping back down to his seat on the couch.

“Well,” Steve smirks. “At least we know if the music won’t wake you up, mocking it sure as hell will.”

“Guys. Focus.” Nancy steps into the center of the room. Everyone nods, even Eddie. They listen intently to her directions. Henderson doesn’t interrupt her, not even once.

Nancy’s entire demeanor is charged with currents of determination. It’s honestly impressive. Truly. She could convince congress to change the fucking constitution if she wanted. Have the supreme court eating out of her palm with how persuasive she can be.

And the only thing that distracts her, is the same thing distracting Eddie.

Two fingers. Muddy knuckles.

Eddie follows her gaze back over to Steve. Her expression softening when she sees him.

It’s cruel and expected. Cruel that Eddie has to witness such softness, knowing exactly how it feels. Expected because wedding bells can practically be heard every time those two interact with each other. No one can deny that.

But knowing all this doesn’t stop the cruelty from squeezing Eddie’s stomach till his insides feel raw.

He swallows down his flimsy fantasies. Keeps repeating those words from back in the woods:

It’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s-

“Hey, man.” Steve says.

Man? Not ‘Nancy, my betrothed?’ Not “Nancy, my muse?”

… Man?

Eddie blinks. Glances up to see Steve looking at him. “Your taste in music isn’t complete shit.”

Which isn’t exactly an apology. But the teasing scratches an itch in Eddie’s brain that he hasn’t be able to reach for a very long time.

“Yeah.” Eddie says. “I guess Bob Seger’s stuff is… intermediate. Assistant managerial-level chord progressions.”

He pauses. Then leans in and adds a quick, “At best.”

They both laugh a little. It’s cut short by Steve clearing his throat again. One of the many reminders that they’re not well.

That nothing they’re going through is fair. Not even in the same universe as Fair. Eddie’s eyes fall to the red markings around Steve’s neck. Wonders if that makes his cough hurt worse.

“Look.” Steve nudges Eddie’s arm. Pulls his attention back into this moment. “We’ve got this, okay?”

Eddie can’t exactly tell if there’s softness in Steve’s eyes - the same kind Nancy gives to him so freely. Or if it’s just regularly scheduled Concern. But it doesn’t even matter because Steve said that.

We.

‘We’ve got this.’

Him and Steve.

And, okay, was Steve referring to a collective ‘we?’ Sure, yeah. Obviously. But Eddie is allowing himself to wallow in delusion while the world’s expiration date remains questionable.

So he aims a lovesick smile at Steve and sighs. “Whatever you say, Harrington.”

[radioactive-mouse]

i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me

3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.

Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.

Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—

Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.

Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.

[sanshinexx]

After Angband, Maedhros had a complicated relationship with his hair for a long while. The thing he once used to cherish and carry with pride, inherited from the mother he had left behind, was now tainted with memories of unwanted attention and derogatory touch.

After his rescue, it had to be cut short for the sake of his recovery, and he could never quite figure out whether he was more hurt or relieved by the act. It was Fingon, during those times filled with anxiety and doubt and shame, who helped him learn to accept his own appearance again– from the stump of his right arm and the scars littered across his freckled body to the locks of copper hair, ever so slowly regrowing to their former glory.

And little by little, the lingering memories of malevolent hands harshly yanking at his scalp were replaced by the feeling of tender hands carefully braiding familiar golden ribbons into his hair, once again beloved.

[mobius-m-mobius]

You wanna hear a good story? Listen to this one.

Mobius + comfort

[abd-illustrates]

I might’ve spoiled the plot of Natlan | Genshin Impact THEORY

In which I read so much lore that I gained the power to see the future (maybe) This ended up being a real challenge to make - but it was also really fun! Please do lemme know what you reckon of these ideas, and whether y’all wanna see me pattern-recognition my way into several corkboards worth of theories about any other topics sometime down the line! (^^)/

(also: HAPPY NEW YEAR! 🥳🎉 Here's wishing y'all every good thing for 2024)

[ricky-mortis]

S1 Pulp Musicals Gang my beloved

[ifyouknowmenahyoudontt]

everytime i open my mouth to speak i remember why i usually don’t

[dear-ao3]

Heyy totally weird question and having never experienced a long term relationship before this is really coming just from a place of curiosity, I'm deeply sorry if I'm stepping over a line. Did your ex boyfriend change as a person as time went by, because I remember loving your posts about him, and everything seemed wonderful and adorable about your dynamic, thinking that even if these complete strangers to me break up one day it will be full of mutual respect and understanding. Can a person really change up like that? Like were there ever any signs that he is a douchebag capable of breaking things of over a text and anything else that he's done or was he never actually like that and a "change" happend over night?

I am not at all probing into your life, please don't think that, nor am I asking for some kind of explanation no, just curious about someone turn up to be a complete douchebag at the end

i mean yea there were signs, generally when youre dating someone in the beginning things seem fine and dandy and then it all falls apart later. most of the problems stemmed from the fact that he broke a lot of bad habits and then gained them back. we were also pretty young and in that weird limbo stage of life where youre figuring out what the fuck you want to do and when youre in that area of life (college) things can change very quickly and you can very quickly realize that you are not as perfect for someone as you once thought.

actually though we were decently mature towards the end of it and knew it was falling apart and were like okay when the time comes we will be respectful and this will be mutual and likely we will remain friends (cause we did get along pretty well, there were just a lot of logistics that were not working) and then he decided to dump me over text (which he didnt really realize he was doing? he thought it was a break he was proposing but he worded it so badly that i was like um no this is a breakup. goodbye. then he tried to be like oh no no no we are still good for eachother! so even though he definitely started it i finished it) and all respect was lost

tho despite all that crap i dont regret it, there was a lot of fun, learned a lot about myself and most importantly learned what it does feel like to be in love. its not my fault it didnt work out, there was a lot of stuff that i was aware of at the beginning that would make it challenging and i knew it wasnt going to last forever, but while it was good it was definitely good.

[justablah56]

do you guys ever think about Marco being the only good thing Grant ever let himself have . the only good thing he ever consciously chose to have . do you guys ever think about that .

[vampyre-kin]

Damn shawty, your haunting eyes, unique nose and janky teeth have bewitched my mind, body and soul.

[butwhatifidothis]

I need the people who look at posts talking about Wyll's treatment in both the actual game and especially the fandom and respond with "but i don't like him and I think he's boring" to know that shutting the fuck up is 100% the better option 100% of the time. Him being the only origin character to not have at last 10 hours of content and the existence of mods that literally whitewash him and his dad - among everything else wrong with how Wyll is treated - are not suddenly okay because you, personally, as an individual, don't find him interesting, and your personal individual feelings about him are irrelevant to the issues surrounding his treatment in the bg3 community at large, so like. Stop barging in with your unwanted, unhelpful opinion