#i sHOULD FINISH THIS

[semothekat]

bro i was cooking back in 2022

[onekisstotakewithme]

You might’ve told me about it but I can’t remember right now. Millie and CJ? 👀

(So good to see Sperm donor there, though 🥰)

I might have? I dunno.

This was partially brought about by my watching "Ellie" and going "what i need more of in life is CJ interacting with Millie, obviously" (because Mary Kay Place is a TREASURE!!!) but anyway this is probably an offshoot of the secret dating au from s6, and probably happens on the China trip, where Millie happens to check in on CJ and interrupts her in the middle of something...

That something is taking a pregnancy test.

"I didn't know you still made house calls," CJ says, stepping back in resignation to let Millie into her room, hoping she won't get a sudden urge to use the bathroom any time soon. "Please. I was bored out of my mind, sitting there in my hotel room with nothing to do." CJ can understand the feeling, the restlessness, the need to be useful to *somebody*. "So... what can I do for you, Millie?" "I wanted to see how you were doing." "I'm... I'm fine, thank you." "You sure?" "Why, don't I look fine?" "You look great," Millie says, laughing a little. "Well, now you do. You looked a little queasy on the ride in." "If I looked queasy, it was only because I was anticipating the press corps' reaction to what was going on. Which, believe me, would turn anyone’s stomach."

ALSO bonus baby Mary Kay Place in MASH under the cut.

Thank you Elena 💜💜

[ursuladecayart]

lmao some cursed thumbnail sketches from my WIP graveyard olly and his mom when he was little trying to scam a diner for free food 

[anarchswild]

thinking about interpretations of the Beast again and pulling this old WIP out the file.

[branmer]

bringing back knife weilding bby branmer

[dpsisquared]

Houses Dimileth sickfic where Byleth falls sick and the only person around to take care of her is FeralMitri

Ooh I kinda sorta wrote a little bit of this! (I don't feel like editing to make sense independently, so in this fic she doesn't remember him when she comes back.)

"Oh, dear," Mercedes said when she saw Byleth's limp form in his arms. She cast a healing spell, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the blood stopped pouring from her wound. "Hm, the rest seems to be magical exhaustion. Can you carry her to the infirmary, Dimitri? I'll be there as soon as I make sure there are no life-threatening injuries to tend to here." Alone in the infirmary, he carefully placed Byleth on a bed and fidgeted. He decided he should put a blanket over her. Whenever he was ill, his parents or nanny always laid him in bed under the covers, so it was probably what you were supposed to do. He rummaged in the cupboards for a blanket. When he went to spread it over her, though, he realized her boots were still on. Taking off someone's boots wasn't intimate, right? No one would want to sleep like that. Gingerly, he sat next to her in the bed and slid her boots off, all too aware that it required him to touch her leg. His gaze roamed up her body, for once not in a lascivious way, but appraisingly. There wasn't any active bleeding, but she was covered in dried blood and grime. Glancing at the blanket again, he sighed. It wouldn't do to put her to bed filthy, either. She's a tool, he reminded himself, a weapon. You have to maintain your weapons. That's all it is. He filled a basin with water, removed her dirty cloak, and wiped down her exposed skin, taking extra care near her healing wound. He brushed out her matted hair. Finally, she was in a state to tuck in so he could be rid of this distraction. Although... He probably shouldn't leave her alone. Pathetic, scoffed Glenn, still a lovesick puppy. For a woman who doesn't even remember you. The battle with Randolph was over, but a new battle was coming to a head. The Dimitri that had loved Byleth was a growing threat to the Dimitri that was committed to the dead. He had listened to the voices when he saw the professor earlier. It was clear something bad had happened, but he didn't offer his help to her. The result was Byleth being injured and unconscious, all to save him. She could have died, and what would that accomplish? Her death would be on his hands just as surely as if he'd swung the axe. It was his punishment to bear, not hers. Then there was the creeping doubt about his ghosts-- a seed that Byleth had planted five years ago that was now coming into bloom. When he had first confided in her about the voices he heard, she had told him of instances of similar afflictions among her father's mercenaries, and gently argued against the critical comments of the ghosts. Her logical, blunt way of speaking was convincing, and he had just started to reconsider his priorities when his stepsister revealed herself. When he lost Byleth, though, any hope of a life for himself tumbled over the cliff with her. Even since they'd reunited, her sensible suggestions had influenced him. She told him that he'd need to eat and train to reach Enbarr, while his ghosts only ever suggested more bloodshed. In five years, he'd achieved nothing but the barest definition of survival, while less than a month after reuniting with Byleth, he had an army and a true chance at striking back. Could he even achieve his revenge listening to his father and Glenn? More likely, he'd challenge a hoard of enemies and die a pointless death long before reaching the emperor. Is that what happened today before Byleth changed fate? Is that perhaps what the ghosts truly wanted? What he truly wanted? No, he wouldn't leave her alone, no matter how it displeased the ghosts. Independent of his confusing feelings, she had proven herself useful and loyal. He dragged a chair next to her bedside and settled in for a long wait.

-----------

"Di-- mitri?" He had sat on the floor with his head laying on the bed, trying to get a bit of rest while still being able to hear her breathing. "I'm here," he said softly, too softly for a monster like him. He was regretting his decision to stay with her. "You're--" she hacked and coughed on her words, so he picked up the glass of water on the table and tipped it into her mouth. Playing house again, I see, sneered his father. She's a tool. He needs her, only as a weapon. "You're okay?" she asked.

[mightymizora]

For the WIP game - I gotta know more about "Dacw 'Nghariad"

Dacw is my Sollavellan fic, about a much older Lavellan, Gennol, whose relationship with Solas is much less of a "Halla and the Wolf" style story and much more "this woman has spent her life in service to the Lavellan clan, and has lived a life, a whole life, and you cannot tell her she is not an Elf or she has lived in vain, man who has never lived" story.

A bit is on Ao3 already, but from later on:

She could see it, there in the depths of the woods. The tall sails of the aravels of Clan Lavellan, resplendent in their fine workings, carving through the distant trees. She looked to the floor, but could see no tracks. No matter, the wheels were still in sight. She could run and catch them. She started, but felt heavy. Looking down she saw the finery of the Inquisition all over her. The heavy boots, thick trousers and double-breasted jacket, the silken blue sash gaudy in the green of the trees. She looked up again. The sails had almost disappeared. Groaning under the effort, she began to run towards them. The sash caught on the thorns of the bushes and she let it tear, pulling herself away from it with all her might to keep running, the sails staying in her eye line even as she still could not see the tracks. In that far distance she could hear the laughing of the young ones, carrying on the breeze and mingling with the shriek of the birds as she scattered them. The sky changed, the temperature dropped and she felt the first fall of rain, slow at first but soon heavier and heavier as she swore the sound of songbirds became the caw of crows. The wool of the jacket became swollen with the weight of the pounding rain and she was forced to stop, unbuttoning the brocade clasps with shaking fingers as the aravel passed further from her gaze. She threw the jacket to the ground, tripping on to the wood of the trees to propel her ever forward, the wood of the aravels starting to blend with the trees in the thick of the storm. The trees grew slick with moisture and she found her grip lessen; as she looked again, her hands were soaked with blood. She kicked off the boots to run faster, feeling the mud in her toes as she ran. She felt it creep up the fine trousers and shrugged them off too, running through the woods, mud and blood and rain coating her as she pushed through, the forest breaking as she flailed, her voice lost in the heavy hit of water on leaves as she screamed for Deshanna, for Goronwy and Gwid, for Arlais and her wooden sword and Cefin and his tall tales and Efa, little Efa, for her curls and the way her hand fit in her grandmother's palm, for the way she still lay on her mother's belly with her head in the crook of her neck, for the girl and the woman and the wife and the mother and the grandmother she could have been. She cried out for them to wait, for them to take her with them, she cried out until they had run out of woodland to travail, the fleet of sails disappearing into thick green fog leaving her behind, naked and alone in wilds unknown to her, a mix of blood on her skin melted into her sweat and the mud. She stood there for moments that could not be counted, her breath ragged, the air heavy with the rain and the silence. Until she heard it. Soft pads of steps. The unmistakable movement of a predator tracking its prey. She felt a hard, wet breath on her shoulder. Turning, she was faced with a mountain of darkness, taller than any beast she had ever seen, thick with fur. A hundred amber eyes stared right through her, the hot breath joined by infinite rows of gleaming wet teeth. The beast inhaled, its maw open for her to see into its belly. She woke, in a fit, her eyes wide and throat tight, the mark burning green.

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

blue

Michael: BE ANNOYING WITH ME DAMMIT Jeremy: Pff what you mean from several years ago? Michael: Yes      Invent time travel       Find the dork with the red hoodie and big ass white headphones       And start singing Partners In Crime Jeremy: How about YOU invent time travel       Find the loser with the blue cardigan and the perpetual deer in the headlights eyes      And start singing Wolf In Sheep's Clothing Michael: Lmao someone had an Undertale phase Jeremy: Says you lol Michael: We can smell our own Jeremy: Can you smell me through the front door      Cuz I'm here

---Store Playlist // Chapter 3

[animutate]

whatthe fuck was i up to in 2021

[disorganizedkitten]

' “Well that was… a unique experience,” Paon voiced, pulling her mask off once safely back in the lair. “Oh?” Hawkmoth prompted, leaning on his cane. '

The Miraculous Syndicate is wide reaching and employs a wide array of people. Follow along throughout their workdays, and see just what happens on the Paris down low.

[cnihachu]

post pearl when they least expect it

[aturnoftheearth]

oh my god whiskey lullaby amv that’s 70% finished that i completely forgot about because it’s on my other computer………. oh ……

[rebelrainfall]

singing/song for the wip thing?

From a high school AU I've finally gotten around to typing up and trying to finish (it's been sitting unfinished in my history notebook since the end of last school year lol)

“Jynnnn,” he prompts instead, poking her on the elbow with the end of his pencil. “Remember? It’s in the song.”

Jyn only groans, trying to shift away. Of course, she can’t get out of pencil-range without leaving the table, so Cassian only switches to tapping the top of her head with the eraser on the end instead.

“Why would I remember the song?” she protests, muffled by her arms. But then she tilts her head up, just enough that he can see one eye glowering up at him. “Is it the pituitary gland?”

(the endocrine system song, in case anyone was curious)

[theredtours]

why yes I AM making boop gifs from screen recording

[greykolla-art]

It’s healthy to step out of our comfort zone’s a little!😜

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!